A thunderous bolt of lightning struck, consuming everything in its path.
Hurricanes, Kamaitachi wind blades, black figures… even screams had no time to escape. Life was extinguished instantly, leaving behind only charred, unrecognizable corpses, lying quietly in the crater scorched by the lightning strike.
The black-cloaked figures froze in place, stunned, unable to react.
Their leader was the strongest among them—and yet, he had been instantly obliterated by a single Hadō unleashed by the figure hidden beneath Kyokkō.
The gap in power was enough to crush the morale of anyone present.
Without hesitation, once the survivors processed what had happened, they turned to flee the battlefield.
But it was too late.
The hidden figure, having eliminated the greatest threat in the grandest possible display and drawn every gaze toward himself, slowly reversed his Zanpakutō, pointing the tip toward the ground. Waves of shimmering light rippled along the blade.
In that instant, everyone's movements froze. The air itself seemed to pause, as if time had been halted.
"Shatter… Mirror Flower, Water Moon."
The voice was calm, detached, yet carried across the vast battlefield. Flames licking the edges of the terrain flickered and stilled, as if caught in the command of his words.
In the silence, a crisp, breaking sound echoed.
The next moment—
As the confusion and shock in everyone's eyes cleared, their instincts took over.
Hands grasped Zanpakutō, and strikes flew at the black figures surrounding them.
Blood gushed freely, pooling into rivulets that spread across the scorched ground.
At some point, the figure had stepped to the edge of the battlefield. Calm brown eyes observed the ongoing carnage as though it were nothing to him, as if he were entirely detached from the chaos around.
"Rebels, nobles, greed, power…"
Aizen murmured to himself, his expression blank.
"So this is the essence of the Soul Society, huh?"
"Truly filthy."
"Although that guy doesn't seem particularly sharp, he sees through this kind of thing better than anyone else."
"Perhaps… it's just intuition."
The battle grew more and more intense, until all the enemies in the eyes of the survivors were finally dead. Only then did the remaining people begin to regain their senses.
They stared, aghast, at the aftermath.
Several black-clad figures lay strewn across the battlefield, their bodies shredded as if countless blades had carved through them, reduced almost to meat paste.
Blood flowed freely beneath them, staining the scorched ground a deep crimson.
"Did we… do all this?"
"How… how is this possible? I—I'm a researcher!"
"Not me! I can't even cast Hadō #10!"
In shock, the survivors quickly compared notes, eventually piecing together what had happened.
In the face of life and death, terror unlocked their latent potential—and that unleashed strength had slain the ambushing black shadows.
"So… I'm that strong?"
One researcher stared at his hands, stained with blood, dumbfounded.
"Then screw research!"
"I'm joining Squad Eleven! I want to fight on the front lines!"
"Agreed! Me too!"
Blinded by the thrill of victory, the surviving researchers cheered, nearly bouncing off the walls with excitement.
Most of them had lacked the strength to enter Squad Thirteen's ranks, relegated to performing basic experiments in the Shudoro Research Institute. Now that their potential had been unlocked, they naturally yearned for a better future.
After some discussion, they agreed to report to Squad Eleven the very next day.
Aizen didn't concern himself with what consequences his Mirror Flower, Water Moon might have, nor whether the survivors would live. It wasn't his problem.
What he focused on next, besides refining and researching the Kido inscriptions, was another matter of far greater importance.
Comprehensive Medical Ward, Room 3.
"What did you say?!"
Kisaragi Akira's eyes went wide. "The Spirit Arts Academy… has final exams?!"
Aizen, anticipating this reaction, remained expressionless, as if it had nothing to do with him.
"This…"
"It's just common sense, I suppose."
From the bed beside him, Kuroki Sōjun gave an awkward smile.
"Didn't Teacher Kaede tell you?"
"No. Absolutely not."
Kisaragi shook his head, having no memory of such a thing.
"It was explained in the first class."
Aizen's face remained blank as he undermined him. "Since we've participated in two missions, your practical course was graded full marks."
"Even though I didn't do much in those missions," Kisaragi's eyes widened further, like twin copper bells.
"I know what you're thinking. The final exam content? I've prepared it all for you. You just need to memorize it."
Kisaragi's face lit up instantly. "You're the best, bro!"
Aizen then placed a stack of books, twenty centimeters high, on the bed beside him.
Kisaragi's smile froze. His voice trembled.
"This many…?"
"This is just the index. The content you need to memorize is over there."
Aizen gestured outside the window, where piles of books formed a mountain almost filling the hallway.
"'Three Histories of the Soul Society,' 'Origins of Squad Thirteen,' 'The Nature of Hollows,' 'Spirit Structure and Analysis,' 'Soul Burial and Purification'…"
Kisaragi stared in shock as Aizen recited titles for nearly a full minute.
"These are the most basic theories," Aizen sighed. "I've already streamlined them as much as possible. If you can't memorize these, then you're out of luck."
"And you?"
"Of course, I've memorized everything."
Aizen's tone carried a trace of exasperation. With Kisaragi's talent, mastering this material would take minimal effort—but he'd rather endure heavy strikes under a waterfall than memorize a single word.
In his reasoning, memorizing didn't make him stronger—so why waste brain capacity? His limited mental space needed proper allocation to ascend to the very top.
Though it was hard to understand why a student not yet graduated would suddenly have such lofty ambitions, Aizen allowed him to proceed.
"Damn it!"
Kisaragi shouted in outrage.
"Having the answers in your head—isn't that cheating?!"
"Do you dare test your luck fairly?"
Silence fell over the room. The two of them exchanged strange glances with the furious boy, leaving no immediate reply.
After a pause, the ever-friendly Kuroki Sōjun tried to calm him.
"Actually, first-years don't have that much to memorize. There's still time before finals. You just need to—"
After some rambling, Kisaragi tried to calm his mind and start with the index.
But he soon gave up.
Even with the content optimized, the thought of memorizing so much useless information made his head ache.
It wouldn't help him at all in life…
So, instead, Kisaragi set the books aside, pulled out incense, offerings, and ritual tools from under the bed, and began a full-scale ritual.
"Does he… always do this?"
Kuroki asked, bewildered.
Aizen's eyes flickered with a trace of exasperation. He nodded.
Indeed. Nothing unexpected here.
Between doing homework and "cheating," Kisaragi always chose the latter… in his own way.