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It was never silent in Los Noches. The idea of the most blood thirsty and unforgiving city resting in a moment of peace was one terrified by most of their citizens. Even the death of one of their greatest figures could not stop the slayings that were to come within the city's walls. In fact, the most likely reaction from the citizens of Los Noches would be a riot filling the streets, burning everything in their path.

So the fact that Los Noches was silent, even for a series of moments, should have raised the alarms of every being within that city. In all reality, most felt the pinprick that something life changing was soon to happen, yet none felt so inclined as to go see what this something could be. One man and everyman for himself, was their motto. So as they all sat silently within the recesses of their own personal safety, the only conclusion that any would allow themselves to come to is that a tragedy was in the works. One that would be so horrific, that the city would go into an uproar and blood would paint these streets red.

Deep within the confines of Los Noches, lay the central palace in the middle of the city. It was pristine in condition, bathed in white in ill representation of the amount of purity that its walls so held. The structure itself was obnoxiously large in size with 5 towers shooting out to the heavens that most of the people inside would never reach. And like the rest of Los Noches, the palace was abnormally quiet, but silent, it was not.


Inside the mass of winding hallways that filled the maze like building, within one of the many rooms, sat a long white table occupied by four bodies. At the head of this table, stood a man of high power staring at the companions around him with a look of anguish splashed across his face On his left, sat his fox faced friend, a condescending smirk gracing his thin lips. On his right was a dark skinned blind man, long hair cascading down his shoulders in braids, face impassive.

The rooms fourth occupant stood out from the others, being the youngest one there matched by the bright color of her green hair. Her expression remained aloof, despite the dislike and distrust that she held within for every man within the room. Everything about this situation struck her as odd, and she had a thick feeling that she knew what was to come next. And what was next would bring no good to anyone, involved or not, except for the man at the head of this table himself.

Said man's eyes were currently sweeping over the 3 beings within the room, sizing up every one of them. Cool, calm, and calculated was he on the inside, but for the moment, he would play the part of the ever so grieving tool. No matter the loss of sanctity, though. Tonight was a night of celebration. Tonight was a night of justice. Tonight was his night. Tonight all his plans would fall into place and everything would change.

"Friends," he spoke, his words shattering the silence that had previously filled the room. His tone demanding authority, sympathetic laced with sheer power. "Comrades." His gaze swept the room once more before settling on the only woman in his presence. "And the prized possession of the very man we sought so hard to please.

"There is treachery within these walls. A most gruesome deed has been carried out. For last night a terrible crime has been committed in a desperate attempt to strip us of our foundation, by killing the man that every citizen of Los Noches holds dear to their heart. Some murderous, vile creature has taken the life of our king. And I come here to say that this will not be accepted. We will punish this murderer, an eye for an eye, for his sorry attempt at breaking us apart will not be taken lightly. Los Noches…Hueco Mundo… we will prosper. For the murderer has been caught and he so shall pay for the crimes that he has committed.

He finished his speech, eyes swarming over each occupant, just begging them to ask the question that he sought so dearly to answer. The blind man sat silent under his gaze, while the green haired woman's expression had yet to change. The only one who seemed willing to play part in this man's mind game was his silver haired friend.

The man smirked, opening his eyes ever so slightly wider, biting into the bait lain out before him. "So who is he?"

For a moment, one tiny moment, the brown haired man allowed the smirk that he had been holding back all this time to grace his face. But in a flash it was gone so quick, as if it had never been there in the first place, its effect replaced with that given by the name that came out of his mouth.

"Grimmjow Jaggerjaquez."


Footsteps were created beneath the young woman's feet as she stealthily made her way down the halls and steps of the palace that she knew so well. Since she had woken up and looked at herself in the mirror that morning, doubts about what she was about to do had clouded her mind. But after that meeting that had taken place merely two hours ago, her suspicions had been heightened and her resolve, firmed. She had to go out with this plan; it was the only option. And if it failed…then the world would be shattered into pieces.

Pale moonlight streamed into the tiny cell through a small barred window, basking the space in its ethereal glow. It made the only occupant's bright blue hair shine stark white, the sweat clinging to his muscles glistening, as he paced back and forth across the expanse of the room. Through the bars of the cell door, he could see the owners' of his neighboring cells were already fast asleep. All the better for his plan.

He had nothing to gather to bring with him; he had nothing with him that he even called his own. All he had with him had been confiscated in his capture. For what they had arrested him he did not know. All he knew was that if his trump card didn't appear soon, he would be dead.

Ears perked at a muted jingling of metal, alerting him to the fact that his plan was about to be set into action. And just like that, he was able to stop pacing, making his way to the front of the cell, leaning up against the bars. He looked as far to his right as the vantage point would allow him to, grinning when he saw a cloaked figure. The figure made its way down the line up of cells and the moment it was within his reach, he reached out his arm, pulling the figure up against the bars.

"Gotcha' woman," he whispered, amusement laced in his voice. "Get lost on your way down to hell?"

The cloaked woman merely slapped his hand away. "I don't really see you in the position to be making snide comments as such to the person who holds you life in their hands."

A smirk lit up across his face, his blue eyes boring into hazel. "That's really such an empty threat to make when we both know that if I'm gone then you might as well just die too."

Hazel eyes narrowed, flashing with red, its gaze sending him mentally reeling back. "Don't forget that we are not, nor will we ever be on such friendly terms. Do not make the mistake of forgetting who is indebted to whom."

He stood his ground, unwilling to let her know what sort of affect her unspoken threat had on him. "Oh don't worry about that, princess. Now are you gonna let me outta here or not?"

A sharp click resounded through the cell ridded space, answering his question. Without a moment to be spared, he was out of the cell, the woman unlocking the shackles binding his wrists, He glared at her, holding back the urge to crush her slender neck the moment he was free, her threat still in his mind.

"Shall we go now?' she asked, meeting his gaze as he rubbed his chaffed, red wrists.

The wild smirk played on his lips, his eyes sparking fiercely. "You lead the way."


AN: So heres the story I'll be working on when I'm not working on my other story, The Third (check that out). This has no relation to the festival of lights (I think that's what it's called) that happens in India. So I hope anyone reading likes what I'm dishin out and says what they think (no pressure). I'll have more info next chapter.