"Come out, Kyoraku."
As his words fell, Aizen lightly waved his hand. The air rippled like water, revealing the figures of Kyoraku Shunsui and the others.
Kyoraku Shunsui lowered the brim of his hat, looking somewhat dejected, yet his eyes were unusually clear.
He exchanged a glance with Ukitake Jushiro, and both saw a trace of helplessness in each other's eyes.
Naturally, they didn't believe any so-called theory about the world collapsing.
Or rather, whether they believed it or not didn't matter.
With a terrifying existence like Rosse around, whether the world would collapse on its own was irrelevant.
Even if it had been perfectly fine, it would still be played into collapse by that madman Rosse.
In a sense, that conclusion wasn't wrong.
Moreover, they had been brought here by Aizen.
The fact that Kirinji could see them was definitely within Rosse and Aizen's calculations.
This was an open scheme.
"Go on."
Rosse looked at them with a smiling expression, like a generous god granting mortals their final mercy.
"Aren't you still planning to struggle a bit? Don't want to admit defeat yet? Now the opportunity is right in front of you. Don't you want to try?"
He spread his hands, his tone full of temptation.
"I won't interfere. How many people you can rally in the Soul Society, how big a resistance you can build, that all depends on your own ability. But I have a small condition, you can't reveal my true identity, and you can't disclose the truth of the world."
"However…", Rosse's tone shifted, and his eyes turned playful, "you can say openly that I want to devour the Soul King. Just shape me into an ambitious schemer who will stop at nothing for power. That makes for better drama, doesn't it?"
This play already had its script written and its stage set.
Now, all that was missing was for the actors to step onto the stage themselves.
"Alright!"
Kyoraku Shunsui took a deep breath and agreed almost without hesitation.
Even knowing it might be a trap.
Even knowing that bastard Rosse had orchestrated everything, and they were like puppets on strings, with almost no chance of winning.
But as long as there was even a sliver of hope.
As long as they could unite everyone.
Rosse wasn't truly an all-knowing, all-powerful god. There would always be something he overlooked.
Even if they were barely clinging to life, even if they knew the ending would be death, they still had to make one final struggle to protect the Soul Society.
'What if? What if, a miracle happened?'
"Let's go!"
Kyoraku Shunsui said nothing more. He turned decisively, taking Ukitake and Hirako with him as they headed out of the Twelfth Division.
Their backs looked somewhat battered, yet carried a tragic resolve, though facing thousands, they would still press forward.
Rosse stood where he was, watching them leave, the smile on his lips carrying a deeper meaning.
"Struggle, resist… only the flower of hope that blooms in despair is the most beautiful, isn't it?"
"Even if that flower of hope has been worthless from the very beginning?"
Aizen slightly turned his head, withdrawing his gaze from Kyoraku Shunsui and the others' departing figures, and letting it fall on the man who was looking up at the sky.
His tone was calm, but carried a hint of inquiry.
"Since it is something we grew with our own hands, and something destined to be trampled by us at will, doesn't that so-called beauty seem somewhat too hollow?"
At this moment, Aizen, though already standing near the pinnacle of the Soul Society, was still a strategist who schemed for evolution and truth.
In his view, since the outcome was already determined, the twists and turns of the process were merely stepping stones to the throne. Only efficiency and results were eternal truths.
However, looking at the playful curve at the corner of Rosse's lips, Aizen faintly felt that he had touched upon the tip of his higher domain.
Just like before, when he had watched Kyoraku Shunsui and the others struggle.
"Aizen, you place too much importance on the result."
Rosse turned around, the breeze lifting his haori, making it flutter loudly.
He did not directly answer Aizen's question. Instead, he extended a finger and lightly tapped the air, as if placing a piece on an invisible chessboard.
"For a player, victory and defeat are certainly important. But if the opponent is too weak, or if the game ends too quickly, what enjoyment is there in that match?", Rosse's voice was low and elegant.
"The so-called value has never been determined by objective facts, but by the observer. When we stand above the clouds and look down upon all living beings, their life and death, their love and hatred, in our eyes, it is nothing more than a carefully arranged play."
"A play…", Aizen's dark brown eyes flickered slightly.
He recalled Kyoraku Shunsui's forced composure just now, and Kirinji Tenjiro's furious roar, kept in the dark and powerless.
This was clearly a struggle doomed to be futile.
According to Aizen's past logic, such useless variables should be eliminated as early as possible, to avoid unnecessary complications.
Yet just now, when he personally laid out that situation that made everyone believe there was a sliver of hope, when he watched those heroes seize that false hope as if it were a treasure, a sensation he had never felt before, like a current of electricity, quietly crept up his spine.
It wasn't simply the pleasure of controlling life and death, nor the arrogance of overwhelming power.
It was a kind of pure yet cruel delight, like a child observing an ant nest.
Watching those ants inside this box called the Soul Society, busy struggling to survive, fighting desperately for the fate of their nest, gave him an indescribable sense of artistry.
It was a perspective above all living beings, like that of a creator.
"This feeling isn't bad, is it?"
Rosse seemed to see through that fleeting stir in Aizen's heart and said with a light chuckle,
"Watching them clutch at a straw that doesn't exist in the swamp of despair, watching them burn away all the light and heat of their lives in an illusion called hope, the colors in that are far more brilliant than simple slaughter."
Aizen fell silent for a moment. Then the corner of his lips slowly curved upward. It was no longer his signature gentle disguise, but a genuine smile from the depths of his heart.
"Indeed…"
Aizen murmured softly, as if savoring that subtle aftertaste.
"If we crush them in one step, it would be too dull. Let them believe they can win, let them fall at their highest moment, perhaps that kind of despair is worthy of the finale we've prepared for this world," He admitted it.
That faint trembling pleasure deep in his heart, that sense of dominance over the fate of all living beings, it was indeed intoxicating.
Rosse was not only a pioneer on his path to seeking truth, but more like a generous mentor, gradually shattering his hard shell of pragmatism, releasing the true self hidden deep within his soul, the one called arrogance.
"Looks like you're starting to appreciate this scenery too."
Rosse nodded in satisfaction and said no more. Some things only needed a hint.
A genius like Aizen didn't need excessive instruction. He would find the steps to higher ground on his own.
"Let's go."
Rosse turned and walked toward the laboratory, his back straight and composed.
"Kirinji and Kyoraku, these pieces have already been placed. Next comes a quiet period of appreciation. Let's watch the process together."
"My pleasure."
Aizen gave a slight bow, then stepped forward to follow, walking one step behind Rosse.
The two figures gradually disappeared into the deep shadows of the Research and Development Institute, like two demonic gods about to overturn the world, strolling through a garden that belonged only to them.
And beneath their feet, countless invisible threads of fate were slowly tightening.
———
[First Division Barracks, Kirinji's Resting Quarters]
This place had originally been where Captain-Commander Yamamoto trained. Now it had been temporarily opened and was being used as Kirinji's resting place.
Kirinji sat cross-legged in the center. At this moment, the arrogance he had before was gone, replaced only by deep exhaustion.
He hadn't lit a lamp.
In the dim room, Kirinji held an unlit grass stem in his mouth, his gaze dark as he stared at a patch of shadow in the corner.
"Come out. You've been following me all the way. Aren't you tired?"
His voice was low, echoing in the empty room.
After a moment of silence, that patch of shadow rippled like water. Then several familiar figures slowly emerged.
At the front was Kyoraku Shunsui, former captain of the Eighth Division. He lowered his kasa hat, wearing only a plain black shihakusho, completely lacking his usual flashy style.
Behind him were the exhausted-looking Ukitake Jushiro, and Hirako Shinji, arms crossed, looking irritated.
"I already guessed it…"
Kyoraku Shunsui gave a bitter smile and casually sat on a cushion, that sense of powerlessness almost spilling out.
"But being discovered so easily still feels a bit unpleasant, Lord Kirinji. All the way here, whether it was Captain Chojiro or the other squad members, everyone treated us like we were air."
"Hmph! Aizen and Rosse's trick, right?"
Kirinji casually spat the grass stem aside. There was no trace of pride in his eyes at seeing them. Instead, they grew even more serious.
"It's not that I discovered you. It's that Aizen deliberately made me release my spiritual pressure, deliberately let me discover you. This is a trap, an open scheme. You have no choice but to step into it, and I have no choice but to accept it."
He didn't even need to think to know that Rosse and Aizen were trying to use the method they used to deceive Hikifune Kirio on him.
The only difference was that Kyoraku Shunsui and the others in front of him were real, while that situation with Hikifune Kirio had been pure deception.
But in truth, Kirinji could also guess what Rosse and the others were thinking.
Wasn't it just confidence?
Wasn't it just believing he could do nothing?
Wasn't it just wanting to see what waves he could stir?
It didn't matter. He didn't care about being the center of attention. As long as the result was good, that was enough.
"We know."
Ukitake Jushiro let out a soft sigh, "But this is the only chance to make contact with you."
The room fell into brief silence again.
This feeling of knowing they were being manipulated, yet still having to follow the script, made everyone present feel suffocated.
They were like insects trapped inside a glass bottle, while someone outside watched with interest to see how they struggled.
"Talk."
Kirinji rubbed his temples, "I've only been down here a few days. What the hell has the Soul Society turned into? What exactly has that Rosse done?"
This was indeed his only channel to understand the truth.
Even knowing that Kyoraku Shunsui might not know much, he still had to ask.
Kyoraku Shunsui sighed and didn't hide anything, pouring out everything that had happened during this period, along with all the intelligence they had gathered about Rosse.
From how Rosse entered the Soul Society, how he sidelined Central 46, to how he used the crisis of infiltration in Hueco Mundo to set up a scheme that led to Captain-Commander Yamamoto being killed by him in full view of everyone, to the complete collapse of the defenses in the World of the Living, Urahara Kisuke's fate unknown, and the near annihilation of both the former Visored group and the Quincy faction.
Every word was like a heavy hammer, smashing into Kirinji's chest.
"As for Hueco Mundo…", Kyoraku Shunsui's voice was hoarse, "it's already become his backyard. Right now, Rosse holds the position of Captain-Commander of the Shinigami and ruler of Hueco Mundo. On top of that, he has a reputation within the Gotei 13 like that of a reborn parent."
Kirinji didn't speak for a long time after hearing this.
After a while, he finally spoke, his voice dry, "So in other words, across the three realms, aside from a few rats like us here, everyone else is singing his praises?"
"More or less," Ukitake said with a bitter smile.
"Heh! What a grand move," Kirinji laughed at himself, "Let me be clear with you too. If you're hoping for Squad Zero to come down and save the day, give up on that idea."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over them, "Other than me, Squad Zero won't send anyone down. Oetsu and Ichibe will remain as the final defense of the Soul King Palace. Hikifune Kirio and Shutara Senjumaru have already betrayed us."
"Sigh…"
Kyoraku Shunsui let out a breath, but didn't mention that the previous Shutara had been a fake.
Because the result was the same.
Even if Shutara was still alive, she was undoubtedly imprisoned or controlled. That was no different from betrayal.
Despair.
At this moment, the air in the room seemed to solidify.
The enemy's strength wasn't just in force, but in the overwhelming tide that seemed to control everything.
Rosse didn't even need to act. As long as he did nothing and maintained the current situation, give it another two years, and someone in the Gotei 13 might even propose crowning him and marching to the Soul King Palace, asking him to take that supreme throne.
Their resistance right now looked so ridiculous and powerless.
"I'm telling you guys!"
In the deathly silence, an impatient voice suddenly broke through.
Hirako Shinji ran a hand through his blond hair, grinning to reveal his signature white teeth, his tone full of mockery.
"Why do all of you look like you're at a funeral? The fight hasn't even started, and you're already mourning yourselves?"
Everyone turned to look at him.
"The situation's already this rotten, which means it's hit rock bottom, get it?", Hirako Shinji rolled his eyes, "Since it's completely screwed, how much worse can it get? Worst case, we die. If we're going to die anyway, then let's make it big! If we don't resist, Rosse might just laugh himself to death in that lab. You want to see that smug face of his? Huh?"
"If you keep quiet, will that scare Rosse to death?"
Hirako Shinji's words were crude but made sense, like a gust of wind that blew away the suffocating gloom.
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