Chain Reaction

Every hair on Kurosaki Masaki's body stood on end.

A flicker of shock crossed her resolute face—she had been so focused that she hadn't even noticed another presence nearby.

There was no time to react, no way to defend herself.

The angle of attack was too precise.

"Masaki!!!"

Ishida Ryūken's voice rang out from behind.

For a brief moment, Masaki felt as if she was staring at the Sanzu River.

So… this is it?

She felt a pang of unwillingness.

But, well… whatever.

Life was always full of unexpected turns.

She felt a little sorry for Ryūken, but she had done her best. There was no room for regret.

Her expression relaxed.

Yet, her instincts refused to go down without a fight.

Even as her mind accepted her fate, her body reacted on its own—

The reishi bow in her right hand twisted slightly, shifting its aim.

In that instant, the concentrated energy fired.

A torrent of deep blue reishi roared forth like a high-caliber shell, spiraling through the air.

It tore through Yaksha's body, rending flesh and scales alike.

The Hollow was nearly split in two.

The blast carried on, shooting into the sky like a meteor, illuminating the rain-drenched battlefield.

The sheer destructive force was undeniable.

But that was the last of Masaki's strength.

Her arms relaxed, her eyes closed.

She was ready to accept the end.

But then—

Despite its grievous wounds, Yaksha moved.

Its right claw lashed out, slamming against Masaki's stomach.

A faint glow flickered as Blut Vene activated instinctively, barely preventing her from being torn apart.

Yet the sheer force of the blow sent her flying.

She crashed into the wrecked asphalt with a deafening boom!

Ishida Ryūken staggered forward, reaching out to catch her.

"Masaki! Are you okay?!"

Masaki coughed violently, groaning. "Ugh… Ryūken, that hurts…"

A stroke of luck.

Had she been struck by the blade instead, she wouldn't be alive to complain about the pain.

A figure in a black raincoat hovered in midair, gazing at his sword.

His expression was one of mild surprise.

Aizen Sōsuke.

Even after witnessing everything unfold, he couldn't resist intervening.

Just as Seiya had predicted.

Unlike Hollow White, which he had observed passively, Aizen took a much deeper interest in Seiya's Yaksha.

Letting it die here—even if Seiya himself didn't care—was something Aizen could not allow.

His decision to interfere shattered his own "observer" persona.

But that hardly mattered.

Leaders are allowed to be flexible.

He flicked his blade, shaking off nonexistent blood, and turned toward Yaksha.

"Did the pain dull your senses?" he murmured. "I should have noticed their intentions sooner. My apologies."

Lifting a hand, he gently patted Yaksha's head.

For once, Aizen's voice carried something unusual—genuine remorse.

His concern was glaringly obvious.

Yaksha, however, remained eerily silent.

Its heavy breaths were slow and deliberate.

Its nearly bisected torso trembled, but—

Even this would not be enough to kill it.

The regenerative abilities of a Hollow were among the strongest of any spiritual beings.

Still, such severe damage would take time to heal.

Aizen understood that.

He wasn't expecting a response.

Instead, he simply reassured Yaksha with a quiet gesture.

"Aizen-sama…"

Tōsen Kaname appeared at his side, his gaze shifting toward their wounded targets.

A severely injured Shiba Isshin.

A barely conscious Quincy woman.

And a Quincy man who was just strong enough to be a mild nuisance.

"Shall we finish this?"

The implication was clear.

Their cover was blown.

There was no turning back.

And that meant—

No one here could be allowed to live.

Ishida Ryūken caught the low murmur, his expression darkening.

Everything had spiraled completely out of control.

They had unwittingly stumbled into a war.

And now they had drawn the attention of opponents whose power they couldn't even sense.

Think!

What's the best move? Beg for mercy? Try to negotiate?

Before he could decide, Isshin spoke first.

"Aizen… Tōsen… You bastards—!"

His voice trembled, filled with both pain and fury.

"You're both captains of the 3rd and 9th Divisions, aren't you?!"

No more hiding.

No disguises.

No manipulation.

Their names were called, their identities revealed.

Aizen removed his hood with a smirk.

"Good evening, Captain Shiba. What a tragic coincidence, meeting like this."

After all…

"I never wanted to hurt someone as talented as you."

A rising star in the Gotei 13.

A promising, powerful captain.

Once, Aizen had even considered recruiting him.

Isshin let out a hoarse laugh, bitter and exhausted.

"So you're the one behind all of this…"

Aizen's expression remained pleasant.

"It's not much of a secret, really. If you're that interested, I could explain—"

"But right now, shouldn't you be more concerned about your condition?"

"Spiritual bodies may be different from humans, but even you aren't immune to blood loss."

He smiled.

"At this rate… you'll die soon."

It was spoken so casually.

So matter-of-factly.

Isshin's lips pressed into a thin line.

His gaze flickered sideways.

To Ishida Ryūken.

And the unconscious Kurosaki Masaki.

They weren't part of this.

They had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They shouldn't have to die here.

A faint whisper resonated between them.

'Hey… can you still fight?'

A compression of reiryoku, a subtle message sent through spiritual wavelengths.

Ryūken's expression shifted slightly.

He understood instantly.

'Barely. I have a little over half my reishi left.'

'That's enough. Get ready to run—take her with you.'

No response.

Isshin took a deep breath, straightening his posture.

'I'll buy you time. It won't be much, but it's the best I can do.'

Ryūken hesitated.

His experiences with Shinigami had never been pleasant.

But Isshin…

'Why are you doing this?'

The captain smiled, weary yet warm.

'Because you two… are good people.'

They had risked their lives for a complete stranger.

Their identities didn't matter.

What mattered was what they chose to do.

'By the way… what's her name?'

'…Kurosaki Masaki.'

'That's a nice name.'

'…What do you mean?'

'Nothing.'

Isshin chuckled.

'Just never thought a Quincy would be so selfless.'

'That's just Masaki's personality.'

'Even so, I should return the favor.'

'What are you—'

'Listen, kid.'

'My name is Shiba Isshin. When I die, make sure the Gotei 13 knows what happened here.'

Because right now—

It was time to fulfill his duty.

For the honor of the Gotei 13.

For the safety of innocent lives.

"Aizen Sōsuke! Come at me!"

A battle cry rang through the storm.

Isshin raised his sword once more, prepared to fight to the bitter end.

And Ryūken—

Prepared to run.

Tōsen Kaname stepped forward, blade in hand.

"This is beneath Aizen-sama," he declared coldly.

"I shall handle it myself."

The battlefield tensed.

Isshin knew he wouldn't last long.

He had to buy time.

But just as the fight was about to erupt—

A voice, steady and rhythmic, began to chant.

"Hand of a thousand, beyond the darkness…"

"Archer of the heavens, shining path of light…"

"Crimson fire, the towering cannon—"

"Hado #91—Senju Koten Taiho."

A scarlet inferno roared across the battlefield.

Tōsen's blade slashed forward, countering the massive blast.

Isshin's eyes widened.

He knew that incantation.

That spell.

That level of power…

A new player had entered the battlefield.

A man in a green haori, wide-brimmed hat shading his face, leaned against a cane with an easygoing smile.

Their eyes met.

And Isshin saw it—

Pure, unshakable intent.

"Man, you really held out, Captain Shiba."

He grinned.

"Good job."

And in the shadows—

The Visored finally stepped forward.

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Powerstones?

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