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Sōkyoku Hill.
Aizen carefully drew the Hōgyoku from the hollow in Rukia Kuchiki's chest. With it gone, the wound closed instantly, the emptiness within her vanishing as if it had never been.
He let her body fall like discarded cloth. Rukia lay motionless, eyes dull, skin pale.
Aizen barely spared her a glance. His full attention rested on the sphere in his palm, his expression lit with quiet triumph.
It's finally here.
He had cut through countless obstacles for this—murdering Central 46, forging orders, staging the Sōkyoku execution—each step a stone laid toward this moment. Originally, he had intended for the execution's fire to obliterate Rukia's soul and release the Hōgyoku. But caution had driven him to seek other means.
In the end, the tools and techniques Urahara Kisuke had left hidden in the Great Spirit Book Corridor provided the key—allowing the extraction without killing her. It had cost time, deception, and precision, but the reward was now in his hand.
"The plan has finally come true, Captain Aizen," Ichimaru Gin said with his ever-present smile.
"Perfect," Aizen replied, tucking the Hōgyoku away.
His gaze shifted to a pool of golden light nearby. Within it, a young girl worked, moving with quiet urgency—Inoue Orihime.
She had gathered the fallen together: Kurosaki Ichigo, Renji Abarai, Byakuya Kuchiki, Chōjirō Sasakibe. Her brow was damp with sweat, her face pale. The shimmering light of her power enveloped them, mending wounds and pulling them back from the brink.
Aizen's eyes glimmered. "Remarkable… such a power."
Then his voice turned smooth and decisive. "Gin, recall Yao. End the fight with that one."
Gin's gaze flicked to Rukia. "And this girl?"
"She has no value. Kill her." Aizen's tone was flat, detached.
Gin's smile widened as he drew Shinsō, the blade whispering free.
"Rukia…"
Kurosaki Ichigo's eyes opened slowly. He saw her lying there and tried to rise, teeth clenched, but collapsed again with a sharp breath.
"Orihime," he heard her plead, "You're still badly injured! If you force yourself now, you'll die!"
Ichigo's voice shook with frustration. "Damn it… how can I just watch…?"
Renji stirred nearby, his struggle a mirror of Ichigo's—helplessness and anger in equal measure.
Even Byakuya and Sasakibe could only glare at Aizen from where they lay, their bodies refusing to answer their will.
Gin leveled his blade at Rukia. "Farewell, Miss Rukia."
She lay still, back to her allies, staring up at a dead gray sky. Farewell, she whispered inwardly.
"Shoot her," Gin said softly, his words edged with cold.
A sudden explosion ripped through the air.
The black shell of Tōsen Kaname's Bankai shattered in the distance, fragments of reiatsu scattering like glass.
Aizen and Gin turned sharply, eyes narrowing.
From the haze stepped a young man wearing a calm, almost cheerful smile—Su Li. In his hand dangled a limp, blood-soaked Tōsen.
For the first time, Aizen's gaze held something unreadable. Gin's smile flattened, eyes opening fully as he lifted Shinsō.
"Shinsō," he said coldly.
The blade shot forward, a streak of white, faster than sight. But instead of the impact of steel through flesh, Gin felt a jolt of wrongness—no hit, no resistance.
Su Li was gone.
In the same heartbeat, he appeared before Gin, shadow falling over him.
Then came the strike.
A single kick crashed into Gin's chest with devastating force.
Bone crumpled, blood burst from his mouth, and his body tore through the air before hitting the ground hard. His chest was caved in, his robes soaked scarlet, breath shallow and ragged.
"Impossible…" Ichigo breathed, eyes wide.
"With just one kick…" Sasakibe murmured, his tone caught between awe and disbelief.
Byakuya stared at Su Li's back, remembering how the man had only defended in their fight. If that kick had been meant for him, there was no question—the result would be the same as Gin's.
Aizen's expression grew more complex. He could feel it—Tōsen and Gin still clung to life, but only barely.
"Captain Aizen," Su Li said lightly, dropping Tōsen to the ground as if discarding refuse. "Your two friends are a little fragile. One punch, one kick, and they're finished."
He brushed his hands together as if to shake off dirt, though only blood stained them—Tōsen's blood. Droplets slid down his face, bright against his calm smile, the scene both serene and unsettling under the sunlight.
A warm splash struck Rukia's cheek.
Her senses returned slowly. She thought she heard a familiar voice. A dream?
She pushed herself up and turned—her eyes meeting that smiling, blood-marked face. From where she sat, it wasn't terrifying at all. It felt… warm.
"Su Li…" she whispered, almost dazed.
And at the same time, Aizen's voice came low and measured. "Su Li… you truly surprise me."
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