Time bled away, each minute dragging heavier than the last. Only ten remained before Sōkyoku's release.
Rukia stood chained at the center of the white execution platform, her slender frame bound by spirit-forged restraints. Before her loomed the sealed Sōkyoku spear, its dormant form humming faintly with restrained power.
"Brother… I'm sorry…"
She raised her eyes only once toward Shiraha, standing in silence not far away, then quickly lowered her head, afraid. She had tried not to look at him at all, but the thought of never seeing him again forced her gaze.
Shiraha's lips curved faintly. "This farce is finally reaching its end," he murmured. Observation Haki spread outward, mapping the battles raging below Sōkyoku Hill. Zaraki Kenpachi's wild reiatsu clashed violently with Tōsen Kaname and Komamura Sajin, their struggle sending tremors across Seireitei. Yamamoto Genryūsai, presiding over the execution, had sensed it too. Yet the Head-Captain did not intervene. For him, the punishment came first.
A new presence appeared at the edge of the platform. The Sixth Division's captain, Byakuya Kuchiki, strode forward alone.
"Ah, Captain Kuchiki," Kyōraku drawled with a smile, tilting his hat. "Why come by yourself? Where's your lieutenant?"
Byakuya offered no answer, his face carved in ice. He took his place beside Shiraha without sparing Rukia so much as a glance.
"Brother Byakuya… I've failed you." Rukia lifted her gaze, only to flinch at his cold eyes. Trembling, she lowered her head again, her voice breaking into a whisper.
No more arrivals came. The circle was complete. The moment of execution had arrived.
Yamamoto's eyes narrowed as he leaned on his staff. "Though not all captains are present, the appointed time has come. Release Sōkyoku."
At his command, a detachment of First Division reapers stepped forward. They encircled the spear, voices rising in unison, chanting the ancient incantation that awakened its seal.
The air grew heavy. Oppressive silence smothered the hill, every captain and lieutenant transfixed by the ritual.
"Rukia Kuchiki," Yamamoto intoned, his voice as immovable as stone, "do you have any last words?"
Her lips trembled. "Yes. Only one." She closed her eyes. "I know my sins cannot be forgiven. But those who came from the living world—they are innocent. Please… when I am gone, release them from Soul Society."
Murmurs stirred at her words. To plead for the safety of the intruders who had stormed Seireitei seemed unthinkable.
Yet Yamamoto considered her gravely. "Very well. Once the execution is complete, the old man will see them returned unharmed."
"Thank you…" Rukia's eyes lifted, shining with sorrow as she smiled faintly.
Kotetsu Isane whispered to Unohana, voice thick with pity. "It's cruel. They won't truly be spared."
Unohana's calm eyes softened. "It isn't cruelty, Yuyin. It is mercy. At least this way, she faces her end without despair." Then she glanced briefly at Shiraha, her tone deepening. "Besides… outcomes may not unfold as you expect."
Confusion flickered across Isane's face, but she held her tongue.
The chanting reached its climax.
"Sōkyoku… Liberation!" Yamamoto's staff struck the ground, his voice carrying across the hill like a decree from the heavens.
The bindings on the Sōkyoku spear unraveled with a crack of spirit pressure. Blue light surged forth in torrents of reiatsu, shaking the air itself.
Rukia gasped as the white floor beneath her split. Pillars of light rose, binding her arms in place. Slowly, inexorably, her body lifted skyward, ascending toward the looming execution pike.
"Thank you… Brother Byakuya… Brother Shiraha…" she whispered, her voice almost lost to the wind.
Nanao stared upward, her lips parting.
"Xiao Xuxu, don't look so stricken," Kyōraku murmured, pressing his hat lower with a lopsided smile. "You'll make even me sad."
"I'm not…" she protested softly, then paused.
"Something unexpected will happen," Kyōraku told her, voice low. "Just keep watching. Isn't that right, Shiraha?"
Her eyes flickered to Shiraha's silent figure. She remembered the secret meeting the night before and pressed her lips together, choosing silence.
Omaeda Marechiyo's jaw hung open. "This… this is the liberation of Sōkyoku?"
Heat rolled outward in waves, searing the air. The sealed spear was engulfed in crimson fire, its form twisting as molten energy poured from its core.
"The form—it's changing," Soi Fon breathed, shock breaking her calm mask.
Kyōraku tilted his head back, peering beneath the brim of his hat. "Now that's terrifying."
Shiraha's eyes sharpened as he read the transformation through Observation Haki, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
With a deafening roar, the spear burst apart in a torrent of flames. From its molten heart emerged an immense golden phoenix, wings spanning the sky, its body forged entirely of fire. The creature's cry split the heavens, unleashing an overwhelming pressure that pressed down on all who stood below.
Searing embers scattered in every direction, filling the air with burning light. Even seasoned captains felt their throats tighten as they beheld the being before them.
This was the true form of Sōkyoku—King of Destruction, the executioner of a thousand blades.
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