The three assassins stood regrouped, their released Zanpakutos humming with distinct, lethal energies. The air crackled with the mixed scent of lightning, the poisonous drip of venom, and the spatial distortion of invisible blades. Their formation was perfect, their intent was simpe, to carry out the purpose their lord has given them. And the purpose was to kill him.
Akio's cold smile didn't waver. "Hah. Well, guess it's time to reveal it," he said, his voice cutting through the tension.
He raised his standard Zanpakutō before him, the blade catching the pale sunlight. He didn't shout. He didn't roar. He whispered two words with casualness. Though those words carried more than just casualness, those words were a sign that carried the weight of finality.
"Whisper, Kagegari."
The change was instantaneous and profound.
The air didn't explode with power; it condensed. The world seemed to grow dimmer, as if the light itself was fleeing from the blade in his hand. His standard Zanpakutō shortened, its steel transforming into a sliver of absolute, matte blackness that seemed to swallow the moon. A waning crescent guard formed at its hilt, and from its edge, a faint, mist-like trail of shadows whispered into existence, coiling around the blade like a living thing.
But the true change was in the Reiatsu.
An immense, silent wave of Reiatsu erupted from Akio, so dense and cold it felt like the air had turned to ice water. It was a predatory pressure, ancient and patient, that seized the lungs and stilled the heart. It wasn't a raging inferno; it was the absolute zero of the void, the crushing silence of the deepest abyss.
The Hino heir, cowering behind a broken lamppost, let out a choked whimper, his eyes wide with a terror far beyond what the assassins had inspired. This was something else entirely.
The three assassins froze. Their professional composure shattered for a single, crucial second.
The one with the lightning-spear, Raijūken, took an involuntary step back. "No... that's impossible..." he rasped, his voice barely audible over the hum of his own weapon. "He has..... unlocked..... Shikai...?"
The one with the venomous gauntlet, Dokugumo, hissed through his mask. "The Lord's intelligence said nothing of this! This level of Reiatsu... it's far more for just a Shikai, !"
The one with, Jinpūken, said nothing, but the grip on his blade tightened until his knuckles were white. Their task, was to fight a brat from Rukongai who hasn't unlocked Shikai yet. And even if some variables were to occur they were expected to take care of them, as they were 3 skilled assassins who have also unlocked their Shikai. But this, this was something they were not prepared for.
Seeing their reaction, Akio just smiled faintly and said, " Surprise, surprise."
After saying that, Akio murmured, "Position Play."
He flicked his wrist. A wisp of shadow, invisible to all but him, shot from the misty trail of Kagegari and adhered to the ground near Dokugumo's feet.
Then, Akio moved. It felt a burst of Shunpo, but it wasn't.
Akio vanished.
He reappeared instantly, standing on the shadow mark he had just placed. He was now behind Dokugumo. His black blade sliced downward in a silent arc.
"Behind you!" Jinpūken roared, his own blade slashing through the air. An invisible blade of compressed air, sharp enough to cut a building in half, shot toward Akio's back.
Akio didn't turn. He didn't need to. His Shadow Network felt the distortion in the air, the violent parting of the spiritual particles. He willed himself to another point—a mark he'd placed on a piece of shattered railing.
He vanished again. Jinpūken's air blade tore through the space he'd occupied, forcing Dokugumo to throw himself aside to avoid being bisected by his own ally.
Akio reappeared by the railing. "You see?" his voice echoed, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "You're not fighting me. You're fighting the battlefield itself."
He was toying with them. He was a ghost, a phantom of absolute black. He would appear, force them to attack, and then vanish before their blows could land, often causing them to strike at each other. He used their numbers against them, herding them with his teleports, using their own power and panic as his weapons.
He could have killed them. A teleport behind one, a quick thrust of Kagegari through the spine, and it would be over. But every time he tried, another was there, deflecting, forcing him to block or teleport away. They were too well-trained, their teamwork too ingrained. They protected each other with desperate, flawless synergy. They couldn't touch him, but they could just barely prevent him from landing a killing blow.
It was a maddening, terrifying stalemate. For them.
Across the bridge, Hiro could only watch the spectacle in stunned, horrified awe. The unseated officer whom he had underestimated from the start, was fighting three released Zanpakutō users to a standstill, and he was doing it with an ease that was utterly chilling. And here he was unable to move after batting with one assassin.
The fourth assassin, the illusion-user, saw it too. He saw his comrades being systematically dismantled by a foe they couldn't comprehend. So, he made a decision. Hiro was a finished product, bleeding and broken. He decided to ignore Hiro and leave him to die from blood loss and help his comrades as the real threat and target was the shadow-wielding monster.
While Akio was materializing from a teleport, deflecting a lightning spear with a minimal twist of Kagegari, the illusion-user acted. He dashed to Akio's position head on and clashed with Akio.
Akio met by the sudden attack parred the attack but also saw the Zanpakuto in the process which is the condition for the Zanpakto's illusion being activated on someone. The illusion would affect the vision and hearing.
After the clash ended there were—
No flashy light, no obvious sign. But to Akio's eyes, the world fractured. A perfect, seamless illusion superimposed over reality. He saw Jinpūken lunging at him from the front, a desperate, furious attack. His Shadow Network, however, screamed a different truth. It felt the true, silent assassin coalescing from the shadows behind him, his plain blade aimed with silent perfection at the base of Akio's skull.
It was a flawless trap. The illusion was meant to capture the eyes and the ear. The real attack was meant for the kill.
A normal fighter would have reacted to the illusion. They would have parried the frontal assault that didn't exist, leaving their back exposed to the true death blow.
Akio didn't have just eyes. He also had something very special.
And he trusted the data. He trusted the shadows.
As the real assassin thrust his blade, Akio didn't turn. He didn't parry the illusion. He dropped into a low crouch, the assassin's sword passing through the space where his neck had been. At the exact same moment, his leg swept out in a vicious arc, hooking the assassin's ankle.
The assassin's eyes, wide with shock behind his mask, had just enough time to register that his 'perfect' illusion had failed utterly before Akio's foot hooked his leg and yanked him off his feet. He crashed to the ground hard, his breath exploding from his lungs.
Akio rose smoothly, standing over the stunned illusion-user. He looked down at him, and slicing Kagegari swiftly through his neck, killing him instantly.
He then looked over at the other three assassins, who had frozen once more, their plan in ruins with one of their member being killed mercilessly.
"The heart of combat isn't observation with your eyes or hearing with your ears," Akio stated, his voice colder than the night air. "It's knowing which senses to trust."
He raised Kagegari, its void-black blade pointing at the other three assassins left..
"Your tricks are spent. Now, let's end this."