On the outskirts of Senbonzakurō Kageyoshi's manifested domain, Hitsugaya Tōshirō and Komamura Sajin arrived, joining Kurotsuchi Mayuri to assess the situation.
"What did you say? That Akira doesn't even possess a Bankai—yet he fought Captain Kuchiki like this?"
Tōshirō and Komamura exchanged incredulous glances upon hearing Mayuri's report. The idea of someone matching a captain's Bankai without using one themselves was nearly unheard of. The last time such a feat had occurred was during Zaraki Kenpachi's infamous battle with Ichigo Kurosaki—though even then, it came at great cost.
BOOM!
Before their shock could settle, a thunderous explosion tore through the heart of the domain. A brilliant golden light pierced the sky, illuminating the battlefield like a divine proclamation. As the cataclysmic force receded, the space collapsed inward—like a punctured veil—revealing the two combatants at its core: Akira, standing firm and unwavering, and Byakuya Kuchiki, his usually serene expression twisted by frustration.
The assembled captains had rarely—if ever—seen Byakuya so visibly shaken. The heir of the Kuchiki clan, famed for his icy composure and flawless technique, now bore an expression of sheer disbelief. Despite Akira lacking a Bankai, Byakuya had been forced entirely onto the defensive, unable to so much as make him flinch.
Every technique Byakuya had unleashed—each a testament to decades of mastery—had been rendered useless, appearing as mere flourishes before Akira's overwhelming might.
To Akira, it was all just empty spectacle—beautiful, but ultimately futile.
"This… is unbelievable," Komamura muttered, his voice thick with both awe and unease. As one who valued raw power above all, he recognized what he was witnessing: no intricate dance of petals, no tactical genius—just one thing.
One strike. One absolute, unstoppable slash.
Pure, unrelenting force that shattered everything in its path.
"It seems…" Byakuya exhaled slowly, his breath uneven, "...if I am to defeat you, I have no choice but to unleash my final technique."
Blood seeped from wounds inflicted by Akira's relentless assault, yet his resolve remained unbroken. He had one last resort.
"Senkei."
In an instant, the drifting petals of Senbonzakurō ceased their elegant ballet and converged upon Byakuya's blade. He channeled every ounce of his reiatsu into his sword, which now blazed with an ethereal white radiance. Behind him, luminous wings of spiritual energy unfurled—a manifestation few captains had ever witnessed.
Among the Gotei 13, this technique was reserved for moments of absolute necessity. Its destructive potential was so immense that even Tōshirō and Komamura instinctively tensed.
"No… Kuchiki… is he really using that?" Tōshirō murmured, eyes wide. "To resort to White Emperor Sword means he truly sees Akira as a threat beyond reckoning."
But just as Byakuya's power peaked, a second surge of spiritual pressure erupted—this one even more overwhelming.
From Akira.
"Gather with the breath of the stars in the sky, the torrent of brilliant life—"
His voice rang out, resonant and commanding. His blade pulsed with golden light as its true name began to awaken. This was no ordinary Shikai.
This was a true release—a strike meant to sever not just flesh or steel, but fate itself.
"Tōshirō," Komamura said urgently, "we must reinforce the barriers. If those two clash unchecked—"
Tōshirō didn't hesitate. Together, they wove layers of kidō and reiatsu barriers around the battlefield. Left uncontained, the shockwave from this collision could level half of Seireitei.
"Excalibur—!"
Akira brought his sword down without hesitation.
A golden arc of light—vast, blinding, and absolute—sliced through the heavens themselves. It descended like divine judgment, crashing into Byakuya's White Emperor Sword in a cataclysmic explosion that shook the very foundations of Soul Society.
BOOM—!!!
The explosion of power erupted outward, consuming everything within the barrier in an instant. Its radiance was blinding—even the surrounding captains had to shield their eyes.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the barrier, fracturing under the strain. The two captains reinforcing it gritted their teeth, channeling every ounce of their reiatsu into containment—but the destruction outpaced their efforts.
Boom!
The barrier shattered.
A searing blast of energy burst forth—but thanks to the barrier's gradual weakening, the surrounding Seireitei was spared total devastation. The same could not be said for Byakuya Kuchiki, who had absorbed the full brunt of the assault.
Silence fell.
All eyes locked onto the clearing smoke.
There—standing unscathed amidst the ruins—was Akira.
Opposite him, Byakuya lay broken. His haori hung in tatters, blood trailing from his lips. He tried—once, twice—to rise, but his body would not obey. His strength was gone.
"Do you admit defeat?" Akira's voice was calm, unwavering. The holy sword in his hand began to glow again, drawing reiatsu from the air like a storm gathering on the horizon. "Surrender now… or I will strike again."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
He can still fight? After that?!
"What… was that technique?" Tōshirō Hitsugaya muttered, eyes narrowed. "Was that the Fifth Sword already? His reiatsu—does it have no limit?"
Even Byakuya, heir to the Kuchiki name, felt the cold weight of despair. He could sense it—Akira hadn't even broken a sweat. Yet pride coiled tight in his chest, forbidding him from yielding.
Then—
"Enough."
A presence descended—not with sound, but with silence. An immense reiatsu, ancient and absolute, pressed down like the weight of a dying star. The air grew thick; even the captains struggled to breathe.
From the haze stepped Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13.
"Stand down, Akira," he commanded—his voice quiet, yet final.
"The outcome is clear," Yamamoto declared. "You have bested Byakuya Kuchiki, former captain of the Sixth Division. By right of combat—and by my authority—you are hereby appointed the new Captain of the Sixth Division."
No one objected. The verdict was irrefutable.
"The Gotei 13 will not waste a warrior of your caliber in pointless bloodshed," Yamamoto added. "This duel ends here."
Relief settled over the onlookers. The Gotei 13 had not lost a captain—it had gained one.
But then—
"Wait!"
A figure dropped from the sky like a meteor, landing with a shockwave that sent dust spiraling outward.
His grin was feral. His single visible eye burned with unrestrained hunger.
He pointed at Akira and roared, voice thick with exhilaration:
"That reiatsu—was that you?!"
"I'm Zaraki Kenpachi," he growled, hand already on his zanpakutō. "Now fight me!"