Bazz-B spoke quickly, words flowing one after another as if the weight of years pressed to escape from his chest. His tone was harsh, yet the structure of his explanation was strangely meticulous. Though some parts wound in circles, Mazuru listened in silence, his sharp mind sorting through the clutter and finally grasping the true essence behind what the quincy called their method of seizing a shinigami's Bankai.
If one were to liken a Zanpakutō to a sealed lock, then Bankai was the full release of that lock — the moment the soul within was completely unbound, and all the power that slept inside it burst outward.
And the medallion held in the hands of the quincy masters — that object was the counterfeit key.
Through the perfect imitation of the reiatsu frequency unique to every Shinigami and Zanpakutō, the quincy's badge deceived the liberated spirit. The Zanpakutō, torn from its host during release, would then mistake the imitation for the genuine pulse of its master's soul. Confused by the false signal, it would obey the counterfeit command — and the medallion would seal it back inside itself.
To an outsider, the logic sounded absurd, almost laughable. But in the realm where souls dictated reality, what was "impossible" had long ceased to have meaning.
Mazuru thought of Muramasa — the Zanpakutō that had once driven countless blades to rebel against their masters. Compared to that phenomenon, this principle felt almost reasonable.
When a shinigami entered Shikai, the spirit of their blade slumbered within them, resonating perfectly with the host soul. But when the blade ascended to Bankai, the Zanpakutō's spirit was forced outward, given form and personality, standing beside or around its wielder like a manifested guardian. It was a greater liberation — but also a greater vulnerability.
At that moment, the connection between wielder and weapon existed only through the thread of spiritual pressure.
And the medallion — that precise, cold instrument — could mimic that pressure flawlessly.
The Zanpakutō was loyal beyond logic. When its master called, it answered. When its master ordered, it obeyed. If the pulse of the soul it recognized told it to return, to submit, to fall silent again — it would comply without hesitation.
Thus, when the quincy presented the false signal, the spirit blade would willingly suppress its own strength, folding its might back into what it believed was its true vessel.
It was an elegant theft — a deceit not of the body, but of the soul.
'Incredible… truly incredible.' Mazuru thought, a spark of reluctant admiration in his eyes.
He had underestimated the intellect of the Invisible Empire.
For most captains, Bankai was not merely a weapon but the very definition of their identity — the highest proof of mastery, the reason they stood among the Gotei 13. To rob them of that power was to strip away their name, their pride, their existence as shinigami.
If quincy could truly perform this act in battle, they could turn the tide of war in an instant.
It was no exaggeration to say that the moment a captain's Bankai was sealed, victory and defeat would already be decided.
Yet, Bazz-B was not blind to the flaws in their method.
After taking a Bankai with the medallion, the quincy who wielded it could no longer enter Vollständig, their perfected holy form.
The reason was simple — the quincy's body became tainted. The borrowed power of Bankai was fundamentally incompatible with the sanctity of their holy state.
Once the two energies mingled, their spiritual composition could no longer be considered pure quincy.
In other words, the shinigami's power that had been absorbed into their body now hindered their ability to fully awaken their own.
Moreover, the method itself was not universal. It relied on centuries of careful observation — thousands of hidden studies and collected samples of reiatsu from shinigami who had used Bankai throughout history. Every seal succeeded only because that data existed within the badge.
That meant: only knownBankai could be stolen.
Those whose Bankai had never been witnessed or measured were immune.
Among the captains, there were many such individuals — those whose powers had never once been observed by the eyes of the Invisible Empire.
Ukitake Jushiro, Kyoraku Shunsui, Urahara Kisuke, Shihoin Yoruichi, Unohana Retsu, Zaraki Kenpachi... names heavy as mountains.
Each of them hid their final release from the world, either by choice or by circumstance. Some had released Bankai only within barriers or other realms, others had simply never been forced to reveal it at all.
To take their power, the quincy would first have to face them directly in battle — to fight, to endure, and to record their spiritual frequency in real time.
Only then could the medallion perform its deception.
The method, therefore, was powerful but not absolute. It was a blade of intellect and timing, not of certainty.
Mazuru listened, nodding faintly. "I suspect there are more than just those two flaws."
Bazz-B's eyes flickered. "What do you mean?"
"Earlier," Mazuru replied, "the man beside you attempted to take Tousen Kaname's Bankai—and failed."
Bazz-B's expression froze. During the battle, he had been preoccupied with Harribel, unaware of the others. Now, turning his gaze toward the glowing sphere where Masco's sleeping soul was bound, the realization struck him.
He had indeed used the medallion. It made sense — among all of them, only Tousen Kaname had once been shinigami.
"As you said," Mazuru continued, his voice low but steady, "the medallion works by mimicking the reiatsu of the wielder to mislead their Zanpakutō. Tousen Kaname, as the former captain of the Ninth Division, had already been observed by your people. There should have been no reason for failure."
He paused, letting the silence grow heavy. "But he failed nonetheless. Because Kaname accepted hollow power — his very nature changed. The frequency of his reiatsu shifted. The medallion could no longer imitate it."
The principle was simple.
The sword remained the same, and even the Bankai's ability unchanged, but its owner's soul had transformed. The counterfeit frequency no longer matched, and the illusion shattered.
"In other words," Mazuru concluded, "your stars are useless against people like Kurosaki Ichigo and the Visored."
All of them shared the same trait — the mark of duality, the fusion of hollow power within.
Hearing this, Bazz-B's soul seemed to tremble faintly.
If Mazuru was correct, then the Invisible Empire's perfect plan was far from invincible. The war they dreamed of might not unfold as easily as Yhwach imagined. Even if Ichigo and the Vizards lived in the Human World, their ties to the Soul Society ran deep. If the Gotei 13 ever faced annihilation, they would not stand idle.
For a moment, Bazz-B's expression clouded with thought — then softened with bitter irony.
'Why am I worrying about them?' he realized. 'I'm already dead. Let them burn.'
If anything, he wanted to see Yhwach crumble.
After Mazuru uncovered the reasoning behind the quincy's theft of Bankai, he continued his interrogation with methodical precision.
He asked about the nature of the Schrift.
About what "holy" truly meant in the language of the Invisible Empire.
He asked how many members the Sternritters possessed, their powers, their ranks, and their flaws.
Finally, he asked the most dangerous question of all — the ability of Yhwach himself.
Many of these topics Mazuru had already discussed with Ishida Soken years ago, but repetition had its value. Information gained from a corpse was often truer than the words of the living. Perhaps from Bazz-B, he could extract something that even Soken had not known.
Bazz-B, knowing resistance was pointless, abandoned the last fragments of pride. He could no longer fulfill his mission, nor achieve the vengeance he'd once dreamed of.
If Mazuru wanted answers, he would give them. If only to plant a few more thorns in the flesh of the Invisible Empire before fading away.
And so he spoke — clearly, ruthlessly, without pause.
He told Mazuru about the composition of the Sternritters, about the Schrifts carved into their souls, and the countless forms of power born from Yhwach's blood.
He described those who served beside him — their strengths, their eccentricities, their arrogance.
A few names remained hidden, cloaked in mystery even from him. But Mazuru didn't need more.
Once he knew their abilities, he could deduce their weaknesses himself.
*****
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✓ Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited Me To Soul Society!
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