The Quincy army spilled out of the walls of the Wandenreich, flooding the streets and alleys of the Seireitei. The forces set up by the Shinigami to watch for the attack were easily overwhelmed, and the fighting quickly spread. It did Bazz-B's heart good to see chaos envelop the enemy's home base.
Weapons clashed and men screamed, creating the symphony of death and destruction that he was promised when he first joined the Sternritter. It took too long to get to this point.
Way too long.
He laughed, burning through the Shinigami like prime tinder. It was so satisfying! Hollows never burned like this; they were more like garbage, filling his nose with a dirty, rotten stench. The Shinigami cooked. The stench of burning flesh was seasoned by their screams. It was such a complex sensation, saturating his nostrils, tongue, and throat. The pungency of a body being burned to ash, and the satisfying smokiness when all there was to burn was expended made his mouth water. He wasn't a cannibal, but he could see himself giving it a shot after all of this was over.
Perched atop one of the taller buildings, he scanned the area. Last time, he missed his chance to take on one of the Captains. Who would have thought that attacking one of the freaking barracks would have left him empty handed? It was bullshit! What kind of leader just goes off when most of his forces are holed up in the base? Well, he wasn't going to let history repeat itself. This time, he'd take a fine-toothed comb to the entire Seireitei until he found an opponent that could get his blood pumping.
He kept his senses wide open, watching for sudden, drastic shifts in battles all around with his eyes, and feeling for exceptionally powerful foes with his spirit. He cast a wide net, so there was no way he'd miss out this time!
Even with his senses poised to pick up every little ripple, he couldn't pick up anything. It was like they were avoiding him! Were they scared? Oh no! Not the guy that devastated the 3rd Division barracks! We can't handle somebody that strong . . . or something like that. What a bunch of cowards! "Guess I'll have to make them deal with me."
Bazz-B stepped off the edge of the building and fell towards a cluster of Shinigami running by. He landed on them with a burst of fire that left nothing but a charred crater behind.
It was way too easy.
If he didn't find someone worth burning up soon, he might have to reconsider his plans. You couldn't well become a gourmet if you lost the taste for what you were consuming.
He surged forth, bursting through walls and buildings, and leaving a smoldering trail in his wake. Shinigami screamed and Quincies cheered. It wasn't so bad, but who could be satisfied with that? He didn't want 'not bad', he didn't even want 'good'. He wanted 'freaking awesome'!
"There!" His entire body tensed up and he dug in his heels, stopping in a spray of molten rock. Finally. Finally! There was no mistaking that sensation. There was someone really strong fighting nearby. Oh, they weren't making a show of it, but he could tell. He let his Reiatsu swell and then released it in a brilliant burst of flame. Some of his allies got caught in the flash, but a little sunburn wasn't going to kill them. And who really needed eyebrows?
Warning sent, he blasted his way through every obstacle that stood between him and that powerful Shinigami. His body felt almost as hot as his flames as he burned through everything in his path, walls and bodies alike. They were so close!
Just one more wall . . . and there! He emerged onto a wide road grinning like a fool, but he couldn't help it. He was going to prove his worth this time. There were a few rank-and-file Shinigami gathered here, but they weren't what he was looking for. He barely caught sight of a white-haired shorty and a couple of massive knockers before another wall sprang up from nowhere.
"Ice, huh? That's pretty neat." Bazz-B raised his hand and the wall melted away in a burst of steam. "Looks like I'm a pretty bad match-up for you. Too bad for you, pipsqueak."
The kid was wearing one of those white blazers, so he was a Captain. A little off putting to have to kill a kid, but that was life sometimes. The more pressing issue was whether or not he'd be a satisfying opponent.
Bazz-B's crossbow appeared in his hand and he took a Hirenkyaku enhanced step, sending himself past the regular soldiers and landing just behind the Captain and his partner. He immediately aimed and loosed a bolt at the kid's heart.
The little shit's body blurred as he spun, sidestepping the attack. Before Bazz-B could correct his aim, the kid's sword flashed, slicing through the end of the crossbow. A cloud of what looked like dirty snow took the rest of the weapon as well as his glove.
Bazz-B leaped back, "Whoa there! That was an impressive response, kid. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, though, considering your rank." He flexed his bare hand, and took stock of the many tiny cuts that now covered it. He eyed the woman standing next to the little Captain. "So, how strong are you compared to the other Captains? Like, am I gonna win a medal when I kill you, or am I gonna get scolded for wasting my time on small fry?"
The Captain sighed and turned to his partner, "He definitely used a fire-based ability just now, so we'll go with the mixing plan."
"Got it." The woman nodded, never taking her eyes off of Bazz-B. That was an impressive level of discipline for some who looked like a floozy. He was beginning to feel like an idiot for making so many assumptions. If he wasn't careful, those incorrect assumptions might get him killed.
"Not even gonna talk to me? That's real cold . . ." Bazz-B waited, but would they take the bait?
The squirt's face twitched, but he kept it straight. "Just my luck. I get to deal with a real idiot. Matsumoto!" A pillar of ice erupted from the Captain's sword and shot straight for Bazz-B. Hardly an issue. He raised his hand and applied a little heat.
The ice melted well before it reached him. He charged through the cloud of steam it left behind and brought his flame-wreathed heel down over the kid's head. As expected, the brat deflected the blow, producing another burst of steam. It was starting to get real humid around here.
"That ice isn't gonna work!" Bazz-B ignited his body and pushed into the Captain's defenses. He wasn't too good at this hand-to-hand stuff, but with his power it hardly mattered. The sheer heat would drive even a skilled opponent back no matter how clumsy his punches and kicks were.
His potency showed as the Captain was forced to retreat in desperation. His ice wasn't strong enough to withstand The Heat, and he didn't seem to know anything more than defensive sword techniques. This had to be a joke! Did they force this poor kid to the top because he had a little talent or something?
It didn't really matter, but that did mean he was going to have to deal with this quickly and find a real enemy to defeat.
No point in dragging this out any longer, then. "Sorry, pipsqueak, but I've got things to do. Go ahead and burn to death for me real quick!" Bazz-B mustered up a hulking body of flame and launched it at the young Captain. A wall of ice rose to intercept, but that wasn't going to cut it. "Desperate moves like that only make you look weaker!"
The body of flames slammed into the ice wall with a loud sizzle and a thin veil of steam escaped into the air. He should have heard the kid screaming before the fire engulfed his lungs then, but no other sounds came.
"What the hell is this?" Bazz-B's fire flickered and dissipated well before reaching the white-robed brat. It didn't even manage to melt through the wall all the way! He could clearly see the Captain standing confidently through the ice, so it couldn't have been all that thick. "This isn't funny, kid! Have you been holding back on me?!"
"Of course I have. Only an idiot charges in all guns blazing right from the start. I've just been buying time so far."
His partner appeared, "The area's clear. And I see your plan worked out just fine."
Bazz-B started and looked around. The regular Shinigami were indeed gone, leaving this avenue empty aside from himself and the other two. So that was their game . . . "Don't tell me; you were holding back so that the troops wouldn't get caught up in our fight? That's some weak shit, man."
"Call it whatever you like. I wouldn't expect you to understand our priorities. "I'll be counting on your support from here on, Matsumoto." The little Captain raised his sword and a jagged frozen spike shot out from the blade. At the same time, his partner's sword produced more of that dusty snow. The ice and dust mixed, and when it reached the sturdy wall, a much larger spike shot out.
Bazz-B moved reflexively, raising his hand and producing a shield of fire. If they thought things would change just because they could fight freely, then they were in for a rude-
The ice hissed as it cut through his shield and pierced his shoulder. The spike carried him through the air until he crashed into a wall, knocking the wind out him. He gasped, reeling at the pain. Their attack managed to sink into his flesh before he could activate Blut Vene, but it wouldn't go any further. Still, it hurt like hell!
"You piece of . . ." He grit his teeth and pressed his hand against the spike. A blast of fire should have destroyed it completely, but even after a few bursts, it was still there, albeit smaller. "What is this shit?! Why can't I melt it?!"
No, that wasn't the issue here. He was melting it. So why?!
"Flames of that caliber will never defeat my ice." The Captain approached like a real cocky prick. Somehow, the utter lack of expression on his face was worse than if he were enjoying himself. "But to answer your question, we're making use of vacuums."
"The hell does that mean?" Bazz-B growled. He was thankful for the delay, though. As long as he was pinned down, this little brat could probably end him. Working slowly, he applied heat to the end of the spike.
Captain Shorty nodded to his partner, "By combining my ice with my Lieutenant's ash, we can create thin gaps in the structures I create. When she retrieves her ash, those pockets become micro vacuums. Whenever you melt away one thin layer of ice, your fire is extinguished by the sudden absence of air."
Just a little more . . . "You sure you should be giving me so much info?"
He shrugged, "You knowing how it works doesn't change the fact that your flames can't get through, so I don't see a problem."
"That so? Well, thanks for the heads up, idiot!" Bazz-B swung his arm, crushing the weakened spike, freeing him. Before he even touched the ground he was preparing his attack. Flames enveloped his body, hot enough to melt rock. He gathered them up into his hand, and as soon as he touched down, he unleashed a powerful blast at the Captain and his Lieutenant.
The little guy didn't blink as the fireball bore down on him. That was fine. If we wanted to die like a lump, then so be it! The fire engulfed both Shinigami, surging over and around them as well. There was no way to escape. It was over.
A hissing sound escaped from the blaze, and before Bazz-B's eyes could widen in shock, the fireball broke apart into wisps that quickly vanished.
The Shinigami were fine, protected by a dome of ice that resisted the flames with ease. "I told you, it won't work." Those eyes . . . how could he have called that expressionless? He didn't look angry or pleased, but they pierced Bazz-B as well as that spike had. No! He wasn't afraid of this little runt. He was just a little shocked. That was all!
"You know, I'm curious," the Captain said, raising his sword. "This technique is fairly new, so I'm not entirely sure how powerful it really is. Shall we find out together? How deeply can this vacuum-laced ice cut?" He swung, and a razor-thin wave of ice shot out of the dome. It moved so quickly that Bazz-B couldn't react. It struck his shoulder, throwing him back against the wall and holding him there once again.
He winced at the pain, but he was better prepared this time. The cut was shallow. The bigger problem was the state of his arm. It was frozen, outstretched, in a thick block of ice. The cold leaching heat from his body was almost more painful than the fresh gash.
"That's one down. Great job, Captain." The Lieutenant's voice reached his ear-the other one was frosted over, he realized-speaking as if the fight was over.
The Captain himself seemed to agree, "Don't go congratulating me this early in the game. There's still fighting all over the place."
"Shall we go lend our assistance to the other battlefields, then?"
Who did they think they were dealing with? He was one of the Sternritter. He was an elite, chosen by Lord Haschwalth personally! He wasn't about to disappoint the people who recognized his strength.
"Hey!" Bazz-B shouted, getting the Captain's attention, "Who do you think you're using as a test subject? You think you can just push me down and walk away?" The Heat filled him with warmth, melting the frost creeping across his body. The block holding him to the wall held strong, but that was about to change. "I'm just getting started, you little shit!"
Power filled him, collecting in his core and funneling into his frozen arm. Enough space opened up around his hand for him to curl up his fingers.
All but two.
"Burner Finger Two!"
+ Shift +
The Quincy flexed his fingers and the ice holding him exploded. An whip of fire shot out, ripping up the street and melting stones all around. The explosive power battered Tōshirō's body, throwing him back a good distance. He wasn't down for the count yet, though. The damage he took was negligible. That was him, though. "Matsumoto! Are you alright?"
His Lieutenant lay nearby. She wasn't moving, and there was blood streaking her face, but she was alive. Once again, he had failed to protect his subordinates. He'd criticized the Quincy for going so hard at the start, but they wouldn't be having this much trouble if Tōshirō had done the same.
No point in beating himself up now. He made a mistake, now he had to live with it. Carefully weaving a protective dome of ice over Matsumoto, Tōshirō turned to face the mohawk-sporting Quincy.
"Not gonna run? That's good! I was worried you'd turn tail once I made you eat your words." He laughed like a maniac. It fit his image.
"Bankai." Hyōrinmaru's icy claws wrapped around Tōshirō's arms and legs, and he sprouted wide, crystalline wings. A trio of ice flowers formed overhead. He wasn't sure how well Daiguren Hyōrinmaru would fare against this guy's fire-the only real difference between Shikai and Bankai was the amount of ice they could produce-but he didn't have the privilege of running away. Not with Matsumoto incapacitated.
The Quincy eyed him, "Ahh, the fabled Bankai. Very nice. Doesn't look that much stronger, though. Let's test that out, shall we?" He raised his arm, pointing, "Burner Finger One." A narrow, white hot bar of fire shot out of his outstretched finger, crossing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. The beam struck one of the icy petals over Tōshirō's head, destroying it easily. "Not looking good for you."
Tōshirō frowned. Those petals weren't particularly durable. Normally, they would melt as he fought, and when they vanished, he'd be hit with a rebound. It was a minor detriment, only seeing him unable to fight for a few minutes at most. They were meant to disappear, but he'd never seen one destroyed by an outside force.
He shifted his feet, positioning himself in one of the basic sword stances he had recently been practicing. Hyōrinmaru's ice was his strong suit, but it wasn't going to win him this fight. He'd need to rely on the skills he'd only just started honing. Still, he was confident. Raising the blade over his head, he gathered his power and focus. Swinging, he unleashed a sharp wave of ice.
The attack slammed into the Quincy's heat with a loud pop. He managed to stop it, melting the ice before it could reach him. Barely.
That was a good sign.
Without Haineko's ash, Tōshirō would have to produce the micro vacuums in his ice manually. Not an easy task. The focus granted by his sword practice made it possible, however.
As if abiding by an invisible signal, both Tōshirō and his white-clad opponent leaped into motion at once. The Quincy retreated, flinging sweeping bursts of flame as he tried to widen the gap. Tōshirō faced these bursts head on, fearlessly charging through the heat. He was at a disadvantage at range, so he needed to get in as close as possible. If the enemy couldn't be frozen, then he had to kill him using the blade.
The Quincy looked shocked as Tōshirō cut through his fire within striking distance. An intense whip of fire threatened him from the side, but the enemy was on his back foot. Tōshirō stomped hard, driving himself forward before the whip could strike. At this distance, the Quincy would have to strike himself to get to Tōshirō.
He swung, bringing his sword down from over his head. The blade trailed ice and steam as it chopped through the barrier of heat surrounding the enemy's body, aiming for the neck.
"Burner Finger Three!" Bars of light shot out of the Quincy's other hand, boring into the ground. Suddenly, the earth beneath their feet melted, becoming a molten pond. Hyōrinmaru cut through nothing as the Quincy sank into the near-liquid rock.
Thick flames erupted from the suddenly volcanic stones, singeing Tōshirō's haori. Flapping crystal wings, he pushed himself away from that deadly terrain. The Quincy stomped his foot, sending jets of fire and molten rock spiraling up after him. Kicking through the air and deflecting any streams that got too close, he dodged through the barrage collecting burns and blisters all the while.
He spun, whipping up a storm of hail that fell to counter the torrent coming after him. The air filled with steam which quickly turned to a hot rain as pressure from both powers pushed against each other.
The Quincy charged through the drizzle with a Shunpo-like speed. A blue-white crossbow appeared in his hand and began firing thick bolts of energy that carried a surprisingly devastating punch. Deflecting one, Tōshirō's guard was thrown to the side, opening him to a more direct shot. He barely managed to avoid a direct hit, but a bolt grazed his side, sending him crashing down.
He gasped, pain shooting through his body both from the glancing blow and the hard landing. His ribs were broken, at least two of them. Just from making contact.
Tōshirō struck the ground, erecting a barrier of ice all around him as more bolts fell. They punched through, but only half way. He swung his sword and the barrier exploded, sending frozen shrapnel into the air.
The Quincy kicked off quickly, but not before a few shards sank into his flesh. He melted them, leaving bloody holes behind. Still, he wasn't slowed in the slightest. If anything, he became more aggressive. Balls of fire began to fall in concert with the rain of bolts, forcing Tōshirō to go on the defensive fully. He retreated, throwing up complex walls of ice to intercept pursuing attacks.
The fourth and final petal on the first ice flower melted away. That wasn't right. They shouldn't have been disappearing so quickly! He'd trained specifically to increase his stamina following the fight with Aizen. Was this enemy's heat that intense?
Tōshirō erected a series of walls, hiding himself behind several thick layers. Setting his stance, he prepared to launch a massive surprise attack. As soon as the first wall fell, he'd put as much ice as he could muster into a sure-kill counter.
A narrow bar of fire pierced every wall and punched through Tōshirō's body. He screamed at the agony of it. The beam hadn't hit anything vital, but it was so hot that his insides were horribly burned. He needed medical attention. He couldn't keep fighting like this!
The walls of ice melted away, revealing the Quincy, cracking a cocky smile. He wagged a smoking finger. "Forgot about my Burner Finger, huh? That's no good, squirt." He stood in the air, looking down at Tōshirō, who was struggling to stand, hand clutching his side. "Well, it was fun. You might not be worth a medal, but I'll get a commendation for sure. So thanks for being strong. Burner Finger Four."
The Quincy's body ignited, scorching the ground directly below him. That fire grew until it extended well past the boundaries of his body, touching blackened earth. Then, with a flick of his wrist, that fireball began to condense. It drew in, wrapping around his arm, and coalesced around his wrist.
He clenched his fist and the dense ball stretched and extended, forming a fiery blade that was easily twice as tall as he was. "Here's hoping the next Captain I fight can manage to make me use all five fingers." He raised his arm, pointing that terrible sword straight up. Tōshirō could tell just how destructive that thing would be. It made his blood run cold despite the heat.
He had to stop that sword from being swung! He never trained in sword techniques that could be used on one's knees, but he adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword anyways. There was no room for doubt. This was life or death. He prepared to expend every last bit of power he possessed to kill the man with the mohawk. Failing that, he needed to at least be able to counter the destructive force of that flaming sword.
The Quincy's body moved as if in slow motion. His hips turned, his abdomen twisted, the muscles in his shoulder and arm contracted. The blade started its descent.
There wasn't time!
A powerful mass of Reiatsu crashed down between them, throwing up a cloud of dust. As the air cleared, a hairy, thick fingered hand emerged, palm outstretched up at the Quincy. A moment of apprehension and surprise turned into a sinking feeling as Tōshirō recognized the identity of this intruder.
With a white uniform stretched over a hulking back and features that could only be described as gorilla-esque, this was the Quincy that he fought, and lost to, when the war first began.
"Hold it right there, Bazz-B." The gorilla Quincy's voice was deep and rumbling. He managed to speak eloquently despite his pronounced overgrown canines.
The man with the mohawk adopted a scowl, "Huh?! What the hell do you think you're doing, Guizbatt?! I'm in the middle of something here!"
"Actually, I was in the middle of something. I was fighting this little one before you."
'Yeah? And why should I care? It ain't my problem if you couldn't kill him on the first pass."
"I beg to differ," the ape-man, Guizbatt, chuckled, "Think about it. If Lord Haschwalth found out that you stepped between a comrade and their adversary, and then stole the finishing blow, what would he say?"
The other Quincy flushed, "What are you even talking about?! Aren't you the one butting in on my fight?"
"It is as I said before. I was the first to engage with this enemy, and since we both still live, the battle continues. He's mine, Bazz-B."
The flaming sword shrank until it fizzled out entirely. The Quincy Tōshirō had been fighting, Bazz-B, bared his teeth. "So if I kill you right here and now, he'll be up for grabs then, right?"
"We both know what the punishment for killing a comrade is." Whatever that meant, it seemed to work. Bazz-B's shoulders jumped and his scowl transformed into a nervous frown. Guizbatt clapped him on the shoulder as he touched down. "Good man. I'll make it up to you somehow once this is all over. Count on it."
"Whatever." Bazz-B brushed off the other Quincy's amiable gesture and stalked over the Tōshirō. He knelt down, bringing his face close. "You better win, kid, so I can come back and finish you off." With one last dirty look, he stood and disappeared, probably off to find another fight.
Tōshirō set his sights on the Quincy who took his place. Guizbatt . . . the ape-man who so thoroughly defeated his Zanpakuto, stood before him once again. He stood, wincing at the pain from his side and falling into a basic sword form for the stability more than anything else.
"You're looking better than when I last saw you, child." Guizbatt stood a good distance away, stretching his arms. He seemed confident, bolstered by his earlier victory, no doubt. He was going to regret that.
Daiguren Hyōrinmaru wasn't going to be of much use against this opponent, he knew that from experience, but that was precisely the reason he sought to refine his skill with the sword.
This time, he was going to pierce that defensive technique and make this ape-man bleed.
The Quincy's face started to morph, looking more and more like a gorilla each second. There was no time to rest and recuperate.
Only six out of twelve crystal petals remained.
+ Break +
"The fighting is spreading quickly." Nanao read the report with an even tone despite her concerns. As expected of Shunsui's ever reliable Lieutenant. "In addition to the initial charge from the enemy's base, several large detachments have appeared all around the Seireitei."
"And our forces? How are they faring?"
"As well as can be expected under the circumstances. Our preparations are showing their worth."
Shunsui bobbed his head. The time between the first invasion and this second invasion was well spent, then. The information gathered on the enemy's power allowed the Seireitei's researchers to develop countermeasures that Squad Zero mass produced. With better equipment, the playing field was far more level than it was before. That only left the officers. "What of these Sternritter? Have any of them come out to play?"
"Captain," Nanao sniffed, "don't you think you're a little too relaxed? We are under attack." A dismissive wave earned another sniff, but she continued. "But yes, Quincies possessing power great enough to be considered special threats have been reported on several battlefields. There are more than we originally estimated."
That was a problem. There were only so many Captains to go around, and they were spread thin enough as it was. With old Yama, Unohana, and Kuchiki gone, and Jūshirō unfit for battle, they were down to just nine. And that was ignoring the fact that, as the Captain-Commander, Shunsui himself needed to remain in a command position except in the most dangerous circumstances.
Eight active Captains against well over a dozen Captain-class enemies. What a mess.
Shunsui adjusted his hat and breathed deeply, looking out over the smoldering landscape. They didn't have room to take it easy. "Nanao-chan, relay these orders to the Captains: I know you all will do whatever you please regardless of what I say, but heed these words from the Captain-Commander. Prioritize the defeat of the enemy and the protection of the Seireitei. Even if it costs you your life or the life of your subordinates. The Quincies must be destroyed."
Nanao hesitated. He could practically feel the apprehension radiating from her. "Captain . . . are you sure this is what you want to say right now? Antagonizing the Captains seems like a misstep."
He sighed, "This message doesn't mean exactly what it says. I'd like to be more direct, but as long as the Central 46 is around, I have to choose my words carefully. Keep up appearances, you know?"
"But-
"If I said, 'to hell with the Seireitei, watch out for you and yours,' those stuffy higher ups would have my head. I trust the Captains to understand my meaning. It'll work." He turned to her, trying for a relaxed, reassuring smile, but it couldn't have been that effective. She still looked worried.
Still, she turned to send the message. It would have been nice to rely on more remote forms of communication, but-
"Wait, Nanao." Shunsui beckoned her back, forcing the sudden concern from his voice. She complied, back stiff. "Go ahead and erect the barrier."
Nanao dropped, slamming her hands against the floor. Her Reiatsu pumped through the boards and up the walls, and a nearly invisible wall appeared, bisecting the Captain-Commander's quarters.
Footsteps. Shunsui held his breath. There was someone there, just outside. Whoever they were, they were very strong. How did they manage to get so close without notice? Nanao was trembling, but she held the barrier firm. He felt a surge of pride despite the dangerous situation.
Maybe he was too relaxed.
A figure draped in white appeared in the doorway and approached without breaking stride. The guy was confident, that much was certain He stopped just short of the barrier, hands behind his back. With a sculpted calmness he regarded the barrier, and the half of the room it protected, taking in every detail, it seemed. That stopped when he made eye contact with Shunsui. "I take it you are the new Captain-Commander, then? Not quite the image I would associate with such an office." He opened with a jab at his appearance? A man after Shunsui's own heart.
"And you would be the number two of this invading force, right? You fit the description Kenpachi gave us. Something about some small fry buzzing around the leader?" The mask cracked. It was only a little, just a small twitch, but it was enough to tell. This guy was a powder keg.
Shunsui breathed a sigh of relief. Truly stoic people were the hardest to deal with, and this guy wasn't one of them.
The Quincy cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "I am the Grandmaster of the Sternritter, Jugram Haschwalth. I come to you bearing the will of His Majesty Yhwach. Surrender, and die peaceful deaths, or face our wrath."
"Don't mince words, do you?" Shunsui chuckled, resting his chin on interlaced fingers. It was a bitter sort of mirth. Politics was his least favorite game, and it looked like the Quincies were intent on playing it. "We refuse, but you knew we would. Why bother with the diplomacy act if you intend to wipe us out?"
"We fight for the good of all life. It wouldn't do for our actions to come across as needlessly barbaric. What would our children think if their everlasting peace was brought about without some attempt to resolve things nonviolently?"
"So, with a lame attempt to make peace you make us out to be the warmongers. Real clever. Only makes me a little queasy." Shunsui appraised the man in white from beneath the brim of his hat. What was his game? If his true purpose was to simply deliver a message, then he could have sent a disposable minion to do the job. Furthermore, a message like this could have been communicated without them speaking directly. "Are you going to tell me what you really want, or did you just come to chat?"
The Quincy, Haschwalth, smirked, "Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 . . ." he fingered the hilt of the saber hanging on his hip, "In a sense, your position is similar to my own. His Majesty is the de facto leader of the Wandenreich, but I helm our military force. You lead the Shinigami in battle, but you answer to a higher power."
He was talking around the point, trying to lead Shunsui into a trap of words. He was after information, then.
"I keep track of my subordinates, as is befitting of a true leader. Can you say the same, Shinigami?"
"Maybe I can, and maybe I can't."
"For your sake, I hope you can. Tell me, do you know the location of one Captain Ukitake Jūshirō?"
Shunsui glanced at Nanao. It was a brief gesture, over in a blink, but he was sure of their understanding. She was competent enough to infer his orders. The other Captains needed to know that the enemy was after Jūshirō. "Sorry, can't say that I do. Our Captains, they do what they want. Go wherever they want. Whenever they want. And you know my memory isn't what it used to be."
The Quincy's expression darkened. "That is a shame. I had hoped to resolve this meeting without bloodshed.
"That's a bold faced lie if I've ever heard one!" Shunsui laughed. "You were planning on killing us from the start whether you got what you came for or not."
Haschwalth scoffed and drew his saber. "I intended to make sport of you with a little banter for a time before, but since you are so eager to see your end, I am compelled to oblige."
Shunsui glanced at Nanao. She was sweating, and for good reason. As the one maintaining the barrier, she would be facing the brunt of the coming assault. Her determination was clear, however, and her skill second to none. The barrier would hold. Still, he held his breath.
Haschwalth swung, his arm a blur, and a sharp scraping noise filled the chamber. Nanao flinched, but as expected her barrier stood unblemished. Suppressing the urge to sing her praises, Shunsui smiled to himself. Beyond his Lieutenant's excellent performance under pressure, they had witnessed the potency of their anti-Quincy measures.
"What is this?" The Quincy leader growled, his expression becoming more grim.
"Exactly what it looks like; a shield that is attuned to defend against threats from Quincies, no matter how strong."
Haschwalth's eyes widened. "That is preposterous. Such a thing cannot exist."
"And yet it does." Shunsui smirked, preparing to twist the proverbial knife, "We learned a lot from our first clash. Your powers, the exact nature of your Quincy attributes, were on full display, and we managed to snag numerous samples. Preparing something of this level was a walk in the park with so many resources." They had managed to weave this technique into the Shinigami's uniforms with the help of Shutara Senjumaru, but that was mostly it. In truth, they'd only managed to produce barriers this powerful on a small scale, and only expert Kidō practitioners like Nanao could make them work. It was a dangerous bluff, but he had a feeling it would work out.
The serene mask held for the most part. Haschwalth's eyes and mouth regained their graceful, smooth lines, and his breathing was calm. It was a shame about those flaring nostrils, though, and his voice revealed just how far the cracks had spread, "I should commend your efforts to resist, futile as they are. You make an admirable show of it. However . . ." He snapped his fingers and another foreign Reiatsu appeared just outside the chamber.
A tall man in a crisp white uniform marched in, his boots clicking against the floorboards. His oily looking hair, combed neatly to one side, combined with his pinched, narrow face made him look like a snake. And although he wore a pair of round glasses that obscured his eyes, it was easy to tell that his gaze was harsh and predatory.
"All Quincies possess a very special ability," Haschwalth said, his tone growing more venomous. "We can draw Reishi from our environment and repurpose it for our own use. For most, this offers a small boost in performance in areas of high Reishi density. More powerful practitioners, however, are able to draw in copious amounts of ambient energies, resulting in the breakdown of structures and even creatures made up of spiritual particles. This," he waved his hand to the newcomer, "is the Wandenreich's most powerful practitioner of Reishi enslavement. I will be leaving you in his care. Don't disappoint me again, Quilge."
The new guy bowed deeply and held that position until Haschwalth was out of sight. When he straightened, he wore a strained smile. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain-Commander." He even sounded slimy.
"I'm sure it is . . ." Shunsui leaned back in his chair. This Quincy was a good deal weaker than Haschwalth. Were they underestimating the strength of the Shinigami, or was there really something this man could do that would pose a threat?
Quilge stepped forward and inspected the barrier closely, dragging his fingers across its surface. "This is quite the extraordinary construction. Its form is so delicate, yet it holds a tremendous strength and complexity, like a piece of armor made of intricately interwoven metal rings. It even resists my pull on its Reishi. I must express my gratitude to Lord Haschwalth for granting me this opportunity."
He stepped back and his power suddenly surged. Shunsui sat up, alarmed. This power still wasn't anywhere near the level of their leaders, but it far outstripped the Quincy that Shunsui defeated during the initial invasion.
The chamber around the Quincy began to grow fuzzy, as if its existence was somehow becoming less certain. That fuzziness grew more pronounced as it approached Quilge. The boards around his feet started to come apart, bits and pieces lifting and being drawn into some kind of . . . void. As the absence grew, Quilge's power did the same. He sprouted grand wings of blue-white energy, and a pointed halo materialized over his head.
Shunsui stood, moving to guard Nanao. He was still confident in the strength of the barrier, but he was getting a bad feeling.
The chamber stabilized as the Quincy's power reached its apex, though many surfaces were still frayed. Quilge took a deep breath. He stood straighter and he seemed to fill out his uniform better than before. He returned to the barrier and placed his hand against it. "I shall partake of this feast," he said, licking his lips.
Nanao gasped and Shunsui spun to check on her. Her face was pale, her skin clammy. She was trembling, looking down at her hands in disbelief. "What's wrong?" Shunsui knelt down, gripping her shoulder. But she just kept staring. "Nanao!"
She looked up, terror in her eyes. "He's taking it. I can't stop it!"
Taking? Taking what? Shunsui's eyes widened as he understood. He spun, drawing his swords. He'd let his shock at the Quincy's power-up distract him, but now that he looked, it was obvious.
Quilge was absorbing the anti-Quincy barrier!
He needed to tell Nanao to drop the shield, but before Shunsui could get the words out, the barrier shattered.
"Ah, what a magnificent gift! Truly exquisite!" Quilge stepped past the threshold where the barrier once stood. Shunsui tried to nudge Nanao back, but she seemed exhausted all of a sudden. Had draining the barrier drained her as well? "Not just Lord Haschwalth, I owe you my thanks as well, Shinigami!" A saber appeared in Quilge's hand and a mysterious spiritual pressure coalesced at its tip.
Shunsui raised his blades to defend, but when the strange stark white power released it did not reach him. Instead, it exploded well before making contact, splitting and stretching into a web of thick tendrils that enveloped him and Nanao. The attack congealed, forming a cage.
"It's better than I had hoped!" Quilge shrieked, running his fingers through his hair. "With the power of that barrier, not even a Quincy could escape from my Jail! It is perfect!"
Shunsui struck at the bars of the prison, but his slashes failed to leave so much as a scuff on the surface. As far as the cage was concerned, it was like he hadn't attacked at all. He lowered his blades. No point exerting himself for nothing. "How are you doing, Nanao?"
"I'm . . . I must admit that I'm still shaken, but I'm better than a moment ago." She breathed in deeply, holding the breath for a moment before releasing it slowly. What did Shunsui do to be blessed with such a level-headed Lieutenant? "So, what do we do now, Captain-Commander?"
A good question. He hadn't assigned any guards beyond what the 1st Division could spare, so they couldn't count on back-up arriving any time soon. Though, if anyone was left to offer assistance, they probably wouldn't stand a chance against this enemy. The Quincy was pacing, admiring his work from a variety of angles.
"Well," Shunsui grunted, sitting on the ground next to Nanao, "I don't see a way out of here, so let's sit tight and see how things play out."
"You can't be serious." Her eyes drilled holes in the side of his head, but he was, in fact, completely serious.
"If you have a better idea, then be my guest." She huffed and puffed at that, but offered no alternative. She was as bright as they came, but sometimes a puzzle refused to be solved. In times like these, it was best to go with the flow.
So he sat and waited, watching the Quincy prowl back and forth. What was he waiting for? They were trapped. Vulnerable. They were completely at his mercy, and yet he did nothing to finish them off. Did he doubt his ability to do so, or . . .
This prison was impenetrable from the inside. From his wording before, it seemed that it could hold anyone but a Quincy prior to his absorbing the anti-Quincy barrier. With that new power inside him, it could be said that he possessed the greatest single sealing technique. But what if it worked both ways?
It wasn't that he didn't have the power to kill them. He couldn't even get to them.
Shunsui couldn't help but laugh at that. "Hey warden, aren't you supposed to be executing the prisoners? I'd hate to see you disappoint your boss again."
A startling clang filled the prison as its creator struck the bars. "Hold your tongue, you filthy mongrel! I am free to dispose of you in whatever way I please."
That was surprisingly easy. "I hope you don't expect us to starve in here. I don't think either of us has the time for that."
"Quiet! I could end your lives in the blink of an eye. I hold your very existence in the palm of my hand!" He struck the bars again; whatever intimidation he had achieved summarily ruined.
"Nanao-chan, how long do you think we could last in here as is?"
She tilted her head, working through the numbers seriously. "Without water, I imagine we could last three or four days. Longer if we sacrifice a limb or two along the way." Nice Nanao-chan! Her super seriousness really helped this time!
Quilge was fuming. He must have realized that Shunsui understood his limited ability to harm them by now. Breathing heavily, he stalked up to the bars of his cage and removed his glasses. Glaring with strange, striped eyes, he growled, "Joke while you can, Shinigami. It will make your screams that much sweeter." He opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything, something grabbed his attention.
A small group of powerful Spiritual Pressures was closing in on the 1st Division barracks. Shunsui smiled. "Looks like you took too long, warden."
The far wall exploded inward, pelting the prison with large chunks of stone. Quilge cut down debris that fell towards him, and that left him wide open. Captain Muguruma appeared through clouds of dust, slamming his fist into the Quincy's side, and sending him through the opposite wall. The two Lieutenants from the 9th Division followed suit, taking places on either side of their Captain. The cavalry had arrived.
What a relief!
Shunsui chuckled, a great deal of tension melting away. "Your timing is impeccable, Captain. I hope we didn't take you away from something important."
"Not at all. I was keeping an eye on the 1st Division in case this very thing happened. I don't intend to lose another Captain-Commander so soon after the first." He approached the cage and inspected it closely.
Shunsui shook his head. "It's no good, I'm afraid. This thing is pretty much invincible."
"We'll see about that." Muguruma cracked his knuckles. "Mashiro, Shuhei, I'll leave the Quincy to you. Take him out and bring this barrier down. If I manage to break it myself first, you'll be getting extra hard training for the next month."
"Wait seriously?!" Lieutenant Hisagi stumbled, but threw himself outside with a desperate intensity. Lieutenant Kuna followed closely behind, looking much too excited.
"Now then," Muguruma raised his fists and shifted his weight, "bear with us for just a while longer, Captain-Commander, Lieutenant Ise; We'll have you out of there in short order." With that, he started punching. The impacts rang out, carrying the intensity of the blows through the air.
Shunsui sighed, but sat back without speaking. No point trying to argue with someone as bull-headed as Muguruma Kensei.
So he relaxed and considered taking a nap. He could let the monotonous-albeit ear-splitting-pulse of Muguruma's fists lull him to sleep. If they had been imprisoned with his desk, he could have hurried the process along with a drink. If he were still Captain of the 8th Division, he might have done just that.
But the Shinigami were at war. Battles were raging throughout the Seireitei as he waited to be freed. What kind of leader would he be if he dozed off in the middle of all this. And besides, he had certain matters to occupy his time. Specifically, there was a question that he needed the answer to.
Why were the Quincies after Jūshirō? His old friend had been acting jumpy after old man Yama's death. Perhaps it was time to find out why.
Shunsui sat, back straight and eyes forward, as he resigned himself to this task. The first thing he was going to do when he got out of this cage was hunt Jūshirō down and demand an explanation.
He would get one, one way or another.
Not as Jūshirō's friend, but as Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13.
+ Break +
Ichigo grit his teeth as he maintained his posture. Sweat trickled down his face and neck, but it was not the oppressive weight of Ichibē's spiritual pressure that was bothering him. He could feel the battles taking place all around him. Reiatsu exploding out from numerous battles hit him in waves, driving home how slow this final stage in the training was progressing.
"You've gotta be kidding me!" Renji barked, already halfway to his feet. He glared up at the 0 Division's Head Priest. "The fighting's already started! We can't just sit here anymore!"
Ichibē shook his head. "You were told from the start that this was a possibility. I apologize, but you must remain here until we are finished."
"We were indeed told that this might happen," it was Rukia who raised her voice this time. "However, we were also told that we could leave at any time. You can't keep us here if we choose to cut our training short." She stood, the strain seeming much less apparent than when they first entered the Density Chamber. Renji stood right after her.
Ichigo hesitated. He agreed with them, obviously, but he couldn't get Ichibē's warning out of his head. Leaving before the training was finalized could leave them exhausted, or, in the worst case, their souls could be stuck in such a volatile state that they wouldn't be able to fight at all. It was a big risk.
But it might be worth it. He only arrived in Soul Society after the first attack, but he saw all too clearly the devastation the Quincies could cause. Rukia and Renji had experienced it firsthand.
"This is foolishness. You must know this." The intensity of Ichibē's admonitions shook many of the smaller trinkets on display. Still, he never looked angry. "Once again, I implore you to stay and finish your training. At the rate you've been growing, it should only take a few hours more."
"That isn't fast enough! While we're sitting pretty here, our comrades are being slaughtered! You think we can simply meditate knowing that?" Renji stood and took a step towards the bearded monk, shaking his fist.
Rukia smoothed her robes. "We appreciate the effort you and the rest of the 0 Division have put into our growth," she said, keeping her tone under control, "but I'm afraid our time has run out. Please do not try to stop us." She started for the door. Renji fell into step behind her.
As they passed, Ichigo could feel their conviction. He rose to his feet and turned to follow. They couldn't stand by while their home was being threatened, and he wasn't about to wait around while people he knew, people he considered friends, fought for their lives.
"If you leave now, you will die." Ichibē's voice stopped all three of them in their tracks. He wasn't pleading-Ichigo wasn't sure the guy was capable of doing that-but he was firm. He wasn't presenting a possibility. He made it sound like a certainty. "Your souls are close to stability, but they are not there yet. If you exert yourselves, the strengthening you've been subjected to will unravel, and your very souls will shatter. You will die, and no one will be saved. Is that truly what you want? If you can say yes, then I will delay you no longer."
He couldn't know for sure that would happen. In battles like these, the threat of death was always present. They always managed to pull through, so why should they hang back now? Ichigo took a step.
Then he remembered.
Even if he didn't die the way Ichibē said he would, what would happen if he lost his powers in the middle of a fight? What if he lost them between fights?
His thoughts settled on a memory of his mother. Thinking about her situation as a whole, she lost her life because of that one reckless move she made when saving Isshin. He felt terribly guilty following that reasoning, but it was the reality. A reality that he could be on the verge of facing himself.
If she hadn't invited that strange Hollow to attack her, she wouldn't have been injured. Kisuke wouldn't have had to step in and Isshin wouldn't have had to cancel out her powers with his own. She wouldn't have died that day on the river bank if not for that one reckless decision.
On the other hand, Isshin might have died if she hadn't stepped in. Ichigo might not have been born at all. Both decisions bore tremendous risks. They also carried life changing possibilities. It was like both paths were set on a scale and neither outweighed the other.
Both were valid choices. But what about the choice Ichigo had to make right now?
He could stay and finish his training, ensuring his strength going forward while others fought and possibly died. If he left now, risking his ability to fight and his life, he could intervene in battles and potentially save someone who otherwise would have lost their life. He wanted to be able to fight as long as possible, and he didn't want anyone to die.
Taking a deep breath, his thoughts returned to his family. His sisters and dad were waiting for him back home. Could he leave them behind to maybe save someone in this war? He breathed out.
In all of his fights, he had the option to run in blindly and he usually did. And every time he got his ass kicked. How many times did he almost die trying to help his friends? How many times had he just barely been bailed out?
When Rukia was being taken back to the Soul Society, he could have died. Right then and there. Both of their lives could have been over. All because he charged ahead recklessly.
He was about to do it again. Kurosaki Misaki gave her life to protect her son, and he loved her dearly for it, but afterwards, she wasn't able to protect him anymore. He didn't want an end like that.
"Fine. You win." Ichigo turned and returned to his cushion. "But know that if anyone I or my friends care about dies while I'm sitting here, you'll be answering for it."
Ichibē cracked a smile. "A wise decision, Kurosaki Ichigo. You will not regret this decision, I assure you."
Ichigo could feel the other's accusing stares. He ignored them. For better or worse, this was the most responsible choice. He hoped they would see it that way too.
Much to his relief, two sets of footsteps drew closer. Rukia and Renji passed by him, taking their seats and looking none too happy. They glared at him, but he didn't think they were angry. They were frustrated, though. That was for sure. Still, they were making the right decision.
At least, he hoped they were.
+ Shift +
Hyōsube Ichibē stood on a balcony overlooking the Seireitei. His eyes took in the destruction radiating out from the Quincy stronghold. It was odd to think of such thoughtless destruction being caused by the successors of the Enders. His mind recalled their accusatory gazes clearly. He knew that things would come to this back then. Their conviction was too solid. That that conviction would give rise to such militarism was a foregone conclusion.
His hand stroked his beard as his mind worked. Reflecting on such recent memories was troubling for how vivid they tended to be. He would rather be reminiscing about the far distant past. There was something comforting about those days despite the sense of impending doom. The thought of Argyle's panicked expression still made his lips curl up.
"That's not the face someone looking over a war zone should be making, Ichibē." Hikifune Kirio's sing-song voice entered his ears, prompting him to turn. Both she and Kirinji Tenjirō approached. His smile broadened appropriately.
"The lady's right. Your face is looking extra creepy right now, old man." Tenjirō said, a long piece of grass held between his teeth.
"It is good to see you two in good spirits. I trust you have information for me. How are the Shinigami faring?"
Tenjirō clicked his tongue, "About as good as we expected. So not as good as they should be."
"Hmm, that's odd." Ichibē's hand stroked his chin. His face adopted a thoughtful shape. "You spread your healing Kidō among their ranks, did you not?"
"Of course I did! They didn't have enough time to really internalize my techniques, though. They're working with an incomplete understanding." He gingerly plucked the grass from his mouth and flicked it away. "If Retsu were still around, she could have beat the information into their heads more quickly, but all they had was me."
Ichibē nodded, his eyes focused on the grass lying on the floor. "And you, Kirio? How did your support operation go?"
"Quite well, considering how many mouths there were to feed. I estimate a good forty percent of the Shinigami forces were able to receive my special meals regularly. Another twenty percent received them intermittently. Overall, I would call that a success." She tittered, covering her mouth to be polite to her less successful comrade. There was no need for such consideration, however.
Combined with the distribution of Senjumaru's improved shihakushō, their efforts to support the Shinigami forces were most certainly successful. And, with the end of Kurosaki Ichigo, Abarai Renji, and Kuchiki Rukia's training nearly at hand, they would be filling in gaps left by previous defeats suffered at the hands of the Quincies.
"You two have done well!" Ichibē's hands patted their shoulders in an amicable way. "Your work will have extended the lives of many, many Shinigami this day. Be proud." His legs returned him to his place on the balcony overlooking the Seireitei, his hands clasping behind his back. "Now, the battle is long from over. Go forth and continue to offer your support."
With wordless bows, the pair retreated. Alone again, Ichibē's ears caught the sounds of fighting from the ground. He couldn't determine the tide of the battles from just hearing them. That sort of uncertainty was refreshing. Exciting, even. His imagination brought forth an image of Argyle's darting eyes and chattering teeth.
He knew it was inappropriate, but the laughter came anyway.