Soul Eater: Resonance Regression — Heir to the Reaper
Soul Eater Evans died shielding Maka from a fatal blow—and then he woke up.
Thirteen years old. The morning of the entrance ceremony at Death Weapon Meister Academy. Three years before the battle that killed him. Three years before the kishin Asura, before the madness that swallowed his friends, before Maka screamed his name with tears streaming down her face.
He remembers everything. Every battle. Every loss. Every face of everyone he failed to save.
But this second chance comes with a warni
Soul Eater: Resonance Regression — Heir to the Reaper - Whispers of Black Blood — A Trap for the One Who Knows the Future
The air in the hallway felt strangely heavy.
Morning light poured through the windows, yet somehow the corridor seemed dim. Soul Eater walked on, chewing his usual toothpick-like stick. His silver hair swayed in the faintly damp breeze.
One month since enrollment.
He'd gotten used to the Death Weapon Meister Academy building by now. Where the classrooms were. How to use the training grounds. The dorm rules. He knew it all already, thanks to his memories of the future. But pretending not to know was more exhausting than he'd expected.
(One month, huh.)
Still just one month. Nearly three years until that final battle. The sheer length of it made him dizzy.
But he couldn't let his guard down.
That whisper he'd felt at the abandoned church. The black shadow that had stared down at him from the dorm roof. The existence of the Anamnesis cult. Things that hadn't existed in the future were definitely starting to move.
"Soul."
A familiar voice from behind.
He turned. Maka Albarn was jogging toward him, her dark beige twin-tails bouncing. Her green eyes sparkled in the morning light.
"Lord Death wants to see us."
"A summons?"
"Yeah. Both of us."
A hint of tension crossed Maka's face.
A summons from Lord Death. Students who'd been enrolled barely a month didn't get called in directly. Not normally.
(Here it comes.)
Soul muttered inwardly.
His memories of the future stirred restlessly.
He knew exactly what this summons meant.
"Let's go."
"Yeah."
The two headed for Lord Death's office.
They walked the corridor. Students they passed kept glancing their way. The pair summoned by Lord Death. Curious stares pricked at their backs.
Maka straightened her posture slightly.
"Kinda nervous, huh."
"...Yeah."
Soul answered shortly.
Truth was, he wasn't nervous at all.
He knew exactly what was waiting.
That was precisely why his feet felt so heavy.
(Don't wanna go.)
A weak voice leaked from the depths of his heart.
But he had no choice.
This was the fork in the road of fate.
They reached the office.
A massive door. Black wood, carved with Lord Death's crest.
Maka took a small breath.
Soul glanced at her profile.
(She doesn't know anything.)
(Not what's about to begin.)
(Not what choice I'm being forced to make.)
"I'm opening it."
Maka knocked.
"Come in."
A gentle voice came from inside.
The door opened.
The office was dim.
There were windows, yet somehow the light was weak. Bookshelves lined the entire wall, packed with thick volumes. A mountain of documents sat on the desk.
And beyond it.
Lord Death was seated.
That white mask-like face. The black robe. His appearance hadn't changed one bit from Soul's memories of the future.
"Good of you to come."
Lord Death's voice was as calm as ever.
But Soul knew.
How much power slept beneath that calm.
"I have something to discuss with you two."
Lord Death tapped his documents into a neat stack.
"I want to assign you a field mission."
Maka's shoulders twitched.
"A field mission... sir?"
"Yes. The subjugation of the witch Arachne."
—There it is.
Soul murmured silently in his heart.
He knew. Of course he knew.
This mission would change his fate drastically.
Black Blood.
The black blood Arachne would pour into his body.
The curse that opens the door to madness.
"Arachne is among the most dangerous of witches."
Lord Death's voice continued.
"Her castle, Baba Yaga's Castle, is filled with traps and kin. Let your guard down, and you'll lose your lives."
"...Yes."
Maka's voice trembled slightly.
No wonder. A witch subjugation one month after enrollment. And the target was Arachne.
But Maka raised her head.
"I'll do my best."
Strong resolve burned in her eyes.
Soul looked at her profile, and his chest ached.
(Sorry, Maka.)
(I'm about to put you through so much worse.)
"Soul Eater."
Lord Death's gaze turned to Soul.
"Do you have any questions?"
"...No, not really."
Soul answered briefly.
As if he could have questions.
He knew everything.
Everything that was about to happen.
"I see. I'll contact you with the details later. You're dismissed."
"Yes. Excuse us."
Maka bowed deeply.
Soul gave a slight nod.
The two left the office.
The door closed.
The instant it did, Soul braced a hand against the wall.
"...Soul?"
Maka peered at his face, worried.
"Are you okay? You look pale."
"...It's nothing."
Soul forced his usual tone.
"Just a little short on sleep."
"...Really? If you say so."
Maka still looked concerned.
But she didn't press further.
"Arachne subjugation... that's a huge mission. I'm nervous, but let's do our best, Soul."
Maka said it with a smile.
That smile hurt.
(Do our best, huh.)
(And I'm about to drag you down to hell.)
"...Yeah."
Soul looked away.
—That night.
The dorm rooftop.
The night wind was cold.
Soul leaned against the fence alone.
Stars dotted the sky.
(What do I do.)
The same question spun around and around in his head.
If he didn't make contact with Arachne, he could avoid the Black Blood.
But without the Black Blood, he couldn't protect Maka in the battles to come.
(The Black Blood is a curse.)
(But at the same time, it's power.)
The future him had been tormented by the Black Blood's madness countless times.
That black room. That black flame. That whisper.
Just remembering made him nauseous.
But that power was what let him fight.
What let him protect Maka.
(The price of changing history.)
(A necessary evil to protect Maka.)
Which to choose?
The answer was already decided.
"...It's obvious."
Soul muttered to no one.
"I'm protecting Maka."
Even if he fell to hell himself.
Even if this body was eaten away by madness.
If he could protect Maka's smile.
That was enough.
"Soul?"
A voice came suddenly from behind.
He turned. Maka stood at the rooftop entrance.
"What are you doing out here?"
"...Nothing. Just looking at the stars."
"Stars?"
Maka looked up at the sky.
"They're beautiful."
"...Yeah."
Maka came to stand beside Soul.
Together, side by side, they looked up at the sky.
Silence flowed between them.
But it wasn't an unpleasant silence.
"Let's do our best tomorrow."
Maka said quietly.
"I still can't fight well. But with you, Soul, I feel like it'll be okay."
Her voice was direct.
"So tomorrow, we absolutely have to come back alive."
"...Yeah."
Soul answered briefly.
(Sorry, Maka.)
(This is to protect you.)
(I'm about to make you suffer.)
(But even so, I—)
Soul clenched his fist tight.
—The next day.
Baba Yaga's Castle.
Its appearance was eerie.
Twisted towers jutted from the rocky mountain. The sky, only around the castle, hung heavy with clouds.
"This is Baba Yaga's Castle..."
Maka's voice trembled.
"Stay sharp. The inside is full of traps."
"Yeah."
The two stood at the castle entrance.
A giant gate. Black iron, cold to the touch.
"Let's go."
Soul pushed the gate.
Creak...
With an earsplitting sound, the gate opened.
Inside was pitch black.
"...It's dark."
"Yeah. Be careful."
The two stepped inside.
The instant they did, the ground beneath them glowed.
A magic circle.
"What—"
"Kyaa!"
Light engulfed them both.
Their vision went white.
And when they came to, they were standing somewhere else.
"Where is this...?"
"A teleport trap. We got sent somewhere inside the castle."
He looked around.
A stone hall. Eerie paintings lined the walls. Black stains dotted the floor.
"Stay sharp. There are kin here."
Before the words finished leaving his mouth, something moved in the shadows along the wall.
Shuffling.
Black shadows in human form.
Their eyes glowed red.
"Madness-corrupted dead...!"
Maka braced herself.
"Soul, please!"
"Yeah."
Soul took Maka's hand.
—Transform.
His body was wrapped in light. Bones reshaped. Skin turned to hard metal. A moment of weightlessness. And then Soul's body became a single great scythe.
The handle rested firmly in Maka's grip.
"Here I go!"
Maka broke into a run.
She swung the scythe.
—Kiiing.
An earsplitting sound.
The resonance grated.
(Not yet, huh.)
Soul felt frustration in his heart.
Maka's wavelength was still thin. It didn't mesh well with his.
The scythe's blade cut through the dead.
But shallow.
He couldn't draw out his true power.
"Kh..."
Maka bit her lip in frustration.
"Calm down. Feel my wavelength more."
"...Yeah!"
Maka took a deep breath.
—Grating.
Still grating.
But a little better than before.
"Haaaa!"
Maka swept the scythe sideways.
Shhk.
One of the dead dissolved into black mist.
"Got it!"
"Not yet. More incoming!"
The dead poured out, one after another.
Maka kept swinging desperately.
But with the resonance incomplete, her attacks wouldn't land cleanly.
(The future Maka could've.)
(Done this so much better.)
Soul was frustrated.
But he couldn't say it out loud.
"Maka, right!"
"Huh!?"
Maka looked right in a panic.
A dead one was almost on top of her.
"Kyaa!"
Maka thrust the scythe out on instinct.
But her aim was off.
"Damn."
Soul moved the scythe's blade slightly by his own will.
Barely deflected the dead one's attack.
"S-Sorry, Soul!"
"Don't apologize. Eyes forward!"
"R-Right!"
The battle continued.
They somehow broke through the horde of the dead.
Maka was breathing hard.
"Hah... hah... Sorry, I'm totally..."
"Don't sweat it. As long as we're alive."
Soul said it to reassure her.
But inside, he was anxious.
(At this rate, we might not make it to Arachne.)
(No, we will.)
(In the future, we made it.)
(So it'll be fine.)
Soul told himself.
The two pressed deeper into the castle.
Dodging traps, cutting down kin, climbing stairs.
And at last, they reached the fourth layer.
"Is this... the top floor...?"
"Yeah. Arachne's chamber."
The two stood before a large door.
"I'm opening it."
"Yeah."
Maka pushed the door.
Creeeak...
The door opened slowly.
Inside was a vast room.
The ceiling was high, and countless books lined the walls.
And at the far end.
A woman stood.
Long black hair. Pale skin. A purple dress.
Her face was beautiful, yet somehow eerie.
"Oh my, welcome."
Arachne smiled.
"Lord Death's little pets, coming just the two of you. How thoroughly underestimated I am."
Arachne's voice was sweet, and cold.
"Arachne...!"
Maka raised the scythe.
"We're going to defeat you!"
"My, how scary. But it's impossible. I heard your resonance. I can't imagine you defeating me."
Arachne giggled.
"You won't know until we try!"
Maka broke into a run.
"Witch Hunter!"
The scythe became a giant blade of light, lunging at Arachne.
But Arachne merely raised one hand.
"Too naive."
—Snap.
A magic barrier repelled the blade of light.
"Kyaa!"
Maka was blown back.
"Maka!"
"I'm fine... I can still fight..."
Maka stood up.
"Futile. Your resonance is incomplete. It won't reach me."
Arachne slowly approached them.
Her eyes fixed on Soul.
"...Oh?"
Arachne's eyes narrowed.
"You have an interesting soul."
Soul's heart leaped.
"There's an abnormal interference in your wavelength. Almost like... a distortion in time."
(Bad.)
Soul's instincts screamed.
This woman had noticed his secret.
"Hey, you."
Arachne brought her face close to Soul's.
"You know the future, don't you?"
—.
Soul's body froze.
Words that hadn't existed in the future.
Arachne would never say such a thing.
(Why...)
(Why does she...)
"I thought so."
Arachne smiled eerily.
"That distortion in your soul belongs to one who has leapt through time. No doubt about it."
Arachne's hand touched Soul's chest.
"W-What are you—"
"I'll take it. Your memories of the future. And I'll pour Black Blood into your soul."
"Stop!"
Maka screamed.
But her body wouldn't move.
She was bound by Arachne's magic.
"Get away from Soul!"
"What a noisy child. Be quiet for a moment."
Arachne snapped her fingers.
Maka's mouth was sealed by an unseen force.
"Mmph!"
"Now, let's begin
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