"Rangiku…"
"Matsumoto Rangiku?"
"So it was all… because of her?!"
"Unbelievable! Gin Ichimaru… was actually that devoted?!"
"So that's it—back when Gin and Rangiku were childhood friends in Rukongai—"
"Aizen, that bastard, must've done something horrible to them back then!"
"No wonder Gin held that hatred for a hundred years!!!"
Seireitei shook once more.
The Shinigami of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads erupted into chaos.
When the video revealed the truth—
and the woman involved was none other than "Soul Society's No. 1 Bombshell," Matsumoto Rangiku—
everyone's first reaction was disbelief and shock.
But when they thought deeper, it all made perfect sense.
Yes…
only a childhood bond that deep could have moved Gin Ichimaru's heart enough to make him pay such a price.
Only—
that price,
and the devotion behind it,
seemed far too heavy.
Extreme beyond measure.
"Gin…"
Inside Squad 1's barracks, all the captains turned their eyes toward Rangiku.
Her mind went blank.
Tears blurred her vision before she even realized it.
In her mind, memories began to surface—
the days a century ago, when she and Gin wandered Rukongai,
sharing dried persimmons, laughing despite their hunger.
They were poor, starving, but they had each other.
Until the day Gin left—
to join the Gotei 13, to become strong enough for revenge.
Now, after a hundred years, too much had changed.
Time had blurred her memory.
The truth—that Aizen had stolen part of her soul—
she had long since forgotten.
And because she couldn't recall it fully,
the realization hit her even harder.
Gin's near-obsessive resolve, his century of plotting,
all of it… was because of her.
"Gin…"
"Over there in Hueco Mundo… you're still alive, right?"
She lifted her gaze, tears trembling in her eyes,
looking toward the heavens of Soul Society,
as if her sight could pierce the barrier to Hueco Mundo itself.
Right now, her only wish
was that the Gin in reality could do what his future self did—
to strike down Aizen,
so that he might live.
Because only if Aizen died
could Gin have any chance to survive.
At that moment, inside Las Noches,
the air grew suffocating.
On the throne, the man once called god among Shinigami lay dissolved,
his body reduced to melted flesh and blood—
a mirror image of what had been shown in the video.
Head separated from body.
Neck and shoulders split.
The heart burst apart, fragments scattered across the blood-soaked throne.
Even the Arrancar—
beings who had lived through countless killings and carnage—
felt their scalps crawl.
They could sense how ruthless Gin's strike had been,
and how terrifying Shinsō truly was.
Only one man, however—Tōsen Kaname—
lost control.
Seeing Aizen's corpse with his own eyes,
he broke down, trembling with rage.
"Damn you… Gin Ichimaru! Do you even know what you've done?!
Your actions are pure betrayal!!!"
He raised his blade.
The tip of Suzumushi gleamed coldly,
aimed at Gin's chest.
But Tōsen was far too weak.
His trembling fury didn't even register as a threat.
Gin didn't bother to turn.
"Tōsen Kaname…"
He half-closed his eyes, scanning the upper balcony—
Grimmjow, Nnoitra, Baraggan—all watching.
With a sly smile, Gin spoke lightly:
"You might wanna pray for yourself instead.
There are plenty of people here who've been wanting you dead for a while now."
He wasn't wrong.
The Espada all feared Gin and his Shinsō—
but Tōsen was another story entirely.
Grimmjow and Nnoitra in particular had hated him from the start.
Even when Aizen was alive, they'd mocked and threatened him to his face.
Now, with their "god" slain—
the restraint was gone.
"Hey…"
"Boys, let's get him!"
"Kill Tōsen! End everything Aizen started! Erase the shame the Shinigami brought us!!!"
Baraggan moved first.
Arms crossed, then slowly spreading apart—
his massive axe materialized in his grip.
An oppressive spiritual pressure, black as night,
burst from his aging body.
The power of "decay" spread instantly—
crumbling the stone pillars and floor.
Seeing this,
even Harribel, usually composed, dropped her mask of calm.
Yammy, Grimmjow, and Nnoitra all bared their fangs,
releasing their own energy.
Every gaze turned bloodthirsty, fixed on Tōsen.
The thrill of killing burned in their eyes.
"Tōsen…"
"You worthless trash!!!"
"I've had enough of you!!!"
Grimmjow shoved one hand into his pocket.
In the other, crimson light condensed into a cero.
He grinned, feral and cruel.
Ever since he'd learned that his future self would evolve into a Vasto Lorde—
and even slay a pureblood Quincy—
his pride had exploded.
There was no way he'd keep bowing to some blind Shinigami now.
As for Starrk, Ulquiorra, and the others—
even those loyal to Aizen felt no sympathy for Tōsen.
None of them would lift a hand to protect a Shinigami among them.
Meaning—
unless Aizen somehow revived—
Tōsen's death was inevitable.
He'd be torn apart by his own comrades.
But then—
as tension reached its peak,
and Gin leaned back, smiling to watch the chaos unfold—
A voice echoed.
A voice that should not exist.
A voice that should have been gone forever.
"Gin…"
"You went a bit too far…"
"Otherwise, I wouldn't have realized how unwelcome I've become among the Espada."
The tone was calm, magnetic, and regal.
The sound alone carried authority—pure, effortless dominance.
"—!!!—"
The entire hall froze.
Not a breath. Not a sound.
Every Arrancar's body locked up,
faces twisting in shock and horror.
Their eyes bulged as one voice broke through the silence:
"AIZEN!!!"
"He's alive?! How—how is that possible?!"
A wave of terror swept through Las Noches.
Even the mighty Espada trembled.
And then they noticed—
the corpse on the throne… was gone.
Not just the corpse—every trace of blood, every mark of battle had vanished.
The throne was spotless,
as if no killing had ever occurred at all.
"W-what…"
"No way—Aizen's still alive?!"
Gin froze.
His pupils quivered, every instinct screaming danger.
But by the time he reacted—
it was too late.
"Gin—!!!"
The flash of a blade split the air behind him.
The strike came down from above—
clean, absolute.
A single slash from the pinnacle of Shinigami power.
The blade cut through bone, spraying blood into the air.
Gin collapsed, body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
Blood pooled beneath him.
And as his vision dimmed, he finally saw—
Aizen.
Standing tall. Untouched.
Not a wound, not a speck of dirt on his immaculate white uniform.
"Gin…"
"So it was for Matsumoto Rangiku… that woman."
"I'll admit—your plan was clever, and Shinsō's true ability is impressive."
His bangs drifted over his forehead,
but Aizen's expression held no anger—only cold amusement.
He placed his Zanpakutō by his side,
wiped the blood from its edge,
and raised his eyes toward the glowing screen.
"Still… I should thank that little video."
"Those repeated close-ups gave me all the clues I needed."
"They allowed me to quietly activate Kyōka Suigetsu's 'complete sensory hypnosis'—"
"so that you, Gin, were fooled into thinking you had killed the real me."
(End of Chapter)
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