Jerome was so stunned that he found himself at a complete loss for words. The realization hit him like a hammer—his opponent hadn't even been serious until now.
Uehara Shiroha spoke leisurely, his voice calm yet laced with unmistakable disdain.
"Do you really think that you qualify as Vasto Lorde Arrancar just because you've been granted a fragment of their power?
"And your Arrancar abilities… they're utterly pathetic."
He shook his head, his eyes filled with something akin to disappointment.
"You've forgotten your origins, the very process of how you became Hollows, one step at a time. The reason the Attack Titan is so strong is simple—it consumes well. It devoured its own father to gain its power. So, if you want to evolve, I suggest you do the same—eat your father, Szayelaporro."
His words were like a venomous whisper in the wind, but they carried the weight of an undeniable truth.
"Only by doing so will you have a chance to become a true Vasto Lorde-class Hollow and earn the right to stand against me."
At that moment, as Uehara Shiroha clashed with Jerome, he uncovered the secret behind these so-called "Vasto Lorder-class Hollows." The truth was far less grand than the title implied.
These Hollows were nothing more than Adjuchas forcibly injected with Void Hollow spiritual pressure, undergoing an incomplete Arrancar transformation. That was why their strength barely amounted to this level.
In the desolate expanse of Hueco Mundo's barren desert, the Arrancars who stood alongside Jerome were struck speechless by Uehara Shiroha's revelation. Their expressions darkened as the harsh truth settled in.
Jerome's voice trembled with disbelief. "H-How did you know?!"
For so long, they had believed the illusion. Gaining the power of the Vasto Lorde-class Hollows had convinced them that they had ascended beyond their limits—that they had become Vasto Lorde. And once they took on Arrancar forms, that belief solidified even further.
With their newfound strength and intelligence, what else could they be but Vasto Lorde?
But Uehara Shiroha scoffed, his gaze piercing through their delusions.
"It's one thing to deceive others, but don't deceive yourselves."
His cold, detached tone sent an unsettling chill through them. To him, they were nothing more than meat laid out on a butcher's block, waiting to be carved apart.
In ordinary circumstances, he wouldn't need more than three strikes to end one of them. If he fought seriously, he could wipe them all out in an instant.
Of course, despite their fraudulent origins, these Hollows still possessed considerable power—certainly stronger than an average Soul Reaper captain. Even so, that didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.
After all, Soul Society's captains were not so easily dismissed. Even in the Thousand-Year Blood War, seasoned veterans and ancient captains played critical roles. While ordinary captains struggled against pseudo-Spirit King-level threats, they could still hold their ground against lesser foes, at least long enough to make a difference.
Yet, against him? Against Uehara Shiroha, these Hollow imposters were little more than gnats before a storm.
And he knew it.
As he continued to regard them with that same detached expression, the Arrancars couldn't shake the creeping unease curling at the edges of their minds.
Why?
Why did this Soul Reaper—this supposed enemy—feel more like a Hollow than they did?
Just as the weight of that thought began to press on them, Uehara Shiroha vanished.
"Cyril, be careful!"
Leo barely caught sight of Uehara's blurred figure before he shouted the warning, but it was already too late.
The air trembled as an overwhelming spiritual pressure surged like a raging tidal wave, crashing down upon Cyril with unstoppable force.
Uehara Shiroha, armed with his omnipotent barrier, could afford to discard all defense when engaging in close combat. Every strike he delivered carried twice the usual impact, making each blow devastating.
Even a high-ranking captain would struggle to endure such an onslaught.
For Cyril, caught directly in the attack, the experience was akin to being dragged into the abyssal depths of the ocean. His senses blurred, drowning in chaos, and his vision darkened.
Instinctively, he raised his massive golden hammer in an attempt to shield himself—
"Boom!"
A deafening explosion shook the battlefield as Uehara Shiroha's fist connected, driving Cyril backward. Without hesitation, Uehara's left hand morphed into a blade, descending with terrifying precision.
The force of his strike was so immense that the resulting shockwave cleaved through the air, launching Leo from mid-air before he even had a chance to react.
Rodney and Jerome could do nothing but watch, their bodies too sluggish to keep up.
Above them, Uehara Shiroha's figure flickered in and out of existence, appearing and disappearing like a phantom in the sky. With every landing, he struck his enemies like a dragonfly skimming the surface of a pond, his attacks relentless.
His entire body was attuned to combat, his spiritual pressure refined into raw, unfiltered destruction.
Jerome, sensing imminent doom, roared and unleashed the full force of his destructive power in a desperate attempt to shield himself.
Rodney, too, scrambled to activate a defensive technique, summoning all the strength he could muster.
But it was meaningless.
Uehara Shiroha's assault was simply too fast, too overwhelming, too brutal.
Despite the protective steel-like skin they possessed as Hollows, their defenses crumbled beneath the sheer might of his strikes.
In mere moments, Cyril and Rodney were sent hurtling through the air, their bodies plummeting into the endless quicksand below.
Leo, the strongest among them, was barely able to remain standing, half-kneeling on the ground as he struggled to recover from the previous blow. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body refusing to move as intended.
The expressions on the faces of the four Arrancars were identical—pure horror.
How was this even possible?
Uehara Shiroha's power exceeded their worst fears. Every time they thought they had witnessed the full extent of his strength, he proved them wrong again and again.
At that moment, Leo made a decision.
"Don't hold back! Go all out! We must kill him now! "
There was no room for hesitation. Up until now, Uehara Shiroha hadn't even revealed his Zanpakutō. If they allowed this to continue any longer, they would die without even forcing him to unsheathe his true power.
If the four of them had any chance of survival, they had to attack together with everything they had.
Hearing his command, Cyril and Rodney immediately unleashed their full abilities.
Cyril, his body already towering at three meters in height, began to grow even larger, his massive golden hammer expanding along with him.
Under the immense surge of spiritual pressure, Cyril's body began to expand at an alarming rate. His once-massive frame swelled even larger, transforming him into a towering giant. His sheer size alone was enough to blot out the cold moonlight hanging over Hueco Mundo's endless desert.
With a deafening roar, he lifted his colossal, millstone-sized hammer high above his head, the force behind his movement causing the air to tremble. Then, like a mountain crashing down from the heavens, he swung it toward Uehara Shiroha with devastating force.
His bellow reverberated across Hueco Mundo, a feral, primal sound that sent waves of spiritual pressure rolling across the battlefield. Each of his movements carried overwhelming power, seemingly endless in might and fury.
"Die!"
Uehara Shiroha barely glanced up at the descending hammer before his figure flickered out of sight. The next instant, he reappeared in midair and drove his foot straight into Cyril's chest.
Cyril's hammer slammed into the ground with a resounding crash, missing its target entirely. The sheer impact of the blow sent tremors rippling through the desert. Frustration flared in the giant's eyes as he let out a thunderous roar.
"ROAR!"
His voice was a bestial snarl, raw and untamed. In that moment, his mind seemed to abandon all rationality. Enraged by his missed attack, he swung his massive left hand—large enough to resemble a fan—to grab Uehara Shiroha, intending to crush him in his grip.
However, before his muscles could fully tense, Uehara's foot had already landed on his chest.
The instant contact was made, Cyril's massive form suddenly froze, as if an invisible force had slammed into him.
And then—
BOOM!
A cataclysmic shockwave erupted from the point of impact, sending a powerful hurricane of force in all directions.
Cyril's massive, hill-like body was launched backward like a ragdoll, flung into the air as if he weighed nothing at all. He crashed into the desert floor, his body carving a deep trench in the sand as he skidded violently. A massive crater formed beneath him, the sand blasted away by the sheer force of his landing.
Uehara Shiroha wasted no time. In a single flicker of movement, he appeared beside the crater. Before Cyril could even groan in pain—
BAM!
Uehara's fist slammed into his skull with crushing force.
Cyril's massive body convulsed, then went completely still. His consciousness slipped away, and in the next instant—
He was out.
One down.
Uehara Shiroha barely gave the fallen Arrancar another glance before vanishing once more, reappearing midair with Rodney locked in his sights.
At this moment, Rodney had already completed the preparations for his ultimate attack.
A sinister grin curled his lips as he lifted his Zanpakutō. In the next moment, his blade dissolved into countless flaming arrows, each one pulsating with lethal energy.
"Burn in hell!" Rodney sneered as he released his technique.
A rain of fire filled the sky.
Each flaming arrow was sharp enough to melt through steel with ease. The overwhelming heat distorted the air itself, and the sheer number of projectiles turned the battlefield into a blazing inferno.
This was Rodney's most terrifying ability. Even an experienced Vasto Lorde would struggle to escape unscathed.
Rodney's grin widened as he pictured Uehara writhing in agony, his body pierced by thousands of flames before being reduced to ash.
"This is it! This is what true power looks like!" he thought, feeling exhilaration course through him.
But then—
Something was wrong.
Amidst the fiery storm, Uehara Shiroha's figure flickered.
He wasn't burning.
He wasn't struggling.
Instead, he was… dodging.
One by one, the flaming arrows missed their mark.
Rodney's eyes widened in absolute disbelief.
Uehara Shiroha's movements defied logic. With each step, he twisted his body just enough to let an arrow brush past harmlessly. The high-speed projectiles that should have been inescapable now seemed laughably slow.
To him, they weren't deadly flames.
They were merely drifting embers.
From the outside, it appeared as though time itself had frozen around him. His movements were so precise, so fluid, that not a single arrow could so much as graze his robes.
Not one.
His posture remained elegant, his breathing relaxed.
Nothing had changed.
He was untouched.
Watching from a distance, Jerome and Leo could only stare in horror.
"This is… impossible!"
They had fought countless battles, witnessed Rodney's ultimate technique annihilate enemy after enemy. At the very least, it should have inflicted some damage.
But this—this was beyond anything they had ever seen.
Rodney, the one who had been grinning moments ago, now stood frozen in place, his mind failing to process what had just happened.
Then—his vision blurred.
A cold sensation spread across his chest.
His body flew backward.
Uehara Shiroha had already moved.
Before Rodney could react, Uehara finished him off midair.
By the time he crashed into the sand, he was done.
Three down.
When Uehara landed back on the battlefield, his gaze turned toward the last two standing enemies—Leo and Jerome.
His eyes were cold.
"I'm getting bored. If you have any last tricks, use them now."
Hearing those words, Jerome's face turned pale. His mind screamed a single thought—
"I have to get out of here!"
Without hesitation, he turned and ran.
"Monster! We can't beat him!" he shrieked, fear warping his voice.
Leo, who had been closely observing Uehara's movements, shouted out in panic, "Jerome, watch out!"
SHING!
A flash of white light streaked across the battlefield.
Jerome staggered.
Then, he collapsed into the sand.
A long slash wound stretched across his chest, blood staining the golden dunes beneath him.
Lying there, he gazed at the crescent moon in the sky, feeling the warmth seep from his body. As his life force drained away, the world around him suddenly felt distant—both familiar and utterly alien at the same time.
Four down.
Now, only Leo remained.
Standing alone amidst the fallen bodies of his comrades, Leo gasped for breath, his eyes filled with sheer despair.
He looked at them—Cyril, Rodney, Jerome—all of them defeated so effortlessly.
How had it come to this?
Once, they had believed themselves invincible.
After gaining their Arrancar powers, they had felt unstoppable. They had been confident—arrogant even.
But now—
They had been reduced to nothing more than prey.
Blood dripped from his shoulder.
His left arm lay severed on the ground.
Leo swallowed, his throat dry as sand.
"That speed… Those two slashes…"
The first had cut down Jerome.
The second had come straight for him—and had nearly ended his life.
But at the last moment, his battle instincts had saved him. He had dodged, barely.
And the price was his left arm.
Uehara Shiroha regarded him with an indifferent gaze.
"As expected, you're the strongest among them. Your reaction was impressive."
Leo forced out a weak chuckle.
"I appreciate the compliment, but… if you had targeted me first, I'd already be dead."
Before today, he had believed he and his comrades were on par with Vasto Lordes—perhaps even superior.
Is the gap so huge?
Jerome never had the chance to realize the truth—even an ordinary Vasto Lorde wouldn't have lasted a second against Uehara Shiroha.
At this moment, Uehara Shiroha stood calm and composed, his grip firm around his weapon. He was ready to end it once and for all.
However, just as he was about to deliver the finishing blow, his expression shifted slightly.
A disturbance in space.
His sharp senses immediately detected something unusual—a sudden and dramatic fluctuation in the void.
"Coordinate positioning? Space displacement?" he mused, his brow furrowing slightly.
Above them, the sky split apart, and from the yawning black cavity, dozens of grotesque, long-nosed Gillians emerged, each one bearing the eerie resemblance of twisted clowns.
Without hesitation, the Gillians began chanting in eerie synchronization, launching an anti-membrane technique at the fallen Arrancars below.
In a blinding flash, four golden beams of light shot down from the cavity, piercing through space itself and enveloping the unconscious Cyril, Rodney, and Jerome along with the injured Leo.
In the blink of an eye, the golden beams whisked them away, teleporting them into the black cavity above before Uehara Shiroha could strike them down.
Inside the golden passageway of the anti-membrane, Leo, though still weak from his injuries, clenched his only remaining fist, his expression shifting from despair to relief and gratitude.
"Thank you for saving my life, Lord Szayelaporro!" he gasped, his voice trembling with emotion. "I, Leo, will forever pledge my loyalty to you!"
At that moment, everything clicked in Uehara Shiroha's mind.
He immediately understood Aizen's plan.
The first goal was to test Uehara himself—to see whether he intended to interfere in Hueco Mundo's affairs and to gauge whether he was an independent variable like Ōtsutsuki Naruto.
The second goal was to assess the experimental Arrancars, evaluating whether infusing them with Vasto Lorde-class Hollow spiritual pressure was a viable path forward.
The third goal… was to see whether Uehara Shiroha could affect the anti-membrane.
Aizen was thorough—if the anti-membrane was to serve as an unshakable escape mechanism, it had to be foolproof.
And yet, knowing Aizen, there were likely even more layers to this test.
A fourth or even a fifth hidden purpose buried within his grand chessboard of schemes.
But Uehara Shiroha didn't care.
Aizen could play his thousand-layer strategy game all he wanted—it wouldn't change the absolute truth of battle.
"As long as my strength is overwhelming, no amount of calculations or scheming will matter!"
It was time to show the true power of Shunkyō.
In an instant, the world itself trembled.
Uehara Shiroha released a titanic wave of spiritual pressure, and it erupted outward like a tsunami, shaking the very fabric of Hueco Mundo.
Nearby, countless lesser Hollows and Adjuchas fled in sheer terror, scattering like insects in the face of the immense power.
A massive pillar of golden light shot into the sky, its brilliance outshining even the crescent moon hanging above Hueco Mundo.
"It's useless, Shinigami!"
From within the golden passageway, Leo sneered. Despite his injuries, he managed a defiant smirk as he stared at Uehara from beyond the anti-membrane.
"You are powerful, there's no doubt about that. But no matter how strong you are, you cannot reach us!"
His confidence stemmed from one undeniable fact—the anti-membrane's protection was absolute.
Throughout the history of the Arrancars, the anti-membrane had never failed.
It had always been a perfect failsafe, a tool that guaranteed survival.
Uehara Shiroha knew that better than anyone.
Yet, instead of reacting with frustration, he merely smiled.
"I know."
His voice was calm, almost casual.
"The moment the anti-membrane was activated, you were no longer in this space. Right now, you exist only as an afterimage, a ripple in an alternate dimension, moving at high speed."
Leo's eyes widened in shock.
"You… You knew?!"
His voice trembled slightly. If Uehara was aware of how the anti-membrane functioned, then why was he still wasting energy trying to reach them?
But Uehara Shiroha ignored him.
Instead, he lifted Shunkyō, his grip tightening around its hilt.
He poured his immense spiritual pressure into the blade, and in response, Shunkyō shuddered, as if eager—hungry—to be unleashed.
A slow smirk spread across Uehara's lips.
"Soberano, you can't wait any longer, can you?"
His voice carried both confidence and dominance as he raised the sword high.
"Then come forth and rule the world."
"Bankai— Shunkyō Jikūsen [Fleeting Void, Spiraling Space-Time]!"
BOOM!
A blinding golden explosion tore through the battlefield.
The world itself shifted.
The sky and the earth merged into one, dissolving all boundaries.
A limitless void surrounded them—an infinite plane of nothingness where only Uehara Shiroha and the four captured Arrancars remained.
Even time and space themselves seemed to lose their meaning here.
The only thing that existed within this realm was Shunkyō's spiritual pressure—an overwhelming, absolute force of control.
Suddenly, the void shuddered—
And from above, countless golden gears materialized, forming massive walls that began descending at an astonishing speed.
Before Leo could react—
The golden gears pierced through his and his companions' bodies.
Leo's breath caught in his throat. A phantom pain spread through him.
Panic surged in his chest. Had they been killed instantly?!
He clenched his jaw, instinctively channeling his spiritual pressure to defend himself—
Only to realize something horrifying.
The gears weren't real.
They were phantoms—illusions without physical form.
And yet…
The moment they passed through his body, something felt wrong.
Then—
"Five seconds." Uehara Shiroha's calm voice echoed in the infinite space.
The moment those words left his lips, the golden gears began to rotate—
Counterclockwise.
Five revolutions.
Leo's heart pounded violently in his chest.
A deep, gnawing dread crept into his bones as an ominous realization sank in.
"What… What did you just do?!"
His voice shook.
"Is this your Bankai?! What do these gears represent?!"
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