Within the walls of the Seireitei, countless Shinigami were still locked in desperate combat against invading Menos.
Even when they saw Arrancar breach the noble districts, lacking sufficient Captain-class power, the Shinigami could only grit their teeth and watch helplessly.
Captain Unohana Retsu of Squad Four, alongside her Lieutenant Yamada Kiyonosuke, moved swiftly among the wounded, administering emergency treatment.
Lieutenant Sasakibe Chōjirō of Squad One had joined the main defense force, his dominant Bankai pushing back the tide, step by brutal step.
Captain-Commander Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni himself cleaved through the Hollows one after another like reaping wheat—he refused to release Ryūjin Jakka again, but even so, the old flame still burned with deadly efficiency.
In the Twelfth Division, Kurotsuchi Mayuri calmly dispatched every intruder foolish enough to stumble into his subterranean lab. Before the battle even ended, he was already gleefully dissecting the Arrancar corpses, giggling to himself—fresh specimens! At last!
...
The majority of Seireitei's Shinigami were busy.
The nobles were also busy—busy finding places to hide.
But then it happened.
That moment.
The moment Las Noches—a palace seen by few, spoken of in whispers—was wrenched from Hueco Mundo and dropped into the heart of Seireitei.
Everything froze.
Shinigami, nobles, Hollows—every soul stared, stunned.
How... how the hell was that even possible?
And more pressing: who was forcing the King of Hueco Mundo to go this far?
Yamamoto?
"No," said Tōsen Kaname, gravely injured, standing calmly beside Aizen. His wounds oozed, but he made no effort to heal.
"It's Higashi Shuuichi."
Aizen, as always, looked amused, as if history were unfolding precisely according to some perverse aesthetic.
"Hmph," Aizen mused. "So Szayelaporro's been working behind my back. Dragging over the whole palace... I suppose he finally figured out how to use that spatial tech I left him—Kurotsuchi and Urahara's joint development, no doubt."
He sounded disappointed. But his eyes glittered with approval.
Yes. This was how progress happened. By betrayal. By ambition.
By innovation.
"Aizen-sama," Tōsen spoke again. "It's not just the palace. I've received word from Szayelaporro. He also gave Barragan a 'weapon.' His words were, 'If you're letting Barragan go wild in Seireitei, why not give him a little more fire to burn with?'"
Concern shadowed Tōsen's face. He didn't care much for the Espada—neither hatred nor admiration—but this fight involved Higashi Shuuichi.
Aizen's first disciple.
To Tōsen, a comrade in the dream of a just world.
If Shuuichi died here—not by enemy hands, but by allies'—it would be a waste. A betrayal.
"A 'weapon,' you say?" Aizen chuckled, already picturing it.
If it was what he suspected... yes. That could pose a real problem for Shuuichi.
Which only made it more delicious.
Elsewhere, Captain Unohana arrived near Yamamoto's sector. Upon learning that the one battling Barragan was none other than Higashi Shuuichi, she offered a brief, graceful apology... and left the battlefield at once.
Lieutenant Yamada's glare burned like jealous wildfire.
Why?
Why did her heart still lean toward him—that traitor who left Squad Four, who defied the Gotei 13, who had once stood in open challenge before every Captain?
Why did his name still stir her?
Yamada couldn't understand.
But Shuuichi didn't care.
Right now, he stood inside Las Noches itself.
The vast white palace echoed with silence. Only two remained—one Shinigami, one Espada.
His summoned phantoms—those Reishi-built oni—were sealed out beyond the dome.
He could see them, battering the walls, unable to break through.
And he was locked into Pain-for-Gain—no returning to Shikai now. No summoning reinforcements from his Dreamspace Treasury.
If he cancelled that, the debt of the future would crush him immediately.
"If I didn't know your original target was Yamamoto Genryūsai, and that my involvement was pure accident..."
Shuuichi smirked, sweat beading down his brow.
"I'd almost believe you came from the future just to fight me."
His support was gone.
The five hell-forged shadows around him—his ghost-armored protectors—reduced to barely one flickering ember.
What had once been howling wraiths now whimpered like dying dogs.
The plan to end Barragan in one blitz with Dual Bankai?
Dead.
His decay was too monstrous.
Unless one had spatial mastery on the level of the former Vice-Chief of Kido, Ōko Yoruichi, there was no shortcut to beating Barragan.
"Heh heh heh... Shuuichi, you forced me to play the Las Noches card.
Let me show you just what that means."
Barragan's leer widened.
"You think it's just a fortress? No, no. It doesn't just block your little ghosts out. It enhances me."
He had spent centuries preparing for this. For this one act of revenge. He'd even stooped to begging his former subordinate Szayelaporro for forbidden tech—developed jointly by Aizen and his two mad scientists.
As much as Barragan despised Aizen, he had to admit—his creations worked.
Like Las Noches.
He stood tall in its center.
Raised two fingers.
"Body of Death."
And just like that, without warning—Shuuichi's body split into a flickering duality of youth and decay.
He could feel his Pain-for-Gain buffer draining.
Fast. Visibly.
No need for Barragan to explain.
Shuuichi understood.
Las Noches had been converted—its structure and atmosphere now amplified Barragan's power.
It had become a perfect conduit for decay.
The one flaw of Barragan's Respira—its slow activation speed—was erased.
Now, within the palace, he could afflict Shuuichi instantly.
At will.
Without limit.
No defense.
No escape.
If not for Pain-for-Gain, Shuuichi's body would've already crumbled to dust. Not even high-speed regeneration could stop it.
"Well then, Barragan," Shuuichi exhaled. "Let me show you... my trump card."
His face didn't flinch. No panic. No despair.
Only that familiar, maddening smirk.
"You haven't seen this one before, have you?
Tactics of Origin—Killing with Another's Blade."
At the same moment, in the Soul Society... someone received his call.
"Lend me your strength."
A faint laugh.
And then—consent.
Suddenly, the Zanpakutō in Shuuichi's hand changed.
The fire-red blade Barragan once knew vanished.
In its place: a weapon swathed in mist, ephemeral, unreal—like it didn't belong in this world.
"Suppress. All. Reiryoku."
In a blink, Barragan saw it.
All energy flows inside Las Noches—stopped.
Only Shuuichi and Barragan retained spiritual motion.
And Barragan's eyes widened.
The decay on Shuuichi's body—gone.
"Impossible...!"
That arrogant sneer melted from Barragan's face, replaced by disbelief, and behind it—cold, creeping fear.
He knew how powerful Respira was.
Even Aizen, even Starrk—they had no answer. They could only meet force with force.
But this?
Erasure. From the source.
He had never seen it. Never imagined it.
"Nothing's impossible, Barragan."
Shuuichi's eyes gleamed with killing intent.
"Do you know why Hollows will always trail behind Shinigami?
Because our Zanpakutō... are infinite.
You think I spent centuries fighting you and learned nothing?"
He raised his new blade.
"This... is your last meal.
Enjoy."
"No! Death Sigh!"
Decay surged out.
But—
Nothing.
The aura did not respond. It ignored him.
Like disobedient children.
He still felt it. But it wouldn't move.
He took a step back.
He hadn't done that in ages.
Not since the monk slashed away half his spiritual pressure.
Not since young Yamamoto burned him back to Hueco Mundo.
Not since Aizen stole his throne.
This was his fourth taste of fear.
And this time... he saw it in Shuuichi's eyes.
This was no duel.
This was an execution.
He panicked. He raged.
Tried to call the decay again and again—each time met with silence.
Shuuichi didn't move.
He just smiled.
Infuriatingly.
Mockingly.
Until finally—Barragan snapped.
"Higashi Shuuichi! You forced my hand!
Come forth—Artedis Utholi!!"
Glass shattered.
From behind the thrones, a vat exploded—and emerged Artedis, the Arrancar Shuuichi had already seen once before.
He remembered.
Back in the World of the Living, through the eyes of his Quincy body, Kudono Takuya, he had seen this same creature. The one Aizen used to ambush the Kurosaki family.
If he recalled right, Aizen said this Arrancar had been built to counter Yamamoto.
When Shuuichi returned, that project was put on hold.
Clearly, Szayelaporro had ignored that order.
"Lord Barragan, do I really need to step in? That Shinigami looks half-dead from your power already."
Barragan flinched.
"What eyes are you looking with?! He sealed my power, dammit!"
Shameless bootlicking.
Completely off-key.
But Artedis just blinked, puzzled.
"Isn't that wrong? His body is showing massive, unstable fluctuation between aging states.
And your power—look around. The palace is still rotting under your control."
Barragan stared.
Then realization hit.
He'd felt this before.
That day.
The day Aizen strode into Las Noches... and tricked him.
That day, too, he had attacked.
And accidentally struck his own subordinate.
"Damn you, Higashi Shuuichi... I should've known...
You're his dog. Of course Aizen would help you!"
His eyes twisted with rage.
He didn't want the thrill anymore.
He wanted Shuuichi dead.
Aizen could die next.
Even Yamamoto wasn't as important now.
But across from him, Shuuichi's smile hadn't faded.
Not one bit.
"Hey, Barragan... all these years, and you still don't get me.
I hate talking during fights.
So have you wondered yet...
Why I've been talking so much this time?"
Barragan froze.
Shuuichi caressed his blade.
"When, exactly... did you decide...
That what you were seeing...
Must be real?"
Bankai—Dream Collapse, Fragrant Illusion.