The camera froze.
It focused on the back of Kisuke Urahara,
making it clear to all viewers—
the man standing behind him was Aizen.
Clad in the pale white substance and the uniform of Las Noches,
his tall, imposing figure suddenly appeared once more.
His handsome face—spotless.
Not a trace of ash or dirt marked him,
despite the terrifying explosion moments earlier.
"Impossible…"
"Not even a scratch? That's insane!"
"Even if Captain Aizen survived that blast, he should at least be half-dead—missing limbs or bedridden for months!"
The captains of the Gotei 13 were frozen,
their faces twisted with disbelief.
Too exaggerated.
Too monstrous.
If Aizen had even a single wound,
they could still accept it.
But he was completely unharmed—
not even sweating—standing there calm as ever.
As if—
Urahara had done absolutely nothing.
As if the massive explosion from his Hadō #1000: Senju Kaitenpō
had been nothing but an illusion.
"Captain Soi Fon…"
"Am I losing my mind?"
"Since when was Captain Aizen this powerful?!"
Inside the 2nd Division,
Ōmaeda was drenched in sweat, trembling with fear and confusion.
Yes—
for years, Aizen's image as the "good man"
had been deeply imprinted in every Soul Reaper's heart.
That impression ran deep,
and Ōmaeda was no exception.
He genuinely believed Aizen wasn't strong at all.
Among the ten captains,
Aizen should have been one of the weakest.
Everyone thought so.
Aizen became captain of the 5th Division
only because of Hirako Shinji's defection after the Hollowfication Incident a hundred years ago.
With so many captains lost overnight,
the Gotei 13 had no choice but to promote Aizen,
then just the 5th Division lieutenant,
to fill the vacancy.
The logic was sound.
Reasonable.
No one ever doubted it.
No one ever thought Aizen had grown stronger afterward.
No one.
In everyone's mind, he was ordinary—
his combat ability unremarkable,
his talent average.
Someone who could never cast a Hadō above level 90.
That was the Aizen in Ōmaeda's mind.
Until now.
Now, his worldview was collapsing.
Where had this strength come from?
Had Aizen suddenly unlocked some cheat overnight—
his reiatsu and talent exploding a hundredfold?
Such a thing had never happened in Soul Society.
And Ōmaeda didn't believe in miracles or cheats.
This was absurd.
"You're right,"
"I can't understand it either…"
Soi Fon shook her head, frowning deeply.
She and Aizen had only ever been colleagues—
two captains of equal rank.
They'd spoken a few times, nothing more.
Yet even she couldn't shake the feeling
that Aizen was completely different now.
Ever since that earlier clip—
the moment Aizen was first revealed—
her brows had stayed furrowed.
In her sharp eyes flickered deep confusion.
As Commander of the Stealth Force,
Soi Fon's mind was usually sharp and analytical.
But now, she found no clues.
No trace of logic to follow.
Aizen seemed like a stranger.
An enemy she had never met.
The "good man" Aizen—
that was nothing but a lie.
A fabricated persona that never existed.
The thought made her scalp prickle.
She gasped softly.
"Aizen's been pretending this whole time?"
"No… that can't be…"
Her voice faltered.
Her face stiffened.
Fear flickered in her eyes.
The possibility was terrifying.
Meanwhile, within the ranking video,
Aizen's arrogant voice rang out:
"Kisuke Urahara, you're right…"
"It doesn't matter if I was careless—
because I no longer need to pretend to be foolish."
He raised his hand.
A simple motion, as if drawing a blade through air—
and the power behind it rivaled Kenpachi Zaraki's full-strength slash from the previous ranking.
Shhkk!
Blood splattered.
Caught off guard,
Urahara was struck and staggered back,
his face stiffening in pain.
Aizen smiled faintly.
His tone was cold,
but brimming with arrogance.
"I can feel it…"
"Ever since the Hōgyoku submitted to me,
I've gained power beyond all of Soul Society."
"Now—no one can rival me."
"Even a Hadō in the nineties—
I need not evade."
Cold.
Arrogant.
Calmly mad.
The mask was shattered—Aizen had fully revealed himself.
He wasn't pretending anymore.
No more humble smiles, no more restraint.
Now, before the camera,
his entire demeanor shifted—
the same arrogance and superiority
displayed by the Arrancar themselves.
He looked down on everything—
on the Soul Reapers,
on kidō,
even on legendary spells.
That sheer arrogance,
the total break between his old and new personas,
shocked everyone watching.
The powerful figures of Soul Society—
especially the Gotei 13 captains—
were stunned speechless.
If this was Aizen now,
then who had he been before?
That gentle, mild-mannered man with a warm smile—
was that all an act?
The Seireitei fell silent.
Every Soul Reaper sat frozen in disbelief.
"Ignoring even the legendary kidō, huh?"
"My my, Captain Aizen…
after fusing with the Hōgyoku,
you've become quite the stranger."
Before the translucent screen,
Gin Ichimaru tilted his head with a sly grin,
side-eyeing Aizen while speaking in his usual playful tone.
In Gin's gaze—
the moment Aizen uttered the words "unrivaled,"
his expression subtly shifted.
Behind those black-framed glasses,
the man still smiled,
but the calm in his dark eyes was gone.
Instead—
there burned an unmistakable desire.
A hunger for power.
The joy of seeing one's dream realized.
"Gin…"
"Didn't you hear me?"
"On the path of evolution, one doesn't merely become something else—one changes."
Aizen's lips curved into a wicked smile.
Watching his future self merge with the Hōgyoku,
he was witnessing fantasy made real.
His dream—fulfilled before his eyes.
Having spent a century manipulating the Gotei 13
with his Zanpakutō Kyōka Suigetsu,
using its complete sensory hypnosis,
Aizen now savored every moment.
From the audience's perspective,
it was like watching theater—
and Aizen himself was enjoying the show.
He was both the actor and the spectator,
reveling in the ecstasy of boundless power.
Elsewhere, inside Las Noches.
The Arrancar army stared at the screen, dumbfounded.
Shock rippled through them.
"What the hell?!"
"That's Aizen?!"
"Arrogant, proud, overbearing…
He's acting more like a Hollow than a Soul Reaper!"
"I've never seen this side of him before…"
Utter disbelief.
Even the top Espada—Starrk, Harribel, Baraggan—
felt something twist inside.
Aizen seemed like a stranger.
There was no trace of his usual composure or elegance.
Only corruption—darkness—
a man who had become one of them.
The contrast was overwhelming.
His personality had turned completely.
Even the most loyal subordinate,
the black-winged demon Ulquiorra,
was visibly startled.
"Ah…"
Grimmjow, on the other hand,
didn't care how much Aizen changed.
He still wore that defiant grin,
refusing to bow to anyone.
(End of Chapter)
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