The dawn broke cold over the Rukongai training grounds, bathing the landscape in a pale silver mist. Dew clung to blades of grass, and the breath of the waiting crowd curled like smoke into the chill air. All of First-Class stood assembled, surrounding a cleared ring of scorched earth and cracked stone.
In the center stood Lan Yan.
His robes fluttered in the wind, the long hem torn from countless duels, the sleeves damp with blood, both his and others. Across from him stood Captain Hirako Shinji, expression unreadable behind his narrowed golden eyes.
"You sure about this?" Hirako asked, tapping the hilt of his Zanpakutō against his shoulder.
Lan Yan nodded. "If I can't control it, I shouldn't wield it."
From the side, Lanran stood with arms crossed. The faintest glint of concern flickered in his gaze, but he said nothing.
Captain Ukitake raised a hand. "Begin."
The instant the words left his mouth, Shinji vanished.
CLANG!
Blades met mid-air. The force of it cratered the earth beneath them. Hirako didn't hold back—his strikes came sharp and fast, serrated by his Shikai's spatial disorientation. Lan Yan fought through it, sweat trickling down his temple as he parried one strike after another.
ZHUOYIN gleamed in his mind.
Let me speak.
He drew a deep breath.
"Bankai."
FWOOSH!
The ring of watchers recoiled as a torrent of gold exploded from Lan Yan's form. Zhuoyin emerged, not as a sword, but as a hovering double-edged glaive of refracted light. A halo of radiance spun behind him, throwing long shadows across the cracked earth.
Captain Hirako skidded to a halt, eyes widening. "Tch. That's new."
Lan Yan blurred.
His blade arced in spirals, not just striking but curving reality itself with waves of photon-slashing light. Hirako was fast, but not fast enough. The second wave clipped his shoulder. The third nearly drove him to the ground.
But the fourth never came.
Lan Yan staggered. The glow around him pulsed once, then flickered.
Zhuoyin hissed in his mind.
The burn is too much. Your reiryoku isn't circulating fast enough.
Blood leaked from his eyes.
Adjust. Or die.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself upright. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. From the crowd, gasps rose as they saw the veins in his arms shimmer gold, overtaxed by his power.
Lanran stepped forward.
"Enough!" Captain Ukitake shouted.
But Lan Yan raised a hand. "Not yet."
He shifted his stance and slowed his breath. Zhuoyin adapted with him. The blade's light no longer pulsed wildly but bent inward, focused.
One more clash.
Hirako came again. This time, when they met, the force didn't crack the ground. It stilled it.
A perfect strike, not of brute force—but balance.
Hirako disengaged, nodding once.
"That's enough."
The light dimmed. Zhuoyin returned to its sealed state. Lan Yan dropped to a knee, panting.
Captain Ukitake knelt beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You did well."
Lan Yan looked up, vision blurry.
"I almost lost control."
Ukitake smiled softly. "That's what makes it a test."
From the shadows, unseen by most, Captain Kurotsuki watched. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "He's burning too fast," she murmured.
Lanran appeared beside her.
"You knew?"
"His Bankai consumes not just reiryoku," she said, "but cellular structure. Light at this scale is destruction incarnate. Unless he finds a limiter, it will kill him."
Lauren didn't blink. "He'll survive."
Kurotsuki smirked. "That's what makes him dangerous."
Author's Note:
The brilliance of Zhuoyin isn't just light—it's pressure.
Bankai tests don't just measure strength. They measure the soul.
But how long can a flame burn before it consumes the torch?
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