Shinigami: Medicine Can't Save The Soul Reaper Society

"What a foolish notion. Do you really believe you have any chance of escape?" Aizen asked, his voice calm but laced with condescension.

Kōga's gaze shifted slightly, and a confident smirk crossed his face. "What a pity. The time I've had has been more than enough to strip your Zanpakutō of their powers. Come! Kyōka Suigetsu! Shinso!"

As Kōga's voice fell, an invisible ripple of energy emanated from Muramasa, and two figures materialized beside him.

One figure appeared shrouded in mist, its form so transparent and ethereal that it was nearly indistinguishable.

The other figure, smaller in stature, was completely cloaked in a white cape, their presence both ominous and mysterious.

It was evident that under Muramasa's influence, Kyōka Suigetsu and Shinso had manifested in physical forms, betraying their original Shinigami masters.

Kōga spread his arms wide, a smug expression on his face. "The power of a Shinigami is the power of their Zanpakutō. Now... your powers are completely under my control."

With a wave of his hand, Kōga gave his command. "Release your pent-up anger and hatred. Destroy your former masters!"

At his order, the cloaked figure of Shinso abruptly unleashed its ability, its target clear: Gin, who had been standing idly to the side, seemingly observing the situation.

Gin tilted his head slightly, the dazzling white blade of Shinso narrowly grazing past his ear. He turned his gaze toward Aizen and called out casually, "Well, well, I must say, Shinso's not holding back, is it? Sorry, Vice-Captain Aizen, seems like I've got my own mess to handle. Can't help you with yours."

Aizen, however, simply chuckled, unconcerned, his eyes instead fixed on the mist-shrouded form of Kyōka Suigetsu as it slowly approached.

Meanwhile, the manifested Shinso displayed incredible speed, launching a relentless barrage of attacks at Gin.

"Gin!!"

The voice that emanated from beneath the white cloak was filled with seething hatred, echoing with every strike.

Gin gracefully evaded, weaving between Shinso's strikes with a fluidity that bordered on inhuman. His ever-present sly smile never wavered.

"Shinso, do you really hate me that much?"

"Of course!!"

The voice from beneath the cloak trembled with barely contained rage.

"Why? Why did you forcibly sever a part of me? All I ever wanted was to protect you! Why would you divide me so cruelly?"

"Clang!"

In a flash, Gin's blade clashed with Shinso's, the identical Zanpakutō tips locked in a tense stalemate.

For a moment, Gin's eyes opened slightly, peering through the cloak as though to glimpse the true form of Shinso's manifested spirit. In a soft voice, he replied, "Because… there's someone I'd protect at all costs. If you know that feeling, Shinso, then surely you can understand me."

Shinso's form hesitated, as though momentarily stunned by his words. But soon, its voice grew even more anguished and wrathful.

"Understand? How could I possibly understand? The only one I wish to protect is you! If you divide me, how can I possibly give you the strength you need to protect yourself?!"

In the next instant, Shinso unleashed another flurry of high-speed thrusts, forcing Gin to retreat again and again…

Watching this unfold, Kōga's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

That's right.

Only a Zanpakutō knows itself fully and can wield its own power to its utmost potential.

Their original wielders could never match the strength of a fully unleashed Zanpakutō!

Shifting his gaze, Kōga turned his attention to Aizen, who stood facing the ethereal form of Kyōka Suigetsu.

But just as Kōga believed Kyōka Suigetsu would overwhelm Aizen, a flash of steel streaked out from Aizen's waist. Without even a chance to resist, the misty figure of Kyōka Suigetsu was cleaved in two.

"Impossible!" Kōga blurted out, his voice involuntarily rising in disbelief.

"What's so surprising?" Aizen replied calmly, his voice steady and confident. "A Zanpakutō's power may vary, but its strength is ultimately determined by its wielder."

As Aizen spoke, he stepped forward, his presence exuding an oppressive aura that filled Kōga with despair.

Aizen's lofty gaze, cold and commanding, made Kōga instinctively take a step back.

At that moment, a series of figures abruptly entered the battlefield, positioning themselves between Aizen and Kōga.

Hirako Shinji, Ōtoribashi Rose, Muguruma Kensei, Kuna Mashiro, Lisa Yadomaru...

The Visoreds had arrived!

"Well, well, Aizen, long time no see. Without your dear captain here to guide you, do you feel a bit lost?" Hirako greeted, his tone casual yet laced with sharp intent. His drawn Zanpakutō, pointed directly at Aizen, betrayed his true emotions.

"Oh? If it isn't Captain Hirako, the one who scurried into hiding like a rat. I must admit, I've grown accustomed to your absence, though I've already begun submitting my application for promotion to Fifth Division captain..."

Aizen's voice was calm and composed, as though he were merely discussing trivial matters.

"And I must say, it's heartening to see you looking so spirited, Captain Hirako. It seems you've successfully bridged the gap between Shinigami and Hollow."

At Aizen's words, the faces of the Visoreds darkened with fury.

"So it was you, wasn't it, Aizen?" Hirako's voice trembled with rage as he demanded answers.

Pushing his glasses up, Aizen replied with a serene smile, "Shouldn't you be thanking me? I've helped you achieve a level of power you'd never imagined."

"AIZEN!!!"

As Aizen's thinly veiled confession hung in the air, spiritual pressure erupted from the Visoreds, their eyes blazing with fury.

Thank him?

For turning them into twisted experiments that blurred the line between Shinigami and Hollow?

For forcing them into an existence as aberrations, neither fully one nor the other?

"You bastard… you're going to pay for this!"

The hot-tempered Sarugaki Hiyori was the first to charge, her Hollow mask snapping into place as her Zanpakutō released. Her spiritual pressure surged to the level of a captain as she brought her blade down in a vengeful strike.

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