The monstrous bird suspended in midair suddenly stiffened, every feather on its neck standing on end.
Lille Barro's misshapen bird head slowly drooped, the light within its round yellow holes falling into disarray.
Beside the pile of rubble that should have been reduced to charred debris, that white figure stood with unhurried composure.
Sōsuke Aizen's specially made restraint robe was as smooth as new, without the slightest scorched puncture mark on his chest.
Not only that, but at that instant, faint ripples like those on water spread through the air throughout the ruined gallery.
The pillars vaporized by the defense-ignoring white light had, at some unknown point, risen around the courtyard once more.
The smooth, level marble floor was entirely intact, and even the shattered vault stretched silently across the sky.
There were no craters, no embers, and no dust flying through the air.
Lille Barro frantically swiveled his multiple eyeholes, looking toward the broken corridor walls farther away.
Nanao Ise, who should have died with a beam through her heart, stood unharmed at the edge of the stone platform.
That so-called Eighth Kenpachi, Sōya Azashiro, had his long sword hanging securely at his waist and was gazing up at the sky with an indifferent expression.
As for Shunsui Kyōraku, who had been obliterated by several sacred beams, he casually held his lowered bamboo hat, his single eye carrying the leisurely air of a spectator.
Every fallen Soul Reaper stood safe and sound in their original position.
An absurd, eerie tranquility filled the entire hall.
"How... how is this possible?!"
Lille Barro let out a strange cry, his eight wings of light trembling rapidly in the air.
"Weren't you all reduced to ashes by God's light?!"
"This is impossible! I pierced your spiritual cores myself and erased your flesh and