Just by standing there, Seiya was instantly locked onto by a flurry of intense killing intents.
He was quite literally the highest aggro target. In that regard, he outdid even Aizen by a mile.
Watching as Sui-Feng, Hitsugaya, Kyōraku, and others were intercepted one by one, it seemed like the story was gradually aligning with the original timeline again.
Seiya raised his right hand and rubbed his temple, muttering quietly to himself:
"Am I really that hated?"
"But of course, Captain Arima," Gin Ichimaru replied with his trademark smirk, standing beside Seiya.
"After all, even if Aizen Sōsuke is the one in charge, you were the one pulling the strings. You deceived a lot of people."
"…"
That felt off somehow. But judging by the facts, it was hard to refute.
In this timeline, where Seiya actively participated, he had indeed changed far too much. Enough to become the focal point of everyone's hatred.
A self-made calamity, in a sense.
"By the way, why are you still just standing here? Don't you have some personal affairs to wrap up?"
Like Tōsen, who instinctively gravitated toward Komamura and Hisagi, destined to clash with them without anyone having to say a word.
Gin just shrugged lazily at the question.
"I don't have anything that messy to deal with. All that love and hate stuff doesn't matter much to me~"
Just as he said that—
A familiar voice rang out nearby.
"Gin…"
Seiya turned his head to see Rangiku Matsumoto standing at the edge of the battlefield, face torn between emotions.
The usually carefree, flirtatious blonde now looked dead serious, gripping her zanpakutō with a conflicted gaze fixed on her childhood friend.
"…"
Gin stopped smiling.
Seiya, unwilling to let a golden opportunity slip by, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted teasingly:
"Oi, you two stubborn idiots! Just confess already!"
"…!!!"
Rangiku nearly dropped her sword; Gin actually lowered his head in silence.
"I'll settle this quickly…"
"No rush, take your time."
As Gin's back disappeared into the distance, Seiya's smile gradually faded.
The battle in Karakura Town held no particular meaning anymore.
They didn't need the Ōken. Aizen's group could've attacked the Royal Palace anytime by other means.
But that kind of underhanded assault wouldn't have sat well with their followers—or themselves.
The bonds they carried, unresolved pasts—they needed closure.
Just as Yamamoto had said: until now, everything was merely a struggle between the old and the new Gotei 13.
Seiya took a deep breath and dropped his right hand to the hilt at his waist.
Watching on served no purpose anymore. He had his own part to play.
His zanpakutō hung at his side. He grabbed the hilt with his right hand.
The one to face Yamamoto…
Was him.
With a single step forward, Seiya's figure flickered, vanishing like a phantom, reappearing beside Aizen in the blink of an eye.
Yamamoto's expression remained unchanged—except for a slight narrowing of his gaze.
"…"
He stayed silent, letting his grip on his sword speak for his stance.
Aizen glanced at Seiya's right hand and smirked faintly.
"Not going to settle your personal affairs first, Seiya?"
For someone as arrogant as Aizen, the past held no sentimental value.
But Seiya was different—he had too many emotional entanglements, even more than Tōsen or Gin.
"Stalling the Head Captain isn't difficult. During that time, you're free to act."
Aizen wouldn't judge his subordinates' personal decisions.
But he would show concern when appropriate.
Seiya appreciated the thought.
Still, he responded with a sheepish grin, raising his hand to scratch the back of his head.
"Don't be fooled by how I look… I'm actually really thin-skinned."
Better to face Yamamoto than endure glares and condemnation.
Avoidance might be cowardice, but it was effective.
"I see."
Without commenting further, Aizen closed his eyes and drifted backward, rejoining the formation.
Like the captain of a great ship, he remained calm and poised.
He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
The Garganta writhed open, vomiting out hordes of Menos Grandes that plummeted toward the ground.
"What the hell is that?!"
"That many Menos?! Vice-Captains or higher are needed to deal with those!"
"Don't retreat! As seated officers, it's our duty to hold the line and protect the others!"
The Menos were meant to cause chaos.
They weren't a threat to top-tier fighters, but they'd rattle the nerves of the lower ranks—and that was the point.
Tactical manipulation. Aizen's specialty.
While many fought Arrancar of high rank, the mood among the Shinigami wavered.
Aizen's plan was working.
But just as battle was about to erupt—
Everyone turned their heads to the barrier's edge.
A new spiritual pressure flared. Familiar, yet unexpected.
More intruders?
Shinigami and Arrancar alike paused, eyes drawn to the newcomers.
"Who are you?!"
The leading man unsheathed his zanpakutō and flashed a mocking grin.
"Just some wanted criminals passing through~"
The Visoreds.
They arrived a little late, but their role hadn't changed.
"Outdated rebels cleaning up the mess of the new regime. Do I really need to explain our intentions?"
Hirako Shinji placed a hand to his face—
A burst of Hollow power erupted, enveloping his spiritual pressure in the twisted aura of a Vizard.
The others followed suit, forming a wall to hold back the descending tide of Menos.
A bit unexpected.
But not enough to matter.
Aizen gave them only a passing glance before turning away.
Just more dust to wipe clean.
They wouldn't affect the outcome.
And he wouldn't let such trifles distract from the true battlefield.
"Then, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni is yours, Seiya."
He didn't even mention the Visoreds by name—because to Aizen, they were irrelevant.
Classic Aizen.
Seiya had wanted to exchange a few words with Shinji, but the current atmosphere didn't allow for it.
He sighed and turned his focus back to the moment.
"Alright, I'll handle things here."
Seiya shifted his stance and smiled with complete confidence.
"Ho…"
Yamamoto's face, normally stern and unreadable, relaxed into a rare smirk.
A low murmur escaped him.
Then his gaze locked on Seiya.
"Not going to gang up on me? I won't be holding back."
Indeed—
Yamamoto was Soul Society's strongest fighter, and wielder of its most destructive zanpakutō.
Even Aizen had needed to delay his awakening of the Hōgyoku to create a countermeasure.
His strength was legendary.
So what did Seiya have?
He wasn't even that old. Barely over a hundred.
He'd been a captain, sure. Trained fast, accomplished plenty. Flattened the Seireitei once.
But Yamamoto?
He could vaporize all of Soul Society if he wanted.
Was this really a fair fight?
That question hung over everyone present.
Every other skirmish was mere prelude.
"Both of us? That'd be a bit unfair. Besides, we've got unfinished business."
Seiya unsheathed his zanpakutō, blade gleaming.
He held it vertically before him, dividing Yamamoto's silhouette in half.
With a reflective tone, he said:
"My thanks-for-everything gift isn't quite done yet."
To conclude what was started that day—
To put a period on his journey through Soul Society.
This was Seiya's resolve.
Yamamoto said no more. He simply leveled his blade.
The deep purple hilt and oval guard gave it an ancient, weathered feel.
Like its master, a symbol of unyielding tradition.
"Such conviction does not betray my teachings."
And Yamamoto would not betray that spirit either.
All returns to ash…
Ryūjin Jakka.
BOOM!!!!!!
Like a volcano erupting in the sky, searing flames burst forth, seeming to swallow the heavens themselves.
More intense than even the Seireitei battle, the force of the clash made Kyōraku wince.
He's serious now… the old man.
Meanwhile, just outside the barrier—
Kisuke Urahara, collaborating with Mayuri and obeying Soul Society's command, watched from afar, sweating nervously.
"What a bunch of troublemakers…"
He'd expected chaos, but not this quickly.
Tessai, maintaining the barrier's spiritual integrity, looked tense as well.
"Urahara-san, are you sure this won't get worse?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure."
Normally, Kisuke would joke. But now wasn't the time.
If the barrier broke, the unleashed energy would obliterate the human world.
The stakes were too high.
Still… Kisuke wasn't too worried about the barrier's strength.
"We've been prepping this thing for months."
As part of their reinstatement, Kisuke and company had been asked to build the strongest containment ever.
Opening the Garganta was one part.
The other: construct the toughest 'octagon cage' to date.
Built with one goal: endurance.
Even Yamamoto's Bankai would be contained.
Kisuke adjusted his hat and offered a weary, self-deprecating smile.
"Honestly, there's probably no better place in the Three Realms for them to go nuts."
Inside the barrier, Seiya watched the inferno rise into the sky.
He couldn't just stand there.
It was time to show what he had.
Reversing the blade, Seiya released his grip.
"Churn the seas and stir the earth."
"Reveal thy true might, dispelling all delusions."
Under the astonished gazes of many—
Seiya didn't go Bankai.
He returned to his roots.
And spoke, after so long, the name of his Shikai:
"Awaken thyself—Sāgara Ryū."
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Powerstones?
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