Chapter 176: It's Burning
Kisuke Urahara was not stupid.
As the first director of the Technology Development Bureau, he had always possessed a razor sharp instinct for research and development. In Soul Society, spirit particles were not merely fuel, they were the foundation of everything. All power in this world ultimately traced back to spirit particles, or more precisely, to the Soul King's cycle system.
That was why the Soul King's political structure was so difficult to break.
No matter how much people hated the nobles, the five great noble families were tied to the very creation of this world's framework. Their early rebellion, their decisions, their survival into the present, all of it formed a twisted kind of legitimacy. And the truth was even harsher.
Without the Soul King's anchoring and sacrifice, the worlds would have collapsed into chaos, or been swallowed by endless purgatory. That was the fate of this reality. The existence of the Soul King, and the system upheld by the great nobles, was the reason the world still continued at all.
Because of that, Kisuke had never seriously considered rebelling against the Soul King's rule.
Why?
Because for those who understood even a fragment of true history, this was the best ending available. Otherwise, what were they supposed to do? Become part of the Hollows that devoured everything? Become part of Hell? And then wait for the world to burn to ashes?
From beginning to end, there had only ever been one answer.
For Shinigami and for Soul Society, the Soul King system was the only answer. No matter their lineage, no matter whether the people in power were virtuous or corrupt, they would maintain it. They had to.
They had to preserve the chain of command so the world would not be shattered by someone's sudden whim. They had to ensure the Soul King Palace remained supreme, ensure someone could protect the Soul King, ensure the truth remained sealed away and undisturbed.
The logic was simple. If a system is functioning, you do not touch it unless you are prepared to gamble everyone's existence on what happens next.
Sosuke Aizen's original motive had been far simpler. He disliked having anything above his head. On impulse, he chose rebellion, and in doing so dragged along Tosen Kaname, who wanted only to spit in the nobles' faces, and Ichimaru Gin, who had his own reasons and could only walk forward.
And aside from them, nobody followed.
His reputation had been flawless. He had been admired, trusted, even adored. In theory, he should have had zealots lining up behind him. But in practice, what Aizen did was the equivalent of suddenly deciding to blow up the world.
Pure terrorism.
So extreme that even extremists would have called him excessive.
That was why Aizen felt so lonely. When most people are lonely, they seek companions. When Aizen is lonely, he toys with the idea of ending everything. Who could possibly stand beside someone like that?
And yet, even if everyone understood how rotten the nobility was, they still could not destroy the system.
Everyone knew the nobles were corrupt. Everyone knew there was decay and cruelty, abuse and filth behind polished titles. But power was not a decorative crown, it was a pillar. The moment that pillar lost its sanctity in the eyes of the masses, the order it maintained could collapse, and no Shinigami who knew the truth could tolerate that risk.
Imagine it.
You replace the nobles. You tear away the curtain. You expose the Soul King Palace, the Royal Guard, the hidden machinery, all of it. The gloom lifts, everything is clear, and people feel righteous.
So what?
Shinigami are not an organization of normal people. They might not be as reckless as shinobi, but they are hardly sane by ordinary standards either. If everyone can reach the Soul King Palace, then the probability of disaster multiplies. Even if someone guards it day and night, how do you guard against a thief for a thousand days?
So instead, the means to reach the palace remain limited. The truth stays in the hands of only a few. The rest are fed a carefully maintained set of misleading narratives and convenient truths. A group of nobles stand in front as shields. People rage at nobles, fight nobles, kill nobles, or let nobles devour each other, while the Soul King remains untouched.
The fewer who know the truth, the lower the chance that someone goes mad.
That was how the balance was maintained.
Soul Society was like a thin film held in place by the Soul King as a wedge. Once that fragile equilibrium broke, the world itself would cease to exist. In that situation, what option was more effective than mysticism, secrecy, and fear to deter any possible madness?
That was the best option.
Any intelligent person who saw the true data would instinctively choose to preserve the system, no matter how ugly it was. No matter how deformed. Because without it, everything ended.
That was why Kisuke had refused to join Aizen.
That was also why he had refused, for a long time, to even try to understand him. Anyone who sincerely tried to empathize with the logic of destroying the Soul King system was either unstable, or sick, or both.
The nobles did not want the system destroyed.
The Shinigami did not want it destroyed.
No one truly wanted to wake up and find their home swallowed by Hollows.
If Aizen had merely aimed to replace the five great noble families, if he had proposed a new hierarchy, a new set of masks and titles, he might have been unstoppable. Power could always be reshuffled.
But Aizen did not want to replace the nobles.
He wanted to replace the Soul King.
No wonder Soul Society had fought him with desperation. They had no choice.
And yet, all of those theories depended on one quiet assumption.
That there was no outside interference.
That everything remained inside a closed cycle.
The moment an external force appeared, a tiny, seemingly insignificant loophole opened in what had once looked unbreakable. It showed itself only to a few people, and it seemed to appear without logic.
But the instant Kisuke saw the compass on the table, his reaction went beyond words.
He did not see a trinket that could be shattered in one blow.
He saw possibility.
The possibility that the Soul King's political structure could disintegrate, washed away by waves that no one could stop.
Before, the value had been zero.
Now, no matter how many zeros stood in front of it, there was a one at the end. A real one. An actual chance.
Existence and nonexistence were not the same thing.
In front of that perfect, nearly indestructible system, a challenger had finally appeared. A challenger in the truest sense, capable of influencing the Soul King system.
"This is not something from this world," Kisuke said quietly.
"Of course," Aizen replied, smiling. "That is why I told you, I am not limited to this world."
Kisuke's fan had stopped moving. His eyes were locked onto the compass.
"Could I make use of the energy inside it? Or could you teach me how to use it, and refine it?"
"Sure," Aizen said easily. "I am not even certain whether chakra can be extracted naturally in this world, but I have already tested conversion. It works without any issues."
"It can convert spirit particles into the power it needs," Kisuke murmured, almost to himself. Then his voice sharpened. "Wait. I need something to test."
He stood up without another word and walked straight into the back of the shop, toward the place where his tools and prototypes were piled like junk that only he could understand.
Isshin, sitting cross legged on the tatami, stared at the table with the helpless expression of a man watching geniuses speak a language designed specifically to bully him.
"Oh, oh, what's wrong?" he blurted. "All I saw was Aizen toss some colorful disc on the table, and now you look like you're about to dissect the universe."
Kisuke did not answer. He was already rummaging.
On the table, Yoruichi, still in cat form, watched Kisuke's back. Slowly, a complex expression settled over her feline face.
"I don't know either," she said, her deep voice echoing strangely in the room. "This is the first time I've seen him like this. Aizen, what exactly did you bring out?"
"It is the little boy who exposed the emperor's new clothes," Aizen replied.
"Huh?"
The black cat frowned, her gaze turning wary.
She had never believed this Aizen was better than the original. If anything, her instincts screamed the opposite. Yoruichi's intuition was animal sharp, and it kept warning her that the gentle man smiling across the table was even more dangerous than the one she had known.
The Aizen of the past was arrogance at its peak, a ritualistic slaughter wrapped in contempt.
The Aizen sitting here now felt different.
Like someone enjoying the act of turning lives and convictions with his fingertips.
Maybe what he offered could be beneficial. Maybe it could even be called hope. But to Yoruichi, the feeling was colder than any blade. The old Aizen could twist circumstances.
This one could twist hearts.
What were the emperor's new clothes, and what did this "child" represent?
"Found it," Kisuke's voice cut in. "Let's test it."
He returned from the back holding a wooden rod pulled from the chaos of his tools and gadgets.
"This is the Spirit Conversion Rod," Kisuke said quickly. "It can refine and convert spirit particles in the air, allowing a Shinigami to regain combat capability for a short period. The method of use is unpleasant, it must be inserted into the user's anus for the conversion process. But the effect is reliable. If your chakra can convert spirit particles, this will show it."
It sounded exactly like Kisuke's worst habits given physical form.
And yet, it was also the kind of device that worked frighteningly well.
Aizen did not mock him. He simply took the rod, placed it beside the compass, and narrowed his eyes at Kisuke.
"What form of chakra do you want?"
"What does that mean?"
"Chakra has seven fundamental forms," Aizen replied, unhurried. "Five basic, and two higher. All transformations originate from these seven states. Fire, wind, lightning, earth, water, yin, and yang. Which do you want?"
Kisuke did not hesitate.
"If this is a first test," he said, eyes fixed on the compass, "then make it heat."
"The most direct expression of power. Burning. If I see that, I can confirm whether you are lying."
Aizen's smile softened, almost pleased.
"Even if you witness it and can never return, you still choose the same?"
Kisuke's jaw tightened. He said nothing.
Aizen continued, voice calm, almost gentle.
"Right now, you can treat me as an enemy. You can treat my words as a joke. That is rational. You can hate me correctly, because I am Sosuke Aizen, an enemy of Soul Society. As long as you keep that hostility, you have a stable path."
He leaned slightly forward.
"But once you see the transformation, you will have no retreat. And neither will I. Are you sure you want this, Kisuke? In that instant, you may destroy the people you care about, and everything you care about."
"I know," Kisuke snapped, the tension finally breaking through his voice. "Stop talking and do it."
"Urahara," Yoruichi said, her voice low.
She watched him shake his leg, bite his lip, stare at the compass like it was a cliff edge. It was the first time she had ever seen Kisuke like this.
Even when he entered the Maggot's Nest.
Even when he understood the sacrifices demanded by balance.
Even when he was framed and cast out.
He had never looked anxious.
He had always seemed in control.
Seeing him like this made something twist in Yoruichi's chest.
She had seen that expression before.
On Mayuri Kurotsuchi's face.
When he stared at his own inventions with fanatic hunger.
What kind of thing could make Kisuke wear the same look?
"Listen to me," Yoruichi warned, still in cat form. "This Aizen does not have good intentions. He has set something up."
Her pale eyes narrowed.
"Remember how Aizen gained trust before, using deception. This could be the same. No matter how precious it looks, do not exchange your judgment for it. Aizen is not trustworthy."
"This time is different, Yoruichi," Kisuke said, voice tight. "Completely different."
"Urahara!"
"I'm sorry," Kisuke said, and his words were honest enough to sting. "But I want to see it. I want to know whether those things truly exist. If they do, then we talk about what comes next."
Even he sounded as if he were convincing himself.
Then, before Kisuke could spiral further, Aizen moved.
He did not care about the tension between old friends. Isshin had no reason, and no authority, to stop what he did not understand.
Aizen placed the Spirit Conversion Rod beside the compass and activated the conversion by circulating chakra.
And in front of everyone, flame appeared.
Slowly, quietly, from the point where spirit particles should have been refined and released.
It was not spiritual fire.
It was not an ordinary flame.
It was unfamiliar in a way that made the room feel wrong. No spiritual particles. No recognizable signature. No trace of Hell, no Hollow pressure, no Shinigami presence, no fragment of the Soul King's power.
A flame that should not have existed in this world flickered in front of Kisuke's eyes, delicate enough that it looked like a breath could extinguish it.
Kisuke stared at it, and something in his expression hardened into certainty.
Then he turned to Aizen and spoke with decisive clarity.
"Transfer a portion of your chakra to me for research. I need to determine its form, and the exact method of extraction."
"Of course," Aizen said, smiling wider. "That is why I came."
To the side, Yoruichi's cat face tightened into visible disappointment. She hopped off the table, silent as smoke, and vanished from the room.
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