Okay. I know a lot of people out there are going to kill me for the long hiatus. However, in my defence, I ended up dealing with a job change, getting married to an asshole who seemed sweet at the time, and then raising a beautiful baby daughter. A lot can happen in just four years.

Anyway, I hate how Bleach ended. As I mentioned before, I write fanfiction about works I don't really care about to see if there is a scope for improvement or there are any tropes that require deconstruction. Bleach had the potential to be a unique story on par with the Lord of the Rings saga. But Tite Kubo was busy making his characters look like supermodels rather than developing their lives. So, why don't I give it a try?

I may create a separate section about my essays (read: rants) about all the positive and negative aspects of story-telling used by Kubo or by other authors that could be applied to Kubo's work. Take a look at it if you are interested.

Enjoy!

Prologue

Fingers adorned with terribly long, perfectly manicured fingernails pressed down on the ebony and ivory keys. Lights and music notes played in synchronisation as sigils after sigils appeared on the virtual screen above. Yellow eyes regarded them with morbid curiosity.

Captain Kurotsuchi Mayuri studied the data collected and complied by his division that was currently streaming before him. There were anomalies in the boundaries of the spiritual planes. The Dangai that bordered the worlds had shown stress fractures at certain points.

He scanned the readings again. The punctures and fractures had been repaired repeatedly by the recreated Kōtotsu, but they kept reappearing periodically in the same spots over and over again.

Even this was not an unusual event. Balancing forces always placed pressure on the time streams that made up the Dangai. They were subjected to more incredible stresses when spiritual beings of power equal or greater than Shinigami lieutenants travelled through between planes.

No, what stumped him were the readings that were taken the moment the fractures were repaired.

There seemed to be time currents that managed to off-shoot from the 2,000 stacked layers. This too could be considered a natural phenomenon as all parameters were infinite and only quantified for the sake of human understanding. There were always in-between values like millimetres in-between centimetres, and micrometres in-between millimetres.

However, these offshoots were quantified in very regular intervals that suggested tampering by sentient force than a natural occurring event. There were time stream offshoots in key fractions between the quantified stacks.

His fingers tapped the keys lightly as his mind raced through calculations and possible causes.

The original Kōtotsu had been created when the boundary had been first erected to separate the spiritual planes. There had been many more paths connecting the planes until too many trespasses had been the cause of the Dangai's creation. The creation of the Dangai over five centuries and the plans had been passed to several hands. The original architect was unknown. The Kōtotsu had been created for the first section of the Dangai, but it was simple in structure until it had evolved several times until it had acquired its current form. Perhaps there had been other features in the original Kōtotsu that had been lost to time.

Uryū struggled to sleep. He knew that. Just like he knew that his son also had exceptional sensory perception.

Kurosaki had attributed it to the Sensory Processing Disorder and had all but commanded Ryūken to seek help. And had it been anyone other than his son, Ryūken would have done it far before Kurosaki even noticed.

However, there was a reason Souken had refused to accept the Wandenreich and their crusade against Soul Society.

Kanae had been by Ryūken's side when he understood the full expanse of the spiritual planes. Her grounding presence had kept him from losing himself and that was when he realised the full expanse of the spiritual planes.

Kanae had always known but had never spoken a word to her vengeance-driven brethren, for fear of them trying to exploit it.

And with good reason.

The world is far too big and he was a fool for not seeing it sooner. And the throne of Soul Society was the only thing keeping the balance.

Humans cannot survive in anarchy.

Rukia had been irritated lately. He noticed her annoyance at things that hadn't bothered her before. Whether it was something as simple as the smell of cherry blossoms, or something as truly annoying as the third seats of her division, she usually held herself with grace or expressed annoyance with subtle physical abuse.

At first, he thought it was the stress of her training. After all, she kept pushing herself every day, trying to understand her power and her limits.

Then he considered if it was the stress of her rank, but he knows how efficient she was in her work.

He then remembered that Rukia walked out of the room, cold fury radiating from her, whenever anyone implied her ice Zanpakutō as the second strongest. He decided to speak with her. He knew she was training hard and that she was stronger. Yet, there was a huge gap of power between her and Hitsugaya. It would not do to get carried away.

Arrogance was not the same as pride.

'Sode no Shirayuki is not a Zanpakutō of ice', Rukia all but snapped at him when he did get a chance to speak to her at dinner, 'She is far more.'

She was always moving and she always stood still. She was the same and ever changing. She had several faces but a single facet. She was one, she was many. She was the end, the beginning.

And she was furious.

She hadn't minded that horde, though they weren't as efficient as she wished. They had been better than the singular fools trying to station themselves on her throne. Yet now, the horde had failed spectacularly.

She missed the days of kinder spirits. Those that understood their duty and performed it to the best of their ability. They were stern and benevolent, and exercised judgement.

Now, her favoured ones had been replaced by pompous fools who were deluded by the superficial value of their wealth. Her slender hand reached for the sleeping deity. He had been one of her favourites – loyal and wise, yet humble enough to seek counsel. Her entirety ached at the sorrow he must have felt.

Unfortunately, she could not bring him back. Not without a price.

Everything in the universe had a price.

Perhaps it was time to remind the so-called greater beings of their insignificance.

Vasto-lorde.

The station that had been ever elusive to him. The pedestal he sought to stand on. The goal that was within his grasp but forever out of his reach.

There was something there, something he could touch, but just barely.

There were only a handful of Vasto-lorde in existence. Now, there was only one in that class left.

Devouring Hollows stronger than him hadn't helped him reach it. He could not understand.

Vasto-lorde were a level above all Hollows. They did now want for anything, they did not give-in to the crippling despair and madness of being separated from their plane of existence. They still felt all the negative emotions all Hollows felt. Yet, they were strong enough to never give in.

He spied the woman from a distance. He was not deluded enough to believe she did not know he was skulking in the shadows. Bloodlust, madness, despair, and pain did not cling to her. There were a mild aftertaste in his mouth, while every other being on this wretched plane reeked of them.

That was the end-goal for him – to shake off the taint that covered him.

So, that wraps up the prologue of the first chapter of the first part of my White Knights trilogy. (I'm pretty sure I do not need to explain the logic behind the name.)

Now that I have introduced you to the major players (I'm sure you couldn't figure out two of them, but SPOILERS!), I can tell you that the first work is intended to be a character study interwoven with moving pieces of the plot into place. There will be action, but expect a lot of drama as well. I'll try to weave the humour in as organically as possible. Let me know when I fail.