The room was silent, save for the faint sound of air flowing.
Yamamoto slowly opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as a hawk's, piercing through everything before him. Despite having gone three days without rest, his expression showed no sign of fatigue or weariness.
At this moment, the time had reached 6:30 AM—the moment Yamamoto had been waiting for.
Three days ago, Retsu Unohana, Captain of the 4th Division, and Kisuke Urahara, Captain of the 12th Division, had entered the underground prison beneath the Shin'ō Academy. They had solemnly promised the old man that they would return with an answer within three days.
And now, the time had come.
"Reporting to Captain-Commander! Captain Unohana and Captain Urahara have arrived!"
A calm and respectful voice called from outside the paper doors.
"...Let them in," Yamamoto murmured, his voice resonating from deep within his chest.
A moment later, the same respectful acknowledgment came from beyond the door.
Yamamoto remained seated, his hands steady as he lifted his teacup and took a slow sip. The hot liquid coursed down his throat, spreading warmth through his body and sharpening his senses. The rich aroma of the tea filled the air, lingering at the tip of his nose, bringing a moment of clarity.
Closing his eyes briefly, he dispelled the cluttered thoughts in his mind. As the tea's fragrance settled, his thoughts grew sharper, his mind fully alert.
Letting the heat soothe his throat, Yamamoto cleared it slightly before speaking.
"How is it?"
"In the underground prison of Shin'ō, over seventy percent of the inmates have been confirmed dead."
Kisuke Urahara, usually so carefree, wore an uncharacteristically serious expression. Even through the strands of his disheveled hair, the exhaustion on his face was evident.
Lazy as he might be, Urahara knew when to take things seriously.
Yamamoto remained silent, signaling for them to continue.
Urahara let out a long sigh.
"To be honest, there's not much to say. The situation with those prisoners is exactly as you expected."
"Their bodies showed no significant external injuries, yet... their vital functions had ceased."
Yamamoto frowned at Urahara's words.
"Then why did they die?"
"That's what's strange. Captain Unohana attempted to determine the cause of death using Kaidō, but even she couldn't find anything conclusive."
"So I took the liberty of using the 12th Division's equipment to examine the bodies."
Urahara glanced at Yamamoto cautiously, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Acting without approval went against the protocols of the Gotei 13.
However, Yamamoto said nothing, only offering a slight nod, signaling for him to continue.
His expression made it clear—now was not the time to dwell on such trivial matters.
Relieved, Urahara continued.
"After a detailed examination, we found that they had no souls—or rather, their souls had vanished."
"What do you mean by 'no souls'?" Yamamoto's frown deepened.
A soul is the foundation of a spiritual body, the very core of life itself, bound to its vessel.
Generally, when a captain-level individual dies, their spiritual body does not simply dissipate. Their soul remains attached to their body, even if that body is broken into pieces. The residual Reishi would not merge into the cycle of the Three Worlds but would instead await the Konsō ritual, where both the body and the fragmented spirit particles would be sent to Hell.
Yet now, those prisoners' bodies lay perfectly intact within the 1st Division barracks, and their souls had disappeared without a trace.
This was beyond strange.
It completely defied everything Yamamoto had known for thousands of years.
"According to my speculation, along with Captain Unohana's, these spirits may have had their souls stolen while they were still alive—or perhaps their souls were outright erased."
Kisuke Urahara spoke with rare seriousness.
"And without a soul, a spirit naturally dies."
The old man across from him had clearly never encountered such a phenomenon before.
But Urahara had—not only had he seen it, but he had also done something similar himself.
After all, not everyone had the experience of creating a Hōgyoku.
Though the materials he used back then were Hollow souls, the principle was largely the same.
When collecting experimental subjects, he had to extract the Hollow's soul first—only then did the Hollow truly die.
The difference was that those Hollows were too weak. When they died, they left no physical remains, unlike these prisoners.
Thinking back, Urahara couldn't help but recall the mysterious intruder who had once broken into the Shinigami Research and Development Institute.
That person had rummaged through his lab.
Though they ultimately left empty-handed, their goal may very well have been the Hōgyoku.
Fortunately, the Hōgyoku was now in Masatsuki Aozaki's hands.
There was no safer place in the world.
Masatsuki's strength was undeniable, and Urahara had complete confidence in him.
Yamamoto furrowed his brows, lost in thought.
But his thoughts were completely different from Urahara's.
Kill a soul?
Neither Shinigami nor Hollows had the ability to do that.
A Shinigami could purify souls, while a Hollow could only consume or assimilate them.
At their core, both were simply part of the natural cycle of the Three Worlds.
Neither could truly erase a soul from existence.
As far as Yamamoto knew, only one race possessed that ability.
The Quincy.
For the past few centuries, Yhwach had been defeated—so why had he continued his war against the Quincy in the World of the Living?
It wasn't just about settling the war from a thousand years ago.
More importantly, the Quincy's ability to erase souls threatened the balance of the Three Worlds.
Hollows slain by Quincy did not re-enter the cycle—they were completely erased from existence.
But as far as Yamamoto knew, the Quincy only had that effect on Hollows.
Killing a Shinigami should not result in total soul erasure.
Had some Quincy survived all this time?
Had they developed a new technique capable of erasing a Shinigami's soul?
A heavy sense of unease settled over Yamamoto.
The Quincy in the World of the Living were all human, and a human body could not enter the Soul Society.
His thoughts drifted to the Quincy whom Yhwach had turned into spirits a thousand years ago.
Yamamoto cleared his throat and asked,
"What about Kenpachi Azashiro? What's his condition?"
"His vital signs are stable," Retsu Unohana replied, "but he seems to be in a state similar to a coma."
Urahara nodded in agreement.
"We haven't found a solution yet. I'm afraid there's not much we can do for him."
Hearing this, Yamamoto let out a heavy sigh.
"Very well, leave him be for now. We have more pressing matters to handle—matters that could determine the fate of the Soul Society."
If those Quincy were truly still alive—if they had the power to slaughter so many prisoners...
They posed a dire threat to the Gotei 13.
Just then—
A voice called from outside.
"Reporting, Captain-Commander-sama!"
"What is it?" Yamamoto asked.
"Two individuals have requested an audience with you…"
Before the guard could finish, his words suddenly cut off.
"Hm?"
Yamamoto frowned. Something was off.
Before anyone could react, a bright, carefree laugh echoed from outside.
The sound filled the room, drawing everyone's attention.
Moments later, the door slid open, and a woman stepped inside.
The sight of her left everyone momentarily stunned.
Yamamoto's pupils contracted sharply.
"You… Why are you here…?"