What Are You Panicking For?

Half an hour later, First Division, the Captain-General's office.

A faint scent of sandalwood mingled with a barely perceptible trace of blood in the air.

"Tell me. What exactly happened to reduce you to such a pathetic state?"

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni sat cross-legged on the tatami mat. He did not even raise his head as he spoke in an even, unruffled tone.

He might have been domineering in his conduct, but he was no senile fool.

The lost look on Shunsui Kyoraku's face, the panic and self-doubt in his eyes—Yamamoto had never seen him like this in all the centuries they had known each other.

Clearly, something had happened during his battle with Unohana that had been enough to overturn this disciple's understanding of the world.

"Old man, I can't explain it to you right now! Please tell me immediately how to get to the Soul King Palace!"

Shunsui Kyoraku abruptly raised his head. His usual frivolity had vanished completely, replaced by unprecedented gravity and urgency.

After experiencing that kind of "silent scream of despair," he had developed an extreme distrust of the world.

Seeing was not necessarily believing, and hearing could be false as well.

He had even begun to wonder whether the teacher sitting before him was another illusion created by Aizen.

Faced with an unreasonable, rule-defying ability like Illusion, the only way he could think of to break the deadlock was to borrow a higher level of power.

The Soul King Palace!

Before an absolute gap in Spiritual Pressure, even Illusion should no longer have any effect.

"Answer my question."

Shigekuni Yamamoto lifted his eyelids slightly. His tone remained calm, though it carried a hint of chill.

"Those spectators in the Soul King Palace who never lift a finger may not be your salvation."

As he spoke,