"Director!" Phil Coulson's voice echoed through the encrypted channel. "According to the NASA telemetry report, orbital weather patterns are completely normal. There are no physical traces of meteorites or debris in near-Earth space either."
Coulson paused, scanning the printout in his hand. "However, I retrieved the regional high-density energy readings from the hour preceding the meteor shower. Just before the phenomenon manifested, at the exact coordinates where those Gods of Death gathered... there was a catastrophic, off-the-charts energy reaction."
In the S.H.I.E.L.D. command center, Director Nick Fury fell into a deep, heavy silence for a moment after hearing Coulson's report.
"Bring the raw data and fall back to base immediately," Fury ordered, his tone dark.
Since civilian agencies like NASA had zero actionable clues, S.H.I.E.L.D. could only rely on its own classified grid now. Hanging up the secure line, Fury immediately dialed the central S.H.I.E.L.D. orbital surveillance desk.
"Re-angle every available spy satellite over the Los Angeles sector," Fury barked. "I want to know exactly what those Gods of Death are doing down there."
Meanwhile, at the former site of Village, the scorched bedrock had turned completely, brilliantly white. The sheer volume of spiritual power gathered at this single coordinate was now dense enough to directly rival the atmospheric pressure of Hell itself.
"Prepare for immediate spatial impact," Mayuri Kurotsuchi warned, glancing down at the biological sensor in his hand as its digital gauges violently maxed out.
Hearing Mayuri's sharp warning, Kyōraku Shunsui waved his hand toward the lower-seat Barrier Corps stationed across the perimeter. Instantly, the ordinary Shinigami scattered to a safe distance, leaving only the Captain-level combatants to stand guard over the epicenter.
BOOM!
The blinding light covering the entire floor of Village suddenly surged violently. Abruptly, the compressed energy erupted straight up toward the heavens in a colossal, blinding pillar of pure spiritual power that pierced through the clouds and reached directly into upper space.
The raw density of the beam was so immense that dozens of jagged, void-black spatial cracks began spider-webbing across the surrounding atmosphere.
"Are those Holy Souls trying to return to their original realm?" Jūshirō Ukitake muttered, his brow furrowed as he watched the faint, pristine white specters floating within the rising pillar of light.
Hearing his quiet remark, Kyōraku Shunsui adjusted his straw hat, his usually flippant expression turning somber. "It doesn't matter either way, Jūshirō. All our Seireitei requires is the anchoring of this heavy spiritual land."
Shunsui looked up at the drifting specters. These Holy Souls had once been grand, sacred warriors in their own right. However, the true tragedy was... they seemed to have been completely abandoned by their Creator.
Down on the ground, Chōjirō Sasakibe, acting as operational commander for the perimeter, firmly gripped the hilt of his rapier-style Zanpakutō.
"All units, stay sharp!" Sasakibe shouted. "Watch your sectors! The native demons will never let a spatial rupture of this magnitude pass!"
Looking at the jagged spatial rifts torn open by the spiritual pillar, Sasakibe's face grew grave. The dimension closest in proximity to Earth's reality was Hell itself. How could the starving denizens of the Pit pass up such a glorious opportunity to cross over?
Sure enough, just as Sasakibe warned, demonic hands reached out from the void cracks, their jagged claws tightly gripping the edges of space. A second later, grotesque heads of various monstrous shapes began forcing their way through the narrow fissures.
"Earth!"
"This is really Earth!"
"Fresh air! Fresh, unsalted human souls!!"
A massive, dog-headed demon was the first to locate the breach. Before it could even force its muscular body through the rift, its snout poked into human reality, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air. Compared to the sulfurous, choking miasma of Hell, Earth's atmosphere was a heavenly delicacy.
The dog-headed demon let out an ecstatic howl.
FLASH!
A sharp streak of lightning zipped through the air.
"Pierce him, Gonryūmaru!"
The demon's severed head tumbled onto the white bedrock, thick white smoke rising from its neck. Not a single drop of blood flowed from the clean, cauterized wound.
Chōjirō Sasakibe flicked his sword to the side, then immediately raised the tip to point directly at the tear in space.
"Engage!" Sasakibe roared. "We cannot allow these low-level beasts to disrupt the Captain-Commander's deployment!"
Behind Sasakibe, hundreds of Shinigami deployed Shunpo simultaneously. Countless black-robed figures flashed across the sky. Every demon desperately struggling to emerge from the spatial rifts was brutally met with the sharp edge of a Zanpakutō before its physical body could break free.
An intense, chaotic battle erupted across the lower perimeter. Yet as the spiritual pillar continued to roar into space, more and more spatial rifts tore open across the sky, releasing stronger demons capable of breaking through the defensive line.
Despite the growing chaos below, the Captains hovering above remained entirely focused and calm, utterly unmoved by the skirmishes.
Within the central pillar of light, the purified Holy Souls wandered aimlessly, as if desperately searching for a way home. But after centuries of imprisonment within Mephisto's contract, they seemed completely lost, unable to find the divine path they had originally come from.
"Give it up, my little lost sheep," a smooth, magnetic male voice echoed through the entire sector. "He has always been like this. He leaves you behind."
The exact microsecond that voice resonated, the wandering Holy Souls inside the spiritual pillar froze in unison.
A handsome, remarkably elegant man wearing a impeccably tailored black suit appeared out of thin air. He stood casually in mid-air, hovering right across from the line of Captains with his hands resting in his trousers pockets.
"Hi! Hello, everyone!" the man smiled, offering a warm, charismatic wave. "Thank you all so much! Truly! If it weren't for you fine gentlemen of the Soul Society, I honestly don't know how much longer it would have taken for my true self to physically enter the human world. That damned planetary barrier set up by the Sorcerer Supreme was such a tedious nuisance."
Elegant. Exceptionally elegant. Even while casually dropping curses, his posture remained untouched.
The Son of the Dawn. The Fallen Angel. Satan. King of Hell.
Lucifer Morningstar.
Seeing the newcomer, even Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni's stern expression darkened significantly. His knuckles tightened around his oak cane, his single open eye flashing with immense caution.
No one had anticipated that the supreme sovereign of Hell himself, Lucifer, would personally manifest at this precise location. And according to his own words... this was no remote avatar. His true, physical self had crossed the threshold.
'So this entire deployment was rigged from the very start,' Kyōraku Shunsui realized, his jaw clenching as he took a cautious step forward.
"So... this vital intelligence regarding the Contract of San Venganza..." Shunsui asked, locking eyes with Lucifer, "...you were the puppet master who leaked it to our scout units?"
Hearing the question, Lucifer let out a smooth, delighted chuckle.
"Of course, my dear Captain," Lucifer admitted freely. "Otherwise, why would you prideful Gods of Death have been so eagerly motivated to come to Earth and release these trapped Holy Souls? Do you have any idea how thrilled I was when I learned your Zanpakutō could permanently purify corrupted spirits? It was even more joyful than the day I broke free from my Old Man's constraints!"
Lucifer shook his head in theatrical exasperation. "That idiot Mephisto managed to hoard these Holy Souls for centuries, yet he had absolutely zero vision for their true utility. He actually tried to corrupt them into his own petty spirits of vengeance! What an absolute, tragic waste of divine raw material!"
Lucifer made no effort to hide his absolute disdain for Mephisto, treating his fellow Hell Lord like an illiterate child playing with nuclear launch codes.
"Do you know why your journey through the lower levels of Hell was so remarkably smooth?" Lucifer continued, looking at the Shinigami as if they were prized trophies. "Why no high-tier demonic warlords mobilized to block your Seireitei's expansion? It was all meticulously orchestrated for this exact, magnificent moment!"
Lucifer threw his arms wide in celebration.
"Purify the Holy Souls! Harness their concentrated, divine origin to forcefully punch a hole straight through the Sorcerer Supreme's Sanctum Sanctorum barrier! From this night forward... the human world becomes Hell's unrestricted backyard!"
Lucifer smiled warmly, nodding approvingly at Yamamoto. "You have completed your assigned task brilliantly. I am thoroughly satisfied."
He gestured casually toward the battlefield below. "Go on then, strive for your new domain. As a modest reward for your hard work, I have granted your Seireitei the chance to compete fairly for this territory against Azazel's vanguard. I promise I will not personally interfere in your little territorial struggle."
Standing elegantly in the air, Lucifer didn't display a single shred of aggressive magical power. Yet, relying purely on his presence and words, he held the entire lineup of Gotei 13 Captains completely frozen in place, hesitant to launch a single preemptive strike.
.....
.....
.....
Give me powerstones.
Support me and read advance chapters on patreon.com/ImmortalDaoWriter