"No... way..."
A low voice echoed through the ruins of Karakura Town. Ichigo Kurosaki stood paralyzed as he felt the weight of a spiritual pressure like the crushing depths of the deep sea. The words he had just heard made his mind reel.
"Two... two Hogyokus!?"
"This is bad," Isshin Kurosaki muttered.
The tide of the final battle had shifted abruptly. Both Ichigo and his father, as well as their opponent Gin Ichimaru, found their attention drawn toward the center of the battlefield. There, standing amidst a pillar of spiritual flame, was Sosuke Aizen—his form transformed into something monstrous and alien.
"Ichigo... I'll leave this to you," Isshin said suddenly.
"Wait, Dad!?"
Isshin sensed the crisis his comrades were in and rushed toward Aizen's position. Ichigo moved to follow, but his path was blocked. Surprisingly, there was no follow-up attack from his opponent.
Ichigo looked back at Gin Ichimaru and gasped.
"So, that's how it is," Gin said, scratching his head. "Captain Aizen really is a cruel man." He was smiling—a twisted, eerie grin that sent a chill down Ichigo's spine.
Gin turned slowly, his slit-eyed gaze locking onto Ichigo, who was drenched in cold sweat.
"Well, since Captain Shiba is gone... if there's anything you want to ask, I'm feeling generous. Go ahead, kid."
"What...?"
"I'll answer anything right now."
The words felt like a venomous snake coiling around Ichigo's neck. He felt a surge of indignation; after being jerked around by half-truths for so long, what was this man playing at? His father's warning echoed in his mind: Don't listen to him.
Ichigo knew who he should trust.
"I don't have a single thing to ask you."
"Oh, really? Maybe I teased you a bit too much."
"I have no guarantee you'd tell the truth anyway. I'm done being confused by you!"
Shaking off the temptation, Ichigo donned his Hollow mask and lunged at the fox-eyed man with everything he had. He was worried about his friends fighting Aizen; he had to finish this quickly and go help them.
But Gin seemed to read his mind, and his blade grew sharper and faster in response.
"What's the matter, Ichigo? A minute ago you were pouting because I wasn't looking at you, and now you won't even look at me?"
Tch, this guy...!
"You and your father couldn't push me back together. If you underestimate me now, you're going to get hurt. Here."
—Kamishini no Yari: Buto—
"Gah!?"
A vicious thrust pierced the edge of Ichigo's mask, and his vision was instantly blurred by blood. The terrifying power of Gin's Bankai wasn't just its length—it was the speed of its extension. It retracted and extended in the blink of an eye. Even if Ichigo could handle the raw power of the strikes, the sheer speed made every second a life-or-death struggle.
Against Gin, there was no such thing as "distance." If the tip of that blade pointed at him, it was already over. Ichigo's mental stamina was being ground down to nothing.
"You know, I actually feel sorry for you," Gin said, his voice overlapping with the sound of clashing steel.
"What...?"
"Your life, your birth, even your parents. Everything has been dancing in the palm of a certain man's hand."
"What are you talking about!?"
"Seriously, looking at you makes 'miracles' and 'destiny' sound like one big, cosmic joke."
Ichigo's blade wavered for a fraction of a second. Gin didn't miss it.
"Wha—no! GAAGH!"
"Oops. I thought you weren't listening to the enemy? You left yourself wide open."
Ichigo was consumed by frustration, fear, and agony. A god-speed strike had pierced his side. His mind was a mess of lies and half-truths. And in the distance, he could feel the astronomical spiritual pressure of Sosuke Aizen growing even larger.
Unable to take it anymore, Ichigo thrust his sword into the ground, letting out a roar to clear the fog in his mind.
"UAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"
—GETSUGA TENSHO—
A wave of pitch-black spiritual pressure pulverized the earth, consuming everything around him. It was a reckless, self-destructive move, but it succeeded in halting Gin's relentless assault.
"Hah... hah... damn it..."
Ichigo stood in the rising dust, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
What the hell is going on? He had vented his frustration through violence, but his heart was still a raging storm.
My life, my birth, my parents... all in the palm of your hand? Miracles and destiny are a joke? You're the one who's a joke, you fox-eyed bastard!
His father had been right. Just listening to this man would drive him insane. Ichigo closed his ears to the words and braced himself.
"Hmm. I guess you really don't believe me," Gin said as the dust settled, revealing his perfectly composed form.
Ichigo realized a desperate attack like that wouldn't be enough to take him down. He gripped his sword tighter, focusing his energy into his feet for a Flash Step.
"Fine. Then you're free to go over to Captain Aizen."
Ichigo froze. "What?"
"You heard me. My job here is done. I've told you everything you 'need' to know. Whether you believe it or not is up to you."
Ichigo gritted his teeth. It was a classic manipulation—if pushing doesn't work, pull. Give the target a choice. Even as a high schooler, Ichigo recognized the tactic, but it didn't make it any less effective. Gin looked at him with an exasperated expression.
"Don't look so angry. I'm being nice."
"Like hell you are! I'm not listening to a word you say!"
"You really don't get it, do you?" Gin sighed, looking away from the furious youth. He pointed a finger behind Ichigo. "Shouldn't you hurry? If you don't..."
Wait... no!
A massive explosion erupted behind him. Even amidst Aizen's overwhelming pressure, Ichigo sensed a change. He spun around and saw it through his mask.
"See? Your father just retired."
He saw Isshin Kurosaki falling to the ground, cut down by a single strike from Sosuke Aizen.
***
"Ura... hara..."
Isshin Kurosaki had rushed to help, but he had been too late. The scene he arrived at was one of total devastation. Kisuke Urahara, Yoruichi Shihoin, the Gotei 13, and the Visoreds—everyone had been defeated.
"AIZEN!"
Fuelled by a need for vengeance, Isshin unleashed a full-power Getsuga Tensho at the Demon King, who was currently speaking to Captain Retsu Unohana.
CLANG!
The sound of steel hitting something impenetrable echoed through the smoke. Isshin's blade, Engetsu, had struck Aizen's head with enough force to cleave it in two, yet it hadn't left a single scratch.
Aizen turned slowly to face the stunned Isshin.
"Was Ichigo's face a sight to behold, Isshin Shiba?"
Sosuke Aizen wore a smile of pure irony.
"You bastard... so Hinamori's Hogyoku was just a decoy after all!?"
Isshin braced himself, his eyes fixed on the small, glowing orb in the center of Aizen's chest. It was the Hogyoku—the hyper-substance that governed the boundary between Soul Reaper and Hollow. Isshin had seen the real thing once before; he knew at a glance that this one was authentic.
"It was no decoy. Both I and Momo possess a Hogyoku that is uniquely authentic."
"Hah! The one Urahara and Toshiro destroyed? That thing is a volatile substance that even Urahara couldn't destroy in a hundred years!"
Aizen was in a bizarre state. His hair had grown long, reaching his back, and his body was wrapped in a seamless white garment. His eyes were stained a deep purple. Despite standing right in front of him, Isshin couldn't feel a trace of spiritual pressure.
It was proof. Aizen had reached the same transcendent state as the Hinamori-monster.
"Good grief. I went through the trouble of manifesting my voice through spirit particles just so you all could hear me. At least try to use that meager brain of yours to understand."
"Oh, I understand. I understand you're a piece of trash lower than a monster!"
Isshin swung his sword again. As a former Captain of Squad 10 who had known Momo Hinamori through his former subordinate Toshiro Hitsugaya, he was filled with rage at how Aizen had defiled that kind girl's humanity.
Carrying the grudge of the incident from twenty years ago involving the "White" parasite Hollow, Isshin unleashed a second Getsuga Tensho with every ounce of his strength.
"To think that is your only takeaway from my words. You truly understand nothing."
Whack.
Aizen swatted the massive attack away as if he were brushing aside a fly. He looked at the stunned Isshin and let out a small sigh before beginning to speak in riddles once more.
"There is a vast intellectual gap between us, Isshin Kurosaki. You, who are content to slumber in the status quo, and I, who seek constant evolution and progress... we perceive the world in fundamentally different ways."
"..."
"The Hogyoku is singular. Its awakening cannot be rushed. It can only govern the boundary between Soul Reaper and Hollow. All of these are illusions created by your own stagnant perceptions."
Isshin snapped out of his daze. "Wait... what are you talking about? Isn't the Hogyoku a substance that breaks down the barrier between souls?"
"That perception is exactly why you have stalled, Isshin."
Aizen continued. Kisuke Urahara had created the Hogyoku with a specific purpose: to break the walls between souls. But he had faltered. He grew afraid of the god-like, supernatural power of his own creation.
"He failed to realize the truth until the very end. He was paralyzed by fear and trapped by his own preconceptions. He continued to misunderstand the Hogyoku's true nature."
"Stop talking in circles! You fused with it—what did you learn!?"
"You still don't see it?" Aizen asked.
"The reason Ichigo Kurosaki awakened his Soul Reaper powers. The reason Rukia Kuchiki lost all her powers to him. The reason Yasutora Sado and Orihime Inoue awakened their unique abilities. Every single phenomenon that occurred around Kisuke Urahara—every 'miracle' that defied human intervention—was an event given form by the Hogyoku's will."
"What!?"
Aizen had finally put the Hogyoku's true power into words.
"The Hogyoku's true power is not the ability to govern the boundary between opposing souls."
"—It is the power to manifest the desires of those around it."
"What... did you say...?"
Isshin gasped. It was a tool that granted wishes within a certain range. Urahara had likely sensed this truth, just as he had. He had also known that Aizen would seek that power.
"I always questioned the stated goal of Hogyoku research. If its true power was merely to govern the boundary between Soul Reaper and Hollow, Shinji Hirako and the others would never have ended up as mere 'Visored' failures."
"..."
"It was obvious that the Hogyoku's power reached far beyond that hypothesis. I allowed Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia Kuchiki to meet right in front of Kisuke Urahara. It was one of the experiments I prepared to verify my theory."
I knew it. Isshin had felt a sense of dread for a long time—a strange feeling that every fateful event was being guided by a single will. Urahara, who wanted a vessel to hide the Hogyoku; Ichigo, who wanted the power to protect his family; Rukia, who was in despair over her life as a Soul Reaper. It was too convenient that all their desires aligned perfectly.
"One... of your experiments...?"
"Yes, Isshin Kurosaki. You... or rather, your entire family... have been very useful in my research."
Isshin's eyebrows twitched. A cold dread filled his heart. Gin's words, Urahara's theories—everything was taking the shape of a massive conspiracy.
"Don't screw with me."
But Aizen didn't stop.
"Your Bankai, which served as a reference for my research into Ryujin Jakka. Your Gigai, which I used to test the Negacion technology for transferring spiritual power. And..."
"You... you bastard!!"
Isshin lunged forward. Aizen mocked him, revealing the final truth.
"Twenty years ago, I conducted a crossbreeding experiment with the goal of creating an individual with the powers of opposing races. That boy is the result—the union of your Soul Reaper powers and the pure blood of a Quincy, Masaki Kurosaki—"
"BANKAI!"
A massive pillar of fire erupted, incinerating the air and drowning out Aizen's words. In the center of the inferno stood Isshin Kurosaki, transformed into a red-eyed demon of rage.
"Aizen... don't you dare use my son as your toy!"
The father projected his rage into his spiritual pressure, his very blood burning. Aizen looked at the man and laughed.
"How tragic, Isshin. It isn't just your son."
"—You and your son are both my playthings."
That was the final straw. His mind consumed by a rage that threatened to burst every vessel in his brain, Isshin charged at Aizen with everything he had.
"DIE, YOU PIECE OF TRASH!"
—Ryusei: Tenma Engetsu—
A crimson comet streaked through the air with blinding speed. To reclaim his family's honor, the father unleashed his final, desperate strike upon the Demon King.
"Ah... I'm sorry."
"Gah... h..."
"Compared to him, you really were a subpar toy."
Warmth spilled from his stomach—not the heat of his own flames, but the life-force of his soul. Isshin didn't even have time to realize he had been cut down. His will to fight was erased, and he collapsed pathetically onto the earth.
"And all of my play... has been for one purpose."
As his consciousness faded, the last thing Isshin felt was a presence.
"It has all been for you."
—Ichigo Kurosaki—
The massive, reliable, pitch-black spiritual pressure of his son.
***
"YOU BASTARD!!"
He'd done it. Aizen had cut down his father.
Forcing his broken body to move, Ichigo Kurosaki swung his blade wildly, his Hollow power flaring against the terror of Aizen's astronomical spiritual pressure.
"I see. So this is your spiritual pressure."
"Damn you! DAMN YOU!"
"Magnificent. To think you've refined it this much in only six months."
Yet the gap in their power remained absolute. Ichigo's blade couldn't scratch Aizen's skin, and even the man's white clothes repelled the edge of his sword. After a desperate struggle, Ichigo's strength failed him. His mask shattered, and he fell to his knees before the transcendent Aizen.
Overwhelmed by the flood of information and the weight of Aizen's presence, Ichigo finally managed to choke out a question.
"Is it... true...?"
"What is?"
"Don't give me that! I'm asking if it's true... did you really plan everything? Every fight I've ever been in... was it all you!?"
His furious voice echoed through the wasteland. Aizen responded by raising a finger to his lips in a mocking gesture.
"Keep your voice down."
"What...?"
"Don't shout so much, Ichigo Kurosaki."
Aizen's calm, level voice brushed against Ichigo's eardrums.
"There's no need to be so surprised. Surely you must have questioned it yourself—the artificial, unnatural nature of the path of glory you've walked thus far."
"!!"
The words slipped through Ichigo's mental defenses.
Why was he attacked by a Hollow immediately after meeting Rukia Kuchiki, when he hadn't even known they existed?
Why did he encounter the "named" Hollow that killed his mother just as he was getting used to his powers?
Why did a Menos Grande—which rarely hunts in the World of the Living—appear just because of a bit of Quincy bait?
Why was the person sent to arrest Rukia someone who was both connected to her and the perfect enemy to force Ichigo to grow?
Why, in the Soul Society, did he encounter Ikkaku Madarame, Renji Abarai, Kenpachi Zaraki, and Byakuya Kuchiki in a perfectly escalating order, meeting each one just as his strength had risen to match theirs?
Why did Ulquiorra spare him in the World of the Living? Why was Grimmjow pulled back just before killing him? Every victory and defeat in Hueco Mundo...
"Look at it from a different perspective. If you faced an enemy who attained Shikai and Bankai in less than two weeks—a feat that takes us Soul Reapers centuries—would you underestimate them? Would you spare such a mass of potential when you could kill them with zero effort? Would you deliberately stop a fight you were guaranteed to win? Do you truly believe there was no intent behind such irrationality?"
"That's..."
"If you have the intelligence to ask the question, you already know the answer. It should be easy to convince yourself."
Ichigo slumped forward. There was no escape; Aizen's logic was systematically dismantling his sanity. Every step he had taken as a Soul Reaper had been on a path paved by this man.
"What is this...?"
For six years, he had wanted the power to protect his family. He had been proud to receive that power from Rukia and to have saved her after she was branded a criminal for his sake.
It was all a setup. He was nothing but a clown.
Ichigo looked down, his voice barely a whisper. "Since when?"
"You said I was a 'hero.' You said I had a 'destiny.'"
"..."
"Why!? When! Where! How the hell do you know that!?"
It didn't make sense. There was no way Aizen could know about that. The only two people who had ever spoken to Ichigo about that were...
"Since the beginning."
Ichigo went cold. "What?"
"You're having trouble following, I see. Let me be clear—"
The Demon King blinked slowly and opened his arms. He spoke the same horrific words Ichigo had heard once before.
"—I knew your destiny since before you were even born."
"No way..."
There was no other way to describe the look on his face. Ichigo asked again, hoping he had misheard.
"Since... before I was born?"
What did that mean? How was that possible? But the question was just a desperate attempt to protect his own sanity.
—I've known all about you since long before you were even born.
Gin Ichimaru's cryptic words finally took a concrete, terrifying shape in Ichigo's mind. Aizen continued, ignoring Ichigo's turmoil.
"There was one slight inaccuracy in what I told your father about the Hogyoku's true power. He perceived it as an all-powerful tool, but in truth, the Hogyoku can only manifest a desire if the individual already possesses the power to achieve it. To be precise, the Hogyoku is a 'guidepost' that fulfills its owner's wishes."
And then, the Great Evil reached out for Ichigo's very identity.
"We knew you would be born long before you were even a spark of life in Masaki Kurosaki's womb. Because we wished for it. We asked the Hogyoku for a child born of two elite races—a child who would be a truly special existence."
"!!?"
Ichigo's head snapped up. Even in his confusion, he understood the absolute despair of those words. This wasn't just about his life; it was a disgusting revelation that robbed him of his very agency as a living being.
It was a lie. It had to be.
But Aizen's exposure of Ichigo's cursed origins continued.
"An existence granted a unique talent that transcends all boundaries. You were born to be the ultimate subject of my research... and to be the final barrier on my path to the heavens."
"—It's you, Ichigo Kurosaki."
"No... way..."
Ichigo collapsed onto the scorched earth, unable to hold back the nausea rising in his throat. Aizen looked down at him.
"You don't accept it?" He wore that same chilling smile. "Did you really think your birth, your parents' meeting, the love they shared... did you think it was all 'divine guidance'?"
He continued with merciless words. "Do you truly believe that every miracle and coincidence in this world is not the result of the hand of 'He who stands in the heavens'?"
Aizen looked at the trembling Ichigo with the pity one might show a foolish child.
"Truly strange. That a miracle like you—a mere human who has attained the power to decide the fate of the world—would doubt your own necessity."
That was the final blow to Ichigo's sanity.
"Ah... h..."
He vomited from the sheer weight of the despair. He was crushed by a truth he couldn't change.
Is this my destiny? Is this why I was born?
Ichigo lay there, his mind shattered. The words of those who knew his secret flashed through his mind.
What his inner Hollow had said before vanishing during the visceral training. What Old Man Zangetsu had said after Ichigo grabbed the red-and-black spiritual thread during Urahara's trial.
And...
—Once you've become a man.
The mystery was revealed.
The puzzle was complete.
But one piece was still missing.
"Ah..."
Ichigo turned slowly. He saw his father lying on the ground. He looked past the bloodied Captains and the defeated Visoreds.
Finally, his eyes landed on the girl being tended to by Unohana.
Momo Hinamori.
"What is it? Where are you looking?" Aizen's low voice asked. There was a hint of warning in his cold tone, but Ichigo was too far gone to notice.
Did she know? Did she know about this?
A tiny spark—something even smaller than hope—flickered in Ichigo's broken mind. He reached for a memory, looking for salvation.
Did she know he was born with Soul Reaper and Hollow powers? Did she know that power was created by Aizen's conspiracy?
"No..."
He searched his memories, but he couldn't find the salvation he craved.
Is that why? Is that it?
The reason she helped me awaken and control my powers... it wasn't for me.
In truth, it was—
"Don't disappoint me, Ichigo Kurosaki."
Aizen's spiritual pressure flared. Ichigo didn't even have the strength to brace himself, but his instincts forced him to look at the Demon King.
For the first time, Aizen looked at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated disappointment. He asked a final, cryptic question.
"Why do you hear 'Heaven'... and look at the 'Hollow Shell' groveling on the 'Earth'?"
Ichigo felt a spiritual pressure so cold it began to rot his soul. For a few seconds, he didn't even understand what had been said. His mind couldn't find the reason for the transcendent being's anger.
Heaven? Earth? Hollow shell?
By some miracle, his confusion saved him from Aizen's "interest."
"It seems you truly feel nothing," Aizen said, his purple eyes filled with cold indifference. "Let's go, Gin. Open the Senkaimon."
"Yes, Captain Aizen."
"I never would have imagined. A blade I spent twenty years tempering... to end as such a dull piece of scrap."
Sosuke Aizen let out a sigh and turned away. He had Gin open the gateway to the Soul Society and began his march into the light.
"I'll leave the path open, Ichigo Kurosaki. We shall see in the real Karakura Town—now a mere pile of rubble—if you still have any value left to consume."
With those final words, he vanished along with his astronomical spiritual pressure.
In the empty town, the "Inevitable Hero" was left alone. He looked like nothing more than a helpless, broken child.
***
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