"Gin has yet to utilize his Bankai… It seems he remains quite composed in handling Amamiya Miyako." Sosuke Aizen observed the distant clash, his expression one of mild approval. In his assessment, Ichimaru Gin's swift, lethal style was the natural counter to the peculiar abilities of Amamiya's Zanpakutō.
"In that case, I should accelerate my own progress," Aizen murmured, turning his gaze back to the primary assembly before him.
The Primera Espada, Coyote Starrk, and the Tercera Espada, Tier Harribel, now stood alongside the battered Shinigami and Visored. To use them as catalysts for the Hōgyoku's final maturation, he first had to clear the board of these lingering obstructions. A growing sense of impatience, a rare sensation for him, began to stir. The formidable Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni still loomed on the periphery, a dormant volcano. Once the Hōgyoku was complete, Aizen intended to fuse with it immediately; he would brook no further delays.
With renewed fury, the allied forces surged toward him.
Yet, Aizen made no move to defend or evade. He simply stood, watching their approach with detached curiosity.
Tōshirō Hitsugaya, leading the charge, lunged with Hyōrinmaru poised for a decisive strike… and passed straight through Aizen's form as if it were mist. One by one, the others followed—Kensei Muguruma's fist, Shinji Hirako's slash, Shūhei Hisagi's kusarigama—all cutting through empty air. Aizen's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile as he began to walk, unhurried and unopposed, towards Harribel and Starrk.
"What?!" Harribel breathed out, her eyes wide. The scene was surreal; the warriors were fighting a phantom, their attacks focused on a point in space where Aizen no longer stood, if he ever had.
"It's Kyōka Suigetsu, Harribel. Stay sharp," Starrk stated, his voice gravelly with tension. He had hoped for a temporary alliance to turn the tide, but Aizen had effortlessly bypassed it all. The hypnosis was so total, so seamless, that he had simply walked past the entire battlefront.
"But how? He never gave the release command! When did he activate it?!"
"Activate it?" Aizen repeated, now standing calmly before them. He tilted his head slightly, his tone one of gentle admonishment. "Harribel, when did you fall under the illusion that I hadn't activated Kyōka Suigetsu?"
A cold dread washed over her. The trap had been sprung before they even knew they were in it.
"Damn it…" she swore, her grip tightening on Tiburón. The oppressive weight of Aizen's spiritual pressure was a physical force, crushing her resolve.
"It seems our temporary allies are… occupied. Harribel, if you wish to survive, you must commit fully now," Starrk said, raising his twin pistols, Los Lobos. Their muzzles steadied on Aizen.
Understanding, Harribel hefted her massive shark-like blade and erupted forward, a torrent of water swirling around her strike.
"A commendable effort. But at your level, I cannot permit a second exchange." Aizen didn't even shift his stance. With a single hand, he caught Tiburón's edge, the impact dispersing the aqueous force with a dismissive flick of his wrist. In the next instant, he was behind her, Kyōka Suigetsu flashing in a casual, backhanded arc.
Starrk, tracking the movement, fired a blistering Cero at Aizen's new position, but the man was already gone, his sword having found its mark. A crimson line bloomed across Harribel's back. She cried out, a spray of blood arcing through the air as her spiritual pressure plummeted, sending her spiraling toward the shattered ground below.
"Harribel!" Starrk's cry was anguished, but he had no time to check on her.
"Did you believe I was unaware of your intent, Starrk?"
Aizen's voice came from directly behind him. Starrk whirled, crossing his pistols above his head just as the katana descended. The collision was not of equal forces. A sickening crack echoed, not from metal, but from the soul within the weapons.
"Agh!" Lilynette's pained shriek echoed in Starrk's mind.
Starrk's eyes flew wide. Without a second thought, he released his defensive posture, allowing Aizen's blade to slice deeply across his chest as he threw himself backward. The wound was severe, but his focus was entirely on the pistols in his hands. A hairline fracture marred one of the barrels.
"Lilynette! Are you alright?!" he asked, his voice tight with fear.
"I… I'm okay, Starrk. It just… really hurt," came the weakened, shaky reply from within the weapon.
"Oh? You deliberately lowered your guard to spare that child pain?" Aizen observed, not pursuing immediately. He knew the nature of Starrk's unique existence. "How poignant. Loneliness birthed you, yet companionship remains your greatest vulnerability. True strength resides in those who stand alone."
"I never wanted this strength!" Starrk spat, clutching his wounded chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Having someone to share the silence with… that's all that ever mattered to me."
"I see. Even an Arrancar who formed autonomously cannot escape the hollow core of a Hollow's existence. My expectations for you were perhaps misplaced," Aizen said, shaking his head with a hint of genuine disappointment. Then, he vanished.
Elsewhere, the duel between Amamiya Miyako and Ichimaru Gin continued its violent ballet, their battlefield subtly shifting closer to the main fray. Arrows of condensed black and white reiatsu streaked through the sky, met by the relentless, extending thrusts of Shinsō.
"Sosuke Aizen is truly monstrous, Ichimaru-taichō," Amamiya remarked as they crossed blades, his voice low enough not to carry. "He has Captain Hitsugaya and the others expending their courage and cunning in a battle against empty air."
Gin deflected a glancing arrow and retaliated with a swift stab. "Whatever do you mean, Amamiya-kun? Can't you see Aizen-sama is currently engaged with the Primera Espada?" His tone was light, but his eyes, shielded from the hypnosis by Amamiya's barrier, saw the truth perfectly: the Shinigami and Visored were fighting phantoms, while the real Aizen moved unimpeded. The final confirmation solidified his resolve.
Their fight was a carefully choreographed spectacle. The arrow from Amamiya's Bankai, Shinigeki no Kamiyumu - Jōka no Yumi, that had "struck" Gin earlier carried no destructive power—it was the very shield that now allowed him to perceive reality. Their wounds were superficial, artful additions to sell the deception, stains of crimson on white and black fabric that spoke of a fierce struggle, not a fatal one.
…
Back with Starrk, the decision was made. The time for half-measures was over.
"I'm going all out, Lilynette," he said, his voice regaining a measure of its weary calm.
"Yeah… yeah! Let's do it!" Lilynette's voice responded, shedding its weakness for fierce determination.
The twin pistols in Starrk's hands dissolved into azure particles of light. From the swirling energy, a low growl emanated, then another, and another. Dozens of spectral, wolf-like creatures manifested around him, each one a pulsating mass of dense spiritual energy, their maws agape with silent snarls fixed solely on Aizen.
Aizen merely watched, his expression one of academic interest.
"Los Lobos… Indeed, Starrk, you are worthy of the title Primera Espada. The spiritual pressure concentrated in each of these constructs is formidable. It is a shame you did not employ this against the Gotei 13 with such resolve," Aizen commented, a trace of genuine regret in his voice.
"I'm glad I didn't," Starrk replied, his hands now buried in his pockets, a posture of resigned focus. "Otherwise, what would I have left to use against you?" His eyes narrowed. "Cero Metralleta."
He did not shout, but the command was given. The wolf pack did not simply charge. They opened their maws, and from each, not a howl, but a torrent of countless, rapid-fire Cero beams erupted, a storm of blue-white light so dense it blotted out the sky, all converging on the solitary, unmoving figure of Sosuke Aizen.