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"Why is this necessary?"
Kyōraku Shunsui gazed down at Hinamori Momo, unconscious on the floor, and shook his head with quiet regret.
"Another soul swallowed by hatred."
Moyu barely spared her a glance. To him, there was nothing worth dwelling on. Guided by misplaced grief, she had cast aside all reason, her judgment lowered to nothing. Friendship and loyalty meant little when a single whisper could twist her blade against a comrade she had trusted for years. Such a person was not worth his attention.
Unohana Retsu showed no sign of concern. Her voice was calm, measured as she looked toward the two captains still present.
"You both have duties waiting. Return to them. Leave what remains here to me."
Byakuya Kuchiki inclined his head silently before turning and departing. Shunsui lingered only long enough to lift Hinamori gently from the ground, carrying her with a quiet kindness before leaving the ward.
Moyu was about to take his leave as well when Unohana's voice stopped him.
"Mr. Moyu, remain a moment. I require your assistance."
Shunsui's steps paused briefly at the doorway. But Kaidō had never been his strength. In comparison, Moyu—trained once under the Fourth—was far more capable. Without comment, Shunsui left.
The room grew quiet. Only three remained.
Unohana's posture eased once the others were gone. The mask of captaincy seemed to lift.
"This is not about surgery, is it?"
Moyu had been beside her long enough to read her intentions.
Unohana's eyes softened in acknowledgment.
"You are right. It concerns Aizen's death."
Her gaze drifted briefly toward Nilu.
Moyu followed her look and said evenly, "Speak freely. Nilu can be trusted."
Unohana accepted his word without hesitation.
"The moment you entered, I noticed the change in your eyes. I assume it was the same when you looked at Captain Aizen's body. Did you sense something unusual?"
Moyu lowered his eyes toward the immaculate white sheet that had covered Aizen's form. He said nothing.
Kyōka Suigetsu.
Aizen's Zanpakutō remained a blade that Moyu regarded with vigilance. He could not say with certainty whether his own reiatsu—tempered though it was—could fully resist its hypnosis. Against one of the five great combat powers of Soul Society, any lapse meant death.
Seeing his silence, Unohana pressed no further. Between them, words were often unnecessary.
"I have examined tens of thousands of corpses," she said softly. "The structure of the body is familiar to me beyond doubt. This corpse showed nothing amiss. Even the severed Saketsu and Hakusui remained exactly as expected. The tests confirm he was struck down suddenly, betrayed by someone he trusted. And yet..."
Her voice slowed, her expression deepened.
"This body lacks the weight of death. It does not carry the essence that every corpse should bear. I inspected it repeatedly and found no flaw. Even so, something was wrong. Mr. Moyu, you understand what I mean, don't you?"
Moyu studied her with quiet admiration. Even bound in Kyōka Suigetsu's illusion, she had felt the dissonance. Few in Soul Society could pierce even a corner of that veil.
At last he spoke.
"Sister Hua, your intuition is correct. Aizen... is not dead."
Unohana's brows knit tightly, disbelief flickering across her composed face.
"This—"
Moyu pressed on. "You wonder why I place such trust in Nilu?" He drew her forward.
Under Unohana's steady gaze, Nilu shifted uneasily, masking her tension with a small awkward smile.
"Introduce yourself," Moyu said.
Nilu hesitated, then forced the words.
"My name is Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck. Former Third Espada of Hueco Mundo... once under Aizen's command."
Even those few words struck Unohana like a blade. For the first time in centuries, her calm faltered, her breath pausing.
Moyu continued without pause.
"This corpse is nothing more than illusion. Kyōka Suigetsu's true ability—Complete Hypnosis. It manipulates all five senses, making any object appear exactly as Aizen desires. Form, weight, texture, even taste and sound—every sense is deceived. Once one has seen his Shikai, the hypnosis cannot be undone. Only death frees the victim."
Unohana's poise slipped further, the implications staggering even for her steel composure. The terror of such an ability required time—long time—to fully accept.
At last, with voice quieter, she asked, "Then why not reveal this truth to the other captains?"
Her own silence had been born of doubt—fear that her suspicion might prove false. But Moyu carried certainty. He knew more than she had ever guessed.
"It is not exposing Aizen that is difficult," Moyu said. His tone carried a weight that settled heavily in the ward. "Defeating him is. If we force his hand too soon, Seireitei will burn in war. And the balance of all the worlds may collapse."
His words were plain and without embellishment. Against Aizen, most captains were scarcely more than obstacles. Even his kidō alone—Hadō 90, Kurohitsugi—was enough to erase them. Only Yamamoto Genryūsai could face him with real hope. And even then, Kyōka Suigetsu's hypnosis left no certainty. To destroy Aizen entirely might demand the destruction of Seireitei itself.
Yet Moyu carried another reason.
Only under pressure beyond limit could his own power break its bottleneck. Waiting centuries for gradual growth was not an option. He needed the crushing weight of Aizen's strength—and the Hōgyoku—to force his evolution.
"Aizen's plans are already in motion," he said slowly. "The ryoka invasion is the signal. Seireitei is already collapsing into disorder."
Unohana lowered her gaze, thoughtful. She doubted none of his words. Yet the truth was too vast to absorb in an instant.
"Wait for the moment," Moyu told her, his tone sharp with resolve. "Until then, leave it to me."
At those words, her calm returned. A gentle smile touched her lips.
"I understand," she said softly. "And I will keep your words close."
Leaving the Fourth Division barracks, Moyu and Nilu turned toward the Repentance Palace. The execution had not been canceled. Even with Aizen's supposed death, Central 46's will pressed heavily on the Head Captain.
At the Palace, time moved relentlessly. As the hour of judgment approached, Abarai Renji was led out from the Sixth Cell. His escort was Komamura Sajin, loyal captain of the Seventh, tasked now with guarding prisoners after the recent prison breach.
Renji squinted against the glare of the sun overhead, his expression shadowed. Perhaps this was the last time he would see such a sky.
"Renji!"
The shout rang across the courtyard.
He froze, disbelieving.
From the far side, a black-clad figure sprinted toward him, sword raised high.
Kurosaki Ichigo.
His voice thundered.
"I'm here to take you back, Renji!"
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