Sōkyoku Hill.
"Kuchiki Rukia… do you have any last words?" – Yamamoto asked, half-opening his eye as he stared at Rukia, who stood before him, surrounded by members of the 2nd Division.
At his question, every gaze turned toward Rukia. Many were curious about what her final request might be before death—or if she would beg for mercy.
"No…" – she muttered softly, yet clearly – "I have nothing to say."
Her words silenced the hill. Her calmness was not the calm of resignation, nor acceptance of death. Rather, it was the calm of someone who never believed she would die here. Her eyes moved quietly across the gathering, as if searching for someone.
"You have no words?" – Yamamoto repeated, this time with less severity, almost with genuine curiosity.
But Rukia did not answer immediately.
Her violet eyes simply followed the sky in silence, as though waiting for something—or someone.
Finally, after a long stillness, she whispered:
"I have faith… that he won't let this happen."
Yamamoto's brows furrowed slightly.
"Who do you mean?"
Rukia gave no answer. Instead, she closed her eyes, the faintest of smiles gracing her lips—as if whispering a name only her heart knew would come.
Irritation flashed across Yamamoto's face. He struck his wooden staff against the ground and commanded:
"Begin the execution."
"Aren't you being a bit too hasty for an old man at the end of his life?" – a cold, quiet voice echoed as a figure appeared behind Yamamoto, walking toward Rukia's side. – "Or is it because you are an old man at the end of your life?"
Time froze for a heartbeat.
The man walked calmly, hands hidden inside the sleeves of his robes, a blindfold covering his eyes. Yet everyone recognized him instantly—silver hair glimmering like moonlight. He was none other than the 3rd Seat of the 4th Division.
"What do you mean by this, 3rd Seat of the 4th Division?" – Suì-Fēng's cold voice rang out, her sharp gaze fixed on Ren, irritation clearly written across her face.
"Don't you understand?" – Ren raised a brow, and without restraint, unleashed his reiatsu.
A crushing weight slammed down over the hill. Members of the 2nd Division around Rukia collapsed to the ground, pinned and trembling, unable to move.
The earth itself quaked under Ren's release.
This wasn't just spiritual pressure… it was pure, terrifying, suffocating. Even the air froze still.
Suì-Fēng, despite her strength as Captain of the 2nd Division, instinctively stepped back, her eyes widening, hand trembling around her Zanpakutō's hilt.
"W-what is this…?!" – one lieutenant gasped, struggling to stand, as panicked breaths and shudders spread among the crowd.
"This isn't… normal reiatsu… it's…" – another shinigami whispered in horror – "as if it belongs to something beyond this world."
Yamamoto, however, showed no fear. His eyes opened fully, focusing sharply on Ren.
"This reiatsu… does not belong to an ordinary soul. Who are you, boy?"
"Kurosaki Ren. But if I said just that, you wouldn't understand, would you?" – Ren smirked, before delivering the words that shook everyone – "But if I told you I am the son of Shiba Isshin… would you understand now?"
Breaths stopped.
The winds on Sōkyoku Hill stilled, the light piercing the clouds sharpened, as if the heavens themselves bowed to the name.
Shiba Isshin.
The name struck like thunder in every mind, leaving Captains and lieutenants alike frozen. Even Yamamoto, who almost never revealed emotion, narrowed his eyes sharply.
"Impossible…" – Ukitake whispered, staring at Ren – "Did he just say… Shiba?"
"But… Shiba Isshin died over ten years ago!" – one lieutenant shouted.
"No… he disappeared, with no body ever found…" – Kyouraku said, unusually serious, his eyes sharp – "And now we see the proof of his disappearance standing before us."
Ren had no intention of hiding his identity. He even planned to reveal the truth to Ichigo once they returned. The chaos of Seireitei was the perfect cover to expose what he already knew from his past life.
"Well, I'm not here for the old man's past," – Ren said carelessly, golden reiatsu still swirling around him – "I'm here for my friend—the savior of my family. And it seems you're trying to execute her without any real justification."
The winds twisted violently around Ren, his reiatsu bending the very order of Soul Society.
"Kuchiki Rukia broke Soul Society's law by giving her powers to a human," – Suì-Fēng said sharply, though her voice lacked conviction. She herself knew Rukia still retained her shinigami powers upon return, and there had been no report of a human wielding them. Yet since the order came from Central 46, no one had dared object.
Ren's blindfolded gaze fell on her, his voice laced with scorn:
"Soul Society's laws? You mean the orders of corpses butchered weeks ago… by Aizen himself."
Gasps rang out from the crowd. Suì-Fēng stiffened, while Ren pressed on, sharper:
"Central 46 never gave this order. They're all dead. The one who did… was Aizen Sōsuke. And all of you believed his lies without question."
"Lies! Aizen-taichō died days ago at the hands of the intruders!" – Kira shouted, rage distorting his handsome face.
Step. Step. Step.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew every eye. A figure advanced toward Ren, and though unexpected, it made sense.
But instead of opposing Ren, the figure walked past and stood beside him—as though in silent support.
"Ren is right," – Ritsu's calm voice spread across the hill – "I examined Aizen's body myself. It was a fake. Soul Society has been under Aizen's illusion for far longer than anyone realizes. I only uncovered it thanks to Ren, who came from outside."
Silence fell once more over Sōkyoku Hill—this time, not from fear, but from shock.
For Ritsu, Captain of the 4th Division, to stand beside Ren gave his words undeniable weight. Yet it was almost impossible to accept that their kind, kind-hearted Captain… had been weaving deceit all along, even faking his own death.
"Is this true?" – Yamamoto's ancient yet sharp voice demanded, his eyes boring into Ritsu. He was nearly convinced, but needed one last confirmation to cast away the final fragment of doubt.
He knew Ritsu well—she had served in the Gotei 13 for over a thousand years, fought beside him countless times. He trusted her words above all others.
Yamamoto inhaled deeply, his voice steady but heavy:
"Ritsu… are you certain of this?"
She raised her hand firmly, meeting his gaze with eyes brimming with truth and resolve:
"Yes, Captain-Commander. I saw the false body myself. I checked every detail. Aizen-taichō was never in it."
A hush spread through the hill. Faces shifted between shock, denial, and dread.
Suì-Fēng lowered her head in silence, struggling with the truth she could no longer deny.
Yamamoto turned slowly toward Ren, speaking with gravity:
"If things are as you say… then the real battle has not yet begun. There is still one hiding in the shadows, playing with the threads of life and death."
He then looked at Rukia, his voice gentler, but decisive:
"Rukia Kuchiki… your execution will be postponed. You will be given a chance to testify before the new Central 46—if we can reassemble one."
The weight on Rukia's shoulders eased, though her eyes remained fixed on Ren, a faint smile playing at her lips.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow, mocking applause echoed across the hill.
All eyes snapped to the top of the execution platform—where Aizen now stood, Ichimaru and Tōsen at his side.
"You've given me a most entertaining show," – Aizen said softly. He had been here all along, hidden by Kyōka Suigetsu's illusion.
Of course, Ren had noticed their presence. But he ignored them, knowing they had no intention of intervening—for now. They simply watched… with interest.
...
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