"Give it back... Give the Hōgyoku back to me!!!"
Amid the shattered ruins and muddy battlefield, Aizen Sōsuke writhed helplessly on the ground.
His limbs were broken, the Hōgyoku was gone, and the last remnants of his pride had been utterly crushed.
Blood covered his face as he stared desperately at the blue jewel resting quietly in Uchiha Tobirama's hand.
That had been his path to godhood.
His dream of ruling a new world.
Yet now, the miraculous jewel that had once answered only to him lay obediently in another's palm.
"Kill me... Give the Hōgyoku back!"
Aizen screamed hysterically, coughing up blood.
The mastermind who had manipulated the entire Gotei 13 with flawless calculations no longer resembled the composed villain he once was.
"How tiresome."
Floating high above, Tobirama casually rolled the Hōgyoku between his fingers.
He did not even bother looking at the broken man below.
A trace of boredom flashed through his purple Rinnegan.
Once arrogance was stripped away...
Only an ugly shell remained.
Someone like Aizen no longer interested him.
"I'm done with this."
Tobirama exhaled a stream of cigar smoke.
His gaze settled calmly upon Aizen.
Buzz—
The six tomoe within his eyes began rotating in reverse.
"Age Deprivation."
Boom!!
"W-What... is happening... to my body..."
Aizen's voice instantly became old and hoarse.
The remaining captains watched in horror.
His body began aging at an impossible speed.
One second...
Fifty years.
Wrinkles spread across his face.
His brown hair turned white before falling away in clumps.
"No..."
"Time..."
"You're... taking away my lifespan?!"
Panic filled Aizen's clouded eyes.
Never in all his years as a Shinigami had he experienced old age.
His muscles rapidly withered.
His bones weakened.
His Spiritual Pressure dried up like a riverbed beneath a scorching sun.
Two seconds.
One hundred years.
Five seconds.
Two hundred and fifty years.
Ten seconds.
Five hundred years.
Within only ten seconds...
Five centuries passed across his body.
"Ah..."
His voice faded into a whisper.
His shriveled form became little more than skin and bone.
Crack.
His body—and even his robes—crumbled apart like an ancient statue weathered by countless centuries.
A gentle breeze drifted across the battlefield.
Whoosh...
Gray ash scattered into the wind.
The greatest schemer in Soul Society.
The man who dreamed of sitting upon the throne of heaven.
Met no glorious final battle.
No legendary duel.
Only a single glance from Tobirama.
Five hundred years passed in an instant...
Leaving nothing behind but drifting ash.
"The pretentious insect disappeared cleanly enough."
Tobirama brushed imaginary dust from his Hokage cloak.
Silence.
Absolute silence settled across Seireitei.
Kyōraku Shunsui sat motionless.
His straw hat had long since disappeared.
He stared blankly at the place where Aizen had vanished.
"...What kind of being..."
"...did we challenge?"
Hitsugaya Tōshirō knelt silently.
His sword slipped from his trembling hands.
Despair weighed heavily upon every survivor.
Then—
Step.
Step.
Step.
Soft footsteps echoed through the ruined streets.
Though quiet...
Each one landed heavily upon everyone's heart.
An overwhelming killing intent approached from the direction of the Fourth Division barracks.
It was dense.
Cold.
Ancient.
Even Kenpachi Zaraki's murderous aura paled beside it.
"...That presence..."
Kyōraku's face turned pale.
"It can't be..."
"Did she finally remove the seal...?"
...
From the drifting smoke emerged a slender figure.
She wore the white captain's haori of the Fourth Division.
Captain Unohana Retsu.
Normally, she was known as the gentlest healer in the Gotei Thirteen.
Always smiling.
Always calm.
But now...
Not a trace of that warmth remained.
She slowly loosened the long braid resting across her chest.
Her black hair cascaded freely over her shoulders.
As the braid came undone...
A terrible scar across the front of her throat was revealed.
The seal...
Had been released.
The gentle captain disappeared.
Standing there instead was the original monster.
The first Kenpachi.
Yachiru Unohana.
Her eyes were no longer kind.
They overflowed with bloodlust accumulated across a thousand years.
"What a wonderful scent..."
She inhaled deeply.
The battlefield smelled of blood and death.
Yamamoto had fallen.
Kenpachi Zaraki had died.
The Soul Society lay in ruins.
Yet Unohana felt no sorrow.
Only excitement.
For the first time in a millennium...
She no longer had to restrain herself.
"It's been one thousand years."
"The old man is gone."
"The rules are gone."
She stepped across the bloodstained ruins until she stood before Tobirama.
She never glanced at the fallen captains.
Her gaze remained fixed entirely upon him.
"Your presence..."
"...is intoxicating."
"So you're the one who transformed this dull world into such a battlefield."
A faint smile spread across her lips.
In the air above, Tobirama looked down at her.
For the first time...
Genuine interest appeared in his eyes.
"So..."
"There was still someone worthwhile hidden among the rest."
"You aren't here for revenge."
"Revenge?"
Unohana chuckled quietly.
"Only the weak need excuses."
She slowly drew her Zanpakutō.
Minazuki.
"I simply haven't stood at death's doorstep in far too long."
"Your strength..."
"...has awakened something inside me."
"Come."
"Show me the power that defeated everyone else."
Boom—
Dark crimson Spiritual Pressure erupted from her body.
"Bankai."
She planted Minazuki downward.
"Minazuki."
Gurgle...
Gurgle...
The blade dissolved into thick crimson liquid.
It spread rapidly across the battlefield.
Stone.
Earth.
Ruins.
Everything it touched dissolved with a harsh sizzling sound.
Within moments...
The battlefield became a vast sea of crimson.
"What... is this Bankai?!"
Kyōraku hurriedly pulled Hitsugaya onto higher ground.
"That liquid melts everything!"
This was the original Kenpachi's true power.
A battlefield where only endless combat remained.
Unohana stood calmly within the crimson sea.
Even as the corrosive liquid consumed her own feet...
She paid it no mind.
Instead...
She smiled.
"This is my battlefield."
"Fight me with everything you have."
"Or defeat me completely."
Only battle remained in her eyes.
Stepping across the crimson sea, she shot toward Tobirama like a scarlet bolt of lightning.
No elaborate Kidō.
No elaborate strategies.
Only pure combat.
Watching her charge forward, Tobirama laughed.
"Hahaha! Excellent!"
He gently set Matsumoto Rangiku down at a safe distance.
Without drawing his sword.
Without using Armament Haki.
He stepped forward with empty hands.
Like an ancient beast meeting a worthy challenger, he rushed directly toward the incoming storm of crimson.
"If it's a contest of pure strength you seek..."
"Then come."
"I'll meet you head-on."
Boom————!!!!
Their collision shook the crimson battlefield as fists and blade met in a thunderous clash.