A total and absolute domination

"Impossible!"

"You think that kind of trick will fool a three-year-old, Aiyan?!"

"Collapse, Sakanade!"

Hirako Shinji shouted again, calling out his Zanpakutō's release command and true name—refusing to believe what was happening.

But nothing happened.

Just as Aiyan had said.

Sakanade remained in its sealed form, no matter how many times he called its name or tried to release it.

His Shikai had truly been sealed—like it had reverted to a state from a hundred years ago.

Aiyan looked at him silently, his expression calm and cold.

Pfft—

Before Shinji could speak, Aiyan pushed the blade forward, driving it deeper into Shinji's body. The pain surged again.

"My mistake," Aiyan said coldly. "I forgot. Your Sakanade is sealed, which means the reversed world effect is gone. When I push my hand forward, it really does go forward."

He didn't sound sorry at all.

Blood foamed from Shinji's mouth, and he coughed it out toward Aiyan—but before it reached him, it was swallowed into the swirling black mist still radiating from Aiyan's hand.

"Mind your manners. Don't spray blood everywhere."

"You're still a captain of the Gotei 13, aren't you, Hirako Shinji?"

Aiyan calmly pulled his Zanpakutō out, blood spraying from the wound as Shinji fell to his knees. Only by using his sealed sword as a crutch could he keep himself from collapsing entirely.

Aiyan sheathed his blade with a slow, deliberate motion.

"I'll only say this once."

"If you want to live, put away your sword."

"Stop clinging to illusions. It's over—just like your position as captain. It's all over, Hirako Shinji."

"What did you say?!"

"I'm the captain of the Fifth Division!"

"You think you can replace me? Dream on!"

Shinji roared with rage, all sense of reason forgotten. Even though his body was falling apart and he could barely stand, his spiritual pressure surged. He leapt into the air, blade raised, his lips forming a familiar command—

"Looks like you don't understand human speech."

Aiyan's voice turned colder. He raised his hand again.

Before Shinji could finish his Bankai callout, an overwhelming gravitational pull yanked the Zanpakutō from his hands. His fingers opened involuntarily, and the sword flew into Aiyan's grasp.

Shinji reached for it—but it was useless.

His body couldn't fight against the crushing gravity. The sword grew further and further away.

Clack—

The moment Sakanade landed in Aiyan's hand, Shinji felt a deep chill run through him.

That same overwhelming silence—the same eerie disconnect from his Zanpakutō spirit—returned.

His Bankai, the most powerful ability he possessed, wouldn't respond.

He couldn't even feel Sakanade anymore.

"Nurturing it?"

"To me, it's nothing more than a pebble in the way of my shadow."

"And you're the same, Hirako Shinji."

Aiyan twirled the sword between his fingers, then casually tossed it away.

"Sakashima Yokoshima Happōfusagari!"

Shinji shouted, attempting to force out his Bankai name again, trying to re-establish a connection.

But nothing.

The Zanpakutō remained lifeless.

"You should stop shouting now."

"You already know it's meaningless."

Aiyan raised his hand again—and launched the blade straight at Shinji.

Pfft—

The blade stabbed into Shinji's chest, the tip bursting from his back.

It was the final straw.

His Reiatsu crashed.

Shinji's strength evaporated.

With a shuddering gasp, he collapsed backward, landing hard. Blood poured from his wounds, soaking the white haori of the Fifth Division and painting the floor beneath him red.

He didn't even try to get up.

If the first strike had crippled his body—

Then the loss of his Shikai, the loss of his Bankai, and the complete domination of his Zanpakutō's will—

Had completely crushed his spirit.

He didn't struggle anymore. Didn't speak.

He just sat there, slumped in a pool of his own blood.

Silent.

Broken.

At that moment, Hirako Shinji truly accepted the situation.

Just like Aiyan said.

It was over.

There were no more illusions.

No more resistance.

The difference in power was too great.

"A captain… reduced to this?"

"Captain Hirako is second only to legends like Captain Yamamoto, Unohana, Kyoraku, Ukitake, Kuchiki, and Shutara."

"How did he get destroyed so easily?"

"It was like a captain disciplining a squad member… he couldn't even fight back."

"And he couldn't even use Bankai…"

"He was defeated with a single move."

The 600 Shinigami watching outside the barrier looked at each other, stunned.

This was a captain of the Gotei 13.

Even in a sealed state, a captain was a walking catastrophe.

And Hirako Shinji wasn't some newly promoted captain—he was a veteran, with over a hundred years of experience and mastered Bankai.

But the result?

Completely helpless.

Destroyed.

Like a grain of sand brushed away by the wind.

"...Is it over?"

Shiba Isshin, who was tasked with monitoring the battle, murmured softly.

He was one of the few who truly understood Aiyan's strength.

But even he hadn't expected this.

This wasn't a captain-level battle.

A total and absolute domination.