Kenpachi Zaraki grinned savagely, baring his teeth.
"Interesting. You want my name? Then come and take it! If you can cut me down, I don't care if it's the title of Kenpachi or my captain's seat—I'll hand it over to you!"
Aoyama raised a brow, his expression defiant.
"Why would I want something you 'give' me? I only want two things—either to cut you down myself, or be cut down by you."
The group of trainee Shinigami, too afraid to step forward yet still desperate to graduate, was left utterly stunned. Their eyes went wide as they stared in disbelief.
"No way… Aoyama actually dared to say that? That's Kenpachi—the title carried by the Captain of Squad 11!"
"Exactly! Each generation of Kenpachi only earns the name after defeating the previous holder in battle. Only then do they have the right to become Captain of Squad 11! Every Kenpachi is an absolute monster—easily one of the top five fighters in all the Gotei 13. Even if Aoyama has mastered his Zanpakutō's Shikai, he shouldn't provoke Captain Zaraki! He'll be killed outright—nobody can withstand his sword pressure!"
"Aoyama's too arrogant. This isn't just sparring with upperclassmen anymore. Sure, Squad 11's rules are all about fighting, but challenging the captain himself? That's suicide! I've never heard of anyone walking away alive after challenging Kenpachi!"
But for Kenpachi Zaraki, being provoked was the greatest source of joy. It thrilled him more than cutting down Hollows—especially since the one provoking him wasn't even a proper Shinigami, barely more than a student.
His grin widened, and a terrifying wave of spiritual pressure exploded outward like crashing tides. The surge was so overwhelming that even the Gillian-class Menos, trying to tear open space and descend into the human world, faltered. In an instant, the Garganta they had been forming slammed shut.
No one paid attention to the retreating Hollows. Every eye was instead fixed on the overwhelming clash of wills before them. The reinforcements from Soul Society—Shinigami of all ranks—were caught between awe and dread. Even without facing Kenpachi's reiatsu directly, just standing on the sidelines was enough to shake their souls. His pressure was an apocalypse given form.
Facing him head-on was like undergoing baptism by fire. It was like stepping into the Hunter x Hunter world, being blasted with nen for the first time by a master.
Yet despite the crushing weight, Aoyama didn't even flinch. His face remained calm, eyes gleaming with defiance, Zanpakutō itching to strike.
He was ready to swing at any moment—ready to die if he had to. With Kongō at his side, he was confident he wouldn't truly perish. Testing the limits was worth the risk.
Perched on Kongō's shoulders, the pink-haired girl Yachiru Kusajishi tilted her head in surprise, tugging lightly on Kongō's fur.
"Wow! Monkey, your master's amazing! He didn't crumble under Yachan's pressure at all. I bet Yachan's super excited right now. This is awesome!"
Kongō let out a few howls, half in response, half in complaint. But against Yachiru, his struggles were useless. No matter how much raw strength he had, it was nothing in front of a monster who could match vice-captain-level combatants barehanded. For now, he had no choice but to suffer as her unwilling mount.
Meanwhile—
Aizen Sōsuke, feigning exhaustion, panted heavily as he staggered under the aftermath of a crimson Cero blast. His body crashed into a building, reducing it to rubble, where he lay seemingly battered and broken. From his vantage, he watched silently as Gillian after Gillian emerged from the rift in space, stepping out into the human world in an orderly line.
Elsewhere, inside a decrepit warehouse, a small group of exiles stared grimly up at the widening Garganta through cracks in the roof. They had once suffered under Aizen's schemes, forced to flee Soul Society and live in hiding.
Shinji Hirako narrowed his eyes.
"I'm telling you, Aizen's faking it. That guy's power is monstrous. The idea that a few Hollows could push him this far? I don't buy it for a second."
Smack!
A slipper smacked him on the back of the head.
"Baldy, stop talking crap!" snarled Hiyori Sarugaki, who had leapt up just to hit him. She waved the slipper menacingly. "Aizen's clearly plotting something. You'd better use that empty head of yours and figure out what it is—or we'll just rot here forever!"
The others fell silent, their faces grim. None of them doubted Aizen's cunning. Destroying the world? No. That wasn't his style. Every seemingly insignificant move he made was likely part of some vast, hidden plan—digging pits for enemies to fall into, twisting events toward his design.
Aizen Sōsuke had no interest in something as crude as annihilation.
To defeat him, they first needed to understand him.
So the Visoreds chose to remain in hiding. For now, they watched and waited.
Back on the battlefield, Aizen's glasses glinted faintly as he rose from the rubble, murmuring under his breath, his voice calm despite his feigned exhaustion.
"As expected… this won't work. It seems I'll have to shift the direction of my experiments. If those subjects can't yield results, then I'll just need to create more… and find better material."
Meanwhile, the Menos began to retreat. With perfect discipline, they filed back through the Garganta, ignoring the Shinigami who tried to pursue. Not a single Hollow lingered—they withdrew without hesitation.
The city, however, had already suffered devastating damage. Entire districts lay in ruins, casualties mounting, and no one spared a thought for the innocent lives destroyed in the crossfire.
Even so, the orderly withdrawal of the Hollows baffled the Shinigami. Normally, Hollows would fight until slaughtered. This level of organization was unthinkable. But with the Garganta closing, the Soul Reapers dared not follow. The Hollow world was their domain—entering it meant only two outcomes: corruption into a Hollow… or death at their hands.
Tōsen Kaname appeared at Aizen's side, supporting him as though he were spent.
"The Hollows are retreating. It seems this wasn't an invasion, but merely a probe. A test of our defenses."
Aizen forced a bitter smile.
"At least we held the line. Otherwise, this city would already be a Hollow paradise. Ah… It's my fault. If only I were stronger, I could have slain them all before they crossed over. Then none of this destruction would have happened."
—
Back in Soul Society, at the Technology Development Bureau, crystal monitors replayed every moment. The two captains' exchange was carefully recorded, providing a convenient explanation: the Hollows' appearance had been a test, nothing more.
Even Head-Captain Yamamoto, after reviewing the evidence, found the conclusion reasonable.
After all, if Hueco Mundo truly intended to invade the living world, they wouldn't have withdrawn so easily. A true invasion would have sent their strongest champions, overwhelming the defenses. No—the Hollows had merely tested the waters, and having learned what they wanted, they returned to their domain.
The only victims were the innocent humans of a city nearly wiped from existence.