Human clones.
Famous as a major debate in religious and ethical right and wrong, synonymous with biological taboos denounced as rebellion against God and blasphemy against life. Yet simultaneously understood as a rational solution for unavoidable matters like organ transplants and clone soldiers involving sacrifice and loss—a problem embodying an extremely clear-cut dualistic dilemma.
Due to that straightforward simplicity, it's often used as creative story material—an eternal theme widely recognized as realistic sci-fi horror.
And now.
Before my eyes, a blood crystal of life blasphemy produced through research among the most brutal in countless clone stories shone abominably.
"—Should I call it the limits of spiritual technology? I couldn't manifest spiritual power above a certain level in artificial souls. Every soul clone could only possess at most about twenty percent of your power."
Aizen-sama's usual thin smile revealed a Hōgyoku manufacturing method more evil than Fullmetal's Philosopher's Stone. A Hinamori clone plan rivaling the Sisters project.
But perfectionist Aizen-sama apparently wasn't satisfied even with that. To perfect the incomplete Hinamori clones, he'd reached for further forbidden territory.
"The spiritual pressure I could manifest through spiritual technology was twenty percent. Surpassing that wall required a paradigm shift. For example—ingenuity like constructing five incomplete souls separately from the start, then recombining them into one."
"...Eh, that means..."
"You understand, don't you? I forcibly reproduced the soul qualities of the Soul King—master of the void to whose rule all submit—using the Hōgyoku's power."
There was no expression beyond speechlessness. In other words, this man had created not just my clone but Exodia.
Subjected to ultimate dignity destruction surpassing even the Soul King, I let my gaze wander vacantly...
"—What's wrong? You look pale."
And saw Aizen Sōsuke wearing the most delighted smile ever.
"Eh..."
"That's unlike you, Momo. Your soul is no longer trash like back then. Why do you show such frightened eyes?"
Tiger's-eye pupils shining through narrowed eyelid gaps were laughing. These were the evil eyes Aizen-sama showed when trying to bully me.
...As expected, his reasons for creating a Hōgyoku for me contained both goodwill and malice.
Closing my open mouth, I thought quickly. Aizen-sama bullying me was normal, but this exceeded the realm of teasing in scale. Meaning this wasn't play but—
(...A challenge.)
Right—Aizen-sama was always someone with infinite ambition plotting to defeat those who'd dominate him. Such a person called himself "the story's clown" while simultaneously calling me, who did as I pleased in this world, a "god."
"...Ah."
Then I realized.
Could Aizen-sama's true intent in creating this Hōgyoku be his challenge to the "god me" he spoke of?
Shaking my self-awareness by creating clones, then dropping those clones into a state resembling the Soul King whom Aizen-sama utterly despised, finally making them the means to create a Hōgyoku bringing tremendous benefits.
As a "clown," disgracing a god, then observing what reaction that disrespected god would show when offered the ultimate compensation.
"...Mmph."
My cheeks puffed reflexively. Though I held countless emotions, my conclusion was singular.
How base, and yet...
—What a stylish provocation...!
Right now, I was being perfectly mounted via a method I'd never even conceived, with escape routes even prepared. If this meticulously crafted mental attack wasn't stylish, what was?
Moreover, because I realized fears like clone existence leading to my ego collapse, or guilt over my Hōgyoku completing through clone sacrifice—all such emotions had been orchestrated by Aizen-sama—it all somehow suddenly didn't matter. That conversely made me feel rescued by Aizen-sama, intensifying my sense of defeat.
Kuh, so frustrating!
"...D-don't get too full of yourself over this...!"
Hmph, I'd acknowledge Aizen-sama was worthy. I'd honestly admit defeat this time. (Trembling voice)
But since I was frustrated, I glared sharply at his face, only to have gleaming white teeth shown instead of flinching. Ugigigigi...!
Thus poor Momo-chan suffered mental defeat to Stylish Master Aizen Sōsuke.
...But Aizen-sama's true triumphant advance was only beginning.
"—Now then. My apologies for talking so long."
Still wearing that evil face, he calmly spoke.
"Since we have the chance, I'd like to see that Hōgyoku synchronize with you for the final test."
"...You're still plotting something, aren't you?"
"No? I thought I'd clear up your seemingly displeased misunderstanding."
A strange thing to call a misunderstanding. Suspicion knew no bounds, but having no reason to refuse, I held out a finger toward the peach-colored Hōgyoku while showing a dubious face.
Then...
"...ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... ro-chan... chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan... ro-chan... Shiro-chan... ro-chan... Shi... chan..."
"—?!?!"
I reflexively leaped back.
What flowed through my touching fingertip were countless thoughts. It was a skin-crawling sensation like being whispered to simultaneously by a massive concert crowd.
"Wh-what is this..."
"Interesting. So you can hear their voices after all."
Aizen-sama gazed with interest at me hugging myself pale. Timidly listening to the Hōgyoku's thoughts still echoing in my head, I finally understood their meaning.
"This... all of them... my artificial souls...?"
"Correct. Because that's the promise I made with them."
"...Promise?"
Unable to understand, I questioned by parroting.
"When all your artificial souls gathered, I assembled them and taught them one truth. The identity and reason for birth of those who'd believed they themselves were Hinamori Momo."
He must have thoroughly enjoyed such a brutal spectacle. Imagining my clones' tragedy made me groggy again.
But Aizen-sama's story had a continuation connecting to that "promise."
"Humans are social lifeforms yet cling to individual identity. Indeed, your artificial souls showed considerable shock upon learning they were imitations—until learning their reason for birth."
"...Eh?"
A confused voice spilled from my mouth.
"Momo, you're the original. Therefore, you'll notice and understand their wish faster than anyone."
What was that? Clone wishes would be despairing for death, resenting the creator, or replacing the original. Either way, tragic endings.
Knowing you're fake, moreover knowing you were born to become Hōgyoku food strengthening the original—even I would...
...
...Wait. Wait a minute.
"Really, you never bore me. I've never so clearly observed the difference between human and god as then. A truly interesting moment."
"No, no no no no."
Aizen-sama's knowing laugh seemed tinged with exasperation as if remembering something.
Oi, don't lie. Even I couldn't prioritize that knowing I was a clone. Couldn't. I could...
"...C-couldn't, right?"
And Aizen-sama's answer was told entirely by that lewd smile.
"The compensation they wished from me was one thing."
"Wait stop I don't want to heeeear!"
Without being drowned by my futile struggles, the sacrificed clones' final wish Aizen-sama revealed was utterly absurd content.
—Preservation of consciousness to observe Hitsugaya Toshiro's wailing alongside you.
...Shiro-chan.
Apparently, to see your clouded face, I was truly a genuine lunatic who'd gladly throw away not just life but even ego itself.
Plus, if the clones wished to become the Hōgyoku, I was completely the clown for being shaken!
Dammit, Aizen-samaaaa...!
***
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