The Charge Against a God

"Shinji!"

Shinji Hirako, Kensei Muguruma, and Nemu Kurotsuchi let out heart-rending screams.

"You bastard!"

Without a moment's hesitation, all three drew their blades. Their Spiritual Pressure erupted as they charged Unohana, grief and fury driving them forward.

This was their choice.

The Visored had never been cowards who clung to life.

Death was all they faced!

They would fight to their last breath!

As the three rushed her like madmen, Unohana's expression did not waver. She merely drew her Zanpakuto, slowly and gracefully, as though admiring plum blossoms beneath the moon.

In that instant, space seemed to freeze.

No blades flashed or crossed. There was not even the sharp ring of steel meeting steel.

A long, clear note sounded, enough to make the soul tremble.

As the blade cleared its sheath, a silver ripple too swift for the eye to catch spread through the narrow alley.

Shinji Hirako, Kensei Muguruma, and Nemu Kurotsuchi stopped midcharge, suspended in the air like a scene put on pause.

Then—

Slice! Slice! Slice!

Three blood-red flowers bloomed from their chests at once, beautiful and tragic.

Blood sprayed like mist, catching the dim moonlight with an eerie beauty, as though this were an exquisite offering to death.

Their bodies fell like kites with severed strings and struck the cold stone. Blood spread rapidly, staining the silent alley a glaring crimson.

Nemu Kurotsuchi and Kensei Muguruma still held the postures of their charge, but that unseen slash had destroyed their hearts. All life had left them.

Only Shinji Hirako still struggled to breathe amid the blood.

A wound deep enough to expose bone crossed her chest, and blood poured from it, but her heart kept beating.

She was alive.

For a Shinigami, it was barely even a serious wound.

"Heh... ha..."

Shinji clutched her wound. Warm