The cobblestones of the Seireitei scraped against Silas`s bound wrists, preventing him from accessing his spiritual powers. They were purposefully tightened to make him feel extra pain. Clearly, someone was upset with his actions.

　　After being blindfolded, he was dragged along the streets. His posture was hunched, but he remained calm. News of his rampage had spread like wildfire, painting him as a monster, a Hollow-tainted abomination.

　　"Eat dirt, you emo-punk bastard!" someone yelled, hurling an object at his body. His guards purposefully stopped to let more people do the same. All manner of curse words and threats were made. And despite all that, he didn`t flinch.

　　He knew what awaited him: a trial. Central 46, the monolith of their justice system, was brimming with anticipation of his arrival.

　　Now inside its cold corridors, he was placed and bound to a chair. He couldn`t see because of the blindfold, but he understood his surroundings.

　　Much like in the story, he was more or less in the center of a dark room. All around him were stern-faced noblemen hiding their appearance behind walls. His trial chamber was stark, devoid of ornamentation.

　　Whispers washed over him—traitor, murderer, deceiver. Yet he remained silent, the accusations rolling off. It was clear no one here was going to show him pity.

　　"Ichigo Kurosaki," someone`s voice boomed in the hushed room. "You stand accused of conspiracy against the Seireitei, participating in Hollowfication experiments, homicide, and genocide. How do you plead?"

　　"Innocent&" he said with a steady voice.

　　"Explain yourself," someone urged.

　　Silas spoke, his words laced with conviction, detailing the corruption he`d witnessed and the hidden truths buried beneath the veneer of justice.

　　"You judiciaries cling to an illusion of impartiality, blinded by the darkness festering within your own ranks. You think you can judge me, but no man can. Neither in this world nor the other. While your dubious actions might stem from the lopsided dispensation of power, Soul Reapers are moulded and utilized as sacrificial pawns, willingly surrendering their lives for the illusory collective benefit. This bias permeates your treatment of Quincies and Hollows, who are ostracized with unfounded apprehension, as if their mere existence could jeopardize the cosmic equilibrium. Who can say your organization doesn`t harbour machinations of deception that obfuscate the distinction between benevolence and malevolence?"

　　Many were taken aback by the weight of his words. The air crackled with tension. Utter astonishment filled the room, for no one had imagined he was capable of such a speech.

　　It was, of a truth, too ugly for the Soul Society to acknowledge. The council members reasoned with one another, their expressions unreadable.

　　Finally, someone spoke: "Your claims are... troubling." The Soul`s voice was laced with skepticism. "But accusations without proof are meaningless. You have committed acts of violence, Ichigo Kurosaki! Justice demands retribution!"

　　Silas knew their minds were closed, hardened by years of tradition. He offered no pleas, no defense; he had spoken his truth, understanding beforehand that it wouldn`t change much. But their interrogation was far from over.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author`s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　The room was thick with accusations, flung at him like verbal daggers.

　　"Who are you really?"

　　"Didn`t the reports already state my name?"

　　To be frank, the question in itself was redundant to ask. But it was clear they were trying to interrogate him as much as they could.

　　"We ran a thorough check on your ZanpakutM," someone announced. "How long have you been harbouring a Hollow inside it?"

　　"It`s a Hollow-made ZanpakutM," Silas revealed.

　　Whispers and murmurs plagued the room again. The only ZanpakutM like that to ever exist was locked up in the Royal Palace, which hardly anyone here knew much about.

　　A Soul quieted the room before asking, "You are oddly calm for someone who might be sentenced to death; wouldn`t you agree? Is the reason your eyes have changed because of that ZanpakutM?"

　　This was the first reasonable question someone asked. Sadly, Silas was not going to answer.

　　"Silence won`t do your sentence any good, boy!"

　　"Sounds like you`ve haven`t determined what my sentence even is."

　　The noble`s tone became angrier. In a fit of rage, he threatened to seal away his ZanpakutM forever. At the mention of his weapon, another judge asked, "You released your Bankai during the battle, but it was reported that nothing happened. Are we to believe you are without any powers?"

　　"Believe what you will&"

　　A second judge became upset, stating that they weren`t getting anywhere due to Silas`s short answers. Apart from having slain a captain and making a fool of their governmental laws, he was still the only one to stop Aizen.

　　"You will show respect to this council!" someone roared, slamming his fist on the table.

　　Unfazed, Silas tilted his head, his calmness a stark contrast to the agitated officials. "Respect is earned, not demanded. And the Soul Society has earned none from me."

　　A murmur rippled through the room. This wasn`t the submissive suspect they expected. Like a real courtroom, a noble tried to level with him, saying, "Mr. Kurosaki, your crimes are grave. They are disturbing to read. But you understand, without evidence of some of those crimes, they are merely accusations."

　　"Accusations are what you things excel at."

　　His words resonated in the silence that followed. A sense of unease coursed through many of the members. They couldn`t tell if this was a fa鏰de, if he was tempting them, or if he wanted to be executed.

　　Their authority started to crack. The interrogation pressed on as another Soul asked, "What happened to your family?"

　　"Whatever do you mean?" Silas ignorantly answered. "My family is none of the Soul Society`s concerns."

　　Each of them looked at one another, unsure if he was aware that the Kurosaki family had died. Silas played the fool, and he played it well, so they moved on.

　　" " "

　　Hours were blurred with monotonous accusations and defiant retorts. They all pertained to the death of Yoruichi ShihMin, Rukia Kuchiki`s involvement, and Kisuke Urahara`s whereabouts. Above all, he was compared to the likes of Aizen, with one nobleman claiming the two were one in the same.

　　Yet Silas never lost his composure. He answered each question with a calm attitude, weaving narratives that tried to expose his crimes.

　　"We have one last question for you, Mr. Kurosaki... There was a book found on your person. When we examined it, no texts were found inside. The pages were blank. I am curious."

　　The only book Silas carried with him was the Holy Bible he had found back in Karakura Town. This was the first time he had someone else open it. Not even the clerk who had let him have it bothered to read it at the time. What could this mean? Did them being unable to read it have anything to do with how he came to this world?

　　He remained silent, unable to answer.

　　As dawn approached, the exhaustion etched on the tones of the members, who stated they required time to consider the situation. Yet that didn`t mean he wasn`t going to be given a sentence.

　　"Until we can find where your artificial soul ventured off to, you are to be locked away at the deepest level of the underground prison! Your Hollowfied ZanpakutM will also be confiscated and destroyed due to suspects of tampering!"

　　Silas, battered but unbroken, gave an inward smile. He was then led away, leaving behind a stunned silence. Whether his sentence was justified or not, one thing was certain: no one wished to let him freely roam either the Soul Society or the world of the living.