Death is not the end — forgetting is.
When the "resurrected" Reishi were decomposed again, these once-proud nobles finally remembered their old fear of subjugation. Familiar faces vanished one by one, devoured and broken down by tree-like black shadows until nothing remained.
Terror filled their faces as curses turned to desperate pleas. Some even attempted to force nonexistent tears, hoping to sway the youth's resolve.
But their theatrics earned no mercy, only hastening their second death.
"Akira, do you hate these nobles?" Aizen asked calmly from the side, "They don't seem to bear any grudge against you."
Hearing this, Akira's movements paused briefly as he sighed and answered honestly.
"It's not that I hate nobles. Good and bad exist in every group, nobles included. In the Sakahone District, I've witnessed both cruel murderers and compassionate nobles. I simply despise those of poor character."
As he spoke, his hands moved ceaselessly, commanding the tree-like ink-black shadows to decompose these dead souls once more.
Unlike their first death, Akira deemed it too lenient to let these inferior beings simply die. Instead, he chose to sacrifice them all to the One-Eyed God Mimihagi, forever stripping away their right to reincarnate and casting them into death's eternal darkness!
The nearby Azashiro family members required no intervention — they would vanish with the sacrificial power. After all, gathering the dead's Reishi to manifest them in this world was no true resurrection.
Watching the aggressive and domineering Akira, Aizen's gaze lowered, his tense expression softening slightly.
Though typically carefree, at his core, this young man wasn't truly malicious. Perhaps this way of living was the path to ultimate happiness.
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In the dark prison, mottled bloodstains decorated the black walls, with dried chunks of flesh scattered across the stone-paved floor.
The execution ground had been abandoned for decades by Central 46's decree after the brutal slaughter of the nobles who once sat in its high seats.
But now, two white figures appeared in the prison. The first wore a pristine Captain's haori, the second wore tattered prison clothes.
Yet their demeanors formed a stark contrast with their attire.
Wearing the white Captain's haori, Sōya nervously gazed at the familiar yet strange face before him, words caught in his throat, palms sweating. Even facing the previous Kenpachi Kurayashiki hadn't made him this nervous.
"Is that... little Sōya?" Confusion flashed in the girl's eyes, as if she couldn't comprehend her current state or the strange familiarity she felt toward the man before her.
Without hesitation, she walked up to him, her thin scarred hands tightly gripping his large ones.
In that moment, the girl smiled, her familiar gentleness appearing on her gaunt face like a bright light dispersing all darkness from the prison.
"It really is little Sōya. Though your hands have grown much larger and gained some calluses, you truly kept your promise to sister."
Sōya stared at the girl's face, opening his mouth to speak but finding his throat too tight for words.
"It seems many years have passed." The girl's right hand gently caressed his face, "You must have been so tired, carrying so many burdens all these years. Sister shouldn't have said those things back then. What's gone is gone — trying to hold on only brings pain, whether it's glory or hope. But since you're still alive, it means they really kept their promise. Sister is truly happy to see you again..."
⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬⤫⤬
Time slipped away unnoticed.
Once Sōya found his voice, though hoarse, the words poured out endlessly as he shared his years of experiences with the girl before him.
Then her figure began rippling like water.
Their expressions froze, and the prison fell into dead silence.
After a pause, the girl's lips curved into a smile, "Looks like time's up. What a shame — I didn't get to hear about your life as Captain."
Light emanated from her thin body, fragments drifting away like snowflakes, transforming into countless Reishi particles that slowly faded.
"Don't be sad, little Sōya. Seeing you grown up, sister has no regrets anymore." The girl smiled gently, "Let's make one final promise — live well, little Sōya..."
As her words faded, light flashed, and her ethereal figure shattered, dissolving before his eyes.
The emotions he had held back burst forth like a volcano. Beast-like wails echoed through the prison, his anguish tearing through his heart.
In the execution ground, Akira stood dumbfounded, staring in shock toward the sound.
"Sōsuke, I think we really traumatized him. Maybe we went too far?"
Aizen sighed wearily, "Please change 'we' to 'I' — you made and executed this plan. You ignored all my advice."
When this guy get stubborn, he's like an obstinate mule — completely impossible to reason with.
"Fine, Sōsuke." Akira's hands continued their fluid movements, "What you did was indeed excessive. Just this once — don't do it again, okay?"
Aizen fell silent.
"In the name of the Shrine Priest, Akira, I sacrifice to the One-Eyed God Mimihagi..." Akira's expression hardened as he chanted the sacrificial incantation. Materialized Reiatsu flowed before the altar, sketching Mimihagi's cold single eye, "Sacrifice the dead, release the power of the Divine Eye hidden in the Sakahone District."
The black shadows coalesced into a right hand with an eye growing in its palm, gathering countless lights within.
Suddenly, terrifying pressure swept forth!
Akira's face flushed with strain as he fought to control the black shadow, directing it into the altar's bell.
"Sōsuke..."
Enormous Reiatsu crashed down like a mountain torrent, rampaging through the execution ground. The black shadow, bound by this terrifying force, completed its final descent into the bell.
A black single eye slowly emerged on the bell's surface...
⤫⤬⤫
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