Shiki Soku Zeku

[Yoshimitsu]

“Kan...” Slow. Stretched. Musical. “Ze...” Syllabic. Symbolic. Calming. “On...” Peace shall soon arrive.

Darkly lit was the chamber of ritual. There stood but only three figures as candle light flickered and danced illumination on their faces. Each wore a mask. “Na...” One was a mask for this very tradition. “Mu...” One held the visage of the inheritor. “Butsu...” One stood for the passing of a legacy. They chanted in a tight circle, hands on knees, heads bowed in reverence. In the center lie a deep purple relic, glowing faintly as their ancient language awoken the power within it.

“Yo...” Glow. Power. Strength. “Butsu...” Sacred. Beautiful. Venerated. “U...” Drawn for emphasis. “In...” Drawn for life.

They spoke as one. Their roles all different, but in this moment of time and space, all one. Their breath came in as one being and when they exhaled deeply, they exhaled in time. Sacred tradition dictated all must be perfect within the chamber. They put their “selves” away to accomplish a singular purpose. “Yo...” One goal all three must attain in harmony. “Butsu...” One giving up life so the other may succeed in theirs. “U...” One receiving life to wield the power of all those in their great and long ancestry. “En...” One there to mediate the passing of souls, to aid in taking and giving, bestowing power to uphold the chain.

“Bup-po...” Life. Death. Rebirth. “So...” Eternal. “En...” Destiny.

Soon the warmth of the fire light was replaced with the ethereal energy of the object they chanted over. They gave power to it and in turn it gave power to the two figures sitting across from each other. None had ever seen the true face of the old, except for the face of the new. This would be the last time the new face would ever be seen until the day this ritual was to repeat itself. “Jo...” This moment was meant to last an eternity. “Raku...” It was a joyous occasion, even if death were a party to it. “Ga...”This moment defined the self and each role they played both leading into the future and the trailing of the past. “Jo...” The purity of this sacrifice added to the power of the relic as they spoke their incantations.

[Yoshimitsu]

“Cho...” Beginnings. Sunrise. “Nen...” Contemplation. Meditation. “Kan...” Honor. “Ze...” Respect. “On...” Integrity.

“Bo...” Endings. Sunset. “Nen...” Reflection. Reminiscence. “Kan...” Celebrated. “Ze...” Legacy. “On...” Established.

Air sparked with charged energy. It was almost time. The zenith of the chanting become long drawn out sounds, almost musical, still able to distinguish the syllables of each word. “Nen...” Purple illumination gave way to blue, small arcs of electricity dancing around the three figures. “Nen...” One shape took a new sitting position. Two knees tucked under, hands on thighs, head bowed in reverence. “Ju...” The candles flickered and died, casting the chamber in the growing light of the object in the center. “Shin...” All three spoke as one, in sync, harmonizing and creating an all enveloping sound that filled the space they shared. “Ki...” The arm extended, hand clutching the powerful emblem in the center, pulling it close as they continued their chanting.

The one who played mediator stood slowly. Moving very precisely as though each contraction of their muscles were a part of the ritual. In their hand a weapon. A long blade, reflecting the glow and energy of the relic. Long. Curved. Sharp. “Nen...” The final one remained seated in their original position. Putting all their spirit into each word. “Nen...” The one holding the relic lifted it high, sparks running between the old and new figures. This too was a weapon. An ancient one. Imbued with millennia of power and soul. Cursed for those with impure intentions. The weapon was turned toward the one holding it. “Fu...” The sound drowned out the crackling of energy, their chanting now the loudest within the chamber, becoming deafening. Roaring. Exploding. “Ri...” In one swift movement the holy weapon pierced the old one. Ritualistic robes slashed. Flesh pierced. Organs run through. So finely accurate that the spine was neatly cut as the weapon slipped out the back. The mediator held their blade high, preparing the death blow as they all continued the chant. Yet this ritual was not meant to be completed as the Gods had something else planned. In a bright flash, far brighter than the light emitting from the sacred weapon, the old one was gone. The sacrifice gone. The balance...upset.

“Shi...” His eyes opened. The spiritual energy completely void. White surrounded him. He was not in the throes of exquisite death. He was alive. Realization dawned. “iiiiiiiiiit...”

[Yoshimitsu]

His gaze cast downward, noticing the sacred blade Yoshimitsu in his belly. Leaning his head back, he sighed when saw the tip poking out the back. Already his sense of humor was coming. A light chuckle fell from his lips as he thought, “Not the first time I woke up being penetrated.” He looked back up as he sensed eyes watching him. Show time.

Hidden by bent light, a soft silhouette sat in the distance. Was this God? Or an imposter? Most likely a tricky trickster trying deceitfully deceive the ninja (you know you're a samurai, quit lying). In time the figure spoke, leaving the costumed mystic speechless. Literally.

You can take my tongue, but you can't take my wit you...

“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse.”

Seems like your name should be “Ego”. But I hear there's an entire planet with that name. With that big head, any relation?

“You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”

What if I wished the ancient curse of Suzume the Harlot on you? Would I get my wish and you'd suck a thousand dicks?

The silly thing playing with his toys handed his newest addition a mystical orb emitting rainbows of every color. He had no choice but to accept the orb, staring into it through his mask. “This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most.”

Oh ho...perhaps this isn't a bad alternative to death after all.

“You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.”

Hmm...so others are gathering power to come for you. So...a competition? And things to take from others?

“That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”

You won't have to wait long...Yoshimitsu strikes like lightning in the early hours, dark and foreboding before light flashes dangerously and is gone as quickly as it arrived. Damn I'm good at poetry!

[Yoshimitsu]

But all kidding aside, Yoshimitsu was not very pleased with this change of scenery. Never before had the ritual of Yoshimitsu been interrupted and with the cursed blade in the midst of its theatrics, he wasn't so sure how it would react. Further, he didn't know what the ramifications were for denying the spiritual ascension of the next Manji Ryu leader. Oh boy, what were the consequences for committing seppuku with Yoshimitsu? The souls of all the leaders rested within this blade and here he sat, eyes casting downward once more to see the blade still in his midsection, middle of adding his own to it.

Consider his shit spooked.

Classically Yoshimitsu, the collective Yoshimitsu, was meant to inspire superstition and fear of retribution. What was more terrifying than a lone warrior coming for you over and over and over again, never waning in strength, never losing momentum, never giving up? Not much. Further, it's a face you never truly see. Always a mask. And if you break that mask? Hell, if you're lucky enough to land a hit on the son of a bitch you'd think you'd deserve to see his true face, right? Eff that ess, there's another mask underneath. He represented divine intervening judgment. He was karma incarnate. He was the laughing face of crippling irony, the howling hyena of “you fucked up, bro.”. If you were stupid enough to mess with an intimidating armored wild man with a cursed blade, you're gonna have a bad time. Not only did he have skills beyond most human limits, he was a master of mystical arts, which is where superstition came in. Which is where we return to...

...Seriously, his shit was spooked.

With a cautious, tentative hand, he grasped the hilt of the katana, feeling the familiar tingle of a blade against internal organs. In one sick sounding movement, he slid the ancient weapon through his body and out of the slim wound it left behind. He watched with a curious eye from behind his face as blood ran along the hi, letting gravity pull it to the kissaki as it dripped to the impossibly white ground. A thick purple miasma dropped like dense fog from the katana. Yoshimitsu, the eternal blade, raged and did not hide its fury. He didn't know what he could do to calm the blade this time around. Normally it was the blood of the wicked that satisfied its dark needs. But he could hear it. Feel it. The cycle was broken and it was not pleased by that fact. He kept it from from its saya, allowing it to spill its venomous poison in smoky wisps. Let it shout, kick and scream for now.

[Yoshimitsu]

In his opposing hand was the orb of Omnilium. He inspected it, turning the sphere over in his palm, balancing it on fingers, on the back of his hand, playing with it over and over as he watched it. This was his power source, huh? Little on the small side now that he was thinking it over. Let's put this to the test, hm? He slipped the orb into his obi, freeing up his hand to grip the katana properly. With some agility, Yoshimitsu sat in the basic lotus position, legs folded across each other as he held the weapon in front of him. Focus was never a problem and it wasn't now. Making pain go away, making thoughts disappear, shutting out the whole world; all it took was focus. And he focused on what he always did when he was in the worst situations...

...Breasts or ass?

While asses always looked amazing, especially in his village where short kimono were a thing, there was the undeniable allure of breasts. The sacred flesh of a woman that (hopefully) only women had. He could be in a bath house with his men and stare at their bare chests and never even come close to relishing the sight. But men sure had asses. Therefore breasts won in superiority. Not to mention they were sensitive and soft. And they came in the most wonderful shapes and sizes. Yoshimitsu was by no means discriminatory, breasts of all kinds were appreciated. They were as varied as his Zen Garden designs. Oh and the nipples! The colors! The feels! He could write poems upon poems about the fruits and berries of nature that they resembled. There definitely was quite a many layers to breasts and all they had to offer as divine fruits of pleasure.

But asses...his mind wandered back to the numerous easy times he was able to cop a feel. Far less intruding than leaping upon women to feel their breasts. Passing by, “oh excuse me, excuse me, wow what a great ass you have! Oops, I didn't mean to, honest!” Ah yes, grabbing them was half the fun when it came to training his skills of stealth. Oh ho, and let's not forget the days of youth, secret rendezvous' at night with young maidens. Those short kimono? Yes, yes, fun was had. There were always gracious handfuls to be taken whether leading to the sweet embraces or in the middle of them. Ah, which were better? It was a subject he had spent many years contemplating ever since he became leader of the Manji Ryu. The day he found the answer would be the day he found true enlightenment.

Now while it would have been nice to summon female body parts with his Omnilium Orb, that wasn't his intent. Shutting everything out, focusing on the finer aspects of the female form, Yoshimitsu was able to direct his energy on sealing the wound he had inflicted on himself. Strangely, his clothing was also repaired. Very interesting. Perhaps with the use of Omnilium he could increase some of his other innate abilities or improve on his skills. Growing the self through determination and hard work was a precept he had lived by his whole life. This was just a new take on it that he could jump into immediately.

Sheathing the katana, Yoshimitsu twisted his torso, lifted himself on his hands and hopped to his feet. It was time to adjust to this new setting and move on. His focus shifted first from lady parts to healing himself to finding out where exactly he was. But underneath the immediate priorities lie the one he knew would have to contend with: Returning home and correcting the imbalance this Omni created. He was a virtuous (mostly), honorable (not really), saintly (...really?) man, but above all he believed in the sacred rites of the Yoshimitsu line and the followings of Buddhism. What Omni did wasn't just blasphemy, it was down right abhorrent and disgusting to the ritual and everything they believed as a clan. Righteous indignation was flowing through him and he would not stop until he found this Omni and made him pay for his ignorance. Even if he had to tear this whole Omniverse apart, scouring all its depths for an army, gain the power of Gods and climb the stairway to heaven (there's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold...). He didn't know how long Yoshimitsu (the sword, people) would last in this infuriated state, but even if it unleashed some form of punishment on Yoshimitsu (the person, y'all), he would not stop until he reclaimed everything taken from Yoshimitsu (both of them, confused yet?).

Before him stood what was probably the most beautiful sight he could have ever seen. A fountain resembling the Longmen Falls. A cave structure barreling downward, reaching up and disappearing into the white sky. The mouth opened to reveal the multi-tiered falls, water cascading in a torrential fall. Shelves of rock creating an amazing illusion of stairs of water. At the end, the wide mouthed pool of clear water, so impossibly blue and clean that he could see the bottom and everything in between. Koi. Numerous amount of koi, all different colors and types. The orange and white, the black and golds, short little whiskers, some with long ones. Some eyes more pronounced than others. All content swimming around and enjoying each other's company. But he noticed one, one lone koi swimming up a frenzy, racing from one end to the other and going around in furious circles. This one wound itself up before spitting itself from the depths, tackling the unstoppable force of nature. One jump. Two jumps. Three jumps. It hit the first shelf, bolting its body from the impacting and attempting a fourth jump. It succeeded and managed a fifth. But the current proved stronger than the fish's will and spat it back down to the pool of reflection. It swam in slow circles, dazed no doubt. But as he continued staring into the small lake, he noticed it began its work all over again, racing back forth and pushing its own limits.

Yoshimitsu nodded. His grotesque mask shifting to show its wearer's approval. This is a great sign. He too would fight nature itself if it meant accomplishing his goals. He would rise up impossible odds and become the dragon that was once a lowly fish.

Oh and there were naked maidens all sunbathing around the falls and it wasn't large beach towels they were laying upon, they were sacks of gold. Giant sacks of gold. Giant. Sacks...of gold. Giggles, coins jingling, breasts bouncing, gold over flowing, healthy asses shaking. Ah...if he weren't Yoshimitsu, he would be taking a very long detour from divine vengeance.

Prying his stubborn eyes from the gorgeous view, Yoshimitsu looked about the falls, noticing in contrast from the stark whiteness surrounding him that there were small, barely visible shapes. He turned in a full circle, slowly so he could inspect what he could of each colored object in the distance. Eight. Well then. Looks like there was a hike ahead of him. He cast one last look at the beautiful sights and bid farewell.

He was facing north so...as the crow flies.

[Yoshimitsu]

Two hours of hopping games and songs. Two. Whole. Hours. If he wasn't so good at entertaining himself he probably would have killed himself. Or tried. Apparently that doesn't work here. Not like it ever worked before. But that is neither here nor there, what was here was a door. A giant one. Big and glowing like embers. Smoke pouring from it. Well. Apparently there were gates to hell and he found it. Pass!

Heading west proved to be another gate. This one looking extremely old and shoddy. Appearances were everything and this thing had no good appearance at all. Perhaps if he were Yoshimitsu the Humble he would accept it, but that guy accepted everything. A lot of standards dropped in that era. Again, neither here nor there. And neither was this gate! Pass!

“Shit man, I miss Terry...” The Stormtrooper leaned up against the gate to Coruscant, holding his gun loosely to his side.

“Terry? Just Terry?” The second didn't bother looking at his squadmate. Eyes forward, rifle at the ready. He had been vigilant since academy and he lasted this long well before this bullshit Omniverse and that's how he was gonna last until tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. “What about Jeff? What about Cortez? What about Vicks? Or you know...the thousands of others that have died in the exact same spot we're standing in that we graduated with?” It made him uneasy. Seemed like every five minutes some new Prime showed up and ripped one of their guys' heads off or kicked them in the balls until they coughed them up. “Damn, man, what about that weird ass who made us call him Carl Papa? What was so special about Terry?”

“Well...damn I miss them, too but you know...” The lackluster Trooper rolled his shoulders and found a new spot to get comfy on, “His wife made those bitchin' breakfast burritos for the morning crew. He was my partner so I always got fed...”

“Oh...dude yeah, those burritos were great. Can you believe that asshole Dredd stopped letting us attend funerals?” Still his eyes swept their perimeter, finger on the ring so he could snap straight to the trigger. Years of training used every day. “It's like, just because those other dipshits get killed on a daily basis now there are 'too many funerals to attend' and we can't go to the ones for the people we actually like.”

“Don't get me started. My buddy got killed a couple months back and I couldn't get the time off for his funeral. Totally devastated me.” He inspected his gun. Turning sideways and looking at the dirtying polish that was fading from lack of care. He'd clean it when he got home...said no Trooper ever.

“Wait...I'm your only buddy. Who the hell are you talking about?” The statement almost caused to look at his teammate. Almost. He stiffened and went back to keeping his guard up.

“Uh, that dude with the hot wife. I wanted to, you know...show her my support.” He was silent for a couple seconds. He could the other Trooper wasn't buying it. Deflect with humor! “And...my dick.”

“Knew it. At a funeral, man?”

“When else do you swoop in on another guy's wife? While he's alive?”

The warrior stepped through, hopping on one leg, arm extended, counting his steps. So far he was in the thousands. Perfect balance. Never faltering. Not even the slightest need to correct for balance. The Stormtroopers watched in confusion, the lazier of the two forgetting to even draw his rifle. The other just watched with tense curiosity as he passed by, weapon drawn on him with each jump. Yoshimitsu stopped three feet past the guards. He stood there in his pose for what felt like hours. Then he hopped backwards. Pivoted on one foot to face the soldiers. Bowed his masked face and stared at the two through the eyes of his facade, “Aisatsu, aisatsu!” And he hopped along his merry way.

“The fuck was that?” The Trooper asked as he leaned against the wall.

“I have absolutely no idea...” The other said, defeated. “Man...fuck this place, remember when all we had to worry about was getting killed by Jedi?”

“Yeah, at least then we had like, ten other guys in front of us before some sword wielding magician got to us.”

[Yoshimitsu]

Heading south, finding that this negative space was circular, not squared off like a normal building. And here at the southwest corner he found a beautiful gate with trees crossing over like a large triangular entrance. He wondered if the beaches there were of the naked ladies playing volley ball kind or the stranded men who talk to volley balls kind. He didn't know if these gates were a one way in, no way out deal and he wasn't going to let his tanto do all the thinking and get him stuck with a bunch of men. Pass!

Southmost was a gate of snow and ice. That meant cold. That meant freezing. That meant sticky, slushy, wet snow. Pass, pass, pass.

The next gate resembled the one of shoddy stone work, only this one was overrun with vines. It seemed almost acceptable. The right amount of intrigue and mystery. The promise of fun times ahead and possibly treasures to steal or people to amass an army. But like Goldilocks this one just wasn't right. He had no idea how long he had been wandering this great white expanse, but he had long given up the hopping game and just walked from one gate to the next.

The stone work of the east gate was magnificently done! Beautiful work! Very well crafted. Oh and by the way? Yoshimitsu had no idea about mason work or what would be well worked or not. “Shiki Soku Zeku...” Without further hesitation, Yoshimitsu strut his fancy ass through the gate and found himself in a whole new world.

Whether he knew it or not, Yoshimitsu was drawn to this gate because the katana guided his path. The man, as all the men were, were fools. Playing games and getting distracted. He needed direction. And the blade sensed where the direction should be. It needed power. It needed blood. It needed a source to draw from and while it didn't know specifics...this new land felt like the right step toward the goal. That goal being the return home, taking out the soul and power of this host and pass on to the next. And if it can take the blood of evil ones in the process then so be it. At this point, even the innocent weren't safe. The whole balance was destroyed and anyone standing in its path of correcting the issue would be mowed down.