Truthfully, Yahn's words earlier had been more for Robin's sake than his own. He wanted to give the girl, who so desperately sought to prevent another tragedy, something to cling to—a faint hope.
And by chance, his birthday was near—the one day each year when he could awaken a new Zanpakutō.
But whether this miracle would occur at such a crucial moment? Yahn didn't dare hold expectations.
Zanpakutō abilities were varied and strange beyond measure. Yet the odds of awakening one with powers akin to Robin's Brujería, capable of controlling enemies… it was no different from buying a lottery ticket.
Time trickled by. Below, the space for Flevance's people shrank further with each passing moment. Robin clutched Yahn's small hand tighter and tighter, as if her grip could summon forth a miracle.
Ding… dong… ding… dong…
At midnight, the central clock tower of the White City slowly turned and chimed twelve times, its ancient toll ringing across the city. A new day had begun.
But for Flevance, this was not a day of life. It was the end—the day of annihilation.
At that very moment, within the clasp of Robin's hand, a new Zanpakutō slowly took form.
Yahn's eyes fell upon it, and disappointment flickered across his face.
The blade looked utterly ordinary. Plain, unremarkable—without the slightest hint of uniqueness.
Blades like this, he usually tested briefly before breaking them down into spirit energy.
So then… what is your name?
He raised the Zanpakutō slightly and asked within.
A calm, unhurried voice resonated through his inner world.
"My name is—"
Yahn froze. His pupils shrank sharply.
Robin, noticing his change in expression, asked anxiously:
"Brother Yahn… what is it?"
"Ah…"
He exhaled softly, then ruffled her hair with uncharacteristic force, a rare smile tugging at his lips.
"Robin, you really are amazing. It seems your heart truly reached the heavens."
"Then… then Brother Yahn, you really can save the people of Flevance?" Robin's eyes widened, her voice quivering between hope and disbelief.
Yahn lifted the plain-looking blade, the faintest grin curving his lips.
"Yes. With this unremarkable sword, the future you prayed for… can be made real."
"Really?" The sorrowful girl's eyes rounded, for once showing a touch of girlish innocence.
"Yes."
He nodded firmly, then opened the den-den mushi to contact his comrades.
"Change of plans. Halt the retreat, comrades…"
---
With guidance from both the Revolutionaries and Robin's Brujería, the panic-stricken citizens of Flevance surged like a tide toward the great northern plaza.
It was the very place where the nation had once held its annual festivals, vast enough to hold nearly all its people. Now, shoulder to shoulder, they pressed inward, desperate for safety.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire rang sporadically around the city, the devil's whisper carried on the night air.
Some shots in the north were deliberately fired by Revolutionaries, herding the citizens toward the plaza.
Encircled by the ominous crack of rifles, the people—already weakened by Amber Lead Disease—felt utterly trapped. Fear drove them, until they pressed tighter and tighter into the plaza's heart.
As the shots drew closer, the vast crowd fell into silence. Many held their breath, not daring to make a sound.
God, please… let those devils pass us by…
A nun from Flevance, her forehead streaked white with lead, traced a trembling cross upon her chest and prayed.
But God would show no mercy.
"They're here! The demons of Flevance are here!!!"
A soldier's shout shattered the stillness. Despair rippled through the crowd as countless eyes widened in horror.
The soldiers at the plaza's edge raised their rifles, aiming at the so-called "plague-bearers."
Yet… the triggers would not pull.
Under the moon's pale glow, the soldiers saw not monsters but men and women, their faces marked with spots of white, their eyes filled with raw despair.
The first soldier trembled, gripped by an unfamiliar hesitation. His gun felt unbearably heavy in his hands.
And he was not alone. The others who arrived from all sides faltered in the same way, their orders at war with the fragile humanity in their hearts.
That fragile stalemate shattered when the officers arrived.
"What are you doing?! Fire! Kill these disease-ridden devils at once!"
At the barked command, the soldiers once again leveled their rifles.
Hope that had begun to flicker in the hearts of the citizens guttered out. Staring into the black muzzles of countless guns, despair consumed them whole.
"Is it over? Flevance…"
"What a cruel world…"
"I… I don't want to die yet… Someone… please, save us…"
"Mom, I'm scared…"
The voices of sorrow and terror merged into one.
And then—
"…Leave the rest to me."
A calm voice rang from above. Instinctively, every head turned skyward.
There, bathed in moonlight, one figure walked upon the air.
Yahn.
Meeting the gaze of all below, he drew his sword slowly, the moonlight glinting across its plain edge. His voice was a quiet chant, resolute yet gentle.
"Upon this land condemned as evil…
Shatter—Kyōka Suigetsu."
Nothing seemed to happen. And yet, everything had changed.
The moonlight still shone upon the earth. But the world would no longer be the same.