At the break of dawn, Shiki Mirai arrived at the rendezvous point on the outskirts of Junlin'an, right on time.
The area was already bustling with Shinigami, neatly divided into two clear groups.
On one side stood the 13th Division—significantly larger in number. From seated officers down to regular foot soldiers, almost the entire division had mobilized.
Clearly, the situation in the World of the Living wasn't looking good, requiring a large-scale soul burial and guidance operation.
At the front of the 13th Division stood a composed young man with short black hair—3rd Seat Shiba Kaien.
With no Vice-Captain currently assigned and Captain Ukitake Jūshirō absent due to illness, Kaien was leading the team for this mission.
He was currently conferring with a few seated officers nearby, quietly coordinating team assignments for when they passed through the gate.
Opposite them was the 11th Division.
Though their numbers were fewer, each member radiated an intense, eager energy. Their eyes gleamed with anticipation—it almost looked like they were headed to a festival.
Captain Kuruyashiki Kenpachi hadn't arrived yet. Vice-Captain Ashido stood silently at the front of the formation.
Although Kaien was a 3rd Seat, and well-regarded for both skill and experience, this joint operation included the 11th Division Captain. As per tradition, overall command would fall to Kuruyashiki Kenpachi.
Still, given Kuruyashiki's personality, it was likely that all the detailed logistics and coordination would fall to the ever-reliable Ashido.
Kaien didn't seem to mind, working in full cooperation.
Shiki, attending as a "non-combat observer," stood off to the side—neither with the 13th Division nor beside the 11th. He maintained a tactful distance.
His attention shifted to the center of the clearing.
There wasn't the usual fixed Senkaimon platform.
Instead, a machine of mismatched metal parts and tangled Reishi circuit boards stood in its place. It buzzed faintly, surface flickering with trails of glowing spirit particles.
A petite figure with short blonde hair darted around it, hopping up and down with tools in hand, hammering at various panels while barking orders:
"Hey! You! You wired the Reishi output loop backwards! You want the gate to collapse halfway through, baldy!?"
"And you! Vice-Captain or not, if you screw up basic parameters, you're still getting corrected! You trying to kill someone mid-transfer!?"
"Shut up and follow my lead! All of you—bald idiots!"
Each sharp cry of "baldy" echoed through the crisp morning air.
Shiki's brow twitched slightly with each one.
But he took a deep breath and forced down the urge to comment.
With a practiced motion, he replaced his expression with the aloof composure of a noble—chin high, posture straight, eyes indifferent.
So this version of the Senkaimon had been built and maintained by the 12th Division.
And the fiery blonde girl yelling at everyone? That was none other than the newly promoted 5th Seat of the 12th Division—Sarugaki Hiyori.
She flitted between the machine's many components with practiced ease. Her attitude was foul, but her technique was flawless—each adjustment smooth and precise.
After a few final checks, she smacked a central panel with her palm and shouted, "Done! Start it up!"
Vmmmm!
The strange, tangled machine shuddered. All its Reishi circuits lit up at once, shining with radiant light. Streams of spirit particles rushed through the conduit channels.
The air in front of the machine twisted violently, letting out a deep howl.
Light collapsed inward, forming a slowly rotating black vortex that floated steadily in the air.
"Perfect!" Hiyori crossed her arms proudly and lifted her chin.
"New model Senkaimon! Sustained stability extended to a full hour! Amazing, right? This one's my project!"
But instead of cheers, the surrounding Shinigami just nodded politely and went back to their preparations.
For seasoned operatives who regularly traveled between realms, ten minutes or an hour didn't really change much. Their missions didn't require them to loiter inside the gate.
Sure, an hour sounded nice… but it wasn't exactly life-changing.
Hiyori's confident smile slowly drooped. She clicked her tongue and muttered, barely audible:
"Hmph… bunch of tech-illiterate baldies…"
Just then—
Clap, clap, clap!
A crisp, rhythmic applause rang out, unusually distinct in the morning quiet.
Everyone turned to look.
Shiki Mirai stood there, smiling with admiration, hands coming together with deliberate poise.
He stepped forward to face the machine and Hiyori, giving her a slight, courteous nod.
"An impressive upgrade."
His words caught everyone's attention.
"Increasing the Senkaimon's stable runtime from ten minutes to one hour isn't just a numbers game," he said seriously, eyes glancing toward the vortex.
"It means the Reishi architecture has reached a new level of structural integrity. The circuits are more stable, energy output more consistent, and the spatial corridor more secure."
He looked to Hiyori, gaze sincere.
"This leap in stability greatly reduces the chances of accidents during transfer.
"Like those rare cases in the past—when Shinigami would get thrown off course during unstable transitions and end up lost somewhere between realms. This should make such events nearly impossible."
He paused, then concluded:
"For every Shinigami who must travel between realms on a regular basis, this is a genuine and critical enhancement to safety. Well done."
Only after hearing this did the gathered Shinigami seem to fully appreciate the improvement.
Right—there had been incidents before. Not common, but real.
This new stability was a welcome safeguard.
Clap… clap clap…
A few scattered claps quickly turned into wider applause.
Surrounded by rising appreciation and Shiki's warm praise, Hiyori's earlier gloom evaporated.
She straightened her back, lifted her chin even higher, and her voice turned almost smug:
"Hmph. At least someone here has taste. And this is just the first step. The next phase? Portability and rapid deployment. Once that's ready—"
She suddenly stopped.
As if remembering something, she awkwardly reached into her uniform.
After a moment of fumbling, she pulled out two well-kept books.
One was a special edition of The Youth, the other a pristine copy of The Killer of Meteor City.
Staring at the ground beside her feet—anywhere but at Shiki—she held them out and muttered, voice low and a little tense:
"S-Sign these."
Shiki's eyes sparkled instantly.
His face switched into full "fan service" mode in a heartbeat.
He smoothly pulled out a pen from inside his coat and scribbled his signature—"Master Shika" across both title pages, complete with a quick, elegant ink-brush drawing of a plum blossom for flourish.
"Here you go. Please keep them safe."
He returned the books with a flawless smile.
"Thank you so much for enjoying my work. Your support means everything to me."
Hiyori snatched the books from his hand and shoved them back into her uniform like she was hiding contraband.
Then, trying to mask her flustered expression, she shouted at the Shinigami still clapping and prepping:
"What're you all looking at!? Move it! Even if it's stable, the gate still drains spirit energy! Learn to conserve! You bald morons!"
With that, she spun around and vanished behind the machinery, leaving only a sliver of blonde hair poking out.
Shiki watched her retreating figure for a moment and smiled faintly.
Then, as he turned, the warmth and charm on his face vanished in an instant—replaced once again by the icy, distant expression of a refined Soul Society noble.
He didn't spare anyone else a glance.
With steady strides, he approached the swirling black vortex and, without hesitation, stepped into the light of the Senkaimon.
…