The fight was over before it even began.
Silas stood over a kneeling Barragan, the tip of his Zanpakutō resting against the old king's skeletal throat.
"Petty little thing," he mocked. "To think you had enough confidence to face me at your level."
The figures atop the distant tower watched with a mixture of horror and morbid fascination. This was not a display of power, but a reminder. Barragan was ranked number one among the Espada, with each of them aware of how dangerous an Arrancar like him was.
Barragan was lost for words. So Silas continued, "Your Respira immediately ages and rots anything it comes into contact with. Yet you failed to see our difference in power. Bask in what happens when just a fraction of my might can be felt by lesser beings…"
Silas stood there emotionless as a portion of his power was released. A surge of unimaginable spiritual pressure exploded from him, causing vast, white energy to erupt like a storm cloud. The light was blinding, raining down on both Barragan and the spectators like a torrential downpour.
They looked up, terrified, as if the entirety of Las Noches was going to collapse.
"Is this for real?!" Cirucci cried.
She wasn't the only one thinking this. For all of them were witnessing Silas's completeness and the purity of his might.
Grimmjow grinned wider than anyone's ever seen, his bloodlust flaring under the pressure. Yammy remained stoic, but a low gasp escaped his lips, betraying his surprise at the overwhelming dominance. Aaroniero's helmet was about to shatter at any moment. Zommari, Cirucci, Ulquiorra, Nnoitra, and Szayelaporro all looked on with wide eyes, sensing a power they'd never encountered before.
The remaining números, who were also watching, couldn't even withstand it. These weaker Hollows all collapsed either to their knees or faces first, whimpering for it to stop. Silas's spiritual pressure was too oppressive!
The immense pressure was just a formless mass, yet Barragan struggled under the weight. Even from afar, the other Espada was greatly impacted.
"Why have you no words?" Silas asked. "Can you not compose yourself, foolish king? Get up, hold your stance... Bring back your guard, or can you truly not even move by less than a mere fraction of my power?"
It was as if a white storm was crippling Barragan so much that he was drowning in the depths of the ocean floor. For the first time, he understood what it meant to be full of fear! Yet Silas was nowhere finished. He needed to use this Esapda as an example.
"Go on, Barragan... Use whatever technique you think can harm me. Gran Caída, Cero Oscuras—it doesn't matter what it is. Are you not like Ulquiorra, who has a Segunda Etapa? Or have you not even asked yourself why releasing your Resurrección hasn't threatened to destroy Las Noches?"
Those words pierced everyone. Of the many times Ulquiorra has been impressed and dazzled by Silas, his revelation of the second Resurrección—that no one should know about—thunderstruck Ulquiorra's very mind!
Silas then slowly withdrew his blade, leaving a trail of white light. "This," he declared, his voice devoid of any feeling. "Is the price of disobedience."
With one swipe, his blade completely shattered Barragan's Resurrección, breaking him apart until each and every one of his bones were crushed!
Then there was a tense silence.
The Espada held their breaths as Silas's spiritual pressure rose to the point where they could no longer feel it. They waited to hear him.
Silas, however, surprised them all. He dematerialized his weapon, his voice taking on a softer tone that seemed to contradict the brutal display of power that had just transpired. His voice echoed across the vast expanse, and even the números could hear him.
"Fear not. This was not an execution, but a lesson."
All of them understood things after watching him gather Barragan's remains. The reason why Las Noches hadn't collapsed, even after Barragan released his Resurrección (something forbidden under the canopy), was because Silas had been containing Barragan's spiritual pressure from the moment he laid hands on the Arrancar's sword.
Then there was Silas's own might. He had so much control over it that he managed to contain it in an area that would not destroy Las Noches. It wasn't just a show of display, but a declaration that he wouldn't threaten to dismantle everything they'd worked so hard on.
A stunned silence hung heavy in the air as the Espada descended from the observation tower, following Silas into a room inside the palace.
It was the entrance to the forbidden chamber where Aizen had stored the Hōgyoku. Silas had chosen not to notice its power yet, leaving the others to guess what his purpose here was.
Some of the Espada exchanged nervous glances, their eyes filled with uncertainty. Some, like Grimmjow, were merely too excited to see how much more Silas could entertain them. But the question still lingered: What was he going to do with Barragan's desecrated remains?
With silent obedience, the Espada continued to wait.
There, in the center of the room, a pedestal held the Hōgyoku. Silas approached it with Barragan's remains, the pulverized bone fragments already emitting a soft glow. He then turned towards the Espada, declaring, "The former king had his kingdom taken, so he shall not serve under the new king, lest he rebel."
Many of them still wondered what he was going to do with Barragan's broken remains. But rather than tell them, Silas was going to show them. He placed Barragan's remains on the pedestal, right before the orb.
A tense silence descended upon the room. The Espada held their breath with anticipation.
Silas raised a hand, his fingers brushing against the Hōgyoku. A surge of power erupted from his touch, and tendrils of dark energy swirled around the orb. The Hōgyoku pulsed faster, the light intensifying until it engulfed the entire chamber in a blinding flash, forcing some of the Espada to shield their eyes.
When the light faded, they blinked away the lingering afterimages.
A figure kneeled before the pedestal. And where the fragmented remains were, they were no longer there. It was Barragan, whole and intact, identical in every aspect—his Arrancar form, the tattered cloak, the regal crown upon his head.
He scanned the room, his eyes filled with confusion as he rumbled, "Who am I?"