"Yare yare… can't he ever say things clearly?" Amamiya Miyako rubbed his temple with a sigh.
Even though the Sternritter powers were bestowed by His Majesty Yhwach, each Quincy's ability seemed to reflect something unique to themselves. That meant… the source of the Sternritter Schrift wasn't just divine favor—it might have come from something within.
Take Ishida Uryū for example—he had somehow survived Auswählen, the Holy Selection. Amamiya-san remembered. Uryū's Antithesis might have protected him. Even in the final clash with Haschwalth, while the Sternritter Commander had his power drained by Auswählen, Uryū was untouched. That could only mean one thing—his power was special enough to resist His Majesty's will.
"...So... what about my Schrift?" Amamiya's brows furrowed.
He was pretty sure he couldn't awaken it by himself. He'd need contact with the Wandenreich, and more dangerously, Yhwach himself. That risk... was insane.
"Forget it, that's a death flag waiting to be raised," Amamiya muttered.
Still, there was something the old man had said—"You will awaken it through the Shinigami path." Did he mean through Shikai? Bankai?
"Tch... guess there's no avoiding Zanpakutō training," Amamiya stood and picked up his Asauchi.
The unawakened blade gleamed faintly under the rays of the morning sun. He gripped it tightly.
"This... is my path now," he said quietly.
...
"Hadō #4: Byakurai"
A sharp line of reiryoku flickered from Amamiya's fingertip and shot forward, cracking into the target dummy. Smoke curled from the impact point. Around him, his classmates began whispering.
"Ehh?! That's Byakurai already? Sugoi…"
"I heard he's the only one with 5th-class Reiryoku this year. A real monster."
"5th-class?! That's Vice-Captain level! He's gonna leave us all in the dust…"
"Don't get carried away. Soul Society's seen 'genius' types before. Not all of them make it."
The murmurs stung more than expected. Amamiya narrowed his eyes.
Maybe he had gone too far. Still... that sensation during the spell... something had felt off.
He stared at his hand. He'd held back his output during the Hadō. If he hadn't… the damage could've been much more intense.
But even with that restraint, casting the spell hadn't been nearly as difficult as he thought. It was smooth. Too smooth.
"Hmph. Must be a Quincy instinct," he muttered. "Manipulating reishi is second nature to us, after all."
That changed things.
His original plan had been to fly under the radar. Just quietly finish six years at the Shin'ō Academy—True Spiritual Arts Academy—and avoid attracting unwanted attention.
But now? Could that strategy even keep up with the pace of what was coming?
"…Maa maa," he whispered to himself, "maybe it's time to take a few risks."
...
Later that night, the dorm was quiet. The sky above Soul Society glowed faintly with spiritual energy. Inside, Amamiya sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, his Asauchi resting across his lap. He took a deep breath.
Everyone was asleep.
Eyes closed, he recalled the sensation from earlier—drawing in reiryoku, shaping it with will, releasing it with purpose.
But now, he wasn't trying Kido. He wanted to try the Quincy way.
"Reishi gathering... ," he pondered, holding out his hand.
In Quincy terms, it was Ransōtengai that manipulated the body, but before that came the foundation—reishi manipulation through Reishi Ansatsujutsu. More precisely, Reishi Gathers—Rinkaku Jisō.
Minutes passed. Nothing.
"Dame ka...?" Amamiya exhaled. "Maybe I need a Quincy cross..."
Ishida Uryū always used his silver cross to draw in spirit particles. But later, the Wandenreich used abilities without tools—just with sheer instinct. Maybe…
"...Forget everything. Don't think like a Shinigami. Just feel."
He let go.
Amamiya-san emptied his thoughts. If there was even a shred of Quincy blood still in him, it had to awaken on its own.
At last, Amamiya Miyako's eyes snapped open.
A faint glow—blue-white, like moonlight over still water—flickered in his palm. He stared at it for a long time, his breath steady. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"…Yappari…" he murmured. "Even in soul form, I can still use Quincy abilities…"
It was just like Kurosaki Ichigo had done—awakening the power of the Echt Quincy after making contact with one of their kind. In Miyako's case, it might have started the moment he crossed paths with Ishida Ryūken in the Human World.
"Maybe that meeting triggered it," Miyako whispered, letting the reishi fade from his hand.
Even so, he couldn't afford to be careless. The Reishi Absorption—Ransōtengai, Blut, any Quincy technique—could all be detected by Shinigami with keen spiritual perception. If someone like Unohana-san or Kurotsuchi-taichō caught a whiff of it, things would turn nasty real quick.
"In Seireitei," he muttered, "best to lay low… unless I'm somewhere completely safe."
Still, this revelation changed things.
"I might not be able to reach the level of someone like Kurosaki-san," he thought, "but if I can learn to control both Quincy and Shinigami powers…"
A plan was already forming in his mind.
"If I want to master Quincy abilities, I'll need a teacher. That means I'll have to go to the Human World... and the only one I can turn to is Ishida Ryūken."
Miyako exhaled slowly, his eyes sharpening.
"Then I know which Division I'll aim for…"
But another thought loomed—Should I graduate early?
He wasn't expecting to pull off a miracle like Hitsugaya-taichō—skipping multiple years ahead—but with his current spiritual power and skill, advancing one or two years faster wasn't impossible.
"Based on the timeline… If I follow the normal six-year graduation, I'll barely finish before the plot begins. That's too late."
If he could finish early, he'd buy himself precious months to sneak into the Human World, locate Ishida Ryūken, and strike a deal. Even if it meant attracting a little unwanted attention… it would be worth it.
"Yare yare… I don't have the luxury of Ichigo-san's ridiculous training arc," he muttered, remembering how the substitute Shinigami had gone from zero to Bankai in just three days.
No, for Miyako, everything had to be earned—through sweat, blood, and razor-sharp focus.
He clenched his fists as a flash of memory—the feeling of his soul disintegrating during the Auskülen—crossed his mind.
Never again.
"I won't let myself die like that… Not at the hands of Yhwach, not even if the Zero Division comes for me."
He looked down at the Asauchi resting on his thigh. Tonight, like every night, he would continue imbuing his soul into the blade—bit by bit, drop by drop—until it became his Zanpakutō.
In a world teetering between chaos and war, only one truth remained:
Strength was everything.
"If I'm weak, I'll be swallowed up like the rest. Just another name on the casualty list."
But if he became strong—truly strong—he could rewrite his own destiny. Go anywhere. Do anything. Survive anyone.
Even... stand before Yhwach or Yamamoto Genryūsai without bowing his head.
His hand tightened around the Asauchi, resolve burning behind his eyes.
"From now on… no more holding back."