Karakura Town.
Urahara Kisuke moved swiftly through the ruined city, special implements in hand, sealing away the confused humans. Rubble and broken walls filled the streets; Karakura was reduced to a battlefield of debris. Aizen's sudden appearance had come too quickly. There had been no time to construct the imitation town. The only choice was to fight the final battle here.
Fortunately, Kisuke had long anticipated this possibility. He had prepared the devices in advance, and thanks to his efforts, casualties among the civilians remained minimal. Yet this did nothing to ease the tide of war.
In the city's shattered center, captains and vice-captains stood wounded and bloodied. Their tattered uniforms and scorched skin spoke of the overwhelming force arrayed against them. Most captains had already lost their combat strength. The vice-captains fared no better.
"Is this the strength of Aizen's side…?"
"Kyōka Suigetsu's power—completely beyond comprehension."
"I can't follow his blade at all, let alone resist."
"Even Ryūjin Jakka has been sealed. The Captain-Commander's flames were extinguished."
"Do we truly have nothing left but Moyu…?"
Frustration and despair colored their faces. They had begun the battle with the advantage, yet within moments the field had reversed into utter collapse. Soul Society stood on the brink of annihilation.
Even Yamamoto Genryūsai, who had held his power in reserve until the very end, was undone. The Arrancar Wonderweiss had sealed away Ryūjin Jakka. Half of Yamamoto's strength vanished in an instant. With captains scattered in Hueco Mundo and others dead or defeated, this had become Soul Society's gravest crisis in a thousand years.
The earth itself bore the scars. Soil blackened to glass by searing heat, stone glowing red as if fresh from a furnace. At the center of a smoldering pit lay Yamamoto, body torn and burned, his chest heaving with labored breath.
"Such an explosion… and yet he suffers only this."
High above, Aizen gazed down with calm, unshaken eyes. "As expected of the Captain-Commander. Had you not used your body to contain it, your flames would have incinerated this entire city. For that, Yamamoto Genryūsai… I must thank you. You've preserved my world."
The old man's body refused him. His arms trembled, collapsing as soon as he tried to rise. His scorched frame sank deeper into the crater.
Aizen descended, footsteps unhurried, until he stood over the fallen giant. Without ceremony, he drew Kyōka Suigetsu. One blink later he was at Yamamoto's side, blade angled down.
"Yamamoto Genryūsai," he said lightly. "To you, I will not speak of mercy. You are the embodiment of Soul Society's history. At least allow my sword to be your escort."
The blade began its fall.
But in that instant—Yamamoto's blackened hand shot out, clamping onto Aizen's ankle with unyielding grip.
"Do not… make me repeat myself, boy."
The voice was hoarse, ragged, yet beneath it roared fury vast enough to consume all. His reiatsu surged, flames erupting once more from his arm, heat soaring to its peak.
"Hadō number ninety-six—Ittō Kasō! One Knife Cremation!"
Aizen's eyes widened, pupils contracting as danger seized him. He had not expected this. Yamamoto, sacrificing his charred body, unleashed the forbidden Kidō without hesitation.
Scarlet fire exploded upward, engulfing the battlefield. Crimson and orange flames intertwined, swelling into a blade of reishi so massive it seemed to pierce heaven itself.
The incandescent edge split the city from earth to sky, roaring with annihilation. The detonation thundered across Karakura, echoing even to distant towns.
At that moment, a Garganta opened at the city's edge. Two captains stepped from the darkness, their white haori gleaming in the firelight.
Moyu looked up at the crimson blade that carved sky and ground apart, admiration flickering in his eyes. "As expected of Old Man Yamamoto. That forbidden Kidō—if it continues, half the city could be erased."
Byakuya's expression hardened, eyes flashing with shock. "Even the Captain-Commander… to fall to this point?" He could feel Yamamoto's reiatsu faltering. After casting the forbidden spell, his strength was extinguished. He had nothing left.
Yet in the smoke and ruin, the old man's gaze still sought the sky. I leave the rest… to you.
A voice too faint for the others to hear carried upward. "Kuchiki Moyu."
The blast's smoke parted. A single figure leapt clear of the firestorm—Aizen Sōsuke.
Byakuya's pupils contracted. In that instant, without hesitation, he unfurled Senbonzakura. The Bankai bloomed, countless blades of cherry blossom surging toward Aizen in a storm.
But the petals scattered into emptiness. Aizen was not there. Kyōka Suigetsu's illusion had undone the strike. Byakuya froze, realization dawning too late.
Then, without warning, Aizen appeared before them both, smile curling across his lips.
"It has been some time, hasn't it? …Yūjun."
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