Listening to the boy's voice, Ichimaru Gin felt a strange nostalgia stirring deep within him, pulling his thoughts back to the beginning—back to that day outside the Captain's assembly hall when the boy, still young and bright-eyed, had looked up and asked in a tone so casual it almost sounded like mockery, "Do you believe in love?"
At that moment, Gin's killing intent had flared instinctively. That question, simple as it seemed, had struck at the deepest secret buried in his heart, a truth he had long vowed to protect with his life. He would have given everything to keep it hidden. Yet in the end, it had only been a careless question from a mischievous youth—or so he had thought.
Now, watching the faint, knowing smile curve across that same boy's face, Gin finally understood. It hadn't been a joke at all. The boy had known the truth from the very start.
"VR…" Gin's voice caught in his throat. "How did you find out?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with disbelief. A tangle of shock, confusion, and something close to fear tightened inside him, leaving his mind momentarily blank. He stared at the boy as though seeing something beyond comprehension—something that defied human or Shinigami reason.
Was this being before him truly human… or something else entirely?
"Did you forget?" The boy's smile deepened. "I can tell fortunes." His eyes glinted with teasing amusement. "Just by looking at you, I could tell that deep down, you're a hopeless romantic."
Gin fell silent. The excuse was absurd, even laughable, but coming from this boy, absurdity itself had long since become the norm.
He's evolved again, Gin thought, his mind shifting back to the moment at hand. Can he still win?
He asked the question aloud, his voice low.
The boy turned his gaze toward Aizen, the faint trace of a smile still playing at his lips. The earlier exchange had left nothing but shallow footprints on Aizen's chest—marks that spoke volumes of the overwhelming gap between them. The Aizen standing now was far beyond his former self, his power refined to something terrifyingly absolute.
Yet the boy's expression remained calm, unshaken.
"I wasn't too confident before," he admitted, his tone almost lazy. "But after trading a few blows, I realized he's not as untouchable as I thought. Maybe I've read too many comics and built him up too much in my head. He's strong, sure, but…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "He's not impossible."
He rolled up his sleeves, shoulders relaxing as if preparing for something routine rather than divine.
Watching him, Gin could only stare. The boy's words made no sense—read too many comics?—and his behavior was even stranger. He had already fought one round with Aizen, and only now did he begin to "warm up." It was baffling.
"A-Li…" Suì-Fēng's voice was soft, her eyes following every movement of the young man as he stretched lightly among the shattered ruins.
"His Ultra Instinct state…" Kyōraku Shunsui murmured, his gaze sharpening. "It's gone, hasn't it?"
The others froze. The intense heat that had once radiated from the boy's body had vanished, and his arm—once marked by silver energy—had returned to normal. His aura was calm, almost ordinary.
Worry rippled through the captains. When he had fought earlier, he had relied on that instinctive state to suppress Aizen's evolving might. Now, with Aizen ascended to something beyond Shinigami comprehension, Su Li appeared to have stepped down from his own pinnacle.
"Could it be he's run out of energy?" Yamamoto Genryūsai's voice was grave. He knew well how much the Ultra Instinct taxed the body. To maintain it even briefly required an immense outpouring of physical and spiritual strength. If Su Li had exhausted that reservoir, he could no longer sustain it.
"Hey, old man," Shunsui said lightly, though his grin was tight. "Does that look like exhaustion to you?"
"No," Unohana Retsu's voice interrupted, calm but carrying an edge of concern that silenced the others. "I believe it's very possible." Her eyes didn't leave the boy. "Captain Su Li has used Ultra Instinct more than once today."
The words fell like stones into still water, spreading silence through the captains.
"He used it once in Hueco Mundo," Unohana continued, her tone quiet yet steady. "And again just now against Aizen."
The weight of her words pressed down on all of them. Using that state twice in such rapid succession… the toll on body and soul was unimaginable.
No wonder, they realized, that his current movements weren't the warm-up they appeared to be. He wasn't preparing to fight—he was loosening muscles already worn to their limit. From Hueco Mundo to the execution grounds, Su Li had fought without pause, carving a path through Espada, Hollows, and fate itself. The battle against Aizen had only pushed him further.
The captains could see it now: his steady breathing, the light tension in his shoulders, the faint tremor in his fingertips. He wasn't resting because he wanted to—he was fighting to keep going at all.
A heavy silence fell over them.
"A-Li…" Suì-Fēng whispered, her voice trembling.
Kyōraku's jaw tightened. "Damn it…"
Yamamoto said nothing, his aged face carved with quiet fury and helpless respect. Every captain present felt the same—anger at their own powerlessness, grief for what they could not change, and an ache of admiration for the youth who stood alone between them and annihilation.
The boy exhaled softly, his breath steadying as he stopped moving. His haori was soaked through with sweat, clinging to his frame. Every sign confirmed what they had feared: he wasn't warming up. He was recovering.
"Your physical strength is nearly spent," Aizen observed, his voice calm, detached. He could read the signs as clearly as any of them.
"Well," Su Li said quietly, a faint smile touching his lips, "almost."
But what he meant was not almost exhausted. It was almost restored.
The next gear was ready to engage.
"So then," Aizen asked, amusement flickering in his eyes, "how do you plan to defeat me now?"
Faces darkened all around. How indeed?
Yamamoto lowered his gaze to his remaining arm, resolve kindling in his eyes. But before he could act, Su Li's voice rang out, sharp and clear across the battlefield.
"Omaeda," he called. "Sing something for me."
The Second Division's lieutenant froze, eyes wide. He understood instantly—it wasn't a joke. Su Li wasn't buying time or playing games. He was asking.
To move forward, to pierce through despair itself, he needed that voice.
Omaeda drew a deep breath and began to sing, his tone steady, resonant with a rare gravity.
"Honest and brave souls walk through the dark forest, reaching the end of the road to pluck the blooming lisianthus…"
The simple melody drifted across the ruins. Somehow, it fit perfectly.
As the song carried through the air, Su Li's aura shifted again. Heat burst outward, fiercer than before, shaking the ground. His hair flared white, every strand shining like moonlight, and his eyes—calm, fathomless, ancient—glimmered with the light of collapsing stars.
The captains could only stare, breath stolen.
"Is that… Ultra Instinct?"
"It feels similar—but it's not the same!"
"What is this power? Has he been holding back all along?"
Even Aizen's faint smile wavered for a heartbeat as the boy's Reiatsu surged beyond measure.
Only Suì-Fēng was not surprised. Her eyes softened as she watched the white-haired figure standing tall amid the rising light. She had seen his progress step by step, had witnessed his struggle to refine instinct into control, power into truth.
This was what he had called it—
his final evolution,
the state beyond fear or limitation,
beyond instinct or technique.
True freedom.
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