"You're lucky, Kurosaki Ichigo."
Su Xiuyu's calm voice echoed down the scorched corridor. Kenpachi Zaraki, who had just turned to leave, came to a halt.
Su Xiuyu's group had been nearby when they sensed the immense spiritual pressure and rushed over without hesitation.
"Hahahahaha!" Kenpachi burst into maniacal laughter as he turned back, his spiritual energy erupting skyward. "Interesting! This just got a whole lot more fun!"
A battle-crazed glint shone in his eyes—he could already smell the raw power radiating from Su Xiuyu and Madara. This… this was what he lived for.
"That pressure... You two smell like real monsters," Kenpachi grinned, pointing his jagged Zanpakutō at them. Orihime Inoue, who stood nervously at the side, was completely ignored—irrelevant in the eyes of this bloodthirsty warrior.
"Madara," Su Xiuyu said casually, "how about you stretch your legs?"
Madara cracked his neck. "It's been a while since I moved seriously. This should be… entertaining."
He stepped forward without hesitation.
The moment Madara moved, Kenpachi's excitement erupted. He launched himself at his new opponent with a thunderous swing of his cleaver-like Zanpakutō. It sliced through the air like a guillotine.
But with ease, Madara blocked the strike using his newly crafted Flame Fan, forged by the dwarves to replace his Zanpakutō.
"That was close. But you're holding back," Madara muttered. "Let me return the favor. Uchiha Rebound!"
With a sweeping arc, the Flame Fan unleashed a massive surge of red spiritual energy. A shockwave erupted from it like a fire cannon, blasting Kenpachi off his feet and sending him crashing into a distant wall.
Unlike the original Uchiha war fan, which merely rebounded chakra, this one—crafted by the dwarf blacksmith King Atri—could actively release spiritual shockwaves, making it a fearsome weapon in both the Ninja and Bleach worlds.
Since Madara, Su Xiuyu, and Izuna had no native Zanpakutō upon entering this world, their weapons had adapted into spirit-forged equivalents. Izuna's looked traditional. But Madara wielded a war fan, and Su Xiuyu carried a giant axe—unusual shapes born of their own nature and fighting styles.
Even as the dust settled, Kenpachi roared with laughter and dashed back into the fray, faster than before. His blade carved through the air once more.
"Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation!" Madara bellowed, spitting forth an ocean of flame. His old habits died hard—even in a spirit form, fire was still his favorite way to clear a battlefield.
But Kenpachi charged headlong through the inferno, flames licking at his burning ornaments. A streaking fireball of madness.
"Tch… What a lunatic," Madara muttered. In the world of shinobi, few would dare to charge through high-level ninjutsu without hesitation. But Kenpachi Zaraki wasn't bound by conventional rules—he wasn't just a brute, he was the embodiment of reckless carnage.
As Zaraki's blade came down again, Madara caught it mid-swing with a backward sweep of the Flame Fan. A moment of silence. Then Madara lashed out with a heavy kick, sending Kenpachi flying back into a heap of shattered rubble.
Not far away, Byakuya Kuchiki felt the clash of titanic spiritual pressures and began moving toward the battlefield.
And as if drawn by instinct, the "Flash Goddess" Yoruichi Shihōin arrived beside the fallen Ichigo in a blur.
But Ichigo was no longer on death's door. Su Xiuyu had already stabilized his condition, stopping the bleeding. Given Ichigo Kurosaki's stubborn will and absurd resilience, there was little danger of him dying here.
"Just in time," Yoruichi said as she leapt down the wall. She crouched beside Ichigo and pressed a paw to his chest. "His injuries look bad, but he'll live."
"I'll take him to safety. You guys okay here?" She looked up, golden eyes sharp. "Also... Su Xiuyu—lend me your jacket."
Given the massive size difference between a cat and a teenager, carrying Ichigo in feline form was out of the question.
"You can take it," Su Xiuyu replied, already guessing her plan.
Yoruichi slipped on his coat, and in the blink of an eye, her body began to shift—fur receding, limbs elongating. She transformed into her true form: a tall, dark-skinned woman with golden eyes and a fierce aura.
"You... you... Yoruichi-san... you're a woman?!" Orihime squealed, completely overwhelmed. "A talking cat that's secretly a hot girl?!"
Yoruichi winked, stretching like a cat after a nap. "Is there a problem? I am a woman. You didn't seriously think cats could talk, did you?"
With a cheeky grin, she picked up Ichigo and vanished into the distance.
Su Xiuyu chuckled.
"You already knew she was a woman?" Orihime asked, wide-eyed.
"Yeah," he said with a grin. "I've fought her before. Pretty sure she wasn't using cat claws back then."
Orihime blinked. "Then... do you know how she can turn into a black cat?"
"No idea," Su Xiuyu said dryly. "But I can turn into a cat too."
"Wha—really?!"
As Orihime gasped in awe, the sound of clashing spiritual pressure exploded once again.
Kenpachi and Madara's battle continued—though, truthfully, it was now more of a one-sided brawl.
"You're holding back," Madara said, eyes narrowing. "This isn't a game."
Kenpachi, grinning wildly, stepped back and tossed aside his eyepatch.
"Didn't want to kill you too fast," he growled. The moment he removed the limiter, his spiritual pressure surged like a hurricane, shaking the air itself.
Madara smirked. "Now that's more like it."
But even with Zaraki fully unleashed, Madara didn't seem the least bit pressured.
"This will be the first time I try this in spirit form. Might as well make it flashy," Madara muttered. "Susanoo."
Blue spiritual energy coalesced into a giant warrior surrounding Madara. Towering several dozen meters tall, even in its second stage, the ethereal armor radiated destructive power.
Kenpachi's eyes lit up. "Is this your Shikai?"
"Not quite," Madara muttered, unsure what to even call his manifestation. He had no name for his spirit weapon. But that didn't matter. Susanoo was his answer to all who defied him.
A chakra blade materialized in the spirit warrior's hand, its size dwarfing the surrounding buildings.
Even Kenpachi, wild-eyed and salivating at the prospect of battle, paused for a heartbeat.
"Oh? Finally taking me seriously?" Madara smirked. "Then focus."
The third-stage Susanoo emerged, complete with armor, dual arms, and a looming presence that made the earth tremble.
"Let's end this," Madara said coldly.
From one hand came the spinning Yasaka Magatama. From the other, the towering chakra greatsword. Both were unleashed in a blinding barrage.
The explosions tore through the battlefield. When the smoke cleared, Kenpachi Zaraki lay buried in the rubble—unmoving, silent.
Madara exhaled. "Still lacking. Su Xiuyu, I thought you said this guy was supposed to be fun."
He turned away, visibly disappointed.
The first clash of titans… and it still wasn't enough to satisfy him.
--------------
"These aren't even the strongest," Su Xiuyu said calmly, glancing at Kenpachi Zaraki's unconscious body sprawled in the rubble. "The truly terrifying ones… are still ahead. Some of them are even stronger than you, Madara."
Madara raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. He understood the implication. Kenpachi might be one of the more powerful captains, but he wasn't the strongest.
"If it were the old man—Yamamoto—or that slippery Aizen… the outcome wouldn't have been the same," Su Xiuyu added, voice low. "Yamamoto, in particular, is a monster in straight combat. Even Aizen can't match him head-on."
"Hmm," Madara nodded slightly, absorbing the intel. "Sounds like someone worth testing... eventually."
Su Xiuyu exhaled. "Enough for today. Let's regroup. We'll follow Yoruichi's trail and rest for the night."
Without giving Kenpachi another glance, Su Xiuyu and his team turned and vanished down the road, leaving behind only the settling dust and the lingering tension.
Not long after, Yachiru Kusajishi arrived at the scene. Her cheerful expression didn't match the sight of her captain buried in broken stone.
"Kenpachi, you really found yourself a fun one this time," she said, grinning. "Don't die on me yet. I know you're not done playing!"
With surprising ease, she hoisted Kenpachi's large frame over her back and headed toward the 4th Division barracks.
There, she was met by Kotetsu Isane, vice-captain of the 4th Division.
"Captain Zaraki?!" Isane gasped. "Who could possibly…?"
In her eyes, Kenpachi was a walking hurricane of raw strength. The idea of someone defeating him—let alone leaving him in this state—was nearly unthinkable.
Yachiru shrugged. "He ran into someone really strong. And they didn't even use their full power, hehe. But Kenpachi looked so happy before he passed out. You know how much he loves a good fight!"
"…Let's get him treated immediately," Isane said, already summoning her Kaidō healing technique. "The wounds are deep, but nothing he can't recover from. Still, he should avoid fighting for at least two days."
"Roger that~" Yachiru replied, still smiling like this was all routine.
---
Elsewhere in the Seireitei, Ishida Uryū was wandering through the twisting alleys in search of the Palace of Penitence when a strange presence made his steps slow.
A chilling, unnatural voice echoed nearby.
"Well, well… what a delightful scent. Who have we here?"
From the shadows emerged Kurotsuchi Mayuri, captain of the 12th Division and director of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. His bizarre outfit, thick white mask, and gold-plated crown made him look less like a captain and more like a mad priest.
Mayuri narrowed his eyes as he studied Uryū.
"You… You seem familiar. Hmmm... Where have I...?"
Before he could finish, Uryū raised his hand, summoning his spiritual bow.
The glint of reiryoku confirmed it.
"A Quincy?" Mayuri's voice suddenly became giddy, almost gleeful. "Oh my, what a rare species. It's been at least a decade since I last experimented on one. I was starting to miss the feeling."
He tilted his head. "Don't worry, boy. If you surrender quietly, I'll treat you gently. My subjects usually last for several years—if they behave."
"You experimented on… the Quincy?" Uryū asked, voice low and dangerous. His eyes darkened, old memories of bloodshed and loss resurfacing with a vengeance.
Without another word, he unleashed a volley of spirit arrows at Mayuri. But the captain didn't even flinch.
The arrows passed through his cloak—illusions. He hadn't even moved.
Uryū's eyes widened.
"You're a crafty one, aren't you?" Mayuri said, now appearing behind him. "But I'm not alone today."
From behind a corner emerged Nemu Kurotsuchi, his loyal lieutenant and artificial daughter. While Uryū did his best to fight back, his arrows barely scratched her—and Mayuri hadn't even drawn his Zanpakutō.
Still, one of his spirit arrows grazed Nemu's shoulder.
"Tsk. What a waste," Mayuri muttered as he eyed the wound.
Uryū attempted to escape, but Mayuri hounded him relentlessly, like a cat toying with a cornered mouse in the maze-like corridors of the Seireitei.
"You can't run," Mayuri taunted. "You're mine now."
As the chase dragged on, Mayuri suddenly added, almost absentmindedly, "I met a Quincy like you before. What was his name... Ishida... Sōken, I think?"
Uryū froze in his tracks.
"…What did you just say?"
Mayuri blinked. "Oh? You know him? Small world."
His next words dropped like a blade to the chest.
"It was a long time ago. The Soul Society was wary of the Quincy, thought they might rebel. I had to monitor them closely. One day, Sōken Ishida was surrounded by several Hollows. I… may have delayed the response team. Just a little. For research, you understand."
He shrugged casually, as if he had forgotten the incident entirely.
"In the end, he died. But the data I collected was—"
"Unforgivable!" Uryū roared.
His reiryoku surged violently, spiraling around him like a whirlwind. All hesitation vanished. He was no longer just a Quincy fleeing a superior opponent—he was a grandson avenging his fallen blood.
"Oh? That struck a nerve, did it?" Mayuri smirked. "How amusing."
With a dramatic flourish, he unsheathed his grotesque, curved Zanpakutō—Ashisogi Jizō.
"Be careful. This baby isn't meant for amateurs. The poison… tends to linger."
A sickly purple mist began to seep from the blade, thick and toxic. It crept along the ground and rose into the air like death itself. Even Nemu, standing nearby, was caught in the cloud.
Uryū covered his mouth, recoiling. "You're poisoning your own subordinate?!"
"She's my creation," Mayuri replied matter-of-factly. "Nemu is an artificial Shinigami—crafted from artificial body and soul technologies. Her life and death belong to me."
Uryū looked to Nemu. She sat calmly against the wall, making no effort to avoid the poison. No protest. No fear. It was obedience in its most horrifying form.
The fire in Uryū's heart burned hotter.
"I used to think I was wrong to judge Shinigami. After all, I met Kurosaki Ichigo, and he wasn't like the others. But you…"
He glared at Mayuri with pure hatred.
"You make me sick. A monster like you—how did you ever become a captain? Is this what the Soul Society calls 'justice'?"
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