We are feared because we are formless,
And so, we swing our blades once more—
In the name of the Mask...
…
The tranquil night arrived as expected. The entirety of Karakura Town seemed to have fallen into slumber. There were no noisy crowds, no chattering birds— even the stray dogs that usually loved commotion were completely silent.
It was as if a transparent glass dome had been placed over the city, and the air was filled with a suffocating stillness.
The bright full moon hung plump and smooth in the sky, like a silver waterfall pouring down in torrents, illuminating every corner of Karakura Town with crystalline clarity.
"Tch… what a boring city."
In the 9th District of Motomachi, next to 13th Hachiran Street, a thin young man with blonde hair and a bowl cut stood atop a solitary telephone pole.
He wore a greyish-white shirt with a tie, dark trousers, and a flat cap adorned with a melon pattern. He was currently staring up at the depths of the night sky.
If Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto were present, he would have instantly recognized this man as Shinji Hirako—one of the Captains and Vice-Captains who "defected" from the Soul Society 110 years ago. He was the former Captain of the Fifth Division and the current leader of the Visored.
Under the cold moonlight, Shinji looked exceptionally gaunt, as if childhood malnutrition had left him as thin as a bamboo pole. However, his piercing dark grey eyes shone with a sharp light, burning like small flames in the dark.
A moment later, a dark cloud drifted by, slowly obscuring the moon. By the time the cloud passed, the Shinji Hirako on the telephone pole had long since vanished.
…
Clack, clack, clack—
Elsewhere, within the Seireitei of Soul Society, urgent wooden alarm knocks echoed through the silent night:
"Emergency broadcast! Emergency broadcast!
The First, Sixth, and Seventh Expeditionary Force in Hueco Mundo have encountered a large number of unidentified Arrancar-class Hollows and have been completely annihilated.
Given the gravity of the situation, the Captain-Commander of the Gotei Thirteen, Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, has convened an emergency Captains' Meeting. All captains and vice-captains are to report to Headquarters immediately.
Repeating: Emergency broadcast! Emergency broadcast! The Hueco Mundo Expeditionary Force..."
The captains swiftly donned their white haori and led their respective vice-captains toward Headquarters without delay.
"Captain! Captain! Captain Fūjin—!"
With a Hell Butterfly perched on his fingertip, Saitō Keichirō rushed into the captain's office on the ninth floor of Kaitō Building, calling urgently:
"Forgive the late disturbance, but the Captain-Commander—"
Slide—
The office door swung open.
Fūjin Taichi pulled his captain's haori from the wooden rack beside the door and slipped it on as he spoke:
"I know. Let's go, Keichirō."
"Yes! For a mere Third Seat to accompany the captain—this is the Saitō family's honor for three lifetimes—"
"Idiot, this isn't the time for jokes. Haven't you noticed?"
"Uh… noticed what?"
"The expeditionary force... they were practically annihilated!"
As he hurried forward, Taichi's tone carried concern.
"That means if we don't quickly organize a new expeditionary force to reinforce the Hueco Mundo front and contain those Arrancar-class Hollows…
Their next target may very well be Soul Society. And if Aizen takes advantage of that chaos to counterattack…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
The implication was terrifying enough.
"I apologize—please forgive my shallowness," Keichirō said, breaking into a cold sweat as realization struck him.
"No… words won't fix anything now."
Taichi shook his head slightly.
"I expect Old Man Yama will issue a general mobilization order to the divisions and station Shinigami in the Human World to prevent Arrancar infiltration—
Perfect timing. The 'Talent Transfer Plan and Detailed Roster for the Seireitei' I drafted earlier can finally be put to use. We'll take this opportunity to send them to the front lines for tempering."
"Yes, understood!"
Keichirō knew full well that Taichi intended to use this as a chance to remove the remaining loyalists of Kaname Tōsen and the fence-sitting Shinigami from the Ninth Division—under the noble banner of "structural optimization" and "continuous talent output to the Seireitei."
Whenever he thought about it, a chill crept into his heart.
Like cooking the hound once the rabbit is dead.
Would the day come when he himself became "mediocre"… and was likewise "transferred as talent"?
"Keichirō, don't feel sad about this."
Taichi seemed to sense his thoughts and spoke softly:
'If you make a mistake, own it; if you get hit, stand tall.' Since Tōsen chose a path contrary to the justice of the Seireitei, his followers are our enemies.
To be merciful to an enemy... is a cruelty far worse than hatred. To sympathize with an enemy... is an act more heinous than a massacre. What I am striking down and purging are the shameless, bottomless sycophants of the Tōsen faction—especially those black-clad creeps guarding the Shishinrō. I've wanted to kick them out of the Soul Society for a long time."
"…" Saitō Keichirō said nothing, but his thoughts gradually cleared. He realized he had just trapped himself in a dreadful mental dead end.
"We're here."
Fūjin Taichi stopped outside the Headquarters Assembly Hall and said to him, "Go rest in the side chamber for now. I expect… this Captains' Meeting will be a long one."
"Yes!"
Keichirō nodded and headed for the room, while Taichi smoothed the wrinkles in his Shihakushō and pushed open the heavy doors.
Creak—
The twin doors slowly opened.
Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto and the nine captains already seated inside all turned their gazes toward the entrance as Fūjin Taichi walked in with a faint smile.
"You… have finally arrived, Captain of the Ninth Division—Fūjin Taichi," Yamamoto said, both hands resting on his curved wooden staff. His left eye was closed, while his right eye fixed sharply on Taichi.
"My apologies, Captain-Commander! I've been working overtime day and night lately, so I arrived just a little late…"
"Tch. Of all the Gotei Thirteen, your Ninth Division is closest to Headquarters—yet you arrive later than Captain Ukitake, who lives in the outskirts!
You… don't seem to hold the Captain-Commander in much regard, do you, Captain Fūjin?" The sarcastic voice came from Mayuri Kurotsuchi.
"Oh? And how would a grotesque oddity who loafs around all day understand the hardships of a diligent captain?"
Fūjin Taichi calmly stepped into the row on the right and spoke as if genuinely puzzled:
"Honestly, I don't understand what certain divisions are busy with.
You claim to specialize in technology, yet Soul Society still doesn't even have Wi-Fi! Meanwhile, the Human World is practically in the year 3030, and Soul Society is stuck in the Jurassic era—
Communication relies on shouting, transportation relies on walking, public security relies on dogs, and even the most basic lighting still uses oil lamps and torches…
So tell me, Captain Kurotsuchi—what exactly are you researching? Do you understand universal gravitation? Have you studied relativity? How advanced is your mastery of mechanics and electricity?"
"You—what nonsensical things are you babbling about?! Are you questioning our Research and Development Institute—"
"Enough!"
Yamamoto's eyes flared wide as he thundered:
"At a time when Soul Society stands on the brink of survival, you still have the mind to quarrel over such trivial matters?! Have you no sense of decorum?!"
"!!!"
The assembled Shinigami fell instantly silent. Even Fūjin Taichi shifted his full attention to Yamamoto.
Then the Captain-Commander spoke in an unprecedentedly grave tone:
"It is now certain… that after fleeing to Hueco Mundo, Sōsuke Aizen and his cohorts have used some method to forcibly create Arrancar from Menos-class Hollows. For Soul Society, this will be a catastrophe of enormous scale.
Therefore, I hereby formally declare: effective immediately, the Seireitei enters a state of maximum war readiness.
All members of the Gotei Thirteen—are authorized to release their Zanpakutō at any time."