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"Su Li…" Aizen's voice carried an edge of rare sincerity, his gaze fixed upon the man before him, calm but sharpened with the weight of true regard. "You truly surprise me. I admit, I've never been able to see through you—your actions and your strength always exceed my expectations. Of everyone I've met, you are the one I find the most troublesome." His tone was even, almost conversational, but his eyes never stopped calculating every movement, every breath Su Li took.
Su Li met his stare in silence, arms loosely folded, his composure untouched by the tension thickening the air. Aizen's voice dropped lower, the faintest trace of disdain slipping through. "But that ends here." In that instant, a crushing spiritual pressure erupted from him, vast and suffocating, rolling outward like an unrelenting tide. It bore the same terrible weight as the reiatsu once unleashed by Yamamoto Genryūsai himself, pressing down on every soul present until the air felt like iron. The ground trembled beneath its force; faces turned pale, muscles strained under the invisible weight, and breath came only in shallow, pained draws. Orihime's vision blurred and went black before she could even brace herself, her body collapsing where she stood.
Ichigo gritted his teeth, forcing his knees to lock against the pressure, each breath searing his lungs. "This guy… is terrifying…" Renji, equally stricken, kept his eyes locked forward, the strain etched into every line of his face. The truth was plain—reiatsu was the purest measure of a Shinigami's might, and Aizen's had transcended every known limit, eclipsing the understanding of those who felt it. Sasakibe's thoughts turned dark as he measured the weight of what he sensed. "This strength… it might not be beneath the Captain-Commander's." The words chilled him, for he realized with unease that he had once said something strikingly similar about another man. Slowly, his head turned toward the quiet figure opposite Aizen, a thought forming in the shadow of his mind: there were two monsters standing here.
Without Orihime's Shun Shun Rikka, Ichigo and the others felt as though their bones might snap under the pressure. Ichigo's face twisted with defiance as his gaze locked on the two figures; the fire in his eyes refused to yield even as his body trembled. "Can that guy… actually win?" he muttered. Renji's jaw clenched, his voice low but unshaken. "Su Li… you'd better."
At the epicenter of that suffocating storm, Su Li stood unaffected, his expression unchanging. The titanic pressure that had crushed everyone else rolled over him without so much as a ripple. Aizen mirrored that stillness, their gazes locked in a silent exchange that needed no words. For those watching, it was like witnessing two titans who belonged to another world entirely, beings whose depths could never be measured.
Far from the hill, Yoruichi's amber eyes narrowed, her speed increasing with each stride. "Soi-Fon! Faster!" she called back, her tone edged with urgency. The Second Division captain's voice was grim as her reiatsu flared in response. "That man… Aizen… he's been hiding this much power all along?" The weight in her words matched the fear in her eyes; even without a full exchange of blows, she could tell—judged by reiatsu alone, Aizen had surpassed every captain in the Gotei 13 except Yamamoto himself. For centuries, the Captain-Commander had stood unchallenged as the strongest Shinigami alive; for someone to rise quietly to that same height and remain hidden within their ranks was as unthinkable as it was dangerous. They pushed themselves harder, their pace a blur against the wind.
Elsewhere, Kyōraku Shunsui's voice carried no hint of his usual playful drawl. "Not good. That strength… it's almost at Old Man Yamamoto's level." Ukitake's face was set in uncharacteristic severity. "Aizen… with such power… why hide it until now?" Ahead of them, Yamamoto Genryūsai ran without a word, his expression hard since the moment he had received the message from Central 46. "Run faster," he ordered without looking back, and all three captains increased their speed.
All across Seireitei, the Gotei 13 moved toward SĹŤkyoku Hill. Every captain, lieutenant, and seated officer knew of Aizen's betrayal, and each carried the weight of what it meant. In the Twelfth Division, however, the mood was different. Within the captain's quarters, Nemu stood by the edge of a steaming bath, her voice soft as she asked, "Are you truly not going, Captain?" Mayuri Kurotsuchi rose from the water, droplets sliding from his painted skin as he answered with cold disinterest. "Tch. How boring."
In another corner of Seireitei, in a shadowed alley, Kenpachi Zaraki's spirit pressure flared wild and untamed. "Where next, Yachiru?" he asked, his voice thrumming with anticipation. "Here, here!" she chirped, pointing down the narrow lane. The smile that split Kenpachi's face was pure hunger, and without hesitation, he charged in the direction she indicated.
Back atop Sōkyoku Hill, the atmosphere felt ready to shatter under the strain. Aizen moved first, lifting his hand slowly and extending a single finger toward Su Li. The gesture, stripped of context, would have looked almost childish—a street-level provocation, a dare. But no one present found humor in it. Ichigo's breath caught as memory flared—he had seen that same finger stop his full-powered Bankai strike as though it were nothing. At Aizen's level, even a single fingertip could carry the power to end a captain.
The crowd was silent, every breath held. Su Li's brow rose slightly as the finger neared, and then—without warning—his hand moved. The sound was sharp and sudden, a clean crack echoing across the hill as Aizen's glasses flew from his face and a vivid red mark appeared on his cheek. Gasps erupted from every direction. Aizen's eyes widened slightly; in all his calculations, this had never been among the possibilities.
Su Li's voice was calm, unhurried, but edged with quiet authority. "If you have something to say, say it. Don't point." The absurdity of the act clashed with the gravity of the moment, and yet no one doubted the intent behind it. Aizen turned back toward him, disbelief clear in his gaze. For all his preparation, he had not foreseen that their first exchange would lack hakuda precision, devastating kicks, or famed techniques. No, it had begun with nothing more than a slap.
And Su Li was not finished. The second strike landed just as clean, the sound cutting through the air. "One," Su Li said evenly, "for Rukia. And one… for Hinamori Momo."
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