Silence devoured the scent of blood and death.And the moment that single great eye opened, its indifferent gaze swept across the entire Shin'ō execution pit.
Everything froze.
Fine strands of black mist unfurled across the towering, shadow-forged body. Countless branch-like tendrils spread outward, settling around Kisaragi Mei like a constellation encircling the moon, placing him at the very center.
The bizarre sight—the kind he had never even imagined—made him hesitate, not daring to move recklessly.
The spirit particles hanging in the air began to drift and condense, gathering before the small ceremonial altar. They slowly shaped themselves into a thin, emaciated silhouette.
Seeing this, Shijō Sōya's eyes widened slightly. His usually calm expression cracked for the first time.
Instinctively, he raised his right hand, trembling as he reached toward the figure.
But the instant the human shape sharpened and its face grew clear, Sōya's expression stiffened completely.
That's not my sister…?!
A face both unfamiliar and strangely familiar—like someone he had once glimpsed long ago.
And it didn't stop there.
As the inky shadows continued to spread, body after body emerged from the coagulating reishi—like bamboo shoots bursting through the soil after rain.
Cold sweat slid down Kisaragi Mei's forehead.
He had a pretty good idea what happened.
He had released way too much spiritual pressure during the ritual…And as a result, he had invoked far more of the One-Eyed Kami's response than intended.
Which meant…
Every lingering soul in the execution grounds—had been "revived."
If he remembered correctly…
Shijō Sōya had mentioned only moments ago that nearly his entire clan had died here.
The silhouettes grew sharper, their spiritual presence heavier.
And with their clarity came sound—waves of whispers rising one after another until the once-silent execution pit sounded more like a crowded street market.
"What… what's going on?""Aren't I supposed to be dead?""Who's that punk in the white haori? What an arrogant face.""Why does my body feel kind of… blurry?"
Voices of confusion reverberated through the stone walls, and the sea of black shadows churned violently, as though ready to swallow the entire pit.
"Kisaragi Mei, what exactly is happening?"Shijō Sōya's brows tightened, the situation clearly slipping beyond his grasp.
Those vague forms—Were all of these truly his "family"?
Over three hundred figures now filled the vast pit, crowding it so tightly it seemed ready to overflow.
What is this…?A Shijō Clan family assembly?!
Yet Sōya felt no warmth or nostalgia toward these people.
The Shijō Clan—reeking of greed and rot—had long abandoned their ancestors' honor. Their descent into corruption had brought about the clan's extinction.
In truth, the clan's demise was inseparable from these very individuals.
Because of them, Sōya had endured decades of pain he could never fully escape.
"K-Captain Shijō… maybe you should… talk to your dad?"Kisaragi Mei whispered cautiously. "If I'm not mistaken, that middle-aged balding guy on your left looks a lot like him."
Sōya's expression darkened, blood pressure visibly rising.
He already knew Mei was… unreliable, but dealing with him in person still threatened to break whatever patience he had left.
And then there was Aizen.
That prodigy managed to coexist with this idiot for so long without killing him.Truly admirable.
"Hm? You don't like your dad?"Mei blinked, then pointed behind Sōya."Then maybe you prefer your mom. Three meters back on your left side. You're welcome."
Aizen leaned in and whispered, "Stop talking. Unless you want me to collect your corpse tonight."
Noticing the murderous glare on Sōya's face, Mei snapped into silence immediately.
Against a Captain-class monster like this—
Caution was survival.
After all, who knew whether he'd turn out to be another Unohana-type hidden battle maniac?
Sōya's gaze drifted across countless familiar faces, searching for the one person he wanted to see most.
Years ago, at the very moment the execution-hollow devoured him, he awakened his Zanpakutō—
Amefuri Zakuro.
And then the nobles' time of repentance began.
Agony swept across the spectator stands as Shijō Sōya slaughtered the proud aristocrats in the cruelest ways he could imagine. The execution pit filled with the stench of torn viscera and blood. Not even a single intact corpse remained.
Compared to the swift deaths of the Shijō who perished in the hollow's jaws, the nobles suffered dozens—hundreds—of times worse.
Yet even after vengeance, Sōya found no peace.
Instead, he felt more hollow than ever. Empty. Drifting forward on a path with no end.
Eventually, he found clarity:He would honor his sister's final words.He would become a shinigami of overwhelming strength.
Decades later, he became the Eighth Generation Kenpachi.
Sōya lived by the strictest code, fulfilling his sister's last wish with absolute discipline.
"Northwest side. Inside the prison cell on the wall."
Just as Sōya continued searching, Aizen—silent until now—spoke calmly.
The moment his words fell, Sōya's entire body shattered into countless white particles and vanished.
"You noticed from that far away, Sōsuke?"Mei gasped. "Didn't expect even you to detect his sister's presence."
"No," Aizen corrected with a shake of his head."I didn't see her. I deduced it."
"There is only one prison cell in this entire execution pit.""And according to Sōya's story, that's where he was locked up while watching his family die."
"If his sister cared for him as deeply as the story suggests, then she would naturally appear in that cell."
Hearing this, Mei sucked in a sharp breath.
Aizen's brain really is frighteningly sharp…Calm even under pressure. Logical. Quick.With talent like that, he could accomplish anything.
Compared to the useless drunks running most of Soul Society, Aizen was a one-man demolition crew.
With a friend like this, what great ambition couldn't I achieve?
Mei was just beginning to imagine grand possibilities when—
A jarring voice cut through the revived crowd.
"That damned Shijō brat! How dare he treat me like that?!""Looks like the punishment was too light!""We should have tortured him to death while we had the chance!""Also, why are we mixed with these filthy commoners?!""Where are the shinigami?! Where are those incompetent fools?!"
Vile curses mingled with shrill anger, echoing through the crammed execution pit.
Just as the resurrected aristocrats continued venting their leftover malice—
A lone figure stepped forward, pushing aside the spectral bodies around him.
Kisaragi Mei looked at the grotesque faces before him and felt an overwhelming wave of disgust.
He narrowed his eyes.
His spiritual pressure surged.
Behind him, the colossal black shadow roared to life—waves of darkness sweeping outward like a rising tide, drowning everything ahead.
Since you're already dead…then disappear completely.
May the One-Eyed Great Kami watch over your eternal silence.