Tōsen Kaname's appearance made the Shinigami present doubt their own eyes.
Even Unohana Retsu and Kurosaki Ichigo—locked in battle at a distance—showed clear shock in their expressions.
"How unexpected…"
Unohana exhaled softly. For once, a faint trace of concern surfaced on her usually gentle face.
"Captain Unohana… that stance of yours…"
Gin narrowed his eyes, a thin blue glint flickering within them—like a cunning fox watching its prey.
"That makes things rather troublesome for me."
The instant his words fell, the blade of his Zanpakutō shot forward, extending several times its original length. It cleaved through the rolling clouds overhead, as if attempting to split the sky itself.
Unohana's gaze lowered slightly. A sharp glimmer, like the pressure of a drawn blade, flashed within her eyes.
The long braid that had hung behind her neck came loose, her black hair cascading down.
Darkness spread outward from her presence, staining the sky like storm clouds pressing down from above.
Suddenly—
A blood-red spiritual pressure flooded the heavens.
"My, my…"
Gin's tone grew more cautious. His ever-narrowed eyes opened just a fraction.
"How terrifying."
"So that reputation of the first Kenpachi… wasn't just for show."
Unohana's smile remained gentle, yet it carried a chill that pierced to the bone.
"Compose yourself and focus on the battle ahead."
"That is the proper respect one shows to combat."
The moment her voice faded, her figure vanished from the sky.
An overwhelming wave of sword pressure descended with her.
---
On the other side, Ichigo and Szayelaporro Granz exchanged no pleasantries.
Though Szayelaporro would have preferred to elaborate on his grand scientific philosophy—
His opponent was a hot-headed boy who had no intention of listening.
The instant Ichigo entered combat, a ferocious red-and-white Hollow mask materialized over his face.
"Getsuga Tenshō!"
His voice echoed across the sky, tinged with madness.
A black-and-crimson crescent of spiritual pressure erupted from Zangetsu, tearing forward toward Szayelaporro.
"How crude."
Szayelaporro sighed in disappointment.
"Why is every Shinigami I encounter so impulsive?"
"Would it not be more productive to sit down and discuss the hierarchy of life?"
Facing the incoming Getsuga Tenshō, Szayelaporro showed no urgency.
Instead, he slowly and almost theatrically drew his Zanpakutō, meeting the attack head-on.
It did not look like combat—
It looked like performance.
Ichigo's eyes widened.
The Getsuga Tenshō that had crushed so many foes was split cleanly apart—dismissed with a casual swing.
"How is that possible…?"
His momentum faltered.
Szayelaporro's dark lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"This… is the difference in evolutionary strata."
He spread his arms wide, as though embracing the sky.
Then, like an actor on stage, he placed one hand over his chest and bowed.
"Allow me to introduce myself once more."
"Zero Espada—Szayelaporro Granz."
As he spoke, the number 0 slowly emerged upon his forehead.
Fear tightened around Ichigo's heart.
Though he had not fought the Espada extensively, he knew enough.
They were ranked from No. 1 to No. 10 based on strength.
If this was No. 0…
The meaning was obvious.
Ichigo's grip tightened around Zangetsu, veins bulging along his hands.
"Let us resume our battle, Ichigo-san."
Though Szayelaporro used an honorific, the disdain in his eyes was unmistakable.
At his core, he was still the same Szayelaporro—
Only now, with greater power, his true nature was even more exposed.
"Drink—Fornicarás!"
With that, he swallowed his Zanpakutō whole.
His spiritual pressure surged violently. His body swelled grotesquely.
When it reached its peak—
He exploded.
Black viscous fluid splattered outward in all directions.
A new form emerged.
Four writhing wings unfurled from his back. Countless tentacles intertwined to form legs and the flowing tails of a white uniform. Multicolored markings streaked the corners of his eyes.
His voice overlapped in an eerie echo.
"Doll Reproduction."
---
"Honestly…"
Shimo shook his head, a trace of disgust crossing his face.
"I don't like this 'gift' at all."
Tōsen's expression stiffened slightly at the blunt rejection. The oppressive atmosphere faltered for a moment.
Aizen, however, remained unchanged.
"Your preferences are irrelevant, Shimo-kun."
"What matters is the symbolism of this gift."
Shimo examined Tōsen carefully.
Externally, he looked much the same as he had in Soul Society.
The only true difference lay in his eyes—
Black. Deep. Unfathomable.
"For someone who has regained sight… you don't seem particularly elated."
Shimo noted calmly.
Tōsen lifted his chin. His purple braid fluttered behind him.
"It seems I must reintroduce myself… so that you may remember properly."
His lips parted, revealing sharp, densely packed teeth.
"You should find this form familiar, Shimo-kun."
"Allow me to formally introduce myself."
"My name is—"
"Tōsen Mantikor."
-------------------------------///
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