"We need new aid!"
The hoarse words sounded somewhat faint in the fierce wind.
Looking at Yoriichi, whose face was pale and who struggled even to stand, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto slowly approached with his cane.
Although the rift above the Seireitei had stopped spreading, its destructive pressure still weighed on everyone's heart.
The rivers that had flowed backward still hung suspended in midair, and the ruined buildings spoke of the horror of the disaster that had just struck.
The old man's gaze swept over the enormous black hand locked in place by dark golden divine markings in the sky, finally settling on the trembling back of Yoriichi's hand.
"You sacrificed most of your core power to stabilize this world on the verge of collapse."
Yamamoto paused, then asked gravely, "Do you think it was worth it?"
"It isn't a question of whether it was worth it."
Yoriichi leaned against the broken half-wall beside him, his gaze likewise turning toward the sky. "If I hadn't done that, the Three Realms might have been destroyed before Yhwach fully arrived."
"The Soul King is already dead."
His tone was calm. "Without the world's wedge, this space simply wouldn't last until Yhwach finished absorbing the Soul King's essence."
"If that moment came, every living thing in the World of the Living, Hueco Mundo, and Soul Society would fall into the turbulent currents of the void."
"I won't allow these Three Realms to perish before my eyes."
Yoriichi withdrew his gaze and looked at the two veteran captains before him.
Yamamoto fell silent for a moment, a trace of weariness crossing his wrinkled face.
After the upheaval just now, everyone knew that the Gotei 13 had reached its final moment of life or death.
Shunsui Kyōraku pressed down the brim of his straw hat and