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KAIZEN
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Kaizen’s eyes lit with scarlet fire, and he slashed the Sound at Death. As he swung, the metal blade stretched and contorted until it became a flaming whip that wrapped around Death’s finger and snapped the entire hand from its body. Death’s sapping life-stream of Earth fizzled out with it.
The Horseman glanced at Kaizen, still uninterested and clearly unthreatened. He lifted his other hand toward the globe, and the stream resumed. Kaizen lashed his whip again and dismembered Death’s other arm.
Death tilted his head toward the globe, unfurled a massive tongue, and literally sucked out the Earth’s soul.
Conquest and Famine remain seated, Rukia thought. I’m ready to hunt.
Kaizen studied Death as his limbs reformed from his cloak’s black mist. His Regeneration still takes a few precious seconds.
Kaizen sprinted at Death—in another flash of fiery fury, the Sound transformed back into a katana, still ablaze. He hacked and slashed Death to pieces. He’s not even bothering to dodge, just pulling his limbs back into the mist as they fall. Speeding up his Regeneration won’t help, though.
Rukia remained silent.
The onslaught continued until Death retreated from the globe and became as ethereal as the night sky above them.
“You’ve nothing to say to me!?” Kaizen raised the Sound of Fury into a defensive position and circled his prey. “You killed my master, you killed my best friend. Now you want to kill everyone who’s left? Fight me. Fight!”
Still, Death stared silently. He healed himself while ethereal—a new skill—but Kaizen suspected that Death hesitated to fight for some other reason. Though enraged to be ignored, Kaizen knew his makeshift plan was working. Death returned to flesh and blood, and Kaizen delivered him a flurry of attacks to push The Horseman away from the globe. Death dodged each attack now, but after a dozen, Kaizen had gained enough distance.
“Rukia!”
Kaizen’s Familiar, a hefty red and white fox the size and build of a tiger, emerged from the shadows of the Altar. She leapt up towards the globe and bit it like a chew toy with her sharp fangs. Rukia thrashed the globe about, as if to break her prey’s neck, then she skulked off toward the battle behind them. Kaizen stepped between the fleeing fox and Death.
Famine again shot to her feet. Conquest hesitated but grabbed his warhammer. War yawned and, as he stretched his arms out, lifted his colossal battle ax in the air with a single hand. He cracked his neck, and Famine returned to her seat.
Death retreated from Kaizen and reached an arm behind his shoulder to draw his blade. Time slowed down for Kaizen. This is it, Rukia. Good work.
Death slashed the weapon's barren shaft down to his side. His black, misty cloak ripped away with the shaft and reassembled itself into the ghastly blade of his scythe, the Grim Reaper. The blade materialized in the shape of a massive, black wing.
The wing of a fallen angel. How appropriate.
Before the scythe’s construction was finished, Kaizen shifted his katana into a massive greatsword and crashed it down over Death’s head. The Horseman blocked the attack with just the flat of his scythe’s blade, mere inches from his exposed nasal cavities.
At last, Kaizen found himself in the endgame of a decades-long chess match. Nothing would be left behind. Rukia had escaped with the globe, and War, too invested in watching this fight, had detained Famine and Conquest. Kaizen could stop thinking about strategy, about what was lurking in the shadows, and focus solely on what stood before him. In the way of everything he’d ever wanted, and everyone he’d ever loved.
Kaizen slashed and sliced at Death in an all-out assault. Death barely blocked and parried each strike, but The Horseman gained his footing with each deflection. With each blow, Kaizen fed into his anger at being born a Sin, into his hatred for The Horseman he fought, and into his inner wrath. The flames around his eyes transitioned from scarlet into a fierce, glowing white.
“Let’s see if you can withstand this—”
> «« Flames of Hell »»
Kaizen’s entire body erupted into white flames, and every strike carried the rending power of eternal fire, struggle, and damnation.
And still, Death gained ground.
Master, and Ren… This one is for both of you.
Kaizen slashed up to make Death parry, then he chopped down to make Death halt the strike, which left Kaizen’s sword in position to thrust its point into Death’s exposed brain. But with just two bony fingers, Death pinched the tip of the greatsword’s blade and restrained its movement. Despite Kaizen’s resolve and power, he couldn’t move his sword forward to strike or backward to retreat.
Kaizen’s blood filled with Wrath, his innermost demon, his innate cardinal sin, and the flames around his eyes turned pitch black.
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> KAIZEN—NOW IS THE TIME TO MERGE.
“No!” Kaizen fought off an entirely different opponent, who both wasn’t there at the Altar but always present. I will finish this without you, demon.
Kaizen stared into the voids of Death’s eyes to focus on something other than his rage. The black flames surrounding his eyes dissipated. He took the only available opening, released his sword, and lunged under it toward Death. Kaizen trapped Death’s scythe arm and gripped him in a body lock. He harnessed all of his energy, every last drop of chi, and invoked his ultimate spell.
> «« Gates of Hell »»
Corroded, black metal gates materialized from the void. Kaizen's spell bent and warped them into a makeshift force field around both himself and Death, trapping them inside. He squeezed Death for dear life and even cut his cheek on his own sword stuck between them. Kaizen erupted in flames, and the inferno engulfed them both.
“I’ll drag you down to Hell with me!" The way we were always destined to go.
The flames scalded Kaizen’s skin and seared down to his muscles. It incinerated his organs until he could no longer see through his melted eyes. Still, he unleashed every ounce of energy available until the last possible moment, when his body could no longer sustain the self-inflicted punishment.
And then he died.
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Kaizen awoke to the sounds of smoldering embers and War’s deep, roaring laughter. His body had Regenerated enough to revive himself, and his eyes shifted back in their proper place and working condition, though not much else had. The charred temple around them burned and sizzled, and even the hallowed Altar of the Gods was scorched.
Did the force field hold long enough?
He rolled over and saw a cracked shield. His eyes trailed up, and his stomach dropped. Death towered above him and held onto the broken shield. The Horseman Regenerated his wounds. Kaizen wished his eyes hadn’t healed.
My shield, the Sound of Fury. But only I can use it. Me, Wrath, and—
“Oh,” Kaizen whispered. His heart skipped a beat. He felt so much ignorance, so much stupidity in that single moment. Kaizen coughed up more blood. “I see now.”
Cruel Fate. He dropped his head down to the ground with a thud. Horror overrode the dull yet constant pain. Kaizen laid there in disbelief.
“Ever the fool.”
The muffled voice came from the surrounding void. Death had finally spoken.
“Of course I can harness the power of the Sound.”
Rukia… Run…
Death tossed the shield aside like trash. It clattered on the stone floor, but Kaizen didn’t hear it. Death grabbed Kaizen’s hair and lifted him to his knees.
A tear streamed down Kaizen’s cheek. He felt guilt; he felt remorse. I've been here, in this moment before… But when was it? And why do I feel like the roles have reversed?
Kaizen couldn’t look Death in the eyes anymore. He averted his gaze to the other combatants on the battlefield, well beyond the Altar of the Gods. My enemies, my allies…my friends. All of them had stopped fighting each other to witness this deciding bout.
“This time, you will watch.”
The Horseman pulled back the Grim Reaper. Time slowed down. Wrath’s Rebellion, as they were called, all looked on in horror and defeat. Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride all boasted their wicked grins. Envy and Lust both looked upon Kaizen with pity and longing desire, of love that would never be.
Greed glared at Kaizen.
He was right before, about summoning Wrath. And I—
Death slashed his winged blade through the air. A wave of black energy surged from its edge and rushed the battlefield. Its arc grew wider as it swept across the expanse.
Kaizen watched as the single attack wiped out all fourteen combatants at once—six Sins, seven Virtues, and one fox Familiar. Rukia—I…
Kaizen waited for what felt like hours for them to Regenerate. Cold sweat dripped down his temple. His heartbeat quickened, and bile crept up his throat. No one moved, and none of the severed body parts connected themselves back together.
The constant weight of the Horseman’s fistful of hair pressed Kaizen down firmly into the ground.
“I am Death, you fool. When I kill something, it remains such.”
It.
It. We’re all just pawns in this stupid game of—
Pain ruptured Kaizen’s flesh and soul. It fused physical pain with the emotional torture of loss. His own Regeneration had finally repaired his nerves from their third-degree burns, and his pain receptors radiated violently. Agony mixed with the shock of his defeat, the shame of his arrogance, the finality of the coming Apocalypse, and the regret of it all.
It wasn’t enough. I wasn't enough. I should have listened to Greed and Wrath, and Integrated with him back then…
Death released his ironclad grip. Kaizen’s hair tumbled down in his face, and he gazed up at both the sun outside and the ethereal night sky inside the Altar.
“You bastard. You fucking traitor. I will kill you. I'll find you in the next Cycle, and I'll kill you myself. This whole time—”
“It was me. It’s always been me.”
Death’s voice echoed in the chambers. His message repeated over and over again, as if to taunt and torment.
“Better luck next time, Wrath.”
Wrath. How could you have been right? Why didn’t I listen and merge with you? I have always hated this world, always hated this, this shared destiny of ours.
Does that make us alike, after all? Am I truly Wrath?
Kaizen stared into Rukia’s lifeless eyes. Even in her final moments, his most loyal friend had turned to him, to look up at him one final time for help that never came.
No.
I am not you. I am…
“Kaizen.” Even through the pain and defeat, Kaizen regained his sense of honor and corrected his posture. He knelt before Death in a position of ceremonial execution customary to his homeland. “My name is Kaizen. Say it.”
Death stood still. Their eyes locked. The Horseman dropped his scythe to the ground. He drifted over to the cracked shield and picked it up. The Sound of Fury transformed back into its base form katana in his bony, lifeless hands.
“Farewell, then…Kaizen.”
Death lifted the sword—I will kill you—and cut Kaizen in two. His torso plopped down next to kneeling legs. Hot blood pooled around him.
Death hurtled the sword like a spear and pierced the globe by Rukia’s corpse, and then it flew back through the air into his skeletal hand.
Looks like you have a new Master, my old friend.
Famine cackled at Kaizen. An irritated Conquest shifted in his seat. War still twirled the pommel of his battle ax against the marble. His smile had faded long ago.
Kaizen saw the damage his own final attack had done to the temple, when his force field failed and the flames torched it. Some of the columns were destroyed. Pieces of marble continued to crumble all around. His vision faded to black around the edges, but he could still make out two images.
Death resumed the Rebirth Cycle, sucking out Earth’s soul, and a rounded slab of marble fell from a column by the night sky’s edge and onto the stairway to the Altar.
It rolled slowly down the steps and stopped near Kaizen's kneeling lower half.
Many emotions flooded Kaizen as he lay there dying—truly dying, for the first time—but none so strong as Wrath.
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