Illusion – Chap. 28

(Originally posted 8/10/12.)

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Aizen lifted his head and gazed directly at Ishida. "I did not learn those techniques from torturing your people. The reason I know so many secret Quincy abilities—is because I myself am half-Quincy. I learned those skills from my father."

Ichigo's mouth dropped open. "You what?" he demanded.

At the same time, Ishida spat, "You're lying."

Aizen gazed at Ichigo, completely ignoring Ishida. He leaned against a large boulder, his face completely relaxed. "Why do you think it was so easy for me to play a Quincy, or create an 'energy drink' of concentrated reishi, since you know the manipulation of spirit particles in that way is specifically a Quincy technique? And were you not surprised that a shinigami knew an ancient Quincy technique to break a dark kidou?"

Ichigo stared, and then flushed. Aizen was right. There had been plenty of evidence he was using Quincy techniques in a way no shinigami ever could. "I'm sorry… I thought…" he trailed off.

"That I was just lying again?" Aizen asked, a touch of amusement in his voice. "Don't worry. I know that I have not given you any cause to believe in my truthfulness." He turned serious again. "The truth is that only my mother was a shinigami." Abruptly, he broke off and looked sharply at a copse of burned-out trees, as though he had seen movement there. After a moment, he relaxed, though exhaustion was still written on his face.

Nervously, Ichigo followed his gaze, wondering if there was another threat coming that he needed to defend against. On the battlefield around them, there were nothing but dead bodies. From one of them, a finger of smoke curled into the still, dead air. All the sounds of battle had vanished, and the four of them were the only living creatures in sight.

The earth had been completely devastated and blackened. No animal stirred, no plant had survived. Only the bare rocks stood above the burned earth. Even the enhanced reiatsu density of the Spirit Realm seemed to have attenuated.

But after glancing around, Aizen shook his head and slowly lowered himself against a blackened boulder, wincing, and Ichigo realized that he was badly injured and very weak. Immediately, he knelt at the shinigami's side, holding his hands out over his torso. He could sense that Aizen's reiatsu was dangerously low. Despite his claims of immortality, it was clear that he had nearly reached the end of his reserves. Ichigo was quite certain Aizen had never been immortal, but it would certainly be no good to try to get a straight answer out of him.

He looked up at Gin and Ishida. "You two stand watch while I heal him," he ordered.

Ishida's eyes narrowed, but he lowered his bow. "I still want some proof that he's not lying," he demanded.

Aizen sighed as Ichigo's healing energy began to permeate his wounds. "Very well," he murmured. His eyes flicked from one to the other of the youths. "I'll give you the proof."

He took a deep breath and leaned against the rock. His voice, when he went on, was much softer. "My mother was born to one of the shinigami noble families, but she was exiled for consorting with a Quincy, our ancient enemies. She ran away and raised me in secret. I found out much later that my father did not even know of my birth."

Ichigo's hands moved over Aizen's body, tracing the worst of his wounds as he sensed the weaknesses in the man's spiritual pressure. He frowned. He had never seen his power this low. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern leaking into his voice.

Aizen's eyes were lidded. "I assure you, I'm quite fine, Ichigo," he murmured. "There is no need for concern."

"Turn over," Ichigo ordered as he saw a long slash along one of Aizen's ribs from front to back.

The man complied, then winced as Ichigo ran a finger over the gaping wound and sealed the edges together. "As you have learned, Ichigo, half-breeds tend to have incredible power," he continued softly, "due to the nature of our abilities, the combination of two strains that breaks down the barrier between each of the pureblooded capabilities. So I, too, am a hybrid, Ichigo—a Quincy-shinigami hybrid." His eyes met Ichigo's. "You even have a similar saying in the world of the living, Ichigo. 'Hybrid vigor.' It has to do with the strength of the crossing of two genetic lines that are very far apart, and the breaking of the barriers that separate two types of soul." He gave a long sigh as the edges of his flesh melded together under Ichigo's healing energy and sagged against the boulder. "Ah, thank you, Ichigo," he murmured. "That feels much better."

Ishida asked, still skeptical, "I have never heard of a Quincy-shinigami cross before. Are you the only one?"

Aizen sent him a neutral glance. "I don't know of any others either. However, I would not be surprised if any that existed kept their mixed blood secret, as I have. It has always been true in any society that half-breeds are shunned by both sides… they never belong in either world." He looked off into the distance for a moment and sighed. "Thus, my mother concealed the circumstances of my birth. When I was old enough, she pulled some strings among some of her former noble acquaintances—perhaps there was a spot of blackmail involved," he added with a raised eyebrow, "—to get me admitted directly to the Royal Academy, where they trained the Royal Guard."

"So the Seireitei Academy doesn't train all the Royal Guard?" asked Ichigo in surprise. His senses probed the area around Aizen's chest as he wondered if the hougyoku was still able to regenerate his body. He did not detect any energy in the device; it appeared to be sealed off. He frowned. Yet another topic he had not fully questioned the man about. He would need to do that at a later time. He sensed a weakening in one of Aizen's spirit centers and buttressed it carefully from the ambient reiatsu around them.

Aizen let out a sigh of contentment at Ichigo's ministrations and nodded. "Most of the Guard come directly from their own training academy. Children are tested for extraordinary levels of reiatsu density, and admitted based on that strength. The majority of the students there come from royal or noble families. Due to the circumstances of my parentage, I was passed off as a bastard of one of my distant cousins, who had died some years ago and could no longer defend her honor." His lips twisted in wry amusement as Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "I was shunned, of course, by those scions of more respectable parentage. But it did not matter to me, because I believed in my own abilities. I was ambitious. I wanted to achieve a spot on the Royal Guard, and my powers, even then, were so much greater than everyone else's that I quickly rose to the top of the class." His expression was serene and arrogant as always.

Ichigo sat back on his haunches, not bothering to hide that he was rolling his eyes at Aizen's egotism. He made one last quick scan over Aizen's power centers; everything seemed to be back to a low baseline level. He had done all he could do for the man; now hopefully his own innate powers would take over. He rested one hand on Aizen's wrist, telling himself he needed to check the reiatsu vents there.

Aizen, however, turned his hand over to clasp Ichigo's hand in his long fingers and smiled at him. "Thank you, Ichigo," he murmured. He played absently with Ichigo's fingers and the youth felt a flush come to his cheeks.

Aizen tightened his hold on Ichigo's hand briefly and continued, "It was around that time that the persecution of Quincies was beginning. My mother called me out of school one day, and when I went to her, she was on her deathbed. That was when she told me of my Quincy heritage, and gave me the name of my father. I later went to him in secret and confronted him." A reflective expression appeared on his face.

"We fought, and I defeated him. I was, even then, extraordinarily powerful." His lips curled. "After his defeat, he developed a grudging admiration for me. He was a cold man," he said, withdrawing his hand from Ichigo's, his eyes focused on the distance, his face impassive, "and the only thing that moved him was power. I believe he thought I might be of some use to him." Aizen's eyes darkened with the memory. "He agreed to teach me the Quincy techniques."

"I spent some time training with him, and after that, I returned to the Royal Academy, graduated top of my class, and was immediately offered a place on the Royal Guard."

"Wait," said Ichigo, struggling to contain all this new knowledge. "How old are you, really?"

Aizen smiled at him. "Older than I look."

Ishida spat, "How do we know you're not lying again? You could easily have gained all that information from captured Quincies, then made up this story to appease us." He glared at the white-robed shinigami.

Aizen looked at him dispassionately. Then he placed a hand inside his robes and slowly drew out a small object. Ichigo's eyes widened as he realized it was a Quincy cross, twin to the one he had seen Ishida carrying so long ago.

"How did you get that?" sputtered the dark-haired Quincy.

"It was given to me when I passed the Quincy tests," Aizen replied in a calm voice. "I can use it in the same way any full-blooded Quincy can."

Slowly, he got to his feet and took a deep breath. He held his palm out, the small five-pointed cross lying in the center of his hand. As Ichigo watched, the device began to glow and elongate, the spirit particles in the air gathering and being sucked into the device until it shone brightly. The others had to shade their eyes as the device turned into a brilliant Quincy bow five feet tall, blazing with the energy of a small sun.

As Ichigo extended his senses, he could identify the unique Quincy pattern in the swirl of particles, something he had only seen in Ishida's powers.

Aizen was telling the truth—at least about his Quincy powers.

Ichigo let out a long sigh, not realizing he had been holding his breath. Ishida, staring at the blazing bow, lowered his own.

Gin had been watching the entire time, saying nothing as Aizen made his explanation while Ichigo healed him. He stood quietly to one side, still sporting his immutable grin.

"You've known this the whole time," Ichigo said to him.

The silver-haired shinigami tilted his head, "Well, maybe not the whole time," he drawled. He glanced at Aizen. "It took a coupla decades for him to trust me enough ta tell me."

Aizen's eyes flicked to Gin but he said nothing as he lowered his hand and collapsed the bow. It winked out and the air around them seemed suddenly very dark. He put the cross back inside his robes.

Ichigo frowned, his mind swirling with questions. Where to begin? It seemed that Aizen was finally in the mood to give him some answers, and he wanted to take advantage of this to obtain the most valuable information possible.

"Does anyone else in the Gotei 13 know about this?" he asked.

"My Quincy heritage?" asked Aizen, smirking. "Well, you see I—" He broke off and turned his head suddenly. Ichigo jumped to his feet in alarm, and Ishida and Gin drew their weapons. Something was approaching.

All around them, the sky darkened, and then it felt as though a huge pair of lungs had sucked out all the air in the atmosphere.

They all staggered under the weight of a colossal new spiritual pressure that descended onto the battlefield with the finality of a massive block of iron.

Ichigo gasped, his breath coming short. It felt as though he were being squashed sideways, as though his lungs no longer had the ability to expand and take in air. His energy began to run out of him like juice being squeezed from an orange. It took all his effort simply to stand upright.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ishida and Gin lying crumpled on the ground. Only Aizen was still on his feet, but he was shaking and his blade had drooped under the horrific onslaught. As Ichigo watched, suddenly two figures appeared in front of Aizen. They were unaffected by the reiatsu attack. Quickly, they each reached out a hand to Aizen's sword, and a moment later, both of them had touched his blade. It took a while longer for Ichigo to realize that this negated the power of Kyouka Suigetsu.

And then it took several long seconds for Ichigo's burning eyes to realize he was seeing Urahara and Yoruichi.

He struggled to get back to his feet, gasping, to brace himself against the crushing spirit pressure. As he staggered upright, he realized the pressure was slowly fading, withdrawing. The other three got to their feet as well as they were released from the massive force.

Ichigo stared at Urahara, still wearing his green-striped hat and black haori with white diamonds along the hem. Behind him and slightly to his right stood Yoruichi, her purple hair in a high ponytail, her golden eyes somber. She was wearing a skin-tight black pantsuit with partial armor on her arms and legs just as when he had seen her last.

Urahara put a hand behind his head and gave Ichigo an apologetic smile. "Well," he said, looking at the four of them. "This fight seems familiar. We have the same participants as when we defended Karakura Town against Aizen's invasion."

Yoruichi said, frowning at Ichigo, "Except that the boy who was the hope of the Gotei 13 has inexplicably switched sides." Her eyes tracked over to Aizen. "The traitor with the silver tongue has somehow persuaded him." She glanced up at Urahara. "To think all the time and energy we spent training him was in vain."

Aizen half-closed his eyes, tilted his head, and smiled, but said nothing.

"Ichimaru, you too?" she continued. "We truly thought you had come to your senses when you attacked Aizen."

Gin's grin did not fade. "Ah, you see, I forgot something important." He lowered his voice as though imparting a secret. "Ichigo is the true king."

Urahara waved a hand. "Well, he may very well be, but why can't we all settle this peacefully?" he asked, tipping his hat forward over his eyes. "Ichigo is still young. He needs time to come into the wisdom necessary to rule the worlds. Perhaps we can work something out, where the king agrees to train him for a few years, help him grow into his role." He scratched his neck. "Then we can plan a peaceful transition." He eyed Ichigo. "Isn't that how it's done in the world of the living? Peaceably," he repeated, nodding.

Aizen said softly, "I think the usurper gave up all chances of a peaceful solution when he threatened Ichigo's family."

"Oh!" Urahara brought out his fan and snapped it open. "Ichigo, why do you believe everything this man says? Don't you see that he could have been the one who took your family?"

Suddenly Ichigo was angry. "No," he said firmly, stepping forward. "It was clear he was not involved. And the usurper is damaging the fabric of the universe. Can't you feel that things are going wrong, in Soul Society, in the world of the living?" He looked all around at the blackened earth. "This shouldn't have been destroyed so rapidly. The Royal Realm is supposed to be stronger than this; something is wrong when a single battle can completely obliterate all life this close to the royal palace." He locked eyes with Urahara. "Something's gone very wrong even here. The center cannot hold…" he said, and for a moment he thought he saw a flicker of doubt in those shaded eyes.

But then it was gone. Urahara clucked his tongue, shaking his head sadly. "You're too far gone, I'm afraid." He glanced at Yoruichi, whose face was also sorrowful. "I suppose there's no choice then but to fight. At least it'll be a fair fight, without that deceitful shikai of yours," he said to Aizen.

"Then let's begin," said Ichigo, brows lowered in a ferocious scowl. He raised his sword. "Getsuga Tenshou!" he shouted.

Urahara blocked his blow, although he staggered. At once, Yoruichi had leaped upon him from above, swinging her sword down in a powerful blow. Ichigo countered, aiming for one of the armor plates on her leg. With a ferocious strike he shattered it. She instantly leaped out of the way as Urahara brought Benihime around in a powerful roundhouse cut.

But then Aizen was there, his sword blocking Urahara's as he caught it on the guard. The two sprang apart as Gin swung his sword from a distance, only for Yoruichi to block it with one powerful forearm. The ground shook with the impact.

Ishida was firing a volley of arrows at both Urahara and Yoruichi, but something was going wrong. The arrows were dissipating into smoke as soon as they came close to either of the two shinigami.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, trying to see what technique they were using to defeat the Quincy arrows, but before he could get a good look at it Urahara was charging forward, hand splayed out as he threw a powerful kidou at the youth.

Ichigo immediately created a huge shield and deflected it, but he staggered under the heavy blow as it impacted his shield, which began to develop several large cracks. Ichigo darted back, gripping his sword again. Aizen moved forward and shot a Cero point-blank at Urahara. The man tried to dodge, but it impacted in the center of his torso and the man gasped and doubled over, clutching his belly.

Yoruichi ran forward, a look of shock on her face. Aizen slashed with his sword and a spray of blood emerged from her side. She gave a choked cry and looked back at Urahara.

"D-do it!" she gasped. "Do it now!"

Urahara straightened, grimacing, and raised Benihime one more time. Ichigo lifted Zangetsu and advanced.

But as he tried to approach Urahara, it suddenly seemed as if the fabric of space itself was stretching, warping itself apart, taking Urahara miles away in a single moment. No matter how fast he flash-stepped, the man drew further away from him. Suddenly confused, Ichigo stopped. He looked around him and saw everyone appeared very small and far away, as though the distance between each of them had been multiplied in an instant. He focused again on Urahara and began determinedly flash-stepping in the man's direction.

All at once, there was a return of the vast, crushing pressure he had felt earlier. It was as though a huge fist had gripped him in its meaty paw. Gasping for breath, unable to run, or even move, he fell to his knees as he saw Urahara approaching again.

He tried to raise his sword, but the overwhelming pressure increased, and his vision slowly turned black around the edges, then red, and then blackness closed over him entirely.

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Ichigo was first conscious of a ferocious headache and confusion, of his body lying prone upon a hard surface. There were noises and motion all around him, but he could not move or even open his eyes. He couldn't even hold a coherent thought. What had happened? As he lay there, suddenly a wave of warmth and strength seemed to surge back into him, and he opened his eyes to a bright glow. He was lying on his back on what felt like a stone floor. Orihime was kneeling over him, her healing shield extended. As it faded, he pushed himself to his feet, his eyes locking with his friend. She looked exhausted again, but her powers were as strong as ever.

"Thanks, Inoue," he said, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. She blushed and smiled at him before turning to the next patient.

He took an unsteady step forward, looking around the place he now found himself. It was a windowless, stone-walled room about twenty feet on a side. At one end was a metal door with bars set in a tiny window. Aizen was sitting against a wall, looking as worn out as Ichigo felt. To one side of the room, Gin, Ishida, Rukia, Chad, and Toshiro were all lying on the floor unconscious. Orihime went to Ishida and raised her shield over him, concentrating.

At first, the only thought Ichigo had was that he was glad all his friends were still alive. Then he frowned, puzzled. How had they all ended up in this same place? And why were they here?

"Welcome back among the living," Aizen said to Ichigo with a calm smile. "Once again, we have cause to be grateful for Orihime's powers."

"What happened?" asked Ichigo. He looked around the room. "Where are we?"

"We are in the prison level of the Royal Palace," said Aizen. "After the usurper knocked us out with his spiritual pressure, the Royal Guard transported us here. I detect reiatsu traces of Urahara, Yoruichi, as well as several Royal Guardsmen on our bodies."

Ichigo scowled. "I remember fighting Urahara and Yoruichi, after seeing them touch your zanpakutou. Then there was that weird space-stretching thing." He looked up at Aizen. "Do you know how they did that?"

Aizen shrugged, "Under the weight of the usurper's spiritual pressure, I was unable to counterattack in time. All I know is that whatever spell they used was not illusion-based," he said. Ichigo scowled, and Aizen said in a reassuring voice, "I am not worried; I am certain we can still defeat them." He spoke with his usual serene confidence.

Ichigo snorted as he looked around their prison cell pointedly. "Uh, we're in jail here," he pointed out.

Aizen raised his eyebrows. "That has never stopped me before," he commented.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Aizen never lacked confidence; that didn't obviate the fact that they were imprisoned in the heart of enemy territory. Ichigo reached out with his senses to study the walls around them; they contained some type of blocking materials so that they felt impregnable. Surprisingly, there was no sekki-sekki or other type of device that prevented them from using their powers within the cell, something for which Ichigo was grateful.

"Where are the others?" he asked Aizen. "Byakuya, Nel, the Espada, the Vizards?"

The man shrugged. "My senses are blocked by the walls of this room just as yours are. But they may be in another cell. This prison level is quite large."

Orihime had finished healing Ishida and had moved on to Rukia. "Inoue," Ichigo called out, "make sure you don't exhaust yourself. Ask me for help if you feel drained."

She looked up, her eyes wide. "Yes, Kurosaki-kun," she replied. "Actually, I feel fine. The new technique you taught me is much easier and I have to expend much less of my power to heal." She smiled at him and he nodded brusquely, not quite sure how to take the compliment.

Aizen was watching Orihime heal. "Excellent work teaching her how to manipulate the energies," he said with approval. "I couldn't have done it better myself."

Ichigo flushed. "Well, maybe you should have taught her earlier."

Aizen raised a brow. "Are you quite certain you wanted me teaching her?"

Ichigo scowled. "Well, seeing as I've already gotten in trouble for all the secret Quincy techniques you taught me without telling me, maybe it's not so good for you to be teaching at all."

"Don't worry, Ichigo. I couldn't teach anyone but you—or another Quincy—those techniques."

Ichigo looked at him, puzzled.

"As a transcendent being, Ichigo, one of the direct royal line," Aizen explained, "you have the ability to utilize any of the human, shinigami, or hollow techniques. You can manifest a zanpakutou, demonstrate hollow powers, manipulate reishi particles, develop a Fullbring…" He shook his head. "As a matter of fact, all of the known soul abilities should be at your command. The only powers that you probably cannot command are those of Inoue Orihime."

"Inoue…?" asked Ichigo, his mouth hanging open.

"Yes… her powers are quite unusual. Somehow, she developed abilities which have never been seen before. I made a study of her powers, but was unable to find out their origin. Or perhaps she may just be a new mutation." He smiled. "It's true that the unusual concentration of reishi in Karakura Town may have led to some interesting developments, and perhaps brought out some hitherto unknown abilities in the humans that dwell there, especially the ones who were born there."

Ichigo looked at Orihime, patiently holding her shield over Rukia, who had had an arm nearly severed when she began. The arm had begun mending itself under the golden light. "Do you think—" he began.

He stopped as Ishida approached them, plopping himself down next to Ichigo and deliberately avoiding Aizen's gaze. The man smiled faintly and looked away to give them what there was of privacy in this jail cell.

"Kurosaki," Ishida began, "there is something I should tell you about the Stern Ritter."

Ichigo glanced at his nakama. "Oh?" he asked.

"You see, they—"

With a bang, the cell door was thrown open and Kisuke Urahara entered. A glowing curtain of light accompanied him as he entered the room. Ichigo supposed it was some type of force field to protect him from the prisoners. He scowled at his former mentor, who had brought a folding chair in with him.

Urahara set up the folding chair behind the force field and then relaxed into it with a sigh, taking out his fan and waving it lazily in front of his face. "Ah, that's better," he sighed. "It's good to get off my feet after all the running around I've been doing." He fixed Aizen and Ichigo with his eyes. "You wouldn't believe the trouble you two have been causing." He sighed again, scrutinizing Ichigo as though he were a delinquent in the principal's office.

Ichigo returned his gaze with a defiant glare. "When are you going to let us out of here?" he demanded. "We've done nothing wrong."

"Nothing wrong!" Urahara sat up in mock amazement. "Only invaded the Spirit Realm and attacked the Royal Guard! Only threatened to kill the Spirit King!" He shook his head. "No, you've done nothing wrong."

Aizen spoke up softly, "Technically, he is correct. He is the rightful King and so his actions are entirely justified."

Urahara's gaze swung to Aizen and his eyes narrowed. "Always with the smooth words, Aizen. You always think you can outsmart everybody with that forked tongue of yours."

Aizen returned his gaze evenly. "Not everybody," he said. "But there were many in Soul Society that we both were able to pull the wool over their eyes."

Urahara sighed and stretched his arms over his head. "You took such pride in fooling everybody for so long in Soul Society." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Well, I have some news for you. You know all that time that I was supposedly working with you? I've been fooling you for even longer. I was assigned as an undercover agent to your little conspiracy from the beginning."

"From the beginning?" Aizen asked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that entire little cabal of you, Isshin and Masaki Kurosaki, and me—I was the one putting on an act the entire time."

Ichigo gasped. "You mean— you've been working for the usurper all along?"

Urahara cocked his head to one side and grinned modestly as he adjusted his hat. "Well— not exactly. You see, I created the current Spirit King."