With Barragan's death, the Gates of Hell cracked open a little further. Two enormous skeletal hands reached through the half-open doors and shoved them wider still.
BOOM—!
From behind the doors, the black phosphor-gas billowed out thicker than ever, and within that churning miasma, silhouettes began to take shape.
Then — a roar. Primal, bestial, thunderous. It shattered the black hellish gas and smashed apart the massive hands that had been slowly forcing the Gates open.
Bleached skeletal bone-dust rained down from above. The enormous skeleton — a hulking, grunt-level creature — had blocked the path of something far more powerful lurking behind it, and now crumbled back into Hell's embrace.
Accompanying that deafening roar, a colossal, grotesque fist — its skin traced with dark-red lava-like veins — shoved the Gates of Hell wide open.
"That's…"
Soifon looked up at the massive monster now looming beyond the Gates. In an instant, she recognized it.
Resurrección released — Espada No. 0: Yammy Llargo.
Yammy's enormous body practically squeezed its way out through the Gates of Hell. His twelve legs thundered down onto the grasslands of Rukongai, punching deep hoofprints into the earth.
His furious eyes swept across the figures of the captains below — tiny as ants — then locked onto Soifon.
ROOOOAR——
The savage roar twisted the very air around him. A blood-reeking gale, thick with the stench of Hell, sent every captain's haori snapping and cracking like flags in a storm.
SOIFON!!
Enemies meeting face to face — hatred blazed to life. A crimson Cero condensed in Yammy's maw, and a thick pillar of scarlet light came screaming down toward Soifon below.
"Hmph. Wretched beast."
Ryūjin Jakka——
Soifon was just about to make her move when the Captain-Commander let out a cold snort. A blade of flame — far thinner than that scarlet Cero — struck first, arriving before Soifon could even react. Like a hot knife through butter, it cleaved the world-annihilating Cero clean in two.
The sword-light's momentum didn't falter. Space itself seemed to warp from the searing heat as the slash continued through, splitting Yammy's colossal body — along with a portion of the black gas roiling behind him — straight down the middle. One stroke. Two halves.
Such was the might of a single cut.
As Yammy's body dissolved into black vapor and returned to Hell, the frenzied, snarling silhouettes behind the Gates gradually quieted. The hellish black gas began to thin, and the assembled captains could finally make out those familiar — and not-so-familiar — faces.
Ancient Arrancars who had been consigned to Hell across the long ages. Powerful Hollows who had died on the blades of Shinigami throughout history. Shinigami whose Spiritual Pressure had been too immense to dissipate, and who had ultimately fallen into Hell.
They stood silently behind the Gates, gazing out at the world of the living with eyes full of malice, hunger, and wariness.
"The Gates of Hell stand wide open. Formidable enemies draw near…"
The Captain-Commander stared unblinking at the familiar and unfamiliar silhouettes beyond the Gates. Ryūjin Jakka in hand, he walked slowly to stand before Soifon.
"Soifon."
"I will go first and drive them back with my Shikai. You use your Shikai to bombard the interior of the Gates — ease the pressure on Hell's seal as much as you can."
The Captain-Commander's understanding of Soifon's abilities was somewhat out of date. He assumed her Shikai required a lengthy preparation time, and so planned to hold the front himself first.
Without giving Soifon a chance to correct him, he immediately raised his right hand — the one gripping his sword.
"Bankai — Zanka no Tachi!"
An invisible wave of heat erupted from the Captain-Commander at its center, spreading in moments to every corner of Soul Society. The space around his blade warped and shimmered under the extreme temperature.
The very air of Soul Society went dry in an instant.
The grass and trees of Rukongai yellowed and withered at visible speed. Simply by standing there with his Zanpakutō released, the Captain-Commander had turned every inch of ground within a hundred meters into an absolute dead zone — hostile to all life.
The soil beneath their feet baked dry of all moisture and began to sink perceptibly. The captains were forced to layer Spirit Particles underfoot just to keep from sinking with it.
"Hyōrinmaru… can't be released anymore."
Tōshirō Hitsugaya snapped his gaze down to Hyōrinmaru in his hand. The blade trembled faintly. There was no longer enough moisture in the air for Hyōrinmaru's abilities to function.
The Captain-Commander said in a low, commanding voice: "I will clear this first wave. Everything after — I leave entirely to you!"
The moment those words fell, the Captain-Commander stepped forward.
Zanka no Tachi swept toward the Gates of Hell with terrifying speed.
"Zanka no Tachi — North: Tenchi Kaijin."
A pale line of fire sliced through the air. Wherever the blade's edge passed, space itself buckled and warped.
The silhouettes beyond the Gates — the instant the blade's edge touched them — ceased to exist. Like pencil sketches erased from paper. Silent. Traceless. Gone as though they had never been.
Only the Gates of Hell themselves, bearing the brunt of the slash's shockwave, let out a low, mournful groan — and did not move a single inch.
"The rest — is yours."
He sheathed his blade. Bankai: released.
Zanka no Tachi could not be maintained for long. To do so would place a terrible burden on both Soul Society and himself.
The tangled phosphor-gas was scattered by the strike, and Hell's true face was finally laid bare before them all.
A crimson earth stretching on without end. Infinite chains. Wraith after wraith, bound in those chains, surging forward toward the open Gates in an endless tide.
Soifon stepped forward. As she passed the Captain-Commander in the same instant, Suzumebachi in her hand had already begun to transform.
Golden light erupted skyward.
Without chanting a single word of release, Soifon swept her right hand — and Suzumebachi instantly took the form of a gun-blade.
Bankai — Jakuhō Raikōben.
With Soifon at its center, the ground for hundreds of meters in every direction — the soil that Zanka no Tachi had baked dry — was crushed and driven several meters deeper under sheer pressure.
The Captain-Commander had needed his Bankai to produce the earth-shaking spectacle of moments ago. Soifon accomplished the same feat with nothing but her own Spiritual Pressure.
The Three Worlds trembled.
At the edge of the Royal Palace's front approach, Ichibē Hyōsube stood with his broad sleeves clasped together, gazing down at the distant Soul Society far below.
That golden radiance of Spiritual Pressure was still clearly visible, even through layer upon layer of barriers between them.
"Again," he sighed, his round head swaying slightly. "Every time she uses her Bankai — even the Three Worlds can't take it… I'll have to find time to talk to her about this."
Bankai complete, Soifon raised the gun-blade and leveled it at the interior of the Gates of Hell.
The rest of the captains finally caught their breath from that terrifying Spiritual Pressure and looked up, every gaze drawn to that slender figure.
A golden projectile fired from the barrel — like a miniature sun — and plunged straight through the Gates of Hell.
Then Soifon squeezed the trigger, again and again. Dozens of golden bolts of destruction poured through that gateway like a monsoon!
Each projectile detonated the instant it entered Hell, blasting the powerful beings within into nothing. The shockwaves from those explosions even penetrated the Gates themselves, shuddering clearly on Soul Society's side of the door. The earth shook. Even the Gates of Hell — which had stood for countless tens of thousands of years — began to sway and rattle unsteadily.
The Captain-Commander looked at the gun-blade in Soifon's hand and — in that brief moment — ran through a dozen different ways one might attempt to neutralize her Bankai, discarding every single one.
Thank goodness she was on their side.
Gradually, the dense mass of silhouettes within the Gates of Hell dwindled away. The heavy doors seemed to breathe a sigh of relief — the gap that had been forced open began to slowly close once more.
Soifon ceased firing. She waited until the Gates shut firmly and stood once more in silent stillness upon the earth.
"Why hasn't this gate disappeared yet?"
Staring up at the colossal Gates of Hell, Soifon turned to the Captain-Commander beside her and asked, genuinely puzzled.
The Captain-Commander frowned at them as well. He didn't know either.
In the next instant — without any warning — two chains condensed from hellish phosphor-gas shot from the very top of the massive Gates. Their target was unmistakable: the Seireitei.
The chains moved faster than the eye could track, leaving behind only two heart-stopping black afterimages in the air.
"What is that?!"
"Chains?! Heading for — the Seireitei?!"
"This is bad!"
Several captains reacted in an instant, faces draining of color, moving to intercept — but the chains were too fast.
Watching the trajectory of their flight, Soifon — who had been about to move to block them — felt something stir in her mind, and stopped.
The Captain-Commander glanced at her sidelong. "You've figured something out?"
"Saitō the Undying." Soifon raised her chin slightly. "The Gates of Hell's target should be that woman — the one who managed to slip out."
At that same moment, the two black chains had already pierced through the interrogation room walls and driven precisely through the Saketsu and the binding locks on Saitō the Undying's body, hooking fast onto her very existence.
Saitō the Undying's scream cut off abruptly.
CLANK——
The chains snapped taut!
The tremendous force tore Saitō the Undying from the restraints. The wall exploded in a shower of rubble and stone fragments, and that purple-haired figure was wrenched backward, dragged through the air by the chains.
A split second after Soifon spoke Saitō's name, everyone could see it clearly — a purple figure being hauled along by the chains.
"I am NOT going back! Yamamoto! Soifon, save me——!!!"
Saitō the Undying's agonized shrieks echoed over Rukongai as her body was dragged, slamming through the narrowing gap in the Gates of Hell. The instant she disappeared through the crack — the doors snapped shut.
Immediately after, the massive Gates of Hell began to rumble and shudder, then warped and faded in the air — as though they had never existed at all.
"Mm… this is a good sign."
"When Saitō first escaped from Hell, the chains didn't even have the strength to pursue her."
"Now, the Gates of Hell have actively moved to recapture an escaped sinner — which means Hell's seal has stabilized once more."
The Captain-Commander spoke with an air of quiet, unfathomable depth, his hands clasped behind his back.
A moment later, Soifon turned toward a figure crouched behind a cluster of instruments not far away.
"Captain Mayuri."
"Did you manage to observe any useful data just now?"
Mayuri Kurotsuchi generally couldn't be bothered to acknowledge other captains — but Soifon was different. She was the collaborative partner who supplied him with a steady stream of "materials."
"But of course!!"
He clutched the flat Spirit Particle display screen and trotted over to stand before the Captain-Commander and Soifon, turning the screen toward them and pointing with one finger at the dense tangle of data curves displayed there.
"This is a before-and-after comparison of the hellish phosphor-gas concentration!"
"After absorbing the Bankai bombardment from both of you, the phosphor-gas concentration inside Hell has dropped by approximately eighty percent!"
He swiped his finger across the screen, pulling up another curve.
"This is the analysis of the gas that leaked through that final crack. While the gas is recovering at a slow rate — for Hell's seal to become once again impossible to suppress…"
"It will take at minimum three years."
—
Inside Hell.
The crimson earth stretched on without limit. The sky was perpetually dark and sunken — no sun, no moon — only endless black vapor churning through the air.
Everything was scorched black. All the beings that had lurked in Hell for uncounted ages had been reduced to scattered Spirit Particle fragments, slowly recongealing.
On a patch of scorched earth somewhere, three figures were gradually stirring back to life — none other than Azashiro Sōya, Kaname Tōsen, and Gin Ichimaru, sent here by the Soul Burial Rite.
The three of them rose to their feet in silence, sensing the power within them — so different now from what they'd had in life. Their Spiritual Pressure had climbed unreasonably, as though the original limits of their souls had been shattered and exceeded.
Gin Ichimaru's eyes — always narrowed to slits — opened fully now, revealing the ice-blue pupils beneath.
He glanced at Kaname Tōsen, then looked toward a third direction — toward Azashiro Sōya.
Tōsen, with the wordless understanding of a veteran, placed his hand on his sword hilt as well.
No explanation needed. Azashiro Sōya said nothing and released his Bankai — silently beginning to attempt to fuse his soul with the boundless Hell around him.
A fight was about to ignite.
BOOM——
A violent thunderclap erupted from the depths of Hell. Three sets of eyes turned simultaneously toward the source.
A purple figure, dragged by black chains, came plummeting down from the sky.
The figure crashed hard into the ground, throwing up a cloud of scorched black dust. The chains dissolved the instant their task was complete, leaving behind only a disheveled girl with purple twin-tails — Saitō the Undying.
"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey…"
Saitō spat the dirt from her mouth, pushed herself upright — and before she could even get a complaint out, she found herself looking at three silhouettes standing before her.
She blinked, then broke into a bright, dazzling grin.
"Oh hey, isn't that the Kenpachi who offed himself?"
Azashiro Sōya hadn't even had a chance to reply before a flash of blade-light crossed the space between them.
Schick——
His body was sliced in two at the waist. The upper half slid to the ground; the lower half remained standing where it had been. Black Spirit Particle blood seeped slowly from the clean cut.
Azashiro Sōya's expression remained perfectly calm — as though it wasn't him who had just been bisected.
His upper half lay against the ground and looked up coldly at Gin Ichimaru.
"I got ambushed and killed by you of all people?" Gin Ichimaru's face wore a cold, thin smile. "What a blunder for the ages…"
In the next instant, Azashiro Sōya's form vanished and reappeared nearby.
His body had fused with the surrounding Hell across a radius of several meters — and coupled with the immortality inherent to Hell's inhabitants, he was effectively unkillable.
"Tōsen, stay out of this," Gin said, his expression flat and cold. "I'll handle him alone."
Kaname Tōsen said nothing, and slowly removed his hand from his sword hilt.
At that, Azashiro Sōya finally spoke: "My fusion with Hell has gone unexpectedly smoothly. You are not my match, Gin Ichimaru."
Saitō the Undying heard those words, then connected them to what she knew of Azashiro Sōya's Bankai ability — and her face contorted into an expression of disbelief.
Azashiro Sōya raised his hand. Countless black chains erupted from beneath the earth — writhing like living things — and surged toward Gin Ichimaru!
Gin's eyes narrowed. He retreated sharply, hand snapping to his sword hilt at the same time: "Kill him — Kamishini no Yari."
Silver sword-light slashed apart every incoming chain. The severed chain fragments fell to the ground and quickly sank back into the earth, gone without a trace.
Gin landed, glancing down at his blade. Faster than before. Hell had genuinely made him stronger.
— Then what was the price?
"Bankai — Kamishini no Yari: Mutō Renjin."
Price or no price — kill Azashiro Sōya first, figure it out later.
The instant Gin raised his sword, silver blade-light vast enough to blanket the entire battlefield rained down like a storm of petals, punching countless transparent holes through Azashiro Sōya's body.
Azashiro Sōya's eyes went wide — then went dark. Even his eyeballs were shredded by Kamishini no Yari's blade edge.
Finding this kind of mindless slaughter pointless, Gin decided his next move would use Kamishini no Yari's poison — to execute Azashiro Sōya properly.
"Kill him — Kamishini no Yari."
Even if Hell's inhabitants couldn't truly die, the poison would make him suffer for quite some time.
Just as the blade tip was about to fire — a white spherical creature with fangs came rocketing in from the side, clamping its jaws around the very tip of Kamishini no Yari's blade.
That split-second buffer was enough. Azashiro Sōya barely evaded the strike, his form dissolving back into the air and reappearing on another open patch of ground.
Another expert — here?!
All four figures present turned to trace the direction the creature had come from. Saitō the Undying immediately dropped her head, trying to reduce her presence to zero.
It was a tall man wearing a captain's haori — its cuffs and hem already eaten away and tattered by the hellish phosphor-gas.
"Stop fighting. As a favor to me."
The man walked unhurriedly toward the group, casting a glance down at Saitō, who was sprawled on the ground doing her best impression of a carpet.
The white creature released its grip and dissolved into a stream of white light, vanishing into the Zanpakutō at his hip.
Gin did not sheathe his blade. He fixed his gaze on this unfamiliar man who had appeared out of nowhere. "Who are you?"
Azashiro Sōya, appearing a short distance away, raised an eyebrow — he had recognized the familiar figure.
The man seemed to have anticipated the question.
He raised one finger, pointing at himself — then pointed at Azashiro Sōya. "I am the man who was defeated by that fellow — Kuruyashiki Kenpachi."
[Character Details: Kuruyashiki Kenpachi — The Seventh Generation Kenpachi. A man of great standing both within and outside the division — trusted absolutely and possessing overwhelming strength. Simply being in his presence was enough to lift the spirits of those around him. He bore the title of the mightiest Shinigami, 'Kenpachi,' for several hundred years without interruption.]
Gin looked over at Azashiro Sōya with an expression of pure disbelief. He simply could not fathom how a man radiating this kind of powerful presence — Kuruyashiki Kenpachi — could have been defeated by Azashiro Sōya.
Sure enough, Azashiro Sōya frowned and opened his mouth to deny it: "If you had used your Bankai at the time, I would have been the one to die — Kuruyashiki Kenpachi."
"That couldn't be helped. I didn't want to destroy Soul Society back then either…" Kuruyashiki Kenpachi gave a helpless, wry laugh. A flash of ferocity crossed his eyes — a glimpse of what Hell had already done to his temperament.
"Back then"… was it?
The three who had just fallen into Hell latched onto that qualifier with precision.
Kuruyashiki Kenpachi smiled, the corner of his mouth pulling wide:
"So you've noticed, have you?"
"Down here in Hell, we are gradually eroded by Hell's own breath. Hell's will corrodes our minds, little by little…"
"I'm still clear-headed — but all I can think about right now is breaking out of Hell and swallowing the Three Worlds whole with my Bankai…"
"Give it a bit more time, and you'll understand exactly what I mean."
____
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