For the Quincy, the past nine hundred years could be summed up in a single word
Exile.
Nine hundred years ago, under the command of His Majesty Yhwach, the Quincy were once a force powerful enough to stand toe-to-toe with the Shinigami.
Had they won that war, it would have been the Quincy not the Gotei 13—who ruled the three realms today.
But they lost.
And because of that defeat, they were hunted, purged, and driven to extinction by the Shinigami.
The situation of the Quincy who remained within the Soul Society was even more dire.
Those few survivors, under the leadership of a single man, retreated into the shadows of Seireitei, carving out a hidden sanctuary composed entirely of Reishi.
Over centuries, that sanctuary expanded, layer by layer, until it became what it was now—
The Wandenreich.
But that did not mean their leader had become a second emperor.
Although he wielded tremendous power and authority, not all Quincy truly submitted to him.
The reason was simple.
These nine hundred years had been too suffocating.
The older Quincy—those who had survived the war—still remembered the terror of that battle.
They knew how catastrophic their defeat had been.
But the Quincy born after that era thought differently.
They were born with immense power.
They were taught that they were chosen.
So why should they live in hiding?
Why should they fear Shinigami?
Why should they endure humiliation in the shadows?
Such resentment was not new.
In the past, similar Quincy had chosen to seek power through reckless means.
Those who possessed strength but refused to live quietly had always existed.
As a result, internal contradictions within the Wandenreich had been festering for centuries.
And one hundred years ago, when Quincy in the World of the Living were exterminated, that resentment flared once again.
Within the Wandenreich, voices had long been calling for war.
Why wait?
Their palace was already built beneath Seireitei itself.
One surprise assault would be enough to annihilate the heart of Soul Society.
But those voices had always been suppressed.
By one man.
He stood tall within the frozen palace.
Golden hair, calm eyes, and a presence as unwavering as steel.
His name was
Jugram Haschwalth.
The Grandmaster of the Sternritter.
And the man entrusted to act as His Majesty Yhwach's other half during his slumber.
At this moment, every Sternritter had gathered before him.
Their gazes toward Haschwalth were complicated.
Some respected him.
Some obeyed him.
Some merely endured him.
Bazz-B stepped forward, flames flickering faintly around his fingers.
"Jugram," he asked bluntly,
"what happened?"
Haschwalth did not hide the truth.
"There are enemies," he said calmly.
"They have invaded the Wandenreich."
The moment those words fell, the expressions of many Sternritter changed.
Some of the older Quincy—those who had survived the ancient war—felt their hearts sink.
"Jugram," one of them asked grimly,
"are you certain?"
Haschwalth nodded.
"They have already reached the palace."
Before he could say anything more—
A wave of overwhelming heat tore through the frozen air.
BOOM!!
The Reishi-constructed walls of the palace shattered violently.
Ice and silver fragments were vaporized instantly as a raging inferno burst inward, devouring the cold.
The sacred halls of the Wandenreich collapsed under the sheer force.
Smoke, dust, and burning Reishi filled the air.
Slowly
Figures emerged from the ruins.
"…Well,"
Kyōraku Shunsui said lightly, though his eyes were sharp,
"this is unbelievable. To think there were this many Quincy hiding beneath Seireitei."
Beside him, Jūshirō Ukitake's expression was calm—but cold.
"Shunsui," he said quietly,
"stop joking."
"These are enemies."
Ukitake had always been gentle.
Kind.
Forgiving.
But that kindness had never extended to Quincy.
Especially not Quincy who had secretly constructed a hidden empire beneath Seireitei.
No matter how one looked at it
They were plotting something.
They were enemies.
Kyōraku obediently fell silent.
At the forefront stood Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, Ryūjin Jakka blazing in his grasp.
The flames surrounding him twisted the air itself.
His eyes, sharp as blades, fixed upon the Quincy before him.
"You Quincy," Yamamoto thundered,
"you hid here beneath Seireitei for centuries."
"Now that you have been exposed—"
"Have you prepared yourselves for death?"
On this point, his stance matched Ukitake's completely.
These Quincy had been hiding for an unknown length of time.
How much had they learned about Seireitei?
How many secrets had they uncovered?
There was no room for mercy.
Haschwalth had not expected the invaders to arrive so quickly.
But gathering the Sternritter had been the correct decision.
He met Yamamoto's gaze without flinching.
His voice was steady.
"We accepted death," Haschwalth said,
"the moment we lost our homeland."
Why had they lost that homeland?
Because of the Shinigami standing before them.
That hatred was woven deeply into his words.
Yamamoto heard it.
But he did not respond.
From his perspective, history was clear.
The Quincy had sought domination.
They had attacked Soul Society.
And they had paid the price.
Haschwalth knew there was nothing more to say.
Instead, he turned to the Sternritter.
"Prepare for battle," he commanded.
"The one before you is Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13."
"His Majesty… was once defeated by him."
He gestured again.
"The woman beside him is Unohana Retsu
a founding captain of the Gotei 13."
"The first Kenpachi."
Then the others.
"Kyōraku Shunsui, captain of the Eighth Division."
"Gosuke Shigure, captain of the Eleventh Division."
"Jūshirō Ukitake, captain of the Thirteenth Division."
"These are not ordinary Shinigami."
"These are the strongest pillars of today's Gotei 13."
The Sternritter listened in silence.
Their expressions were solemn.
But
There was no fear.
Only anticipation.
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