The Path Forward
The Garganta tore open with a deep hum, revealing the swirling void between worlds. Hueco Mundo’s dark, barren landscape stood behind them, and ahead lay the familiar light of the Soul Society.
Harry took one last look at the emptiness where Riddle had once stood. It felt strange—after everything, after years of fighting Voldemort in life, and now in death… it was finally over.
No Horcruxes. No Dark Lord. No lingering shadows of a war long fought.
Just silence.
Renji clapped him on the shoulder. “You coming, or you planning to set up a house here?”
Harry smirked slightly. “Not exactly my style.”
With that, the group stepped into the void, traveling back to the Soul Society.
The moment they arrived in the Seireitei, they were greeted with stares.
Shinigami paused in their duties, their eyes lingering on Harry as the group walked through the streets. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was something heavier.
Word had spread.
Ichigo nudged him. “Guess people noticed the ridiculous amount of energy you threw around.”
Harry sighed. He wasn’t surprised. Even he could feel that something about himself had shifted permanently.
Before he could dwell on it, a familiar voice rang out.
“Well, well, well! Look who survived Hueco Mundo.”
Harry turned to see Captain Kyōraku, his usual lazy grin in place, though his eyes held a sharp glint of curiosity. Beside him stood Captain Ukitake, who studied Harry with quiet intrigue.
Kyōraku tipped his hat. “So, how’d it go? I assume you didn’t just take a sightseeing tour.”
Ichigo crossed his arms. “Let’s just say it wasn’t your average Hollow hunt.”
Renji exhaled. “That’s an understatement.”
Ukitake’s gaze settled on Harry. “We felt your Reiatsu shift. Even from here, it was… different.”
Kyōraku nodded. “I don’t suppose you’d like to explain why half the Soul Society felt something ancient stirring from your general direction?”
Harry hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to explain it. How could he put into words the chains of fate snapping, the feeling of something primordial awakening inside him?
So he kept it simple.
“I called my Zanpakutō’s name,” he said, gripping the hilt of his scythe. “It’s called Mors Vincula—Chains of Death.”
Silence.
Kyōraku’s smile faltered for the first time.
Ukitake’s expression turned serious.
Renji muttered under his breath. “Well, that’s… ominous.”
Kyōraku rubbed his chin. “Mors Vincula, huh? Now that is a name with some weight.”
Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”
The captain sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know all the details, but there are very few recorded Zanpakutō with names that imply absolute finality. Even the strongest Shinigami’s weapons tend to focus on cutting, burning, or overwhelming. But binding death itself?”
He gave Harry a long, measuring look. “That’s something else entirely.”
Harry exhaled, tightening his grip on his scythe. He already knew his weapon was different. He felt it.
Ukitake spoke gently. “Whatever your Zanpakutō truly is, it has chosen you, Harry. That means the Soul Society will have to decide what to do next.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Decide what exactly?”
Kyōraku’s expression darkened slightly. “Whether you’re an anomaly to be watched… or a force to be feared.”
The weight of those words settled heavily over him.
He had won in Hueco Mundo. He had finally ended Riddle for good.
But now?
His real challenges were just beginning.