Bleach: Threads of Destiny

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When the crowd on the ground saw Aaron's battered and scorched appearance, they erupted into cheers.

But their jubilation was short-lived. When Genryūsai Shigekuni Yamamoto fell from the sky, their voices died out, replaced by stunned silence.

"How can this be?"

"Captain Yamamoto!!!"

"There's no way the Captain-Commander could lose to him! This is impossible!"

"It's over! The Soul Society is finished!"

"Don't panic! We still have so many captains and lieutenants!"

Even Aizen Sōsuke, standing in the crowd with his usual calm demeanor, felt a flicker of unease. The faint smile on his lips disappeared as he watched the seemingly victorious figure of Aaron, whose Reiatsu radiated ominously despite his injuries. For the first time, Aizen experienced something foreign to him—fear.

In the sky above, Shunsui Kyōraku and Jūshirō Ukitake exchanged a glance before darting toward Yamamoto's fallen form alongside Chōjirō Sasakibe, who was already cradling the Captain-Commander in his arms.

"Captain Unohana! Quickly, come tend to the Captain-Commander's injuries!" Chōjirō called out urgently.

Retsu Unohana, captain of the Fourth Division, appeared in a flash of Shunpo, her hands already glowing with the green aura of Kaidō. She knelt by Yamamoto and began healing him, her expression calm but her eyes reflecting concern.

Meanwhile, Ōetsu Nimaiya of the Royal Guard stood silently nearby, his expression grave. He watched Aaron warily, but before anyone could react, Nimaiya vanished in a blur, reappearing just a short distance from Aaron.

"Little guy, I didn't expect you to grow this strong," Nimaiya said, his tone carrying both surprise and respect.

Aaron chuckled softly but didn't respond. Instead, he slid his Zanpakutō back into its sheath, standing poised as he began absorbing ambient Reiatsu and Reishi to recover his strength. Despite his calm exterior, Aaron was painfully aware of his precarious state—his spiritual reserves were nearly depleted, and his body screamed in agony.

"After all these years, you've never truly opened your heart to us, have you?" Nimaiya continued, a wry smile on his face.

Aaron finally spoke, his tone measured. "If it weren't for the guidance of the Sword God, I wouldn't be where I am today. The help I've received over these past centuries has not gone unnoticed. But today..." His voice trailed off, his gaze unwavering.

"I won't raise my sword against you," Nimaiya interjected. "We've shared nearly a millennium of camaraderie, and my duty lies with protecting the Soul King, not meddling in the affairs of the Gotei 13 or the Central 46. But I feared you'd provoke Yamamoto and lose your life in the process."

Aaron gave a small, grateful smile but didn't respond. His focus shifted inward as he concentrated on accelerating his recovery. Green light enveloped his form as his injuries began healing at an astonishing rate. Flesh knitted back together, charred skin reformed, and his battered body regained vitality.

Nimaiya's eyes widened in astonishment as he witnessed the phenomenon. "What is this technique?" he murmured, incredulous.

Aaron endured excruciating pain as his body rebuilt itself. He had developed this unique healing method—"Devouring Seal Restoration"—over centuries of experimentation, combining his mastery of Kaidō with the devouring properties of his Zanpakutō. By layering seals infused with Reiatsu, he could absorb ambient energy to heal while expelling remnants of corrupted spiritual particles.

Though effective, the process was agonizing. Yet Aaron bore it silently, his determination unwavering.

As his injuries reached near-complete recovery, Aaron turned to Nimaiya and offered a nod of gratitude. "Thank you, Master Sword God. Until we meet again."

Before Nimaiya could respond, Aaron vanished in a flicker of Shunpo.

Meanwhile, in the Central 46 chambers, a massive surge of dark Reiatsu erupted. Black sword shadows rained down, obliterating the "sages" of the Central 46 in an instant. Blood mist filled the air, marking their demise.

Back at the battlefield, Yamamoto's eyes fluttered open. He sighed deeply, sensing the disappearance of the Central 46's Reiatsu.

"If only I hadn't suppressed two-thirds of my power..." Yamamoto muttered to himself, his voice heavy with regret. "I underestimated him."

From his vantage point in the air, Aaron gazed down at the awakened Yamamoto. With a faint smirk, he softly recited an incantation. The captains and lieutenants below, realizing his intent, rushed to stop him, but it was too late. Aaron disappeared into a black Senkaimon, leaving Soul Society behind.

As he raced through the shadowy corridors of the Dangai, Aaron's mind was already set on his next move. He would retreat to the World of the Living, where Kisuke Urahara and others had sought refuge. He knew that Aizen Sōsuke's research into the Hōgyoku was far from complete. A hundred years would pass quickly, and when the time came, Aaron would return stronger than ever.

Emerging from the other side of the Senkaimon, Aaron stopped abruptly, his breath caught in his throat. Before him was a sight that left him stunned.

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