(Hueco Mundo)

The white sands of Hueco Mundo had once been drenched in blood after the Quincy invasion. Countless Hollows and Arrancars had perished, and the mighty fortress of Las Noches had crumbled under the onslaught. But time, and a rare material Aizen had discovered long ago, had allowed the structure to slowly rebuild itself. The once blood-soaked battlefield was now eerily calm, marked only by mass graves a few kilometers away—evidence of the silent efforts of a group of cloaked individuals who now sat idly, waiting.

The silence was shattered by a sudden sonic boom.

Zangetsu appeared in front of a lone figure resting against a rock, his voice calm yet commanding.

"King said it's time."

The figure cracked open a single eye, his expression bored. "Yeah, yeah, go away. I'll tell the others."

Shiro merely chuckled, his form beginning to dissolve into swirling reiatsu particles. Just before fully vanishing, he grinned mischievously.

"Do it now, lazy ass!"

And with that, he was gone.

The resting figure sighed in annoyance before standing up and stretching. He raised a hand and tore open a Garganta, the dark void swirling before them. Turning back toward the others, he half-shouted, "Everyone, it's time! Let's go!"

"Finally!" one of the figures growled, cracking his knuckles. "I was getting pissed off just waiting here doing nothing! The King owes me a fight!"

"We all know you'd lose, so why even bother fighting him, mhm~?" another individual teased playfully.

"Shut up."

"Enough." A cold, emotionless voice cut through the chatter like a blade. "Kurosaki-sama has called for us. Let's not keep him waiting."

"Dear Kami, you're even scarier than before! Scary, scary!"

The cold-voiced individual remained silent.

Meanwhile, another figure leaned toward a shorter one, whispering, "Let's make a bet."

"A bet on what, exactly?"

"Who will be the first two to argue in the World of the Living? I got Six and Seven."

"I got Two and Four."

"Bet."

"Can we get a move on?!" A female voice snapped.

"There's no need to yell when we're right in front of you, bitch."

"At least I don't sound like a banshee!"

"To be fair, both of your voices are painful to listen to."

"SHUT UP, SUNG-SUN!"

A dark aura flared around the cold-voiced individual, and their next words carried a quiet, chilling authority.

"I will not repeat myself."

Silence.

"...Sorry," the arguing individuals muttered reluctantly.

One by one, they stepped into the swirling void of the Garganta. As the last individual stood at its threshold, she paused for a brief moment.

'I'll see you soon, my King.'

Then, without another word, she stepped through, and the Garganta sealed shut behind her.

XXXXXXXXXX

A vast emptiness stretched endlessly, shrouded in an eerie, unnatural light. The atmosphere was heavy, pressing down like an invisible weight. At the center stood two figures, locked in a quiet confrontation.

The first figure, clad in flowing robes, exuded an aura of overwhelming presence. His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority.

"It is good to finally see you. You have kept me waiting for quite some time, my son borne in the darkness."

The second figure remained silent, his amber eyes burning with restrained fury.

The first figure smiled. "How interesting. You draw not your blade? How very foolhardy—no, that is not quite right. It would appear that you are hardly defenseless. Your coursing reiatsu is so strong, I can almost see it taking shape." He paused, observing his opponent intently. "You have grown strong. No, that is not correct. This is merely the power you have always truly had."

He stepped forward, extending an open palm.

"Now strike me. Will you attack from the right, or from the left? I look forward to finding out."

A scowl crossed Ichigo Kurosaki's face.

"What the hell are you talking about? I know you can already see exactly how I'm going to attack."

The man nodded. "I will not use my power. I wish to savor this rare opportunity to speak to my son."

Ichigo's grip on his sword tightened. "I already have a father, and it isn't you."

"You speak of Aizen Sōsuke," the man mused. "A father to you, yes, but not your true father. You have already heard the tale of your power's origins, have you not?"

Ichigo's glare darkened. "I have. What about it? You are not my father. You are the man who killed my family and friends!"

A pause.

"I see. So that is what this confrontation is truly about," the man murmured. His expression did not change, yet there was something almost regretful in his tone.

"Surely, you are more than that, Ichigo."

The air between them crackled with tension. Ichigo's grip on his blade tightened, knuckles whitening as he stared at the man before him. The weight of his words settled over him, stirring emotions he had buried long ago.

"You think you know me?" Ichigo's voice was cold, barely restrained. "You know nothing about me."

The figure before him remained calm, his unreadable gaze unwavering. "And yet, I know your soul better than you do yourself. You have spent years wielding power you do not fully understand. But now, you stand at a crossroads."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. "You sound just like Aizen. Always talking in riddles, pretending to know everything. I'm tired of people trying to tell me what I am."

The man chuckled softly, a deep, reverberating sound that carried across the empty void. "Aizen Sōsuke is a man of vision. But his vision is built on control, on reshaping the world to fit his ideals. I am not like him. I do not seek to control you, Ichigo. I only wish to see if you are ready."

"Ready for what?" Ichigo snapped, his reiatsu surging involuntarily. The very ground beneath them trembled as his spiritual pressure spiked.

The man simply smiled. "To accept what you are."

Without another word, Ichigo moved. He vanished in an instant, a blur of speed, reappearing behind his opponent with Zangetsu already mid-swing. His blade cut through the air, aiming for the man's back.

A single, effortless step to the side was all it took to avoid the strike.

Ichigo's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't hesitate. He twisted his wrist and sent a second, sharper strike upward, aiming to cut through his enemy's torso.

Again, his opponent sidestepped, his movements impossibly fluid.

Ichigo leaped back, panting slightly, his frustration building. "Tch. So you're just going to dodge?!"

The man regarded him with mild amusement. "If that is all you are capable of, then I must say, I am disappointed."

Ichigo gritted his teeth. Without hesitation, he raised Zangetsu high and roared, "Getsuga… TENSHOU!"

A wave of crackling black and red energy exploded forth, roaring across the space between them. The blast consumed everything in its path, tearing apart the ground as it surged toward the man.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, from within the swirling mass of destructive energy, a shadow moved.

The man emerged unscathed, stepping through the dissipating energy as if walking through a summer breeze. Not a single trace of damage marred his form.

"Not bad," he admitted. "But not enough."

Ichigo barely had time to react before his opponent moved.

A mere flicker of motion, and Ichigo felt a crushing force slam into his chest. He barely registered the attack before he was sent hurtling through the void, his body tearing through the air like a meteor. He crashed into the distant ground, a cloud of dust and debris exploding around him.

Coughing, Ichigo struggled to his feet, pain flaring through his ribs. He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and glared at his opponent, who had not even moved from his spot.

"You're holding back," Ichigo muttered, frustration thick in his voice.

"As are you," the man replied. "Show me the true extent of your power, Ichigo. Show me what it means to bear the weight of your name."

Ichigo's grip tightened on his blade. He closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply. When he exhaled, the world around them darkened.

A surge of black and red reiatsu erupted from his body, twisting and writhing like living shadows. His hair grew longer, his Hollow mask forming instinctively over his face. His irises burned gold against the darkness of his sclera.

The change was instant.

Ichigo vanished in an explosion of speed, appearing before his opponent with his blade already mid-swing. The strike connected.

For the first time, the man raised his hand.

The moment Ichigo's blade met his palm, a shockwave burst outward, shattering the ground beneath them. Ichigo pushed forward, pouring every ounce of strength into the attack.

The man merely smirked.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent Ichigo flying once more.

Ichigo barely had time to recover before his opponent appeared before him. A sharp blow to his stomach sent him crashing into the ground once more, carving a deep trench through the earth.

Coughing, Ichigo forced himself to stand. His vision blurred for a moment, but he shook it off. He wouldn't lose here. Not to him.

"I see now," the man mused. "You are still fighting with restraint. Even with all that power, you refuse to let go."

Ichigo scowled. "You're damn right. I don't lose control. That's what makes me stronger."

A low chuckle. "No, Ichigo. That is what makes you weak."

Before Ichigo could react, the man raised his hand.

A sudden, crushing force bore down on him, pressing him into the ground with an overwhelming weight. His breath hitched as his knees buckled, his body sinking under the pressure.

"I will ask you one last time," the man said. "Are you ready to accept what you are?"

Ichigo clenched his fists. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions. He thought of his friends, of his father, of the countless battles he had fought. Every step he had taken, every enemy he had defeated—it had all led to this moment.

And yet, something held him back.

He growled in frustration. "I already told you—I don't need to accept anything! I'm Ichigo Kurosaki! That's all I am!"

The man's expression shifted, just slightly. "Then you are still blind."

With a snap of his fingers, the crushing weight vanished. Ichigo staggered but remained standing. He breathed heavily, his muscles aching.

His opponent studied him for a moment longer before nodding.

"You will come to understand in time," he said simply. "For now, our battle ends here."

Ichigo blinked. "What?"

"You are not ready," the man continued, turning away. "But soon, you will be forced to see the truth. And when that time comes, you will have a choice to make."

Ichigo opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, the world around him began to dissolve. The void itself cracked, light seeping through the fractures like a shattered mirror.

And then, everything vanished.

Ichigo jolted awake, his breath heavy, body drenched in sweat. His amber eyes flickered as he stared at the dark ceiling above him. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession, his mind still reeling from the battle in his dream. Or was it more than a dream?

He scowled, running a hand through his messy orange hair. He hated this feeling. The feeling of being tested, of being judged. He had spent years fighting to control his power, to wield it on his terms. And now, just like before, someone—something—was telling him he still wasn't enough.

"Tch," he scoffed under his breath, sitting up on his king-sized bed. The room was dark, but his senses were sharp enough to detect the spiritual presences stirring around him.

They had been waiting.

"You looked like you had fun, King!" Shiro's voice rang out, his playful tone barely masking his underlying interest.

Ichigo turned his head toward the corner of the room, where the silhouettes of his Inner Spirits were materializing.

Juha Bach, his Quincy aspect, stood with his usual regal posture, his piercing gaze unreadable. The Reiō, or at least what he perceived as the spirit of the Soul King, loomed with a quiet, godlike presence, his very existence unsettling in its stillness. And then, there was her.

Ayumi.

She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her ethereal beauty contrasting with the sharp intensity in her eyes. Her dark, waist-length hair flowed like ink, and her black and crimson robes accentuated the dangerous power she held within.

"Another trial, it seems," Juha finally spoke, his voice calm but laced with knowing. "And you still hesitate to listen."

Ichigo exhaled sharply. "Don't start, old man. I've had enough riddles for one night."

Juha merely chuckled. "Then tell me, what exactly did you see?"

Ichigo clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Him."

Shiro's grin widened. "Oh? You mean that bastard? The one who tried to lecture you like he knew everythin'?"

Ichigo didn't respond immediately. His golden eyes darkened. "He wanted to see if I was ready."

Silence filled the room.

"And are you?" the Reiō finally asked, his voice void of emotion.

Ichigo didn't answer. Instead, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "I need air."

Shiro tilted his head. "Oho~? Midnight stroll? How dramatic, King."

Ayumi watched him carefully, then spoke for the first time. "You're trying to make sense of it."

Ichigo didn't confirm nor deny it. He simply turned toward the balcony, his black silk robe shifting as he walked.

"This conversation isn't over," Juha called after him.

Ichigo paused, but didn't turn around. "I know."

Then, he was gone.

Forest Path – Midnight

The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heat still lingering in his body. The soft rustling of leaves, the distant hoots of owls, and the gentle crunch of dirt beneath his feet provided a momentary peace.

Ichigo walked aimlessly, hands stuffed into the pockets of his robe, his thoughts circling back to the confrontation in his dream.

Was it truly just a dream?

He had felt everything—the weight of the battle, the crushing force of his opponent's power, the sheer frustration that clawed at his mind. And worst of all, he knew that the man—no, that being—had been holding back.

"You will understand in time."

Ichigo gritted his teeth. He hated waiting. He hated not knowing.

A sudden shift in the air made him stop.

His amber eyes flickered toward the shadows beyond the trees. He remained still for a moment before exhaling through his nose.

"Tch. I have no interest in playing hide and seek," he muttered coldly.

Silence.

Then—

Clap. Clap. Clap.

A slow, deliberate applause echoed through the empty forest. The voice that followed was smooth, feminine, and laced with amusement.

"Impressive. I had thought myself well hidden, yet you detected me with ease. You continue to exceed expectations, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Ichigo turned his head slightly, his expression remaining impassive. His gaze locked onto the shadow, barely illuminated by the moonlight.

"I don't talk to shadows," he said, his tone laced with irritation. "So please step into the light and let me see you, Aura Michibane."

Silence followed his words, thick and expectant.

Then, in a blink, the shadow was gone—vanishing in a flicker of green energy.

Ichigo's instincts flared.

He moved.

The ground where he had been standing exploded as a massive dragon composed entirely of water surged up from below, crashing down with enough force to split the earth apart. Ichigo shot into the air, his body automatically shifting into a battle stance.

He barely had time to register the second attack.

Above him, a new dragon formed—this one molten, its body composed of flowing lava, glowing a deep, malevolent red. The burning serpent roared as it dove toward him, heat distorting the air around it.

Ichigo didn't hesitate.

His finger twitched, and in an instant, a concentrated Cero blasted from its tip. The crimson energy beam collided with the lava dragon mid-air, the two forces clashing violently before canceling each other out in a fiery explosion.

A chuckle sounded from behind him.

"Nice reflexes."

The moment the words reached his ears, Ichigo's body moved on instinct.

His hand flashed to his Zanpakutō. In one fluid motion, he unsheathed it and spun, his blade cutting through the air toward the source of the voice.

His swing halted just before slicing through the delicate skin of a woman's throat.

Aura Michibane stood before him, completely unfazed. Her head tilted slightly, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Now that she was fully visible, Ichigo took in her appearance.

She was stunning.

Short black hair, cut asymmetrically, the left side flowing longer than the right. Her outfit was unlike most he had encountered before—a tailored black business suit that hugged her form with an effortless elegance, paired with a crisp white scarf draped around her neck. A golden, X-shaped lapel pin rested on the chest of her jacket, gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

Yet it was her face that held his attention.

Sharp, refined features. Golden eyes that glowed with confidence, intelligence, and just a hint of amusement.

She smirked.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her voice carrying a knowing lilt. "You seem shocked."

Ichigo didn't respond. He couldn't.

Because his mind was currently screaming.

'…King?'

'What, Shiro?'

'Kirio and Senjumaru are a 9 and 8, right?'

'Yeah…?'

'SHE'S A FUCKING TEN!'

Ichigo almost twitched.

'More like an 11!'

He internally winced at the absolute giddiness in Shiro's voice. He was about to tell him to shut the hell up when—

His entire world exploded.

Fire and large spheres of water struck him all at once.

Pain flared across his body as he was sent hurtling backward, crashing into the ground with enough force to leave a crater in his wake. Smoke and dust billowed into the air, masking the battlefield in a thick haze.

A low groan escaped Ichigo's lips as he pushed himself up, his robes scorched and crackling with residual energy. His eyes burned with irritation as he looked up.

Aura was still standing where she had been, her smirk unwavering.

"Aw, did I break your concentration?" she asked, her tone carrying an edge of amusement.

Ichigo exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking off the pain.

"Was that really necessary?" he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Aura crossed her arms. "You were distracted," she pointed out. "It was an opening. And I don't waste opportunities."

Ichigo scowled but didn't argue.

She wasn't wrong.

Still, the smug look on her face irritated him.

Shiro was laughing hysterically inside his head. 'HAH! That was worth it! You got wrecked, King!'

'Shut up, Shiro.'

Aura took a step forward. "Now that I have your attention…"

Her reiatsu shifted, the weight of it pressing against the air.

Ichigo's expression hardened. He knew that feeling.

She was serious now.

"Let's begin-"

Before she continued with her sentence, a massive ball of fire, large reishi bombs and huge lightning strikes struck the two fighters...and this time it was not Aura's doing.