Inuzuri, 78th District of the Rukongai, is dry, featureless, and hot, filled with thieves and murderers. It's probably just about the closest someone can get to Purgatory while still keeping to Soul Society. Fitting, Obito thinks wryly, that this is where he woke up.

Orochimaru and his sons crash-land in Karakura. Soul Society is most definitely not prepared for what’s coming.

“Kid, this is Kurosaki Ichigo,” Kūkaku says, and there's something crafty in her expression that makes her look far too much like Urahara for comfort. “Ichigo, this is Uchiha Obito, resident ninja.” “Ninja?” Ichigo repeats, dropping the attempt at politeness in favor of incredulity. “You mean like a ninja ninja?”

Shūhei is in the middle of trying to figure out how to tell his captain we don’t do things that way anymore because that system is outdated and also wrong when the whole world lurches under his feet.

Ichigo's found his Sky. Things are just...a little turbulent while everyone adjusts.

Xanxus’s Sky-born intuition is a rough, ragged thing, more given to acute paranoia than any helpful impulses, but he has it. He’s always had it, even when he chooses to ignore it, but some moments it gets harder to push it down, shut it out, focus on logic and reason instead of that little voice screaming in the back of his thoughts. Not Vongola Hyper Intuition, but bad enough on a normal day. Worse, now. So much worse. His instincts are going fucking nuts, and Xanxus can't even begin to figure out why.