A few days later, hm, Kisuke was basically minding his own business one day when bam, some Shinigami showed up. He thought he was getting deported again.
No, apparently he wasn't getting deported. The Vizard were here too. Apparently, their ban had been lifted—wait, what?
What kind of drastic thing had happened to Soul Society for this to occur? Was this perhaps one of Aizen's tricks? Oh well.
The Senkaimon opened and they entered. The journey was quite uneventful. Eventually, they reached the Seireitei.
Or rather... what used to be the Seireitei.
Shattered towers. Melted stone. The very sky above them looked bruised. It felt wrong—off—as if the entire realm were suffering from a spiritual concussion.
Behind him, the Vizard fanned out, their expressions ranging from stunned awe to barely-contained rage.
"The hell happened here?" Hiyori said, looking around. The place looked destroyed, as if a war had happened.
Urahara's brow furrowed. Wait—there was a war? And he was unaware of it? Where was Yoruichi? He couldn't feel her presence at all.
"Try a walking apocalypse," muttered Lisa, adjusting her glasses.
This place looked like shit, and in the middle of it all, a hole could be seen. A hole that had nothing in it, as if it was erased from existence.
Kisuke looked around. This place looked utterly destroyed. Ruined, even.
Too much destruction.
A familiar voice purred beside him. "You're not saying anything," said Yoruichi, still in her black cat form, leaping onto a toppled beam beside him.
Kisuke didn't say much, his eyes still scanning the destruction, his mind trying to come up with a plausible idea as to what caused this.
"Were you there during the attack?" the man asked. Yoruichi shook her head.
"No, I was with Kūkaku the whole time. It seemed like they had set barriers around the Seireitei during their attack. I didn't realize something was wrong until it was too late."
Kisuke's brow furrowed. Hm, so that meant the Seireitei was the only thing attacked—not the Rukongai.
They made their way toward Squad 12's shattered barracks.
Kisuke frowned. "Mayuri?"
"No idea," Yoruichi replied. "He's been shut in his lab since the attack. Apparently, the Nemuri Project flatlined—lost all data."
Kisuke sighed. "Ah... how tragic. My deepest condolences to the ten thousand backup clones he probably had."
The moment they entered the dim-lit ruins of the Research Division, they found Mayuri Kurotsuchi seated cross-legged in front of a half-melted console, stabbing at it like a furious raccoon.
"Urahara," Mayuri hissed, not even looking up. "Come to gloat?"
"Moi? Never," Kisuke smiled brightly. "I was hoping you missed me."
"Die."
Ah, some things never change.
Yoruichi's voice cut in. "We need the surveillance footage."
Mayuri grunted and jabbed at a button. The wall flickered, and a distorted video began playing.
The Vizards gathered, Shinji folding his arms while Hiyori practically vibrated beside him, fists clenched.
"Let's see this monster everyone's talking about," she growled.
The screen displayed a monk whom no one seemed to recognize, except for Kisuke. He knew this was Ichibe, the monk who could call names. Ichibe was facing off against what appeared to be a relatively unimpressive male Hollow. He was calm and confident as he erased the Hollow's name and reduced its power.
All seemed well—
Until it wasn't.
A pulse of power erupted from the Hollow's body.
Even through the screen, every person in the room froze.
Their skin crawled. Their instincts screamed.
Kisuke's heart rate spiked.
What... is that?
The Hollow didn't scream. Didn't roar.
It just laughed, like a drunk philosopher tasting irony for the first time.
"Ahhh~" The Hollow's voice rumbled through the monitor, but it felt like it echoed directly through their souls.
"The taste of a monk's arrogance. It's been too long."
Then he snapped his fingers.
On the screen—
Thousands of Shinigami exploded. No warning. No flair.
Just death.
A hail of gore, blood turned to mist, and souls shredded from existence.
The Hollow laughed again.
He gazed upward and spoke a name.
A true name.
One that made the monitor crack.
"Come out, Adyneus."
Kisuke's heart stopped.
What did he say?
"Don't tell me you're too afraid to fade away properly?"
Then came the Bala.
But not a normal one. This wasn't a spiritual attack.
It was an event.
Black as cosmic ink, swirling like anti-creation itself, it ripped through the Seireitei. A black sun that swallowed all light.
They watched in horror as the Seireitei vanished. Not blown apart. Not reduced.
Just... deleted.
When the footage ended, the room was silent.
Even Mayuri looked shaken, his pupils dilated behind golden lenses.
"...What in the twelve hells did the Soul Society release?" Lisa whispered.
Mashiro blinked. "Wait... Who's Adyneus?"
Love spoke low. "That's not a name you should say lightly. It feels cursed."
Kisuke didn't respond immediately.
His hat covered his eyes.
His fingers were trembling slightly. Not from fear—but from the enormity of what he now understood.
Ichibe was one-shotted. Not defeated—ignored.
This being didn't even try. He swatted the Monk of Names like an afterthought.
The name.
That name.
Adyneus... That wasn't just a name. It was his name. The Soul King.
His mind raced, billions of scenarios crunching through his thoughts like a sentient quantum calculator.
If the Hollow called for Adyneus... if he asked for a rematch...
Oh no.
He wasn't just a monster. He was the Soul King's opposite.
A True Demon. One that predates logic, morality, balance.
A being that had been sealed in Hell not because of cruelty... but because reality had no other option.
Suddenly, the Hōgyoku pulsed in his chest.
Kisuke staggered. Eyes wide.
Yup, this confirmed it...
Who the fuck caused this bullshit?
Wait if Ichibe was one shot.
Pulling out his zanpakuto.
"Scream Benehime"...…
Nothing.
A/N....Soul Society is in deep shit.