Cw: body horror, major character death
Swirls of red and black filled Akira's vision, and a slight ache rang through his head. He could feel Kokoro no Kaitou-dan reaching out to his friends, and the pain faded as his Bankai connected with each of them. Once his team had been assembled, Akira instinctively snapped his fingers, and the darkness plaguing him abated. When the rippling shadows dispersed though, he was no longer standing in Karkura. Instead, he was in Aizen's heart.
As he finally set eyes on the traitor's psyche, a flicker of surprise ran through Akira. The frizzy-haired teen hadn't really been sure what to expect, but he hadn't anticipated that Aizen's heart would be beautiful. Fields of verdant grass glittered under muted sunlight, shielded from the full force of the star's rays by gilded clouds. Pinks and greys joined the golden light, turning the sky into an ethereal tapestry that wouldn't look out of place alongside a Renaissance painting. Flowers dotted the land, adding a splash of vibrancy to the world, and Akira could see a distant river, its faint burbling audible even from here. There was only one hint of mankind's presence – a Victorian-era gazebo looked over the babbling creek, vines creeping up its wooden walls. Finally, far-away mountains surrounded them, hazy fangs that reached towards the sky.
"Wow, it's kind of pretty…" Ann murmured.
In stark contrast, Renji's lips thinned. "It's unsettling."
They were both right. The entire world glistened with sparks of light, like morning dew or a crystal reflecting in the sun. It was beautiful, yes, but something about it seemed otherworldly too. While it hadn't quite breached the line into being outright sinister, there was something undeniably off about the picturesque landscape. Idly, Akira wondered what Yusuke would have thought of it - would the artist find the unearthly beauty enrapturing, or merely off-putting?
Makoto frowned, scanning their surroundings. "This is Aizen's heart – no matter what it looks like, we need to stay on our guard."
"I concur." Rukia nodded. "This man is capable of unfathomable monstrosities. Whatever is waiting in store for us here is almost certainly going to be unpleasant."
Ryuji warily prodded the grass with his foot, before taking a tentative step forward. The blond relaxed when the blades didn't stab into his sole the second he put down his full weight. "So, now what? We ain't gonna fix Aizen standing around here."
Akira frowned. There had been a clear path laid out for them to follow in the prison, but here, there wasn't anything that screamed important. He tried listening for any odd sounds and even sniffed the air, but his other senses didn't pick up anything of note either. No matter how hard he searched for it, he could see no hints of Aizen's distortion. Fuck, Akira couldn't even see the signs of Shido's interference, even though the traitor's heart must be crawling with it.
"Why don't we check out that gazebo?" He suggested eventually.
No one had any better ideas, so after receiving a chorus of nods, Akira strode its way. There were no cobblestones in Aizen's world, but he could see a faint impression of a path that led through the grass and turned around the river's bend. It didn't take them long to reach their destination, and stepping up the wooden stairs and into the gazebo proper, Akira glanced around. Ivy climbed up the trellis wall, and while the temperature in Aizen's heart was perfectly moderate, it was the slightest fraction cooler in the shade. Beyond that, though, there was very little to report. No graffiti was scrawled on the walls and there were no tables covered with incriminating documents. The pavilion was empty except for a couple of wooden chairs.
"There has to be something here." Makoto crouched down, looking around. "Maybe there's clues under the vines…?"
Ann and Renji joined her, scrutinising the walls, but something in Akira's gut told him it was pointless. Whatever they were looking for would be in plain sight, even if it wasn't easy to see. Instead, he strolled over to the other side of the gazebo and peered outside. It overlooked the creek, and Akira rested against the railings, staring over the waters. While the sun was still high in the sky, when the frizzy-haired teen looked down, he was greeted by the moon's reflection. Akira snorted. Kyōka Suigetsu – mirror flower, water moon. On the nose much, Aizen? He thought the traitor's heart would be a bit more subtle, but then again, the man was a bit of an egotist.
A flicker of movement then crossed over the water's edge, and Akira snapped his head sidewards, immediately tensing. For a split second, he thought he saw a woman reflected in the water, but she disappeared just as soon as he noticed her. The frizzy-haired teen stared at the spot for several more seconds, and when nothing happened, he rubbed his eyes. Given how jumpy he was, Akira wasn't that surprised his mind was playing tricks upon him - it was probably just Futaba.
Turning around and leaving the gazebo, he paused for a second when he saw the hacker standing next to Uryū - while the rest of the Phantoms were still picking the building apart, they stared at the garden, whispering softly to each other.
Curiosity flickered inside him. "What's up?"
"Ah, Akira." Uryū glanced his way. "Do you know anything about flower language?"
"It's my latest game theory." Futaba explained. "The gazebo is clearly a red herring, so there's gotta be another gimmick to this place."
Contemplatively, he rubbed his chin. Truth be told, it wasn't a bad theory – hanakotoba did seem like the sort of shit Aizen would use for the sake of being pretentious. Still, most of Akira's flower language knowledge was limited to things like roses-mean-love and lilies-mean-purity. He had absolutely no idea which flower represented so-yeah-there's-a-trapdoor-to-your-right.
Futaba's idea was quickly quashed, unfortunately, as Rukia drifted to the trio's side, giving the garden a quick once-over. "I'm afraid hanakotoba isn't going to help you here. Half of these flowers aren't even native to Japan, and the rest have been planted based on colour coordination as opposed to their meaning."
Futaba sighed. "Ugh, lame."
"Maybe we just need to continue exploring?" Makoto sighed as she joined them, finally having given up on her search.
"Let's follow the path and go around the river." Akira decided. "Maybe we just need to move in deeper."
He stepped away from the gazebo, ready to move on when a burst of pain suddenly exploded in his foot. Stumbling backwards, the teen cursed, instinctively grabbing his aching appendage. Alarm flashed in his chest as warm blood seeped onto his fingers, and Akira's head snapped back towards the grass. Droplets of red glittered in the sun, but as he peered closer, he saw his blood wasn't the only thing reflecting the light - the edges of the blades of grass glistened, each as sharp as broken glass.
"I knew it! The grass is evil!" Ryuji hissed, waving a fist aggressively as he glared at the plants.
"Here – let me look at that." Ann offered, crouching by Akira's side.
A whisp of flame pooled in her hand, and she gently directed it onto his foot. Just like the fires of her Bankai, the heat was soothing as opposed to agonising, and soon, his injuries were burnt away.
Biting her lip, Futaba winced. "I think we've found the gimmick."
Now that the veil had been lifted, it was clear the field's pretty façade was merely that – a façade. Every inch of the place was designed to hurt. As the Phantoms progressed down the path, they needed to prod the ground before every step, lest their soles get shredded. To make matters worse, the longer they followed the river, the smaller the traversable ground grew. Akira was forced to take comically large steps over the grass – Futaba couldn't even reach some patches, and was forced to let Ryuji carry her around instead.
Unfortunately, the grass wasn't the only thing seeking the Phantoms' blood. Ann's arm brushed past some morning glories, and the pretty pink flowers sliced into her skin. Slowly but surely, the garden grew increasingly overgrown until the grass was abrely visible, and by the time they rounded the bend, everyone was covered in nicks and scrapes. Suffice to say, relief crashed into Akira when the path finally widened again, the bed of nails slowly turning back into normal grass. His moment's reprieve didn't last long, though. The tension in his shoulders had just finished unwinding when he looked into the distance, and breath catching in his throat, he froze.
There was a gazebo alongside the river.
"We've been going in circles." Akira's voice was full of dismay. "We're right back where we started."
A series of curses followed his statement, and anxiety flickered into the teen's chest. While he knew the flow of time in the world of the heart didn't necessarily correlate with reality, they'd still wasted precious seconds they didn't have on an ultimately pointless detour. They needed to find some way of making progress, and fast.
"Maybe we need to dig up a flowerbed?" Renji suggested, scratching his chin.
"That… sounds like a great way to get cut to pieces." Ann shot the Captain a concerned stare.
Akira pursed his lips. He agreed with the blonde – the flowers weren't the key to solving this puzzle. What else could help them unravel this twisted world, however?
It was then that an idea trickled into Akira's mind. "I think we should check out the river again. I saw a moon reflected in it earlier - I thought it was just a bit of set dressing at first, but…"
Ryuji scratched the back of his head. "I don't get it."
"Suigetsu – it means water moon." Uryū explained. "It's the second half of Aizen's Shikai's name."
While there were a few patches of razor grass that Akira swore weren't there earlier on their trek back to the riverbank, and some of the stones on the shore seemed to look just a tiny bit too pointed, the Phantoms thankfully managed to reach the water's edge reasonably unscathed. The moon was still there, the pale orb shining faintly against the sea of blue. As Akira stared down at it, however, he froze as he momentarily looked into a set of eyes.
He barely resisted jumping backwards. "Did anyone else see that!?"
"No – what is it?" Makoto asked, brows furrowed.
Akira quickly explained what he'd just seen. "… I thought I saw Futaba's reflection in the water earlier, but she was on the other side of the gazebo, so it couldn't have been her."
The Phantoms exchanged a series of worried glances.
"Brilliant." Ryuji's shoulders slumped. "And I thought this place was creepy enough already."
Makoto took in a deep breath, and while her voice was even, the brunette looked slightly peaky. "It could have been a trick of the light – something designed to unsettle. Aizen is an illusionist, after all."
Slowly, Akira nodded. Either way, there wasn't anything he could do about the strange visions for now other than be on guard. They were blink-and-you'd-miss-it, after all.
"Now what?" Ryuji crossed his arms, staring down at the water. "I ain't touching that stuff."
Renji shrugged before pulling out his Zanpakutō. "Howl, Zabimaru." There was a moment's delay before the blade elongated, and the Captain shuddered. "Ugh, that felt weird… I'm not looking forward to fighting in this place. This whole no-Reiryoku thing is gonna throw us all off."
"Just remember your powers are based on your conviction here." Futaba frowned. "Don't overthink things, and let yourself rely on your instincts."
Nodding, Renji poked the water with the tip of his blade, causing the surface of the moon to ripple. When nothing happened aside from that, he plunged his Shikai deep into the water with a loud splash, disrupting the reflection until it was nothing but fragments of colour. No ghostly hands grabbed the Captain's Zanpakutō, however, and when Renji withdrew his blade from the water, Zabimaru was hale and whole. Tentatively, the redhead let a droplet of water drip from his sword and onto his fingertip, before licking it with his tongue.
"Seems like normal water to me." Renji sighed.
Discontent swirled in Akira's chest. This couldn't be a dead end – they'd explored everywhere they could, and this was the only thing that even reflected a glimmer of Aizen's true self.
It was then that the answer struck him like a lightning bolt. Of course! He'd been so caught up in focusing on the second half of Aizen's Shikai's name, he'd forgotten about its beginning. Turning around, the frizzy-haired teen stared at the garden. The garden, which was carved from shining glass. And what exactly was a mirror made out of…? That's right – silver and glass.
"It's fake." He announced. "This entire world is fake. It's just a reflection designed to fool us - a mirror of something that doesn't exist. We won't see the truth until we break it." A grin crossed Akira's face. "So, who here is interested in earning seven years of bad luck?"
Rukia scoffed, eyes twinkling. "Don't be foolish – this is a Shinigami's heart. We're not beholden to your strange human superstitions here."
Ryuji grinned, cradling his bat in his hand. "Damn right we're not – I'm gonna smash this place into pieces!"
He whacked Sorakaizoku into the sand. Instead of parting around the weapon, now that they knew the true nature of this world, the ground shattered, leaving nothing but a gaping void behind where pebbles once were. Letting out a wild laugh, Renji joined in, and when he slashed at the river, shards of glass sailed through the air.
Pandemonium quickly ensued. If there was one thing the Phantoms were good at, it was causing chaos. Ann hurtled fireballs at the flowerbeds, which glowed and melted under the heat. Uryū hacked at some vines with a Seele Schneider, reducing them to splinters. Rukia cast spell upon spell, eyes shining as she basked in the destruction. Meanwhile, Makoto clearly still held a grudge against the gazebo and demolished it with her fists. Even Futaba got into the game, whacking the flowers with her bag of supplies.
Eventually, a loud, piercing crash echoed through the garden as it finally collapsed under the Phantoms' assault. Large cracks spiderwebbed across the world of mirrors before reality itself shattered. The ground fell away beneath his feet, and Akira found himself free-falling. The teen felt no fear though – only satisfaction. The plunge didn't last long, and Akira winced as his rear end smashed down on something, hard. Rubbing his bottom, the Shinigami got to his feet – it seemed the Phantoms had been deposited on some sort of platform.
Looking around, his eyebrows rose. Now, this place looked a lot more like what he was expecting from Aizen's heart. From every angle they were surrounded by sky, as if they'd been deposited in the false heavens that stared down upon the gardens. Clouds embraced them, greys and purples illuminated by a gentle gold light. White wisps of fog gathered at the Phantoms' feet, all but obscuring the transparent platform they'd landed on.
Twin staircases rose from said platform, which branched off in different directions again and again until they split into a countless array of paths weaving through the gilded skies. Though, perhaps calling them stairs was a bit generous – they were mere slats of glass that somehow floated amidst the skies, unconnected to anything. Despite the infinite number of roads, however, it seemed each pathway eventually led to the same destination. Perched impossibly on a mountain of clouds, haloed by the sun itself, was a cathedral. The building was nothing but a distant silhouette, but even then, Akira could see its grandeur.
"A church among the heavens… how arrogant." Uryū murmured. "Fitting, for a man who fancies himself a god."
"Wanna bet that's our end goal?" Akira grinned.
Futaba snorted. "No way – do I look like a sucker to you?"
Glancing around, his grin faded as Akira refocused on his goal. It looked like the only way up was via the staircases. They both seemed identical at first, but when his gaze lingered on them, the clouds obscuring their landings shifted. He rubbed his eyes – he'd assumed they'd both lead to platforms similar to the one he was standing on, but it seemed Aizen's psyche had a different idea.
At the top of the stairs to the right was a vast, but shallow river. Crystal-clear water drifted over a sea of pebbles, evergreen trees dotting the distant shore. Beyond them, more steps rose into the sky. Meanwhile, the path to the left couldn't have been more different if it tried. It led to an overgrown bog, the scent of which Akira could even pick up from there. Tussocks of thick grass occasionally broke through the murk, and the swamp was dotted with mangroves, their drooping boughs and twisting roots blotting out the light. As unappetising as it looked, however, the right-hand path filled Akira with infinitely more unease – it was just a tiny bit too much like the garden of mirrors for his liking.
"Does anyone have anything they wouldn't mind losing?" Renji asked. "Preferably something with a bit of weight."
Makoto frowned. "Here, have a couple of my Seele Schneiders. I've got some to spare."
She passed him two grey slats, the pseudo swords both deactivated. Renji tossed one of them into the bog, and it plopped as it hit the water, but slowly, it floated back to the surface, muddied but unharmed. Turning around, he tossed the other Seele Schneider into the river. Despite their deceptively shallow appearance, it seemed the waters were much deeper than Akira thought – the Seele Schneider sunk for a while, before suddenly, in a flourish of movement, something snapped it up in its jaws.
Silence descended on the Phantoms.
"Thought so." Renji grimaced. "The pretty paths are dangerous, the ugly ones safe."
"Yeesh." Futaba shuddered. "Even in the very depths of Aizen's heart, everything is a lie."
"I can't say I'm surprised." Rukia sighed as she started to walk towards the bog. "Aizen kept up a kind, charming façade for centuries. He uses a beautiful mirage to lure people to his side, and by the time his victims realise it's a trap, it's too late. I don't even think he knows how to tell the truth anymore."
A brutal scowl crossed Renji's face. "Momo…"
Akira fell into a subdued silence as he thought about the late Lieutenant. The Arrancar had been manipulated in much the same way too. Instead of plucking the strings of their heart like a fiddle, Aizen had blinded them with promises of salvation and a better life. While Shido had brainwashed him before he could renege on that, the frizzy-haired teen wouldn't have been surprised if the ex-Captain had been planning on using them as disposal pawns just like the politician had.
Ryuji's expression was uncharacteristically solemn as he addressed Renji. "Don't worry – we'll make the bastard pay."
"Yeah, we will." The Captain gave him a weak smile in return.
Luckily, traversing the bog wasn't too difficult. Rukia froze the waters with Sode no Shirayuki, and tentatively, they made their way across the ice. As they delved deeper into the swamp, Akira swore he caught a glimpse of a woman's face reflected on the waters. Perhaps it was one of the female Phantoms, or perhaps not – only time would tell.
The rest of the journey towards the cathedral followed a similar pattern. They would be greeted with branching paths, and one would be picturesque – rolling meadows, quaint country roads, sprawling beaches – and the other the opposite – rubbish-filled slums, sulphuric volcanos, corpse-riddled battlefields drenched in gore and mud. There were no exceptions, however – the pretty lie always led to danger, while the ugly truth was safe.
Akira knew they'd almost reached their destination when he finally started to see signs of Shido's tampering. It had been subtle at first – glimmering metal lost amidst a sea of rot and decay – but the closer they drew to the cathedral, the more it seeped through. Chains drifted on stormy seas or floated through the stars like ribbons. Iron bars punctured the clouds, a surefire reminder that Aizen's soul was imprisoned. Still, Akira couldn't find it within himself to pity the man – he'd been caged by nothing but his own hubris.
He was snapped out of his musings as finally, the Phantoms finished ascending the stairs. While the cathedral had appeared grand from a distance, up close, it simply looked imposing. Reaching into the sky, it dwarfed the teens like a giant would an ant, and while Aizen's heart had been temperate until now, in the umbra of the sun's shadow, a deep chill permeated the air. The body of the cathedral was framed by large spiralling towers that reached up into the sky, the elaborate Gothic architecture adding to their austere aura. Last but not least, above the cathedral's arched entrance was a large stained-glass window made from a kaleidoscope of colours.
"Should we try sneakin' in?" Ryuji suggested after the Phantoms finished absorbing the scenery.
"From where?" Ann frowned. "I've visited some places like this when I was in Europe – most of them only have one door, and the windows aren't the sort you can open."
Akira nodded – as elaborate as the building's façade was, the actual structure itself was comparatively simple.
"I think Aizen's gonna know we're here anyway." Futaba pursed her lips. "Tasogare no Dorobō did, after all."
"She's right." The frizzy-haired teen nodded. "I think we'll have to face him head-on regardless of what we do. We might as well get this over and done with."
No one objected to his statement. Marching up to the heavy oak doors, Akira soldiered through his churning stomach and pushed them wide open. Cautiously, but confidently, he strode into the cathedral's nave. The interior was gloomy – the only illumination came from three tall stained-glass windows at the church's far end. Motes of dust glistened in the sunbeams, and it sunk into Akira's bones just how ancient this place felt.
In contrast to the cathedral's ornate exterior, the inside was surprisingly spartan. The pews were hewn from a dark wood, remarkably humble considering the rest of the building's grandeur. The nave was lined by thick, Corinthian columns, which held up a vast, arched ceiling. Images had been lovingly carved into the wood, not that Akira could make out any details given the dark. Finally, chains were draped like spiderwebs across the roof, one last grim reminder of Shido's meddling in this sacred realm.
All of that mattered very little, however, compared to the white-clad figure kneeling in the chapel. Their head was bowed, obscuring their face, but given their build, Akira was certain it was Aizen. As he approached his foe his footsteps echoed like gunshots, and the tension in the air grew more and more oppressive until the teenager felt his stride slowing down. Despite his obvious approach, however, the figure remained bowed in prayer. As Akira crossed the nave and entered the aisle, he paused. Now that he could get a better look at his target, he wasn't so sure they were Aizen after all – he wasn't even sure if they were alive. Every inch of their body was coated in white porcelain, like a twisted statue carved from marble.
Uneasily taking his eyes off the figure, he scanned the rest of the altar. It was empty, so his eyes trailed upwards until they rested on the stained-glass windows. They depicted no gods or saints, merely abstract patterns of gold and white and purple. It was then though that he noticed an odd patch in one of the window's corners – a cluster of detail unlike the broad shapes of the rest of the glass. Akira narrowed his eyes before they blew wide open in shock.
He was staring at a woman's face – the same woman who'd been haunting him ever since he stepped into Aizen's heart. Like always, she was nothing but a reflection with no source. The woman's features were severe, more piercing than beautiful, and long brown hair – the same shade as Aizen's – flowed down her back. In sharp contrast to the generally Western architecture of the realm, she was donned in the traditional robes of a shrine maiden. Something clicked in Akira's mind. Hold on. Is that… Kyōka Suigetsu? It would make sense that Aizen's Zanpakutō would both be in this world and yet be nothing but an intangible ghost. Given how generally detached the ex-Captain's viewpoint was, he probably viewed his Zanpakutō spirit as nothing more than a limb – a mere, meaningless extension of himself.
The second he met the spirit's eyes, she vanished, and a loud crack echoed through the cathedral. Eyes snapping downwards, Akira's heart skipped a beat as the statue stood up. It turned to face him, large fragments of porcelain falling off its skin and shattering into dust on the tiled floor. Akira stiffened, his hand clenched tight around Tasogare no Dorobō's hilt.
It was both Aizen and not. His hair had lengthened, flowing unrestrained – it looked almost identical to Kyōka Suigetsu's. The rest of the changes the traitor had gone through were significantly more drastic and a lot less pretty, unfortunately. The sclera of his eyes had turned black and his pupils an awful white, but even that wasn't as uncanny as the third eye that had opened up in the middle of his forehead. Several sets of giant, lepidopteran wings exploded from his back, and the dark abyss of a Hollow hole had formed in his chest. A cross of flesh intersected it, a circular device sitting in its centre. It took Akira a second to realise was the Hōgyoku.
As Aizen spread his wings, radiant and eldritch in equal measure, Akira suddenly realised why the altar was empty. It was to give room for his bestial form. The god worshipped in Aizen's cathedral was himself.
"Is that… his Hollow form?" Futaba adjusted her goggles, squinting. "Saaaaaay, you can't pull something like that out of your ass, can you, Akira?"
"Sorry to burst your bubble, but definitely not." He rapidly shook his head. "I don't know what that is, but it sure as hell isn't your average Hollowfication."
"An astute observation, Kurusu-kun." Aizen purred, distorted voice dripping with indulgence.
As he advanced towards the Phantoms, fragments of the chrysalis that had once covered him rose into the sky. Crumbling into dust, they shifted in the air until they formed long strings that reached down from the ceiling and onto Aizen's limbs. Each of the Phantoms slipped into a fighting stance, the Shinigami whipping out their blades as Uryū summoned his bow and Makoto readied her fists. Aizen didn't move to attack though - it seemed he was in the mood to monologue. It was just typical of him, really.
"I suppose there's no harm telling you – I am beyond your reach now." He explained. "The Hōgyoku's true power isn't merely to break down the barrier between Shinigami and Hollow, but to elevate one to their ultimate form!" The megalomaniac swept out his arm, a brutal grin crossing his face. "Don't you see? Your powers… you owe them all to the Hōgyoku."
"P-pardon?!" Ann stammered, eyes wide.
"Kurusu is the sole exception, being one of the chosen few souls to possess Reiryoku in life, but Takamaki? Niijima? Sakamoto? None of you possessed any inherent spiritual potential, but the second Kuchiki entered your life, that changed." Aizen looked at the blonde. "Do you really think one Hollow attack would grant you Fullbring?" His eyes shifted to a pale Makoto. "That after years of barely being able to sense Reiatsu, you would be able suddenly see Hollows? That a boy who couldn't even do that could somehow learn Shikai?" He scoffed, turning to Ryuji.
A flicker of unease ran through Akira, and it was clear he wasn't the only one rattled by Aizen's words. Ann's jaw hung open loosely, and Makoto's eyes widened while Ryuji flinched, stepping away from the beast.
Naturally, it was at that moment that Uryū shot Aizen in the head with his pistol. The gunshot echoed through the cathedral, followed by a clinking noise as the bullet landed on the floor. Alas, it had achieved little other than cracking the skin on Aizen's forehead, but Akira hadn't really expected it to do much more than that. It did do one thing, however – namely, disrupt Aizen's gloating.
"That's the stupidest thing I've heard in my life." The Quincy snarked. "If this wonder orb of yours hasn't turned you into a Hollow, then tell me… why is your physical body nothing but Shido's puppet?"
"Yeah!" Ryuji yelled, the fire returning to his eyes. "Anyway, so what if some dumb rock is the reason we got our powers? All that means is that all your schemin' led you straight to your downfall!"
"That's right." Akira nodded, his confidence returning full force. "Besides, why should we listen to anything you say? Your entire psyche is built on a foundation of lies - I'm not even sure if you know what the truth is anymore."
"Akira's right – his words are nothing but poison!" Rukia cried. "Don't believe a single thing Aizen says!"
The fissures in Aizen's head quickly sealed shut as he regenerated, and the monster sighed, dusting his shoulder. "I'm hurt, Kurusu-kun, Kuchiki-chan. Like I said, I have no reason to conceal anything from you anymore. I have subdued the Hōgyoku, and become a being that transcends both Shinigami and Hollow. Now, let me demonstrate what that means!"
Akira didn't even register that Aizen had moved until a blistering pain exploded in his stomach and he was sent rocketing through the air. He smashed into something and winced, though it was a lot softer than the stone he was expecting. Glancing over his shoulder, he met Makoto's concerned eyes, blue lines covering her body.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah – let's do this!"
He imagined the feeling of Tasogare no Dorobō's gauntlets on his skin, and his Zanpakuto slowly morphed until it formed the familiar shape of his Shikai. Pointing his grappling hook at the arched ceiling, he sailed into the air. Wind rustled his hair as he surveyed the battlefield - during the handful of seconds he'd been incapacitated, everything had already gone to shit. Ryuji had clearly attempted to jump Aizen and had gotten crushed into the floor for his troubles, forcing Ann to frantically try and revive him. While Renji was still standing, he'd been sliced open from head to toe and was bleeding profusely onto the tiles. Meanwhile, Rukia stared at Renji's back, eyes as wide as saucers – he'd likely gotten hurt shielding her from one of Aizen's blows. Finally, Futaba had hidden herself under the pews, Uryū shielding them both with some Gintō.
"Pineapple, Panther, use your special move! Snow, Ginger, focus on long-range attacks!" Akira commanded, desperately hoping Renji would realise who he was referring to when he said 'pineapple'.
Judging by the offended look on the redhead's face, he did. Akira didn't have the time to see if his friends moved into formation, however, as he'd finally swung directly above Aizen. Switching over his Shikai's forms, he pointed his blade down at the traitor, and let gravity do the rest. He wasn't expecting to deal a ton of damage – no matter how much he psyched himself up, Akira didn't think he'd ever be able to genuinely convince himself he could take the former Captain down in one blow – but if he distracted him long enough for the others to unleash their Bankais, he'd be satisfied. If Ann and Renji could handle Aizen for a moment, it'd give the frizzy-haired teen the time he needed to heal Ryuji.
As he sailed down, the semi-corporal strings rising from Aizen's body tickled his skin, but Akira ignored them - if they were dangerous, he'd be dead already. Instead, he continued plunging downwards, wind whipping at his skin as he pointed his sword at Aizen's collarbone. The former Captain glanced his way, expression bored. With a flick of his wrist, he slashed at the teen with his Zanpakutō, nearly knocking Tasogare no Dorobō right out of Akira's hands as he gouged a deep gash in his torso.
When Akira hit the ground, he hit it hard. Wheezing, he managed to roll back up to his knees just in time to see Makoto swing her fist towards Aizen's face. The monster beat his wings, blasting her away as he whipped up a miniature gale. The blue lines of her Blut Vene shielded her, however, and the brunette took minimal damage as she skidded along the ground.
It was then that twin cries echoed through the sacred halls.
"Bankai: Hihiō Zabimaru!"
"Bankai: Hiiro no Hōō!"
A maelstrom of flame whirled around Ann, and simultaneously, Renji's Zanpakutō expanded. The skeletal body of Hihiō Zabimaru knocked the pews to the ground, cracking the stone walls of the cathedral as a loud howl escaped the Bankai's throat. The already damaged rocks began to glow and melt as the heat from Ann's Bankai warped them, a pair of wings forming on the blonde's back.
Putting his faith in his friends, Akira left them to it and hurried to Ryuji's side instead. He quickly scooped up the blond, shunpoing to the other end of the building. The frizzy-haired teen put his friend down, and Ryuji let out a moan of pain. When Akira got a good look at his arm, he involuntarily winced. Ann had managed to stop him from bleeding out, but without the aid of her Bankai, she wasn't a natural healer. His flesh and bones were exposed for the whole world to see, the blond's tendons torn in two. I know how to heal. I can fix this, even if it doesn't feel the same as usual. Thankfully, Akira's self-assurance paid off, and a wave of relief swept through him as his hands glowed green and the gaping wound in Ryuji's arm began to seal itself.
"Thanks." Ryuji winced, flexing his limb experimentally once Akira had finished doing his work.
"No worries." He sighed as he patched up his own wounds. "Stick to long-range support – I think the only ones of us who'll be able to take a direct hit from Aizen are the Quincies and maybe Renji."
The delinquent nodded before shunpoing away.
Akira turned back to the battle just in time to hear Rukia yell. "Bakudō #62. Hyapporankan!"
A hundred rods of light hurtled straight towards Aizen, smashing into his insectoid wings. Ann immediately spun her baton, sending a whirlwind of fire spinning towards the brunet. Meanwhile, Renji snarled, and an orb of scarlet light formed in Hihiō Zabimaru's jaw, glowing so brightly it almost outshined the blonde's flames. The Bankai let loose and fired, the dense beam blasted towards Aizen. On the other end of the cathedral, Uryū pointed his Heilig Bogen into the air. The Quincy shot a thousand arrows skywards, and as they arced downwards towards the traitor, the entire church was illuminated in an intermingled azure and vermillion glow.
As the triad of attacks hit their target simultaneously they exploded into a blinding light, forcing Akira to shield his eyes. The entire cathedral shook at the magnitude of the blast, Akira stumbling as the ground underneath him shifted and heaved. A cloud of pulverised stone – hopefully containing scant traces of insect – swept through the hall of worship, and as dust assailed his nose and throat, the frizzy-haired coughed. He dared not let his guard down, however. Heart racing, he stared at the spot Rukia had pinned Aizen.
The smoke cleared. The traitor stood standing, not even a single hair out of place. As the brunet saw the despair in the Phantoms' eyes, he smirked.
Aizen snapped his fingers, a soft glow emanating from his body before the cathedral's ceiling lit up like the sun. Pillars of blinding light speared down from the heavens, piercing the Phantoms before Akira could even blink. Pain exploded across his body as if he'd been doused with gasoline and then set alight. The frizzy-haired teen gasped for air, letting out a choking wheeze that rattled wetly. Broken wood and crumbled rocks surrounded him, digging into his cheek as the teen's vision swam.
No. Determination blazed within him, and the darkness chewing away at his vision abated. I'm not done yet!
Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the pain and staggered upright, his body knitting itself back together as his inner Hollow regenerated him. Akira was immediately greeted by devastation. Half the cathedral had been demolished, silhouetting Aizen against the gilded clouds. Around him, the Phantoms coughed as they rose to their feet, but it was clear they had survived on sheer willpower, and willpower alone. Chunks of Hihiō Zabimaru's vertebrae were scattered across the tiled floor, and the rest of the Bankai's bones were bent and broken. The Zanpakutō was in slightly better shape than Hiiro no Hōō, however – Ann's Bankai had been scattered to the wind, leaving nothing but embers.
"Akira!" Futaba hissed, grabbing his shoulder. While she was covered in wood splinters and dust, she was otherwise unharmed – it seemed she'd sensibly stayed on the outskirts of the fray. "This isn't going to work."
Akira shook his head. "No, it will – I believe in us."
Futaba pursed her lips. "That's half the problem. You might believe in us, but Aizen believes in himself too. You've seen this place, you've heard his rants. He thinks he's a god, Akira."
"But he's not." He gritted his teeth.
"No, but he is the final boss, and all of us know that. We're determined, Akira, but none of us think we're literally infallible. Unless we change tracks, he'll hit us again and again until we finally run out of steam."
A shiver ran down his spine, a for a second, Akira found himself faltering – maybe this had been impossible from the start. No. His fear burned away before it had fully formed, conviction steeling his heart. We can do this. Urahara and Tasogare no Dorobō both have faith in us. The shopkeeper never would have left the fate of the world in the palm of our hands if he didn't think we had a chance.
Akira stared at Aizen. Brilliant, radiant Aizen who shone with all the arrogance of a false god, a self-styled butterfly of death ready to end the world and rebirth it in his image.
Aizen, who was currently being held upright by strings.
It struck him like a lightning bolt. Of course. That's it! It was so obvious, that Akira almost wanted to facepalm. Aizen was no god – he was nothing but a puppet, and he didn't even know it. They didn't need to win against him in a fight – the only thing they needed to do was open his eyes.
"Everyone! I've got a plan! Follow my lead!"
He hurtled Tasogare no Dorobō's dagger towards Aizen with all of his might. Yet again, the wannabe god didn't even bother dodging. It bounced off his skin, exactly how Akira had anticipated. Ricocheting upwards into the air, his Shikai soared straight towards the eldritch threads rising off Aizen's skin. Akira narrowed his eyes, only one thought blaring through his mind. Cut them. His conviction sharpened his blade like a whetstone, and Tasogare no Dorobō sliced through a dozen of the strings like they were butter. The threads snapped in half, and Aizen staggered, his expression growing surprised for the first time since their confrontation began.
Makoto caught on to what he was doing instantly. Yelling, she charged forward and used Aizen's back as a springboard as she launched herself into the air. Whirling around, the traitor lifted an arm, a dark Cero forming in the palm of his hand. The brunette ignored him as she spun midair, withdrawing a Seele Schneider and tearing through a score of strings with ease. Aizen's arm dropped limply, the glowing light in his fingers dissipating.
Reinvigorated by their first true victory, the Phantoms let out a roar and charged. It was mayhem, but Akira thrived on it. Aizen cut and lunged, the setback doing little to mitigate his raw power, but that hardly mattered now that Akira's friends were confident. Ryuji moved with enough speed to duck under the traitor's blows and drew in close before whacking him in the knees. Aizen staggered, and Ann swooped in, lashing a wave of fire over his head. Rukia and Uryū worked in tandem, peppering the strings with an unrelenting volley of arrows and spellfire.
Renji lifted the hilt of his shattered Bankai, grinning like a hungry beast. "This is for Momo, you fucking bastard! Higa Zekkō!"
Hihiō Zabimaru's scattered segments levitated off the ground, vicious red energy coating each bone. Simultaneously, each shard rocketed towards Aizen's strings, utterly obliterating them. While the Zanpakutō warped back into its sealed state when it was done, Renji's attack had been brutal. Aizen swayed, and Akira could count the number of strings that held him afloat on one hand.
It's time to finish this. The teenager raced forward, Tasogare no Dorobō warping in a flamberge. With a yell, he swept his blade through the sky and severed the last of Aizen's strings.
The false god fell, landing on the ground with a thud.
"No…!" Aizen snarled, his usual composure just as obliterated as his delusions. Shakily, he attempted to force himself upright. "Don't think you've won, you pathetic gaggle of humans! There is nothing that can stop me from reaching heaven – nothing!"
The third eye on his forehead split open, and the last of Aizen's humanity literally peeled away. The skin sloughed off his face, reducing his head to a blackened skull. Two more Hollow holes opened in his torso as his wings thickened. The thin membrane was replaced with chunky flesh, the tips of his wings capped with small skulls as large eyes opened in each of their centres. Black ichor covered Aizen's limbs and spread to the hilt of his Zanpakutō, merging it with his right hand like it was a twisted, oversized claw.
One of the skulls on his wings opened its jaw and blasted a Cero straight at Uryū, who narrowly leapt out of its way. The beam shattered the cathedral even further, sending chips of rock flying through the air.
"Oh, shit!" Futaba yelled, scrambling away. "He's gone all One-Winged Angel on us! Still, Aizen knows we can win now – just keep hammering away, and he'll drop before you know it!"
Despite their bloated state, when Aizen flapped his wings, he still lifted into the air. The ex-Captain soared at Renji, clearly identifying him as the biggest threat. The traitor's hand clenched around the Captain's throat as Aizen hoisted him into the air, and as they continued ascending into the skies, a ring of malicious purple energy surrounded the redhead. Ann whipped out Shinkubi and snared it around Aizen's arm, pulling both it and Renji out of the radius of the spell. The dark ring snapped shut barely a second later – if it hadn't been for the blonde's quick thinking, Renji would have been decapitated.
Charging forward, Rukia abandoned spellcasting and instead activated her Shikai. The Lieutenant's Zanpakutō turned a brilliant shade of white, and as she spun the blade, a column of ice rocketed up into the air and froze Aizen in place. Uryū took advantage of the opportunity to pepper him with arrows, but with a mere flap of his wings, the traitor sent the projectiles flying before shattering the frozen pillar that trapped him.
Before he could fly away, Makoto intercepted Aizen, lashing a Shunkō-powered fist at his head. The brunet blocked the blow with his sword, but the force of it made him falter and dislodged Renji from his grip. Ryuji swept in, catching the redhead before he crashed onto the floor. Unfortunately, Makoto had used up her good luck – Aizen tore a jagged slash through her torso, forcing the brunette to fall back.
Akira took her place, darting in as he summoned his mask. Charging Aizen from the side, he fired a scarlet red Cero at the ex-Captain. Unsurprisingly, the traitor deflected it with ease, but the attack was merely a feint. Instead, Akira twisted, shifting Tasogare no Dorobō into its flamberge form and slashing it at Aizen's wings - if he could cut them off, the traitor's mobility would be decimated and his back exposed. The frizzy-haired teen's blade tore into flesh, sending dark ichor spouting everywhere. Before he could finish his strike, however, Aizen gripped Akira's arm and tossed him through the air like a ragdoll.
He smashed into the cathedral's tiles and bounced across the ground until he finally lost momentum and rolled to a stop. Winded, Akira lay on the ground gasping, but despite his pain, the Shinigami knew the show must go on. He pushed himself upright, but instead of charging back into the fray, the frizzy-haired teen paused as something glimmered in the corner of his eye. Glancing to the side, his gaze landed on a fragment of glass the size of his body - it must have fallen from the windows when Aizen tore through the chapel. Almost as if she was summoned by his stare, Kyōka Suigetsu's visage slowly faded onto the amber surface.
While no sound came from her mouth as she spoke, her words were as clear as day. "Do not free me. I will not help you. I cannot end this."
Akira's eyes narrowed into slits. Everything in Aizen's heart lies.
Lifting his flamberge sword into the air, he swung it downwards with all his might, smashing the glass into pieces. It broke into a thousand shards which glittered dazzlingly in the sunlight, and Akira's heart skipped a beat – for half a second, he was worried he'd misinterpreted the spirit's words. His fears were for naught, however – swirling in the air, the shards melted together and morphed into the shape of the woman who'd been haunting him ever since he set foot into Aizen's heart.
The golden glow to her skin faded, melted sand replaced with solid flesh. Kyōka Suigetsu stared down at him, brown eyes drilling into Akira as if he was a particularly fascinating puzzle. The teenager refused to cower though, and met her gaze unflinchingly. She must have seen something she liked, as while Kyōka Suigetsu did not smile, she gave him a curt nod. Turning on her heel, she left the teenager behind as she strode towards her errant master.
Aizen was in the midst of pummelling Makoto with his warped sword when the Zanpakutō spirit approached. Finally sensing her, his blackened skull snapped upright in the direction of the spirit, and the student council president took the chance to scramble away. Aizen didn't even blink as his prey slipped out of his fingertips – his full attention was on the other half of his soul.
"Kyōka Suigetsu…?" His voice crackled, distorted nearly beyond all recognition. "How? I subjugated you – your powers, your body, your very soul… they should all be under my control!"
"Control?" The Zanpakutō spirit flared her nostrils, a blistering fury shining in her eyes as she gestured to the devastation around them. "Pray tell me, what exactly about this looks like control!?"
Aizen stilled as it finally dawned on him that he'd destroyed the cathedral dedicated to his own worship.
"You made a promise when you earned my name." She continued, every word dripping with poison. "To never blindly follow the whims of anything – not a person, or an institution, or even the gods themselves."
"But I don't – I am beholden to nobody and nothing!" The traitor hissed, his monstrous voice oddly distressed.
"Don't lie to me, Sōsuke!" Kyōka Suigetsu spat, pointing at the Hōgyoku embedded in his chest. "The interlopers are right – you abandoned your principles the second you began to slavishly worship that thing! You believe you subdued it, when it subdued you, reducing you to a mere tool to be used by another man!"
Aizen's eyes widened, and a gurgling noise filled the ruined halls. Fleshy chunks fell off his body as he shed his wings, the lumps melting into white goo as they landed on the ground. His dark skull cracked before crumbling away, revealing normal human skin underneath. Finally, the sludge coating his arms receded, and Kyōka Suigetsu's blade fell out of the former Captain's hand. As the steel touched the floor, the blade shattered into a million pieces. The minuscule fragments were swept away by a steadily increasing breeze, and cool air began to buffet Akira's hair.
"Wake up, Aizen Sōsuke." The shine maiden sighed, sounding so, so tired. "This dream of ours ended a long, long time ago."
The wind increased, and clouds spilled into the ruins of the cathedral. A whirling sea of gold and pink and grey filled Akira's vision, devouring the entire world as the distortion clenching Aizen's heart was blown away.
…..
When Akira returned to reality, he was falling. Winds almost identical to the ones in Aizen's heart washed over him, the picturesque clouds replaced by blues and grey. It took him half a second to realise he was plummeting through Karakura's skies. Pushing through an increasingly painful headache, Akira consolidated Reishi under his feet, stopping his freefall. Exhaustion smashed into him like a hurricane, and the teen's vision briefly blacked out. Still, he somehow managed to force himself to stand upright.
Hueco Mundo, Akechi, Aizen… it was time to see if the Phantoms' desperate strike had paid dividends.
Body trembling, Akira clenched his fists as he surveyed the battlefield. He could still sense Urahara and Yoruichi's Reiatsu, but neither were in the air. The rest of the Phantoms were dotted around the sky, Ryuji and Ann supporting Futaba as Uryū and Makoto leant on each other. Rukia and Renji weren't too much further away – the redhead was half-draped across the petite Shinigami's back, his throat an ugly shade of purple.
Akira didn't have the time to dwell on his allies, however – at that moment, his enemies were far more important. Unlike the Shōten crew, Shido was still airborne – the politician's lips were curled in a grotesque sneer as he glared down at the city, Aizen flanking his side. Meanwhile, Ichimaru stood a little further away from his surviving allies, back facing Akira. He cared not for the silver-haired traitor, however – only his former Captain.
While Aizen hadn't transformed into the misshapen monster he'd turned into in his heart, he wasn't currently entirely human either. The brunet's hair had elongated and the sclera of his eyes were black, the same way they were in his second form. His expression showed none of the arrogance it had in his temple, however, and nor were his eyes dull – instead, they'd widened to the size of balloons, as if he could scarcely believe what he was seeing.
"Bankai: Kamishini no Yari."
Akira didn't see Ichimaru's Zanpakutō extend. One second, the blade was in its sealed form, and the next it was twenty metres longer, piercing straight through Aizen's heart. The silver-haired man's Zanpakutō withdrew almost as quickly as it had struck, like a snake that had bitten its prey and now simply had to wait.
The analogy was more apt than Akira had anticipated. Ichimaru snapped his fingers, a mocking grin emblazoned across his features. "Korose."
A faint look of surprise crossed Aizen's face as the skin around Ichimaru's wound started to disappear. In a matter of seconds, his entire torso had disintegrated, and Akira caught one last look at Aizen's face – the traitor's expression entirely unreadable – before that too was devoured by Ichimaru's poison. In less than ten seconds, there wasn't even a single atom of Aizen's body left. All that remained was the Hōgyoku, which hovered in the air for a split second before plummeting down into Karakura's broken streets.
A look of shocked horror crossed Shido's face. "Ichimaru?! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
The former Captain smirked. "Ain't that obvious? I'm handing in my resignation."
"What about our godhood?!" The politician gaped. "The throne of heaven is nearly in reach!"
A derisive laugh burst out of Ichimaru's mouth. "Hah! You're just as blind as Aizen. Do ya really think I care about that? I've got my own agenda, and I've just completed it."
"Y-you can't do this me!" Shido spluttered, eyes wide. "There has to be something else you want – there always is! Fame, power, women… all of them will be yours if you stay by my side!"
The silver-haired Captain grinned. "Hmm… no thanks. Bye-bye!"
Shido's skin reddened, and his desperate pleas quickly warped into curses as Ichimaru sauntered away.
As the former Captain passed Akira's side, Ichimaru paused, his normally closed eyes opening a tiny slither. "You did good for a human, kid. Those powers of yours… they're almost as creepy as mine." His momentary seriousness quickly faded, and he gave a laconic salute in Rukia's direction. "Oi, Kuchiki. Tell the Gotei 13 they ain't ever gonna see me again."
With that, Ichimaru disappeared in a flicker of shunpo, and somehow, Akira knew he was telling the truth for once in his life.
Shido's red skin blued to an explosive shade of purple as his last fighter abandoned him mere seconds after taking out his ace-in-the-hole. "You treacherous snake…!" He spat. "Whatever – the Gotei 13 is finished, and none of your brats have the power left to fight me. I'll just claim godhood by myself, the way I should have done from the start!"
Akira froze, eyes widening. While Shido's Reiatsu was paltry at best, he was still healthy and armed, while the Phantoms had hit the wall. They were barely even keeping themselves in the sky – a stiff breeze would be all it took to knock them over.
It was then that a voice echoed through the air, however. "That's enough of that, I think."
Shido didn't even get the time to fully turn around before a blade exploded out of his chest, impaling the man's heart. As blood splatted through the air, Wakaba watched impassively as the man ultimately responsible for her death let out his last, gasping breaths. Tessai stood by her side – he'd clearly shunpoed her up there – but it seemed he was more than happy to let the pscientist get the killing blow. Blood dripped from the politician's lips as he fell to his knees, and Wakaba clinically removed her Zanpakutō from his back. Distantly, Akira remembered the woman had mentioned she had one despite her threadbare Reiryoku – he'd just entirely forgotten about it until now.
It didn't take long for Shido's spirit to coalesce, his Chain of Fate well and truly broken. His eyes widened in panic as he realised what had happened, but Wakaba pressed the hilt of her sword down on his forehead before the scumbag got the chance to scramble away.
"I'll see you in hell one day." Wakaba watched Shido dispassionately, her cold demeanour in stark contrast to his naked panic.
Akira had performed Konsō a thousand times, but never before had he seen one like this. Instead of disappearing into motes of light, Shido's body remained solid and whole as a large, stone gate manifested behind him, the bloody torsos of twin skeletons hanging from the doors. With a loud creak, the gate swung open as a ginormous sword rocketed out from its depths, and impaled Shido like a pin did a butterfly. The politician was still screaming as the blade withdrew back to where it came from, his body still skewered by the iron sword. Shido disappeared into the abyss, and the doors slammed shut behind him, the skeleton's bones jangling as the gate faded away.
"What… what was that?" Ryuji gaped, eyes the size of the moon.
"Hell. Isshiki-san isn't exaggerating." Rukia explained, her lips pressed into a thin line. "If a mortal soul has committed sins that even a Zanpakutō cannot cleanse, they are banished there for all eternity, forever removed from the cycle of reincarnation."
Silence fell across Karakura's skies as each of the Phantoms digested her words. It was a horrible fate, but as Akira stared down at the ruined town beneath him, he couldn't dredge up even a slither of pity for the deceased politician. Wakaba, Futaba, Akechi, Haru, the victims of the Vanishing Incidents, and even Akira himself… Shido had hurt so many people in pursuit of his selfish goals, without feeling even an ounce of remorse for the suffering he inflicted. If there was a single person on this planet who was truly irredeemable, it was him.
It seemed he wasn't the only one who'd come to that conclusion. Renji wrinkled his nose, his voice a raspy wheeze. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy as far as I'm concerned."
"Yeah…" Ann sighed, brows furrowed. "Shido caused such a web of hurt and pain… I don't say this lightly, but the world's better off without him."
It was then that it stuck Akira like a bolt of lightning – Shido was gone. The Phantoms had won.