The Sōkyoku Unleashed

As dusk approached, the wind from Sōkyoku Hill swept up from the cliff face, causing Rukia's white Sin Robes to flutter loudly. She was escorted by two jailers, step by step, up the steps leading to the execution platform. The shackles dragged on the stone slabs, making a soft, metallic scraping sound.

The Sōkyoku Scaffold stood before her. The two enormous stone pillars pierced the sky, their shafts covered with ancient engravings. The Sōkyoku Spears hung directly in front of the rig, their tips pointing upwards, bound in mid-air by dozens of Reishi chains.

Each of those chains was as thick as an adult's arm, with dark red Sealing Formulae flowing across their surface, binding the spear tightly, awaiting only the command to release it.

The spear hadn't been released yet, but the Reiatsu emanating from its mere presence made the air thick and heavy. Rukia's breathing unconsciously became shallow.

She was taken directly beneath the rack. The jailers secured her handcuffs to the rings on the stone pillars and then stepped back to either side.

Rukia stood there, her thin body wrapped in white, the wind blowing through her hair. She looked up at the giant spear standing before her.

After her will to die was shattered by the silver, she was now forced to face this instrument of torture in her most vulnerable state. She could feel her fingertips trembling, and fear was spreading in her heart.

Not far away, Fon Shaoling and Marechiyo Ōmaeda stood at the edge of Sōkyoku Hill. Fon Shaoling crossed her arms and glanced at the few figures present—too few had come.

She lowered her voice and said to Marechiyo Ōmaeda, "Why are there so few people?"

The only First Division with both captains and Lieutenant present were the First Division of the Captain-Commander, our Second Division, and Shunsui Kyōraku's Eighth Division.

Leaving aside the fact that Captain Unohana was preparing nearby, and excluding the special cases of the Fifth Division and Twelfth Divisions —what about the others?

Marechiyo Ōmaeda's expression was grave, and his voice was even lower than hers. "According to the latest intelligence, Captain Tōsen took the initiative to intercept Captain Zaraki."

Meanwhile, the Dungeon Group we were responsible for guiding was Mental Interference, causing the leader to deviate from the planned route and lead Chad and his group towards Captain Komamura.

"As for the Tenth Division —Amber just received a message from Lieutenant Matsumoto. Captain Hitsugaya and she are on their way to investigate the Central 46 and are temporarily unable to leave."

Fon Shaoling frowned. "Where are the most crucial figures, Ichigo Kurosaki and the two people from the Sixth Division —the two groups most closely connected to Rukia Kuchiki? Why haven't they made a move?"

"This..." Marechiyo Ōmaeda's fingers cracked behind his back. "Ichigo Kurosaki is still Bankai."

As for the Sixth Division... Abarai did not accept the concealed route I provided, and two hours ago he went straight to the Fourth Depth Prison alone, and has not been heard from since.

But Rukia has been brought here, he's probably... in grave danger.

Fon Shaoling took a deep breath, lowering her voice even further, each word dripping with barely suppressed anger, "What on earth are these guys doing? Where's Amber? Where did Amber go?"

"Amber is currently waiting below Sōkyoku Hill."

"Have Koko ready at any time." Fon Shaoling's gaze shifted to the Sōkyoku Scaffold. "If Ichigo Kurosaki doesn't make it in time, have Koko step in to hold him off."

Marechiyo Ōmaeda's eyelid twitched. "That's Sōkyoku! Is Koro really alright?"

"Sōkyoku is a beast of blades made from millions of Asauchi swords. Its original purpose was to pierce through unsuspecting Captain-level Spirit Body. Conversely—" Fon Shaoling slowly revealed the truth, "As long as Captain-level Soul Reaper is on guard, Sōkyoku will not be so easy to kill its target."

Moreover, the Sōkyoku wasn't designed for actual combat; once its execution is thwarted, its reaction becomes very mechanical and sluggish. It's not that difficult to stop.

A figure slowly walked up the steps...

It was Byakuya Kuchiki who walked up to Sōkyoku Hill. His Captain's Haori was wrinkled in several places, the cuffs were covered in dust, and the collar was slightly open.

The Silver-White Kaze no Hana he never parted with was no longer around his neck; instead, fine beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, his lips were tightly pressed together, and every step he took was heavy.

He looked as if he had just escaped from a battle that had dragged on for far too long; all the dishevelment he had never shown to outsiders was now written all over his body.

Ōmaeda's gaze lingered on Byakuya's empty collar for a moment. "It seems we've found the reason why Abarai has been missing for Marechiyo Ōmaeda."

Fon Shaoling didn't answer; her gaze followed Byakuya's retreating figure as he walked step by step toward the captain's seat in front of the execution platform.

Rewind slightly to the moment Renji fell.

Scattered across the plaza were fragments of Reishi left after the Bone Serpent disintegrated. Renji lay in the center of the shattered stone slab, covered in blood. His fingers were unconsciously curled, his palm resting on the broken hilt of the sword, his breathing weak but still rising and falling.

Byakuya stood beside him, looking down at the face covered in blood and dust, then he raised his hand and untied the Silver-White Kaze no Hana around his neck.

The fabric slipped from his fingers and gently fell onto Renji's body. The Ikkaku of the Kaze no Hana was soaked with blood, turning a very pale red.

"Very well, Renji. Your fangs have indeed touched me."

He turned and walked toward the direction of Sōkyoku Hill. But Renji's the Roar still wouldn't let him go; his words were like countless fine needles, repeatedly piercing his dazed mind.

"I didn't push her into the Kuchiki Clan to send her to the executioner's block!"

Byakuya recalled these words, his steps faltering slightly.

"The rules of Soul Society are absolute, and even my sister cannot violate them."

"You have such great power, why are you still unwilling to save her!"

"I am the head of the Kuchiki family. As a model of nobility, my power is used to protect the dignity of the nobility, not for personal reasons."

"I will save her! I swear on my soul!"

"I... I seem to have said something similar."

Byakuya's steps became even more unsteady. He walked on the road leading to Sōkyoku Hill, his hands gripping the stone wall, his forehead pressed against the cold stone surface, looking like an old man on his deathbed.

Something locked deep within Byakuya's consciousness is trying to break free of some kind of restraint, like a drowning person desperately flailing their arms underwater.

He felt it—the weight of that old friend, the weight that felt as light as a cherry blossom petal when he held her in his arms:

It was a moonlit night with few stars. Under an old cherry blossom tree, a woman whose face was obscured sat opposite him, holding a wine glass in both hands, her eyelashes lowered.

"Byakuya, can I really be with you?" Her voice was like cherry blossoms scattered by the wind. "Would someone like me, from Rukongai, be ridiculed by you, a member of the Kuchiki Clan? Would I be a burden to you?"

He pulled her into his arms, letting her head rest against his chest. "Don't worry, you won't be a burden to me. On the contrary, only with you by my side can I become a better version of myself. You are a part of my soul, and no villain will have the chance to mock you. I will protect you, I swear by my soul!"

"Hi..." Byakuya opened his eyes as his memories ended.

Just as that name was about to break through the ice of memory, an invisible force suddenly tightened from within.

Memories were like rusted iron chains being torn apart piece by piece; the cherry blossom tree, the moonlight, the woman's face—all faded rapidly, sinking into the black box deepest in his consciousness, a box that had been repeatedly sealed away.

His heart felt like it had been ripped out from the inside. He bent over and gripped the edge of the stone steps, his face appearing even paler in the blood-red sunset.

This isn't the first time. Whenever that name, that blurry face, that warmth buried deep within is about to surface, the memory is forcibly pushed back down by some force.

He felt that a part of his heart was now just an empty hole. "It's like nothingness..."

"Byakuya."

A voice came from the entrance of the forest. Byakuya turned around and saw Amber leaning against a tree trunk. The scabbard of the Jiku'a Blade at his waist gleamed with a dark red light in the current, and Byakuya's face, paler than ever, was reflected in his silver eyes.

"It seems Renji- senpai has caused you quite a bit of trouble."

"Renji is nothing to me, he won't cause me any trouble." Byakuya's voice returned to calm, but his fingers, still resting on the stone wall, hadn't yet retracted. "With his power alone, he can't harm me in any way."

"How long has it been since you last looked in a mirror?" Hu took a step forward. "Do you know how you look right now?"

"Stop with these pointless tricks. If you want to emulate Renji, then draw your sword. I will uphold the rules of Soul Society." Byakuya's hand touched the hilt of his sword.

Amber remembered what Ichigo had said to him without turning back as he fought Zangetsu when Ichigo left the Secret Base: "Hey! Amber! If you run into Byakuya Kuchiki outside, don't touch him. I have too much to say to that guy, and too many scores to settle with him."

"No." Hu took a step back, spreading her hands out, palms up. "Unfortunately, I wasn't the one responsible for waking you up. You'll have to wait a little longer."

Byakuya looked at him, at this young man who always lost his temper in front of him, who now kept his sword firmly in its sheath, handing the battle over to someone else. Byakuya did not answer, but turned and stepped onto the stairs leading to Sōkyoku Hill.

Watching his retreating figure, Hu added, "You really should take a good look in the mirror. Your complexion is absolutely terrible."

"I haven't reached the point where you need to worry about me." Byakuya didn't turn around.

When he finally stood atop Sōkyoku Hill, he saw Rukia.

She stood in the center of the rack, her thin body wrapped in a white Sin Robe, her wrists locked to the rings on the stone pillars.

The wind ruffled the ends of her hair, revealing a face that was strikingly similar to Hisana's, yet younger and more stubborn. She raised her head, her purple eyes piercing through the wind and light of the execution ground, through everything that stood between them, and landed on him.

Byakuya quickly looked away.

He almost instinctively turned his head away, letting those eyes slip off him, the movement as quick as if he'd been burned.

He walked to the line of captains, stood up straight, looked straight ahead, and didn't look at Rukia again.

Why did I look away?

"Big brother..." Rukia's voice was very soft, carried away by the wind.

The sun had already moved to the west, and the setting sun began to gradually paint the sky and earth red. The Reishi chains on the Sōkyoku Spears gleamed with a dark red luster in the twilight light, binding the spears tightly.

Dozens of chains were wrapped from the tip of the spear to its tail, each one inscribed with Sealing Formulae, awaiting only the command to release them.

Captain-Commander Yamamoto stood before the group of captains, his hands clasped together, leaning on a cane formed from Ryūjin Jakka. His voice was not loud, but each word was like a red-hot nail, firmly driven into the air dyed red by the sunset.

"Rukia Kuchiki, is there anything else you'd like to say?"

Rukia lowered her head and remained silent for a moment. "Yes. Only one sentence."

She raised her head, looking at Captain-Commander Yamamoto. Her purple eyes held no fear, only a calm that bordered on resignation. "Ichigo Kurosaki are innocent. They're just humans caught up in this incident because of my incompetence. I beg you, Captain-Commander, to spare them."

Yamamoto looked at her. His eyes, weathered by a thousand years of time, revealed no emotion. "Very well. As you wish. After the execution, let the Ryoka return safely."

"Thank you for your understanding."

Isane Kotetsu stood behind Unohana, her hands clasped in front of her. She recalled the order personally given by Captain-Commander Yamamoto at the Captains' Meeting yesterday—

We will go all out to apprehend the Ryoka, regardless of their lives.

Now he stands on the execution platform, gently telling a dying girl that her friends will be safely returned home.

"That's outrageous." Isane's voice was almost a whisper to herself, "They clearly weren't planning on letting them go back."

When Unohana arrived, she heard Isane's suppressed mutter and lowered her eyelashes.

"This isn't excessive, Isane, it's compassion." Her voice was soft, her gaze falling on Rukia's face, which had relaxed slightly. "Since it's an inevitable ending, at least let her go without any regrets."

After she finished speaking, she fell silent.

She sensed more Reiatsu conflicts than expected on her way here:

Perhaps sacrifices are unavoidable in this battle.

Her fingertips clenched slightly inside her sleeve.

Captain-Commander Yamamoto raised his hand, and the air suddenly tightened. The Sealing Formulae on the Sōkyoku Scaffold began to peel away layer by layer, and the dozens of Reishi chains loosened from the spear, turning into Reishi particle fragments and dissipating in the air.

The giant spear slowly rose, hovering in mid-air, its tip aimed at Rukia. The stone pillars on either side of the rack began to resonate with a deep, resonant sound, their engravings lighting up layer by layer, turning the entire sky, dyed red by the sunset, into a dazzling blue.

"Liberate Sōkyoku."

The Sōkyoku Spears unleashed a soaring blue Reiatsu. The moment the seal was completely broken, the giant spear transformed into a colossal crimson firebird—its wingspan as wide as mountains, each swing causing the entire Sōkyoku Hill to tremble.

Flames erupted from its body, and waves of heat spread outwards in layers, forcing even the captains standing at a distance to raise their arms to shield themselves from the scorching wind.

The giant firebird raised its head, its fiery beak aimed at the white figure on the Sōkyoku Scaffold, and then it raised its body towards the white-clad prisoner in the center of the rack.