"The Soul King…"
Those two words struck Kyoraku Shunsui's mind like a bolt of lightning.
He turned sharply, staring at his close friend in disbelief.
Ukitake Jushiro's already pale face drained of even more color. His lips were pressed tight, silent like a statue about to crumble into dust.
Seeing that expression, Kyoraku did not need verbal confirmation.
Kurosaki Masaki was telling the truth.
The power that had kept Ukitake's broken body alive all these years had come from the authority of the Soul King.
Shock surged through him like a tidal wave, only to be forced down by his powerful rationality.
Now was not the time to dig into secrets.
If anything, this truth made another terrifying fact even more solid.
The so-called omniscient and omnipotent being of the Hueco Mundo Royal Palace might truly exist.
"What exactly was the bait Urahara Kisuke left behind? And what was he trying to do?"
Almost instinctively, Kyoraku's thoughts jumped to that crucial point.
And at that very moment, on the false stage, Rosse asked nearly the exact same question.
His words were even half a beat faster than Kyoraku's own thoughts.
Kyoraku's lips twitched. His face stiffened completely.
A strong sense of absurdity and dread spread wildly in his chest.
He really was about to lose his mind.
'Is Rosse the mastermind or not?'
From Soul Society's perspective, he desperately hoped not.
But every clue pointed straight at Rosse.
He could not convince himself otherwise.
"Sensei, everyone! You haven't forgotten the Hollowfication incident that shook Soul Society a hundred years ago, have you?"
The fake Ukitake's voice remained calm and gentle, as if he were discussing the weather rather than a tragedy.
He did not avoid the topic at all. Instead, he openly turned his gaze toward the edge of the battlefield.
In that direction, a confused Rukia stood surrounded tightly by anxious vice-captains.
"The Hollowfication incident… that was your doing, wasn't it?"
Kuchiki Byakuya's brows furrowed sharply, his eyes cold and cutting.
Based on his and Aizen's earlier analysis, they had already pointed the blame at Kyoraku Shunsui.
"That's right. I orchestrated it myself."
The fake Ukitake nodded, even showing a faint smile like that of a research fanatic.
"It was all to carve out a path in despair. A path of evolution that could repair this broken body of mine."
The crowd erupted.
Inside the blazing circle of fire, Yamamoto's reaction was the fiercest.
BOOM!
The flames, already twisting the air, surged higher with his furious spiritual pressure, tongues of fire leaping meters high and nearly swallowing the captains outside the ring.
"Nonsense! That matter had nothing to do with me!"
In the real space, the true Ukitake trembled with rage.
He stared at the impostor wearing his face, spouting lies before all of Soul Society. Fury almost burst from his eyes.
This was beyond absurd.
To stand there himself and watch a fake version of him calmly pile up crimes that would stain history forever onto his own head.
"Alright, alright, calm down."
Kyoraku sighed and patted his friend's shaking shoulder, bitterness thick in his voice.
"I know it wasn't you. But right now, no one will listen to our explanation. Being misunderstood by the whole world… well, you get used to it. Look at me. I'm already numb."
He had experienced it the first time Kurosaki Masaki appeared.
By now, he had lost count of how many times he had been framed.
"So after all that effort, what exactly are you trying to obtain?", Byakuya pressed, holding back anger.
"I must admit, Urahara Kisuke is a true genius."
The fake Ukitake's eyes shone with feverish light.
"Although I initiated the Hollowfication experiment, I discovered that Urahara managed, with just a few failed test subjects, to reverse-engineer a path of ultimate evolution for Shinigami."
He raised his hand and pointed straight at Rukia.
"And the key that opens that gate of evolution, the core medium, was sealed by Urahara Kisuke within Rukia's body!"
"Evolution? Ridiculous!"
Yamamoto snorted heavily, killing intent burning hotter than his flames.
"This so-called evolution is nothing more than a step toward corruption!"
Shinigami advancing toward Hollows as evolution, he had heard such theories too many times.
Over the millennia, he had seen countless madmen choose that road, and he had personally cut down many nobles who tried to cross that forbidden line.
Shinigami represented order. Hollows represented chaos.
That was iron law, the foundation of the world.
Anyone who tried to blur that boundary was heresy.
"For strength, for health… no matter how noble the excuse, this is a line Shinigami must never cross!", Yamamoto's beard and hair flared with his fury, "Today you sacrifice comrades for your body. Tomorrow, for greater desire, what will you sacrifice? Soul Society itself?"
"Sensei, I admit that from this perspective, I have fallen."
The fake Ukitake did not argue. He sounded like a martyr walking toward death.
"But this is the only path I can see to reach that ultimate goal. Believe it or not, we never truly betrayed Soul Society. We have no ties with the Hueco Mundo Royal Palace."
"You are old. You cannot withstand their edge anymore. Only by evolving further do we have hope of resisting them."
"Hmph!"
Yamamoto's gaze swept toward his other rebellious disciple.
Though furious, he believed those words.
But so what? Regardless of motive, regardless of foreign collusion, what they had done was a capital crime.
Blades had been drawn.
Only endless hellfire could bring closure to this master-disciple bond.
"There is no need for further words."
Yamamoto slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they held only cold slaughter.
His right hand gripped the hilt and slowly drew the ancient blade.
"Come, rebellious disciples. Since you chose this path, let this old man see how much you've grown in these thousand years!"
"All Things in the Universe, Turn to Ashes! Ryujin Jakka!"
Buzz!
In an instant, terrifying spiritual pressure shot into the sky.
Crimson flames of destruction roared from the blade.
Sokyoku Hill seemed thrown into a furnace. Air twisted violently. Even distant stone began to melt.
"So Sensei truly intends to kill."
Facing the apocalyptic heat, the fake Ukitake only sighed.
"But forgive me, Sensei. This time I cannot indulge you in a proper battle. I have something more important to handle."
Before the words faded, he vanished.
Not a flash step afterimage.
He simply disappeared.
The next second, he crossed Yamamoto's fire barrier and appeared ghostlike at the battlefield's edge, directly before Kuchiki Rukia.
"So fast!"
Several captains, including Byakuya, shrank their pupils.
They had not even seen movement.
"That's not shunpo!"
Experienced captains reacted instantly.
No matter how fast, shunpo was physical movement. It could not pass through such dense spiritual flames without trace.
Only spatial movement could do that. Sonido.
A Shinigami captain using a Hollow's technique?
Before anyone recovered from shock, the fake Ukitake struck.
His pale hand shot forward like a hawk's talon toward Rukia's chest.
Too fast. Everything happened in an instant. The captains could not even complete the starting motion of shunpo.
Too far. Rescue was impossible.
"NOOO!"
Byakuya's heart went cold.
He had thought Rukia merely a chess piece.
He had not expected she was the true target.
Now she stood exposed beneath the executioner's blade.
But at that final moment—
Smack!
A crisp impact sounded.
The fake Ukitake's hand was knocked aside less than an inch from Rukia.
Not by his own will.
A stronger, faster hand struck it away.
A tall figure arrived after but overtook before, standing firmly in front of Rukia.
Rosse.
The other captains finally exhaled.
Without pause, several figures shot in from all directions, forming a killing net around the fake Ukitake.
Since he left Yamamoto's designated battlefield on his own, they would not hold back.
Hollow techniques or not.
Sonido or not.
Every captain here had fought countless battles.
Every one of them had slain Adjuchas.
Surrounded, the fake Ukitake's face showed no panic.
He lifted his right hand gracefully.
"Bakudo #8 Seki!"
A visible repulsive force burst outward.
What should have been a simple low-level binding spell became a tidal wave.
Many captains were blasted back.
"Hado #4 Byakurai!"
Aizen stood unmoved. Ignoring the repulsion, a sharp flash of lightning bloomed at his fingertip.
The bolt tore through the air toward Ukitake's forehead.
Though low-level, in his hands it surpassed most captains' high-level spells.
"All Waves Rise And Become My Shield, Lightning Strike And Become My Blade! Sogyo no Kotowari!
The fake Ukitake drew twin blades and completed his release chant instantly.
The white lightning struck the blade.
No explosion. No roar.
The lightning vanished into the jagged back of the sword.
Five talisman-like ornaments along the red cord lit up.
"Back to you."
The lightning erupted even more violently.
Not at Aizen.
But redirected toward Rosse.
"Heh! Interesting."
Rosse smiled lightly and drew his Zanpakuto.
His movement looked casual, yet none of the captains could follow it.
The blade met the lightning.
The blast shattered.
Using the scattering sparks as cover, Rosse closed in.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Steel clashed in rapid succession.
In two seconds, dozens of killing blows were exchanged.
While Rosse engaged, Aizen's calm chant echoed across the field.
Within two seconds, the full incantation of Hado #90 was complete.
At the final syllable, Rosse disengaged with a final strike.
"Hado #90 Black Coffin!"
A towering black barrier of spiritual particles rose like hell's jaws and swallowed the fake Ukitake whole.
The exchange had been lightning fast.
Only after the black coffin formed did the captains who had been blasted away regain footing.
"Damn it…"
Komamura's massive body trembled. Beneath his helmet, his wolf face was grim.
He clenched his Zanpakuto so tightly his knuckles whitened.
They were captains too.
Yet they had been brushed aside by the shockwave.
While those three completed an entire exchange in moments.
The gap was suffocating.
Byakuya said nothing.
But his cold eyes lowered slightly, unwilling frustration and helplessness in his gaze.
If even this fake Ukitake could not be suppressed, what could he accomplish?
With his current strength, how could he protect Soul Society, the Kuchiki clan, Rukia?
Without power, strategy meant nothing.
Without power, nothing could be protected.
Compared to them, Tosen Kaname and Hitsugaya Toshiro were calmer.
They had long recognized the gap.
Hitsugaya, once proud of his genius, had already shed that arrogance after years beside Rosse.
In one exchange, every participant held different thoughts.
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