Hmm?"
Sensing a sudden and immense shift in Reiatsu behind him, Jūshirō Ukitake turned his head sharply, his gaze locking onto Akira .
Fwhoooosh—
Golden spiritual light surged from Akira 's palm, coalescing rapidly. A Zanpakutō with a straight, narrow blade—eerily resembling a Tang-style hengdao, devoid of any curvature—emerged from the swirling radiance and dropped neatly into his waiting hand.
"What…?"
Ukitake's pupils shrank in disbelief. His usually composed heart surged with turbulent emotion.
"That's… a Zanpakutō!"
"But how is that possible?"
"A Zanpakutō, manifested directly through Reiatsu… without ever using a sealed state?!"
Nearby, Urahara Kisuke, Byakuya Kuchiki, and other noble-born Shinigami were visibly shaken, their expressions darkening with incredulity and confusion. Precisely because of their noble status, they understood the implications far more deeply than those from Rukongai.
A Zanpakutō, unlike Asauchi—the sealed, unpersonalized state given to students—was a product of spiritual bonding. Creating one outright required both immense spiritual power and resonance with one's inner world.
To bypass the sealed state entirely and draw out a personalized Zanpakutō from nothing but soul and will—this was something that hadn't happened since the pre-Asauchi era, before Ōetsu Nimaiya forged the concept of sealed states for the masses.
Meanwhile, Tousen Kaname, Komamura Sajin, and others from Rukongai appeared puzzled. They could feel the intensity of Akira 's Reiatsu and the blade's presence, but they didn't grasp the revolutionary nature of what had just occurred.
"Zanpakutō?" Komamura whispered in confusion.
"Brother," Aizen murmured beside Akira , "you've taken another step ahead."
He smiled slightly.
"Well then… it's your turn too. Or are you planning to drag me back by letting me fall behind?"
Seeing Akira summon his Zanpakutō directly only further confirmed Aizen's earlier judgment. These sealed Asauchi in front of them were inferior—not defective per se, but not compatible. Accepting one would mean inviting unpredictable variables into his soul.
Yet even while he understood, Aizen still felt a flicker of impatience.
He was genuinely happy for his brother, but…
"If you reject the sealed state," he murmured to the inner voice in his soul, "then walk out yourself. Stop hiding."
As if in response to his provocation—
Fwhoooosh—
A shimmering ribbon of amethyst-hued spiritual light burst forth. A brand-new Zanpakutō, far more refined in aura than the standard sealed blades, descended quietly into his palm.
Aizen's grip closed around it with natural confidence.
If he had already chosen to reveal his talent by entering the Academy under his own name, then there was no point in hiding this.
Of course, certain abilities must be concealed. That much was necessary. But this much power, even at a mere fraction of their full potential, was already enough to shock the Soul Society to its core.
"As expected of a king," Akira said softly, watching Aizen receive his Zanpakutō through sheer will and compatibility.
"I'm lucky that our blades choose us on their own. Otherwise, being your older brother wouldn't be so easy."
He chuckled, inwardly amazed. If his own success was partially due to the advantage of his system—his cheat—then Aizen's rise was fueled entirely by talent and mastery.
Despite being a step behind, Aizen never failed to catch up.
Every time he advanced, Aizen would grow too—swiftly, dangerously, and with frightening precision.
They were rivals. Brothers. Mirrors of potential.
"I am Aizen for life," Aizen said softly, eyes gleaming. "And I am not weaker than anyone."
Holding his Zanpakutō in hand, he nodded to Akira .
The look they shared beneath their lenses was quiet, intimate, and fierce.
The feeling of chasing each other—it was intoxicating.
"First Akira , then Aizen," Shihouin Yoruichi murmured from the side, her voice edged with wonder. "These two… they're complete monsters."
"To manifest Zanpakutō without Asauchi… I thought that was just a legend."
Byakuya Kuchiki's fingers curled slightly around his own sealed Zanpakutō, emotion breaking his perfect posture.
"Excuse me, is something wrong?" asked Tianbei Xiuzhu, glancing around. He noticed that every Shinigami of noble descent had stiffened—their composure cracked, replaced with astonishment.
"Oh, nothing much," Urahara Kisuke said lightly, lifting his hat and speaking with that trademark grin.
"It's just that in the 2,000-year history of the Gotei 13, no Shinigami has ever drawn a Zanpakutō without relying on a sealed Asauchi."
"What?!" gasped Tousen Kaname and Tianbei Xiuzhu, who were still basking in the pride of receiving their blades just moments before.
Their faces shifted to disbelief and, faintly, shame.
"Kisuke," Ukitake said gently, "calling it 'nothing much' might be an understatement."
"Indeed." Urahara's smile remained, but a sharp gleam appeared in his eyes.
"Historically, those who manifest Zanpakutō directly from their soul—with no Asauchi intermediary—have left unforgettable marks on Soul Society's timeline."
Not only is his spiritual pressure immense, but even his Zanpakutō exudes an extraordinary aura."
Shihouin Yoruichi kicked Urahara Kisuke lightly to the side with a smirk, her tone laced with half-serious awe.
"Oi, oi," Kisuke adjusted his hat, "are you saying that not only are they monsters themselves, but even their Zanpakutō aren't ordinary?"
Komamura Sajin, still winded from earlier, asked the question that hung on everyone's minds.
"According to the recorded history of the Soul Society, that seems to be the case."
Jūshirō Ukitake took a long, contemplative glance at Akira and Aizen.
Originally, he had intended to use the sealed state—Asauchi—to subtly gauge the depths of Akira 's potential, a common tactic among captains for screening prodigies. But now, that was no longer necessary.
Not to mention the evaluation of Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, or Kidō—even without knowing their Shikai abilities, the fact that both had created their own Zanpakutō without an Asauchi already placed them on a tier few had ever reached.
In all his years, Ukitake could only recall one man who had achieved the same.
Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, the founder of the Gotei 13, who wielded Ryūjin Jakka, the oldest and most powerful fire-type Zanpakutō, had also forged his blade without relying on an Asauchi—through sheer will and spiritual supremacy.
"Even if their mastery of Zanjutsu, Hakuda, Hohō, and Kidō hasn't yet reached the level of Sensei Genryūsai," Ukitake thought, "their aptitude and natural compatibility with their Zanpakutō guarantees they'll surpass both me and Kyoraku in time."
"At this rate, if Sensei finds out, I wouldn't be surprised if he starts recruiting personal disciples again."
He chuckled internally. As a noble, Ukitake held pride in his bloodline, but as a disciple of Genryūsai, his loyalty lay with the Gotei 13's future. These two prodigies were good news.
["Aizen shall never be weaker than another."]
Akira 's Zanpakutō suddenly spoke again within his soul, but this time with an unmistakable competitive flare.
["Then let him try. But remember—your blade, your soul, is the first in all of Soul Society. The name of the strongest light shall belong to me."]
The moment the name of his Zanpakutō surfaced in his heart, Akira felt his soul shudder.
As if unwilling to be ignored, his Zanpakutō roared the name aloud within his mind—like divine thunder shaking the earth.
BOOOOOM—!
A colossal boom erupted, thunderous and resonant like the skies had split open. Every Shinigami present heard it—not just with their ears, but within their souls.
Then—
SHWOOOOM!
Centered around Akira , torrents of golden spiritual energy burst outward like a dam had broken. In a heartbeat, radiant lights spiraled skyward, engulfing his body in luminous streamers.
The golden lights twisted upward into a single towering pillar of Reiatsu, which pierced the sky above the Spiritual Arts Academy, extending straight into the clouds over Seireitei.
It did not fade.
It persisted, a divine beam of pressure and power that refused to be ignored.
BOOM!
The ground quaked. The atmosphere screamed.
Waves of raw spiritual pressure exploded in all directions. Only Aizen and Ukitake, standing closest, remained unmoved. Everyone else—even veterans like Kisuke, Yoruichi, and Byakuya—were thrown back by the storm of power.
Shinigami trainees, especially those like Tousen and Komamura, who had only moments earlier acquired their sealed Asauchi and hadn't yet trained in Zanjutsu, were flung like ragdolls. One by one, they slammed into walls or skidded across the ground, gasping for air.
The sheer weight of the Reiatsu felt like standing at the edge of a collapsing star.
"Akira … you… what did you hear just now? Tell me!"
Jūshirō Ukitake's voice carried rare urgency, his usually calm tone now filled with anticipation and reverence. His eyes fixed on the boy radiating light, whose form looked like a Kami descending from the heavens.
Akira stood silent for a heartbeat, golden energy still surrounding him like a divine mantle, his expression unreadable.