So what?
The presence of absolute power was on full display.
Aizen Sōsuke saw no need to explain himself to the weak, nor did he care to respect their perspectives.
If misunderstanding was inevitable, then so be it—he would accept it without hesitation. Aizen had never sought understanding from others, and that was precisely what made him so unshakably strong.
"So what…"
Repeating Aizen's words, Hirako Shinji's expression shifted from rage to something more complex, until he finally fell completely silent.
There was something indescribably sorrowful about his face.
"I… I don't actually hate you for what you did to me."
Shinji's voice was eerily calm, tinged with an unsettling detachment.
"After all, when it comes down to it, this was my own failure."
"Even though I noticed something was off about you, I thought I could keep you within my sight, keep you under control…"
"In the end, that was nothing more than my own arrogance."
His mistake.
The suffering he endured because of it, the bitter consequences he swallowed—he accepted them without complaint.
But this…
This was different.
"Why did you have to do this to Seiya?!"
His voice broke into a furious roar, completely losing all composure.
"He trusted you so much, and yet you used him like this… Just hollowfying him wasn't enough to satisfy your ambition?!"
What had Seiya become now?
He had lost his human form, his face, his identity.
All that remained of him was the faintest echo of his past self, lingering in the remnants of his soul.
What stood before them now was nothing more than the shattered remains of their memories.
A wailing spirit upon a broken corpse.
"Aizen Sōsuke!"
Shinji raised his right hand, pointing straight at the sky. His voice was filled with nothing but righteous fury.
"I will never forgive you for this! A man like you… I will never, ever forgive!!!"
The anger burning in his eyes—
Like wildfire, it spread to those around him, igniting their emotions as well.
Shihōin Yoruichi, standing beside Urahara, reached out slightly as if to console him, but the guilt in her eyes made her hesitate.
She hadn't foreseen this outcome, hadn't realized just how deep the wounds ran.
Now, could she really stand there like some wise elder and offer words of comfort?
No.
She couldn't.
"Liar…"
Hiyori buried her face in her arms, staring at the monstrous form before her, tears welling in her eyes.
"There's no way this thing is Seiya!"
She clenched her fists.
Then, without hesitation, she rushed forward to kick the creature.
But Lisa Yadōmaru caught her by the arm, stopping her in time.
Shaking her head, Lisa conveyed something unsaid—
An understanding that could not be put into words.
And in the end, Hiyori could do nothing but lower her head, sniffling as she whispered:
"So turning him into a monster like us wasn't enough…"
"Just how much do you need to toy with people before you're satisfied? Do you even care about anyone at all?"
A person like that—
A person like him—
"Will fall into hell someday, Aizen!"
A cruel curse.
If a child had heard such words, they might have been consumed by guilt.
But this meant nothing to Aizen.
Ignoring all their emotions and accusations, he simply turned his gaze elsewhere.
Tōsen Kaname had been shaken by Yoruichi's attack, but his injuries were negligible.
The real issue was with Seiya.
That last attack should have been something he could have avoided, and yet, in the end, he did nothing…
"Is it because of his injuries? Is it putting too much strain on his real body?"
A plausible possibility. Something worth considering.
Time could not be wasted. Everything needed to be wrapped up before the reinforcements arrived.
But before that—
"Return what belongs to Seiya."
"Like hell we will, you bastard!"
Shinji stepped forward, voice sharp, his intent to oppose Aizen utterly unmistakable.
"We're taking Seiya with us! Whatever you did to us back then, we found a way to survive… and we'll do the same for him!"
His words were a signal.
The moment they were spoken, the rest of the Visored stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Shinji.
Their presence alone was enough to declare their stance.
At the same time, Yoruichi turned toward Urahara.
After a brief pause, Urahara pulled the brim of his hat lower, his tone slightly uncertain.
"This level of hollowfication… Honestly, I've never seen anything quite like it before. If you're asking whether I have a solution…"
"I can't promise anything."
But—
"If it's Seiya, I will do everything I can."
It was rare for Kisuke Urahara to show such firm resolve.
But in this moment, there was no room for his usual lighthearted demeanor.
What happened to Seiya was something even Urahara found deeply tragic.
Just as he had saved Shinji and the others all those years ago, he would now give his all once again.
"Maybe I won't be able to restore him completely, but… bringing back his sanity shouldn't be impossible."
His confidence—
Came from the fact that he, too, possessed a fragment of the Hōgyoku, as well as extensive knowledge of hollowfication.
His prior research on the Visored had only deepened his expertise.
With such experience, his claim wasn't just empty words.
He had the skills to back it up.
With their resolve firm, their collective determination surged, forging a singular, undeniable purpose.
Hiyori, always the most hot-tempered among them, couldn't contain herself any longer.
She threw her head back and shouted.
"Did you hear that, you fake-ass, smug bastard?! Seiya is one of us now! You're not taking him anywhere—now get lost!!!"
"..."
Aizen didn't respond.
He simply narrowed his eyes.
Strange.
Under normal circumstances, he would never bother reacting to this kind of provocation.
The cries of ants were meaningless.
Such futile resistance should have had no effect on him.
And yet—
For the first time in a long while, Aizen felt something stir inside him.
Displeasure.
Irritation.
Annoyance.
Call it whatever you will—
The simple truth was that their words had gotten under his skin.
And in that moment, for the first time in years—
Aizen's expression twisted with disgust.
"How insufferable."
Even if ants gathered in numbers, they would always be insignificant.
He only needed to crush them.
"To think something as meaningless as this could stir my emotions… How unexpected."
So, by all means—
Take pride in this moment.
For you miserable failures have managed to make me react.
Aizen lifted a single finger.
Reiatsu erupted.
A deep, ominous hum reverberated through the air—
And then—
The world changed.
A black curtain descended.
Though it was already nighttime, this darkness was something else entirely.
It wasn't just the absence of light—
It was a void.
The sky itself seemed to be swallowed whole.
Like an abyss rising from below, an overwhelming force pressed against every single person present.
It crushed them from the inside, gripping their very souls.
"Ugh—!"
Hiyori dropped to her knees.
She clutched at her throat, mouth agape—
But she couldn't breathe.
"Hi…yo…ri…"
Shinji barely managed to stay standing, but his legs trembled as he braced himself against his knees.
For the first time, true fear took root in everyone's hearts.
The gap between them and Aizen—
Was an uncrossable abyss.
They were going to die.
That was the only thought left in their minds.
"Kisuke!"
Shihōin Yoruichi, drenched in sweat, shouted toward Urahara.
Nearby, Kisuke Urahara, though equally battered, said nothing.
But he was doing something.
A last resort?
How pointless…
Even now, he still believed he could bridge this gap?
Aizen Sōsuke sneered internally.
Long years of comfort and stagnation had made Kisuke soft.
The raging torrent of Kaidō at his fingertips could erase them all—a mere footnote in history.
Fitting.
It was time for these failed experiments to be erased.
The flood of Hadō surged, ready to swallow them whole.
And then—
BOOM!!!
A deafening explosion erupted in the distance.
At that exact moment, Aizen's gaze sharpened.
Because he felt it.
Not one—
Three spiritual pressures bursting into existence from the Dangai.
Soul Society's reinforcements had arrived—faster than expected.
The weight of the moment settled.
He hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
And that was enough.
The cost-benefit calculation in his mind was clear.
Risking exposure for the sake of eliminating these already doomed failures was—
—not worth it.
His right hand moved.
With a single graceful motion, the raging energy at his fingertips dissipated.
The crushing blackness vanished.
As the true night sky returned, the stars above shone with a brilliance no one had noticed before.
Aizen exhaled softly.
"You've been granted a reprieve, gentlemen."
No longer interested in speaking, he turned away, stepping into Shunpo.
His departure was immediate.
Tōsen Kaname, having already sensed the signal, did not hesitate either.
With one final glance toward the battlefield, he vanished.
And just like that—
They were gone.
The Visored and Urahara's group remained behind, gasping for breath, struggling to stand.
It was Shinji who broke the silence first.
"D-Don't just stand there! Soul Society's goons are coming… We need to get out of here!"
Everyone snapped back to reality.
Love Aikawa and the others rushed toward the Yaksha fragment, securing it.
They weren't leaving without it.
Because—
Seiya was still in there.
Urahara himself was preparing to leave—
Until his gaze fell on another figure.
Kneeling against the rubble, barely conscious—
Shiba Isshin.
Urahara hesitated.
By logic, there was no need to intervene.
Soul Society's reinforcements would save him.
His record was clean—he had no reason to flee.
Their eyes met.
Isshin's lips curled into a tired, bitter smile.
"…Thanks for the assist."
Though completely lost about what had just happened, he knew one thing—
He owed them his life.
Isshin took a slow, shuddering breath.
"I don't know what's going on, but I swear—"
"I won't say a damn thing."
A wise choice.
In moments like this, choosing survival over questions was the mark of a true Captain.
Urahara smirked slightly, nodding.
"Appreciate it."
That was all.
His gaze shifted again—this time to Ishida Ryūken.
The Quincy stood motionless, still processing the events that had unfolded.
For him and Masaki, this night had been a disaster.
They had tried to save someone.
And in return—
They had nearly lost their lives.
Ryūken's hands clenched into fists.
Silent.
Distant.
Watching him carefully, Urahara quickly realized—
This man had no interest in talking to them.
They were Shinigami.
That was enough reason to keep his distance.
No words were needed.
Ryūken simply took a step back.
A quiet withdrawal from a world he had no desire to understand.
Urahara sighed internally.
A clean break.
Probably for the best.
But just as everything seemed to be wrapping up—
Seiya moved.
No—
The Yaksha fragment moved.
"HRRAGHH!!!"
The air shook as its roar tore through the night.
The cloak covering its body ripped apart in an instant.
The Visored turned in alarm—
And what they saw froze them in place.
The wounds that had nearly destroyed it were healing.
Its body twisted, muscle and flesh reforming.
And—
Its hunger returned.
"Hold it down!"
Shinji's command rang out.
Even without orders, the Visored acted.
They weren't about to let Seiya fall further.
Each of them donned their masks—
Using their full strength to pin him down.
Hiyori was the first to reach him.
She jumped onto its head, stomping down with all her strength.
"Stay still, you bastard! Do you have any idea how hard we're trying to save you?!"
For a moment, it seemed to work.
Until—
Its jaw opened wide.
A brilliant glow ignited in its mouth.
Cero.
A full-powered Cero at point-blank range.
Even Urahara's expression darkened.
"Move!"
Hiyori jumped away just in time—
The Cero exploded forth—
And then, in a single, unnatural twist of its body—
It redirected.
The beam shot through the air—
Striking someone completely unexpected.
Masaki Kurosaki.
The moment of impact—
Her blood scattered through the night air.
Her entire right side was gone.
For a brief second—
A silence fell over the battlefield.
Then—
"MASAKI!!!"
The world collapsed into chaos.
Ryūken was the first to react, rushing forward.
Urahara's expression shifted as he made a split-second decision.
"Everyone, we're leaving!"
There was no time to argue.
"Quincy!" Urahara turned to Ryūken. "I can save her. Come with us!"
Ryūken's mind raced.
Masaki's body—**her very soul—**was falling apart.
He knew the truth.
There was no time to get her back to the Ishida family's medical facilities.
If they left her here—
She would die.
There was no choice.
Ryūken clenched his fists—then nodded.
"Fine."
At that moment—
A new voice interrupted.
"Wait!"
Isshin, struggling to stand, suddenly called out.
"I… I'm coming too!"
The words came out almost involuntarily.
But deep in his heart—
He knew.
This was the choice he had to make.
There was no hesitation.
There was no regret.
Even if he didn't understand why—
He felt something pulling him toward her.
And so—
They vanished into the night.
Two minutes later—
A figure finally arrived.
Kyōraku Shunsui stepped onto the ruined battlefield, looking around at the devastation.
A sigh escaped him.
"Man… this got real messy, huh?"
His sharp gaze drifted over the wreckage.
The sheer chaos made it impossible to track where everyone had gone.
Which meant—
"Well… Looks like we got here too late."
For better or worse—
The pieces of fate had already shifted.
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Powerstones?
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