And with the coming and going of the Great Usher, Sherman alone was left to wander the streets of Soul Society. The once great spirit city's caretaker and only friend. For the next one thousand centuries he would wander the streets with broom in hand, sweeping here and there. Combating the ever present and ever persistent dust that was the reluctant companion of empty places. Empty worlds.
But as time went on, it was all too much for one wandering spirit alone. The city soon came to crumble under its own weight that it alone had borne for countless millennia before. Small mountains of dust and debris ranging throughout Soul Society. And soon all was distinct in the rolling hills of the now powdered buildings of each district was the narrow paths that went through the city like a tangled spiderweb.
Every morning Sherman would walk along these paths, no longer sweeping. His broom having long since worn to its handle.