Meet The One [LUD-PRIVATE]

Artist: N/A - Song: N/A - Word Count: 942

Ahhhhhh. Soul Society, a heaven for all pluses, a home for all shinigamis and a hell for those are involved in the dark side of this so-called 'heaven'. This world has a balance between Good and Evil, so perfect that even the heavens have its own evil will that runs secretly in the edges of the Soul Society, and of course, there are some that experienced the horror of being apart of that darkness and fallen to the world where it would be hard to imagine, having drugs injected right into the bloodstream, all of the different types, experiments and even surgery, all done illegally. A painful experience, so painful that it just drives you to crack open their skull, pull out their brain and make sure they regret being alive in this world. It is indeed hard to maintain one's sanity at that point after going through those harsh experiences, all in their deepest memories. Fear, regret, those emotions were locked away together with the experiences felt in the past, hence why a few survivors had already lost their sanity, their humanity, their 'self'.

Lying down on a bed that belongs to the 8th Division, lies a young man who was sleeping soundly on the cozy pillow, legs crossed and his hands locked together on his stomach. It was a peaceful nap for the looks of it, with his face shadowed by the hood of his jacket, two cat ears popping out from the jacket's hoodie as seem to potray his liking for cats, but may not be accurate at the same time. His face would be hard to see even close-up, eyes closed and his mouth was the only visible thing that was not covered by the shadow of the hood. They were closed, breathing in a normal rate and in its calm and collected state wihout any worries, a carefree expression, for a male who is sleeping in the barracks. A black shirt worn behind the unbuttoned jacket, it had a unique symbol on the center of the shirt, something that he had designed originally to suit himself as a person, something to easily recognize him by these symbol, something unique personally for himself and no one else. A trait that he wants to create for his own liking and style. That applies to the rest of his clothes as well, from jackets, pants to his gloves, all of them would at least have one symbol that he had designed. Pretty much a rarity if he ever wore a shinigami robe, but then, it'll be impossible for him to wear one other than the 8th Division badge that he brings with him in order to verify himself as one of its seated members if he ever to enter Seireitei and past those gate guardians.

Well, this young man was none other than Hisao Yazaki, a nameless shinigami before he gave himself this damned name after the project, if he had remembered how it was named, 'Project Particle Core'. A gruesome experiment, but instead of going through a huge details with it, the general purpose of the existence of this corrupted underground experiment was only for one purpose, to create 'the Perfect One', the 'Perfect Being', a being that can reach godhood by trying various ways and even surgeries in order to create an artificial god by their own hands. It did ended up in a failure when they made a mistake in trying to increase his intelligence as well, since they want an omnipotence being, then an omniscience being was required, hence why they forced him to read as much as possible and gain as much knowledge as possible to a point where he should know everything about the world, but in the end, it would be his escape with that knowledge. Groaning from his sleep, the young man stretched lightly, before sitting up from his bed and yawning from his awakening. It was a tiring day, with his hand sliding into his hoodie and touching against his forehead, still drowsy from his sleep, while his thoughts was scattered from the past, the experiment that split his brain open and shoved a cyberbrain into his head. Something that cannot be forgotten, a scar that is left in his body and soul.

Waving his fingers, it was to get his weapons back into position when all six of them, the mechanized weapon he had created for his own convenience in both of his combat and social life, they would float behind his back in a wing-like formation, sometimes circulating him if he wanted to. They are the Nasods, as he named these mechanized weapons. Tougher than they look, they hold different abilities which Hisao can't do by himself , until then, they provide a major support in his combat and considered as his toughest arsenal that can make sure his enemies tremble in fear. While Hisao is not a good physical fighter, he makes a terrifying feat in ranged combat, depicted as a 'monster' for his coordination skills and accuracy with these weapons. Knocking the details off, it was the time to listen to the blabbering of his captain's words again. Himself as the 5th Seat, he really doesn't want to do shit with the Division, nor together with the members. What really interests him the most of them all though, is that there is someone familiar in this squad that he couldn't point it out. Just who the hell is it? Well, he couldn't care less before standing up from his bed, hands slid to the pockets of his jacket before preparing to go out of his barracks.

"Tch.. What a shitty day."