"You are so unguarded!"

Just when these Quincies were on the verge of despair...

A cold and serious voice slowly rang out from behind them.

Before anyone could react, in a flash, a short dagger had already pierced through their throats.

"Since the Quincies have abandoned the human world and dared to appear in the Soul Society where they never belonged... what awaits them is not merely despair—but endless torture."

This was the belief of Yan, the captain of the Third Division. Acting on that belief, he struck. Without a sound, he appeared behind the Quincies and, with a single wave of his blade, slit the throats of several.

But Yan did not retreat after his swift execution. Instead, he remained—watching each Quincy die up close. Their neck arteries pierced by the deadly blade, blood spurting, life draining away slowly... and Yan merely pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling faintly.

"...This is fun."

His methods were cold. Brutal. Without mercy.

"BASTARD! What the hell are you doing?!"

Naturally, his gruesome actions caught the attention of nearby Quincies. Several roared in rage, unsheathing the weapons at their sides and surrounding Yan .

"Where are you looking?"

Before they could make a move—before their blades even fully left their sheaths—a deep, hoarse voice thundered across the field. A massive shadow suddenly enveloped them.

Thud...

A bone-chilling sense of oppression descended. Behind them stood a man like a brown bear, radiating killing intent.

"Crush them. Crush them all."

Before the Quincies could even turn, the man spread his arms wide—and brought them down like hammers.

Pah!

A sickening, muffled crack rang out. Three Quincies had their heads flattened instantly under his massive palms. No weapons. No spells. Just raw, monstrous force.

"Zenjoji Ariba!" Yan said with a nod, recognizing the man.

"I was headed for the South Gate (Zhuwa), but Kenpachi Araki got there first."

This monster of a man—who enjoyed crushing skulls and painting red U-shaped graffiti on his face with enemy blood—was Zenjoji Ariba, Captain of the 12th Division.

"What a coincidence," Ariba replied. "I was drawn to the West Gate (White Road)... but Saito already went."

Adjusting his glasses again, Yan asked, "What about the others?"

"They went to the Black Prism Gate. We're the only ones here."

"...Perfect. Time to clean up our battlefield."

With a playful flip of his short blade, Yan vanished once more.

"Haha! GOOD!"

Zenjoji Ariba bellowed with laughter, swinging his enormous hands—grabbing, crushing, and smashing Quincy skulls like melons.

In moments, the battlefield became a grotesque performance of pure carnage led by a team of captains.

Saito Furobushi, Shihoin Chihiro, Kakuno Bakunsai, Yan , and Zenjoji Ariba—

Five original captains of the Gotei 13.

In front of the Blue Stream Gate, they danced their bloody steps in a river of blood.

The power of the original Gotei 13 was chilling—an unstoppable force that inspired nothing but despair.

It wasn't because their spiritual pressure was overwhelmingly superior to later generations...

It was because they didn't hesitate.

They didn't speak.

They didn't offer mercy.

Every move was a kill.

This was no battle.

It was a one-sided massacre.

Begging? Useless.

Surrendering? Pointless.

The First Generation of the Gotei 13 did not accept submission—only annihilation.

Soon, under the leadership of these five monstrous captains, the East Gate of the Soul Society fell completely silent.

As everyone paused, the massive Aoki Gate had already become unbearable to look at—ruins, blood, and mangled flesh intertwined so densely that it was hard to distinguish rubble from torn bodies.

"March to the center..."

The captains of the Gotei 13 stepped over the corpses of the fallen Quincies without flinching. With blood-soaked Zanpakutō in hand, they advanced toward the central command point, where Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto, the Captain-Commander, had summoned them.

At that moment, just as the battles at the gates concluded, a spiritual message echoed within each of their minds:

"This is Obana Danjiro, Captain of the 5th Division. The conflict at our gate has been resolved. With the invaders at all four gates subdued, all captains are to converge at Captain-Commander Yamamoto's location."

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Yan addressed the other captains with composure.

"Let's not fall behind this time."

Saitō Furuobushi, standing atop a fallen Quincy, pointed her Zanpakutō into the distance.

Her eyes glinted with ambition—she wasn't here for small fry. Her targets were the Sternritter commanders. She, Saitō Furuobushi, still longed to make a name for herself in this war.

There was no way she would let all the glory go to old man Yamamoto or that rising star Araki!

As for the possibility of defeat? That thought never crossed her mind—or any of the Gotei 13 captains. There were no equals before them. Only prey.

At Kurone Gate—One of Soul Society's Four Great Gates

"Message sent," said Obana Danjiro, the 5th Division captain, wiping away residual ink on his hand. Using Tenran Kura for mass communication wasn't as simple as it looked.

Behind him stood Captain Taketsuna (7th Division), Captain Hisamen Iyotetsu (9th), Captain Nigushi Saizō (13th), and Captain Shijima Chigiri (4th).

Before them lay a sea of corpses nearly matching the carnage at Seiryū Gate.

Amidst the dead, a lone Quincy remained—barely alive.

"My majesty will avenge me! Curse you all! You murderers! Demons! May you rot in hell! DIIIIIIE—!"

The Quincy's body had been twisted grotesquely—limbs knotted, chest slit open with a crude medical tube jabbed into his torso. He was helpless to act, so he raged with the only weapon left: his voice.

"Ugh... what a pain," muttered Captain Shijima Chigiri, annoyed by the curses. With a swift flash step, he appeared above the Quincy and slashed downward.

"Dii—"

Blood splattered. The curses ended.

"Tch. You ruined my experiment," remarked Nigushi Saizō, smiling faintly as he addressed Chigiri.

"So what? What will you do about it?"

Shijima's hollowed eyes, ringed with fatigue, met Nigushi's. An unsettling silence followed—two dangerous men, each harboring twisted tendencies.

"Hehe..."

Saizō's smile widened, his shadowed gaze flickering ominously.

But before tension escalated, Obana Danjiro interrupted:

"Enough! Master Yamamoto is waiting. If not for your little games, we'd already be there."

The moment Yamamoto's name was spoken, all the captains fell into silence.

"..."

Finally, Obana sighed in relief.

And so, the captains of the Gotei 13—united in command yet fragmented in spirit—proceeded toward Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto.

Behind them, only corpses and crimson rivers remained.

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