Chapter 177: The Upside Down World
Ignorance and fear swallowed them whole, dragging them into the muddy current of fate, where even the act of keeping your footing became a luxury.
Kisuke could not take his eyes off the compass.
The tiny flame dancing above it was small, almost fragile, yet it carried a weight that made his throat tighten. Words refused to form. Thoughts refused to settle. All that remained was a strange sense of mission, a painful dissonance in his mind, and an urge so strong it bordered on obsession, pushing him to test the chakra aggregate again and again.
It was different from spirit particles. Different from the rigid, petrified world he had forced himself to understand and accept.
Something unprecedented pressed against his mind, prying at the seams of his reasoning until even his own thoughts felt unfamiliar.
It was hard to describe. How could anyone properly explain what it felt like to witness something completely new, something that aligned too perfectly with ideas you had buried for years?
Kisuke had once believed that no matter what trick Aizen used, he would not be shaken.
Now, staring at that burning compass, he wavered.
How could this happen?
Why would this happen?
It felt like the laws of nature had been reversed.
No matter how you twisted spirit particles, the world should still obey the Soul King's cycle. Hollows, Quincy, Shinigami, all of them were just components moving through a system. Nothing should exist outside it.
And yet here it was.
Kisuke stared until his eyes began to sting, probing for any trace that would let him classify it as part of the spirit particle system. He kept thinking, kept observing, kept trying to force an explanation into place.
But no matter how many times he tested it, he found nothing.
No spirit particles clung to it.
No familiar resonance.
Nothing.
At some point, Yoruichi had left, but Kisuke did not even notice. He simply held the compass, turned it over, adjusted it, watched the flame rise and fall, and tried to lie to himself using theories he trusted.
Maybe it was a specialized spirit particle transformation.
Maybe it was a tool in a different form.
Maybe it was something he had not seen yet, but still belonged to the same rules.
He could not fool himself.
The compass was absorbing spirit particles and converting them into a power that had never existed in this world.
"So what's the big deal?" Isshin blurted, voice full of frustration. "Why do you two look like you're attending a funeral? Try being considerate of someone like me who doesn't speak your technology language. I've been staring at it forever. It's just a conversion device. What's so strange about it?"
Kisuke's voice answered, light and distant, as if it did not entirely belong to him.
"Captain Isshin, it's difficult to put into words what this means."
He was kneeling by the table, watching the flame climb, his tone carrying something contradictory, almost ironic, as though he were mocking himself even while confirming reality.
Sometimes you repeat things not to make someone understand, but to reduce the shock to a level you can survive.
His legs trembled. Sweat soaked his skin. His gaze stayed locked on the near perfect conversion.
Then Kisuke spoke again, lower, as if confessing.
"Simply put, this is more significant than Shinigami themselves. It's the kind of energy the Soul King could only dream of, an existence that allows one to step outside the bindings of this world. If Aizen is correct, then this can help us escape what was always waiting for us."
Isshin frowned. "Escape what? Wasn't it normal to protect the Soul King and keep peace across the three realms?"
"That's exactly the problem," Kisuke said, and for the first time his voice trembled. "We took killing and cleanup for granted, so naturally we convinced ourselves it was meaningless."
His eyes did not leave the flame.
"Because we told ourselves we had no choice."
He exhaled, slow and uneven, and the man who was often smiling, often playful, suddenly looked like someone drowning.
"If I could choose, I never wanted to become like this. I never wanted to rely on schemes. I never wanted to become cold."
Yoruichi had always called him a child who smiled while secretly doing bad things. But Kisuke had always been kind at his core.
He did not like fighting. He wanted to invent quietly, to build solutions, to create answers.
And he knew, deep down, that many of the rules of Soul Society were wrong. He knew killing souls in Rukongai was wrong. He knew the paths that led to creating the Hogyoku were wrong.
The blood on his hands was no less than Mayuri's.
No less than Aizen's.
As captain of the Twelfth Division, as the first director of the Technology Development Bureau, he had handled too many cases, signed off on too many measures, watched too many decisions get justified by the word balance.
When balance broke, killing became necessary.
When balance returned, surveillance continued.
Sometimes it was killing gods.
Sometimes it was killing people.
In the past, they had wiped out the Quincy to stabilize the cycle, and there was no gentle way to dress that up. Every Shinigami carried blood debt with the Quincy. That was not exaggeration, it was fact.
Kisuke was skilled at surviving within that reality.
But he hated it.
Who wouldn't want a solution that pleased everyone?
Who wouldn't want a better world?
Who wouldn't want a cleaner answer?
Even Mayuri, in his own warped way, believed Soul Society should become better.
Aside from Aizen, who in loneliness tried to break the boundary between Shinigami and Hollows and tear everything down, everyone else was simply chasing a better life. No one was born more noble than another, or more despicable.
They were all struggling toward something better.
And now, the answer had been placed on the table with terrifying simplicity.
Chakra.
If they could master it, they could pry open a crack in the endless shackles of the Soul King's rule.
Kisuke had once believed the most shocking sight would only earn him a smile.
Now his eyes were wide, almost bulging, and even after ten full minutes, he still did not look away.
"The conversion rate is extremely high," he muttered, voice speeding up as his mind ran ahead of his emotions. "Chakra can transform into other forms, and there are advanced patterns beyond that. If that's true, then chakra must carry spatial properties. It should be able to establish living space inside the void. If all of this is real, then it could create another world, a space inside the boundary, untouched by anyone."
"To be precise," Aizen said mildly, still sipping tea, "it will still be subject to interference."
He wore a black suit and black shirt, his posture relaxed, his smile gentle, as though they were discussing weather.
"Chakra is sensitive to signal sources. Lower level signals must obey higher level ones. That can be considered a flaw."
"If it can be refined and transformed," Kisuke replied immediately, eyes still fixed on the flame, "then it isn't a flaw. Danger only exists when energy is locked and cannot change. This is the first time I've seen transformation like this."
Isshin did not understand. He never understood. But watching Kisuke, he could tell one thing.
If Kisuke looked like this, then chakra was either absurdly powerful, or it was something beyond Isshin's ability to even imagine.
Aizen blew gently over his tea and spoke as casually as if he were requesting a favor at a shop.
"Now that I have shown sincerity, Kisuke, it's time for you to show yours."
Kisuke's breath caught. He finally forced his eyes away from the compass, as if tearing them free hurt.
"I don't know," he admitted, voice unsteady. "Chakra is tempting. But there are people who matter more to me. I can't make this decision quickly."
"Of course," Aizen said calmly. "I understand. I am Sosuke Aizen. It's normal for you to doubt me."
"It's not just that," Kisuke said, and his gaze flickered back toward the compass.
Something about it felt too simple, too convenient.
And it left an unease that reached down into the soul.
Kisuke had a premonition that if he agreed too easily, something terrible would be waiting on the other side.
But he was a researcher. Giving up was not in his nature.
He was still struggling with that contradiction when the room shifted.
"Hadō Number Four, Byakurai."
A deep male voice with a Kansai accent cut through the air, and a beam of white lightning slammed toward Aizen's head.
Aizen did not even glance at it.
The lightning struck, then erupted into an even harsher flare, multiplying into dazzling lines that snapped into place around him.
"The sixty first of the bondage paths, Rikujōkōrō."
"The ninety ninth of the Binding Path, Bankai prohibition and sealing."
"Special orbit, space stripping."
Three different streams of spiritual light struck from three directions.
Before Kisuke could react, Aizen was bound in an instant, wrapped in layers of bandages and radiance. A semi transparent circular frame closed around his head.
Then the frame dropped.
It hit the tatami, bounced twice, and rolled.
A black cat darted in through the open space, fast as a shadow. Seeing Kisuke's stunned, sinking expression, she spoke obediently, voice low.
"I'm sorry, Kisuke. No matter what kind of Aizen he is, I don't think he's a good person. So I brought the victim here."
Kisuke said nothing.
Outside the shop, Tessai's voice rumbled, serious and sharp.
"Lord Kisuke, you cannot overthink someone like Sosuke Aizen. How many times has he deceived us? Even if he has repented, even if he's not the Aizen we knew, he should still pay a price."
Another voice followed, strange in tone, growing louder as it approached.
"Yes. How could you believe him, Kisuke? This isn't like you."
A figure dropped down from above, landing before the sliding door as if gravity was merely a suggestion. Almost at the same time, several black shadows appeared around the shop, each forming barriers, each holding Kidō ready.
They were people Aizen had framed, people who carried hatred deep enough to become instinct.
They stared into the shop with ice in their eyes.
Only Kisuke shook his head, refusing, even now.
"No. That's not it."
The man in a green kimono stared at the bound, silently dismembered body inside the shop.
There was no blood.
And on his face, disappointment deepened, as if he were watching someone make the most foolish mistake imaginable with full confidence.
Kisuke's expression twisted as he looked at the short haired blond man stepping through the doorway.
"Has no one noticed?"
"Huh?" the blond man said, eyebrows lifting. "What did you find? We've already taken control of the puppet outside. This is the last one. Don't tell me you're saying he's actually so strong that we forgot what his spiritual pressure feels like. That's not funny."
"It's not that," Kisuke said quietly. "It's just, you haven't noticed the problem."
He pointed to the other side of the street.
Everyone turned.
And there, strolling like he was returning from a casual errand, was Sosuke Aizen.
Almost identical to the one inside the shop.
He carried a bag filled with beer and snacks. He raised his hand and waved, friendly as sunshine.
Then his eyes landed on the blond man inside the shop, and his smile widened, peaceful and bright.
"Good afternoon, Captain Hirako Shinji. I'm glad to see you safe. How are the others? They look energetic. Still, I find myself missing the past."
Shinji's teeth clenched. "As good as killing your mother, Aizen."
"As aggressive as ever," Aizen said lightly. "Should we not let hatred cloud progress? I did not come to destroy this world. On the contrary, I bring hope and salvation."
He looked at the shadows surrounding the shop, all of them brimming with murder.
"It seems Ms. Yoruichi has hidden many things from you. But please rest assured. I am not blinded by hatred, nor by a brief attack. I admire your courage and resolve. Therefore, I will not harm you."
The seal had been meaningless.
The dismembered body was inside.
And the real Aizen stood outside, smiling.
No one understood how, but the bag he had placed on the ground shifted in an instant, and appeared beside Kisuke inside the shop as if space itself had obeyed a command.
Faces stiffened.
Aizen waved again, as if embarrassed by the awkwardness.
"Today doesn't seem like a good day for conversation. I'll meet you again at a more suitable time, Kisuke. I hope by then you'll have your answer."
His smile became almost gentle.
"I look forward to hearing it."
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