In the darkness, countless figures moved swiftly. Within moments, the summoning order issued from the Captain's Office spread across all divisions through the Support Team. Every captain, lieutenant, and officer receiving the order immediately set out toward the designated point.
Before long, multiple figures appeared one after another on Sōkyoku Hill. The first to arrive were Sui-Feng and Ōmaeda of the Second Division, followed closely by Unohana Retsu and Kotetsu Isane of the Fourth. Soon after came Byakuya Kuchiki and Abarai Renji from the Sixth, then Komamura Sajin, Hitsugaya Tōshirō, and others. What drew attention, however, was that alongside the captains and lieutenants, several notable seated officers also stood among the ranks Kuchiki Rukia, Madarame Ikkaku, and Ayasegawa Yumichika.
It was clear that the order from the Head Captain was not limited to the command officers alone but extended to those who had distinguished themselves during the recent war.
Now, nearly every elite of the Gotei 13 was gathered here except, of course, for Zaraki Kenpachi and Kusajishi Yachiru of the Eleventh Division. No one even needed to ask. Those two must have gotten lost again.
The hill was packed with people, the air filled with quiet unease. The war had only just ended, and yet, deep into the night, the Head Captain had summoned everyone here of all places, to Sōkyoku Hill. It was impossible not to feel that something was wrong.
But the Captain-Commander had not yet appeared, and so, everyone could only wait in silence.
Among the gathered, Kuchiki Rukia stood quietly, her gaze wandering across the familiar landscape. Countless memories rose within her heart. It was here, on this very hill, that her fate had once been rewritten where the boy descended from the sky like a miracle and saved her life.
Thinking of that boy, her expression softened. Since returning from the world of the living, she had not seen him again. She knew he lay in the Fourth Division's care, still unconscious, but with her duties piled high after the war especially within the Thirteenth Division, which oversaw operations linked to the human world.she had found no time to visit.
Now, standing here beneath the misted moonlight, she searched the crowd, only to find no sign of him. The faint sadness that crossed her eyes told the rest. The rumors were true. He had not woken.
Still, Rukia shook her head and composed herself. "When this meeting ends," she thought quietly, "I'll go see him."
Like the others, she held faith that a soul as unyielding as his would never remain asleep for long. It was only a matter of time.
Minutes passed. The night air grew cooler, and a thin veil of mist crept over the hill, lending the place an almost poetic stillness. Yet none of the gathered captains or lieutenants paid any attention to the beauty of it. They were waiting for one man.
And still, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni did not appear.
Instead, a strange sound cut through the fog slow, heavy footsteps echoing across the stone.
"...Da... da... da..."
A tall, thin figure staggered out of the mist. Everyone turned instantly. Before he could take more than a few steps, the man collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.
"Sasakibe Fukutaichō!"
Komamura Sajin's eyes widened as he rushed forward, others following close behind. The fallen figure covered in blood and bruises was unmistakably the Vice-Captain of the First Division, Chōjirō Sasakibe.
"What happened?!" Komamura's low roar broke the stillness. "Who did this to you?!"
The captains surrounded him, faces tense with disbelief. The war had only just ended could it be another attack?
Sasakibe's breath was shallow, his voice broken. "Th... the Head Captain..."
His lips trembled as his words faded into the cold air. "The Head Captain... is missing..."
Then, he lost consciousness.
The words struck like lightning.
For a moment, no one moved. The disbelief on every face was absolute. Yamamoto Genryūsai... missing? Impossible.
The man who had stood at the summit of Soul Society for a thousand years the embodiment of power and order, the unshakable pillar of the Shinigami. For such an existence to simply vanish no one could comprehend it.
But the evidence lay right before them. The Vice-Captain of the First Division was gravely wounded. The Head Captain's whereabouts were unknown. This was no minor disturbance this was a catastrophe.
Even the war Aizen had begun had not provoked such collective dread. The Head Captain's disappearance meant one thing the backbone of the entire Gotei 13 had been torn away.
And without that backbone, the structure itself would collapse.
The tension deepened. The mist around them thickened. Then another sound emerged.
"Boom... boom... boom..."
Heavy, deliberate footsteps. Each one echoed with immense weight, shaking the air.
From within the fog, a colossal shadow appeared an enormous figure, red-skinned and towering like an ancient warrior out of legend, clad in antique armor that gleamed faintly under the moonlight. The sheer presence of the being froze everyone in place.
That was no human.
Komamura's brows furrowed. The aura it felt strangely familiar.
Before anyone could speak, a deep voice rolled from within the mist. "You're wondering... who did it?"
Beside the red-skinned giant stepped another man tall, lean, wearing white fur. His expression was calm, almost bored, as he swept his gaze over the assembled captains.
The atmosphere tightened instantly. The Gotei 13 raised their hands toward their Zanpakutōs, prepared to strike.
The white-furred man's voice carried faint amusement. "Of course," he said softly, his tone laced with arrogance and disdain. "We did."