Billions of blades turned into Sakura petals, filling the sky above Aizen. The oppressive weight of Byakuya Kuchiki's Reiatsu blanketed the battlefield. His gaze was cold, his blade lowered, and his voice carried softly across the ruins.
"Kageyoshi, Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."
The chaos of countless blades collapsed into a massive sphere, sealing Aizen at its center. The scale was vast enough to engulf half of Karakura Town. Byakuya's plan was brutally simple—since it was impossible to discern his enemy's position, he would suppress all directions with overwhelming firepower.
The roar was deafening. Billions of blades rained down, shattering rubble, tearing through stone, and driving up columns of dust that blotted out the sun. Yet amid that maelstrom of steel, Byakuya's expression did not ease. His focus remained locked ahead. He could still sense it—Aizen's Reiatsu had not shifted in the slightest.
From within the collapsing storm of blades, Aizen emerged unhurriedly. His uniform remained intact, marked only by faint scorch marks from Yamamoto's earlier strike. Beyond that, his body bore no trace of injury. The Hōgyoku's evolution had already been refined, his power stabilized to a level that erased all signs of weakness.
"To fight without dispelling Kyōka Suigetsu is meaningless. You cannot contest me on equal ground." Aizen's tone was calm, unshaken. "Withdraw, Byakuya Kuchiki. This battlefield lies beyond your reach."
The words stung. Genius, pride, and duty churned together, refusing acceptance. Wings of light unfurled behind Byakuya as he prepared to call forth the final form, Hakuteiken, the White Emperor Sword, determined to strike again.
But another voice cut through.
"Byakuya. Go. Tend to the others."
Moyu's tone carried a cold finality. His gaze was steel, his will irresistible. "The captains are broken. Even the aftermath of this clash will kill them if they linger. Do not waste yourself here."
A brief silence. Then Byakuya lowered his blade, hesitation swallowed by recognition. Without another word, he withdrew toward the ruins where his comrades lay.
Aizen's eyes flickered, faint surprise crossing his features. "For Byakuya Kuchiki to trust you so readily… remarkable."
"It is not only trust," Moyu replied evenly. "It is self-knowledge. Against Kyōka Suigetsu, he has no means of resistance. Save your words, Aizen. This battle—you have long awaited it."
The air trembled as markings lit Moyu's brow. Black winds surged into Lanyin, his Zanpakutō erupting with violent breath. Ancient inscriptions burned along the blade, the surrounding space itself groaning as though torn apart.
Aizen's gaze sharpened, recognizing the change. "You are stronger than before."
Moyu's lips curved into a thin smile. "When I stand here unbroken before you, you should have realized. Creatures like Ulquiorra or Ouroboros are not foes one simply encounters at random."
"That is true," Aizen murmured. "But before we resume, there is an old friend eager to see you."
He raised his left hand, fingertips carving the air. Space split under the pressure of his Reiatsu, a black garganta blooming open. From its depths stepped a figure in white, wings like skeletal bone unfurling, upper body human-like, lower half a writhing mass of tentacles. His very presence exuded horror.
The face, arrogant and twisted, locked greedily upon Moyu.
Moyu's expression hardened in recognition.
"Mr. Moyu should know him well," Aizen said lightly, a smile touching his lips. "Yet I will make the introduction. Zero Espada—Szayelaporro Granz."
The Arrancar bent at the waist, expression shifting from feral hunger to polished elegance. His tone was smooth, disturbingly familiar. "It has been a long time, Mr. Moyu."
Though his form seemed unchanged, Moyu felt the discord in his Reiatsu. Chaotic spiritual threads twisted unnaturally, tangled into one grotesque whole.
"You sense it, don't you?" Szayelaporro's eyes gleamed. "My soul has fused with fragments of the original Espada… and with traces of your own Reiatsu. Anchored by the Hōgyoku, I have crossed the boundaries of Shinigami and Hollow. A perfect work—madness and genius woven as one." His voice rose with fanatic fever. "Our battle was never finished. Let us continue it now!"
Four bone-like wings quivered as he raised both arms. From his palms erupted light that shot into the sky. "Blockade."
Rainbow-hued energy spilled outward, a lattice of light caging Karakura Town in a suffocating barrier.
"Quantity means nothing to those like you," Szayelaporro raved, "but when quantity evolves into quality—when I devour the strongest souls of Hueco Mundo itself—that becomes transcendence!"
His face twisted with exaltation. "Behold. Extreme Extinction—Cero!"
At his command, the heavens themselves seemed to ignite. Light condensed around him, hardened into a beam of ink-black radiance. Reiatsu so vast it distorted gravity poured down upon the ruined city.
The torrent engulfed Karakura Town, its sheer pressure reducing buildings to dust, suspending ash in midair like starlight. The roar tore across the sky, swallowing earth and heavens alike.
And within its path—the figure of Moyu vanished into the devouring void.
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