Between heaven and earth, a streak of white swordlight tore across the air.
Swish!
The blade shot forward, piercing cleanly through Aizen's chest, driving straight toward the horizon and vanishing into endless sky.
Aizen stared down at the blade jutting through him, confusion flickering across his face. Far in the distance, the Shinigami coalition watched, minds blank and eyes wide. None of them understood. Why—of all people—would Ichimaru Gin, Aizen's most loyal subordinate, turn his blade against his own master?
"Why… Gin?"
Aizen's voice trembled faintly with disbelief. He couldn't comprehend it—the betrayal of the one who had stood closest to him.
Gin said nothing. The ever-present smirk that had hidden his thoughts for so many years was gone. His eyes, once half-lidded with false amusement, were now open—sharp, focused, and brimming with killing intent.
He had waited for this day far longer than anyone else. Not Aizen, not Su Li—no one had endured the same patience or hatred that Ichimaru Gin had carried in silence.
He had followed Aizen through endless years of deceit and bloodshed, had taken lives and sinned beyond measure—all to reclaim something Aizen had stolen. Something precious. Something that had once belonged to Matsumoto Rangiku.
He didn't even know what it was exactly. But he had promised to take it back.
That childhood promise had become the single thread that wove through his entire existence. For that vow, Ichimaru Gin had willingly become a villain. For that vow, he bore the mask of a traitor, the stain of infamy, and the hatred of the world. For that vow—he would give up everything.
Gin's fingers tightened on Aizen's sword. His voice was low, steady, stripped of all pretense.
"As long as I'm touching the blade, Kyōka Suigetsu can't activate. This time… you can't escape."
His words were half to Aizen, half to himself—a vow spoken aloud at last.
"Gin…" Aizen murmured, eyes narrowing. He could hear layers of meaning in those few words—anger, resolve, sorrow—but it all distilled into a single truth: Gin would not let him leave alive.
Aizen's lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but something beyond Gin caught his eye—a pale face, trembling at the edge of the battlefield. Rangiku.
In that instant, Aizen understood.
"I see…" he thought silently, a strange calm filling his heart.
But Gin didn't give him the chance to think further. He had waited too long, far too long, to let hesitation steal this moment.
"Shoot him," Gin whispered coldly, "Kamishini no Yari."
Light flared along the silver blade. A heartbeat later, the hidden venom sealed within it erupted.
Boom!
Aizen's chest burst open in an explosion of force, the wound ripping downward from his left shoulder to his lower abdomen. His upper body split apart, flesh dissolving, blood evaporating before it even touched the ground. Within the gaping wound, a faintly glowing Hōgyoku shimmered in the cavity of his chest.
Aizen staggered backward, his body collapsing in slow motion. Even as he fell, his eyes never left Gin's face. For a fleeting moment, sorrow flickered there—an emotion Aizen rarely allowed himself to feel.
Gin watched in silence as Aizen fell, his expression unreadable. Then, as the echoes of the strike faded, he breathed out softly, voice trembling.
"Rangiku… I finally… avenged you."
His hands shook, his body numb. Relief and exhaustion mingled in his eyes, the kind that only comes when a lifetime of purpose reaches its end.
"Gin!" Rangiku's voice broke from the crowd, her hands clapped over her mouth as tears blurred her vision.
Tōshirō Hitsugaya, Urahara Kisuke, Kyōraku Shunsui—all stood frozen, eyes fixed on Gin. No one spoke. None had ever imagined that Ichimaru Gin—the smiling viper who had followed Aizen into treachery—had been the deepest undercover agent of them all.
Shock. Confusion. Understanding. Every emotion tangled into silence.
Then, without warning, the entire battlefield seemed to stop breathing.
Tōshirō's pupils constricted sharply. "No… it can't be…"
Before anyone could move, Aizen stirred.
He stood.
The body Gin had torn apart was whole again. The gaping hole through his torso sealed as though time itself had reversed. Behind him, three pairs of glowing wings unfurled from his back—ethereal, luminous, like a butterfly breaking free from its cocoon.
Aizen had evolved once more.
Gin's fatal strike had not destroyed him—it had catalyzed his next transformation. The Hōgyoku pulsed within him like a second heart, reshaping his body into something beyond a Shinigami's comprehension.
He had entered the fourth stage of evolution.
The Hōgyoku's true evolutionary phase.
Watching this impossible sight, despair swept through the gathered Shinigami. Gin's eyes dimmed, his earlier relief dissolving into quiet resignation. He had meant to stop Aizen, to buy time for Su Li's return. Instead, he had pushed him one step further toward godhood.
For the first time, Ichimaru Gin felt like a sinner.
High above, Aizen looked down at him with detached indifference. The aura around him had changed completely—his reiatsu now radiated an oppressive, divine stillness. He no longer felt human, nor even like a Shinigami. He felt like something that existed above creation.
He exhaled softly, calm settling into his eyes. So what if he was alone? So what if the world itself turned against him? He had surpassed them all. From this point onward, he would stand alone above heaven and earth.
Raising his blade, Aizen moved without hesitation. The tip sliced through the air and sank effortlessly into Gin's chest. The motion was smooth—almost delicate—like a knife passing through water.
Blood bloomed across Gin's robes, deep crimson against white.
"Gin!!" Rangiku's scream split the sky.
He turned his head slightly, lips trembling. "Sorry," he whispered weakly. "What I promised you… I still couldn't keep."
His gaze found her through the haze of pain. His eyes were soft now, stripped of malice, filled with warmth and regret. Rangiku's tears fell freely as she stared back, her heart breaking all over again.
Aizen said nothing. His face was impassive as he twisted the blade, slow and deliberate. Gin gasped, blood spilling from his lips. Aizen's hand tightened, pulling the sword sideways in one smooth motion.
"Farewell," he murmured.
The world around Gin began to fade. His vision darkened, and sound drained away until only the beat of his own slowing heart remained.
Then—puff!
A sudden flash. A burst of light streaked across the battlefield, striking Aizen square in the chest.
Boom!
The impact drove him half a step back, the shockwave rippling outward. Aizen looked down at his chest, where a faint footprint marked his robe. Annoyance flickered briefly across his expression. So, the boy had returned faster than expected.
He lifted his gaze.
Ichimaru Gin was gone.
Among the shattered ruins, a figure stood before the fallen captain—a boy whose quiet presence made the air itself tighten.
Su Li.
Gin looked at him through dimming eyes, his consciousness slipping. The boy's voice reached him, soft but unmistakably firm.
"Do you remember the question I asked you?"
Gin blinked weakly. "What… question?"
A faint smile curved Su Li's lips, pride and sorrow mingling there.
"Do you believe in love?"
{🥳 The Fanfic is now fully completed! 🎉
You can access 300+ advance chapters right now on Patreon—available for subscription or purchase! ✨
👉 patreon.com/Oreski
🥰 Your support keeps me motivated and eager to create even more amazing stories! }