Are You Going to Curse Me from Hell?

"Damn it!"

Shinji Hirako gripped Saka Nadachi's hilt so tightly that her nails nearly dug into her palm.

She watched Kurosaki Ichigo fall from the sky like a kite with its string cut and let out a low growl of bitter frustration.

Even Kurosaki Ichigo, on whom everyone had pinned their hopes, their final trump card, had fallen before Ross.

Shinji's heart sank. She racked her brain but could think of nothing in this world that could bring down the two men looming overhead like nightmares.

"Tap... tap..."

Soft footsteps sounded in midair, like a countdown to Soul Society's end.

With his hands in his pockets, Sosuke Aizen descended one unhurried step at a time, as though walking down an invisible staircase.

He was heading straight for the ruins where Shinji stood.

Across the entire square, barely any Rebels remained alive.

To Aizen, this was a play approaching its perfect finale.

If he did not catch up with this old friend now, he would lose the chance once the clearing was done.

"Captain Hirako."

Aizen stopped three steps from Shinji and looked down at her battered figure, a gentle smile touching his lips.

"Everyone else has left the stage. At last, we have a chance to talk in peace. A conversation between just the two of us, in the truest sense."

"Hmph... I have nothing to say to a heartless bastard like you!"

Shinji snorted, hatred burning in her eyes.

Clenching her teeth, she forced the last dregs of spiritual power from her body, raised her battered Saka Nadachi, and staggered forward to bring it down on Aizen's head.

Her body had already suffered fatal injuries in the earlier battle. Blood still seeped from the wound in her abdomen, and she had almost no Spiritual Pressure left.

But the instinct