The spectral wolves summoned by Starrk lunged as one, a tide of condensed, howling reiryoku. Sosuke Aizen watched their approach with a gaze of utter detachment. Only when the foremost constructs were within arm's reach did he deign to speak, his voice calm and clear.
"Hadō #81: Dankū."
A translucent, rectangular wall of shimmering energy materialized before him. The wolf pack crashed against it in a cataclysmic detonation of blue light and concussive force. The barrier held without a tremor, the devastating power washing around it harmlessly, unable to breach even an inch.
"Starrk, have you forgotten? I once took samples from each Espada for my research. I understand the nature of your abilities perfectly." The shockwave from the explosion whipped Aizen's hair and robes, yet he stood immovable, his eyes never leaving the Primera Espada. "In raw output, it is commendable. A pity, then, that the delivery is so… languid."
Aizen vanished. Starrk's eyes widened, his will commanding the remaining wolves to pivot, but they were already chasing a phantom.
"Too slow."
The voice came from directly in front. Starrk barely registered the flicker of steel before instinct screamed at him. He threw himself backward with a burst of Sonído, but not fast enough. Kyōka Suigetsu traced a clean, precise line across his chest and gun-wielding arm. Aizen stood where Starrk had just been, the tip of his blade glistening with a single, falling drop of crimson.
Starrk landed roughly, a new stain spreading across his grey jacket. A deep, burning gash marred his arm.
"Hey! Starrk! You missed again?!" Lilynette, in her lupine form, barked from the flank, her voice laced with worry.
"What can I do? He's a monster," Starrk sighed, the weariness in his voice more profound than any physical pain.
"Starrk, do you know why I designated you the Primera Espada?" Aizen inquired, not pursuing the attack, his tone almost conversational.
"Who knows? I was never as strong as the old king," Starrk grunted, naturally referring to Baraggan Louisenbairn.
"Among the Espada, you represent the aspect of death known as Solitude. That is the primary reason. Merely being a natural Arrancar would not have warranted such a ranking." Aizen's gaze was analytical, dissecting. He never chose subordinates for strength alone, but for the symbolism they carried, the potential they represented. In Starrk's loneliness-born power, Aizen saw a dark reflection of his own transcendent isolation—a being so far removed from others that connection became impossible. Starrk, in Aizen's view, possessed the latent potential to embrace that emptiness and ascend. "You had the capacity to understand the loneliness at the pinnacle. To overcome it by accepting its necessity."
"However, you have proven a disappointment. You do not overcome your solitude; you flee from it. You cling to companionship as a crutch." Aizen's sigh held a note of genuine, if condescending, regret.
"Sorry, Aizen-sama. It seems I'm just… an ordinary guy after all," Starrk replied flatly. The pursuit of strength for its own sake held no appeal. His hands emerged from his pockets. With a thought, the swirling pack of wolves dissolved and reformed, coalescing into a pair of sleek, azure greatswords—the true form of Los Lobos. He gripped their hilts, a final, decisive weight settling in his stance.
"Ordinary… What a profound waste." Aizen's words were sincere, and they cemented the philosophy in his heart: true power was a lonely road. Starrk had chosen a side path, and it led only to a dead end.
…
Below, Tier Harribel stirred, consciousness returning through a haze of agony. Pushing herself up, she looked skyward in time to see a spray of blood erupt from Coyote Starrk's form as he was driven from the air, impacting the ruined earth with a force that shook the ground.
"Impossible… Even the Primera…" Harribel whispered. She had never doubted Aizen's strength, but the sheer, effortless totality of his dominance was a chilling revelation. His white kosode remained pristine, unmarred by dust or blood.
"No… I must…"
Shakily, driven by the aspect of Sacrifice that defined her existence, Harribel forced her broken body forward. She would not stand idle.
Coyote Starrk lay in a shallow crater, coughing weakly, blood flecking his lips. "Tch… To think just a few strikes was all it took…" A grim understanding of the chasm between them finally settled in his bones.
Aizen descended gracefully before him. With a casual, almost ritualistic motion, he reached into his own chest and withdrew the glowing, purple-black orb—the incomplete Hōgyoku. He extended it towards the fallen Espada.
A lance of pressurized water, sharper than any steel, shot from the side, forcing Aizen to take a single, measured step back.
"Harribel. To retain consciousness after such an injury is praiseworthy tenacity." His praise was frost. "Then, I shall attend to you first."
He vanished. The air beside Harribel rippled, and Aizen was there, his voice a soft, deadly murmur. "Hadō #90: Kurohitsugi."
Dark, coffin-like pillars of pure black energy erupted from the ground around Harribel, sealing her within before she could even gasp. An oppressive, crushing force filled the space. Then, with a sound like shattering obsidian, the pillars collapsed inwards. When the darkness dissipated, Harribel stood, barely, her body crisscrossed with deep, bleeding lacerations, her uniform in tatters. Her legs buckled.
Aizen caught her by the throat before she could fall. "It was troublesome, having to precisely modulate the output of an incantation-less Kurohitsugi to avoid fatal disintegration. Had you simply perished, it would have been… inconvenient." He lifted her effortlessly, holding the Hōgyoku before her fading vision.
Harribel's strength was gone. Resistance was a distant concept. As the orb's light filled her sight, she felt her consciousness ebb.
"Harribel… Lilynette… is in your care."
Starrk's voice, faint but clear, reached her. It was the last thing she heard before darkness took her.
With a final surge of will, Starrk released his Resurrección. The remaining spiritual wolves flowed back, reforming into the unconscious, small form of Lilynette on the ground nearby. Using the very last of his strength, he propelled Harribel's limp body away from Aizen, sending her tumbling to safety near the child.
"Alright, Aizen-sama. Even if you just used us… you did help me find real comrades. Let this be my final… courtesy."
Aizen's face remained an impassive mask. He merely redirected the Hōgyoku towards Coyote Starrk. A soft light emanated from the orb, and Starrk's body began to dissolve from the feet upward, turning into streams of glittering spiritual particles that were drawn inexorably into the gem's core.
'Sorry, Lilynette. I'm breaking our promise. It seems 'walking on forever'… isn't in the cards for me. But at least… you won't be alone like I was.'
Coyote Starrk offered one last, weary glance towards the distant, sleeping form of his other half, and then closed his eyes.
He vanished completely.
The Hōgyoku in Aizen's palm pulsed violently. Then, it erupted with a blinding, profound light—no longer just purple, but a deep, cosmic blue-black that seemed to swallow the surrounding light. The spiritual pressure radiating from it spiked, becoming dense, heavy, and alarmingly potent.
Aizen closed his eyes, sensing the change within the artifact. A slow, genuine, and terrifying smile spread across his lips, one of pure, unadulterated triumph. The joy in his heart was a palpable force.
With a conscious thought, he released the omnipresent hypnosis of Kyōka Suigetsu.
On the battlefield, the fractured reality snapped back into a single, coherent truth. The Shinigami and Visored halted mid-action, their attacks hitting empty space where Aizen's illusion had been.
"Where is Aizen?!" "This… this was all an illusion! We never touched him!"
"There!" Someone pointed upward.
All eyes turned. Sosuke Aizen hovered serenely above them, having already ascended. He looked down upon the gathered forces, his smile benevolent and utterly chilling.
"You have all worked very hard," he announced, his voice carrying easily across the silent battlefield. "Fighting so earnestly against phantoms for all this time."