It was hard to describe how he felt in this moment.
As Aizen's right hand, Seiya was likely the one person who best understood what lay in Aizen's heart.
It had been too long.
So much preparation. So many schemes.
All of it, just to find the answer within himself. And now, Aizen stood at the very doorstep of that truth.
"Sensei… are you sure about this?"
Ichibē's hostility wasn't aimed at both of them—it was solely focused on Seiya.
In other words…
Aizen could have stood aside, uninvolved. If he chose to turn on Seiya now, he'd surely gain the Royal Guard's favor and might even be granted audience with the Soul King.
His lifelong goal was right in front of him.
All he had to do… was nod.
And all his efforts would be rewarded.
But there was no need for long-winded speeches between them. A simple glance was enough. As both master and friend, they already understood each other.
And Aizen's answer had always been clear.
"I always thought you were a bit too idealistic, Seiya… but I didn't expect it to be this extreme."
He stepped forward to stand beside Seiya.
"A man shouldn't change his stance just because it's convenient. Of course, by society's standards… I've never been one of the 'good ones.'"
His gaze stayed fixed on the Royal Guard before them.
"But even someone like me knows exactly what he wants."
He spoke with calm confidence, without a shred of doubt.
"The throne in the sky is far too lonely and cold."
And when there's no one to walk beside you…
The heart eventually withers, stiffens, and forgets what it means to feel.
The old dreams were behind him—what mattered now was what lay ahead.
"Trust in our strength, Seiya."
Aizen exposed his back to him without hesitation.
"Because of my Zanpakutō's nature, I'm not good at offense. So in this case… all I can do is support you."
"So I'll guard your back. You go all out."
What more needed to be said?
There was no second answer.
Seiya's eyes sharpened. He exhaled and lowered his right hand, gripping the Zanpakutō at his waist.
Spiritual pressure flared.
It coiled around him like storm clouds, laced with lightning threads writhing beneath the surface.
He stood, silent and still.
A tiger ready to pounce.
The Four Divine Generals of the Royal Guard took battle stances, ready for a clash.
And then—
"Let's do this, Royal Guard."
Aizen moved first.
He raised his left hand, drawing reishi from the air, molding it into torrents that surged toward the palace like crashing waves.
Here, in the Soul King's palace where reishi density was overwhelming, it was like home field advantage for him.
Still—
It wasn't enough.
Without even drawing their swords, the Four Divine Generals blocked the wave completely.
Kirio Hikifune, large and imposing, shattered the reishi tide with a scowl.
"Is that all you've got, pretty boy?"
He wasn't wrong. Aizen, lacking an offensive-type Zanpakutō, was limited in direct attack.
But—
He had other tools.
Kido, for instance—he'd mastered it to an extreme. Even casting Kurohitsugi without an incantation showed how deep his mastery went.
So why wasn't he using it?
Because now… he had something even better.
"What a shallow taunt, Hikifune."
Aizen smirked. He wasn't one to fall for provocation—but sometimes? Sometimes spice added flavor.
He accepted the challenge.
His right hand flipped, palm to the sky.
This was different from anything he had done before. But he had practiced it countless times.
And if anyone could adapt instantly—it was Aizen.
Blue light flowed in his eyes, a reflection of the Soul King's deep-space domain.
"Kido Eightfold Method – Foolish Blind Dragon."
!!!
Even Ichibē's eyes widened.
The swirling blue energy twisted, reshaped, becoming serpentine dragons of gray-black mist.
They coiled, rumbled… fused into a looming thundercloud.
Aizen stood atop it, calm as ever.
"What's wrong? Surprised already?"
"Or have you still not figured out how to deal with it?"
The dragons roared down.
The Divine Generals prepared to intercept—but Ichibē stepped forward first.
He raised his hand, lips near his fingers, channeling immense power.
Golden energy flared from his palm, forming the head of a majestic dragon.
"Inner Kido – Path Three – Iron Wind Slaughter!"
WHOOOOM!!!
A golden hurricane tore through the air, crashing into Aizen's dragons like divine judgment.
Power collided with power. The palace trembled.
Some wind burst through—cutting Aizen's chest.
Rip.
His clothes tore. Blood beaded and dripped.
A shallow wound—but proof of the gap in strength.
Still, Aizen smiled.
As he and Seiya had predicted… they had taken the bait.
"Heh… Inner Kido, huh."
He raised a brow, amused.
"As we thought. Ground-level Kido was always second-rate in your eyes, wasn't it?"
And yet…
Seiya had predicted all this.
Before arriving here, he'd reviewed every possible development.
The Royal Guard weren't just hidden muscle—they were creators, innovators.
And Seiya had come prepared.
"If I stuck to your rules and your methods, I'd be helpless."
Kido, at its core, was a rigid system—a framework of predefined spells.
But Seiya had taken another route.
One not bound by those rules.
The Eightfold Method of Kido—his own system.
Aizen, impressed, smiled faintly.
He hadn't thought of creating his own Kido system.
Yet Seiya not only did so—he'd even shared it with Aizen.
A rare moment of a student teaching the teacher.
"Ichibē, does this impress you?"
Aizen's tone was mocking.
Ichibē didn't answer.
But for a man who thrived on witty quips, silence was torture.
"Well done, you rebels."
He scowled—but it was praise in disguise.
Aizen healed his wound with a simple swipe.
Hikifune frowned—this wasn't normal.
Her eyes caught the glint embedded in his chest—
The Hōgyoku.
He had fused with it early—foregoing Arrancar creation to strengthen himself alone.
The others fell silent.
Originally, Aizen wasn't even a real threat. His Zanpakutō wasn't offensive, his powers more suited to deception.
Anyone in the Royal Guard could've handled him.
But now?
With the Eightfold Method and full integration with the Hōgyoku, Aizen was a second-line attacker unlike anything they'd prepared for.
Oetsu spoke softly:
"Can we handle this quickly?"
Ichibē frowned.
"Not without going all out."
That was… troubling.
Royal Guards weren't supposed to use full power except in dire emergencies.
This wasn't supposed to be that.
Their eyes all locked on Aizen—drawn in, mesmerized.
And in that moment—
Ichibē's expression darkened.
Wait.
Where was—?
He spun around.
Too late.
His focus had been stolen.
Seiya was gone.
In Aizen's shadow, with his illusions strengthened by his complete fusion with his Zanpakutō, he had distracted all of them.
Just as planned.
And now—Seiya had finished his preparation.
"I disagree, Sensei."
"You've done more than enough."
"Just by grabbing their attention—this already exceeded our expectations."
Aizen was the perfect decoy.
Now it was Seiya's turn.
He tightened his grip on his Zanpakutō.
Time to give everything.
With a low breath, Seiya raised his blade.
"Bankai – Eight Aspects of the Heavenly Dragon: Asura."
Author's Note:
Saw some readers worried Seiya might backstab Aizen… man, don't worry.
Y'all have read over 900,000 words at this point. You know what kind of person Seiya is.
If he respects even Yamamoto that much, you think he'd betray his teacher?
Nah. That's not who he is.
I won't mess with core character values. So don't worry about it.
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Powerstones?
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