Fire. Fire and ash bellow into the sky as the city burns. The view from the twentieth floor is a heart wrenching site. My brothers fight alongside the handful of reapers that stayed in the living world. Arrows dart across the land and sky in blue shimmers stemming mainly from this last beacon of hope.
"Though there isn't much hope left," I whisper under my breath.
Just moments ago Daisy, a human born reaper crashed through the window and a wall. She was stabbed in the chest and bleeding out. Fallon, the one who knew all this was going to happen, holds her. She begins to cry, not wanting to die, or whatever it is that reapers do.
Never have I seen Fallon panic or show fear and this day is no exception. He merely holds her, one arm around her and the other pressing at her wound. To me he seems so cold but she must see something I cannot. I can't tell you, no matter how hard I look, what it is she could find from his face to calm her, but she could, and a faint smile flickered.
The room cracked. Spirit energy darted across the floor of the skyscraper. Many of my brothers continue to fire at the hollow that struck Daisy down. He is too much for them to fight off alone. The blue shimmers merely pop and spark off his body. With his hand pointed towards us he gathers more energy for another strike.
After a moment a twinkle of red appears in front of this finger. Then the whole structure shakes as his cero strikes the shield protecting us. His power is something beyond a normal hollow or even a menos, even his appearance is abnormal. He is what the reapers call an Arrancar. He stands like a man, looks like a man and talks like one but his soul is twisted like the hollows.
Torn bat like wings each as long as his body connect to his shoulders down to his tail bone. As badly ripped as they are you wouldn't think he could fly but normal laws do not apply to them. Most of his body appears rather normal, mostly a very muscular man yet his face is another story. Half of it is covered by a bone mask, the same kind all hollows have. The edges are jagged and chipped showing this mask is part of their faces not a cover. His is shaped like a skull forming around his left eye, jaw and most of this forehead.
Held in his hand is a blood soaked sword much like that of the reapers. I don't know what it can do or how he got one but it has proven to be exceptionally deadly in his hands. Again a cero strikes us, fired by his free hand.
Fear grips me. As far as I can tell everyone feels the same. Was it all for nothing? I ask myself. This entire year training and preparing for battle to fend off the unlikely hollow assault turned massacre was all pointless. NO, it can't be.
I stand up from the cold ground and draw my bow. I've fought to hard, come to close to death for it to take me now. I take aim; only a perfect shot will work. I need to wait for the right moment.