"You may go, Aiyan—don't worry."
"When you return, I will ensure Aizen Sōsuke is healthy again."
"I swear this upon the name of the Fourth Division Captain."
Unohana Retsu stepped beside Aiyan, her calm voice firm. Then she turned, silently instructing Kanzaki Sayuri to take her place treating the gravely wounded and unconscious Aizen.
Aiyan nodded slightly in gratitude, and the moment he did, he vanished.
There was no movement, no sound—just disappearance. His voice, however, lingered like a whisper in the hall:
"Was that even Shunpo?"
"That felt more like a Kidō-level forbidden technique… Space Displacement!"
"I heard he mastered this kind of Shunpo after taking just one class at the Shinō Academy!"
If his earlier suppression of the Zanpakutō rebellion showed the captains what absolute power looked like, then this display of movement revealed to them what absolute speed meant.
Except for a select few—like Yamamoto Genryūsai—even captains couldn't react. Their eyes failed to track him.
The air trembled, and for a moment, space distorted like a ripple on a pond. Two figures emerged like phantoms—Kuchiki Kōga and Muramasa, fresh from their rebellion at the First Division.
"Killed his little brother… I went too easy on him!"
"If Yamamoto Genryūsai hadn't been watching—and if there weren't so many captains—I'd have made sure they both died under my Bankai."
Even after leaving the Gotei, Kōga's resentment hadn't faded.
"There'll be more chances."
"With me around, there is no Shinigami in Soul Society who can stop you."
"Whatever you wish, I will see it done."
Muramasa's voice practically dripped with servitude.
Satisfied, Kōga smirked.
Now that he had defected, it felt like he'd broken free from a cage—no more orders, no more humiliation. Just power. Revenge.
"Why wait—why not now?"
As the two stood atop the Sōkyoku platform, planning their next move, a voice echoed behind them.
The moment he heard it, Kōga froze.
He turned sharply—there stood Aiyan, on the hillside next to the execution platform, eyes cold, posture proud.
"You left the First Division… and came here to die?"
Kōga's voice turned sharp, cold like steel.
"No," Aiyan shook his head slowly. "You've got it wrong. I've been here waiting."
"Waiting?" Kōga narrowed his eyes.
"Correct. I arrived before you."
"I've been standing here for over a minute."
Aiyan's words were calm, but carried a weight that crushed the air around them.
"Hmph, forget it. Since your brother's dead, I'll give you a pass."
"What's wrong? Watching Aizen die before your eyes and being unable to save him—is that why you're here?"
"If so, I can help. I'll send you to meet him."
Kōga sneered, taunting.
"You keep bringing up Aizen," Aiyan's voice suddenly lightened. "You must miss him."
"Yes, I miss Aizen too."
"I regret not killing him myself… I should've twisted his head off with my own hands."
"Such a pity," Kōga clicked his tongue. "You're so emotional."
Aiyan pointed behind Kōga with a faint smile.
"What is this—some ghost story? There's no spiritual pressure back there."
"You think I'm going to fall for that cheap trick?"
"Do I look three years old to you?"
Kōga snorted, spreading out his spiritual perception—nothing.
He was certain Aiyan was trying to distract him.
"There's nothing behind me."
"And yet…" Aiyan chuckled. "I'm already looking at him."
"I think you're grieving a bit too hard."
"Don't worry—I'll send you to the afterlife to reunite."
Kōga's gaze sharpened, refusing to shift his eyes.
He remembered clearly what happened in the meeting hall. Muramasa had successfully Hypnotized Kyōka Suigetsu and struck Aizen down. Suppressed both Shikai and Bankai.
That Shinigami should've been dead.
"You keep repeating my name. You must miss me."
"Kuchiki Kōga… No, I should say: Sinner Kuchiki Kōga."
The voice didn't belong to Aiyan.
It came from behind Kōga.
Kōga's face changed dramatically.
That voice—how could he forget it?
The same voice that replaced him as special forces commander. The same voice that rose above him.
"Muramasa—didn't you Hypnotize him?"
"He was stabbed by his own Zanpakutō—how is he alive?"
Muramasa was equally shocked.
"He's just a Lieutenant… his spiritual power couldn't resist me!"
"Kyōka Suigetsu was mine to control!"
"Tell me… when did you start to believe Kyōka Suigetsu ever belonged to you?"
A soft, hypnotic voice broke the tension.
"Shatter—Kyōka Suigetsu."
The air cracked—like shattered glass.
And there, emerging through the fragments, stood Aizen.
One hand holding his Zanpakutō, calm, unharmed, utterly flawless.
"You… you're alive?!"
"You should've been…"
"I was always beside you," Aizen replied coldly.
"No. No way. This… this is…"
Muramasa was equally stunned.
"Kyōka Suigetsu… I Hypnotized you. I saw you fall."
"You… you were supposed to be dead!"
"When…" Aizen's voice was calm. "Did you start thinking Kyōka Suigetsu had ever been controlled by you?"
"You thought you had control?"
"You… were never even in the game."
Both of them were trembling.
Kōga took several steps back. The reality before him was unraveling, and he had no way to explain it.
Everything—everything—was under the control of the Sōsuke brothers.
He wasn't even a piece.
He was just the puppet.
And now… those strings were tightening.
A suffocating pressure rose in his chest—one that spoke of absolute despair.
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