The Rules of This World Are Written by Night
Just as Aizen was about to touch the remains of the Soul King.
A furious roar suddenly shattered the oppressive atmosphere of the sky.
"Stop!!"
The next moment--
The deep space suddenly split open, and a scorching red light, like thunder at dawn, descended abruptly!
The sky trembled, the atmosphere boiled, as if the sun had fallen to earth!
The scorching spiritual pressure surged like a tide, tearing through space and burning the entire spiritual realm into a sea of fire that devoured everything.
--Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto.
The oldest embodiment of war in the Grim Reaper.
The last guardian deity of Soul Society.
Now, back on the battlefield.
He walked on fire, his hair and beard flying wildly, bearing the weight of millennia of loneliness and glory. In his hand was not a Zanpakuto, but a dragon-headed staff sword etched with the scars of time.
That was his will—the last vestige of faith in the Soul Society before its collapse.
Flames raged beneath his feet, each step igniting the remnants of spiritual pressure, transforming them into a horn of judgment!
He stood before the broken walls and ruins, his gaze intense, fixed on the figure in the center of the Soul King Palace ruins:
"... Sōsuke Aizen."
The sound was deep and thunderous, accompanied by the roar of flames.
"You actually... escaped from that seal."
His tone held no surprise, only a chilling murderous intent.
"You have already been sentenced once by this world."
"Since we can come back—this time, let's leave no ashes!"
Aizen descended the steps of the shattered throne slowly, his gaze still filled with disdain.
His tone was so indifferent, as if he were commenting on a speck of dust:
"Oh? You old bones aren't quite dead yet?"
"Soul Society... is still relying on you to hold things together, as expected."
His gaze swept across the tattered sky, like a god looking down upon a broken realm, a mocking smile appearing on his lips:
"How pitiful—even time seems to pass so slowly."
These words, like a knife, pierced through all the remaining hope that had not yet been extinguished.
In an instant, spiritual pressure roared.
Yamamoto said nothing more and slowly drew his sword.
That is the Shinigami's oldest Zanpakuto— Ryūjin Jakka.
The blade was first revealed, and Kakkō flew.
Flames scorched the sky, and spiritual particles flowed backward.
He uttered a single word:
"Swastika-- the Zanka no Tachi."
The world instantly lost its color.
Flames erupted like the end of the world, tearing the sky into a blazing white curtain of fire, the scorching temperature causing the flow of spiritual particles in the distance to come to a complete standstill!
With a swing of the Zanka no Tachi, the strikes required no charging; each strike was the fuse to the end of the world.
The First Slash – Spanning Heaven and Earth!
Flames poured down like a celestial river flowing backward, piercing through the entire Soul King Palace and carving an Aizen was located!
Aizen was engulfed by the flames, his form annihilated, leaving only the echoing roar of the inferno in the heavens and earth.
But the next moment...
The Kakkō distorted.
That was merely a "projection perception" being struck.
Aizen slowly appeared, his clothes undamaged, his spiritual pressure reflected like a mirror.
"These flames... cannot even burn away the phantom I stand in. What will you use to 'judge' me?"
He raised his hand and gently touched the remaining traces of the fiery cloud, extinguishing the sparks at his fingertips.
Yamamoto frowned deeply; the second move had begun!
"Eastern Infernal Hell - Rising Sun Refining Realm--!"
The eastern sky transforms into a furnace of blazing sun!
A spiritual fire at a temperature of 100,000 degrees Celsius pierced through the spirit realm from the Eastern Heavenly Pillar, forming a Purgatory that imprisoned the sun's true form!
Space distorted, spiritual pressure reverberated, and even the laws of time groaned.
However--
Aizen slowly waved his right hand, and Kyōka Suigetsu unfolded in the air, refracting a seventh-order engraving that resembled a ring.
"Kyōka Suigetsu - Seventh Stage of Power - Time Reversal Power"
The world suddenly tilted.
The flames are burning, yet they are not burning; time is moving forward, yet it seems to be moving backward.
Yamamoto's pupils contracted.
He witnessed firsthand Zanka no Tachi transformed from towering flames into a rusty, decaying piece of iron.
The flame-shaped flower slowly closed and eventually withered.
All traces of "burning" were stripped away, dissolved, and returned to the initial state of "never having happened".
"You actually... denied the process of combustion?"
Aizen spoke calmly:
"More accurately, it's about erasing the logic of 'continuity.' If combustion is 'continuous change,' then denying its continuity is tantamount to denying the inevitability of its existence."
The power over the origin of the world is subtly strengthening Aizen!
With a gentle flick of his finger, the remaining fiery clouds instantly froze, peeling away layer by layer into a data-like graph, like a deconstructed illusion.
Yamamoto felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat out a mouthful of burning blood from his soul.
But he did not fall.
The flames reignited, and he roared in fury:
"If you deny the burning of fire, then I will use my soul as fuel and transform myself into a seed of divine fire!"
His form exploded in the flames, transforming into a hundred-foot-tall fire lion— the Prison Flame Heavenly God!
With its lion head raised to the sky and roaring, and a thousand-flame dragon tail on its back, its imposing power was like the sky collapsing, and its roar shattered the Four Symbols Barrier!
Final Form -- Hellfire Lion Heavenly Origin!
He lunged down, unleashing a devastating rage that consumed logic and the world, hurtling towards Aizen!
The heavens and earth changed color, and all things were consumed in flames!
But Aizen merely raised his hand slightly.
"Eighth Order of Power: Essential Negation"
A gigantic, pale white Grim Reaper appeared behind him, wielding a scythe of the underworld, and swung it lightly at Yamamoto.
Quiet.
The flame went out not because it cooled down, but because its "essence" had been stripped away.
At that moment, the flames lost their "heat," their "light," and their "reason for existence."
Yamamoto's infernal body shattered like broken glass, and his soul's anchor was rewritten as "no heat source," "no existence," and "no purpose."
He knelt on the ground, his fiery body, heavy as a mountain, stripped away into a mortal form.
The God of Flames has fallen.
The anger in his eyes subsided, leaving only bewilderment and silence.
--Fire is no longer fire.
And he was no longer the one who guarded the fire.
Aizen slowly spoke:
"Yamamoto, this time, you've lost..."
In the distance, Jūshirō Ukitake watched everything unfold, blood welling in his throat, yet he gritted his teeth and held on.
"Captain... how could this be... the captain actually..."
Soi Fon knelt on the ground, tears blurring her vision.
She choked back tears as she questioned the truth that shook the entire audience:
"Sōsuke Aizen... just who... are you?"
Shunsui Kyōraku gripped his Zanpakuto tightly, his knuckles turning white, his steps faltering, his eyes filled with helplessness and resentment.
"Rukongai... really can't be defended anymore."
Ukitake murmured:
"We... we are simply powerless to resist his will..."
The battlefield has turned into an abyss of despair.
Aizen stood on the high platform, having not personally killed a single person, yet he destroyed the faith of everyone.
He denies that you are a warrior, denies that you have fire, denies that you can sense, denies the meaning of your existence.
He is not the destroyer.
He is the architect of a new myth.
At this point--
The guardians and rebels of Soul Society fell one by one.
Aizen stepped out lightly, the four cornerstones of the Laws appearing behind him, like all the gods submitting to their king.
He gazed at the remains of the Soul King, touched them with his palm, and immediately, the surface of the Soul King's body began to tremble violently, but the trembling quickly stopped.
Seeing this, Aizen looked at the others, his voice steady yet thunderous:
Truth is not about right or wrong.
"But who defines 'right'?"
"From this moment forward—the rules of this world shall be written by the night."