The Senkaimon's light settled into a long, white corridor stretching forward like a spine of paper lanterns. Rukia stepped in first — precise, measured, rigidly professional — and Ethan followed a step behind, senses sharpened.
The moment the gate closed behind them, the air changed.
Dense.
Pressurized.
Alive.
Ethan had passed into spiritual thresholds before, but this was different. The Dangai wasn't just a passage — it was a living ecosystem. Reishi currents moved like underwater tides, brushing against him, pushing, pulling, adjusting.
Beside him, Rukia walked with practiced ease.
"Stay close," she murmured. "Unstable corridors sometimes shift unexpectedly."
He nodded, but his attention kept drifting behind them.
That… thing.
Whatever had touched the gate from the other side…
Wasn't following.
But it was still there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Memorizing the taste of their reiatsu.
Rukia caught the shift in his expression.
"You sensed it again?"
He nodded.
"I didn't want to say it in front of the gate guards, but… whatever pushed against the threshold? It was deliberate. Not a Hollow."
Rukia's grip tightened slightly on her sword hilt.
"Nothing should be able to interact with the threshold unless it's very strong — or very strange."
Ethan didn't say Hybrid, but the thought definitely sat somewhere in the back of his mind. He'd already seen unnatural boundary-crossing creatures during his earlier encounters in Seireitei.
If one was by the gate…
Is that coincidence?
Or a warning?
They continued quickly. Rukia didn't waste time — she had a mission, and Ethan respected the sharp line of her focus.
A Jigokuchō fluttered ahead of them, guiding them as the end of the corridor finally came into view: a faint glow, the human world bleeding color into the whiteness.
Rukia slowed.
"…I don't know what state the living world will be in," she admitted quietly. "But if something is interfering with Hollows, we must take precautions."
That was as close as she'd come to saying she was uneasy.
Ethan adjusted his medical kit, but he already knew why Unohana had sent him.
Unohana didn't do anything without intent.
And if something abnormal lurked in Karakura…
Ethan might be the early warning before the entire plot ignited.
Rukia drew a controlled breath, lifted her zanpakutō, and stepped through.
Ethan followed.
---
Karakura Town — Nightfall
Color slammed into existence.
The smell of asphalt.
The background hum of streetlights.
The subtle buzz of reishi currents that only spiritual beings could sense.
Karakura was quieter than expected — a stillness hanging like a brewing storm.
Rukia landed lightly beside him on a rooftop, her sandals barely making a sound. She scanned the town with the practiced eye of a trained Shinigami, hand hovering near her sword.
Ethan let his senses spread.
Low-level souls drifted through the streets — unaware, harmless. Reishi clouds rolled lazily along the edges of rooftops. And deeper…
A pressure.
Faint.
Thin.
Wrong.
Rukia felt it too; her head turned slightly.
"You sense that?"
"Yeah." He pointed toward a cluster of residential buildings. "It's small, but heavier than normal Hollow residue."
Rukia frowned. "But there shouldn't be any Hollows yet. That report came from last night."
Meaning whatever this was…
It lingered too long.
Ethan inhaled slowly and used a low-level detection sweep — something Unohana had subtly trained into him during field drills. His Panel assisted quietly, boosting perception without flaring his signature.
A pulse answered him.
A presence.
Or… a scar.
Rukia immediately noticed. "What did you pick up?"
"Residual spiritual tearing. Something pushed through here — not just a Hollow. More like… something forcing its way into a space it shouldn't occupy."
Rukia stiffened.
"That's—"
She didn't get to finish.
A boom echoed across the sky.
A sharp, explosive crack of reiatsu rupturing the atmosphere.
Rukia snapped to the source — far to the west.
"That's a Hollow," she said, voice tightening. "A strong one."
Ethan didn't argue.
This was where it began in canon.
But something was wrong.
The Hollow's signature was off — fragmented, jittering, flickering.
"Ethan," Rukia said, voice firm. "Return to the staging point. This is a combat situation."
He blinked. "I'm not leaving you."
"This is not up for debate."
Ethan stepped forward until he met her eyes.
"You want Unohana to scold you? Because if you think she sent me here just to walk home when the first Hollow breathes wrong, you don't know her as well as you think."
Rukia's jaw tightened — frustration, but also reluctant recognition.
"…Fine," she said at last. "Stay behind me. And do not — under any circumstances — enter direct combat."
Ethan nodded.
Rukia turned toward the Hollow's reiatsu.
But Ethan's eyes remained on the other direction.
Because something else had noticed the Hollow too.
Something Ethan recognized from the threshold.
A second signature rippled through the air — faint, invisible to Rukia.
Hybrid.
Watching.
Waiting.
Following the scent of the first spark of destiny.
Ethan exhaled.
"Yeah," he murmured. "The plot's starting, alright."
Rukia leapt across the rooftops.
Ethan followed, heart pounding — not with fear, but with the weight of what was about to begin.