"Bankai!?"
"It actually used… Bankai!?"
The voices of shock came one after another. Every Shinigami present, including Kyoraku Shunsui, had their faces pale with disbelief as they stared at the upside-down, golden figure hanging in the air across from them.
The truth was brutal: because their Zanpakutō spirits had been bewitched and turned against them, most of the captains and lieutenants here could no longer rely on their own Bankai. Some struggled even to summon Shikai.
But now, right before their eyes, a manifested Zanpakutō spirit had unleashed its Bankai without hesitation.
The difference between Shikai and Bankai was like heaven and earth. The leap in power was enormous—enough to decide the outcome of a battle instantly.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō clenched Hyōrinmaru tightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he turned toward Hirako Shinji.
"Oi, Hirako. What is the ability of your Zanpakutō?"
Every head turned at once. Normally, the abilities of a Shinigami's blade were secrets guarded with utmost care. They were trump cards—hidden until the moment of absolute necessity. Even among allies, captains rarely revealed the full truth of their powers.
Kyoraku Shunsui never explained the games of Katen Kyōkotsu. Ukitake Jūshirō kept Sōgyo no Kotowari's power mysterious. And Urahara Kisuke, as clever as he was, buried his Zanpakutō's ability in riddles.
So for Tōshirō to ask so bluntly meant the situation was dire.
Sweat rolled down Hirako Shinji's forehead. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak quickly, his voice uneasy.
"From here on out, everyone stay calm. No matter what you see—don't attack. Don't move recklessly."
"Ha!?"
The Shinigami around him stiffened, exchanging stunned looks.
Shinji drew in a sharp breath and explained, though his words trembled.
"My Zanpakutō, when released in Shikai, reverses the senses. When the blade is drawn backward, it releases a fragrance. Once an opponent inhales that scent, their sense of direction is inverted. Up becomes down, left becomes right, forward becomes back… everything flips."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously.
"And Bankai…" Shinji's voice was dry, cracking under the weight of what he was forced to admit.
"The Bankai reverses everything. Not just direction. Not just senses. It inverts the very recognition of ally and enemy. Everyone caught in its range, whether comrade or foe… turns on each other."
His words echoed across the battlefield like a death knell.
The Shinigami present froze in disbelief. The implications sank in like lead.
A Zanpakutō that forced comrades to slaughter one another indiscriminately? It was madness. It was chaos incarnate. And in the hands of the enemy… it was devastation.
While everyone struggled to absorb this, the manifestation of Shinji's blade—its upside-down yellow figure—moved.
Beneath it, the ground shimmered. Gleaming petals of brass materialized, unfolding beneath its feet before slowly curling shut, forming a golden bud that glowed ominously.
In that instant, every Shinigami's face twisted in horror. Their instincts screamed at them. Their senses were warping, rebelling against reason.
To their eyes and ears, enemies were everywhere.
They could feel blades aimed at them from all directions. They could sense killing intent surrounding them. Their instincts demanded they strike back before they were struck down themselves.
It took everything they had to resist. Shinji's desperate warning replayed in their minds—Don't attack.
Clenching their teeth, the captains and lieutenants suppressed their murderous impulses with sheer willpower.
Shinji himself, however, had no choice but to act.
His face was pale, his eyes wide with resolve as he charged forward, blade in hand, rushing directly at the manifested form of his Zanpakutō.
The others began to retreat, slowly widening the distance. The further they were from Shinji's Bankai's domain, the safer they would be. If they lingered too close, one slip would mean bloodshed among allies.
But just as the Shinigami staggered back, another threat appeared.
From the horizon, several figures emerged, their white uniforms stark against the battlefield. Quincy.
Their steps were silent, their eyes cold, their bows already forming in their hands.
Among them, leading the charge, was Kirge Opie, his expression one of cruel delight. His sharp features twisted into a predator's smile as he lifted his weapon, the steel of his sword catching the faint light.
"Kill them."
His order was as casual as it was merciless.
In the next instant, countless blue arrows rained down from the Quincy ranks like a storm.
The captains and lieutenants of the Gotei 13 barely had time to react.
Kyoraku's eyes widened. Ukitake's expression hardened. Tōshirō's grip tightened. Instinct took over.
They moved to counterattack, blades flashing upward to cut through the incoming storm of Quincy arrows.
But in the cruel twist of fate created by Shinji's own Bankai, their counterattacks betrayed them.
Kyoraku Shunsui's blade turned, slashing at Jūshirō Ukitake.
Muguruma Kensei struck violently at Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō swung against Sarugaki Hiyori.
The battlefield descended into chaos.
Confusion turned instantly into bloodshed. Allies struck one another down, their blades and kidō colliding with the very comrades they had sworn to fight alongside. The weaker Shinigami, unable to defend themselves in the storm of madness, were cut and injured immediately.
The ground was littered with blood and broken cries.
Watching from a distance, Kirge Opie's cruel smile widened.
He observed the confusion, the Shinigami tearing into each other like puppets dancing on invisible strings. Their discipline, their unity—broken in an instant by the reversal of perception.
He tilted his head back and laughed, his voice sharp and scornful.
"To think… Aizen still has such tricks left in his arsenal. I must admit… he is clever. Truly clever."
The words dripped with mockery, but there was no denying the effectiveness.
The battlefield had become a nightmare—friends and comrades clashing against each other while the Quincy looked on, arrows ready to finish the slaughter.
"Let the Shinigami fight against their own Zanpakutō… to be wounded by the very power they once trusted…"
Voices of mockery and awe overlapped.
"Your Majesty truly is Your Majesty. With Aizen's aid, Soul Society will surely crumble…"
"I can hardly stand to watch… this is too perfect…"
Nanaya's gaze narrowed as he observed the chaos unraveling before him. The battlefield had become a nightmare of twisted loyalties, comrades forced to strike at each other under the manipulation of their own blades. His brows furrowed, his expression darkening.
He raised his left hand toward the manifested form of Shinji's Zanpakutō, its violent aura surging uncontrollably.
"Don't blame me if your Zanpakutō breaks…"
His voice was calm, but merciless.
"Nine Tails!"
In an instant, the palm of Nanaya's hand glowed pure white. The light writhed and expanded, twisting into a monstrous form. A colossal fox with nine tails unfurled from the radiance, its body stretching endlessly across the battlefield.
The Nine Tails roared, its voice shaking the heavens.
Kirge Opie, who only moments earlier had been smiling in cruel satisfaction, froze in shock. His face drained of color as he stared at the beast.
"What… what kind of monster is that!? Stop it! Quickly!"
His command echoed like a whip crack.
Behind him, the other Quincy instantly raised their bows. Blue light flared as thousands of reishi arrows were drawn and fired in unison.
A rainstorm of arrows descended, hissing as they tore through the air toward the massive white fox.
But when they struck, the result was pitiful. The arrows shattered uselessly against the enormous body. Compared to the vastness of the Nine Tails, their attacks were like gnats biting into stone. The monster didn't even flinch.
Kirge's teeth clenched. He had no choice but to act himself.
In his right hand, a blue blade formed, gleaming with condensed reishi. He swung it upward, then leveled the tip at the roaring beast. His voice thundered with command:
"Monster—be bound! Prison!"
It was the activation of his Schrift, the sacred letter bestowed by Yhwach himself.
The blade pulsed with power. From its tip, bands of reishi shot outward, wrapping around the Nine Tails. The light solidified, shaping into a massive cage of spiritual particles.
The fox snarled, thrashing violently as the spherical cage sealed tighter, layer after layer binding its body. The roaring monster was swallowed whole inside a blue prison, its strength locked away by the Quincy's power.
Kirge exhaled slowly, his expression tense but triumphant.
"Did it… succeed?"
His gaze lingered nervously on the caged beast. His instincts screamed that this was no ordinary technique. He knew the truth—this was Nanaya's power.
Both Aizen Sōsuke and Yhwach had listed Nanaya as the highest tier of special threat. To have such a monster caged gave him pride, but also dread.
Far away, Nanaya himself smirked, a sharp glint in his eyes.
"You think you're Namikaze Minato?"
His words cut the air with mocking disdain.
At his thought, the white Nine Tails rippled. Its body melted, shifting into a liquid-like state. Then—boom—it exploded from within.
From its ruptured form burst eight more monstrous shapes, each with tails whipping through the air like whips of destruction.
One Tail. Two Tails. Three Tails. Four Tails. Five Tails. Six Tails. Seven Tails. Eight Tails.
All eight ferocious beasts erupted outward, roaring in unison as they hurled themselves against the prison of blue reishi.
The cage groaned, fissures spiderwebbing across its glowing surface.
Then—
CRASH!
The prison shattered apart with a deafening explosion. The eight beasts poured free, their roars shaking the battlefield.
Their eyes burned with feral hunger as they pounced directly onto the manifested Zanpakutō spirit, Evil Eight Treasures, the same one clashing with Hirako Shinji.
Claws tore into flesh. Jaws sank deep. The spirit screamed as its body was shredded, blood spraying violently across the ground.
Shinji's heart clenched with agony at the sight of his own Zanpakutō spirit being ripped apart. But he knew better than to falter now.
He seized the chance.
The moment the beasts pinned the spirit down, Shinji lunged forward, Zanpakutō in hand.
With a sharp cry, he drove the blade through the spirit's body.
The manifestation let out a final scream before dissolving, its form merging back into Shinji's sword.
Instantly, the chaos that had consumed the Shinigami ended.
Those who had been striking their comrades froze, their eyes clearing. The compulsion to kill faded away. The battlefield was left in silence, broken only by the groans of the wounded.
The captains and lieutenants glanced at one another, their breaths heavy, their comrades' blood staining their blades. Anger flared in their eyes.
Their gazes turned as one toward the Quincy.
"You bastards…" Shinji's voice trembled with fury. His grip on his blade tightened until his knuckles whitened. "I'll never forgive you!"
Rage burned in his chest as he charged forward, his blade ready.
"Bankai—Nifu Hachibōsai!"
Power exploded outward as Shinji's Bankai returned to him. His reiatsu surged, oppressive and wild, filling the battlefield with its crushing weight.
The Bankai's ability spread immediately, its effect beginning to distort the perception of all Quincy in range. Their recognition of "ally" and "enemy" began to blur, ready to invert.
Shinji's plan was simple: turn the Quincies against each other, force them to slaughter one another just as his comrades had been forced moments ago.
But—
Kirge Opie sneered. His cold eyes glinted as he leveled his weapon directly at Shinji.
"Idiot. I was waiting for this exact moment."
He raised his hand high, his voice ringing with incantation:
"Dissolve! The sea becomes clouds, the clouds become rain, the rain becomes mist, the visible becomes invisible, and when joy fades, the cup shatters upon the ground! Come forth!"
In the next instant, to the shock of every Shinigami present, Shinji's reiatsu—his surging Bankai—faltered.
The wave of power was pulled away, siphoned into a blue light that wrapped around Kirge's weapon.
Shinji staggered, his body trembling as the Bankai collapsed, crushed under an unseen force.
Before their eyes, the impossible happened—his Bankai form was shattered and forced back.
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