Time flowed forward once more.
When the phenomenon of Shinigami Hollowfication erupted again in Rukongai, it instantly drew Seireitei's attention. A response squad was swiftly assembled—led by 3rd Division Captain, Ōtoribashi Rōjirō.
Due to prior experience handling similar incidents, Central 46 dispatched only Rōjirō and his Lieutenant, Iba Chikane, judging that would be sufficient.
After all, according to their records, only Hollowfied Shinigami reinforced by Makyo-tō posed any serious threat. The patrol Shinigami currently stationed in Rukongai lacked both the power and the means to endanger a Captain-class combatant.
Only Urahara Kisuke, Captain of the 12th Division, frowned as he read the deployment order.
He alone—having led the investigation following the Kōrōdani Rebellion—understood that the incident hadn't been as simple as it had seemed.
The "Heart of the Soul King" spoken of by Kōrōdani Mayuu had never been recovered. The number of Makyo-tō cores didn't match her confession—off by a factor of five. The true cause of the Hollowfication phenomenon remained unconfirmed.
All Urahara had ever uncovered were loose threads:
—Unokami Yōkaku had been spotted in the farthest northern ward of Rukongai, near Zaraki.
—Sengoku Nagare, former expedition commander, had wielded a Zanpakutō which was later confirmed to be a Makyo-tō.
—And then, of course, there was Higashi Shuuichi, who had supposedly taken a mission to Zaraki on Unokami's behalf… but never actually went. Instead, he leisurely carried out his normal 4th Division duties, knowing the Kōrōdani household was under strict surveillance.
Back then, Urahara had intentionally filed a vague and seemingly careless report to lull the enemy into complacency. At the same time, he'd prepared the Onmitsukidō for an ambush should the enemy make another move.
But the enemy never responded.
Not a whisper.
Central 46, in their usual blind stupidity, approved Urahara's "conclusion"—that the Hollowfication was the result of a failed Makyo-tō evolution.
It wasn't until now, with new Hollowfication events emerging, that Urahara realized his mistake.
When things had quieted down back then, he had submitted a second report, explaining the first had been a deliberate ruse.
But Central 46 had never replied. Never reprimanded him. Never questioned anything.
It should have been a red flag.
But at the time, Urahara had been too busy: succeeding Hikifune Kirio as the 12th Division Captain, laying the foundation for the new Department of Research and Development…
In hindsight, it was highly likely that Central 46 had never received his follow-up report at all.
A heavy anxiety gripped Urahara's heart.
He summoned his Lieutenant, Sarugaki Hiyori, and told her to go find Ōtoribashi Rōjirō immediately. If anything seemed off, signal for reinforcements at once.
Unfortunately, Urahara still reacted a step too late.
Before Hiyori could reach the investigation squad, Rōjirō and Iba encountered someone unexpected.
"Huh? Isn't that Aizen? What're you doing here? Weren't you escorting the Shin'ō Academy students on a field trip to the Human World?"
Rōjirō still hadn't sensed the severity of the situation. Friendly with Hirako Shinji, he held nothing but goodwill toward Aizen Sōsuke, the mild-mannered Vice-Captain always known for looking after his subordinates.
It was his Lieutenant, Iba Chikane, who moved first—stepping protectively in front of her Captain.
"Careful, Rōjirō. Something's not right."
She was one of the few veterans still alive who had watched Rōjirō rise from a new recruit to Division Captain. Her relationship with him ran deep—deep enough that she addressed him by name, something almost no other Vice-Captain dared.
"Come on, Chikane. It's just Aizen~"
Rōjirō waved her off casually.
Aizen Sōsuke? That guy's harmless.
But then Aizen smiled, stepping forward.
"Ōtoribashi Rōjirō... as a Captain, you've really let yourself slip. If even your Lieutenant can sense something's off, and you can't—well, that's just pathetic."
A sliver of reiryoku escaped his body.
Instantly, all of the Shinigami who'd accompanied Rōjirō to investigate—dropped to the ground.
Bisected. Silently.
They didn't even realize they were dead.
"What the hell are you doing, Aizen Sōsuke?!"
Rōjirō's smile vanished.
"The Gotei 13 has no need for deadweight like you. Why let a waste of space rot in a Captain's seat when you can at least be useful as fertilizer?"
Aizen adjusted his glasses, voice mild as if he'd just crushed a fly.
"Aizen, you..."
Rōjirō couldn't understand. How had Aizen, of all people, become this monster?
But Chikane understood.
"Hadō #63: Raikōhō!"
The thunderous bolt screamed toward Aizen's throat.
It never reached.
"Do you know what the weak love most?"
Aizen caught the lightning in his palm. Sparks danced across his fingers—illuminating his gentle, unwavering smile.
"Struggle."
Boom.
His fingers closed. The Raikōhō detonated harmlessly in his hand.
Chikane felt cold sweat down her spine.
"Hadō—!"
She barely began the chant when a shadow covered her.
Aizen touched her forehead—just one finger. Delicate. Casual.
"See? Still struggling."
"Chikane! No!"
Rōjirō hadn't even had time to release his Zanpakutō.
Aizen was too fast.
As Chikane felt that cold finger press against her brow, her heart grew strangely calm.
She murmured her son's name in her heart—Iba Tetsuzaemon.
The boy who always shouted about honor and justice…
That was what she couldn't let go of.
"Hadō #73… Twin—"
Black light. A spray of blood.
She never finished the spell.