The noisy, chaotic room, filled with clashing opinions, fell silent the moment Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni entered.
His very presence alone could stabilize the Gotei 13, dissolving all disputes.
Clack, clack, clack...
The wooden door creaked open.
The withered old man, with steady but heavy steps, entered the hall.
It had been a long time since any of the 1st Division members, even those closest to him, had seen him.
Now, finally reunited, they should have been glad—
Yet...
The sight of Yamamoto's current condition tightened everyone's chest.
He was even more hunched and emaciated than ever before.
His once majestic long white beard was completely shorn away.
His steps were unsteady; his form frail.
The muscles under his shriveled skin lacked the firmness of his prime.
His eye sockets were sunken, the light within his eyes unfathomable.
Cough, cough...
A series of short, rough coughs wracked his body, forcing him to lean heavily on his cane—
His Zanpakutō, Ryūjin Jakka,
now mirrored its master's state: weak, dim, lifeless.
The transformation was so severe that one might almost believe this was an impostor.
—Was this truly the once mighty, confident, steady Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni?
Sajin Komamura couldn't help but shout.
"Captain-Commander!"
It was hard to describe the emotion packed into that cry.
Yamamoto merely lifted his left hand in silent acknowledgment.
Taking a deep breath, firming his stance—
For a fleeting moment, the aura of the First Slayer of Soul Society returned.
"Be seated. Wait a moment..."
"I won't speak much."
The Gotei 13 members complied, taking their seats.
Facing his subordinates, Yamamoto's gaze softened slightly.
It was hard to believe...
That the organization, born from blood and death, had grown into something so structured after a thousand years.
"Cough, Chōjirō..."
"Yes, sir."
"Hand me the agenda."
Sasakibe Chōjirō respectfully presented the document.
Yamamoto merely skimmed it before letting out a deep, weary sigh.
"If we followed this to the letter, the meeting would last three hours at least."
"This old body can't endure such drudgery anymore..."
Chōjirō smiled wryly.
—Knew it. As expected. Absolutely hopeless!
"First topic: new Captain appointments."
At his words, several familiar figures entered, wearing haoris once again.
For a moment, many were thrown back in time—
Hinamori, Hitsugaya, and the rest gazed on, stunned.
"Third Division: Muguruma Kensei."
"Fifth Division: Hirako Shinji."
"Ninth Division: Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō."
The exiled Vizards, falsely accused, were now reinstated.
"Any objections?"
Of course not.
Especially now, with the Gotei weakened.
The trio themselves showed easy familiarity.
Kensei crossed his arms with a grunt.
"What a sorry lot you all are."
Rōjūrō flipped his long hair playfully.
"Well—technically, we're all victims here. Let's not cause more trouble."
Hirako grinned widely.
"We're back in our posts. Meanwhile, some unlucky souls won't get that chance."
The crowd snickered knowingly, glancing at Komamura.
Poor Love Aikawa.
Not everyone could reclaim their seats.
Still, the overall strength of the Gotei had undeniably grown.
"However..."
Yamamoto's gaze sharpened.
"You are aware of the rules, yes?"
The three immediately nodded.
"No use of Hollow powers within Seireitei."
Hirako shrugged.
"Still clinging to meaningless rituals, huh? Those damned nobles..."
Yamamoto offered no rebuttal.
His duty was merely to enforce the rules, not debate them.
"Be cautious."
"Understood."
The first agenda item settled, Yamamoto continued.
"Second: I am stepping down as Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13."
...
Stunned silence.
Followed swiftly by chaos.
"Captain-Commander! Surely you jest!"
"Please withdraw that statement!"
"We can pretend we didn't hear it!"
Cries filled the hall.
But Yamamoto remained unmoved.
He had anticipated this.
"I am already a dead man."
Pulling open his robes—
He revealed a horrifying scar splitting his body nearly in two.
"To survive, I had to remove and replace several organs."
"It is no longer a matter of pride or honor."
The room fell into stunned stillness.
Someone hesitantly spoke up:
"But... couldn't the 12th Division restore your body?"
Mayuri Kurotsuchi snorted disdainfully.
"Of course I could. With enough time and resources, I could return him to peak form."
But—
"It was his decision to refuse."
Seiya's Heaven and Earth's End hadn't severed Yamamoto's spine—
but it had broken the will of the "Shura of Soul Society."
"The body can be healed."
"The spirit cannot."
The undefeated Yamamoto had been truly defeated.
He had no more desire to cling to position.
"Within half a month, Central 46 will elect a new Captain-Commander."
This wasn't a discussion.
It was a decree.
"However, in exchange for my resignation..."
"We have been granted the right to judge two criminals."
He paused deliberately.
"Aizen Sōsuke."
"Seiya Arima."
"The Gotei 13 will judge them."
The hall erupted again.
"Those two?!"
"They crushed the old Seireitei..."
"Destroyed our honor..."
"Shouldn't they already be executed?!"
Legends in life.
Legends in betrayal.
And now—
Byakuya Kuchiki rose, placing his palms on the table.
"Death penalty."
"Immediate execution!"
The room boiled with emotion.
Yamamoto raised his hand, calming the storm.
"Patience."
"There is an order to things."
With a knowing nod, Sasakibe gestured behind him.
The doors opened.
White-robed attendants entered, carrying a pale white palanquin.
Inside—
Bound by powerful barriers, surrounded by elite Kidō Corps members—
The first prisoner.
Sui-Feng frowned.
"What's this...?"
Kyōraku explained casually:
"Top-level Kidō Corps members. Each could have become Great Kidō Chiefs themselves."
Only with such security could they dare face—
The criminal inside.
Kyōraku stepped forward, lifting the veil.
"Aizen Sōsuke."
"Do you feel any regret?"
The man inside raised his head slightly.
And smiled.
A smile of mockery.
"Allied forces of defeated relics and crumbling fools?"
"As the first sight upon waking..."
"Truly sickening."
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Powerstones?
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