Word of the Arrancar spread like wild fire through the 13 Protection Squads of Soul Society, and the remaining Captains did all they could to prepare their troops for the coming war, which would surely be the toughest challenge any of them had ever faced.
The squads trained and practiced harder than ever before to face the new enemy, each squad doing what they did best. Captain Unohana of the 4th made new salves to heal more grievous wounds quicker, Captain Kurotsuchi of the 12th tried to draw out strength with cruel experiments, the 6th drilled harder than any, under the cold unflinching gaze of Captain Kuchiki, while the 11th were beaten into shape like a molten sword from the forge by the brutal Kenpachi. But this would not be enough; no amount of drilling, special balms, hideous alterations or raw power would be enough to take down this enemy.
The Captain of the 13th knew that the preparations required a different approach, he knew that regardless of the subtlety in the sword strike, or the cunning in the invention, they were all brutality by another name, the other squads sought to cover their own weaknesses instead of learning those of the enemy. Captain Ukitake knew that they needed to learn everything they could about the Arrancar to stand a chance in defeating them, and so as soon as the Meeting of Captains had ended, Ukitake had immediately taken all his seated officers and headed straight for the Archives beneath the Central 46 Chambers so they could turn a hope into a chance.
Isagiga Itoka, the 5th seat of the 13th Division had spent days in the Archives, searching every file in the computer system for the slightest mention of the Arrancar, or anything even Arrancar like, and he did so until his legs lost all feeling from being unmoved for so long, and only decided to move once the dim blue screens revealed nothing more than what was already known. He bit back his frustration and flexed his muscles as he ventured down the levels of the Archive, resorting to perusing the increasingly aged tomes that sat neatly on organised shelves.
During his investigation he ate only when lower ranking members of the squad found him amongst the maze of shelves, and handed him food which he consumed silently while staring at the thick writing of old books, and despite the fact that he had not slept in days he forced himself to stay awake with his devotion to the job, and the thoughts of the praise his beloved Captain would bestow upon him when he found that essential kernel of knowledge that would lead to the downfall of the Arrancar, he craved that warm smile of merry approval that made him swell with pride, the smile that would come when he helped the Shinigami to re-assert their dominance over the hollows and their ilk.
Days or maybe even weeks passed, Itoka wasn't sure, the fog of fatigue and the lack of windows in the deep well-like Archive made the passage of time impossible to tell without a watch. Days went by without finding anything and Itoka worked deeper and deeper into the library of ancient lore, going down onto levels which hadn't been visited in years, decades or maybe centuries; anything he found, no matter how trivial it seemed, he would take to his Captain, hoping it would be of use, but each time Captain Ukitake glanced over the information hungrily, but then discarded the information with a frown of frustration and ordered him back down into the depths to look again, and with each journey back to the dusty lower levels the effects of fatigue crept in on him, depression and rising choler made his mood foul.
After a particularly harsh rejection by his Captain for accidentally bringing him the same piece of information twice due to tiredness, Isagiga began stomping deeper and deeper than he had last been, wanting to gain as much distance between him and the 13th Captain, whom his respect for was beginning to wane. Deeper and deeper he went, biting back the desire to shout angrily up to the surface where he knew the echoing central shaft would carry his voice, onwards he went until he could no longer see the roof of the shaft despite the lights.
Itoka had never thought that the Archive went on for so long, and had never known that so much had been recorded, or that knowledge existed from so long ago. Books this deep had a thick layer of dust and the spines were cracked not from use, but from age and ill maintenance, most of these books might not have been touched for a thousand years, if not longer.
Still angry Itoka bent down and ran his finger along a random row of books, brushing aside some of the dust on the spines only to find they had no names written on them, so with another annoyance to add to the pile he began to randomly pull out books and peer within the covers, not knowing what he was going to find or if any Arrancar had even existed at the time of the creation of these tomes.
"He doesn't appreciate your efforts." said Itoka's inner voice as he skimmed over browning pages, his choler rising again as he realised that what he was staring at was nothing more than a history of dock construction, "None of them appreciate how hard you're working."
"Ungrateful bastards…" he muttered to himself out loud, he had never felt as angry before as he threw the book aside and rubbed his puffy eyes that itched with tiredness and dust, smearing the Celtic patterned red paint that surrounded them.
"You're so close to bringing them the answer they've been looking for, so close to the weapon with enough power to take out the Arrancar with ease. Why can't they appreciate that?" Itoka nodded resolutely at the thought, but paused after a minute. So close to the answer? Had he seen something before that until now hadn't registered? Quickly he looked around, looking across the dusty book spines, but they all looked the same, all unmarked, none unique, but after a few moments of fruitless searching his rising frustration was quelled by an odd sight.
Itoka stood slowly, his eyes fixed on the middle shelf, on a book like all the others, dark grey and covered in dust, but something was different, its as if the book glowed but without light, as if it emitted a reiatsu of its own, but one unlike any he had ever felt. His legs seemed to move of their own accord, slowly but surely carrying him towards the book, his hands were outstretched now, his fingers aching to touch the spine, to feel the old leather and pull it free from the cramped confines of the shelf.
"This is it! This is the weapon! This is what will bring down the Arrancar! This is what will make them see your worth!" cried his inner voice, causing a smile to break out of his slim face.
"They will… see my worth…" he repeated slowly as he lifted the book from the shelf with both hands, but to his surprise the thick tome was as light as a feather, and what he had thought to be a book of dark grey leather like all the other, was actually a pale brown, stained leather book, heavily gnarled with what looked like an eight pointed star carved into the cover, partially obscured by a crusty red substance that was dotted all over the edges of the pages and the cover.
Slowly he opened it, more by instinct than by act of will, and some of the red crust cracked and fell away as ancient knowledge was revealed after thousands of years, but excitement died as he looked upon the stiff, stained pages and saw odd red runes which he had never seen before.
"I… I can't read this!" Itoka exclaimed aloud, in a mix of depression and anger, hopelessness crushing in on him, as if the deep archive was suddenly filling with water. He felt his only chance to distinguish himself had fled him, but as he turned the pages idly he found that suddenly a two page spread was written in the Kanji with which he was so familiar, and his hopelessness was pushed back like darkness chased away by the light of a candle.
Itoka stood for long minutes staring at the Japanese writing in front of him, staring but not reading, and slowly he turned back in the book, and to his further bafflement the runes had turned to Kanji as well.
"But… what?" he shook his head and stared harder, the symbols were indeed Japanese, there was no sign of the runes and he even checked to see if pages had stuck together, but after a while he concluded that he must have imagined it, after all, he hadn't slept in so long. He closed the book, confident in his success and began to make his way slowly back up the levels towards the surface, new energy filling him as he smiled triumphantly at his discovery.
"The weapon is in your hands, the answers they want and power you need are yours to do with as you see fit."
Captain Ukitake sat at a large reading table on the top level of the archive, surrounded by officers, each discussing something with each other and the Captain, each of them pointing at passages in books, but none of them interested Itoka, none of them knew what he had, or that what he had would outshine all of their finds put together.
Despite his silent approach, Captain Ukitake looked up at Itoka with weary eyes, his usual carefree demeanour having disappeared under the weight of dark bags under his eyes and lines of fatigue like his own.
"Ah, Isagiga, how's your search gone? Got anything good?" the Captain said with a forced smile, his voice thick with poorly concealed desperation.
"I've found something you might find interesting, my Captain." Itoka said proudly with a bow and extended the book towards the now standing Ukitake. As he took it Itoka straightened and noticed the curiosity on his Captain's face, but much to his own surprise it had not been the ancient book he had handed over, it had been a normal grey one, the brown one lay nestled in the crook of his arm.
Before he could say anything the Captain opened the book that Itoka didn't remember picking up and it fell open to a page which made his eyes open wide in astonishment.
"This details how some of the first Arrancar were made!" Ukitake exclaimed jubilantly, "It's probably not the same as what Aizen does, but it'll definitely help! Great work, Itoka, you definitely deserve the 5th seat!" the Captain's smile this time was genuine as he rushed over, all thoughts of tiredness gone, and affectionately he ruffled Isagiga's dirty blonde, shoulder length hair, filling Itoka with a warm feeling of pride and happiness "You better go get some rest, you've definitely earned it.".
Itoka couldn't remember what he said next as all the past weeks of sleep deprivation slammed into him like a tidal wave and he nearly fell on the spot. He vaguely remembered stumbling back through the streets of Seireitei, and ending up in the Barracks of the 13th Squad, but nothing else.
Just before he drifted to sleep he laid the book beside his head and stared at it closed.
"Why didn't I hand you over?" he muttered partially to himself, and partially to the book itself, and his inner voice whispered inside his head.
"It is not meant for him, a Captain he maybe, but YOU are the one who will wield this weapon, he got the meagre answers he desired, but what you have here will surpass anything he, or any other Captain have ever seen.
You will become the instrument that will change Soul Society.
With it… they will see your worth…
Without another thought, Isagiga Itoka drifted off into a sleep filled with dreams of the rest of his squad praising him, his Captain offering over his position to him and of Soul Society held firm within a vast iron claw that belonged to him.
