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The Human World.
On the outskirts of Karakura Town, inside the Visored hideout.
"Man… it's been almost a hundred years, and Old Man Yamamoto's pressure is still completely maxed out!"
Hirako Shinji stared in awe, his face full of lingering excitement, clearly not yet recovered from witnessing Ryūjin Jakka's release.
It was insane.
Those world-ending pillars of fire, any single one of them could severely injure a captain-class Shinigami. And that was just Ryūjin Jakka's most basic technique.
Every swing of the blade unleashed a flame slash capable of burning everything to nothing.
Strongest fire-type Zanpakutō. The most destructive Zanpakutō currently in Soul Society.
The reputation was well deserved.
"If you ask me, Kyōraku and Ukitake totally had it coming," Kensei Muguruma said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Unless your brain's completely fried, who in their right mind goes and pisses off that cranky old man?"
Just watching the video had made him sweat more than three straight days of nonstop training.
"By the way…"
Love Aikawa shifted his gaze away from the transparent screen and looked out the window toward Karakura Town, his expression heavy.
"The most anticipated part is over. Isn't it about time we went to save people?"
"Save them?"Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi frowned. "Back in the day, I wouldn't have lifted a finger to help those bastards from the Gotei Thirteen."
"But now… maybe I'd consider it."
He brushed his long, golden wavy hair aside, a complicated look flashing through his eyes.
Ever since learning that he would eventually return to the Gotei Thirteen in the future, he had gradually let go of his old resentment, forcing himself to accept those who would become his future comrades.
And he wasn't the only one.
Watching everyone charge forward without hesitation, throwing their lives on the line together against the Miracle had stirred something in the Visored.
After all—
Back then, the reason they had defected…
In the end, all of this traced back to Aizen, the mastermind lurking behind the scenes.
Since it wasn't a blood feud carved into their bones, then maybe, just maybe, they could put aside their grudges for now and focus on saving people first.
At least, that was how things stood at the moment.
That was exactly what the Visored were thinking.
Stretching lazily and digging a finger into his ear, Hirako Shinji straightened his messy hair. Once he was satisfied, he pulled his cap down over his head again and flashed a wide, excited grin.
"Alright, enough talk…"
"So, who's coming with me to save some people? Speak up now!"
"I'm in!"
"Count me in!"
"I'll go too!"
"Same here!"
…
Aside from Sarugaki Hiyori, who stubbornly refused, everyone else answered immediately. One by one, they cracked their knuckles, fully ready to throw down with the Arrancar at a moment's notice.
"Good."
"Then we split up! Hachi, Kensei, you're with me to Karakura Town proper. The rest of you head to the high school and back them up!"
Hand moving to his Zanpakutō, Shinji took off first. The others followed right behind him, and in the blink of an eye, all their figures vanished from the abandoned warehouse.
Elsewhere.
Karakura Town First High School.
"Dad!!!"
Ichigo screamed in despair.
Reflected in his pitch-black eyes was the sight of Kurosaki Isshin, his abdomen pierced clean through by Grimmjow's arm blade, collapsing not far away.
"Ichigo… run! Get out of here, now!" Isshin roared, forcing the words out through searing pain as blood poured from the wound.
"Tch… run?" Grimmjow sneered. "Relax. You three are up next."
With a flick of his arm, he casually flung Isshin aside like a piece of trash and turned back toward Ichigo, who stood frozen in shock.
Jagged fangs crossed in a cruel grin, like the maw of a beast ready to devour its prey.
Their death sentence had been declared.
"It's over…"
"Why is he doing this to us? Just because of that ranking video? We didn't do anything wrong…" Inoue Orihime broke down in tears. Gentle and timid by nature, she had never witnessed such brutality before.
"Orihime, run!" Chad stepped forward, forcing courage into his voice. "I'll hold him off!"
"Trying to play the hero?" Grimmjow snarled. "Pathetic. I don't buy that crap!"
With a feral roar, he lunged forward, arm blade aimed straight at Chad's abdomen.
And then—
At the very last second, something completely unexpected happened.
"Carriage of thunder, spinning wheel of light, divide into six—"
"Bakudō Number Sixty-One: Rikujōkōrō!"
…
Without any warning, the chant echoed through the air.
Six blazing beams of light materialized around Grimmjow, forming an inescapable prison that locked his body in place mid-charge.
"Huh?"
"This is… Shinigami Kidō?!"
Grimmjow looked down in shock and tried to move.
Nothing.
His body refused to respond. He couldn't break free at all.
Fury erupted in his voice.
"Who the hell did that?! Sneaking around like a rat! Get out here!"
"Oh ho ho…"
"Grimmjow, if I remember correctly, we've technically fought on the same side before. Is that really how you treat a future 'ally'?"
At some point, a green-clad figure had appeared beside Ichigo.
Wooden sandals. A folding fan. A relaxed posture.
Urahara Kisuke had arrived.
He smiled with playful amusement, clearly unconcerned by the Panther King's murderous glare.
"You're… Urahara Kisuke!!!"
Ichigo, Chad, and Orihime all widened their eyes.
They recognized him instantly. He was one of the people highlighted right at the start of the ranking.
To them, he looked like a miracle descending from the heavens.
"Urahara, please! Save us!" Ichigo blurted out desperately. "My dad's going to die!"
"Heh, don't panic, Ichigo."
Urahara glanced casually at Isshin, who lay half-conscious in a pool of blood, then grinned with unmistakable mischief.
"Isshin's a tough one. This much won't kill him. Since the chance is rare, why not let him lie there a bit longer?"
"…!"
Ichigo's eyebrow twitched.
What the hell?!
Isshin? Why was he calling his dad by name like that?
And tough or not, he's still human! He's losing way too much blood!
You jerk, stop messing around and save him already!
Ignoring Ichigo's silent fury, Urahara turned his attention back to Grimmjow.
"Honestly, Grimmjow…"
"If you Arrancar hadn't started stirring up trouble, I'd be sitting comfortably in my shop right now, enjoying the rest of the old man's ranking video."
"What a shame."
Despite the casual tone, Urahara's hand slowly drew his Zanpakutō.
An immense surge of spiritual pressure exploded outward.
He raised his blade and slashed.
Benihime burst free.
"Sing, Benihime!"
A sharp cry rang out, like a bird's call.
In Grimmjow's eyes, a blood-red slash expanded in an instant.
At the same time.
As fierce battles erupted in the human world, the suspended footage inside the translucent screen resumed, switching to a completely different scene.
Under a clear blue sky, rows of skyscrapers lay in ruins. After prolonged combat, the city had been reduced to devastation, destruction stretching as far as the eye could see.
And then came the furious roar of the Captain-Commander.
"As long as I stand here…"
"You three will not lay a finger on this battlefield!"
The view shifted.
The first thing the audience saw was the Captain-Commander swinging Ryūjin Jakka once more, flames roaring around the blade.
Inside the Fifth Division's underground chamber, Ichimaru Gin froze when he heard those words.
"…Holy crap."
"Captain Aizen, when he says 'you three'…"
"He doesn't mean us, does he?"
"..."
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