"Chojiro Sasakibe! And… Araki!"

"I haven't seen you in a thousand years... Are you still alive?"

"I carry hatred for you! I have been dormant all this time, waiting!"

"I will never forget what you both did to me! This time, I will use you two as sacrifices!"

In a world of darkness, Yhwach sat upon a throne made of condensed spirit energy, his face aged, fierce, and lined with rage, his thick beard swaying with spiritual pressure. He looked down upon Araki and Sasakibe from above, his words dripping with thousand-year-old resentment for the two ancient warriors.

Then—

Araki woke up.

"Tsk~"

Slowly opening his eyes, Araki pulled the towel from his face. What met his gaze was an unfamiliar ceiling, shrouded in mist.

"Ah… A thousand-year nightmare, huh?"

Tilting his neck, he muttered as he took in his surroundings. The air was warm. Wet. A hot spring.

"It's bad enough to dream about a man," he grumbled, "but to dream of a man with a grudge who also… wants my body? What kind of cursed dream is that?"

"Araki, you're awake!"

A voice rough and weathered called out to him.

"Huh?!"

Araki looked up—and froze.

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, partially bald and radiating overwhelming reiatsu even in relaxation, sat naked under a steaming waterfall, legs crossed in meditation. One eye cracked open to stare at Araki.

"So… I haven't woken up yet, huh?" Araki deadpanned, glancing away.

"Captain Araki," a voice even more lifeless called to him. "You'd better accept reality. Like it or not, you're awake."

Floating lazily in the spring, pale as a corpse, was a man with a strand of dogtail grass in his mouth.

"You're... Shijima Chigiri, Captain of Squad Three?"

"Oh my. What an honor it is to be recognized by the famous Captain Araki," Shijima droned, tone utterly devoid of enthusiasm.

"Araki, you're incredible!" came a new voice—louder, livelier.

Obana Danjiro, the brawny and spirited captain, clapped his hands together. "To think you pushed the Quincy's 'King'—'Hahabach' or whatever—into that state! You might be the strongest in the Seireitei under Lord Genryūsai!"

"Why not spar with me sometime?"

"Haha! Count me in too!" said Zenjoji Arihime, the eccentric captain of Squad Twelve, strolling over with a wide grin.

"Idiot!" barked another. Taketsuna, the sharp-eyed captain of Squad Seven, stomped over. "I was the one who suggested sparring with Araki in the first place! If anyone gets to test their strength against him, it's me!"

"Oh? So you said that..." Araki noted inwardly, etching Taketsuna's name into his mental blacklist. He'll pay for that later.

"Haha! Me too, me too!" boomed Tetsu Kumen Kamoi of Squad Nine, voice echoing through the steamy air.

Within moments, the hot spring was in chaos—first generation captains crowding around Araki, each stranger and weirder than the last.

"I want to fight Araki too!"

"Hey! Back off!"

"No way—Araki's sparring with me first!"

Araki sighed heavily, slapping the towel back over his face and leaning back on the edge of the pool.

These people are insane. Do they seriously think I'm going to fight every single one of them? This place is hell. I'd rather sneak into the women's bath.

Meanwhile...

Just across a thin dividing wall, in the women's bath, peace reigned.

Soaking quietly were Kadori Takeunsai, captain of Squad Eight, Unohana Retsu, the former blood-soaked beast of Squad Eleven, and Saito Furobushi, captain of Squad Six.

Though the bath was the same size as the men's, the tranquility made it feel much larger. Even the usually rowdy Saito sat in unusual silence, half-submerged.

The reason?

"So big..."

Saito's pupils shook as she stared, eyes locked on the curves of Kadori Takeunsai. The bath towel barely concealed her ample chest.

"She's so thin everywhere else! How is that even nutritionally possible?!"

Envy burned behind Saito's squinting eyes. She bared her teeth inwardly. If she could, she would have bitten off the unfair assets of this "unholy rival" on the spot.

"Ahhh... This is perfect~" murmured Unohana, reclining beside her. She stretched in the water, exposing smooth skin and graceful lines glowing in the light.

Saito trembled again.

"No way... Hers too?! Why are they all so huge?!"

Saito curled up, floating sadly in the corner, blowing bubbles in the spring like a sulking child.

"Hmm?" Unohana turned to her. "Saito… aren't you tired? You're all curled up like that."

"...Mind your own bath, dammit," Saito growled back, her pride eroded like soap bubbles in boiling water.

Saito shrank further when he heard it.

"Hehe~"

Unohana Retsu chuckled softly, never having taken Saito seriously to begin with. From the start, the two were not on the same level. Compared to the 'harmless' Saito, Unohana Retsu considered Kadori the far greater threat…

"It seems I'll be returning to that little yellow book~"

As for Kadori, she was currently drifting through the sky, hoping to return to the team leader's room as soon as possible to resume her studies in 'literature'. She had no other remarkable strengths—but her love for learning was unmatched.

Dozens of minutes later…

"Ah…"

Araki, now fully refreshed, removed the towel from his forehead and stood up from the hot spring.

"Where are you headed, Araki?"

Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, who had been meditating beneath the waterfall, suddenly opened his eyes. He looked at Araki's back and asked calmly.

"Ah…" Araki yawned, then replied without turning around, "Where else? Back to the Eleventh Division dorms. There are still a bunch of meatheads waiting for me to patch them up."

"Is that so…?"

"Let's leave it at that for now. However… there's something important I must inform you."

Just as Araki was about to leave, Yamamoto's words made him pause.

"Huh?"

Araki turned, his gaze questioning.

"Someone from above will be arriving soon. You and I are to meet them together."

Yamamoto's tone was absolute—an order, not a request.

"No."

Araki refused without hesitation. The only people Yamamoto Genryūsai could refer to as 'above'… were the Royal Guards—Squad Zero.

And Araki had always kept a respectful distance from Squad Zero. Whether it was the Sword God Nimaiya Ōetsu, or the Monk Who Calls the Real Name, Ichibei Hyōsube—they were not people to get involved with lightly.

He had no desire to meddle in the affairs surrounding the Soul King.

Araki had his own creed: stay far away from those hiding secrets too big to bear. He already knew more than he cared to.

"Araki, this time is different," Yamamoto said gravely. "It's said the Soul King himself requested your presence."

"…Huh? The Soul King wants to summon me?"

Araki froze.

The Soul King—supposedly cut into pieces by the ancestors of the Five Great Noble Clans—wanted to see him? Was this a joke? Was it that big-eyed monk playing tricks again under the guise of the Soul King?

"We'll talk later."

Araki's eyes were filled with hesitation, but he left the restorative hot spring nonetheless.

"Thank you for your patronage~ Please visit again!"

The owner of the restoration spring—sporting a flashy crew cut and looking like a biker from the '70s—grinned and waved at Araki.

"Yeah, yeah~"

Araki waved lazily but thought silently:

So this guy hasn't joined Squad Zero yet? Makes sense—the effect of this hot spring doesn't come close to that "revival" pool from the original Blood War arc. If that's the case, then only the 'Sword God' and 'Real Name Monk' are in Squad Zero so far. I wonder if Shutara Senjumaru, the one who created "Death Hegemony," has joined yet...

Ugh, what a pain...

With that thought, Araki vanished.

Days later…

"Alright! Your leg's fully healed!"

As Araki's ROOM technique gradually contracted, the last injured soldier stood, his wounds miraculously gone.

"It's completely healed! It's like I was never injured!"

The soldier leapt for joy—only to fall flat on his face, laughing. Joy overflowed from him. Only those who have lost something truly understand how precious it is to have it again.

"No matter how bad the injuries... no matter how broken the body... you can even piece together what was lost. What a terrifyingly miraculous power."

Just as Araki finished treating the last soldier and was about to take a break, a coarse voice called out from behind him.

"Huh?!"

Araki instinctively drew his Zanpakutō and slashed behind him in one smooth motion.

"Whoa, whoa! Easy there! I'm not your enemy!"

The man retreated quickly, raising both hands in surrender. He smiled awkwardly.

"Tsk~"

Now able to see him clearly, Araki recognized the man immediately. Bald and radiant, eyes full of mischief and wisdom, with a beard like a coiled brush—he was unmistakable.

"Who are you?"

Araki, feigning ignorance, asked coolly.

"My name's Ichibei Hyōsube! Member of Squad Zero."

The man, adorned with glowing red Buddhist beads, looked every bit the 'Big Monk' he was rumored to be.

"Ah~ So a big shot from Squad Zero has come to see me. I wonder what the great Ichibei Hyōsube wants with little ol' me?"

Araki continued his act. After all, playing dumb was a skill he had perfected during his long years in Soul Society.

"It's not me who wants to see you," Ichibei said, folding his arms and smiling wider. "It's the Soul King."

"The Soul King wants to see me? Why would someone like me be summoned by someone like him?"

Araki acted shocked, as if the very idea were absurd.

"Well…" Ichibei leaned forward slightly, his grin sharpening. "To be honest, I'm curious too."

He suddenly narrowed his eyes.

"Can your ability… put the Soul King back together again?"

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