If there was something that Mayuri Kurotsuchi hated was to have his work interrupted by petty matters, a notion that in his mind encompassed almost everything that happened in the world outside his laboratory.
Now, he was right in the middle of one such waste of time.
Standing on top of a dune, the Captain fumed silently, only giving minimum attention to what was happening around him.
"So?!" He barked, without turning.
Nemu, idiotic, useless Nemu, appeared at his side a moment later, far too slow for his tastes.
"The scouts report no activity, taicho", the lieutenant said quietly, bowing her head.
"Is that so?" Mayuri glared at her. "Then send more!" He snapped. "Send the probes! Extend the network! Amplify the reception! Do i have to tell you everything, stupid?"
His lieutenant, or rather the pathetic excuse he had as one, bowed, murmuring her apologies, before drawing back.
Mayuri ignored her, returning his gaze to what he was watching.
Despite the distance, Las Noches loomed enormously, baffling any attempt to put it in perspective. In better moods, Mayuri's fertile mind would have entertained a couple of theories about the colossal structure: had the Arrancar built it? Maybe at the order of the so-called God of Hueco Mundo Barragan Louisebarn? Or it had reached its actual size under Aizen? And in either case, what had been used to build it? As much as the Shinigami knew, there were no rocks of great size in Hueco Mundo. So, how were those colossal blocks erected? More, the damages to the structure left by the earlier war; they seemed to have been repaired. Work of the Arrancar? Or something else? Maybe Las Noches was a fixture of that world, as much as the sand and the night sky, and as such, it was Hueco Mundo itself to fix it every time it was damaged.
That and more Mayuri would have thought if he was in good humor. But he wasn't, so no exciting, thought-provoking theory was followed.
The Captain of the Twelfth Division just fumed. So much time wasted! And he had so many experiments back home that required his attention! And then, why those old farts of Central had chosen him to lead that scouting mission? Didn't they know that a genius of his caliber wasn't to be interrupted? Yes, his Division showed efficiency that the other squads, with their pathetic methodologies, couldn't ever hope to achieve. Yes, the technology wielded by his division, which uses he had spread and standardized, allowed them to find and report things that the other primitive divisions couldn't recognize even if it hit them in the face. It still didn't excuse the gall of those ignorants at forcing him out of his laboratory to get back to that dump of a world. His last excursion had been enough. He had lost interest in Hueco Mundo by now. And what didn't interest him, it didn't exist.
Mayuri listened to his subordinates, scurrying out and about as they set new instruments and reported messages and whatnot. Slow, weak and pathetic. They were only as good as the bombs he occasionally implanted. He heard Nemu giving out orders with her stupidly flat voice and his annoyance redoubled.
"Surrounded by idiots…" he grumbled. Ah, if only there weren't stupid rules to limit his genius. Much could be accomplished between thick walls or in the intricacies of battle casualty reports, but to think that he had to be stifled…! To think of all the possibilities untouched because of laws given out by idiots…!
He needed to distract himself. He would tinker with some of his field equipment.
After some time, too much for Mayuri's tastes, the flow of reports from machines and flesh assured that getting close was safe enough.
Mayuri had brought a sizable contingent with him; specialists and warriors and support personnel, all of them present to minimize damage to his own person and to shorten the duration of that waste of time as much as possible.
The Shinigami made their way toward Las Noches on foot or aboard strange, levitating vehicles that their Captain had allowed to be brought out of his laboratories.
The one that Mayuri rode on was the largest, a building-sized behemoth right at the center of the formation, surrounded by all sides by the rest of the division, useful meatshields for all the Captain was concerned.
Mayuri sat on a throne, watching as Las Noches got closer. The distraction had done nothing to quell his bad humor.
He thought of himself as a disciplined scholar. Monday was testing day; Tuesday chemical experiment day; Wednesday was dedicated to research on live subjects; and so on. The schedule was set in stone, as it had to be. Results could come only by perseverance after all. The only deviations allowed were when he was hit by inspiration, or when he was blessed with an interesting specimen.
The thought brought to his mind the image of a certain human woman he had met some time ago, during the ryoka invasion of Seiretei. His annoyance skyrocketed instantly. Such a gem… lost! And he had offered her such good conditions! What more could she hope for? Filthy, greedy human… he had tried to come up with ways to grab her, but the war had made it impossible. Such a disgrace!
His thoughts strayed toward the companion of said woman, a Quincy, a filthy scum with the sheer gall to… to…
Mayuri inhaled sharply, forcing back the rising anger with easiness born out of habit. Quincy? What Quincy? There was no Quincy. He had exhausted that avenue of research, so the Quincy were as good as dead for him… no need to think about them anymore…
Moving on to more pleasant subjects, now that the attention had shifted, nothing made it impossible to grab the woman. Because of all the bumbling done by the other divisions during the Arrancar war, the Central showed him a lot of favor recently. He could cash in on some of that to arrange a quick and quiet snatching. Now, if only that half-shinigami boy wasn't protected by his troublesome father…
"Mayuri-sama?" Nemu's interruption called him back from his thoughts.
"What now?" He sighed. He was so tired of that girl, always bothering him…
"Can i ask a question, sir?" Nemu bowed.
Too tired to answer, Mayuri gestured for her to go on.
"Thanks, sir". The lieutenant straightened herself up, fixing him with her clear, expressionless aquamarine eyes. "Do you foresee some danger in this mission, sir?"
Nemu. So typical of hers to make stupid questions. Mayuri felt the sudden urge to slap her.
"Did our readings tell us of a surge in reiatsu?" He hissed through gritted teeth.
"No, sir".
"And have our readings told us of enough reiatsu gathered in Las Noches to warrant some danger?"
"No, sir".
"Then you have your answer, idiot! Don't waste my time!" He didn't resist the slapping urge this time.
The lieutenant was back in her prim, straight-up position half a moment later, only a few hairs out of place and a bloodied lip to show that a blow had happened.
"I understand. I am sorry, Mayuri-sama".
Mayuri sniffed indignantly. Sorry indeed. Until the next lack of respect. He was so damn tired of that girl!
Noticing as her gaze strayed, a devious smirk stretched on his face.
"Do you like your siblings?" He asked pleasantly, eagerly leaning forward.
He didn't need to turn to know that right behind his seat, five young girls stood at attention. All of them wore tunics of sterile white and vacant expressions; and all of them were the same exact replica of Nemu, only younger.
A twitch passed along her expression. Mayuri latched on it with wicked glee.
"Of course, Mayuri-sama", she said with the barest hint of a tremor in her voice. "Like all your works, they are exceptional".
Exceptional. If she had said "perfect", he would have hit her. Sneaky bitch. She was getting far too devious for his tastes.
Mayuri leaned back on his chair. "Repeat the first lesson i taught you", he commanded.
Nemu started intoning with barely a pause. "This world is divided between experiments and experimenters, and the line between them is only a matter of power. All the experiments try to drag down the experimenters and take their place, something the experimenters can stop only by constantly pushing the experiments down. As long as you are an experimenter, the experiments are at your mercy, you be used and disposed of as you wish. As long as you are an experiment, you don't matter and can be disposed of at any moment".
Mayuri nodded slowly, slightly annoyed that she had repeated all of his words precisely. Well, even a lame horse can learn to run after enough lashes.
"Exactly", he said. "And now that there are replacements for you… keep that in mind, more than ever…" He let the words linger.
Nemu watched him for a moment, unblinking and tense. "Yes, Mayuri-sama", she said, bowing stiffly.
Mayuri smiled and patted her on the head, then sent her way. When he returned back to his seat, he was in noticeably better humor.
"That girl, seriously…"
She tried in her own way, he supposed, but there was no solution at being slow and stupid, regretfully. And… he guessed that he was tired of always having her around.
She was supposed to be his greatest triumph, a powerful embodied soul engineered by his own hands, the final proof of his superiority over him. And instead…
He sighed, resting his forehead over his hand. A Captain-level soul, produced in a laboratory and easy to replicate. What a world-shaking success! Ah, the notion alone was enough to make him shiver in ecstasy. And instead, he got that pathetic wimp, unable even to produce a zanpakuto, let alone a shikai. What a joke!
Mayuri shook his head, refusing for his good humor to go sour again. A failure was only a step toward success. Nemu had given him valuable insights, the same that helped him birth his latest creations.
He turned, looking at them with pride. Obviously, Nemu had no actual chance to be better than those improved models. How a failure like her ever could?
Along the years, he had always entertained a certain unwillingness at disposing of her. He supposed it came out of his childish side. Eliminating her would mean accepting the failure. Now? He felt only a tired annoyance. He was so damn tired of seeing that reminder of his past mistakes…
"As my skill grows, so i do as well", he murmured, patting the heads of his experiments with fondness. A true creator had to outgrow his failed creations. It was inevitable. And he was a true creator.
Mentally, he was ready, and the chance was there. Yes, it was high time to dispose of that failure of his. It would have been easy.
He was an expert after all.
Las Noches welcomed the shinigami with a yawning gate that could have swallowed the tallest towers of the Seiretei and then some. There was no door: it should have been mountain-sized to fulfill its duty, and that place didn't seem to admit barred doors.
The contingent stopped in front of it, received some more scout reports, then resumed its advance. Mayuri gave his assent halfheartedly. All that talk of Arrancar resurgent, it was nothing but the work of overheated barbarian brains anyway. But they were there, might as well see everything. Who knew, maybe there was still something vaguely interesting to scavenge.
The contingent was swallowed by the mastodontic gate, leaving the dimly lit night of Hueco Mundo for the dusty darkness of Las Noches.
The shinigami lit reiatsu-fueled lamps, showing light over an expanse of sand and massive white walls that disappeared into the darkness above. As everything there, the corridor was colossal in proportions, dwarfing their contingent. Still, they weren't intimidated: they had their instruments to tell them of eventual enemies. And nobody dared show hesitation with their Captain present anyway.
Mayuri didn't care about the atmosphere of silent antiquity that hung over the place; he kept his column moving at a steady pace.
Eventually, the sand gave way to a vast ramp of stone that led the way steadily upward. The shinigami made their way on it, their vehicles softly humming in the silence. At regular intervals, they met with patrols of scouts that gave reports and joined the column.
Nothing to signal, and so they proceeded.
They met Arrancar and Hollows, of course. That was always Las Noches. But they were stragglers or little groups of weak specimens, nothing that the shinigami couldn't handle quickly. Mayuri didn't even need to get involved. Honestly, if he did, he wasn't sure he wouldn't have killed some of his subordinates out of sheer outrage: they needed to be able to do something!
The ramp ended in a massive gate, only slightly smaller than the outer one. Crossing it, the shinigami entered a great empty hall, its proportions matching what they had seen already. More scouts waited there, standing guard over an advance post.
His cheek resting on a closed fist, Mayuri rolled his eyes as his subordinates swarmed down from their vehicles, hurrying to unload the equipment. That point was roughly halfway along their chain of scouts. Rather than continuing and risking the unknown, they would set their detectors and scan for gatherings of reiatsu. That they wouldn't obviously find anything didn't seem to be enough of a reason for sparing him from that waste of time. Really, that Aizen, he could almost be envious at how he had treated the previous Central…
Nemu had the dim idea to dutifully keep him informed over the entire progress of the operation as if he cared. Thankfully, he had other things to keep him distracted, mainly which parts of her daughter would be useful enough to repurpose. Mh, the brain, or the spleen…
As time passed, the network was installed and nothing noteworthy happened, Mayuri found his thoughts drifting in the same direction they always went when he had nothing to keep himself occupied: his present life, and how he had come to it.
Honestly, it wasn't bad. In fact, it was great. From a convict in that dreadfully dull prison - from which he had taken him out - to a third seat - working under him - to the captain of the Twelfth division - after he had disappeared -, all in the span of less than a century. Not many captains could flaunt such a rapid advancement. If one thought about the massive leaps in technology and methodology he had brought to the division, even that whiny pup Hitsugaya's nomination became nothing special.
He should have been satisfied. He deserved it after all of his hard work. And yet…
He remembered an idiot, with a mop of unruly blonde hair and a captain saori that obviously didn't belong to him. He remembered him smiling idiotically while showing some incredible piece of technology that not even he, Mayuri Kurotsuchi, could…
His latest sutures started to itch. Gritting his teeth, he brought a hand up and furiously scratched at his cheek. It always happened when he thought of him, of his sloppy methodology, of his lack of bravery, of his pathetic morals… and yet, and yet…
"You never were a true scientist", he hissed. "And yet, why, why were you so good? Why were you better… better than…" He couldn't say it. Anger choked him. Hatred and envy were like a living thing inside of him, twisting and writhing.
He was the one with the true mind of a researcher, he was the one that did what that one never dared, not even conceived. And then why, why, why was he always second? Why every time that he sent his drones to spy on him, he found that he had done something incredible? Why must he always surpass him?
"NEMU!" Mayuri screamed, slamming his fist so hard on the armrest of his throne that the material cracked.
The lieutenant was there in a flash. Mayuri hit her with a snarl and not a word, with enough strength that the girl flew to the ground.
"It's your fault!" He screeched, kicking her savagely. "Why didn't you come out as i wanted? Why are you less than those two pathetic wretches that he has created in that hole?! I made you with the cutting edge of technology, with the best of the best! Why did you fail me like this?! Why must you be such a failure?!" She didn't react, didn't even try to shield herself from his kicks. She could recognize how much she deserved it at least.
Eventually, it disgusted him even to keep hitting her.
"Get up!" He barked. "I didn't make you so weak that you can't take so little! Get up!"
She obeyed, staggering back at her feet, dripping blood all over the floor.
"Get out of my sight!" Mayuri screeched. His creation! Ah! So pathetic! "You disgust me!"
Nemu still managed a trembling bow before limping away, making sure to keep her gaze down.
Mayuri watched her go, emotions still raging inside. She was going to die that day, he decided. He was going to bury that failure and start anew, with a better model, one that wouldn't disappoint him so completely.
He buried his face in his hand, willing himself to calm. Something resembling it arrived only after a minute or so, and he could finally think straight again.
"I let myself get worked up too easily when it comes to him…"
That man was a worm, inconsequential, a relic of the past. He was the Captain now, he had power and control, while that man was buried in his shitty little shop, playing shitty little experiments. He had the laboratories, the facilities, the subordinates, the materials. That man had nothing, he was nothing. Mayuri repeated those words to himself again and again, obsessively. He did so until the last shred of the mad rage that had seized him slunk away, leaving him feeling at ease.
It was true after all. He sat on that throne, he and nobody else.
"This is not good", he chided himself. "I really need to learn to control my temper". He chuckled under his breath. Oh well, let some steam out from time to time did well to the soul.
Feeling in good humor once again, he entertained the thought of field testing some of the experiments he had brought with him. There was plenty of time to decide how to make Nemu disappear. Until then, he was going to profit from what he had.
He chuckled, crossing his fingers together. "Soon, very soon, we'll see who's the better one, Urahara Kisuke".
And there was no doubt about the answer.
Quickly and efficiently, the shinigami of the twelfth established a new camp. While equipment and scientific tools were set, hell butterflies were set free and more squads went out to join the scouts already on the field. There was little about reiatsu that the tools of the Twelfth couldn't pick up: the soldiers were more to keep the main group wary of dangers than to provide additional data.
Mayuri left the work to his subordinates, preferring to review the minor subjects he had brought with him instead.
He was adjusting the prosthetics of an ex-soldier when word of trouble reached him.
"What kind of trouble?" He asked, glaring at the Seat that carried the news.
The shinigami hesitated, not because of being the target of his attention for once. "You… you need to see it, Captain".
Mayuri did so, grumbling and cursing about the uselessness of everyone around him all the way. He brought the majority of the guards with him, leaving only a skeleton crew and the scientific teams to work the instruments.
A small group of wide-eyed scouts led him and his escort down the hall and into a corridor. As they walked, walls and ceiling curved inward, tightening the passage until it turned from colossal to simply very spacious. Eventually, they emerged into a gargantuan hall, the effect made even more prominent from the fact that they emerged into it suddenly. The hall was empty and featureless like the rest of that place, with one glaring exception. A massive door stood in front of them, blocking the way out.
Mayuri's eyes narrowed as the scientist was brushed by a spark of curiosity. A door in Las Noches?
He gestured for his escort to follow.
The floor sloped gently upward, ending in a dais that could have doubled as a city square. As he stepped over it, Mayuri noticed only in passing the strange glyphs and swirls etched on its floor. His attention was all for the large group of his subordinates arrayed in battle formation in front of the door, his useless surrogate daughter leading them.
No, he corrected himself a moment later. They weren't facing the door, but rather the individual that guarded it.
The Arrancar was a true giant, standing as tall as the likes of Komamura and Kenpachi, robust and heavy-set. He wore heavy armor composed of a material that looked like a mix between white stone and bone. His mask enclosed his head like a helmet, with two horns curving back into sharpened tips; the lower half of it was punctured by a series of little holes, divided in two half by a single band of rigid material. Two rectangular slits above it shone with emerald glows. He held a massive weapon: a broadsword, that, strangely, had no point; instead, it ended in a flat side.
A guardian?, Mayuri wondered.
Slow as usual, Nemu noticed his presence only then. Something that could be concern flashed across her eyes, and she darted forward to attack the Arrancar.
Devious bitch, Mayuri thought bitingly, trying to put up some scene in front of him?
Pleasantly, she didn't get far. Her kick was blocked by the flat of the sword, the blow sending ancient dust raising from the floor. She twirled in the air, bringing her hand down in a stabbing motion, but the Arrancar just grabbed her wrist in a massive hand, turned around and threw her away like a sack of trash. The momentum was such that she barely managed to regain her balance a moment before slamming into the floor, transforming what could have been a ruinous landing into a skidding halt.
Good, Mayuri thought, that's what you get for trying to show off, you failure.
She looked ready to try again, but Mayuri held a hand up, stopping her. She hesitated, wild worry running in her eyes for a moment, before relenting. She dropped her head down and stepped back.
Ignoring her, Mayuri advanced toward the Arrancar, that had already retaken his original position.
"Dear, oh dear", he said, buoyed by that little show. "And what could you possibly be doing, Arrancar?"
The Arrancar didn't answer. Silently, he watched him.
"The strong, silent type, mh?" Mayuri wondered. He rubbed his temple with a finger, a gesture that always came naturally to him when he needed to think. "Are you guarding your lair, maybe? Or did Aizen leave you here and forgot you? That's what happened? Are you a dog still waiting for his master's return?" He left the question hanging, waiting for an answer.
The Arrancar watched him.
"Speak already, cur". Mayuri's narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He offered that scum some leverage for putting her failure of a daughter back in her place, but even his patience had a limit. "What's your point being here?"
An almost imperceptible movement rippled across the Arrancar's frame as he shifted his stance a tiny bit.
When he spoke, his voice sounded like it was coming out of a deep pit.
"Your kind is not welcome here, Shinigami", he said. "Get back".
"Ah, so you have a tongue", Mayuri said bitingly. He calmed himself. "A guardian then", he said. "How very interesting. Do you guard the dust? The sand? Ah, don't you know that i have already scouts behind this point? Didn't you guard against those?"
This time, the Arrancar replied only after a short pause.
"They are lost to you", he rumbled. "I let them pass because they don't matter. What i wanted was the head of the snake".
That sent murmurs across the listening shinigami.
Mayuri narrowed his eyes. "Pretty smart for a Hollow", he hissed. Then, more pleasantly: "But have you been thinking this through, i wonder…" His instruments didn't talk of any dangerous gathering of reiatsu in that area, and the quantity released by that brute at that moment wasn't anything concerning. Honestly, what was that idiot even thinking?
"I am no Hollow," He declared matter-of-factly, slamming the flat tip of his blade against the floor. "I am Arrancar. I serve Sol-sama". He spoke with a martial, no-nonsense attitude.
Mayuri registered the names, but they didn't say anything to him. That Sol-sama especially. It sounded like something worth exploring.
He threw an annoyed glance toward his subordinates. "Well? What are you waiting for? Attack!"
The barked order snapped them back to attention. Nobody wanted to look slow in front of their ruthless captain, so the shinigami attacked swiftly, all at once and with no hesitation, shouting together.
They were barely halfway when the Arrancar let out a mighty shout. A wave of reiatsu exploded out of him, sending the attackers flying like a bunch of ragdolls.
To Mayuri, it felt like a strong breeze, but obviously, he thought, as he angrily slapped a flying body out of the way, none of his subordinates was good enough to resist a stiff gust of wind.
It was simple, really. No matter what one tried, you always emanated a certain quantity of reiatsu. It was an unconscious process, akin to breathing. Once it was picked up, one could make an educated guess about the maximum power of the individual in question. That Arrancar right there? Slightly above lieutenant level. No more.
"Don't screw with me", he ground out. "Get up!" He snapped, turning to Nemu. "Attack and take him out!"
Her daughter obeyed right away, darting out as swift as an arrow. She attacked with an almost desperate resolve, her hands and feet blurring in a barrage of blows. All for nothing. The Arrancar took them all with his armor and the flat of his sword, before pushing out with both arms. Nemu flew off, twirled in the air, landed, and attacked again.
Eyes wide with focus, she raised a hand crackling with energy. She ducked under a backhand swipe, then thrust her hand against the Arrancar's stomach. There was a blast of light, and the Arrancar grunted. But then his hand darted out, grabbing hold of a startled Nemu's shoulder. The girl gasped and struggled, but his hold was like iron. With a grunt, he threw her away. This time, she didn't manage to control her momentum on time, or at least, she didn't manage before Mayuri decided that he had enough of all that. The Captain gestured sharply, and a small figure darted out from behind him. The nemu-clone kicked her predecessor, sending her tumbling in the dust. Nemu gasped and panted. Trembling, she tried to get back up. She had almost got on her knees when her clone stomped on her side, making her scream in pain.
"Useless bitch", Mayuri snarled. "Can't even take down a peon". That was the last straw. He was tired tired tired of her, of her failures, of her constantly letting him down. He was done. Done! "Stay down", he hissed. "Stay down and rot. I don't need you anymore".
The gaze she threw him was pleading. It only made him angrier. Only idiots pleaded. And he hadn't made an idiot!
Until the last moment, she lets me down…!
He averted his eyes from her with a growl. A failure, that's what she was. And the past. He didn't even want to see her anymore!
Instead, he turned to the four clones, respectfully waiting behind him. The sight immediately cheered him. That's what success should look like! Powerful, obedient, silent! Ready to follow his orders and to execute them well, for a change.
Mayuri rubbed his hands in glee. He nodded to number 1, that still had her foot over his previous failure. She nodded and stepped off the failure. Nemu laid unresponsive, her gaze glassy and lost.
Mayuri had already forgotten her.
"You're lucky, Arrancar", he began, his voice silken. "You'll get to participate in the first test fielding of my latest works. It's a great honor", he pointed out, in case the idiot missed it.
The Arrancar didn't seem to be listening, his glowing eyes fixed on Nemu's fallen form.
"Is this how you treat your own, shinigami?" He asked, turning to him. There was a mild curiosity in his voice, alongside something else Mayuri couldn't quite pin down. Outrage? That'd be the day.
He sighed, trying his best to ignore the impudent stupidity of the question. Of course, he offered a part in great scientific advancements and all he got another idiot asking stupid things. It truly seemed to be his destiny…!
Still, he felt in such good spirits that it didn't matter. Really, he felt free, as if a weight had been taken away from him. Ah, wonderful!
"Shall we?" He said. "Get him".
The five clones exploded into action. As one, they dashed forward with such momentum that Mayuri's captain cape billowed in the wind left by their passing. Their sister joining them, they quickly surrounded the Arrancar, moving so swiftly that their feet barely touched the ground. From his part, the Arrancar stood still, following their movements only with his head.
Mayuri hummed, playfully wondering with which tool to begin. "Uhm, let's see…" Ah, so many options… "Ah, i got it". He snapped his fingers. "Let's start with zanpakuto deployment".
He barely had finished speaking that the clones threw out their right hands. Fingers melded into one and lengthened, turning into sharp blades.
Mayuri tittered in excitement. Zanpakuto were the souls and power of a shinigami given form. They said that they couldn't be created in a laboratory. Fools. If one could create a soul, it was only a matter of work and skill to create a zanpakuto as well. And so, shinigami were born, better than the ordinary rabble in any way.
The clones attacked with perfect coordination, seeming to dance rather than fight. They pirouetted and dashed around the Arrancar, attacking him like a swarm of bees could attack a bear. Their blades hit him all over and soon his armor was marred by a multitude of scratches. The Arrancar whirled around, trying to grab and hit, but his diminutive enemies were too quick and elusive, always staying a step ahead.
Or that was what it seemed to happen.
Suddenly, the Arrancar turned, stepping in the way of an attacking clone. His massive hand closed around a thin neck, and he slammed the clone on the floor. He lifted his sword, but then he stopped, glaring at the little girl. She only watched back, green eyes wide and inexpressive.
"This…" He rumbled. "This is a child". This time Mayuri didn't miss the faint note of incredulity in his voice.
He almost guffawed in disbelief there and then. An Arrancar with morals? Now that was something to savor.
"Capture", he ordered with a smirk.
The clones exploded into action once again. The one pinned down grabbed hold of the Arrancar's arm, while the others exchanged their swords for chains that lashed forward.
The Arrancar let out a deep hum as the chains twisted around his body. They rushed like snakes, grabbing hold of all his limbs, especially his sword arm. The clones grabbed hold of the chains, forcing him to step off their sister, restraining him. The Arrancar didn't let go of his sword but was completely immobilized.
Humming pleasantly, Mayuri stepped forward, eager to meet and hear from such a strange specimen.