A suffocating pressure filled the air. The surge of Reiatsu was so immense that even breathing became a struggle.
At last, all attention returned to the two figures standing at the heart of that storm.
The moment Aizen's Reiatsu flared, cold dread crept through every soul present. Even Yamamoto Genryūsai's aged eyes narrowed sharply, the lines of his face deepening in wary astonishment.
The oppressive might that rolled off Aizen was beyond anything the Captain-Commander had felt in centuries. He, who had long stood atop Soul Society, had witnessed countless storms of spiritual power, but never one that stirred even a trace of fear within him—until now.
And yet, Aizen himself felt a faint tremor of apprehension. That, more than anything, revealed how terrifying he had become.
Facing him, the young man's expression remained calm, untouched by the roaring air currents and the violent waves of power that split the atmosphere apart.
The world seemed to tremble between them as their opposing Reiatsu continued to rise, climbing to new heights that made the air hum.
Aizen's faint smile carried arrogance and ease, his tone low and mocking. "Seeing you like this… I must admit, it's surprising."
His eyes glimmered as he looked across at Su Li. "I remember another white-haired boy once tried to stand before me. I released a mere fraction of my Reiatsu, and he couldn't even move. Tell me, how long can you last?"
The words dripped with condescension, the tone of a god addressing a child.
Tōshirō gritted his teeth, fury and humiliation flashing across his face. "Damn it… this guy…"
Boom.
The air itself cracked as another surge of Reiatsu erupted between them. Color drained from every face in the distance.
Su Li's voice broke through the storm, faint and steady. "You seem… very confident in your Reiatsu."
Aizen's pupils contracted sharply. He turned, but the voice no longer came from where Su Li had stood. It was behind him.
His movements stiffened, and slowly he looked over his shoulder—only to meet those same calm, silver eyes staring into his own.
A murmur of disbelief spread among the onlookers.
Two Su Lis stood on the battlefield.
One remained in his previous position, still enveloped in light. The other was now behind Aizen, silent and composed.
"No… that's an afterimage!" Kyoraku Shunsui shouted suddenly.
The first Su Li shimmered and vanished under the sun's glare. Gasps rippled through the ranks.
In dim light, an afterimage was understandable. But in full daylight—under blazing sunlight—such speed defied comprehension.
It could only mean one thing. Su Li's movement had already reached a level approaching the absolute. His speed had surpassed light's reaction itself.
"So fast…" Shihōin Yoruichi whispered, her throat tight. Even the self-proclaimed Flash Goddess was shaken.
The memory of their past encounters rose in her mind like a bitter sting. She clenched her jaw and silently vowed that anyone who dared call her "Flash Goddess" again would not live to repeat it.
High above the battlefield, Su Li hovered in midair, looking down at Aizen with eyes stripped of emotion.
"Tell me," he said softly, "are you truly confident in your Reiatsu?"
For the briefest instant, confusion flickered in Aizen's gaze. Then something immense descended upon him.
A weightless force pressed down—a domination so complete that words could not define it. It was not simply spiritual pressure; it was sovereignty made tangible.
Invisible. Colorless. Yet vast enough to blot out heaven and earth.
The ground cracked as the aura fell, sweeping over the entire battlefield.
Aizen's heart thundered in his chest, his knees trembling under the weight. Around them, the assembled Captains and lieutenants collapsed one by one with a resounding plop of knees striking stone.
Only Yamamoto Genryūsai and Unohana Retsu still resisted.
Yamamoto's cane dug into the ground, its tip half-buried as he leaned heavily upon it, sweat tracing the edge of his jaw.
Unohana's fingers tightened around her Zanpakutō, the steel groaning faintly under her grip. Her knees hovered a breath above the ground. Her lips pressed together, refusing surrender—but her gaze, locked on Su Li, flickered with something she had never felt before.
No man had ever made her falter. Yet this boy—this calm, radiant figure above them—nearly did.
Only a single strand of pride kept her from bowing.
"Oh… my god… what is this?" Omaeda wailed from where he lay sprawled, hands over his head, trembling like a leaf in a storm.
Sui-Feng was on the ground as well, her eyes wide with awe and disbelief. In her vision, Su Li was no longer the gentle young man she knew. He had become a sovereign presence—an emperor whose gaze could split mountains and swallow rivers.
She had never realized when that warmth had transformed into something so utterly divine.
Kyoraku Shunsui struggled to raise his head, his body pinned by the crushing force. "That Reiatsu… that's my junior brother's? No wonder he never used it. It's too much… even standing feels impossible…"
His laughter cracked under strain.
Across from him, Urahara Kisuke was already kneeling in full prostration, his palm pressed flat to the ground, eyes wide in analytical confusion.
"This pressure feels like Reiatsu, but… something's wrong. It isn't quite that…" His breath trembled. "It's… something higher."
He couldn't define it. All he could do was endure it.
The field had fallen silent. None dared raise their gaze. Even Yamamoto's flame-like Reiatsu flickered beneath the overwhelming tide.
They could no longer look upon Su Li directly. They could only stare at the ground beneath his feet, as though their very souls forbade them to meet his eyes.
Aizen, too, fought the pull with trembling legs, trying to resist. His knees buckled inch by inch, anger burning in his chest as unwillingness twisted across his face.
He knew this was not Reiatsu. He could feel it clearly.
This pressure was not spiritual energy. It was something altogether different—something deeper, rawer, more absolute. A force born not of spirit, but of will.
He recognized it instinctively, though he had never felt it before.
A power that could only belong to a ruler.
Aizen tried to lift his head in defiance, but his body refused to obey.
Su Li's gaze remained calm, impassive. The aura surrounding him pulsed once more, and the air vibrated like a struck chord.
This was not Reiatsu. This was Haki.
Conqueror's Haki—an invisible will that transcended form and essence, possessed only by those born to rule. In other worlds, it was said only true kings possessed such power.
Ordinary Haki could crush the weak-minded. But in Su Li's hands, having attained the unity of mind and will, it had become something far greater—an imperial aura that could humble even the proudest souls.
Aizen's resistance shattered. His knees struck the ground with a sharp, echoing clack.
For all his grandeur, all his self-proclaimed divinity, he now knelt like a defeated general before his emperor.
Su Li descended, his expression unreadable. Slowly, he placed his hand atop Aizen's bowed head, as though granting judgment.
"Under heaven, is there any land not the king's domain?" His voice rang out, clear and calm. "And upon this earth, are there any not the king's subjects?"
The words carried across the battlefield, woven with power, reverberating like divine decree.
He looked down at the man before him, his tone almost gentle.
"Now tell me," he said quietly. "Are you still confident in yourself?"
The words were soft—almost tender—but they cut through Aizen's heart like an executioner's blade.
A chill ran through the fallen god, sinking into his bones as the crushing weight of true sovereignty pressed him down.
And for the first time, Aizen Sōsuke understood what it meant to kneel.
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