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The ruined city that stood before him was grand, especially in his eyes. The purity of the fields that stood silent and dead, the visions of the powerfully tall buildings, hollowed by the wars that ran over and over again throughout the world itself. His hands were in his pockets, and red eyes were studying the creations of man that had now fallen. It was these little things that this Shinigami appreciated, you know? These little things in the world made all the difference to him, as he had only ever chosen to focus on the large things that needed focusing on. Such as that island that he had heard of, the one that had supposedly fallen out of the sky. Although he had no desires to go for the power, he wished to stop others from gaining the power to destroy the world, for that was such as his mind told him. For he had nobody to protect, and because of that, he was only ever focused on protecting everyone. He chuckled softly, thinking himself both a fool and correct at the same time.

"Am I truly broken?" People had called him many things; a broken hero, one who was covered in the blood of innocents. This Pseudo-Ziamichi was strange by his own right. He had rejected the very sin that he had performed, and as such he had formed his own hell within him. That creature covered in blood, of the golden eyes. The FeralMind, the true embodiment of everything that Daigoro didn't want to be, but had to. Soft and slender fingers raised up to brush a piece of hair off of his face as his footsteps rung out within the empty streets, devoid of life. There was really no discernible life in this city, and he really enjoyed that feeling of being alone. Not alone without people, but just alone to think, at least for a little while. A kind smile crossed his face as he thought back to those he had saved before, however few and far between. That had struck him as rather... strange. Despite always wanting someone to protect, he had never truly found anything to protect for... himself?

But that was the wrong way to think. Because that was the will of the wall, right? The wall never got to choose who it got to protect, it was only protecting everyone from each other. That was it, to him. He protected those that were good from evil, and those that were evil from good. But was that the right thing to do? Was he really meant to protect those around him from each other? Was he really only there to take the full attacks, as opposed to the ones that he wanted to take? His blood-stained eyes closed slightly, and his gaze lowered. He was truly just a shield for everyone to hide behind, from each other. A small 'kuh' sound escaped his throat. Was that really all he could be? The man stepped forwards, that single step making a sound that reverberated in the back of his mind...oh. There was a leaf on the ground. Strange, why there was a leaf there. The man knelt down, to look at the leaf. It was bone-dry, dead, a skeleton of it's former self. Heh...

Slowly going to stand back up, Daigoro raised a hand to his head and moved some more hair, thinking more on life and it's strange qualms. It was rather wondrous, this world around him. This silent forest of buildings, this strange jungle of steel and concrete. It was a mystery, as to what lay in these bones of a city. And in a place like this, he didn't have to worry. He didn't have to think about anything of this war, and this hatred, no K-World, Gotei, nothing. He was free to be himself in this mysterious world, you know? He could just walk around and stare into the silent world of the city. It made him feel good, peaceful, calm, all of those words combined. The redheaded Ziamichi would have no qualms if he died peacefully in a place such as this, no regrets, nothing but pure and calm blue sky of the world. A small smile crossed his face as he looked into the air and asked that single, known question to the open abyss...

"So why... do I still feel empty?"