The atmosphere at the Spiritual Arts Academy was tense with anticipation. Rumors had been circulating for weeks now—rumors about a student whose talents had shattered every precedent in the Soul Society's long history.
"A Shinigami genius not seen in over two thousand years," one seated officer murmured, exchanging knowing glances with colleagues from the Gotei 13.
This wasn't idle gossip. Reports had poured in from instructors, Kidō specialists, and even seated officers sent to monitor the student's progress.
Mastering a Zanpakutō without a sealed state, achieving instant Shikai activation, and memorizing complex Kidō up to level 60 after a single glance at the Kidō Encyclopedia—these feats were already legendary.
In kendo class, he had defeated an instructor with lieutenant-level combat experience—an accomplishment unheard of even among the prodigies of previous generations.
And now, this anomaly—this phenomenon—was about to undergo early graduation.
"What is this… even the captains are showing up?"
"It's Captain Unohana—no, wait… is that Captain Ukitake? And Shunsui as well?"
"Hold up! That's… Captain-Commander Yamamoto!"
Mouths dropped and whispers echoed across the training fields as the heavy spiritual pressure of Gotei 13's elite began to fill the air like an invisible fog.
First came Unohana Retsu, the gentle-eyed captain of the Fourth Division. Yet beneath her serene demeanor was the legacy of the First Kenpachi, a warrior of unmatched lethality.
Next appeared Ukitake Jūshirō and Kyōraku Shunsui, the first two students in the Academy's history to attain captaincy directly upon graduation. Their dual appearances alone elevated this assessment to a once-in-a-millennium event.
And then, the ground seemed to still under the overwhelming pressure of the flame-haired titan himself—Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, founder of the Gotei 13 and the oldest, most powerful Shinigami in existence.
They weren't here on official duty. No summons had been made.
They were here… to watch Akira.
Captain Shiba Isshin, the proctor for today's test, stood in stunned silence for a moment as the captains arrayed themselves like gods watching from the heavens.
"I see the rumors weren't exaggerated," Isshin muttered to himself, scratching his head with a grin. "This kid really dragged the whole court to his test."
"We are merely observers today," Yamamoto declared, his cane striking the stone with a sharp clack. "Proceed with the evaluation as usual, Captain Shiba."
"Yes, Captain-Commander."
Clearing his throat, Isshin called out, "Candidate: Akira Sōsuke. Please step forward."
From within the watching crowd, a black-haired youth emerged, his Zanpakutō sheathed at his side. His expression was calm, eyes half-lidded, as though this were just another class. Yet the tension crackling around him betrayed the truth—everyone present knew they were about to witness history.
He stepped onto the designated assessment field—a sprawling grass plain, ringed with Kidō barriers and spiritual monitors.
"Akira," Shiba said, his tone formal now, "Your request for early graduation has been reviewed and accepted. Because you belong to a first-class division, and due to the unprecedented nature of your application, you will face a special high-difficulty assessment."
"The categories are: Zanjutsu, Kidō, Hakuda, Shunpo, Reiatsu control, and Zanpakutō mastery."
Akira nodded. "Understood."
With a hand signal, Isshin summoned several Kidō Corp members who led forward a captured Menos Grande—a Gillian-class Hollow easily towering over the students. Multiple Bakudō bound its limbs and masked body, and spiritual suppressors glowed faintly around its neck.
"For the first round," Isshin announced, "you are to defeat this Gillian using Kidō techniques below level 80. Your attack must include one Hadō and one Bakudō. Begin on my mark."
Instructors, students, and even the captains leaned forward slightly. They had all seen students freeze when faced with real combat—not training dummies, but real Hollow intent on destruction.
"Release the seal," Shiba ordered.
The restraints snapped and fizzled into Reishi dust.
The Gillian let out a piercing roar, its grotesque mask snapping upward as it opened its mouth. A scarlet Cero bloomed within its maw—raw, condensed spiritual energy that began vibrating with unstable force.
"He's going straight for Cero!" a lieutenant gasped. "This isn't a simulation—he's really attacking!"
"A Gillian's Cero can be fired in under three seconds," murmured Kyōraku, eyes narrowing beneath his wide-brimmed hat. "Let's see if the boy can handle pressure."
A crimson beam exploded toward Akira.
He didn't flinch.
"Bakudō #81: Dankū," Akira intoned calmly.
A massive Splitting Void barrier shimmered to life just inches before the Cero collided. The blast crashed into the transparent wall, sending shockwaves through the field, but the Bakudō barrier held firm, its surface unscathed.
"Flawless," whispered Ukitake. "And he barely looked over his shoulder."
"Only someone with absolute spiritual precision can manifest Dankū without incantation and have it block a fully-formed Cero," added Unohana. Her serene expression shifted into one of interest.
Yet the test was not over.
Roaring again, the Gillian began to form a second Cero, even stronger than before.
Akira didn't even turn around.
"Hadō #88: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō," he declared.
Instantly, the ground cracked beneath the Hollow as torrents of lightning-blue spiritual energy surged upward like a geyser erupting from the earth. The kidō manifested in full—without incantation, without a gesture—pure spiritual dominance.
A blinding column of power engulfed the Menos Grande.
Its cry was drowned in thunder.
When the smoke cleared, only scorched earth remained.
No one spoke. Not even Shunsui.
Yamamoto's eyes narrowed slightly, a rare tell. "Hadō #88… cast silently and instantly," he said under his breath. "Incredible."
Most captains required at least part of the incantation for such high-level spells to retain full power. Even Aizen, a prodigy in Kidō, rarely performed fully incantationless Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō at this level of effect.
Unohana tilted her head slightly, voice low. "No wasted motion. No chant. No hesitation. Just precision."
Shiba Isshin swallowed. "Kidō round: pass."
The applause didn't come from the crowd—it was too stunned. What they had witnessed went beyond even what legends described.
Somewhere, a younger student whispered, "Is… is he even human?"
"He's a monster," another said. "A Shinigami born to lead…"
Yamamoto looked at the other captains. "Continue with the evaluation. I want to see his Zanjutsu next."
As Akira turned toward the next section, the dust settling behind him, even he could feel it:
The weight of the Gotei's future had shifted.
And now it stood on his shoulders.
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