"That's impossible!!"
Hirako Shinji let out a cold laugh, "Who do you think you are? The world that countless of us have lived in and experienced for hundreds of years, whether it's real or fake, you think we can't tell the difference?"
However, before his words even finished—
Buzz!
The world around them changed drastically without any warning.
The change was so fast there wasn't even time to blink.
One second, it was the devastated ruins of the Soul King Palace. The next, it had returned to the familiar barracks of the Fifth Division.
But immediately after, in the very next instant, the world completely flipped upside down.
Kyoraku Shunsui felt a sudden lightness beneath his feet. When he landed again, he was horrified to find that everything around him had changed.
It was still the Fifth Division barracks. The buildings hadn't changed. The layout hadn't changed.
But he knew, everything was different.
The sky was no longer the perpetually dim or monotonous sky of Soul Society. Instead, it held a sun and moon he had never seen before.
A dazzling sun hung in the west.
A glowing crescent moon hung in the east.
The warmth of the sunlight, the humidity of the air, even the taste of each breath entering his lungs, all of it had become completely different.
It was a kind of vivid realism full of life, yet extremely out of place.
He could even feel that his body, long accustomed to being composed of reishi, now had the sensation of real flesh and blood.
It was as if they were now bound within gigai.
Or rather, as if they were humans with physical bodies, instead of souls made purely of spiritual particles.
From somewhere came the crisp chirping of unknown birds. Looking into the distance, they saw creatures that had never existed in Soul Society.
And when they lifted their heads and looked farther, it was like being struck by lightning.
On the eastern horizon, the Royal Palace of Hollows, which should have been at the center of Hueco Mundo, towered into the clouds, yet it was clearly visible, as if it were right next door.
On the western horizon, countless skyscrapers rose from the ground. The crowded, bustling streets, the flashing neon lights, it was unmistakably the human world, Karakura Town.
Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, the human world.
These three worlds, which should have been separated by the Dangai and divided by rules, were now seamlessly fused together. As if, there had never been three worlds.
As if they had always been one, and Aizen had simply been using Kyoka Suigetsu to deceive everyone's five senses, making the entire world believe it was split apart.
"Aizen.. all of this... is fake... Isn't... it?"
Kyoraku Shunsui's hand trembled. His voice was filled with uncontrollable fear.
He was a smart man.
And precisely because he was smart, he was more afraid.
If Aizen could do this, perfectly deceive their five senses, even reconstruct their entire worldview, then what about the Soul King? Or something even stronger than the Soul King?
If… everything they had lived through over the past thousand years, their lives, emotions, bonds, battles… every single piece of reality were all just a script written by beings above them? Just like what Rosse had been doing all along.
Again and again, they thought they were in control of themselves, only to realize they were puppets on strings.
When that sense of helplessness, of being controlled, sank into the bones like a parasite, it became almost impossible to trust one's own eyes, one's own understanding.
Now, staring at this half-real, half-illusory new world, Kyoraku Shunsui was truly lost.
He couldn't tell.
He really couldn't tell at all.
"These are indeed fake."
Aizen smiled meaningfully and lightly waved his sleeve.
Crash!
The half-real, half-illusory world shattered instantly. In its place appeared once more the live broadcast of the Soul King Palace, like a holographic projection.
In the image, Oetsu Nimaiya had also fallen into a pool of blood.
Yhwach stepped over his corpse, those crimson eyes burning with ambition, continuing toward the highest point of the Soul King Palace.
There, he would face the final gatekeeper, the monk said to be the begining of everything.
"But, Captain Kyoraku, how can you be certain that everything you experienced over the past thousand years is real?"
Aizen's voice was like a devil's whisper, echoing beside Kyoraku's ear, sending a chill through his entire body.
"Aizen!"
Ukitake Jushiro struggled to prop himself up, his gaze grave, "What exactly are you trying to say? With your personality, you wouldn't waste this much effort just to blur our perception. What is your real goal?"
"Sigh, still don't understand?"
Aizen let out a soft sigh and shook his head. There was a loneliness in his tone, as if standing too high.
"If Lord Rosse were here, he would have already seen through my thoughts. A conversation without resonance is truly regrettable."
He turned his head to look at Ishida Ryuken, who had been watching coldly from the side.
"Mr. Ishida, as a rational observer, could you tell these three stubborn old men the answer for me?"
"The answer is simple."
Ishida Ryuken pushed his glasses up. A cold glint flashed across the lenses, hiding his eyes in shadow. His voice was completely flat.
"From the very beginning, the anchor points you two sides focus on are different."
He looked at Kyoraku Shunsui and the other two.
"For you, what you call your homeland is this physical world itself, this land, the people living here, the trivial details of life, and the emotions you formed here, the things that you call bonds."
"But for Sosuke Aizen…"
Ishida Ryuken's gaze sharpened.
"What he cares about is the essence that extends from this world. The system of power and rules represented by Shinigami, Hollows, Quincies, Fullbringers, and even the Soul King itself."
"These are what he believes define the unique nature of our world, its 'genes.'"
"In his eyes, land can change, people can die, even the form of the world can be reshaped. But as long as a new world still retains the inheritance of these rules and powers, then it is still his homeland."
"And the reverse is also true."
Ishida Ryuken let out a cold laugh, mocking this kind of pointless obsession.
"As time passes, seas turn into mulberry fields. The world changes, people die. Only what is passed on proves that something once existed."
"Think about it. Even if this land remains the same, but all Shinigami, Hollows, and Quincies on it are wiped out, turning it into an ordinary human world—"
"When that time comes, whether it's you, Kyoraku Shunsui, or you, Sosuke Aizen, if you step onto this land again, would you still feel any sense of belonging? Would you still think this is the homeland you fought to protect?"
Those words were like a sharp scalpel, precisely cutting open the deepest confusion in Kyoraku and Ukitake's hearts.
"Admit it."
Ishida Ryuken withdrew his gaze, his tone carrying a near-cruel honesty.
"No matter who wins in the end, Aizen, Yhwach, or His Majesty Rosse, this world can't go back."
"Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, the human world, the fragile balance among them has already been broken. That false peace has already been torn apart. The way things were only exists in your memories now."
What followed the facts was... silence. A long, suffocating silence.
Kyoraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jushiro exchanged a glance, each seeing the deep despair in the other's eyes.
They finally understood why Aizen chose to cooperate with Rosse, and why he said they were narrow-minded.
At its core, what Aizen wanted to reshape was a new world that preserved the essence of power, after he himself stood at the top.
And what they wanted to protect was merely an empty shell called the present.
And just as Ishida Ryuken said, there was no going back.
No matter who won, the old world was already dead. Unless the monk in the Soul King Palace won, or they created a miracle and defeated everyone. And even then, that wouldn't be enough.
They would need to rebuild a new order on the ruins of this completely broken, shattered world.
But, even if they did that, would the new order truly be the same as before?
Perhaps for the ordinary souls living in Rukongai, who knew nothing of the world, it wouldn't make much difference.
But for people like them, who couldn't even accept cooperating with Hollows, who stubbornly clung to the honor and rules of the old era, in that new world, full of change and compromise, would there still be a place for them?
In that instant, a bone-deep exhaustion surged into Kyoraku Shunsui's heart like a tide.
It wasn't just physical depletion, but a heaviness far greater than being toyed with by Rosse.
Because he suddenly realized, with a trace of sorrow, that what he had been risking his life to protect... might have already become a slowly fading illusion the moment Rosse stepped into Seireitei.
The Seireitei now, though the scenery looked the same, felt more unfamiliar than ever. So unfamiliar that even breathing felt stiff and uncomfortable.
In his faint memories, ever since the founding of the Gotei 13, the total number of members had never exceeded ten thousand.
But ever since Rosse took control, in order to expand military strength, the gates of Rukongai had been thrown wide open.
Now, every division barracks was packed with crowds, far exceeding the old organized scale.
Every division had surpassed ten thousand members. The Eleventh Division alone had already exceeded fifty thousand.
Any soul with spiritual power was considered a reserve member of the Gotei 13.
Fragments of memory surfaced at the wrong time. Back when little Nanao was still alive, she had more than once held stacks of documents taller than her head, complaining to him through the glare of her glasses that there were too many new recruits to manage, that even the corridors of the barracks had become unbearably crowded.
And what had he been doing back then?
His mind had been filled with how to root out traitors, how to stand guard beside the unconscious old man. He had ignored Nanao's complaints entirely, treating them as nothing more than background noise.
Now that he thought about it, perhaps from that moment on, the world they were familiar with had already begun collapsing quietly, heading in a completely unfamiliar direction.
They really couldn't go back.
Kyoraku Shunsui let out a long sigh in his heart.
But deep down, he was also a stubborn man beyond saving.
If they couldn't go back, then there was no need to.
He was born in the era when the old man established order with Ryujin Jakka, and grew up under the protection of that old system.
Before that, Soul Society had once been even more ancient and chaotic, but it had all been swept into the trash heap of history by the old man.
If that was the case, then if this old order was destined to be swept away, someone would eventually build a new one.
But he, Kyoraku Shunsui, was a man of the old ways.
He couldn't accept from the bottom of his heart a new world rewritten by new rules, nor could he accept a world ravaged by people like Rosse and Aizen. He had no interest in forcing himself to adapt.
But who ever said that remnants of the old era had to cling to life into the new one?
He had long since lost any reason to keep living in this unrecognizable world.
What kept him standing here now was simply the desire to witness the ending of this world with his own eyes.
If the monk, or anyone else who still held hope for the old world, won, then he could face death with a smile, go to hell, raise a cup to the old man, and say calmly: Old man, I didn't betray you.
If Yhwach, Aizen, or Rosse won, then he would have witnessed the end. Perhaps there would be regret, but that was the limit of mortals. There would be no real regret left.
They were only mortals. They were not a demi-god like Yhwach who carried the blood of the Soul King, or a god from another world like Rosse who appeared out of nowhere, and certainly not an ambitious man like Aizen who sought to seize godhood with a mortal body.
When mortals oppose gods, losing is normal.
Fighting to the death is the only dignity they can uphold.
In this world, there were still stubborn fools like him, using their insignificant strength to cling desperately to the last bit of warmth from the old era.
"Aizen, I don't understand those grand principles you're talking about, and I don't have the eloquence to persuade you."
Kyoraku Shunsui spoke slowly. His tone was light, but carried the firmness of metal striking stone.
"But I have my own principles too. You might win, but that doesn't mean we'll admit defeat. Just like Senior Ichibe, at this very moment, he's still using his own way to protect our world, to protect that old order."
After speaking, Kyoraku Shunsui didn't look at the powerful enemy in front of him again. Instead, he raised his head and gazed past the smoke of the ruined battlefield toward the distant sky.
There, a tiny figure was falling from the Soul King Palace in the clouds, cutting through the sky like a falling star.
That was what was truly happening in the real world at this moment.
It was a being whose name had been erased.
Though he could no longer remember that person's name, Kyoraku Shunsui knew, of the trio trying to erase everything of the old world, one had already fallen.
"Heh! I think I can somewhat understand Lord Rosse."
Aizen watched this scene, the corners of his mouth lifting into an elegant curve.
He felt no anger at Kyoraku Shunsui's refusal to yield. On the contrary, there was genuine pleasure and appreciation in those brown eyes.
"It's precisely because people like you exist, those who, even with death right before them, beings as insignificant as ants, still cling to their principles and try to shine one last time—"
Aizen's voice was rich and resonant, echoing across the empty battlefield.
"—that this path to godhood becomes so brilliantly vivid."
"Only by stepping over the noble corpses of people like you does that supreme throne seems worth having."
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