Chapter 36
A/N: This chapter is very bittersweet to me. I love the way it turned out, of course, but this marks the end of another arc of this story. Thank you, all of my wonderful reviewers who have supported me on this long voyage, and THANK YOU, lilarin for being the best beta ever! I never would have gotten through this without you.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
"You summoned us, Ichigo?" Renji spoke quietly from one side of the hospital bed. Rukia stood across from him, staring down at their elderly friend with a soft smile.
"That Hollow boy," began Ichigo in a raspy voice, "Do not attempt to fight him."
"You know we are under orders. We have to take him out," Rukia replied softly, but professionally. Across from her, Renji nodded in silent agreement. They still had a duty to the humans of this town and to Seireitei.
"You will find the task nearly impossible," Ichigo stated, a faint smile upon his lips.
Immediately, Renji fired up, taking a step toward the bed, "I've handled full-grown Arrancars before, what makes this brat so special?" Perhaps he was being arrogant, but he'd experienced everything an Arrancar had to offer. With Aizen gone, they were a dying breed.
Rukia placed a hand on Renji´s arm to calm him. Both waited silently for Ichigo to elaborate further but it took some time before Ichigo only shook his head wearily,"He is something the world has never seen before. He did not evolve into a Hollow. He was born one. He is pure. He cannot be cleansed like the others."
Cannot be cleansed? wondered Renji, that must have been why I could not put a scratch on him earlier.
"This..." Renji sputttered, "Then he is dangerous! Every Shinigami is nearly powerless against such a being!" he raged, finally putting together all of Ichigo's information, "We have to warn Seireitei!"
"No," replied Ichigo weakly, making a faint attempt to raise his hand. It was clear that the conversation was taking its toll on him, "He will find a way into Soul Society, and when he does, no one will be able to stop him."
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
Sol's new hiding spot was not as busy or interesting as his previous one. He suppressed his reiatsu now as much as possible but sometimes it was not enough. The Shinigami, even after being told by Ichigo Kurosaki that he was no danger to the town, still hunted him relentlessly. He made his new camp on the edge of town in an old, Christian graveyard. By day he hid in the luxurious burial house of a family named "Takahashi" and at night he strayed outside when he felt no one nearby.
Sitting upon one of the larger of the many cross structures that served as headstones, Sol watched the last rays of the sun's light dip below the horizon. He now understood the sun fever his parents had always mentioned. One look upon the beauty of the sun of the living world was enough for one to become addicted for a lifetime.
"Sol," said a quiet voice. Sol ignored it. "I was hoping I could find you here. I guess I was right." There was a long silence. "You don't want to talk to me, I get it," the boy finally sighed. Sol watched him out of the corner of his eye as the boy meandered around the graveyard, placing a flower on a grave here and there. A feeling of guilt suddenly struck the hollow. Sol had no reason to be angry with Eiji. What happened between their ancestors should not affect their acquaintanceship.
"Why the flowers?" Sol finally asked, hopping off the gravestone. Eiji looked up from where he was kneeling, a smile brightening his boyish face.
"For the dead. To let them know they are still remembered. To keep them at peace," the human stood and approached him, holding out a single rose the color of blood. Sol did not take the offered flower. Grimmjow was right. Flowers were a poor apology.
"I did not know..." Sol began slowly, "...that I was such a wretched creature." He stared Eiji fiercely in the eye, "Do you see me as a monster, human?"
Eiji dropped the arm holding out the flower and exhaled, "Those things my grandfather told you-"
"He told me a lot but he did not tell me enough," Sol snapped, as he began to pace among the headstones. Eiji's eyes followed him with their useless sympathy, "I am more confused than ever. My own parents... Do they even love me? I am not even sure they love each other. If I am not more than an experiment, then I want to know why and for what purpose I was born," Sol answered strongly, curling his hand into a fist. "This 'Aizen', he is the one I really must see."
Silence hung between the two of them for a period of time. In the end, Eiji bent down, placing the last rose on the gravestone before them.
Then, the human boy spoke, "I think I might be able to help you." he held out an object in his hand. It was a small plaque with a skull on it, "This is a substitute Shinigami combat pass. It can let us pass into Soul Society," Eiji reached up and unwrapped the object on his back. It was a large, sword, both thicker and longer than Luz, "And this is a Shinigami Zanpakuto. My grandfather gave these to me last night. It seems he doesn't want you to go alone to Soul Society. I can take you there...and perhaps to Aizen as well."
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
Though the most important hollows in the battle were already dead or incapacitated in some form, the wild beasts on both sides still had not ceased their fights. Dead bodies littered the ground. The smell of blood and death was all around him. Ulquiorra dragged his feet as far as possible from the fighting, losing himself completely into the destroyed castle. He found a small section where the foundation was still in place. Two concrete walls had fallen partially supporting each other. Ulquiorra collapsed against the cement, glad to be sheltered on almost three sides.
He found, once he was off his feet, that he was far more tired than he'd thought. Pure adrenaline had been what had gotten him through the last few hours. He let his head fall back against the wall, but it was hard to get comfortable when surrounded by only concrete and stone and with no remotely soft materials within an obtainable distance.
It was not an ideal place to give birth to his pup, but there was nothing he could do. He sighed deeply, caressing his cramping belly. His thoughts involuntarily drifted to Grimmjow.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
It was already over by the time Grimmjow arrived onto the scene. Szayel, the man with the plan, would of course never even have stepped onto the battlefield with a single doubt about his victory. Grimmjow stood back, nearly holding his breath, as the dust settled and he was finally able to observe.
Szayel pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "I was surprised how easily you fell into my trap. I thought you'd have come to this fight better prepared. How very disappointing, S01," he said smugly. The girl was lying in the sand, coughing up blood and sporting a variety of surface injuries.
"Your rein of tyranny...is over..." Stella panted, "We...can take you on. We...can beat you and you know it."
"I'm afraid there is no we anymore my dear," Szayel gestured all around him, "Look for yourself. I've killed them all. There is only you," he came at her with his Zanpakuto, "And now, it is time for you to die, my sweet, wayward daughter."
Grimmjow moved to interfere, but there was suddenly a hand on his shoulder stopping him.
"We..." Stella continued, "Are stronger...You are afraid...scared...of us."
Szayel's eyes widened in surprise. Four newcomers had sonidoed to him and surrounded him, each aiming their Zanpakutos at him. Grimmjow had never seen any of them before, but he knew just by looking at their faces that they were the lost siblings that Stella had been seeking. There was a large rather unintelligent looking male who was more Nnoitora than Szayel, there was a tall, slender, and beautiful female, and there was a short and heavily built male that held a scythe resembling Santa Teresa over his shoulder, but it was the smallest and least impressive one that Szayel addressed. The one that reminded Grimmjow distinctly of a mosquito.
"What is the meaning of this, M01?" Szayel asked low and deadly, "I thought I ordered you to return to the hibernation chamber. What are you," he stopped and corrected himself, "what are all of you doing here?"
The mosquito hollow did not seem afraid. Hesitant, perhaps, but he did not back down.
"Unfortunately, there was a slight malfunction in my cell," he answered his queen coolly, "Well, not exactly a malfunction. You might want to call it-"
"-a revelation," finished the sibling with the scythe.
"We decided that you orders are more like suggestions, Your Majesty," said the big one.
"And that mother does not know what's best," the female stated cryptically. They all converged on their Queen, and fear flickered momentarily though Szayel's eyes.
"T01, B01, D01," Szayel commanded, "I order you to kill M01. Obey your Queen."
"They don't have to listen to you anymore," M01 spoke up at once, "I've reversed the tampering you've done on their minds. They are your slaves no longer. I am your slave no longer."
For a brief moment, Szayel looked rather stupid, standing there with his mouth open. He quickly regained himself, putting his hands together and applauding loudly.
"Bravo, M01. You always were the brightest of the bunch."
"Too bright, wouldn't you say?" M01 responded.
"Tragically so," Szayel said with a small chuckle, "You were destined for ruin, just like S01. I should have put you out of your misery sooner." At this, there was a ripple of anger in the reiatsu surrounding the mosquito hollow.
"I've come to realize that my misery ends with you!" M01 shouted. He drew his sword, "And that I was destined for this!" he slashed furiously with his sword and the others followed suit. Szayel was pushed into releasing his Zanpakuto and transforming into his more powerful state as he began to battle four of his children at once.
While the Eighth Espada was distracted, Grimmjow made his way to where Stella was lying on the ground. Her wounds were closing, but she was still gravely injured. Grimmjow had to lean in to hear her speak.
"Together...we are stronger," she stopped to cough, "And he knows this and fears us...but he knows us. He knows everything about us...and that makes it impossible to beat him."
Grimmjow turned his eyes to the fight once more and immediately noticed that she was right. The four siblings were holding their own against their parent, but Szayel was ready for every single one of their attacks and knew how to counter it. It was only a matter of time before they would all succumb.
Grimmjow put a hand on Pantera's hilt. He would have to step in.
Something grabbed his ankle, Grimmjow looked down to see Stella's fingers clutching his pants.
"This is," she wheezed, "our fight."
"Look," Grimmjow sighed, "I'm not just gonna sit here and watch all the little kiddies die. I'm here to kill Szayel as well."
"You will be met with the same problem. He knows everything there is to know...about Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," slowly, very slowly, Stella got to her feet, "The only way to beat him, is to do something that's never been done before," she drew her sword.
"Spin, Viuda Negra."
Before his eyes, she transformed. Her body elongated and she became spider-like, growing six extra arms. She wore a vest with eight gun slings, each containing a small needle-gun. Unfortunately, even in her released state, her injuries refused to heal. She fell to one knee and continued to pant heavily. She ordered Grimmjow to step out of the way and he complied.
Inhaling sharply, eight hands pulled eight needle-guns from their holsters and aimed them all at Szayel. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for an opening.
"Adios...madre."
She fired.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
Nnoitora had come, of course, to observe the battle. He had an army fighting in his name after all, but then again he'd never actually informed anyone of his coming. It was better this way. He watched quietly while Stella's eight poisoned needles each struck Szayel in a vital area. For a moment, the queen was simply shocked. Then, he was angry and he ripped each needle from his skin and renewed his fight. However, the damage was done and somehow all of them knew it. They simply dodged Szayel's attacks until the poison's effects began to manifest themselves and the Eighth Espada's limbs slowly began to fail him. Szayel fought the paralysis tooth and nail but there was nothing he could do. In the end, he fell pathetically to the ground.
The mosquito boy wanted to end him, Nnoitora could tell. The other children were just as savage and blood-thirsty. Killing was the only thing on their minds. What little monsters they were. Nnoitora could no longer resist the temptation to reveal himself.
His presence was like a rain cloud descending upon the desert. The little beasts stepped aside, staring at him curiously. Stella was the only one who knew both her parents. The rest of them had never laid eyes upon their sire. Oh, but they knew who he was instantly. They could feel it in his reiatsu.
"Leave us," Nnoitora commanded, "I shall be the one finish Szayel Aporro Granz."
Their curiosity changed quickly into fear and hostility, but none raised their voice in argument. Instead they collected their injured sister, Stella and fled. Grimmjow eyed him for a moment, but then seemed to decide that the job was done and he was needed elsewhere. He left as well.
Szayel was laying on his side, breathing erratic, shallow breaths, but when he sighted Nnoitora he turned into the feral beast he was, snarling and clawing at the dry sand frantically. Was he afraid or angry? Nnoitora couldn't tell. He'd never really seen Szayel experience either of the aforementioned emotions.
"How does if feel to finally be staring death in the face?" Nnoitora asked him, his voice in something of a sneer. The answer he recieved was a hysterical bark of laughter.
"Oh, it's not all that bad. My death will still be kinder than yours, after all. Rot away your remaining years and wallow in your misery," Szayel punctuated his last sentence by flinging a handful of dry sand at Nnoitora. The taller Arrancar wiped the grains from his eyes furiously and used Santa Teresa to pin his former mate's arm to the sand. Szayel hissed in pain.
"I thought we were partners," the scientist said, no sarcasm evident in his voice anymore. He was looking up at Nnoitora from his back, having finally given up his struggle.
"We were never partners. Partners don't try to kill each other," Nnoitora said, putting pressure on his weapon.
"You should have known that the price of fucking me is your life. If you give me your seed, you must also give me your flesh. A bug like you should know all about the rules of sexual cannibalism."
"I know, and that is why we ain't partners," Nnoitora reiterated. He got down painfully on one knee, so that he and the Eighth were eye to eye. He could spit right in the freak's face right now if he wanted to. He sorta wanted to. But instead... "we're mates," he put a heavy emphasis on the last word.
Silence hung between them for several long seconds as Szayel's animosity slowly lessened. He wasn't stupid. He understood. When Szayel spoke next it was in a weak, but oddly satisfied voice. The deal had been brokered.
"If you want to fuck me for the last time, perhaps you should do it now. S01's neurotoxin will leave me dead within the hour."
The words couldn't have been more arousing to Nnoitora's ears.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
The gates closed behind them, and Sol had the strangest feeling of apprehension in his stomach. This wasn't quite the same as the time he had passed from the Hueco Mundo into the living world. He felt a chill down his spine...like something was watching him.
"Where are we?" he asked Eiji. The boy was taking in his surroundings as well. Sol was forced to remember that all Eiji knew was what others had told him. They were going into this blind.
"This is the world between worlds," Eiji answered in a hushed voice, "It is the only way to get to Soul Society unless you have a Hell's butterfly. It is constantly being monitored so I suggest you hide your reiastu as much as possible. It is not uncommon to find Hollows here, but the sweepers take care of any intruders that linger too long," Eiji started forward, "Follow me. Our only chance is that my own reiatsu reads close enough to my grandfather's and they let us pass."
"What happens when we get in?" Sol wondered aloud, falling into step behind the human boy.
"Once we pass through, it is only a matter of time before they figure out I am an imposter and that you...well..." Eiji sighed, "I haven't thought that far, I guess," he gave Sol a look out of the corner of his eye. "I'll create a distraction. It will be up to you to break into the Central 46's underground prison."
"What if we fail?"
"Then I suppose we'll both probably be executed," Eiji said with a nervous laugh. His voice turned serious, "We have one shot at this. Let's make it count 'cause its my life on the line as well."
"Agreed," Sol replied. They walked on in silence. On and on and there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel. Sol was just about to lose hope when finally he found himself next to Eiji out in the bright sunlight, looking upon the grandeur of Seireitei.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
Scouring the ruins of Las Noches, Grimmjow called out to his mate with increased urgency. Each time there was no answer. He stepped over bodies and pools of blood. Scavengers lurked nearby waiting for their chance to feast upon the dead, but Grimmjow's reiastsu held them at bay.
"ULQUIORRA!" Grimmjow shouted. His voice echoed off the crumbled remains of what where once great, white walls.
"He calls for his mate," the anonymous whisper mocked, "But he'll find nothing but death at Las Noches."
Grimmjow ignored his rising fear and continued to search. Ulquiorra couldn't have gotten too far. The sky clouded over and the moon disappeared, shrouding the Hueco Mundo in complete darkness. Grimmjow finally sensed a weak reiatsu and followed it hurriedly to a small niche created by two cement walls that had fallen on top of each other. Inside he was met with sharp, green eyes. It was nearly too dark to see, but Grimmjow could smell the blood that he was kneeling in.
"You're alive," Grimmjow breathed, quite relieved.
"You told me to wait for you," Ulquiorra panted, "Here I am," he took hold of Grimmjow's arm in a fierce grip and pulled him in until their lips met. Grimmjow tangled his fingers in Ulquiorra's sweat-drenched hair and deepened the kiss.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
Nnoitora fucked that cunt of a scientist raw and bloody, seeing past everything that had happened between then and submitting to his lustful desires. Szayel clenched him with sickeningly pleasureful tightness as this, indeed, would be the last fuck of his life. Noitora fucked Szayel until he was half buried in the sand. The other Arrancar was staring up at him with yellow eyes that were becoming glassy when Nnoitora finally stiffened and spent his seed inside his mate.
"This is your chance to run," Szayel reminded him in a voice barely more than a whisper. Nnoitora only clenched his fists in the sand and kept his hot gaze on the former Eighth Espada.
"Do it. I'm ready," the Fifth said with finality.
"Very well," answered Szayel and his instincts took over. He bit into the flesh of Nnoitora's cheek and stripped it from the bone. It was excruciating, but Nnoitora only closed his eyes and let his mate continue. Bit by bit, the Fifth Espada was slowly eaten into. The flesh upon his neck, his chest, his face...were soon gone.
Unfortunately, the poison took Szayel before he could complete his meal. Nnoitora watched for a moment as his own blood dripped slowly onto Szayel's dead body. With a howl of anguish, Nnoitora took hold of Santa Teresa and plunged the scythe into his own chest. How shameful to have to die by his own hand.
With shaking fingers, Nnoitora brushed a few stray hairs off of Szayel's face. Darkness overtook his vision and he laid his head upon the Eight Espada's chest. He breathed his last.
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
The cloud cover lifted and Grimmjow, once again, was able to see. It was all he was able to do as Ulquiorra suffered greatly bringing their cub into the world. Ulquiorra refused most of his help, saying that he could do it on his own, but clearly, he was struggling.
For hours, there seemed to be very little progress. Ulquiorra changed positions frequently. He seemed almost embarrassed by Grimmjow's presence, but at least refrained from ordering him away. Then, Grimmjow could see the head of their cub emerging and his heart sped up with excitement. Even though Ulquiorra had not beckoned him, he came closer anyway. Ulquiorra reluctantly dropped his guard and allowed his mate between his parted legs.
Ulquiorra strained and let a few painful noises escape him as his body relinquished the child into Grimmjow's waiting hands. Grimmjow stared with awe at the newborn, a perfect replica of Ulquiorra. A boy. He could not help his excitement when the little cub began to squall.
"Look, Ulquiorra. He-" the words caught in his throat, "...looks just like you." Something was wrong. He did not like the way Ulquiorra was looking at the two of them with sad, weary eyes. Grimmjow furrowed his brow, concerned. He thrust the baby into Ulquiorra's arms.
"Look at him," Grimmjow ordered his mate. The tone of his voice had changed to deadly serious, "He needs you, so don't you even for a second think-" again the words got stuck. Ulquiorra calmly handed the child back to him.
"Name him something good, Grimmjow," the Fourth said weakly as laid his head back against the wall, Now, leave me in peace...for a while."
"NO!" Grimmjow growled, "No!" using the arm not holding the crying babe, he shook Ulquiorra roughly, "I'm not going anywhere! And neither are you!"
"I...love you too, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said with only a slight hesitation, closing his eyes. A lone tear spilled down his cheek, following the green trail already permanently engraved onto his skin.
This was real. Grimmjow suddenly decided. Ulquiorra was not going to listen to him. A horrifying feeling suddenly settled in his stomach. He removed his shaking hand as if burned. What about their promise? They were supposed to be together forever, as sappy as that sounded. They were mates for life!
Grimmjow was angry, and his shoulders shook with all his rage, but he didn't have the heart to take it out on Ulquiorra now. Not after he'd witnessed all the pain and suffering his mate had gone through to give him this cub. It wasn't fair! Ulquiorra could command him not to give up but now that Grimmjow knew the effort it took to give life, he couldn't find it in himself to order the same of Ulquiorra. With an angry snarl, Grimmjow stood up and left the shelter, cradling his tiny baby and willing the wetness in his eyes to abate.
It was drizzling. Water met sand and was drunk greedily into the dry ground. The baby's cries echoed in the silence.
Grimmjow's eyes widened. In all his anguish he had failed to notice what was happening outside. All around him were Hollows of all shapes and sizes and all power levels. Some were part of Nnoitora's team, worn and ragged. Some were Szayel's, noticeable in their uniforms. Some Grimmjow remembered fighting for Baraggon. Some Grimmjow was sure he'd never seen before.
"Bow before the new king of the Hueco Mundo," Stella's voice broke the silence, "Kneel! All of you!" and they did. One by one until they were all prostrate before him.
"Stop," Grimmjow said quietly, "Stop that!" his voice louder, rising to an angry growl, "I don't want this! Any of this! It was not supposed to be this way!" it wasn't. Everything was over. He was supposed to go home with Ulquiorra and the new cub and continue their simple life. They should be gone now, far away from the mess that Szayel and Nnoitora created and the politics of the Hueco Mundo's throne. Grimmjow felt like screaming, but it would not do to break down now. Stella, who was still injured and being supported by her siblings, broke away and limped up to him.
"Then," she spoke harshly, facing him, "What way would you have it, King Grimmjow? You and your mate have done the Hueco Mundo a service it can never forget. We are in your debt." For a moment, Grimmjow's eyes searched frantically and his mind raced for a solution. He could hear the child in his arms crying needfully in the background. Grimmjow's cat-like pupils came to a rest upon M01 and the others.
"You!" Grimmjow demanded, as he pointed to the five siblings of Szayel and Noitora's brood, "You whose blood is the same as Szayel's. Save Ulquiorra! Use your science and do whatever you can to save my mate," he gestured to the concrete shelter behind him. For a moment no one moved and Grimmjow could hear his own, anxious heart pounding in his ears.
Then M01 stepped forward.
"I will try my best," he said sincerely, and with Grimmjow's permission, ducked into the shelter.
Only to emerge not a minute later, looking quite confused. He addressed Grimmjow formally, "I am unsure what exactly you wanted me to do, My King. All of your mate's injuries have long since healed. If a little tired, he and your child seem in perfect health."
Now it was Grimmjow's turn for confusion. He reentered the shelter to find Ulquiorra, not dying in the slightest, but caressing the soft, black fluff upon the head of a tiny, female cub and cooing to her gently. However, when he noticed that Grimmjow had returned, he stopped and blushed crimson.
"You bastard," Grimmjow said with narrowed eyes, "I thought you were dying. I thought you were a gonner."
"I don't remember saying anything of the sort. All I asked was that you leave me in peace," Ulquiorra replied flatly.
"I assumed the worst! What reason could you possibly have had in telling me to leave like that?" Ulquiorra's blush did not leave him. He'd known what he was doing.
"I wanted to have the girl all to myself for a short period of time," Ulquiorra admitted, guilty. He returned his attention to the child in his arms, "She is my princess."
"You fucking-" Grimmjow was seething, "You've known all along that there were two."
"Perhaps." the smaller Arrancar answered him suggestively. His tone changed to that of the commanding Fourth Espada, "Now, we seemed to have attracted some unwanted attention. Go and deal with it, Grimmjow. I want us to be alone with our new pups."
"I..." Grimmjow began. He sighed and gave up on his tirade, "You're such an asshole."
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
"Empty," Sol said suspiciously as he concentrated on finding reiastu signatures ahead.
"Hmm," Eiji hummed, concerned, "This isn't right. The Central 46's building is supposed to have the tightest security in all of Seireitei. We haven't encountered anyone so far, and every door we've come across has already been unlocked. It's as if someone knows we are here and is trying to help us," Eiji reasoned.
"That, or someone merely got here before us," Sol said as he pushed onward.
"If that was the case, this place would be littered with bodies," Eiji replied with a small shudder, "No we definitely have a guardian angel here in Seireitei."
"Angel?" echoed Sol, "From everything your grandfather has said about Aizen, this angel could very well be leading us to our deaths."
"Ah," Eiji gulped, "That is true."
They turned corridors and descended staircases, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth. The spiritual restrictions that had been placed on this building were so intense that Sol could feel his powers dwindling to nothing the farther in they went. No prisoner, no matter how powerful, could escape from here, where even the smallest amount of reiatsu was sucked into the walls.
An old door, locked and chained. But this had to be the right cell. Sol put his hand to the lock and suddenly, with no key or combination, it clicked open. The chains slithered to the floor, making loud, clinking noises in the deafening silence.
"How did you do that?" Eiji whispered in awe.
"I didn't," Sol answered, now very nervous. He pushed the door in slightly and saw only darkness at first. Taking a breath, he entered the cell. It turned out to be a large, circular room. Seals, barriers and other Shinigami enchantments glowed all around.
In the center was a man. A very ordinary looking man who was thin and had stringy brown tresses that looked as though they hadn't been washed in decades. He was pinned to the ground in several places with a powerful seal. Sol didn't really know what he had been expecting, but the man hardly seemed dangerous enough to need all of these barriers. From the stories, he sounded much more frightening.
The prisoner looked up and Sol found himself caught in all-knowing brown orbs. Then the man spoke in a voice that raised the hair on Sol's neck
"They said that this place was impregnable, but they did not take into account the power of the Hogyoku."
Sol's eyes widened. He had forgotten about the little, glass ball his father had entrusted to him. He fished it out of his pocket. The prisoner's eyes lit up upon seeing the glowing Hogyoku. He smiled a warm, fatherly smile that did nothing to put Sol at ease.
"I knew you'd seek me out someday, my dear boy."
.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.
A/N: Right, so Stella uses a few Spanish phrases in this chapter and if you are a non-Spanish speaker (like myself) you'd probably be curious about what they meant.
The name of Stella's sword- Vuida Negra = Black Widow (one of the most poisonous spiders in the world)
"Adios...madre" = "Goodbye...mother"
Again, I'd like to say that this is the end, but I simply cannot stay away from this story. It fascinates me so. Review and demand more, or even suggest further plot ideas. Anything you want to see! If I like it, I will write it.
hasta luego