You were predictable. That was your greatest weakness, and yet I can't help but wonder if that was your greatest strength as well.
You were the moon, ever present and always watching. Even now as I sit upon your stolen throne, I can't help but feel your presence. Judging, weighing my actions by your own twisted morality.
Or maybe I'm the twisted one. But to quote you, 'Why should a king judge himself by the standards of his lessors?'
So, if I may judge myself against you, my only 'equal', how would I fair? Poorly in your view, I would imagine.
You were feared.
That may be the biggest difference in our time as ruler. You were never Barry. Never Barragan Louisenbairn. You were always a title. Your majesty. My lord. Oh mighty God-King of Hueco Mundo. You wore your power with ease. Secure in your dominance. Even after you've left, your shadow still hangs over the white sands we call home.
I am not.
I am simply Tier Harribel. Tier to all. I am met with friends instead of servants. I do not claim the title of queen, but they call me one none the same. The responsibility makes me hesitate. Out of fear. That I can not life up to their hopes, that their dreams of peace may crumble because I am not strong enough.
I will grow stronger then. They have chosen to put their trust in me. I shall not abuse it. I shall rule with care and love.
I can almost hear you laughing at the audacity of that statement.
You were an absolute.
As far as I know. As far as anyone knows, you reigned without challenge. Maybe centuries ago, the young and the reckless sought you out, testing their claws against you. But even now, the thought of anyone being stupid enough to challenge you is still a joke.
I am not.
They come in droves. Hordes of hollows, high on the news of your demise, instinct destroying what little rationale they have as they climb over each other in their frenzy. And no matter how long the slaughter goes on, there are only breaks in the carnage. Mila-rose and them must help me at times, when the numbers become to much.
I trust them. I do not need to be a god to rule. I need only my friends to guard my back. I will not rule alone.
Pathetic. I can't remember if that was your favourite word to describe me, or was it wasteful? It was certainly up there.
You were bored.
I remember the early days, when your name was just that. Not the grim skull that I came to know, but an abstract. A true God.
No one could tell me how old you were. They couldn't tell me for how long you reigned, who you usurped, who you fought to earn your place. As far as every hollow knew you were the first hollow and many of them expected you to be the last.
I suppose that was the point. Your job was done. You were now immortal in every sense of the word. Your name and legacy forever carved into the minds of 'the lessers'.
I am not.
Even through the blood, The girls will have their internal sqaudles. It's always something pointless, but it always brings a small smirk to my face as they banter. And when we are finally done, I do not comment on the stolen glances between them, checking for injuries or wounds brought to notice with a sharp comment or barbed tease. Instead I ask if they are alright, and they always give me the same response.
"Yes Tier-sama."
I will live. I may die one day, forgotten to the mists of time, but I find it better then simply existing for existences sake.
The weak do not get to choose their death. How fitting I suppose.
"I never did care for these walls, but they do seem to have a certain charm now. Just needed the proper decoration."
She'd lost what little sanity she had left, if she was finally seeing spectres.
Barragan simply raised an eyebrow in mock interest at her lack of response.
"Too good to talk to your betters now? You never did learn."
That did deserve a response. She was queen now after all, his equal.
"You simply didn't have anything worth learning." The words came out hoarse and soft. She had no idea how long she'd been chained for, but she'd long since lost her strength to the invaders.
"And yet I am not the one who ended up in chains, interesting that?"
"No, you are the delusions of a half dead women."
"The free delusion of a half dead insect, don't flatter yourself Harribel. Your gender is no excuse for your weakness. I would attribute that issue to the last dregs of humanity that you hold onto. You had so much potential too."
"As what? Your pawn?" Arguing with a deadman, she really had lost it.
"As my better." Barragan said with a coolness he'd lackr in life. "How many times did I encourage you to toss away the leeches and embrace being a hollow? And yet you never listen..."
Harribel couldn't meet the skeletons eyes. She knew how they'd appear. With a hint of annoyance and disappointment, like every time they'd had this conversation and the ensuing fight.
He always left her alive though. Gave her a good thrashing as if to prove his point but never any lasting damage.
"I was not going to sacrifice my friends for power." Her usual response without it's usual conviction.
"Yet hollows are still creatures of instincts. Would you take the trade if your life was on the line? Would you choose power over your so-called precious people when push comes to shove? I do not know." Barragan stopped and his skinless smile stretched. "But I imagine I shall find out. You are going to die Harribel. Your friends shall not save you, your allies, if you have any shall not save you, and I can hardly imagine the damn shinigami sending you a rescue party. You are all alone."
"So make your choice. Choose what you will sacrifice. Your future or your friends. Will you die weak and pathetic or finally show the potential I know you have.
Harribel quietly glared holes in the skeleton who stared back.
"Sacrifice... I sacrifice my..."
Barragan just laughed at her answer. It was rather amusing after all.
