Buzz—!
The central scanner shuddered violently. The liquid spirit particles in its core boiled instantly, spinning faster and shifting color from deep blue to dazzling, incandescent white.
The brightness of the beam shot out, blinding to the eyes. Every wall light flickered violently, forming a dense, blinding blue curtain.
A Spiritual Pressure as heavy as a mountain and as viscous as the deepest sea filled the hall.
Unlike an individual's presence, this was simulated by the machine—a crushing, suffocating field capable of triggering primal instincts within the Soul.
"Ugh!"
Many weaker Shinigami turned pale, staggered, and swayed like reeds in the wind. Legs went soft, bodies trembling, barely able to remain upright.
Yet at the center, Senya stood perfectly straight.
Even in this harrowing Spiritual Pressure, capable of destabilizing a seasoned Lieutenant, he remained calm, detached, as if the oppressive tide were nothing but a gentle breeze.
The contrast was stark—the chaos around him, his eerie stillness.
"Scan anomaly! Target Soul blueprint… unable to form! Spirit particle injection invalid! Spiritual field feedback near zero!"
The operator stared at the screen, now dominated by garbled text, voice rising in disbelief:
"What's happening? Is the instrument malfunctioning?!"
Mayuri Kurotsuchi's jaw under the hood tightened, a gleam of interest sparking in his eyes.
He sprang from his chair, his wide white haori fanning out, and rushed to the control panel, shoving the panicked operator aside.
"Forced spirit particle injection—maximum! Five hundred percent! Spiritual field strength, maximum power!"
Buzz—Boom!!!
The machine roared, as if a dying giant beast were trapped inside. The light beam surged, wall lights reached blinding intensity, and the entire hall shook. Dust rained from the ceiling dome.
"No… it's not working! Spirit particle repulsion! Complete repulsion!"
The operator, staring at the stubborn baseline line representing Senya's Soul, whispered hoarsely:
"The Soul blueprint… still cannot be constructed! The instrument is overloading… about to collapse!"
Alarms shrieked, red lights flashed, and the hall transformed into chaos. Panic swept the crowd. Some fled, shoving each other in terror; others froze, trusting their own strength.
Then, a calm authority cut through the chaos.
Unohana Retsu rose, slow and measured, her wide haori falling silently.
"Everyone, do not panic."
Her voice struck like a gavel.
She lifted a hand and began a chant:
"Princes of the heavens, iron-wrought fortress, the Dragon, the Lion, the Tiger, the Wolf, intercept the heavens and earth before they collapse—Bakudo Number 81, Dankū."
A massive, transparent barrier appeared, shielding everyone from the scanner.
The operator checked the readings again.
"Scan complete. Uchiha Senya. Spiritual Pressure Intensity: Extremely Low Grade. Soul Activity: Weak. Spirit Particle State: Perfect."
"Perfect!?"
Isane Kotetsu whispered in awe, her gaze bouncing between Senya and her Captain. The term was subtle yet absolute—reflecting complete stability and control over one's Soul.
In centuries of Shinigami history, few would dare call anyone "perfect."
The crowd froze. Pity, ridicule, and doubt evaporated. All eyes fixed on Senya. The boy they had mocked seconds ago now radiated an aura that even the scanner could barely capture.
Unohana's voice followed, calm and resolute:
"Uchiha Senya, you may freely choose which squad you wish to join, unless the Captain of the chosen squad objects."
The honor was unprecedented. Envy rippled across the hall.
Unohana lowered her hand, sleeve concealing her fingers, but her mind raced. That "perfect" Spirit Particle State—a purity so absolute it could absorb external Spiritual Pressure—was a treasure beyond imagining.
"Isane," she said.
"Yes, Captain!" Isane responded instantly.
"Effective immediately, Senya is designated the Fourth Division's highest priority guardianship target. You will personally escort him to the squad's exclusive Seireitei room."
Isane nodded without hesitation, moving at the edge of the light beam.
"Highest priority guardianship," Mayuri hissed from the shadows, venom in his tone.
"Captain Unohana, you dismiss the Research and Development Bureau's authority too easily. This subject—these anomalies—demand thorough study."
Unohana's voice remained unwavering, carrying the weight of a mountain:
"The Bureau's role ends at detection. His affiliation is not for you to decide. The Captain Commander will decide this matter."
Mayuri trembled with barely contained anger, but he knew the hierarchy. Certain young talents always received protective measures from the Captain Commander, and Senya had just earned such protection.
Senya said nothing. He followed Isane, obedient, calm. The crowd instinctively parted for him, a silent corridor forming through their awe, suspicion, and fear.
And thus, the boy who had been ridiculed minutes ago walked out of the Research and Development Bureau—his perfect Spirit Particle State an unspoken declaration of extraordinary potential.