Aizen vs. Liu Hao (Nine)
Aizen's brow furrowed slightly. Liu Hao's words subtly resonated with his own research. He had indeed discovered that the Hōgyoku sometimes exhibited a kind of will, guiding him in a certain direction. But he had always believed that it was his own judgment, his own choice, his own will.
Liu Hao continued, "Under the influence of this instinct, these fragments will separate their own power to fulfill the wishes of those around them, in order to satisfy people's worship and trust in them."
Think about it, when you obtained a Soul King Fragment, what did you feel? Didn't you feel an increase in power? Didn't you feel some kind of guidance? Didn't you feel as if someone was telling you what to do? That's the fragment's instinct at work. It tempts you with power, pleases you with success, and controls you with guidance. You think you're using it, but in reality, it's using you."
A flicker of emotion crossed Aizen's eyes. He recalled the days he spent researching the Soul King Fragments, those moments that seemed guided by fate, and those discoveries he thought were flashes of inspiration that might actually have been manipulated. But he quickly suppressed the flicker, his gaze sharpening once more.
"Liu Hao," Aizen said coldly, "I admit there's some truth to what you said. But that's just your speculation, your explanation, your understanding. How can you prove that what you're saying is correct? How can you prove that the will of these fragments is unrelated to the Soul King? How can you prove that you truly understand the existence of the Soul King? What is the Soul King? Where does the Soul King come from? What is the meaning of the Soul King's existence? Even the people in the Zero Division can't answer these questions, so what makes you think you can understand them?"
Aizen's voice carried a hint of doubt and provocation. He looked at Liu Hao, awaiting his answer. He didn't believe Liu Hao could truly understand the Soul King, because that was impossible. The existence of the Soul King had already surpassed the cognitive scope of Soul Reaper, exceeded the limits of comprehension in Soul Society, and transcended the scope that any language or logic could describe.
Liu Hao listened to Aizen's questioning, his smile remaining composed. A glint flashed in his eyes, a light that seemed to see through everything. He spoke slowly, his voice calm and confident. "Sōsuke Aizen. The Soul King himself is indeed beyond my comprehension. The Soul King's existence is too vast, too distant, too profound. His will, his thoughts, his purpose—even he himself may not fully understand them. But..."
Liu Hao paused for a moment, then raised the Hōgyoku he was holding between his two fingers. His gaze fell on the Hōgyoku, a playful glint in his eyes. "I can easily understand a mere wisp of instinctive will born from a Soul King Fragment."
Just as you can understand a child's thoughts but not necessarily the child's father's deeper meaning; just as you can see through the trajectory of a chess piece but not necessarily the player's overall plan. Fragments are fragments; they can never be equated with the whole. Instinct is instinct; it can never be equated with will.
As soon as he finished speaking, the Hōgyoku held between Liu Hao's two fingers suddenly burst forth with dazzling light. The light was so intense that it was impossible to look directly at it, as if a miniature sun had been born in Liu Hao's hand. The light spread out, illuminating the entire space and everyone's face.
Within this light, the crowd seemed to hear a sound. It was a lament, a wail, a desperate cry. The sound seemed to come from a distant place, yet also seemed to be right beside them. The sound contained pain, fear, and the desire to survive. It was the lament of the Hōgyoku, the instinctive wail born from the Soul King Fragment.
Aizen's body stiffened abruptly. He felt the Hōgyoku in his chest—the Hōgyoku that had merged with him—suddenly tremble violently. The trembling wasn't a physical vibration, but something deeper, like a life shivering in fear.
Aizen could clearly sense the emotions emanating from the Hōgyoku —an unprecedented fear, a fear of his own existence about to vanish. That fear was so intense, so real, so deeply ingrained that even Aizen himself felt a pang of unease.
He looked at the Hōgyoku in Liu Hao's hand, watching the once crystal-clear, powerful sphere struggle in the light. The light seemed to be devouring something, peeling away something, destroying something. The light of the Hōgyoku grew weaker and weaker, dimmer and dimmer, closer and closer to being extinguished. And the mournful cry also grew fainter and fainter, more and more distant, closer and closer to disappearing.
In an instant, the light vanished. The Hōgyoku between Liu Hao's fingers, the Hogyoku that once contained all of Kisuke Urahara Hōgyoku, coveted by countless people, and targeted by Aizen, became a dull, lifeless sphere. It no longer glowed, no longer pulsed, and no longer fluctuated in any way. It was like an ordinary glass ball, a dead object, a worthless piece of trash.
Then, under everyone's gaze, the sphere turned into dust between Liu Hao's two fingers. The dust drifted down from Liu Hao's fingertips, like fine sand, like dust, like a phantom that had never existed. It dispersed in the air and gradually disappeared, as if it had never existed at all.
The entire space fell into a deathly silence.
Kisuke Urahara watched this scene and subconsciously adjusted his hat. His movements were slow and gentle, as if afraid of disturbing something. The shadow of the brim of his hat obscured his expression, making it impossible to see his true feelings. But the slight trembling of his fingers betrayed the shock in his heart.
That Hōgyoku was a masterpiece he had poured countless hours of effort into creating, a crystallization of his wisdom, and the result of his exploration of the essence of power. Although he already knew of Liu Hao's strength, and although he had prepared himself mentally, seeing his creation so easily Hōgyoku still filled him with a complex and indescribable emotion. There was a trace of loss, a trace of awe, a trace of confusion, and a trace of relief in that emotion.
Aizen's reaction was even more intense. He witnessed Liu Hao destroy the Hōgyoku, and an unprecedented sense of terror surged within him. It wasn't because of the Hōgyoku itself—after all, it was Kisuke Urahara's creation, not his. What terrified him was the power Liu Hao displayed, the ability to easily erase the existence of the Hōgyoku.
What does that ability mean? It means that Liu Hao's understanding of the Hōgyoku has reached an incredible depth. It means that Liu Hao's control over power has surpassed conventional understanding. It means that if Liu Hao wanted to, he could easily destroy the Hōgyoku inside Aizen's body.
Just then, Aizen felt the Hōgyoku in his chest suddenly begin to glow. The light came suddenly, fiercely, and uncontrollably. Aizen could clearly feel the emotions of the Hōgyoku —fear, despair, and the instinct for survival.