"You're right."

"A battle between Shinigami isn't about size."

"It's about Reiatsu."

Aiyan stood calmly upon the bridge of Susanoo's brows, looking down at Muguruma Kensei's disbelieving expression.

"And with your level of Bankai..."

"My Susanoo is more than enough to offset it."

Boom—!

Suddenly, a golden hand appeared beside Muguruma Kensei.

Before he could even react with Shunpo, a massive palm—gentle as a swatting motion, like chasing off a fly—brushed against his side.

BOOM!

A burst of explosive wind erupted in the sky. Muguruma Kensei was launched like a cannonball from a height of over a hundred meters, his body smashing into the ground below and kicking up a towering column of dust.

"Kensei!"

Seeing this, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō could no longer allow Aiyan to approach Kensei.

He had never intended to kill Aiyan—only to stall him, to give Sarugaki Hiyori and the others a chance to escape.

But now, those intentions no longer mattered.

If Aiyan took even one more step forward, not only would the rescue of Hikifune Kirio become impossible—

No one here would leave Soul Society alive.

"Forgive me, Aiyan."

"It was never my wish to kill you."

"But if blame must fall somewhere… it's because you are too strong."

A thousand thoughts flashed through Rōjūrō's mind in an instant, finally hardening into resolve.

He raised his baton once more.

And with one final sweep—

His third Bankai began.

"Ein Heldenleben."

As the baton fell, a mournful and majestic melody began to play. In the sky, a hundred meters above the battlefield, a troupe of golden dancers appeared out of thin air. Their movements were slow and solemn, as if dancing not for battle—but for the end.

They circled around Susanoo's head… around Aiyan.

Seconds passed.

The music ended.

The dancers vanished.

And Susanoo—just steps away from Muguruma Kensei—suddenly came to a halt.

"I… I killed Aiyan."

"The hero who destroyed Soul Society."

"Is this… the fate foretold by my third Program?"

Even as Susanoo stilled, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō felt no joy.

His Bankai had three acts.

The First Program – Sea Drift. A trap.

The Second Program – Prometheus. A devastating assault.

The Third Program – Ein Heldenleben. The moment the music ends… death follows. Those who hear the melody perish, their spiritual forms dissolved beyond resistance—even if reduced to photons, they cannot escape the rules of this performance.

He never wanted to use the third Program on Aiyan, a fellow Gotei captain—a hero in his own right.

But he had no choice.

On one side stood a comrade and benefactor—Hikifune Kirio.

On the other hand… stood a man too powerful to be left unchecked.

Clang—

Suddenly, Susanoo stirred.

It reached for the hilt at its waist.

With a smooth motion, the golden blade—broad as a mountain—was drawn.

There was no sun in the sky, but the moment it left the sheath, golden light poured forth. The radiant blade casts its glow directly over Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō's body.

"...What?"

Rōjūrō looked up instinctively.

And there, far above, Aiyan stood—very much alive.

Gazing down at him… with pity.

In the next instant, Susanoo swung.

BOOM!

The slash dropped like divine judgment.

The earth cracked open beneath its weight, as if a dragon buried in the mountains had suddenly turned over.

The slash carved a massive gorge across the land, a bottomless ravine stretching for thousands of meters—a canyon born in an instant, splitting the forested mountains of Seireitei.

"Why…? Why!?"

At the far edge of the canyon, Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō lay slumped across a blood-soaked ridge. His captain's haori was torn to shreds. Blood poured from countless wounds, staining the earth beneath him.

He wasn't dead—but barely clinging to life.

His trembling lips moved.

His dim eyes flickered with disbelief.

He didn't understand.

He had played all three programs. The final program—Ein Heldenleben—should have ended it.

It was a rule-type ability, unresisted by even the breakdown of the physical body.

And yet—

Aiyan still stood.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Kill me?"

"Your childish Bankai… couldn't even pierce the armor of my completed Susanoo."

Aiyan's voice wasn't loud.

Yet somehow it traveled across the thousand-meter gorge, landing in Rōjūrō's ears like a final judgment.

Boom—

Rōjūrō's body trembled. His bloodied face contorted in disbelief… and then, in bitter self-mockery.

Eyes dull, he finally allowed them to close.

And fainted.

"Rōjūrō!"

Far in the distance, Muguruma Kensei, who had just climbed out of the crater left by Susanoo's earlier slap, turned to see the canyon carved across Seireitei—

And the crumpled figure lying at its far edge.

Boom—

Golden light flashed again.

Another sword strike tore across the sky, a golden slash that split the heavens like silk. The atmosphere itself parted, rippling to either side like water.

A second canyon was carved into the land.

"AAAH!"

At the end of it—

Muguruma Kensei, just like Rōjūrō, lay limp and broken, blood pouring from his mouth.

He still clung to consciousness… just long enough to scream.

Then—

Darkness.

"Tch."

"Didn't even take a minute."

Aiyan turned away from the unconscious Kensei, voice cold.

Clang.

Susanoo returned the golden blade to its scabbard.

And then, like mist dissipating in the dawn, the golden Martial God—towering and divine—vanished from the mountain peak without a sound.

Were it not for the shattered terrain, the twin canyons, and the broken bodies of two captains lying motionless… one might have believed Susanoo had never appeared at all.

Those who watched—Byakuya Kuchiki, Zaraki Kenpachi, and the others—finally emerged from their stupor.

They looked as if they had awoken from a dream.

Because to them—it had all felt unreal.

After all, Susanoo had taken only two swings of its blade.

Two moves.

Yet those two moves had carved two canyons into the land of Seireitei—

And buried two captain-level Shinigami.

First—Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō, Captain of the Third Division.

Second—Muguruma Kensei, Captain of the Ninth Division.

"Just… Kidō?"

"He defeated three captains using Bankai… with just a single technique?"

"No wonder…"

"No wonder, back then…"

From nearby, Unohana Yachiru spoke softly, recalling a moment from the battle between Aiyan and Tomioka, Soul Society's most renowned Kidō master.

"Since you're using Kidō #99," Aiyan had said back then, "I won't take advantage of you. I'll match you—spell for spell."

Had Aiyan used his own Kidō—Susanoo—instead of the standardized #99 from the Academy…

That battle would have ended in a single swing.

In that sense, unleashing the Goryūtenmetsu had already been a show of mercy—a gift of dignity for Tomioka.

"Rōjūrō."

"Kensei..."

…

Elsewhere on the battlefield—

Sarugaki Hiyori, Kuna Mashiro, and Yadōmaru Lisa were just rising to their feet after being scattered by Hachigen's earlier attack.

The moment they regained spiritual awareness, they sensed it—

The familiar Reiatsu of their comrades… fading.

Fading fast.

Then—gone.

The captain-level spiritual pressures that once burned like beacons were now indistinguishable from the dust.

All three women stood frozen.

There was no time to cry.

Before grief could take shape, a voice pierced their ears.

"Will you hand over Hikifune Kirio and Shutara Senjumaru to me?"

They turned.

From the peak of the sky, Aiyan descended slowly.

One step at a time.

His figure is like a falling sun.

Yadōmaru Lisa, Kuna Mashiro, and Sarugaki Hiyori—

All three felt their blood run cold.

Their limbs froze.

As if they had fallen straight into an ice-bound hell.

...

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