The black car ride back from the funeral was silent.
Juha Bach sat in the back seat, his eyes closed, his cane resting between his knees.
Ichigo sat opposite him, looking out at the rain-slicked streets of New York. He didn't need to be told where they were going.
As soon as they reached the tower, the elevator didn't stop at Ichigo's floor. It went straight to the top.
Juha Bach walked to his desk and sat down.
He didn't say anything for a long time. The pressure in the room was like a heavy blanket.
Outside, the neon lights of the city flickered, but inside, it felt like a tomb.
"You ignored my advice,"
Juha said finally. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a sharp edge.
"I told you not to step into the circles of others. Yet, you stood before the world and linked the name of Bach to the name of Stark."
Ichigo stood in the center of the room, his posture perfect.
He didn't look like a rebellious teenager; he looked like a young general.
"I didn't ignore it, Grandpa,"
Ichigo said calmly.
"I adapted it. You told me a King only moves when it benefits his people. Tony Stark is the most brilliant mind of our generation. Right now, he is broken. He is surrounded by people who want to steal his light."
Ichigo stepped closer to the desk.
"By protecting him today, I didn't just help a person. I made an investment. Tony is now in my debt. When he eventually rebuilds his empire—and he will—he won't forget who kept the dogs away when he was at his weakest. I am not just involving myself; I am putting a leash on the future of technology."
Juha Bach opened his eyes. He stared at Ichigo for a long time, searching for any sign of hesitation.
Slowly, the coldness in his gaze turned into a dark, satisfied amusement.
"A debt of the heart is often stronger than a debt of gold,"
Juha murmured. He leaned back in his chair.
"Very well. If you have chosen this path, you must see it to the end. Do not let him fall, but do not let him become your burden. A King does not carry his allies; he leads them."
"I understand,"
Ichigo bowed slightly.
"Go,"
Juha waved a hand.
"Prepare yourself. If you intend to play these games with the world's elite, your spirit must be as hard as diamond."
Ichigo returned to his room and locked the door.
He sat on the floor, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.
He took a deep breath, pulling his consciousness away from the physical world and diving deep into his soul.
The scenery changed instantly.
He was standing in his inner world. In his previous life, it had been a city of skyscrapers turned on their sides, constantly raining.
Now, thanks to the merge of universes, it was a vast, cosmic landscape.
The ground was made of polished white marble that stretched forever, reflecting a sky filled with swirling nebulas and burning stars.
"Well, well. Look who finally decided to drop by,"
A mocking, distorted voice echoed.
Standing on top of a floating white pillar was Shiro—Ichigo's inner Hollow.
He looked exactly like Ichigo, but his skin, hair, and clothes were a ghostly, inverted white.
He had a jagged, toothy grin on his face.
Next to him sat Zangetsu, the tall man in the tattered black cloak with sunglasses.
He looked at Ichigo with a stoic, fatherly expression.
"You've been busy, Ichigo,"
Zangetsu said softly.
"The world outside is changing, and your soul is changing with it."
But Ichigo's eyes weren't on them.
He was looking at the center of the world, where a massive, roaring sun of golden-red fire hung in the air.
It wasn't just heat; it felt like a living, breathing entity.
The Phoenix Force.
It was a small spark compared to its true cosmic self, but inside Ichigo's soul, it felt like an ocean of power.
It pulsed like a heartbeat, turning the white marble of his inner world into a glowing orange.
"It's loud, isn't it?"
Shiro laughed, jumping down from the pillar. He pointed at the fire.
"That bird-thing wants to burn everything. It doesn't like the rules. It doesn't like the 'noble' act you're putting on."
"It's part of me now,"
Ichigo said, walking toward the fire.
"Just like both of you."
Ichigo reached his hand into the air.
"It's time to see the results of the training. Zangetsu!"
Usually, when Ichigo called his sword, a large black cleaver would appear.
But as he grasped the air this time, the inner world began to shake.
The shadows from Zangetsu and the white light from Shiro swirled together, pulled in by the gravitational force of the Phoenix fire.
A blinding light filled his vision. When it cleared, Ichigo was holding a new weapon.
It wasn't a giant butcher knife anymore. It was a beautiful, elegant katana.
The hilt was wrapped in white silk, and the guard was shaped like a phoenix with its wings spread.
The blade itself wasn't steel—it was a dark, translucent black that seemed to hold the stars of the nebula within it.
"It's different,"
Ichigo whispered, feeling the weight.
"We have evolved,"
Zangetsu explained.
"Because your bones are Adamantium and your mind is a Sorcerer's, the blade has become a focus for all your powers. We are no longer just a tool for cutting souls."
Ichigo gave the sword a test swing.
As the blade cut through the air, a trail of white-hot fire followed it.
This wasn't normal fire. It didn't just burn the surface; it felt like it was burning the very space it touched.
"Careful with that, Kingy!"
Shiro shouted, stepping back with a rare look of caution.
"That heat... it's nastier than that old man Yamamoto's trick back in the day. That's cosmic fire. It doesn't just burn the body; it erases the existence of what it touches."
Ichigo looked at the glowing edge of the sword.
He could feel the temperature rising. In his old life, Captain Commander Yamamoto's Ryūjin Jakka was the ultimate fire-type sword, said to be as hot as the sun.
But the Phoenix fire within this new Zangetsu was tied to the life and death of the universe itself. It was a "True Fire" that could create or destroy entire worlds.
"I can't use this in public,"
Ichigo realized, sheathing the blade in a scabbard that appeared on his hip.
"Not yet. It's too much."
"Then you must learn to seal it,"
Zangetsu said.
"Just as you seal your magnetism and your sorcery. You are a container for forces that this world is not ready to see."
Ichigo nodded. He felt the power humming in his veins.
He was eighteen, a genius with a Ph.D., the heir to a billionaire empire, and the host of a cosmic fire-god.
He opened his eyes back in his bedroom.
The sun was beginning to rise over New York.
He stood up, feeling stronger than he ever had in his previous life.
He had protected Tony Stark yesterday because it was right, and because it was smart.
But soon, the "organization" Juha mentioned—the ones who killed the Starks—would realize that their little game had a new player.
"Let them come,"
Ichigo whispered, looking at his reflection in the glass. His eyes flickered with a faint, orange glow.
"I've got a lot more than just a sword waiting for them."