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The piercing wail of the alarm split across the Seireitei, rattling the calm with a frequency that sent shivers down the spines of every squad. From the outermost watchtowers to the inner barracks, Shinigami jerked to attention, boots thudding across stone as the divisions scrambled to react.
"What happened?! What's going on?! Is this a twisted response from a travel accident?! Who the hell triggered this?!"
The term "twisted response," coined by the Technology Development Bureau, referred to foreign spiritual interference—anomaly spikes created when unauthorized souls breached the Kōryū Gate. Such events, termed travel disasters, were classified as direct invasions from the living world into Soul Society, typically through warped dimensional rifts caused by either deliberate or unstable means. The protocol for all such intrusions remained unchanged: eliminate on sight.
Sixth Division – Training Grounds.
Renji Abarai stood motionless within the dojo, staring at the sealed form of his Zanpakutō while the reverberations of Su Li's cryptic words looped again and again through his head like static refusing to fade. His brow tightened, the edges of uncertainty pressing in harder than any training blow, and the confusion only deepened with every passing moment as he muttered under his breath, trying to extract meaning from the phrase about the "use" of something.
Clenching his fists, his mind raced to connect fragments of past conversations, but every logical step unraveled as quickly as it formed, disintegrating under the impossible question now pounding in his skull, weighed down by the sinking realization that Su Li had once again seen farther than he could even imagine.
Fifth Division – Captain's Quarters.
Deep within the stillness of the captain's room, Aizen Sousuke stood with perfect poise, one hand raised as he listened to the intercom's broadcast play out across the Gotei 13. A slow, knowing smile curled at the corner of his lips, his demeanor calm, but the sharp flicker in his eyes betrayed the storm beneath, while his words slithered softly into the air like a prelude to chaos, calling this moment the entrance of a new piece on the board.
Behind him, a deceptively cheerful voice broke the quiet with playful curiosity, as Ichimaru Gin leaned against the doorway, eyes unreadable, grin stretching wider, weaving a current of mischief and danger into the still air between the two captains.
Aizen didn't turn, his gaze fixed on the open sky where the illusionary veil of the Soul Barrier shimmered faintly, cast from the Jidanbō Wall, covering the Seireitei like an invisible dome of protective magic. When he finally spoke again, it was with gentle authority as he instructed Gin to intercept, not destroy, the intruders—a command that twisted protocol with unnerving precision.
Gin's grin twitched as he echoed back the unspoken question in mock confusion, but Aizen's response left no room for deviation, his soft-spoken words carrying absolute command, and after a pause heavy with understanding, Gin turned and walked away, every step echoing the cold assurance that something irreversible had just begun.
Aizen followed him onto the balcony, where the barrier stretched endlessly above, and with a whisper imbued with ominous anticipation, he addressed the one figure who could disrupt it all—Kurosaki Ichigo—inviting him into the game with an almost tender menace.
Second Division – Vice-Captain's Office.
A heavy silence lingered between Su Li and Sui-Feng, both having absorbed the full weight of the broadcast and now staring at one another through the fog of layered thoughts and unspoken implications. Rising from her seat with military clarity, Sui-Feng stated the obvious and gave the expected order, instructing that they return to their district to await deployment, but her motion stalled as she noticed the look on Su Li's face—a subtle, unnerving smile that didn't match the chaos unfurling outside.
His expression, marked by a glint in the eyes and a strange brightness in posture, gave the unsettling impression of someone whose prophecy had just come true, and though the words he spoke made little sense, she felt in her bones that they were not random. Su Li had known. Not guessed. Known.
Suddenly, all his prior behavior—withdrawal, silence, disregard for routine—felt like calculated steps in preparation for this singular moment, and guilt surged through her as she recalled the petty resentment she had harbored, the deliberate leave she had taken just to spite him. She opened her mouth to ask what came next, only for him to cut her off, deep in thought, his expression caught between mischief and clarity as if dredging the next move from the fog of memory.
Then, with a jolt of recognition, he snapped his fingers, turned to her with gleaming excitement, and asked which gate Sidanfang guarded. When she answered "Baidaimon," the response was immediate and kinetic—Su Li seized her hand, pulled her up, and bolted toward the door with startling speed, dragging her into the sky with such momentum that she could barely process what was happening.
Though flustered, Sui-Feng managed to ask why they were heading toward Baidaimon, and Su Li, now grinning like a boy racing toward a firework display, simply called it "the show," leaving her to chase him through the air, half-exasperated, half-awed by the storm she knew they were flying straight into.
Seireitei – West Gate – Baidaimon.
A mountain of muscle and resolve stood before the gate, wielding axes the size of carts as he roared with each swing, his voice booming louder than the crashing steel. Jidanbō, guardian of the western gate, unleashed a storm of attacks meant to pulverize anything in his path, but Kurosaki Ichigo met every strike with unwavering resolve, refusing to fall, even as the stone beneath his feet cracked under pressure.
Orihime's breath caught in her chest as she watched from a distance, the fear in her eyes mirroring the weight of the moment, while Ishida, ever analytical, dismissed the display as a necessary test of worth. Chad, silent as ever, stood beside them like a pillar, his presence heavy with loyalty and readiness, never once looking away from the battlefield.
The dust from the eleventh blow settled to reveal Ichigo still standing, and in that moment of disbelief, Jidanbō roared with renewed fury, producing a second axe and proclaiming his own name like a war chant before lunging again. Ichigo, steady as iron, countered with a single phrase, warning that the axe would not survive what came next.
Steel shattered. Silence followed.
Jidanbō collapsed to his knees, awe overtaking his defeat, and in a gesture of warrior's honor, he lifted the colossal gate and allowed the intruders to pass, while Ichigo offered gratitude with a nod—though the moment of triumph was short-lived.
The ground trembled. Jidanbō began to shake.
Ichigo turned, eyes narrowing as a figure in white emerged from the mist—a captain's haori billowing in the wind, a fox's smile curling with quiet malice. Jidanbō recognized the man immediately, his voice faltering as he named him, and the response came without hesitation.
"That's not allowed."
The words, spoken by Ichimaru Gin with eerie softness, preceded a slash so swift that Jidanbō's arm fell cleanly away, the shock of it paralyzing the air. Ichigo surged forward in fury, shouting, but Gin didn't even flinch. He didn't acknowledge him.
Instead, he lowered into a stance, whispered a command with chilling serenity, and unleashed Shinsō.
A white lance of energy tore across the gate, blasting both Ichigo and Jidanbō backward into the valley beyond, and before the echo of impact faded, Baidaimon slammed shut with finality.
From a nearby rooftop, two figures landed just in time to witness the aftermath, breath stolen by what they had missed.
Su Li stared at the dust-choked horizon, disappointment tightening his jaw as he cursed their delay, while Sui-Feng's narrowed eyes settled on Gin, who stood alone amid the silence, smiling like a man who'd just turned the page of a book he knew no one else could read.
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