The autumn sunlight, golden and gentle, shone down on the scene, yet it could not warm the cold gleam of the blade. When light falls on a weapon poised to kill, even the sun itself seems to lose its warmth. The chill that radiated from Aizen's sword was palpable. It was the kind of strike that made onlookers feel an icy fear deep in their hearts, as if any moment they could be the ones at the mercy of the blade.
Krul knew better than to underestimate it. She realized in the instant she launched her attack that she had already fallen into a disadvantage. Her instincts, honed over years of training and life-or-death encounters, screamed a warning. She was well aware of Aizen's danger. He was like a lion stalking his prey, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness, his killer's intent smoldering beneath a deceptively calm facade.
