Chapter 231: Intensity
The Gotei 13 was, at its core, an organization of assassins.
They carried out slaughter in the name of protection. That was the original Gotei 13. Every one of them was a notorious villain within Soul Society, hands stained with endless blood and sin. The man who forced those sinners into absolute obedience was Yamamoto Shigekuni.
This old man who looked so stern and humorless had once been something far worse. In his prime, he was ruthless, terrifying, and iron blooded. No matter how many subordinates died, even if Soul Society itself was reduced to ruin, it was only another outcome on the board. Anyone who opposed him would be burned into dust by rage and flame. Those who survived that ancient war still trembled when they remembered Yamamoto Shigekuni's presence.
Bankai, Zanka no Tachi.
The monster who had once nearly destroyed Soul Society. The strongest Shinigami in this world. The former Yamamoto Shigekuni was invincible.
To him, destruction and construction were equally easy. His subordinates were criminals dragged out of Rukongai or the Noble Clans, people whose deaths would not be mourned by the system. Even comrades could be executed by his own hand. An entire squad could be erased in flame without hesitation.
Even the corpses of his own people would appear inside his inferno.
He did not care.
He was a man of steel, impossible to threaten, impossible to define.
That was why Yhwach had accepted his defeat so completely. Even holding a massive advantage, Yamamoto Shigekuni never bothered with any so called honorable duel. Ambushes, traps, even his own death, Yhwach held no particular resentment toward those methods.
Because that was Yamamoto Shigekuni, the man who ruled Seireitei and made the name of the Gotei 13 echo across the world.
When those flames rose, divine punishment descended.
Yhwach understood clearly that the Yamamoto Shigekuni of that era, even if he returned with Yhwach's current forces, would likely still be impossible to defeat. Because that man would rather burn all of Soul Society than allow an enemy to claim victory.
Fighting someone who feared neither death nor the destruction of the world was meaningless. You could not win. Victory itself became irrelevant. All that remained was a scorched hell, the Three Realms turned into endless ash and wasteland. No victors, no losers, only death, boiling Hell, and a world reversed into ruin.
That Yamamoto Shigekuni would not lose.
But what was the current Yamamoto Shigekuni like?
He was still stern. Still cold. Yet the difference was too vast to ignore.
He had pride. Self respect. A sense of ethics, of restraint, of responsibility to his disciples. If it were the former Yamamoto Shigekuni, the moment he sensed Aizen Sōsuke was a problem, he would have arranged an assassination immediately. If the assassins failed, he would do it himself.
Evidence?
Proof?
Recognition?
What did any of that have to do with the old Gotei 13?
Back then, the Gotei 13 embodied madness. They would kill their own, even themselves, to keep Seireitei safe. Nothing was beyond sacrifice. Nothing was sacred. Good or evil did not matter. Fight first, settle the details after.
But the current Yamamoto Shigekuni demanded evidence. He needed consensus. He relied on elaborate facts and convincing narratives provided by those around him.
Even when the truth was already conclusive, he would hesitate unless he was certain his actions would not harm Soul Society. He would prefer his Captains to move in his place. He did not want to face it. He did not want to wound his disciples, his family, his bonds.
Even when everything was on the brink, when losing could mean the end of the world, the current Yamamoto Shigekuni would choose to sacrifice himself to save his disciples and the innocent.
Bound by kinship, emotion, ethics, and morality, he was no longer an invincible Shinigami.
He was simply an old man.
Yamamoto Genryūsai.
Was such a person still worth fearing?
Not anymore.
War would inevitably turn Seireitei upside down, and Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni refused to harm Soul Society more than necessary. That was not clarity. That was hesitation dressed as virtue.
War was life and death.
To worry first about the cost of your Bankai, instead of how to win, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, were you truly thinking straight?
That was why Yhwach had been so confident.
His greatest enemy, the terrifying Gotei 13, was already dead.
Even if the current Captains seemed stronger, more talented, more vibrant than the past, in Yhwach's eyes they were corpses that had not yet fallen over. Only a handful of special talents required attention. Once marked, they became fixed points.
Kenpachi Zaraki.
Urahara Kisuke.
Ichibe Hyosube.
Aizen Sōsuke.
Kurosaki Ichigo.
These five were the names Yhwach had marked.
As long as he watched those three carefully, Soul Society would no longer have any enemy capable of resisting the Quincy. Then he could pull his Father from eternal death, grant him true death, and finally allow himself to save this hopeless world.
That was what Yhwach believed.
And he believed it happily.
His ability, The Almighty, was entrusted to his Other Half, Haschwalth, while Yhwach slept and absorbed souls. Through Haschwalth's reports, through the faint reflections he could still grasp, he saw a future where victory was complete.
No problems.
No accidents.
He was the true future, the promise, the permission of The Almighty.
This world would no longer hold pain or sorrow. That was the future Yhwach promised the Quincy.
So why had it become like this?
Aizen Sōsuke, why?
What had caused Aizen to grow so immensely powerful?
Looking beyond the world, what could possibly matter more than the world beneath your feet?
When your homeland was already rotting, why stare into distant skies?
This world was built upon the ugly system of the Soul King, a cycle forged from the suffering of a saint. And that sacrifice had been forced by the legendary World Devouring Hollow. Yet unlike the Shinigami, Quincy power could erase Hollows completely.
Even if Hell rose from the center of existence, a world already collapsing into Chaos could swallow it.
Life and death would no longer be separated cleanly. They would become blurred, indistinct.
No one would fear lifespan.
No one would fear illness.
Everyone would become immortal Stillness, resting in eternal peace within Chaos.
Was that not good?
A world carried and controlled by his own hands.
So why would Aizen Sōsuke oppose it?
'Because I merely wanted to show you what this world truly looks like.'
"...!"
"Your Majesty!"
Haschwalth stepped forward at once, worry tightening his gaze as he looked toward the throne.
Yhwach had returned to his seat to activate his ability and observe the future after Aizen Sōsuke's mockery. Now he sat there, gasping, breath heavy, shoulders rising and falling as if he had been dragged back to the loneliness of a thousand years ago.
His massive frame looked solitary against the cold throne.
Haschwalth, clad in his golden haired military uniform, said nothing. As Yhwach's Other Half, he was not someone who flattered or rushed to soothe. His presence alone was the greatest support. When Yhwach slept and absorbed power, Haschwalth temporarily carried The Almighty, seeing farther futures that were distant and faint.
Yet just now, the ability should have been with Haschwalth.
So why had Yhwach reacted like this?
After a long silence, Yhwach finally drew a deep breath. Slowly, he turned his head toward the man beside him, the one he trusted most.
"Haschwalth," he said quietly, voice rough. "What did you see in the future?"
"...I saw nothing, Your Majesty."
"I see." Yhwach's eyes narrowed, then softened into something darker. "Has that man's power already begun to erode my ability?"
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty."
"It doesn't matter." Yhwach forced steadiness back into his voice, like a king straightening a cracked crown. "No matter how capable Aizen Sōsuke is, he is still severely wounded. We have confirmed that. He is gathering allies now, summoning beings from the Stellar Universe, attempting to restore his body."
He paused.
"We still have time."
The words sounded weak.
They sounded like an excuse.
And neither of them needed to say it aloud to understand what they truly meant.
Yhwach, The Almighty, could no longer see the future.
Worse than that, somewhere inside him, a thought had begun to take shape.
A thought of yielding.
That realization was sorrowful enough.
But the truly tragic part was that Yhwach could not even find a reason to deny his own incompetence.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni had grown old.
But how much had Yhwach himself changed?
.....
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