Chapter 46: Failure
"The Mangekyō Sharingan… no, perhaps I should say the Mangekyō Sharingan enhanced through Zanpakutō. Has everything truly been part of your plan from the start, Aizen Sosuke?"
Orochimaru sat quietly on the guest cushion in the writing room, his serpentine eyes reflecting the burning Konoha mirrored in the sky—and within it, the figure of Uchiha Kagami. His thoughts raced at terrifying speed.
"If my assumptions are correct, the next stage must involve that pair of legendary eyes," he whispered, almost to himself. "The essence of Bankai remains obscure, but to face such mythical power and remain so calm... how intriguing, Aizen."
Aizen gave no response. He could not read minds—but he didn't need to.
He simply gazed upward, expression unreadable, as the illusion of a burning Konoha expanded across the heavens. Then, his brow furrowed slightly as Kagami, having somehow resisted his immense spiritual pressure, began to straighten his posture.
Kagami's voice rang out, steady but edged with fury.
"As long as you swear before these eyes that you will never harm Konoha's interests, I will let you go."
Waves of distorted air rippled outward as a massive skeletal form—its sockets empty and blind—coiled protectively around Kagami. The air quaked.
The triangular pupils of his Mangekyō Sharingan spun with a brilliant scarlet glow, synchronizing perfectly with the infernal sky above. Within Konoha, this was his dominion. His power here was absolute.
Both his Bankai and his Mangekyō Sharingan had been born for Konoha—and it was only within the village that they reached their peak. This was Uchiha Kagami's greatest secret, and the trump card he had finally revealed.
"Bankai," Kagami said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of his conviction, "is the truest reflection of one's deepest fear. In that sense, it's no different from the Sharingan. My fear—my despair—has always been the same. I fear seeing Konoha destroyed by an outsider, reduced to a stepping stone for someone else's ambition. That is why I will never allow it."
His gaze shifted downward, toward the calm figure below.
"You are a brilliant man, Aizen. Terrifyingly so. Even now, I believe that if you swear your loyalty to Konoha, I will let you go. But if you harbor even the slightest thought of betrayal… I will end you."
He clenched his fists, his chakra and reiatsu surging in unison.
"With the power of both the Mangekyō Sharingan and Bankai, even if you attempt to distort my world, I will not fall. This is the might of Uchiha Kagami—strength that even the Tailed Beasts cannot withstand. In this world, only the First Hokage's Wood Release could compare, and even that may fall short. So, Aizen… do not make the wrong choice."
His eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.
"Now speak. Will you stand with Konoha… or against it? Because if you choose the latter, the heat of my burning Konoha will erase you from existence."
Aizen exhaled softly, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve.
"The Mangekyō Sharingan… fused with your Bankai, empowering you within Konoha itself. Is this your final trump card, Kagami-kun?"
He shook his head slowly, disappointment flickering across his face.
"Unfortunately… it failed."
"What?"
"The experiment," Aizen said quietly. "It failed. The fusion of chakra and soul energy isn't as simple as I anticipated."
He raised his gaze, observing the clear division between Kagami's Bankai and Sharingan energies as they struggled to coexist above. Adjusting his glasses, he spoke in a tone of analytical regret.
"I had hoped that someone as extreme yet as kindhearted as you, Kagami-kun, when fused with the Mangekyō Sharingan and a Zanpakutō, might evolve into something beyond my expectations. But I was wrong. I failed. I suppose I was never suited for gambling. Perhaps the issue lies in the chakra itself…"
Kagami's breath hitched. "What are you saying?"
"It seems that what happened with Kurosaki Ichigo was merely coincidence," Aizen mused. "A case of pure, uncontrolled harmony—noninterference between soul and body. How disappointing. I was hoping for a more elegant result."
"I asked you," Kagami roared, "what the hell are you talking about?!"
"Why, it's your matter, of course, Kagami-kun."
Aizen removed his glasses and carefully wiped the dust from the lenses, his smile fading into cold detachment. When he lifted his head again, his eyes—unshielded and unfeeling—glimmered with predatory intelligence.
He looked at Kagami not as an enemy, nor as a comrade… but as a failed experiment.
Because in Aizen's eyes, no matter how violently a subject struggles, no matter how far it runs, it always remains within the boundaries of his theory.
Free—but only within the cage he designed.
They were marked with numbers, their locations pre-programmed. Though they seemed free—thinking, acting, and living by their own will—their fates had been predetermined from the very beginning.
Just as Aizen had said before, he never did anything "redundant." What seemed unnecessary to others was, to him, a crucial step in the process of experimentation.
Whether it was the current combat trials or the ongoing fusion experiments between the Sharingan and Shinigami abilities, all of it served one purpose—progress.
"From the start, you were my test subject for creating chakra compatible with the Sharingan, Kagami-kun," Aizen said, adjusting his glasses. "I had high hopes for you."
Uchiha Kagami stood motionless in the burning sky, his body trembling as the truth struck him.
Aizen smiled faintly, his tone almost pitying.
"The power gained after Impure World Reincarnation is complete. It grants nearly limitless chakra. But have you ever wondered why bloodline limits, elemental releases, and dōjutsu can all be inherited? The answer is simple—everything, from bloodline to ocular power, is just a transformation of chakra."
He looked upward, his voice calm and methodical.
"Every being is a slave to chakra's cycle—from birth to death and even after. That's why I began a rather fascinating screening experiment. There are ninjas with soul affinity, ninjas with Uchiha lineage, pure types, impure types. And fortunately, Konoha provided a massive sample pool. So much data to analyze…"
His lips curled into a faint smirk.
"Why do you think I resurrected Konoha's ninjas and allowed them to roam freely? Why assign you as squad leaders? Why let you live without fear of consequence? The answer is obvious—you've all been marked. Each of you is invaluable experimental material. I should have made that clear from the beginning. Each of you is unique."
He extended a hand, tracing invisible patterns in the air as he continued.
"The interaction between the Sharingan—an eye that changes with emotion—and the Zanpakutō—a weapon engraved with the soul; the resonance between Reiryoku techniques that separate spirit from body and the Shinigami arts; the intricate connection between will and soul form… Truly fascinating."
Aizen's tone softened into something disturbingly serene.
"Sometimes, I'm grateful that this world is so… careless. It lets me collect as much knowledge as I wish. And no one ever notices."
"AIZEN!!!"
Kagami's roar tore through the heavens, his voice filled with fury and grief. His eyes burned red as his chakra and reiatsu surged uncontrollably.
"Even if you planned everything—my Bankai, the fall of Konoha, even this battle—you can't predict this!"
His hands trembled as raw power erupted from his body.
"Susanoo!!!"
The air split open. A colossal skeleton burst forth from the void, rapidly assembling into a towering armored titan. Its armor gleamed crimson, its sword wreathed in black flame.
The massive being—like the incarnation of a wrathful god—descended upon Aizen. Behind it, Kagami's burning Konoha spiraled downward, fragments of ruined buildings and searing embers fusing into the colossal construct.
The flaming sword, hundreds of meters long, tore through the heavens as it fell toward Aizen's courtyard like a divine judgment.
"No matter what you say, no matter how you twist truth or theory—you can't change this reality!" Kagami's voice thundered. "I have power!"
"Power?"
Aizen's tone was almost gentle.
Watching Kagami hurl all his might against him, Aizen smiled faintly and raised a single finger.
"Then allow me to teach you a simple truth: never use the techniques you learned… against their creator."
His voice turned cold.
"Hadō Number Ninety-One: Senjū Kōten Taihō."
Countless beams of light erupted around Aizen, like pillars of divine retribution. They ascended and exploded toward the sky, colliding with the descending Susanoo.
A thunderous explosion swallowed everything—the flames, the illusionary city, the roaring wind.
For a brief moment, Kagami's Susanoo staggered, its armor cracking and scattering fragments of ash.
Yet even as it began to mend, Kagami's lips curled into a grim smile. He thought he had survived—until he heard Aizen's voice again.
"Hadō Number Ninety-Six: Ittō Kasō."
The words reached his ears like a whisper from the void.
In the blink of an eye, everything stopped.
The massive Susanoo shattered like glass. The reflection of burning Konoha dissolved into nothingness.
Before the stunned villagers could comprehend what had happened, a massive skeletal figure—three-pronged and fractured—fell from the sky, crashing into Aizen's courtyard.
Kagami, wrapped within the wreckage, lay motionless.
Everything had gone according to plan—from the rebellion to the confrontation to the very end.
Aizen's only disappointment was clear in his quiet sigh.
"As expected, the fusion failed. Chakra and soul power still reject one another. I suppose I'll need real-world measurements for further analysis…"
He snapped his fingers.
The enormous skeletal form vanished instantly, erased from existence as though it had never been there.
Moments later, the sky began to clear. The suffocating heat dissipated.
The first raindrops fell, tapping softly against the scorched earth.
The villagers, finally breathing freely, looked up at the clouds.
A storm was coming—but to them, it was a blessing.
They thought the lightning and thunder were simply signs of rain, unaware of the godlike struggle that had just rewritten their skies.
Tomorrow, they believed, would be a good day.
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