Sorry for such a late update! I tried to get to a computer as much as I could!

Warning: This is a very dark story. Not for the faint of heart!

Disclaimer: Bleach and all its characters belong to Tite Kubo!

Well, without further a do, let's get into it!-

The young recruits pretended to spare with one another, slowly swinging their arms in easily blocked movements. And though, they kept their eyes carefully diverted, it was obvious that their attention was completely on us.

Couldn't say I didn't want it that way.

Foolishly, I felt a strong need to prove myself. It had been a year since they'd last seen me fight, a year of thinking Sam was the strongest warrior in the Golden Army. And judging by Sam's own words, they were likely to believe that fighting me was to be easy- a day off. It would take only a few moments of Sam and I's fight for them to understand.

I'd practically grown up with Sam. And though he is two years older than me, he'd always had a young, childlike soul. His father- a member of the Kings Council, a heavy set man who always has a little bit of ale still glistening on his upper lip- had wanted him raised as a soldier. Sam put up a fight, wanting instead to run free, no cares in the world. That was until his mother died when he was 16. And if memory serves, she'd been walking through the lower end of the city, when she was robbed, raped, and then beaten to death. He'd found her body a week later, already beginning to decompose in a sewer canal.

For obvious reasons, Sam had never been the same. He'd grown years older in the course of a few days. He was quieter, more cynical and, in combat, completely unhinged.

I had always felt an attachment to him because of those changes. Though, I had always been a little aloof, I had been forced to grow up quickly too. Just at a much younger age. So, I understood the pain of losing your childhood, your innocent view of the world, in the blink of an eye.

But, as we grew, his idea of me had changed- as most men's did. I'd always slightly hated him because of it, for we had been companions in pain, allies in devastation, and then suddenly I was just a thing to take to bed. An object made up of skin and legs and breasts. I thought I had known what being alone was, but I'd never realized how my childhood friendship had kept me from drowning in isolation, until that too was stripped from me.

He'd taken something precious away. And I'd make him pay for it with broken bones and spilled blood.

We stood apart from each other, armed in nothing but our fists; my armor laying on the ground beside my mighty sword. I hoped he would land a few hits, he was no novice after all, and I couldn't wait to feel his blows connect. They would force me to feel something- anything.

"Don't go easy on me, Hime." He muttered, as his raised his fists slightly, moving them up to protect his chin. And I grinned.

"You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

And then I was there, my knuckles slamming into his undefended gut. On instinct, his elbow shot down but I was no longer within its range. I was behind him, my knee striking up into his spine. He grunted before swinging his tree of an arm around- I ducked under it easily. And flew my fist up, through his now open defenses, feeling my knuckle split as it cracked against his jaw.

Sam flew back slightly, his head spinning, but I didn't give him time to regroup, for in his confusion, he'd dropped his arms completely, and with no effort at all I reached up, wrapped my small, feminine hands behind his head- noting how soft his curly hair was- and brought it down with a forceful tug. He barely resisted at all before his face was connecting soundly with my rising knee.

Blood sprayed as he collapsed, falling to the earth like a sack of flour. He groaned as he laid there, his face resting against the stone.

I released a heavy sigh, turning to face the shocked faces of the young men- Hisagi the only one smiling- and tried not to be insulted. "I hope you all put up more of a fight."

Sam, turned over, choosing to lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Now I remember why I was so scared of you growing up." As he spoke he lifted a shaky hand to wipe the blood away from his bleeding nose.

Despite the chuckle I let escape me, I felt only immense disappointment. "You're still scared of me, big man."

He was about to respond, the corners of his mouth lifting into a devilish grin, when I turned away. Choosing to take in the recruits crowded before us, lazily looking at each one individually. Only two didn't shy from my full attention, Hisagi and a tall blonde boy, who stood behind the others. He was skinny, for his height, and his face was covered in blemishes.

He seemed like a good enough place to start. I walked into the herd, through towering bodies that parted, allowing me to pass. Until I came to a stop in front him. He looked down at me, and I had to crane my neck in order to look into his eyes. "What's your name?"

He rung his hands together, nervously. "Lonzor Merccari son of Kenway."

My ear buzzed at the name. "He's a soldier in the lower end of the city, correct?

"Yes, General."

I stared at Lonzor for a moment, wondering why he was here- if he had chosen this way of life. A life a bloodshed and ruin. Of orders and empty companionship's.

Judging by his clammy forehead and diverted eyes, I was going to assume not.

I jerked my head, "In the ring."

He slithered past his group. None of them moving to let him pass. An underdog if I'd ever seen one. I would see how much they had learned. I would see how much their bones could take before breaking.

When he was standing before me, his arms raised defensively, his form sloppy and disgraceful, I sneered, "Let us see what Kenway has taught you."

One hour. That's all it took, to get through them all. To beat them down until thy could no longer rise. My father would never accept them. And it would be i who took the brunt of his anger when he had to raise yet another squadrant to replace them.

That thought alone had made me more cruel; hitting harder, striking dirtier.

For there would be no fair fights, no rules of honor to protect them out in the slums.

And I screamed as much, when they were all broken and bleeding. "Weak! Useless! Who do you believe will stand between you and death? Do you think this will be a life of ease, of people being afraid of you because of the seal alone? Most of you have never stepped foot into the lower rim, you could not understand the desperation you will find there." I paced in front of them, Sam watching from behind me, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "And it is that very desperation that will bring them to you, that will give them the idea to slit your throats and steal the armor right off your back, so that their family's can have a roof over their head and food in their bellies. There will be no one to protect you except yourselves."

I stopped my pacing. And poured fire into my gaze, and took in them all, staring into the sea of multicolored eyes, until they all could no longer stomach the sight of the painful death that shined within them. "Yourselves. And your Brothers. The men beside you. You are competitors now, but do not forget these are the men who will be at your back in the coming years." I gestured to Sam behind me. "I would lay down my life in protection of Sam Cortland, and I would expect nothing less in return. So do what you wish now, claw and scheme your way to the top, but remember when the trials are done, all you will find is a vulnerable back and a sea of enemies."

My words shuttered and echoed throughout the Center. And they had not yet finished bouncing off the walls before a new voice overtook the room. "General, you're needed in the throne room."

I looked high, to the banister that overlooked the Center, and saw Devon staring back at me. And, just looking into his handsome, yet utterly bored face, I knew without having to ask who it was who had summoned me.

I knew I should have let myself drown in the tub this morning.

Without so much as another glance to the shameful recruits, I retrieved my armor and weapons, and stalked my way to the nearest stairwell. Merely nodding at Sam, trusting he'd know what to do. By the time I'd made it up the wide set stairs, and reached Devon, my armor was once again rested atop my shoulders and the recruits bellow were already on their second lap.

Devon began walking as I asked, "What does he want?"

"Can't say for sure, General. But I believe he wants to start the Gathering a few days early."

I started at that, "Early? For what reason?"

He didn't bother replying, and I hissed. No wonder the Southerners were here so ahead of schedule. Leeching parasites.

The rest of the walk to the Grand Throne room was silent, as our walks often were. I preferred it that way. My head was currently too filled with complaints and nasty words, for me to engage in pleasantries, anyway.

What did Clark have to gain by starting the Gathering three days early? What purpose did it serve?

The Gathering, a cordial event that happens every year during the summer, always sparked me as completely unnecessary. Where the rulers and generals from every Cardinal Point converge to offer their allegiance to my father and, by association, me. They usually bring gifts and other useless tokens, left at the foot of the Kings Grand Throne.

And now, due to my lovely Father's intervention, every citizen is to come and bring forth their own sense of allegiance in the form of money and jewels. I was only a young child when he'd changed the tradition, and even I could remember the wide spread panic.

For it did not end well for those who had nothing to offer.

We'd lost many lower rankers during those first couple of years.

Such a stupid, worthless tradition. Such a waste.

Devon and I broke free from the Military Wing and stepped into the shockingly empty entrance hall. The giant circular room, which was usual filled at all hours of the day, was totally desolate.

Our footsteps echoed off of the marble walls and pillars, creating a rather loud thump in my ears.

The throne room doors came into view and I took a deep steadying breath, straightening my spine before Devon placed his large hands over the pure gold knobs and threw the oak doors open.

The room was filled to the brink with people from all around the world, and they all turned and watched as I entered. Every single pair of eyes darting for me. I pretended I didn't notice them. Pretended I couldn't feel the oily gaze of all the men in the room, as they sneered and snickered over my tight fitting uniform. I felt their eyes fall to my breasts and linger, as if to try burning a hole big enough to see the skin beneath.

Disgusting, vile creatures.

But then, all else in the world ceased to exist, as my eyes darted ahead to the Golden Throne, to the King lounging across it, his crown perfectly balanced on his ash colored head. He had a sick smile on his face, like he too could see the eyes looking at me, savoring every Inoue feature. Like he too could feel the discomfort working it's way deep into my soul.

His smile only darkened.

And I suddenly felt like a sheep, locked in with starving wolves.

Uh-oh. What's mean old papa bear up to? Guess we'll just have to wait and see. Muahaha

Thanks so much for reading and please leave a review with any thoughts!

Till next time-