Smoke slowly billowed up in a large ashen cloud that hovered low over the charred and cratered landscape. Enormous towers and fortress-like buildings sat in collapsed heaps throughout, the ruins tumbling along broken roads and shattered walls. All the land was covered in a pale ash-like dust that swirled slowly over the crushed city, and an evil stench, like sulfur mixed with rotting souls, filled the air. If there were any souls left to breathe the toxic air, no doubt they would have been killed in seconds. However, sadly, not a soul could be found within the ruined remains of what had once been the Seireitei.

Well, perhaps not anyone.

Deep within the towering pile of rubble that had once been Sōkyoku Hill, down a secret passage, was an enormous cavern, perhaps anywhere from fifty to five-hundred meters wide. For years, this secret cavern had been a base of training for young Shinigami, used oft by the ex-captains Yoruichi Shihōin and Kisuke Uruhara, and their multiple peers and students. However, now its rugged, rocky terrain served as a bunker for the few remaining survivors of the war that had just gone on.

Kisuke himself had been one of the few lucky ones. The usually perverted, blonde-haired shopkeeper, rarely seen without a fan obscuring his face from the outside world, was staring blankly over the group of ragged and worn-down souls before him. He looked down at his geta-clad feet, a grimace quickly growing on his face.

It had happened in a blink of an eye, a surprise to everyone in the Realm of the Shinigami, and especially so for their enemies, the Sternritters. One minute the two groups were at each other's throats, ready to end the others lives. Ichigo himself was close to winning the battle against Juha Bach, Uryuu switching sides last minute to give him an extra hand in tackling the powerful foe. The next minute, though, an explosion cut through the battles, making all freeze. The area where the Maggot's Nest lay was up in smoke, and one single figure stepped clear of the ash. A man no one had expected to come back, nor with such weighty power. Sōsuke Aizen, Bane of the Realms.

Kisuke's grimace grew deeper, and he gripped the handle of his concealed Benehime tightly, trying to stifle his anger. In a way, he felt as though it was his fault for the carnage Aizen had caused now. He should have known the man had planned for his powers being taken away, and was planning a surprise attack midst the chaos of the 1,000-year Blood War. Aizen would not simply sit back when the opportunity to take control again. He must have been planning it out for so long—and Kisuke had been too blind to see it.

"Don't beat yourself up, Kisuke," his old friend Yoruichi said, walking up to his side and giving him a soft, comforting smile. "No one could have guessed that Aizen was planning on returning. Or that he would have obtained his transcendent abilities again." Kisuke frowned darkly and looked back at his dark-skinned friend.

"No, no one could have guessed it, Yoruichi," he said, turning back to the others, "but someone should have at least pondered over the thought that perhaps the chance would show itself that he could and would return. Yet, because no one did, we are now paying for it." He sighed, staring over at the wounded souls laying or staggering throughout the caverns. "And the worst part is that the young are the ones paying for our mistakes."

Yoruichi nodded sadly, following his gaze. There were only ten other members of their group, out of the hundreds of Shinigami and Quincies, who had survived. Ichigo Kurosaki and Renji Abarai sat on a large rock, moodily staring off into the distance. They had a right to be drowning in the gloom. Ichigo's friend, Renji's girlfriend, Rukia Kuchiki, had been one of the first killed by Aizen's merciless hand. Beyond them, Yasutora 'Chad' Sado was stretched out on a mat as Hanatoro Yamada cared to him, bandaging the man's right arm with his own bandaged hands. Chad's left arm was completely gone, torn off by a wayward Getsuga Tenshō Ichigo had fired, the giant man barely blocking it from hitting Orihime Inoue.

Said girl was just beyond them, kneeling beside Uryuu's side as she tediously worked on his battered and broken, yet still living, body. Former 10th Captain Tōshirō Hitsugaya sat between Ikkaku Madarame and Shūhei Hisagi, all three men losing friends that were near and dear to them. Tōshirō had lost his lieutenant, Rangiku Matsumoto, and his childhood friend, Momo Hinamori, while Ikkaku had lost his old friend Yumichika Ayasegawa, and Shūhei had lost his idol and master, Kensei Muguruma. The last person in their group, curled in a ball at the edge of a small rocky cliff, gripping a straw cap with all her strength, was Nanao Ise. Tears streamed down her face, and all of the other survivors could tell the broken girl wanted some time alone with her sufferings.

"They don't deserve this," Kisuke said, turning away from the sorry crowd behind him and sighing, "they are still young souls. Shūhei, Renji, and the other Shinigami are no older than perhaps one-hundred-fifty years old. And Ichigo and his friends, they're still alive. They're no older than twenty years old. And yet now they've seen more loss and death than any other humans have. It's just not fair."

Yoruichi nodded, sighing sadly. "Well, Kisuke," she said finally, flipping her long purple hair back, "it isn't fair, but what are we gonna do about it?" Kisuke shrugged, shaking his head, making Yoruichi pout slightly, a shadow of her old, playful side still intact. "Oh, come on! I know you have it with you, just in case this happened!" Kisuke shook his head, turning away.

"Even if I used it, now, I'm too weak to use the scroll, and the powers they grant. I'd be useless once I got on the other side." Yoruichi frowned and stood up quickly, grabbing the arm of her friend.

"But what if you didn't have to use it, Kisuke?" Yoruichi said, frowning deeply. "What if someone else, stronger, used the scroll, to make everything the way it should be!"

Kisuke frowned, turning back towards his old friend. The purple-haired vixen nodded back silently, gesturing to the side with the nudge of her head. Slowly, Kisuke looked down the way Yoruichi was gesturing, and a spark of hope entered his heart. Of course, it was so obvious! Kisuke turned back to Yoruichi and smirked.

"Why do you always have to be right?" he asked, shaking his head as he walked back to a certain orange-haired Shinigami.

Ichigo and Renji sat in silence beside each other, neither party needing or wanting to speak much over the events of the last few hours. Both young men easily looked as though they had seen much better days, with Ichigo's whole body except for his head wrapped in several tight bandages, and Renji just as bandaged, along with a broken arm, and unkempt hair that just pooled down his back. Though their injuries were bad, though, it was nothing like the pain the two felt in their hearts.

Renji finally broke the silent, his shoulders slowly shaking as he began to choke out half-restrained sobs. After two or three choked sobs, Renji's whole frame shook with sadness, and he painfully erupted into a fit of tears and moans. Ichigo just gripped his shoulder firmly, unmoving, as Renji continued to break down.

"She…she loved me…Ichi…Ichigo…!" Renji moaned, burying his face in his arms. "We…we…sob…we were gonna…gonna get married…after the…the war! And…and now…" Renji gave up trying to speak and just let out an animalistic, heart-wrenching roar of tears, gripping himself as if he would fall apart at the seams if he let go. Which, currently, didn't seem that wrong of a statement.

Ichigo felt a pang of heartache for his old friend, but just held his shoulder tightly, nodding. He had felt loss and pain before, just like everyone else here. He hadn't lost a love to death, like Renji and Rukia, but his mother had died when he was only nine years old. And his father…and sisters…

Ichigo grimaced, a small, bitter tear slowly rolling down the side of his face. When the Sternritters attacked again, Isshin had come to give as much aid as he could. Unknown to him, Ichigo's little sisters had tagged along, using reiatsu-concealing cloaks that hid them from their father's knowledge. Ichigo didn't know if it was because they wanted to finally help, or if they just wanted to watch their family dish out the hurt for once. But when the Sternritters found them, hiding in the shadows while watching Isshin battle a gun-wielding Sternritter, they had not been spared. Isshin and Ichigo found their bodies lying in a pile of rubble, the Sternritters who had killed them leering dubiously at them. The two Kurosaki/Shibas had quickly torn the Quincies apart, and Isshin had found them too strong to face, even with his son by his side. The sight of his father, grinning weakly at his son before his eyes glazed over in death, ricocheted through Ichigo's head, replaying like a record stuck on repeat.

Between Ichigo's bitterly scowls at the rocky ground, and Renji painful moans, both young men could agree that they were in the worst state they had ever been in their entire lives.

"Life sucks, doesn't it boys?"

Ichigo's scowl grew as the annoying shopkeeper's words slipped over to him, but he sighed and looked up, nodding. He was surprised to see Uruhara's usually sly, conniving smirk replaced with an almost unflinching gaze of suffering, with only a small spark of hope buried deep within his irises. Still, Ichigo, being the straight-forward youth that he was, stood and frowned at the ex-captain and asked slowly, "What do you want, Hat-n-Clogs?"

The blonde-haired man sighed at his student's bluntness and took his hat off, and then did the one thing that surprised both Ichigo and Renji, as well as brought many raised eyebrows throughout the cavern. He knelt down before Ichigo, hand still on his cane, and bowed.

"I am sorry, Ichigo," he said, staring blankly at the ground. "It is my fault your father and sisters are dead, and it's my fault that the rest of the Realm burned into a pile of ash and rubble. I had called Isshin to help with the war, and if I hadn't, Yuzu and Karin would not have come and died. I also had not been prepared for Aizen's return, and because of that, we are the only people still alive in this Realm. It is my fault, and I ask you to forgive me, Ichigo Kurosaki Shiba," he said, staying bowed, "and ask that you help me fix what I have wronged."

To say that Ichigo was shocked would have been the largest understatement of the year. The entire cavern was silent; even Nanao looked up from Shunsui's hat, her sobs cut off as she stared at the ex-captain bowing before the former substitute Shinigami. After a moment or so passed in silence, Ichigo frowned and stepped towards Uruhara.

"First; get up, Uruhara-san! You don't need to kneel, okay?" The ex-captain nodded, quickly standing back up. "Second; what do I have to do to make things right?" Ichigo asked, crossing his arms in front of him. The old shopkeeper smiled and placed his hat back on his head.

"You trust me, Ichigo?" Uruhara asked, staring his old student in the eyes. The orange-haired Shinigami sighed, shaking his head slowly.

"Not really, Uruhara. But, if you say that we can make things right again, then I'll do whatever it takes. Even if it means I have to blindly follow you." Uruhara smirked, glad to see his student was still wary of him, but willing to do anything. His heart really was large enough to save the entire world; maybe he could do this after all.

"Don't worry, Ichigo, I don't plan on leaving you out in the dark," he said, smirking. Slowly, he reached into the sleeve of his shirt and pulled out an ancient, withered looking scroll with a blue ribbon tied around the center. He stared at the old scroll for a moment, and then handed it slowly to Ichigo. "That in your hand, Ichigo, is our one hope at making this right. It is the last-remaining Jikan Scroll, a series of Scrolls made by the first Kidō Commander that can send one soul back to a desired time. By using it, you can travel back in time and stop Aizen before his corruption destroys too much of the Shinigami Realm."

Ichigo nodded, looking over the ancient scroll slowly. "Why aren't you going back, Uruhara-sama?" Renji asked, curiosity and fear biting at the edge of his tongue. The former substitute Shinigami nodded with his friend. It did seem strange that the man who had the scroll that could change the tide was the very man asking him to use it. Why wouldn't he use it himself.

"Unfortunately," Uruhara said, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "I'm not strong enough to use it. The Kidō Commanders didn't want just anyone to use the Jikan Scrolls. They only trusted those strong enough and honorable enough to be able to change time for the better. The Jikan Scroll cannot be used by anyone who is selfish and proud, and only by those who have strength equal to or greater than a Kidō Commander's power. And while I lack in both of those areas, you, my friend, do not." Sighing, he looked again at the scroll in his hand. Ichigo frowned and looked back up at the shopkeeper.

"So, that's why you're asking me to use it…now how do I use it?" Uruhara smirked, stepping back and nodding.

"Well, all you have to do is open the scroll, focus on a time you want to return to, read the incantation on the scroll, and then hope this doesn't blow up in your face." Ichigo glared at Uruhara, and then at everyone else as the other eleven souls slowly backed away from him.

"Simple as that?" he finally asked, undoing the bindings on the scroll and holding it open before him. "All right then…wish me good luck, guys." He sighed, clenching his eyes shut and furrowing his brow as he tried to concentrate. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he opened his eyes and stared at the paper before him. "Ye gods who lay in the heavens, grant me the power to change the past, to heal the present, and to write the future. Change my destiny, save my lost ones, protect my loved ones. Tear open time and send me back to the past! Kakinaoshi Tokei!"

The cavern was suddenly filled with a thick blanket of power. A tear in space, much like a Garganta, slashed out behind him as pale blue energy swirled around him. Ichigo grimaced, feeling a powerful wind or pressure pushing him back, further and further into the crack. With a roar, he clenched his eyes shut, and let go, slipping back into the crack. Instantly, the tear in space sealed, and the wind in the battle cavern died down. Uruhara looked over at the spot Ichigo had been standing in and sighed, lowering the shadow of his hat well below his eyes.

"Good luck, Ichigo. You're our last hope."