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Shiraha had limited himself to only thirty times gravity for two reasons. First, because he feared that unleashing the full forty-five times gravity would result in a catastrophic area of effect. Second, he intended to reserve part of his true strength, keeping it hidden for the moment he would challenge a seated captain.

Too destructive? Wasn't that last demonstration already his Zanpakutō's limit?

That question surfaced silently among the captains. Several glanced at one another, their eyes returning to Shiraha with subtle unease. They hadn't expected such overwhelming power from one so recently graduated.

"Too destructive?" Yamamoto Genryūsai's stern voice broke the tension. The old man looked down from his elevated seat, striking his staff against the ground with resounding finality. "Do not hold back. The old man gives you permission—show your full strength."

The thirtyfold gravity Shiraha had just released had covered only the First Division's dojo. The damage, though immense, was still contained within a few kilometers. Yamamoto assumed Shiraha's true limit was simply an increase in intensity or coverage—nothing more.

"Thank you, Head-Captain. Then I'll proceed without restraint."

Shiraha offered a faint, calm smile. Since Yamamoto had demanded full strength, there was no more point in holding back.

The captains gathered around, expressions guarded but curious, wondering just how far Shiraha's Zanpakutō could go.

"Forty-five times gravity."

The words fell quietly from Shiraha's lips, but the shift was immediate and apocalyptic. A weight beyond anything felt before erupted outward from his body. The overwhelming force expanded like a dome, covering a full radius of one hundred thousand meters.

The entire First Division complex was swallowed beneath that pressure.

"Boom—Boom—Boom!"

Buildings buckled, their supports crumbling beneath the impossible weight. Walls collapsed into dust. Towers cracked from their base and fell like dominoes. Within seconds, the First Division's entire team building was reduced to nothing but a ruinous plain.

Under Shiraha's gravity, the stone ground spiderwebbed with deep fractures. Vast chasms opened like the jaws of the earth. The devastation wasn't isolated—the nearby structures adjacent to the First Division began to break apart as well, their frames unable to withstand the crushing force pressing down on them.

Had Shiraha extended that pressure to the unseated members inside the building, they would've been flattened into spiritual ash on the spot. Not even an Adjuchas-class Menos Grande could withstand such force for long, let alone ordinary Shinigami.

But Shiraha had used Observation Haki before stepping foot into the dojo. He had mapped out every soul's position within range. The forty-five times gravity he released was targeted only at the ruined team building and the captains within it.

"Buzz—"

Emergency sirens began to scream across all of Seireitei, their wails echoing across the white stone city. Even Yamamoto and the other captains were trapped inside the expanding force field.

One by one, captains began to flare their Reiatsu. Massive currents of spiritual pressure erupted from beneath the rubble, streaks of color lancing up into the sky as they fought to resist Shiraha's gravity.

Only Yamamoto remained seemingly unshaken. While the others looked strained, his aged form barely shifted. The other captains, even those seasoned in combat, were visibly burdened.

Before, under thirty times gravity, they had been able to joke, speak, and maintain composure. But forty-five? Without activating Bankai, it pushed them to their limits. The atmosphere itself seemed to sag under the weight.

"Ha—Ha—HA!" Zaraki Kenpachi's manic laughter split through the pressure. His eyes gleamed with savage joy as he felt the intense gravity press against his bones. "That's it! That's the pressure! That's the power I felt—your real strength, Shiraha!"

Kenpachi's wounds split open again, blood seeping out in thick rivulets and soaking into the bandages that wrapped his body. The pressure alone was enough to rip his skin apart. Still, his grin widened.

With a blast of golden Reiatsu, the bleeding slowed. His energy flared to seal the worst of the damage, but even he was straining.

Komamura Sajin and Kurotsuchi Mayuri fared worse.

They hadn't even fully recovered from the earlier surge, and now, their feet were sunk deep into the stone ground. The weight had driven them halfway into the earth. Their limbs trembled with effort as they released their Reiatsu just to stay standing.

More than one captain turned to Shiraha, eyes filled with restrained shock. His Zanpakutō ability had gone far beyond expectation.

"Kuchiki Third Seat, that's enough. Withdraw your Zanpakutō's ability."

Yamamoto Genryūsai had flared his spiritual pressure long ago, a beacon of crushing force in his own right. He remained composed even beneath the gravity's full might. His voice cut clean through the chaos.

Shiraha nodded with a smile and returned the stick-blade to its sheath. The moment he did, the suffocating pressure lifted. One by one, the captains felt their weight vanish, the burden slipping off their shoulders like a mountain disintegrating.

The air lightened. The world returned to balance.

Yamamoto looked down at Shiraha, his eyes unreadable. "The gravity manipulation you just used—was that your Zanpakutō's Shikai? Have you already mastered Bankai?"

Shikai marked the threshold of captain-level strength. To reach Bankai was rare. For someone Shiraha's age, unheard of.

If he had already achieved Bankai, it would explain the devastating power he'd just displayed—even the lack of a vocal release phrase. Yamamoto's words drew every gaze in the ruined arena. They all wanted the same answer.

Could this new Third Seat, barely out of the academy, already surpass a generation?

Was he a second Tōshirō Hitsugaya… or worse, someone who eclipsed even that?

Shiraha shook his head, still smiling. "You're mistaken, Captain. I haven't even unlocked Shikai—let alone Bankai. That was simply my Zanpakutō's base ability."

"What?" Yamamoto's voice trembled—not with fear, but something close to awe. His eyes, which had not shifted in expression for decades, suddenly widened.

The silence among the captains was deafening.

The devastation they had just endured, the scale of power that had crushed their buildings and overwhelmed their defenses—wasn't even Shikai?

If Shiraha was telling the truth—and none of them could detect a lie—then the implications were clear.

If this was only the sealed state of his Zanpakutō… what would happen when he unlocked Shikai?

What if he achieved Bankai?

Could his potential reach the level of Ryūjin Jakka?

Could he, like Yamamoto himself, one day wield an ability that could reduce the entire Soul Society to cinders?

No one spoke, but the weight of the moment sank in.

Kuchiki Shiraha might possess the ability… to destroy Soul Society itself.

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