Under normal circumstances, Szayelaporro Granz would never have been injured so easily.
His blade was sharp, his attacks precise, and his regenerative ability made him an opponent who could afford to take damage in exchange for an advantage.
But this was different.
His slash—one that should have dealt devastating damage—had done nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
As a Super Vasto Lorde, he had spent thousands of years perfecting his craft, accumulating vast amounts of experience and refining his abilities to near perfection.
Yet in this battle, everything that should have worked failed.
Szayelaporro's combat strategy relied on his Hierro (iron skin) and super-speed regeneration, allowing him to fight recklessly and endure blows that would kill lesser beings.
But none of that mattered here.
Uehara Shiroha's universal barrier was on an entirely different level—bordering on perfection. In comparison, the renowned Hierro of the Vasto Lordes was nothing more than child's play.
On top of that, Uehara Shiroha possessed a terrifying ability—the power to foresee the future.
Every attack. Every movement. Every change in spiritual pressure.
All of it was predicted in advance, allowing him to fortify his defense before the attack even landed.
With these two abilities combined, it was no wonder he had taken Szayelaporro's full-strength slash without a scratch.
In truth, if Uehara Shiroha had wanted to end this fight from the beginning, he could have.
Whether through his perfect-level stand, his Shunkō Bankai, or the overwhelming force of the Mind Stone, he could have crushed Szayelaporro in an instant.
But he didn't.
Because he wanted to test something.
He wanted to become even more familiar with the abilities in his hand.
And Szayelaporro… was the perfect test subject.
However, by this point, Szayelaporro himself had realized the danger he was in.
He could feel it—he was losing.
Panic flickered in his golden eyes.
He had to act. Now.
Clenching his teeth, he unleashed his full spiritual pressure, causing the very air around him to tremble.
A massive pillar of crimson energy erupted from his body, surging toward the sky.
The force of his reiatsu distorted the space around him, warping reality itself.
But this time—
Uehara Shiroha was done holding back.
"Perfect White Album—Activate."
The moment those words left his lips, an invisible power flooded the battlefield.
It was a chilling force, silent yet absolute.
The temperature dropped instantly.
Ice began creeping across the ground, freezing everything in its path.
Zero degrees.
Minus ten degrees.
Minus forty degrees.
And it only kept falling.
Szayelaporro gritted his teeth as his body trembled uncontrollably.
Even as he pushed his spiritual pressure to the limit, trying to resist—
It wasn't enough.
His body, his reiatsu, even his very soul—
All of it was freezing.
"Impossible!"
Fear crept into Szayelaporro's voice.
His stiffening face twisted in a mixture of shock and horror.
"How…? How could a mere Shinigami possess such power?!"
He struggled to move, but the cold was relentless, creeping into his bones like an unavoidable curse.
His mind raced with desperate thoughts.
"What kind of ability is this?! Why can't I resist it with my spiritual pressure?!"
His body transformation had made him resistant to spiritual pressure attacks—he was sure of it. That was why, even earlier in the battle, he had taken hits without suffering real damage.
But this… this wasn't normal.
This power did not contain spiritual pressure—it was something else entirely.
Szayelaporro's teeth clenched.
"This isn't a Shinigami's ability!"
His mind refused to accept it.
"This defies logic! I don't understand! I won't accept it! My skills are perfect! My knowledge is supreme!"
And yet… none of it mattered.
His perfect calculations had failed.
His perfect predictions had failed.
His perfect adaptability had failed.
Uehara Shiroha exhaled slowly, watching the scene before him unfold.
His expression remained calm—completely unfazed.
Then—
He took a single step forward.
The moment his foot touched the frozen ground, the ice surged forward, swallowing Szayelaporro whole.
A massive block of ice formed instantly, sealing the Espada inside.
The battlefield fell into silence.
Szayelaporro Granz—one of the top combatants of Hueco Mundo—was now nothing more than a frozen statue.
Yet, despite everything, he wasn't dead.
Even in his frozen state, his powerful vitality and super-speed regeneration allowed him to cling to life.
As expected of a top-level Hollow—his resilience was terrifying.
Uehara Shiroha smirked.
"Let's see how long you can last."
Meanwhile—
Inside the ice, Szayelaporro was at a crossroads.
His consciousness was flickering, his thoughts growing sluggish.
He had two options.
Activate his preset life-saving trump card.
Fight to the death.
He hesitated for only a moment before making his choice.
Clenching his teeth, he activated a black, strange substance hidden within his body.
Immediately, the substance spread out—
And space itself began to twist.
Uehara Shiroha narrowed his eyes as he sensed the disturbance.
Then—
He moved.
Without hesitation, he leapt backward, retreating to a safe distance.
A second later—
A pure black, coffin-like barrier materialized around Szayelaporro.
It was absolute.
It completely sealed him inside, isolating him from the outside world.
The air grew heavy.
The spiritual pressure in the area shifted unnaturally.
Uehara Shiroha's gaze darkened.
He recognized this power instantly.
"Anti-Membrane of Negation." [Caja Negación]
This strange black barrier was a special substance developed by Aizen himself—an improved version of the anti-membrane, capable of sealing spirits into another space entirely.
Its original purpose?
Executing disobedient subordinates.
It was an ability so powerful that even Aizen and, in the distant future, Yhwach himself would find it troublesome to deal with.
In the past, Grimmjow had used this very technique to seal Ulquiorra, buying himself a chance to fight Kurosaki Ichigo.
And now, Szayelaporro was using it to escape.
Uehara Shiroha smirked.
"Oh? You're running?"
However, he was in no hurry to act.
Instead, he closed his eyes and released his perception ability.
His spiritual awareness expanded—
And to his amusement, he realized something.
Inside the Anti-Membrane of Negation, there was a violent spatial reaction.
A second layer of spatial distortion.
And possibly—
A third.
Uehara Shiroha raised an eyebrow.
"Well now… it looks like we have a nesting doll situation."
Three layers of insurance.
Three different escape mechanisms.
Szayelaporro Granz had activated them all at once.
How terrified of death was this man?
His actions made one thing abundantly clear—Uehara Shiroha's Bankai had truly instilled fear into his heart.
Uehara Shiroha chuckled to himself as he watched the Anti-Membrane of Negation fade from sight.
"What an unnecessary amount of precautions," he mused.
Yet, despite everything, he made no attempt to stop the retreating Espada.
Why?
Because Szayelaporro was insignificant.
He wasn't worth the effort of revealing more trump cards.
Moreover, with the state he was in now—his body riddled with injuries, his spirit energy in shambles—Szayelaporro would be useless even if he survived.
Uehara Shiroha's gaze flickered toward the retreating darkness of the Anti-Membrane of Negation.
Through layers of dimensions and space, his eyes pierced straight through the barrier.
And at that very moment—deep within the void of his forced retreat—Szayelaporro felt it.
His golden irises trembled.
A chill, different from the ice that had nearly frozen him, ran down his spine.
It was a feeling he had never experienced before.
It was fear.
Within the darkness, Szayelaporro clenched his fists. Reluctance. Shock. Anger. Even terror. All of it swirled in his mind.
The key to true power had been right before his eyes.
He had glimpsed it, reached for it—and yet he had been forced to flee.
Such humiliation. Such disgrace.
He would never forget this.
One day… one day, he would return and take revenge.
Deep within his consciousness, Yylfordt's mocking laughter echoed.
"Tch, what's the point of acting tough now?"
His voice dripped with disdain.
"If you were so ruthless, why didn't you use your remaining strength to fight? You should've made a final stand, given it everything you had!"
His tone sharpened.
"But instead, you ran like a coward. What a joke."
Yylfordt's voice carried a venomous sneer.
"Szayelaporro, I have no brother like you. I'd rather cut ties with you completely!"
"Shut up!" Szayelaporro snapped, his voice cold.
His eyes burned with frustration.
"You're too extreme, Yylfordt. You always were."
Yylfordt wanted to fight to the death, but Szayelaporro wasn't an idiot.
He still had a path forward.
This wasn't the end.
His mind calmed, his thoughts regaining their sharpness.
"If I must cut something away, it won't be myself—it will be you."
If he could perfect the power of 'Conception Notification', he would never be dragged down by his foolish brother again.
He would be perfect.
His gaze darkened as he clenched his fist.
"Besides, I had no choice."
Uehara Shiroha's power was monstrous.
His sword strikes were devastating. His freezing abilities were too unnatural.
And his body…
Szayelaporro grimaced. Even now, his body was in tatters.
If he hadn't possessed his unique regenerative structure, he would already be dead.
Even so, his injuries were severe.
Recovery would take time.
Weakening himself was inevitable.
Being expelled from the Espada was inevitable.
But… he would return.
One day, he would return stronger than ever.
As the darkness of the Anti-Membrane of Negation sealed around him, his golden irises glowed with cold resolve.
"Uehara Shiroha…"
"I will never forget this."
Back in the ruined palace, Uehara Shiroha shook his head.
A Super Vasto Lorde?
Nothing special.
No wonder Aizen abandoned the Espada in the end.
Despite all the time and effort spent cultivating the Ten Blades, the truth was painfully clear—
They weren't strong enough.
Hueco Mundo… simply wasn't enough.
Uehara Shiroha's thoughts drifted.
In the world of Bleach, Hollows were like wandering spirits—souls rejected by the natural order.
They were beings that existed outside the balance of the world.
And at the core of that balance stood the Soul King—the embodiment of the world's will.
His very existence prevented the world from being consumed by Hollows.
This was why Hollows would never reach the same heights as the Shinigami or Quincy.
They had no divine blessing.
They had no true civilization.
They had no system of cultivation.
Even if an Arrancar broke through their limitations and gained rationality, their raw combat power was still inferior.
That's why Hueco Mundo was always a land of the dead.
It was a graveyard—a battlefield that was conquered and massacred time and time again.
The Shinigami slaughtered them.
The Quincy slaughtered them.
And in the end—they were nothing but prey.
No wonder even Aizen himself was forced to abandon them.
His evolution through Hollowfication had only made him more grotesque—less of a god, and more of a monster.
By the end of his transformation, he had lost his prestige, his beauty, his dignity.
And in the end—he was crushed beneath the heel of Kurosaki Ichigo.
Ironically, during the Thousand-Year Blood War, Aizen—who had abandoned the Espada—performed far better.
Why?
Because he was more like a human than a Hollow.
And in the end, Hollows would never be enough.
Uehara Shiroha's eyes gleamed.
"The Hōgyoku… should belong to me."
A storm had shaken the land of Hollows.
A single Shinigami had wiped out three Espadas.
Hueco Mundo trembled.
Even the remaining Espada were shaken.
The few Vasto Lordes that remained silent—
Their gazes darkened.
They had never seen power like this.
In the distance, in the ruins of Hueco Mundo…
A lone figure gazed at the moon.
Coyote Starrk.
His lazy eyes flickered with thought.
"That guy seems pretty strong."
Beside him, a petite yet sharp-eyed girl clicked her tongue in irritation.
"What are you even saying, Starrk?!" Lilynette snapped. "That guy isn't like us! He'll never be our ally!" Her tone hardened. "You have no companions except me. So forget it."
Starrk sighed. "Is that so?" He sounded… disappointed.
Elsewhere, in the darkness—
The former King of Hueco Mundo, Barragan Louisenbairn, sat in his crumbling throne.
His ancient, withered eyes gleamed with rage.
"A Shinigami… acting so freely in my domain?!"
His spiritual pressure flared violently.
"Has Hueco Mundo truly fallen so far?!"
In the shadows, Harribel frowned.
She gazed at the ruined palace, her heart uneasy.
"Hueco Mundo will never find peace, will it…?"
The world without sacrifice that Aizen spoke of… was it even real?
Meanwhile, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck stretched, yawning.
"Eh, whatever. He's strong, but it's got nothing to do with me."
She smirked, dusting off her hands.
"I'll just stay out of his way."
Then, she promptly went back to eating, sleeping, and playing.
Under the golden moonlight, Uehara Shiroha turned his gaze toward Kyōraku Palace.
Even from a distance, he could see its massive outline.
And in that moment—
A pair of eyes… from within the palace… met his own.
In the depths of Las Noches, within the grand Palace of the Night, Aizen Sōsuke sat upon his throne, his expression unreadable.
His sharp eyes gazed into the distance, locked onto the lingering remnants of battle.
Even without direct sight, his spiritual perception told him everything he needed to know—
The battle was over.
Two Espada and a Super Vasto Lorde had challenged Uehara Shiroha.
And they had lost.
Aizen's lips curled slightly.
"Less than a hundred years… and he already possesses such strength."
"How… interesting."
Beside him, Tōsen Kaname remained silent, his brows furrowed in deep thought.
Ichimaru Gin, on the other hand, had his usual fox-like smile—yet his narrowed eyes betrayed a rare moment of solemnity.
Neither of them had expected this.
They had always known Uehara Shiroha was strong.
But before this, their understanding of his strength was vague—
A formidable genius, but nothing beyond their expectations.
After all, the opponents he had faced before weren't true threats.
Whether it was Valdez or Jerome's Arrancar, they were disposable. Any Captain-class Shinigami could have killed them using their trump cards.
So they had assumed Uehara Shiroha was simply a prodigy—
A powerful talent, but still within reason.
But now—
Everything had changed.
Szayelaporro Granz, despite being an arrogant, pink-haired four-eyed scientist, had been a true powerhouse.
He was the Zero Espada, a title granted only to the strongest.
His combat ability was undeniable.
And yet—he had been completely and utterly crushed.
To defeat such an opponent, Uehara Shiroha had undoubtedly stepped into the realm of the true top-tier powerhouses.
Gin let out a low whistle, his tone deceptively light.
"Well now… this is getting outta hand, huh?"
Tōsen frowned deeper.
"A Shinigami of less than a hundred years reaching such strength… It's unnatural."
Gin chuckled. "Calling him a 'genius' ain't enough anymore."
His smirk widened, but his voice dropped into something almost serious.
"A monster like that shouldn't be taken lightly."
Just as the words left his lips—
A black rift tore through the air.
A Garganta had appeared, spilling out a broken, bloodied figure.
The scarred and barely breathing Szayelaporro Granz tumbled from the black cavity, his limbs weak, his body trembling.
Behind him, the rift slowly closed, swallowing the remnants of his escape.
A deep silence filled the throne room.
Aizen's gaze darkened.
His fingers tapped against the armrest of his throne, slow and rhythmic.
Tōsen Kaname's lips curled in displeasure.
"Szayelaporro," he said, his tone carrying an unmistakable edge of disappointment.
His voice was calm—too calm.
"You disobeyed Lord Aizen's orders… and challenged Uehara Shiroha without authorization."
His next words were laced with quiet scorn.
"And yet… you lost."
To Tōsen, the Arrancar were nothing more than tools of justice—disposable weapons to enforce Aizen's will.
If they were incompetent, they were worthless.
If they were disobedient, they were unnecessary.
Gin, on the other hand, let out a dramatic sigh.
"Well, well! Ain't this a surprise?"
His voice carried its usual amusement, but his eyes gleamed with sharp mockery.
"Isn't this the strongest of the Espada? How in the world did you end up lookin' like this?"
He tilted his head, grinning as if enjoying the spectacle.
"Didn't you say a 'mere Shinigami' was no match for an Arrancar?"
His smirk widened, his next words dripping with venomous amusement.
"Could it be… that Zero Espada ain't worthy of the title after all?"
Szayelaporro ignored Tōsen.
He ignored Gin.
He had only one person to answer to.
With great effort, he forced himself to his knees, pressing his head to the cold floor before Aizen.
His injuries ran deep.
His internal organs had suffered devastating shock damage—even super-speed regeneration couldn't fully repair him.
He was barely holding on, relying on layers of secret techniques to keep himself from collapsing completely.
But he didn't dare move.
Not until Aizen had spoken.
Aizen's face remained unreadable.
"Szayelaporro," he said softly.
His tone was calm, almost gentle.
But there was something sinister lurking beneath it.
"Why do you feel the need to apologize?"
Szayelaporro froze.
Aizen smiled slightly.
"If anything, I should be the one apologizing."
A pause.
Then, his voice turned cold.
"I did not expect you to be so… thoroughly defeated."
Szayelaporro felt a shiver crawl up his spine.
He understood the unspoken words.
Aizen had no need for failures.
If he had lost so completely—was there even a reason to keep him around?
Desperation flashed across Szayelaporro's face.
His forehead pressed harder against the ground.
"I was careless, Lord Aizen!"
His voice trembled as he forced out the words.
"I only wished to prove my loyalty! I thought I could eliminate Uehara Shiroha for you!"
His body shook as he struggled to breathe.
"I underestimated him… and I brought disgrace upon your name!"
His head lowered further.
"I am unworthy of the Espada. I accept any punishment you see fit!"
Aizen studied him for a long, agonizing moment.
Then, finally—he spoke.
"Szayelaporro."
A pause.
"I do not doubt your loyalty."
Szayelaporro's breath hitched.
Aizen's golden eyes gleamed.
"However… you are indeed no longer fit to remain among the Espada."
A tense silence fell.
But then—Aizen's lips curled into something almost amused.
"Nero, Paid… all of them have proven one thing."
His voice grew colder.
"The first generation of the Espada is… unnecessary."
Szayelaporro's body tensed.
Aizen's gaze darkened.
"The weak will be eliminated."
"Lord Aizen is right! Thank you for your forgiveness, Lord Aizen. I will never fail a second time."Szayelaporro is very sensible.
He knew that he had finally passed this level.
Aizen nodded and said to Tosen:"Yes, please take Szayelaporro down for treatment first."
""Yes, Master Aizen!" Tosen bowed his head and accepted the order, then turned and walked out.
He knew how cruel and bloodthirsty these Hollows were.
With the state of Szayelaporro, he might be killed by a sneak attack from that blind guy.
What future does a race that focuses on self-destruction have?
"Thank you, Master Aizen! I will give you everything for you!"Szayelaporro said as he about to leave for treatment
However, just as he was about to leave the palace with Tosen Kaname, Aizen spoke up:
"This time you should have obtained enough data about Uehara Shiroha. If you find any results, don't forget to report to me!"
"Yes! Master Aizen!"Szayelaporro's body froze, and cold sweat broke out.
He didn't even dare to turn his head, and an inexplicable fear rose in his heart:
"It turns out that Aizen has always known that I launched this attack for Uehara Shiroha's Bankai.
What a terrifying man!
Both in strength and wisdom!"
Tosen Kaname, who was walking in front, snorted coldly and continued to move forward
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