"Is that all?"
"If that's the only way, then today, you have only two options: to surrender without resistance… or to be killed."
With the aid of Shunpo, Gosuke Shigure appeared instantly at the side of Tsunayashiro Tokinada, who had just been hurled away by the pressure of his sword.
Though he spoke of two options, the reality was clear—Tokinada had already lost.
Still reeling, Tokinada twisted mid-air, attempting to stabilize his momentum. His voice came out cold and hoarse:
"This may not be—!"
In a desperate motion, he swung his blade once more.
A blood-red mist erupted from the blade's edge.
But this wasn't his own Zanpakutō. Tokinada couldn't fully control it—no Bankai, and every swing demanded a steep price.
Each strike devoured a fragment of his soul, along with a portion of his Reiryoku. The weapon only lent him its strength if it was fed properly… and mercilessly.
If he relied on it for long, it would surely kill him.
But Tokinada didn't care.
He believed that dying by his own hand was a dignity far greater than letting the common rabble decide his fate.
So when the Tsunayashiro clan conspired to sacrifice him, he made his choice—he would destroy the clan himself.
Out of the crimson mist emerged distorted figures—neither fully real nor illusion. Dozens of specters charged at Gosuke Shigure in unison.
Shigure had seen these phantasmal wraiths once before—back when he saved Yoruichi.
Now, face to face with them again, he momentarily paused.
There was a flicker of nostalgia.
The closer he drew to Tokinada, the more clearly he could see the sword in his opponent's grasp.
There was no mistaking it.
That blade once belonged to him.
His Zanpakutō—from his previous life.
Somehow, after his death, it hadn't faded into oblivion. It had endured.
Now, Tokinada had found a way to wield it.
"Unbelievable…" Gosuke Shigure thought, stunned.
He recalled another Zanpakutō—the ancestral blade of the Tsunayashiro clan—passed down across generations. If the clan could preserve that legacy, it wasn't far-fetched they had used the same method to preserve his Zanpakutō.
But he didn't dwell on it for long.
As the original wielder of that weapon, Gosuke understood its abilities better than anyone.
He didn't know how much of its power Tokinada had managed to awaken, but it was clearly enough to be a threat.
He wouldn't hold back.
"Rend the Heavens—Raijin no Saika!"
(雷神の裁火 – Thunder God's Judgement Flame)
For the first time in decades, Gosuke Shigure released his Zanpakutō.
Watching from a distance, Yoruichi couldn't hide her surprise.
In all the years she had known her teacher, she had never seen him release his sword. Not even during high-stakes combat.
He always fought in its sealed state, relying solely on raw sword pressure and unmatched mastery of Hakuda and Zanjutsu.
Yet now, he was unleashing it.
Curious and silent, she watched the power unfold.
Brilliant azure lightning surged across Shigure's body. His blade crackled with arcs of raw energy. When he swung it, bolts of electricity tore through the air with explosive speed.
The twisted specters generated by Tokinada's mist were instantly incinerated.
In a blur, Gosuke vanished.
Faster than even Shunpo, the speed granted by his lightning ability propelled him forward like a thunderclap.
In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Tokinada.
Tokinada's face twisted in shock—Shigure had closed the distance before he could react.
Panicking, he tried to swing the cursed blade once more.
But then—
Agony.
He looked up to see an arm—his own—flying through the air, still clutching the Zanpakutō.
He froze.
Only now did he realize what had happened.
Gosuke Shigure had severed his arm cleanly.
And he hadn't even seen the strike coming.
The moment the limb was gone, the blade clattered to the ground. Waves of pain ripped through Tokinada's body.
His expression twisted in rage and disbelief, but even now—he refused to yield.
This could not be his end.
He had just begun dreaming of becoming the king of Hueco Mundo.
Using Shunpo, he darted away and widened the distance, narrowly avoiding Gosuke's pursuit.
Fortunately for him, Shigure did not give chase.
Not because he couldn't—but because something else now demanded his attention.
He walked calmly to where the arm had fallen, picked up the severed limb—then tossed it aside—and took hold of the Zanpakutō it had clutched.
Now, in one hand, he held Raijin no Saika, his current blade.
In the other—the Zanpakutō of his former life.
As his Reiatsu flowed into the second sword, its dormant power stirred.
It responded.
Even now, the blade tried to draw in his soul power, attempting to consume him as it had Tokinada.
And now, he understood.
This was why Tokinada had seemed so weak, so unlike the man who had wiped out his own clan.
Every time Tokinada wielded this blade, his soul was drained further—his very essence carved away.
Though its power was considerable, each use had left him weaker.
If you failed to end your opponent swiftly with it… you sealed your own fate.
"Don't you even remember me?"
Gosuke Shigure's voice rang not in the air, but directly into the blade.
His soul called to it.
And in that moment, the blade—once called Shikai no Yami, "The Dead One"—shuddered.
A flicker of awareness stirred within it.
It heard something faint but familiar in that voice.
"Master…?"