In an instant, everything flipped—up, down, front, back, left, right. The entire world in Aizen's vision inverted.
Naraku, who had been standing on the floor, was now somehow "above" him, looking down with a strange expression.
The world… inverted?!
Aizen's expression tightened, but he didn't move recklessly. He held his posture and forced himself to adapt as quickly as possible.
"This is—"
"Shinji Hirako's Zanpakutō ability?"
"Shinji Hirako?"
Aizen looked over in confusion—only to find empty air.
Everything he saw was reversed.
"Your captain's Zanpakutō is called Sakanade," Naraku explained bluntly. "The moment it releases Shikai, it gives off a lot of mist. Anyone who smells the fragrance gets their visual nervous system hijacked."
"Everything you see flips—front and back, left and right, up and down. Even where you feel you're injured gets flipped."
"It looks like the scented mist is doing it, but the truth is: the instant you smell it, Sakanade's ability has already activated."
Even in all of Soul Society, Sakanade was a distinctive blade.
Shikai for fighting strong enemies, Bankai for clearing mobs.
And because its Bankai was too absurd, the Central 46 had forbidden Hirako from releasing his Zanpakutō within Seireitei.
Even if the restriction was "lifted," it still wasn't allowed.
Hearing that, Aizen narrowed his eyes and felt he'd found the reason Hirako treated him differently.
So it was because their Zanpakutō belonged to similar "systems"?
"Then what is Shinji Hirako doing—why the hell would he release his Zanpakutō inside the barracks? And judging by this, the affected range is huge," Naraku muttered.
After only a few attempts, Naraku adapted to the inverted world right under Aizen's surprised gaze.
"Looks flashy, but once you get used to it, it's fine."
Naraku's growth potential—over 100% beyond a normal Shinigami—gave him near-perfect bodily control.
Of course, that didn't mean Naraku had "solved" Sakanade's Shikai.
In real combat, it was still terrifying.
Activation and cancellation were entirely at Hirako's whim. One second you adjust to inversion, the next second it snaps back to normal.
A slash that should go forward suddenly goes backward.
To everyone else, the attack path looks unchanged—but to the victim, it's completely different.
A normal person can't react in time.
Even someone as gifted as Naraku needs a few seconds to adjust—let alone anyone else.
Aizen quickly adapted as well, and the two of them burst out of the dōjō.
Only then did they see the barracks had descended into complete chaos.
It looked like a city caught in war: violent booms and flames rose from the ground, and the floor trembled.
Between erupting fire and sweeping gales, buildings wailed under brutal destruction.
Smoke was everywhere. Kidō Reiatsu filled corridors and courtyards. The earlier peace was gone, replaced by absolute disorder.
Before they could even react, a low tearing sound struck from the right rear.
A warped figure appeared in the corridor, blood-red eyes locked on Naraku. Greed was almost tangible, spilling out of it.
Seated-officer–level Reiatsu surged from the creature, and a long blade gleaming coldly formed in its hand.
It lunged at Naraku without hesitation.
The bright edge looked vicious in the firelight. The Reiatsu gathered on it radiated oppressive force, faintly shimmering like flowing phosphorescence.
In an instant, it was already within striking distance.
A sharp metallic clang rang out—followed by a burst of dazzling sparks that stabbed at the eardrums of nearby fighters.
Then they crossed.
In the briefest moment—before Aizen could even register it—Naraku had completed a sword exchange with an unknown entity whose identity, even species, was unclear.
The long blade fell in half with a clang.
A silent cut appeared at the warped figure's throat. Residual heat sank into the bone, carrying a "real" sensation of decapitation.
The creature's eyes widened in disbelief.
Naraku slowly turned. His lowered gaze met the falling head's eyes, and his calm voice followed:
"You're not bad."
And thus, "recognized," the warped thing died satisfied.
Aizen: "...…"
With things this dire, that idiot still had time to act deranged.
"By the way—what is this, some kind of 'intruder' invasion?" Naraku rested a hand on his hilt and looked into the distance.
Beyond their section, other areas were also burning. More monsters like the one just now were chasing Fifth Division Shinigami and cutting them down like they had blood feuds.
"The Reiatsu nature is similar, the attack methods are similar, even their forms share similarities," Aizen analyzed coolly, then concluded, "Doesn't look like outside enemies. Looks like an internal problem."
"Sora… the Zanpakutō have rebelled."
As he spoke, a golden pillar of Reiatsu exploded down the main road, pressure spreading across the entire barracks.
At the far end, two figures stood facing each other.
Naraku recognized one immediately: Fifth Division Captain Shinji Hirako, the man who constantly targeted Aizen.
It was also his Shikai that had reached the dōjō and alerted them.
Opposite Hirako was someone identical in face—like carved from the same mold.
The only difference was sex.
Even from far away, the stunning scale of her chest was impossible to miss.
Normally Hirako might have had time to "judge," but in an emergency like this, he couldn't afford a moment's distraction.
"Hey—this isn't the time to mess around!"
The blonde woman's lips lifted. "Mess around?"
"Even with the flames spreading, you still think this is a game, baldy?"
Her pale hand turned upward. In the bloom of light, an unusual blade appeared—its pommel ending in a hollow ring—hanging from her slender index finger.
"I've wanted to smack your smug face for a long time."
"So accept this tiny bit of 'concern.'"
Hirako's face changed instantly. He amplified his voice with Kidō, thunder rolling across the barracks and into everyone's ears:
"Everyone—leave the barracks area immediately!"
On the blonde woman's identical face, a triumphant grin appeared—like a prank succeeding perfectly.
Her lips parted. Release chant.
"Bankai."
"Sakashima Yokoshima Happōfusagari!"
In radiant Reiatsu light, the blonde woman's body seemed to twist, flipping upside down from head to toe. Solemn golden petals bloomed upward from below, wrapping her completely.
Pale violet glimmers dotted the air. A hazy mist spread out and in an instant expanded to fill the entire barracks.
Hirako covered his face and sighed helplessly.
"Now it's really bad—"
Naraku frowned as the mist wrapped around him.
If he remembered correctly, Hirako's Shikai inverted visual direction.
But his Bankai inverted recognition—specifically flipping "enemy and ally."
Under that power, both sides would start killing each other.
In a daze, Shinigami still fighting their own Zanpakutō suddenly turned and attacked the people beside them.
Powerful Kidō slammed into teammates. Naraku's eyelid twitched.
He was one of the few here who knew what Hirako's Bankai did, so even though his perception changed, he could stay calm.
In Naraku's view, Shinigami who had looked vaguely familiar now warped into indescribable monsters, as vicious as wild-growing Hollows.
Right then, a sharp blade-light drew a silver arc. Heavy Reiatsu rose along the edge—
And with a slash, the air ripped like cloth as the strike went straight for Naraku's head.
Clang!
The collision rang out, and the reflected blade-light showed Aizen's confused eyes.
This "feel" of the strike… was oddly familiar?
Sora had said Hirako's Shikai inverted directional awareness. From the urgency in Hirako's voice, his Bankai must be even more dangerous—otherwise he wouldn't be ordering an evacuation.
So it followed that Bankai likely altered cognition at a deeper level.
"Sora?" Aizen tested, staring at the savage humanoid Menos in front of him.
"You won't even call me—"
Before the sentence finished, Aizen expressionlessly cut down again, brute force blasting the figure away.
A moment later Naraku returned, clicking his tongue at Aizen—now wearing a bone mask.
Even his Reiatsu and appearance had changed drastically.
If Naraku didn't know Hirako's Bankai in advance, he might truly have mistaken Aizen for an enemy.
"Let's deal with the mess first," Aizen said darkly. "We can't let them keep slaughtering each other."
"Agreed."
Once they memorized each other's "look," they charged into the most chaotic areas.
A blood-red streak shot in like a meteor, crashing into the battlefield. Naraku swept his gaze, lips curling into a vicious grin.
"Breaking your bones is better than losing your life."
He rolled his shoulders—firecracker snaps sounded from his joints—and his Reiatsu surged out.
Raise. Clench. Wrap. Punch.
A terrifying move completed in one breath, beyond what the naked eye could track, detonating suffocating impact from several meters away.
A storm-wind erupted, Shinigami flung backward uncontrollably.
Against Shinigami who weren't even seated-officer level, there was no need for fancy moves.
Like a mad dump truck, Naraku plowed through the battlefield, using the most violent means to erase one slaughter after another.
At the same time, Aizen finished his own fight and rushed over.
Across the barracks, there were only broken walls and rubble—Shinigami and Zanpakutō battles had been brutally fierce.
"The strongest two are probably the captain and his Zanpakutō," Aizen said expressionlessly, looking down the main road, where the crushing Reiatsu nearly made breathing difficult.
Hirako and Sakanade were in the middle of a full-blown clash.
"What do we do—help?" Aizen asked. "If we enter, we might be treated as enemies and attacked."
Naraku raised a brow and grinned.
"No problem. I'll beat them both the same."
He didn't know what exactly caused all this, but Hirako without his Zanpakutō and Sakanade fighting alone both meant their power was split in two.
They were weaker than normal.
And since the two wouldn't attack the same target simultaneously, Naraku was confident.
Scorching Reiatsu rose into a pillar, heat sweeping like magma erupting. The entire main road filled with suffocating temperature.
He drew his sword.
Circuit-like patterns lit up faintly on his hands.
"Hadō #73: Sōren Sōkatsui!"
Brilliant blue flames surged up, swallowing the pale blade in an instant, then cleaving forward like a meteor crashing down with a boom!
Countless reishi collided and interwove, forming an all-cutting sword-pressure edge that shot straight into Hirako and Sakanade's battlefield—
Engulfing everything.
The delayed explosion finally hit, spreading and silencing all other sounds.
The entire barracks fell quiet.
Two figures were blown backward in opposite directions. The shockwave toppled nearby buildings, dust billowing skyward.
Under Sakanade's horrified stare, a feral grin appeared in front of her, a Reiatsu-wrapped blade lifting high—
And coming down without negotiation.
Secret Technique: Dragon Flash!
In the roar, the panicked Sakanade raised her arms, long blade in hand, trying to block—
And only at the moment of contact did she realize how ridiculous that was.
Power crashed down like the sky collapsing. The ground under her feet caved in; spiderweb cracks exploded outward like a meteor strike.
Watching, Hirako's mouth twitched.
Since when did his division have someone this violently insane?
In the swirling dust, a figure walked out. Cold eyes fixed on the last standing opponent, lips curling into a savage grin.
"Your turn."
Hirako: "..."
~~~
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