BLEACH: DRINKING MAKES ME STRONGER

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The crashing sound of swords echoed like rolling thunder across the sealed testing grounds, one after another, with a rhythm that shook the very air.

From within the narrow dimension, surging spiritual energy burst out in chaotic waves.

Through the translucent outer barrier, the proctors and onlookers could clearly see that on the frozen lake within the trial space, dozens of Asauchi—nameless Zanpakutō—shuddered as though caught in a storm.

They trembled unnaturally, scattered about the battlefield, as if responding to an overwhelming presence.

It was no longer a matter of examinees seeking to harmonize with the blades.

The blades were choosing.

And they were choosing him.

"What… what is happening in there?!"

Aoi Dai stumbled back to his feet, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared through the barrier. "This has to be Shiba Kuroba's fault! That lunatic must have provoked the Asauchi! He's disrupted the entire spiritual balance!"

His outburst drew an immediate chorus of support from other failed candidates—those who had returned from the trial room empty-handed.

"Yeah, he ruined everything!"

"He must've done something—he was drunk, he shouldn't have been in there!"

"He angered the Asauchi, and now we've all failed because of him!"

"Captain Aizen, this isn't fair! You have to investigate this!"

Desperation gripped them, like drowning men clutching at driftwood.

If they could place the blame on Kuroba, they might earn a second chance.

Aizen Sōsuke, chief proctor for the Maō Academy trial, had remained silent, lips curled in a calm, unreadable smile. But now his narrowed gaze locked onto Kuroba.

The boy was unlike anything he had accounted for. Not just his unpredictable behavior… but the results.

This one is dangerous, Aizen thought, mind racing. He doesn't fit the mold. His existence wasn't calculated.

A variable.

A risk.

And Aizen, architect of long-hidden schemes within the Gotei 13, could not allow that.

But before Aizen could voice a decision, Kuroba moved.

Squeak—

The drunken prodigy straightened slightly, his stagger barely concealing the gravity of his presence.

"I said I have two or three Zanpakutō. So I do."

His right hand rose, fingers curling with imperial command.

"Bring them to me."

The words rang out with an authority that clashed violently with the stench of alcohol clinging to him.

Despite his disheveled state, Kuroba exuded an aura that made even the captains hesitate—like a monarch whose will could not be denied.

A moment passed.

Then—

BOOM!

Dozens of Asauchi inside the trial chamber trembled. Then, in a sweeping surge of spiritual energy, they shot skyward, blades gleaming under the artificial moonlight.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

One after another, they tore free of their resting places, not in chaos, but in convergence.

They turned, shimmering with awakened reiryoku, and raced toward the barrier—toward Kuroba.

Gasps erupted from the corridor.

The Asauchi clashed mid-air in a storm of spiritual force.

Some were deflected. Others shattered.

But dozens more pierced through the spiritual barrier with precision and gathered around Kuroba, hovering like loyal retainers awaiting their master's command.

"They're coming!" someone cried.

"Those swords—are they… responding to him?!"

Even the instructors stood slack-jawed.

Kyoraku Shunsui, watching from behind his hat, lowered his fan and muttered:

"This isn't resonance. This is domination…"

"No… It's recognition."

The remaining candidates panicked, torn between awe and envy.

The swords—blades that once ignored them completely—were now flocking to one drunken misfit.

And in the stillness that followed, the frozen chamber, once ruled by silence and uncertainty, now bowed to a single will.

The translucent barrier trembled violently, as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

The protective field enclosing the narrow space rippled under pressure, its stability visibly compromised. Spiritual particles flickered erratically across its surface, revealing just how close it was to collapse.

And that was only the beginning.

Behind the barrier, dozens of Asauchi—unrefined Zanpakutō—burst forth, rushing like a torrent, each one seemingly drawn to a singular spiritual beacon within the space. Their movements were wild, chaotic, utterly unlike the passive, dormant blades usually stored in the academy's reserves.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The repeated collisions rang out like rolling thunder, the sharp clatter of metal and the dull resonance of spiritual impacts echoing like firecrackers in a storm.

The soundwaves buffeted the surrounding area, making many of the lower-ranked observers instinctively cover their ears or retreat in fear. Even seasoned instructors furrowed their brows in alarm.

What shocked everyone the most was the barrier—meant to withstand the violent reiryoku of even lower-ranked Hollows—now seemed to be wavering, threads of spiritual energy unraveling at its seams.

And more Asauchi were still surging forward, as if guided by instinct—or worse, summoned by someone within.

"Stop them! Reinforce the barrier now!" one of the instructors shouted, panic rising in his voice. "If even one breaks through—!"

"It'll be like unleashing a swarm of unstable Zanpakutō in Seireitei!" someone else exclaimed, their reiatsu already flaring in anticipation.

The sight of so many Asauchi converging together, berserk and unclaimed, was an unprecedented anomaly in the academy's long history.

"Captain Aizen!" Hinamori Momo gasped, seizing his sleeve in panic.

But Aizen Sōsuke didn't answer immediately.

His eyes, calm and calculating, swept over the spiritual storm ahead. A glint of amusement briefly passed through them before he furrowed his brow with practiced concern.

"Lu," Aizen called out, turning to the barrier's designated guardian. "Begin the spiritual reinforcement. Captain Kyoraku, I'm sure you agree that this isn't the time to debate causes—we need to secure the area before anything leaks out into Seireitei."

Kyoraku Shunsui, lounging in his usual manner, narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn't argue. He'd seen enough strange events in his time to know when to act first and ask questions later.

Still, he muttered, "Strange... even when multiple students fail to resonate, the Asauchi don't behave like this. It's as if… they're being drawn to something. Or someone."

Aizen offered a warm smile. "Then we'll discover the reason—once it's safe to do so."

The old man referred to as Lü nodded reluctantly and stepped forward. Though he had served the barrier arts for centuries, even he had never witnessed anything of this scale.

The sensation made his hair stand on end—some force inside the narrow space had triggered this chaos, and at its heart was that boy... Shiba Kuroba.

Still, protocol demanded swift action.

Lü knelt and began chanting in a low, gravelly voice:

"Heaven and Earth, manifest—

Black domain, veil the sky.

Square earth, round sky—

Bind all paths and seal the flow.

Let the narrow realm be drawn back into silence..."

With the final incantation, he thrust his hands into the ground.

BOOM!

A ripple of concentrated reiryoku burst outward like a spiritual shockwave. The barrier, previously trembling under the strain, flared with new energy.

Arcane patterns—woven from ancient Kidō and sealing techniques—spread like veins across its surface, pulsing with power as the containment field stabilized.

For now.

But within the sealed narrow space, the Asauchi continued to roar and surge.

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