A giant black blade tore through the air aiming at Bambi. She avoided it, getting caught in the wild winds that followed its movement. If her wings weren't simply Reishi constructs she would have been dashed against the ground by the chaotic currents.
She soared along the length of the blade and launched a cluster of bulbs at the giant's hand. Sure enough, it exploded. "How's that? Armor or no, the fight's going to go the same way!" Bambi laughed, turning her attention to the giant's master.
He stared back up at her, defiant and seemingly unfazed by her attack. That wasn't right. He was supposed to get hurt when she damaged the Bankai, wasn't he? He swung his arm to the side. A sudden spike in air pressure gave warning of the coming attack, but just barely. A massive fist cut through the air. It clipped Bambi as she tried to dodge, sending her tumbling.
She recovered, righting herself mid-fall. She breathed heavily through clenched teeth. What was the deal with this?! It wasn't fair that could just ignore her attacks. She gathered a larger collection of bulbs in her wings and turned her sights on the hand holding the sword. If he was going to come at her without worrying about taking damage, then she'd just have to make the damage so bad that he couldn't ignore it!
The giant stabbed at her and she twisted around it. She dumped her payload on the same spot as before. When it exploded, she launched more of her bulbs into it. She was going to take that hand. That would teach this mutt to snap at her like that!
Troublesome pets had to be disciplined or they wouldn't learn!
The blasts subsided and Bambi laughed. She flew into the clouds of smoke left over to inspect her work. She nearly collided with a massive sword swinging through the air, dispersing the smoke altogether.
How was it still holding that thing? Its hand should be a pulpy mess, and yet . . . "Wha-?!"
Smoke trailed from the back of the giant's hand, but it was still fully intact. There wasn't even a bruise or anything. Its sickly orange skin was completely unmarred. It attacked again, replicating its masters movements. Bambi was forced to pull back, flying up into the air outside of the giant's range.
She shouted down at the Shinigami, her temper flaring, "What is this, Doggy? Why can't I break your stupid toy?!"
At this distance he should have had to shout for his voice to reach her, but what she heard was the doggy's deep voice, level and calm. "Dangai Jōe. This is a technique I have acquired at a great cost. By shedding its armor, my Bankai has entered into a state between life and death. It cannot be destroyed by any outside force. Even if you turn it into a bomb, it will persevere."
"That's stupid!" Bambi screamed, "That thing's just your sword, right? A sword isn't alive and it can't die! It's a tool!"
The doggy was silent for a while, then he said, "It seems you Quincies don't understand Zanpakuto as well as we thought."
"That's it!" Bambi gathered as much energy as she could muster on the spot. She compressed it, tighter and tighter until it was all packed into a small cluster of bulbs. Then she dove, screaming towards the giant sword spirit. She aimed at its head. Blowing that up would kill the doggy, but she didn't care. It was what the dirty animal deserved!
She blew past the black blade and stopped dead right in front of the giant's face. Using her own two hands, she pushed the ultra compressed Reishi bulbs into the thing's face. Right between the eyes. Dashing away, she laughed maniacally, "It's been fun, Doggy, but I've decided to get a cat instead!"
The giant's head exploded not just once, but several times. Over and over massive blasts shook the air and rocked the earth. It was so bright that Bambi had to avert her eyes. It was exhilarating! In training she could only go so far with her power. Here, though, she could push The Explode to its limits and see what it was really capable of.
Weapon or wielder. Solid or intangible. Living or dead! Anything she infused with her Reishi would become a bomb. And bombs did one thing: Explode!
The entire blasted out space below her was covered in smoke and dust. Bambi's heart started to beat faster. Once it was a little less thick, she could go down there and kick that stupid mutt's corpse with her own boots. Maybe she'd invite the others to join her, even if she hadn't quite forgiven them for leaving her behind just yet.
"Perhaps you didn't hear me." That same calm voice came from the blast zone. "My Bankai cannot be destroyed in this form. It shed its armor as I have shed the beastly elements of my soul. We are both between states. We exist, but have thrown aside our lives."
Bambi's eyes widened. It couldn't be! Nothing that dog-man said made sense! Was she having some kind of horrible nightmare?
Desperate to dispel the phantom doggy, she dispersed her Reishi into the cloud of smoke, infusing individual particles of dust with her power. Those tiny motes exploded, sparking a chain reaction that filled the battlefield with one, super massive explosion.
She guarded her face from the heat, but her exposed legs were lightly burned. The hem of her skirt was singed as well. Even through her eyelids the blast left a bright afterimage in her vision that she had to blink away.
Surely that was enough. A blast that big should have torn through the fabric of reality!
"You do not listen." The Shinigami's voice reached her ears just as the billowing smoke was dispersed by the giant's sword.
She felt like crying. This was a nightmare. It had to be! If she couldn't kill this one Shinigami after boasting to her friends they'd ridicule her to death! All that talk of taking him as her pet and lording him over her lonely friends was going to be thrown right back in her face!
Screaming, Bambi dove towards the Captain, sending a barrage of Reishi bulbs out in front of her. If she couldn't kill the giant, then she'd go straight for the master. He was flesh and blood, no matter what he said! Living humans, Hollows, or spirit beings; it didn't matter! They all lived in one way or another. They all had bodies that their souls inhabited. The one sure way to kill anything was to destroy its body. So that's what she'd do!
Her bulbs did nothing. The formerly beast-like Shinigami stood tall as his surroundings erupted. Even when his limbs exploded, he didn't flinch. No, they didn't explode at all! What was happening?! She drew in close. Maybe he was doing something to deflect her bulbs. Yeah, that had to be the case.
This time she was going to shove a big bulb right into his heart and look into his eyes as he burst from within! She approached at a blistering speed, but he stepped to the side, avoiding her easily. She turned her head to him as she passed.
There was a hole there.
In his chest, a hole. Wasn't that where his heart was supposed to be?
"What are you?!" Bambi stopped to face the enemy, but she was itching to run away. This wasn't a nightmare. It was real life, and that made it way worse.
The Captain looked into her eyes and glared, sending a chill down her spine. He was a walking corpse, that was the only explanation. But that still didn't explain why she couldn't blow him up! "I am a vengeful spirit. This body is my determination to see the enemies of the Shinigami buried," he said.
"You're a monster! Why can't you just die and take your stupid vengeance with you!" Her wings spread and glowed with a tremendous amount of Reishi. He couldn't be immortal. She wouldn't accept that! Everything could be blown up! The Explode was unbeatable! She fired a salvo of bulbs, ignoring her closeness to the target.
The resulting blast threw her spinning into the air, exactly where she wanted to be. She continued the assault, generating bulbs as quickly as she could and dropping them on the zombie doggy.
An enormous hand burst from the fireball, reaching for her. She avoided it and painted it with a wave of bulbs. The explosions continued to do nothing. Bambi screamed and tried to escape. This was too much for her to handle alone. Where were the others? Why did they choose now to piss off and leave her?!
The giant chased her, moving much faster than something that size had any right to move. She turned as she fled and tried to force the monster back with sheer explosive force. It wasn't doing anything! No matter how many bulbs she dumped on the thing it didn't slow down. If anything, it was getting faster. It was gaining on her!
She threw everything she had at the hand reaching out to grab her, creating a wall of explosions that only drew closer. If she kept this up, she'd get caught in her own blasts. For just a moment she stopped bombarding the hand with bulbs. Its fingers wrapped around her just as the final infused bulbs popped. The fingers were closing. She would be crushed!
This couldn't be happening. She was an elite! She was strong! Others looked up to her. Feared her! There was no way she could lose!
She poured her Spiritual Pressure into the giant's hand as it's fingers closed around her. She'd obliterate this stupid thing and make her escape. And then she'd come back with friends in tow and annihilate the Seireitei!
The hand was drawing closer.
"No!"
The air between her and the palm quickly grew dense with her Reishi.
"No, no, no!"
The fingers closed, imprisoning her. She'd be crushed! Bambi pushed everything out. All of her Reishi. Everything she'd pulled in from the environment. Everything her soul could produce. It came out in a thick, almost solid stream. She was almost entirely spent when her Reishi fed back into her own body.
". . . Huh?"
Heat. Fire. Pain.
+ Shift +
Sajin released his grip and the charred husk of the Quincy fell to the ground.
That was one threat neutralized. A painfully small act of vengeance. Just one was not enough to sate him. Not even their leader's head could do that now. The hole in his chest ached for Quincy blood.
He turned towards the monolithic palace of white in the distance. The way he was now-impervious to any sort of attack, untiring, driven by a fire hotter than the pits of hell-nothing could stop him. He flexed his fingers; those unsettling naked digits were a blessing and a curse. They represented his new power. They were the tools that would enable him to avenge the Captain-Commander.
But they were also the result of a great sacrifice. The life he'd known, the one in which he'd risen to the position of Captain in the Gotei 13, was over. When this was all over, he wouldn't be able to return. Komamura Sajin, Captain of the 7th Division, was dead.
With human hands he would sever all ties he held in the realms of man. Once that was done, he would become a beast. A true beast. Not like before.
He felt a great sadness at that. Odd, considering the hardships and ridicule he faced as a result of his heritage. Mixing the visage of a beast with the bearing of a man had always set him apart from his peers. They feared him, and made no attempt to understand. And yet, those somber memories seemed insignificant in the face of the respect and joy he experienced as well.
It took time and effort beyond measure, but he managed to make a place for himself amongst the souls of men. His friends, colleagues, and subordinates . . . he'd miss them all dearly.
Sights set on the enemy's base, Sajin took his next step towards vengeance. His Zanpakuto's thundering footsteps echoed his own.
The hole in his chest throbbed. Sajin found himself stumbling. He reached out to catch himself, but his arms refused to work the way they should. The side of his face hit the ground, but he did not feel any pain. His body was numb. Through eyes growing cloudy he saw his Bankai fade.
It was too early. He hadn't gotten his revenge yet. It couldn't be over.
Emotion slipped away. He knew he should feel upset. He should feel cheated. But he couldn't feel it. His mind was already changing.
Feeling returned suddenly with a nerve-rending pain. Muscle stretched and snapped, skin tore and folded, and bones snapped. He howled in pain as his body changed under the strain of his soul being sheared away.
The pain ended as suddenly as it began, but he could not move. His newly formed limbs ached. His lungs, much smaller than they once were, barely pulled in enough air for his new, smaller body. His heart-that of a beast-beat furiously, trying to keep him alive.
Thought was slipping now. The aspects of his soul that were human were no more. His bestial side was now all he had. He was truly a beast in body and spirit, and soon, he would be one in mind as well. He would be returned to zero, beginning life as a pup once again.
He was frightened.
Where would he go? How would he survive outside of the beast realm, where his kin would care for him until he could stand on his own? He was all alone here, in the world of men. Just like he used to be.
He sensed a presence, his pulse quickening. His limbs were still too sore to move. How would he defend himself? He worked his jaws. They still worked, but he wasn't sure if he had enough strength to fend off an attacker.
Somebody approached and knelt down beside him. A man. He was saying something. "You fought well, Captain. You can rest now." The tongue of man was a strange thing. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but that was what his instincts were telling him. Whatever the man was saying, he did not give off any sort of hostility.
He could be trusted. Sajin felt that strongly. That was calming.
The man reached out, scooping Sajin up and cradling him in his arms. It was safe here, he felt. His breathing slowed, as did his heartbeat. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
There was something familiar about this man's scent. It was nice. So he felt as he drifted off to sleep.
+ Shift +
Consciousness crashed down on Bambi with a wave of agony. She couldn't move. Every inch of her body pulsed with sharp, unbearable pain. Her nerves were on fire. She tried to cry out, to scream for help, but only a scratchy gasp came out. Her throat was so dry.
Anybody . . . Please!
It hurt so bad. It felt like her entire body was burned to a crisp.
She didn't want to die.
The sky above darkened as a shadow passed over her unblinking eyes. Somebody was there! "Please . . ." she croaked. Every syllable was agonizing. "Help . . . me!" She didn't care who it was. She didn't care who saw her like this. Even the doggy-monster that he was-would do.
"Oh, poor Bambi. Look how pathetic she looks." She knew that voice! Her friends . . . they came for her! Gigi and Meni leaned over into her view. They oozed pity. Normally, that would have sent her into a rage. How dare they take pity on her, the leader?! Not now. Now, she couldn't be more thankful.
Candy entered her line of sight, grimacing. "Give her some space, damn. Is she really still alive?"
"I give her ten minutes, tops." Bambi couldn't see Lil give her two cents, but she appreciated that she was there at all.
"Pretty optimistic if you ask me. So? What do we do with her?"
"Meni, why don't you put her out of her misery?" Wait . . . what were they talking about?
Meni looked shocked, "No way! I don't want to touch her. She's probably all crunchy." She shivered and gagged. "Just eat her, Lil."
"Pass."
Gigi raised her hand. "I'll take her. That way, we can put her to rest and get some practical use out of her too." The others thought it over, then nodded. Why did they look so disgusted? "Looks like you'll be sticking with us a little longer, Bambi." Gigi leaned over, bringing her face close. Bambi was forced to look deep into her eyes.
And she understood.
She tried to scream, but the sound wouldn't come out. She wanted to cry, but her tear ducts were shriveled and dry.
"Oh! Somebody's excited." Gigi drew back, smiling like a crazy person. She held her hand over her head, fingers splayed out like a claw. Like a weapon. "Patience, Bambi. You'll be back on your feet real soon."
Bambi's agony intensified as Gigi's hand plunged into her chest.
Then there was nothing.
+ Break +
Ōmaeda Marechiyo dragged a damp cloth across his forehead as members of the 2nd Division crowded around him. "Keep those reports coming! I need to know what's happening!" Messenger after messenger approached bearing thick stacks of paper. Didn't they realize there was a war going on? "Abridge your messages, damn it!"
He squinted at the pages, struggling to make out the words smudged by his sweaty hands. Why did they even bother with written reports anymore? It would be so much more efficient to send information through computers.
But no. With all of the conveniences of modern civilization, they held to dated analog methods. He paid to have the entire barracks air conditioned, so the least they could do was let him receive reports inside!
"Give me some space, people! I can only talk to one of you at a time!" Crumpling a moist report, he shouted at the gathered messengers, but much to his dismay, they held fast. At this rate, the stress was going to kill him before the Quincies got the chance.
And maybe that wouldn't be so bad. After all, if he just up and died on the spot, then the Captain wouldn't be able to chew him out for the mess he was making of things either. Speaking of Soi Fon . . .
Wasn't this supposed to be her job?!
Marechiyo grumbled to himself. The Captain had always insisted on training at maximum intensity, but she should have been back by now. She hadn't hurt herself, had she? No. What a stupid idea. If she intended to go that hard, then she would have taken someone along. There must be a reason why she was still away.
This is the worst. I'm hot, I'm stressed out, and I can't even blame someone else for this crappy situation!
He was about ready to pull his hair out. Grabbing papers out of outstretched hands, absorbing the information, making decisions, and making sure he gave the right orders to the right people was driving him crazy. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the crowd thinning, but the shouting of all of the messengers was still a terrible ruckus. He pushed himself, applying a great deal of finesse and dexterity to churn through reports faster and faster. If he went just a little faster, maybe he could get ahead and find some time to relax. Or at least catch his breath.
When the crowd parted abruptly, Marechiyo barely noticed. It wasn't until he didn't receive a new report in his outstretched hand that he looked up from his work and realized what was happening.
The Shinigami surrounding him had indeed spread out, giving him space to breath finally, but they weren't doing so out of consideration. Not at all. They faced away from Marechiyo, drawing swords and trying to hold their ground. A great Spiritual Pressure forced most of them to back away, however.
Marechiyo's eyes widened as their gaze fell upon a tall figure clad in white. He wore a long cloak and a gleaming helmet, barred like that of a medieval knight's. He was walking, without an ounce of urgency, directly towards the beleaguered Lieutenant. Marechiyo's sweat ran cold and his throat, already dry from the heat and effort, became like a desert.
That's a Quincy, a strong one, he thought, too stunned to wipe away the sweat pooling at the edges of his mouth. He's looking at me. He's coming right for me! But why?! What do I do? He can't really be after me of all people, right?
The shining Quincy must have been after the Captain. Yeah, that made sense. He came here looking for Soi Fon, but she was away, so Marechiyo was the next best thing as Lieutenant! But . . . didn't that mean . . .
Before the thought could coalesce in Marechiyo's head, the Quincy flicked back his cloak exposing a body partially covered by gleaming armor. His chest, forearms, and shins were wrapped in the same glistening white metal as his head. The parts he left exposed, however, looked inhuman. Gray sinew wrapped tightly around bone, making the guy look emaciated. Marechiyo only got a moment to register the oddities of the Quincy's appearance before he raised his weapon.
Marechiyo felt the blood drain from his face as the armored Quincy leveled an enormous gun directly at him. The hair on the back of his neck and arms stood on end as the barrels, arranged in a circle, began to spin. Instinct kicked in as the whirring of the rotating barrels reached a fever pitch.
He dashed away right as a hail of bullets tore into the front of the 2nd Division's barracks. "Everybody! Retreat!" He called, dodging another spray. The Shinigami scattered. In a situation like this, they'd spread the word about what was happening. Win or lose, information about this Quincy would likely be valuable going forward. "And send someone to help me! Please!" A stream of bullets carved through the ground and buildings, cutting through more than a few of Marechiyo's comrades as it chased him down.
With a quick burst of speed, he took cover behind a cat statue mounted on a thick pedestal. The whirring of the gun slowed and eventually stopped, and for a second, Marechiyo thought he'd actually managed to give the armored Quincy the slip. That illusion was shattered when the Quincy spoke.
"I'm surprised," his voice echoed from inside his helmet. There was something about his voice that didn't quite sound natural. "Your Reiatsu pales in comparison to a Captain's, but it far exceeds that of the rabble. I deduce that you are a mere Lieutenant. And yet, your rank belies your swiftness. It seems you are deserving of more than a passing effort to eliminate."
You've gotta be kidding me! This psycho was barely trying to kill him just now? Marechiyo stole a peek at the barracks from behind the pedestal. The landscape was littered with smoking holes. That was a "passing effort"?! He sat back, breathing hard. There had to be a way out of this. "Hey! The Captain isn't here right now! You don't want to waste your time on a lowly punk like me, do you?!"
"Waste my time? You are mistaken," The Quincy chuckled and started spinning his barrels. "I would very much like to find and kill your Captain, but my goal is the eradication of all Shinigami. Any opportunity to work towards that goal is valuable." The whirring sound quickly reached a high pitch. The pedestal was destroyed by gunfire.
Marechiyo slid to a stop, trying hard not to look at the sorry state of his former hiding spot. His eyes bulged and his legs shook. He was out in the open now. The Quincy was turning towards him, barrels still spinning. A bright red glint from inside that gleaming helmet made his sweat run cold.
Fight or Flight? Marechiyo was confident in his speed, but for all he knew this enemy could be just as fast as he was. There was just too much he didn't know about this guy. If he did manage to escape, then he'd have nothing to report to the Captain when she returned. That was almost as scary as staring down that storm of bullets.
He had no choice, then. "Crush, Gegetsuburi!" His flail-like sword dropped into his hands and he immediately started swinging its spiked head in a tight circle. A lieutenant like him didn't stand a chance against this kind of opponent, but he could at least buy time. When the Captain finally returned, he'd give her all sorts of valuable info.
Assuming he survived.
+ Shift +
BG9 pointed his gun at the sweaty Lieutenant standing against him, but he held his fire. "So you choose to fight? That is admirable. I must assume that the cowardice you demonstrate by running about is a facade, then. Very clever."
The plump Shinigami's face contorted, scrunching up in frustration. He likely relied heavily on his appearance misleading his opponents. Such a simple deception would not work here. Eyes wild, the Shinigami swung his spiky Zanpakuto into the ground beside him and slammed his palms flat against the stone at his feet. He shouted, voice quivering, "Bakudō #21! Sekienton!" The ground beneath him glowed a soft red before exploding into a thick crimson cloud.
A smokescreen? An interesting tactic to cover one's escape. However, it was ultimately useless. The smoke was dense with Reishi, making it an effective veil against BG9's spiritual sensors, but it lacked volume. As soon as the Lieutenant left the smoke, his position would be obvious. BG9 started spinning his barrels and prepared to lock on. He cursed as a large spiked ball shot out of the smokescreen and slammed into his arm, crushing his gun.
The spiked ball was pulled back into the smoke by its chain. The smokescreen was dispersed a moment later by the Shinigami swinging his weapon over his head. "You thought I was gonna run away, didn't you?" He called, trying to sound tough. His uncertainty was plain to see, though. "I'm more clever than you thought, huh? Well, get ready, cause I'm pretty good in a fight too!"
His words rang true, in a way. BG9 had determined that this man was a coward who would flee at the first opportunity, so he was caught off-guard by that surprise attack. As far as him being clever went . . . "We shall see." BG9 shed his cloak and dropped the mangled remains of his gun. He had long since abandoned his human soul, and therefore could no longer make use of his bow, but with this body, both were unnecessary.
The Shinigami charged, launching his spiked ball in front of him. The weapon shot through the air, aimed at the center of BG9's chest. A smart move to ensure the attack hit. If he were fighting a target dummy, it would have surely been terribly destructive.
BG9 flicked the ball away as it approached. The overall destructive force was . . . disappointing. The ball's wielder clearly felt the same as he slid to a stop well outside of arm's reach, his jaw hanging open. "Charging a foe who is clearly superior in strength is decidedly not clever." BG9 held an arm out to the side. The joints in his shoulder and elbow opened and launched a pair of compact missiles at the shocked Lieutenant. They exploded before he could take a step to flee.
To the man's credit, he managed to mitigate the damage from the blasts well enough. He stood his ground, protecting his center of mass by turning his body, allowing his limbs to take the brunt of the damage. Those injuries would hinder his ability to escape. And so, the opponent was effectively crippled.
Fortunately for this Shinigami, BG9 did not possess the sadistic streak that so many of his compatriots did. He would end the enemy's suffering without dragging things out too long.
He released the limiters on his body's Reishi engines, allowing his heavily modified soul to absorb a great deal of spiritual power from his surroundings. Doing so granted him greatly increased power output, though it did not enhance his own unique ability the way Vollständig would.
It did offer him one unique benefit, however. Metallic tendrils reached out from BG9's body, wrapping around the shattered remnants of his gun. Those tendrils utilized his increased Reishi output to repair the weapon and transform it. He was fond of the shape of the minigun, but in the interest of ruthless efficiency, he rebuilt the gun in the form of a large barreled cannon. A swift, brutal end was ideal.
The Shinigami stared down the barrel of the newly repaired weapon with tears in his eyes. He tried to flee, screaming as he ran. His agility was still impressive despite his injuries, but not nearly so much as before. BG9 tracked the Lieutenant with ease, taking careful aim. He was going to end this with one merciful shot.
He fired, bracing himself against the intense recoil. The shell screamed silently through the air, closing on its target in a moment. The detonation shook the foundations of the nearby barracks causing the more damaged parts to collapse.
BG9 cocked his head. The impact of the cannon had been far more intense than he had initially calculated. His arm jerked and shook as a result of the recoil. A quick adjustment solved the issue and reinforced the joints for future uses. His spiritual sensors were damaged as well. A thick veil of static almost completely blocked his vision, though that issue faded quickly. The greater problem was that he still read the Lieutenant's Spiritual Pressure and another unknown signal that was far too powerful to belong to any of the rabble he'd chased off before. If the issue didn't fix itself, then he would need to return to the Wandenreich for maintenance.
When the smoke from his attack finally cleared he was able to visually confirm that his sensors were not malfunctioning after all. The Lieutenant still lived, though he looked so terrified that his heart might explode at any moment. Which made the woman standing before him the owner of that powerful Spiritual Pressure. That was a relief. Everything was working as intended.
"You are the Captain of the 2nd Division, Soi Fon, are you not?"BG9 ejected the spent shell casing. It dispersed into Reishi that could be reabsorbed and put to use again. "Odd. I did not detect your approach."
The woman sneered, "Reiatsu concealment is the bread and butter of the Onmitsukidō. Of course you wouldn't see me coming." Her form blurred and BG9's arm moved by itself, catching her foot with his forearm. His joints creaked under the pressure of her attack and he had to hurriedly dismiss warnings that the integrity of his armor was severely compromised. She pushed off, flipping back through the air. She landed very near to where she started.
"You make an impressive entrance, Captain. My interest is piqued." Metallic tendrils slithered out from his damaged arm, finding the fragments of armor that had chipped away and pulling them back into place. "I would appreciate an opportunity to study that explosive power of yours."
"I'm sure you would. You'll have to defeat me if you want that chance." She smirked. The idea was laughable to her. Her Reiatsu swelled. That was a mistake.
BG9 locked on to her spiritual signature. Now, no matter how quickly she moved, he could follow her. Concealing her power would no longer work. She'd practically handed him the victory. Her form blurred, but he could see her clearly. He took aim-
She was in front of him in an instant, but that still wasn't fast enough! If she'd been one moment faster-
Her fist slammed into his chest.
BG9's body was caught up in a violent storm of Spiritual Pressure shredding his armor and scrambling his sensors. That tempestuous wave of power flung him back, carving a deep trench in the ground along its path.
Large chunks of armor broke away as his limbs crunched against the ground. His sense of touch vanished and his view of the landscape passing by as he tumbled became garbled in static. This body that was the pinnacle of Quincy weapons technology was falling apart after a single clean hit.
He came to a stop in a heap, unable to move his arms or legs. He could see one of his arms sticking up in a direction that should have been impossible for his human shape through his remaining visual sensor, cracked though it was. He didn't need a damage report to know that he was severely beaten, not that the diagnostic functionality was still intact.
If his Reishi engine had been so horribly damaged this fight would have been over.
It was not, however.
+ Shift +
Soi Fon breathed out, releasing a great deal of tension. Her Shunkō wasn't quite perfect yet. She could reliably activate the technique and put it to use on a moment's notice, but calming her raging Reiatsu afterwards was proving difficult. So long as she could dispatch her enemies in one go, that was hardly an issue.
She turned away from the cloud of dust she'd created with the Quincy's body and regarded her buffoon of a Lieutenant. What a sorry sight. "Ōmaeda! Get off your ass and give me a report. And stop crying!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" He shot up, tears evaporating instantly. Soi Fon wondered if he only acted like a fool most of the time. But no, that was ridiculous. He was a coward to the core, it was just that he was well trained. At least he had one respectable trait.
He approached her, favoring one leg. His injuries were not as superficial as they first appeared, then. She was sorely tempted to praise his stand against a foe so much more powerful than himself-something he did of his own volition for once-but knowing her Lieutenant, it would go to his head and he'd only become more insufferable.
Ōmaeda recited a very abridged summary of current events. If she weren't so sore she would have chewed him out for leaving out so many details. "That's enough. Gather our messengers and-" A sudden surge of Spiritual Pressure drew Soi Fon's attention just in time to see a thin tendril shooting towards her chest. She stepped back and the tendril snapped taut, its spike-like tip stopping where her heart was moments ago.
"Back me up, Ōmaeda!" She said before more tendrils emerged from the dust. They moved erratically, stabbing at her from several directions at once.
Soi Fon spun and flipped, avoiding each pointed attack by a hair's breadth. Their precision and speed were driving her into a corner. It was only a matter of time before her lack of rest caught up with her. She winced as small gashes were opened on her limbs and face.
The tendrils grew closer and closer as if they were adjusting to her movements. One of them broke off at a sharp angle and made a direct attack through the mess of the others. It was a point approaching at incredible speed, making it difficult to track.
Soi Fon flicked her hand, grasping the spike and stopping it in its tracks. The chaotic pattern of attacks broke as the other tendrils turned to stab at her directly. She wasn't going to give them the chance to strike. With a mighty pull, she whipped the tendril in her hand against the ground, knocking the rest of them away with the shock of the impact, then pulled it taut.
She traced the length of the tendril back into the dust that was now mostly cleared up. A bright red dot of light shone through the obscuring cloud. "Good show, Captain," the Quincy's voice echoed, "Power and agility of that caliber is truly something special. I must retract my earlier request. I will be studying you whether or not you consent."
"How exactly does that change anything?" Soi Fon pulled, heaving the Quincy out of the trench she made with his body. He severed his connection with the tendril before she could slam him back down.
The Quincy's body was fully intact. It looked freshly buffed and shined, in fact. He rolled his shoulders and bent his arms as if this were the first time he'd used them. "Before, I was trying to capture and kill you as a Quincy. I wanted to give you the chance to contribute to the coming new world before you died. Now, I am going to pick you apart and glean every bit of information I can from your soul before destroying you. The difference: I am now acting on personal motivations as opposed to duty." He said.
"Not much of a change if you ask me," Soi Fon smirked. It didn't make a difference to her what his motivations were. Her goal remained the same.
Her Reiatsu swelled and she channeled it out of her back in two thick streams. The nature of her power caused her Reishi to turn in on itself, looping around and feeding back through her. As it cycled, its intensity grew exponentially. She willed it to wrap around her arms and legs, bolstering her strength and speed. This was the result of her tireless training.
Shunkō.
"I have long since abandoned my name, but you may refer to me as BG9," The Quincy said. He tried to say more, but Soi Fon charged, closing the distance between them in a flash. He survived her first Shunkō-empowered attack, so this time she would hammer him until nothing remained. She threw a punch, dragging her storming Reiatsu along her arm's path. Her Spiritual Pressure shot out in a straight devastating blast, but just before it made contact, the Quincy vanished.
No, he moved. To the left? No, right! "Wha-?!" Soi Fon was seeing double, or rather quintuple. Five copies of BG9 stood around where he'd been standing a moment ago. They moved in unison, the ones on the ground beside her spinning to whip her with fists and boots, and the ones floating in the air over her head lashing out with clusters of metallic tendrils.
She bounced back, using her swirling power to cushion and brace herself. The five Quincies-they were distinct copies, not afterimages-converged back into a single body. His red eye flashed as if to taunt her.
He started speaking, ignoring her attempt to destroy him, "Do you recall your encounter with Cang Du, Captain? I considered him a kindred spirit."
"Shut it!" Rather than rushing in full bore a second time, Soi Fon approached more cautiously, though no less quickly. If a single strong attack left her open, then she would go with a flurry. With Shunkō empowered limbs she unloaded a barrage of punches and kicks, blowing through his feeble attempts at defense.
She got in close enough to strike him directly and took a shot. As her fist approached his barred face, it split like an arrow cored by another shaft. Seven fists cut through the air, passing around the Quincy's head. An eighth fist landed a blow on his chest, but it clearly did not connect properly. He rebuffed her with a flourish of tendrils and continued monologuing.
"Not because we were friendly-I rather disliked the man, in truth-but because the nature of our unique skills were similar." He brushed the spot on his chest where she struck him like he was inspecting a smudged mirror. "His was a purely defensive power. So much so that he thought it greater than the Quincy Blut. The hubris made keeping his company an unpleasant chore."
Soi Fon inspected her arm, flexing her fingers and twisting her wrist. She hadn't been cut. Her arm simply split into eight whole copies.
"Much like The Iron, my ability is defensive in general. I can scatter my surroundings to avoid attacks or mitigate damage. It can be quite troublesome to manage when so much of my processing power is dedicated elsewhere." He was giving her an explanation of his powers? The Quincy she fought before did the same. Were they all this full of themselves, or did she just happen to meet with the most foolish among their ranks?
No matter. If his ability was defensive, then she just had to overwhelm it as she did with the first Quincy. A feat that would be much easier now that she could use Shunkō to this degree.
Her power surged, propelling her body straight at BG9. He deployed tendrils, but before she reached that first line of defense, she changed direction. Slipping behind him, she charged again. As the tendrils began to sprout from his back she changed direction again. Faster and faster she dashed in circles until she completely outpaced his tendrils.
Once he started erecting barriers in seemingly random directions, she made her move. Pivoting hard, she made a bee-line for the Quincy's back. Spiritual Pressure pooled in her fist and she threw a devastating punch.
Then the world in front of her shattered.
All of a sudden her vision was fractured. She could still see the Quincy, but he seemed to be in her periphery. He was below her and on her flanks, both left and right. It was like she was redirected so that she passed around him. More unsettling was that she could see herself in the same peripheral way.
Just as suddenly as it split her perception it returned to normal. The shift confused her balance and she stumbled, rolling to a stop in a heap.
"My ability is called The Kaleidoscope, it grants me the ability to multiply the world. Its versatility makes it far superior to other defensive techniques. A demonstration . . ." Tendrils extended from BG9's outstretched arm, wrapping around each other until they congealed in the form of a large-barreled cannon. "I suggest you do not move."
The cannon fired, launching a shell of condensed energy directly at her. At this distance it would reach her in an instant, but that still wasn't fast enough. She launched herself away, narrowly avoiding-
The shell split like a blooming flower. One of the copies slammed into her side and exploded.
"I did warn you." Soi Fon could barely hear the Quincy's voice through the ringing in her ears. She blinked away bright spots in her vision and saw the cannon on his arm transforming. "That technique of yours might overwhelm my sensors with how much Reishi it dumps into the air, but that means little when I can expand my area of effect." The weapon on BG9's arm congealed into a multi-barrel machine gun. The weapon whined as the barrels began to spin.
Soi Fon stood, but favored one leg. The damage wasn't crippling, but she would have a hard time putting weight on her left foot for now. That wasn't about to slow her down, though. The bullets started to fly and Soi Fon dodged, keeping a steady lead on the line of fire. She mixed up her movements, ducking under the hail of bullets and using bursts of Reiatsu to push herself in unexpected directions.
She pivoted on her good foot and skimmed the Quincy's attack, running almost parallel to the spray from his weapon. He couldn't keep up. What he said about "his sensors" wasn't a lie, then. She pushed, tearing up the ground with each step. Her injured foot sent a shot of pain up her leg with each solid impact.
The distance between them closed in an instant. She was in the ideal position to attack. She pulled her fist back, gathering Spiritual Pressure in her fist. This was her chance to blow him away!
But she waited.
And as expected, BG9's body split apart. His attention snapped to her, red eye flashing. He tried to repel her with kicks and tendrils. It was as if he thought he could match her speed. Soi Fon barely needed to move to avoid his panicked response. If she was right, then this split-up state would only last for a short time. And that time was just about up.
Soi Fon leaped straight up as the Quincy's copies began to fuzz and pull together. She raised her fists, compounding the Spiritual Pressure by bringing them together. The moment BG9 reformed into a single body, she boosted herself down, slamming her empowered fists into his chest.
Wide fissures opened up around the point of impact. The force blew away any dust that might have gathered in the air. The Quincy's mangled body was clearly visible, half buried in a small crater. Whatever trick he used to recover last time wouldn't work again.
Soi Fon stumbled when she touched down, that last leap having put more strain on her injured foot than she thought. A quick trip to the 4th Division would fix that up quickly enough. She released her Shunkō, breathing in sharply as her limbs grew heavy. She'd been exhausted when she first arrived and now her body was reaching its absolute limit. She didn't regret training herself so hard, but it was disheartening knowing how far she still needed to go before Shunkō could be considered perfected.
She turned to leave, preparing to call Ōmaeda over so he could lend her a shoulder. Then she heard a click that drew her attention back to BG9's ruined body. Scanning the crater she didn't spot any evidence that he'd moved, but that sound had definitely come from him. Would her body be able to take another round of Shunkō if need be?
The Quincy's joints which weren't buried moved suddenly. They slid open, putting Soi Fon on guard. The way he spoke, she knew he wasn't entirely human. The mechanical nature of his form might allow him to use those pesky tendrils even in that state. No time for caution. She clenched her fists-it took a second to find the strength-and began circulating her Reiatsu.
Several small containers shot out of the Quincy's joints with a pop. They hung in the air in front of Soi Fon's face just long enough for her to recognize them as explosives. Her eyes widened as each small bomb suddenly split into eight. She tried to jump away, but her bad foot tripped her up. She couldn't activate Shunkō fast enough and she couldn't get away in time.
"Captain!" Ōmaeda appeared, moving faster than she'd ever seen him move, and grabbed her. A moment later, the small crater was enveloped in a tremendous explosion that would have put her out of commission if it didn't kill her flat out.
Leaning on her Lieutenant's shoulder, Soi Fon watched the fading fireball for any sign of that damned Quincy robot. She was beginning to suspect that simply breaking his body wasn't going to be enough to stop him. "Ōmaeda, I need you to run interference for me."
"What?! You're gonna leave me alone with that thing again?!"
"Relax," she said, "you've done something like this before and didn't die. I'm counting on that speed of yours to confuse him."
"O-oh . . ." He still had that panicked look about him, but Ōmaeda set his jaw anyways. "Then . . . I-I won't let you down, Captain!"
Soi Fon grimaced. There was something about this lard ass acting reliable that rubbed her the wrong way. "Good. Now, take me around the barracks a few times. I need to set things up."
+ Shift +
The surprise attack failed. That pesky Lieutenant was proving to be a greater annoyance than expected.
BG9 rose from the charred hole in which he was buried. His legs weren't regenerating properly, but they could still hold him. As long as he could turn and brace himself, that would do just fine. His engine burned white hot running at its limit. Even then the output was only enough to regain his proper shape and make his arms work. He wouldn't be able to use his tendrils for offence anymore. His sensors were barely functioning as well.
What a state to find himself in.
The interference from the explosion faded away, giving him a clearer view of his surroundings. What he saw would have made him grind his teeth if he still had a jaw. The entire area was bathed in the Captain's Spiritual Pressure. He'd been afraid of this.
That empowering technique she was using created a great deal of excess Reishi that was simply dumped into the air around her. She hadn't covered this much ground before slamming him into the ground a second time, so how had the pollution gotten so bad?
Ah, so she's figured me out. It was probably when she was running circles around him earlier. He lost track of her whereabouts and she noticed. That was unfortunate. He'd be at a significant disadvantage unless she was injured by the earlier explosion.
Somebody moved at the edge of his visual sensors. So she was still able to fight. BG9's engine revved, pumping power into his arm and torso. Tendrils formed into the familiar form of a gatling gun and he took aim, ignoring his jittering joints. The barrels spun and released a wave of death. He shuddered under the recoil, struggling to drag his arm in a straight line.
Every inch of him rattled and creaked. His body would fall apart if he didn't finish this fight now.
He turned his stiff neck to track the enemy, but she was too fast. No matter. She wouldn't run forever, he knew. Soi Fon was far too aggressive a fighter to let it end in a stalemate. She would come at him eventually.
BG9 was patient, unlike his peers. He could wait. He could drag this fight out as long as necessary. So he allowed her to stay ahead of him, disintegrating the surroundings with Reishi bullets that would never end as long as the Soul Society stood. Most of his attention was on continuing his futile attack, however he did allocate a small amount of processing power to formulating a plan.
It was simple, yet devious in its ruthlessness. When she eventually closed in to strike him down-and she would without fail-he would self detonate. It was a risky maneuver. But when he envisioned Soi Fon's shocked expression, filled with despair, surrounded by copies of BG9 that were about to explode with a force approaching a weapon of mass destruction . . . perhaps sadism wasn't so distasteful after all.
The Captain's blurry form ducked behind a pile of rubble, but did not reemerge. That was . . . irregular. None of the reports he'd read on Soi Fon indicated she would choose to hide instead of attack. Perhaps she was more heavily injured than he expected. Still, that she would abandon the very clear advantage her speed provided was concerning. If she was more cautious than reported, then she might not fall into his trap after all. In that case . . .
BG9 took careful aim at the pile the Captain was using as cover. If she was going to let her opportunity slip by, then he would seize it for himself. Barrels spinning at full speed, he pulled the trigger, piercing that shoddy barricade with hundreds of bullets. The Shinigami dashed out just before being eviscerated, and BG9 locked on to her. Finally, he could gauge the extent of her injuries and-
That was not Soi Fon.
The 2nd Division's Lieutenant sprinted with blistering speed, a look of terror plastered across his broad face. He paled, realizing he'd been had. Such unabashed cowardice almost drove BG9 to drop all of his plans and end the man's miserable existence that instant.
But no. He was not so damaged that he would make such a foolish mistake. Releasing the trigger, he collected himself, diverting more energy to solving the conundrum before him. If the figure he'd been tracking thus far was the Lieutenant, then where had the Captain gone? He turned slowly, scanning his surroundings for any sign of her. The entire area was still saturated with her Spiritual Pressure, making sensing her actual presence impossible.
How was she doing it? That technique of hers created a great deal of excess Reishi, but she couldn't manage this kind of coverage unless she was constantly dumping copious amounts of power over every square inch of the barracks. The speeds she would need to reach to maintain this level of saturation without revealing herself at all were completely unfeasible by any stretch of the data.
She was doing it, however. He saw nothing of her, yet her power continued to spread like rain from a heavy-
Above!
BG9 raised his head and, sure enough, she was there, floating far above, well outside of his sensory range. He swung his arm, ignoring the sounds of metal breaking and scraping. Whatever she was planning, he would stop it!
She flashed with a power that shone even through the fog of her Spiritual Pressure. BG9's mind raced.
+ Shift +
Soi Fon stood in the air, breathing heavily. This was the third time she'd activated Shunkō in a very short period of time, and she was starting to feel the effects more acutely. Her vision was starting to blur and an intense pain spread from her back. That was a small price to pay, though. If her plan succeeded, then she could rest. If she failed, then she would likely die, and all of her pain and exhaustion would be moot.
Either way, this battle was going to be decided by this next move.
Her Bankai weighed her down, threatening to send her tumbling to the ground. Through the slit in the face guard, she carefully lined up her shot.
She grit her teeth. That she was forced to resort to her Bankai after rejecting Ōtoribashi's ideas about relying on the familiar was galling. She could see his smug face, looking down on her, expecting her to deny the folly of her methods so that he could rub her mistakes in her face. Well, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
Her power surged and raging power cycled behind her. Jakuhō Raikōben's recoil would send her flying if she didn't brace herself, but with Shunkō she could use her own Reishi to counteract the force. That was the idea, anyway.
The missile ignited and a set of fins extended from its body. Soi Fon peered through the face guard, watching the Quincy turn his head up to face her. His glowing red eye flashed and he moved to aim his weapon at her. He wouldn't get the chance.
She launched her missile and nearly cried out in pain as the opposing forces of her techniques pressed her from both sides. The first stage of her plan worked, fortunately. She blinked back tears and watched with bated breath. The second stage of her plan relied entirely on the Quincy's reaction.
Jakuhō Raikōben's missile screamed towards the ground. It would follow BG9 no matter how he tried to evade, so he had only one choice. The missile reached him in moments, and just as Soi Fon hoped, split into several copies. From straight on, the effect of his ability would have allowed him to divert the attack around him. Doing so now, when the attack was coming from above him, only guaranteed that the attack would hit the ground at his feet.
Eight missiles detonated around the cybernetic Quincy, enveloping him in an explosion that nearly blew Soi Fon away as she fell. She passed through the towering column of smoke and fire, the heat singing her hair and burning her skin. She shut her eyes against the soot and held her breath against the smoldering air.
She careened towards the ground, head first. Her arms and legs refused to work properly. She was just too exhausted. She couldn't see it coming, but she knew that she'd crash any second now.
Impact.
The air trapped in Soi Fon's lungs was forcefully released as she slammed into something other than solid ground. It grunted and wrapped around her, and after a few dazed moments, she realized that she was no longer falling.
The heat from the explosion waned. She was out of the smoke, then. Her overtaxed mind wasn't able to connect the dots until she was placed gently on the ground. Blinking away the stinging soot, she looked up at the worried face of her Lieutenant, his skin ashy from dashing through the fiery cloud to catch her.
"Captain," he shouted, hacking up a lung, "stay with me!" He wiped his face, looking around with wide, panicked eyes, "At least stay awake until I can confirm that that Quincy is dead! I can't fight something like that on my own!"
What an idiot.
Her entire body screamed out in protest, but Soi Fon pushed herself off the ground Even if standing was impossible she could still sit up. "Stop shouting and lend me your shoulder. Get me to the 4th Division." The words came out slurred and her face pulsed with a dull pain that flared up every time she closed her mouth. Ōmaeda got the gist of it, though. He picked her up and started moving towards the 4th Division's field camp.
Useless legs, battered arms, and a potentially broken jaw, not to mention her internal injuries. What a way to end a fight. Once again she was down for the count after a single encounter. It was pathetic.
She managed to take out another Quincy, at least. That much she was sure of. That gave her some solace as her eyelids grew heavy and her injuries made her mind all foggy.
And she was still alive.
That was something to be proud of.
+ Break +
The wall of ice protecting Tōshirō shattered, sending razor sharp fragments back at its creator. He already bore a myriad of cuts and scrapes from previous attempts to defend himself, and these added to those.
Another ice barrier went up. He ducked behind it, breathing heavily and wiping blood from his cheek. These walls wouldn't hold the Quincy's voice back, and he didn't expect them to. He just needed time.
The wall shattered, and Tōshirō sprinted through the shrapnel. He circled around the ape-man, giving him a wide berth. The Quincy turned his head, animalistic lips curling up. When he opened his mouth, Tōshirō braced himself. A blast of sound hit him like a giant hammer, sending him skidding across the road. His icy wings crumbled again. It was starting to take a long time to reform them.
Tōshirō ducked into an alleyway, hoping the buildings between him and his opponent might give him some respite. He didn't stop running, though. He'd already lost to this man once. He knew that something like a building was little more than an inconvenience. The walls behind Tōshirō crumbled, filling the alley with the sounds of destruction.
The end of the alley was fast approaching. He'd be rushing back out into the open, forcing him to erect another wall of ice that would still leave him exposed. He needed to get in close, but those bursts of sound kept him away. It was just like their first clash. Except, this time he didn't have Matsumoto's support.
Tōshirō's ice had grown stronger over the years. It could withstand most forms of attack reliably. He'd even managed to resist heat and flame by restructuring the way his ice formed. But he couldn't account for Guizbatt's powerful sonic blasts. The delicacy and intricacy with which he would need to structure his ice was well beyond his current power.
Just as Tōshirō was about to dive out from the alleyway, the destructive noise stopped. He hesitated, approaching the corner of the building slowly. Guizbatt's voice reached him, but not as a powerful attack. "You are making this more difficult than it needs to be, little one," he called, voice easily reaching all around. He'd gotten much larger than before, growing gradually over the course of the fight. Right now, he could probably reach around Tōshirō's waist with one hand. "You should face your death with dignity. Instead, you scamper around like a rabbit during a hunt. If you don't come out and face me . . ."
There was a loud boom-Guizbatt's voice, no doubt-followed by the tinkling of broken glass hitting the pavement. No, not glass. Ice. Tōshirō peeked around the corner and cursed. The Quincy had destroyed the protective dome he'd erected over his Lieutenant. He was stalking towards her unconscious body.
"I will start with this woman. Then, if you still refuse to stand before me, I will begin flattening the Seireitei. If even then you hide, I will accept your cowardice. In such a case, I would not want to sully my hands with the blood of such a pitiful soul." He reached out, massive hand looming over Matsumoto.
No more hesitation! Tōshirō dove out into the street, wings fully reformed. He flew across the ground and sent a spike of ice ahead of him. The frozen spear crashed against the Quincy's back, tearing through his stretched white uniform without leaving a scratch on his skin. Blue-white veins flashed through the thick layer of hair growing there. Guizbatt turned, smiling. He opened his mouth, preparing a shout that would undoubtedly send Tōshirō tumbling back all over again.
A wall of ice wasn't going to cut it. Tōshirō dragged his blade against the ground, swinging it up into the air. A towering field of frozen spikes erupted along its path, heading straight for the wide-mouthed ape. A sound so loud it was barely audible destroyed the ice in an instant. That was alright. It wasn't supposed to hit. It only needed to draw his attention for a moment.
Tōshirō flew in from the side, using the hail of glittering ice crystals to cover his approach. He raised his sword and swung down at the Quincy's thick neck. Guizbatt's even thicker arm rose to catch the blade, however. Tōshirō pulled away as a giant hand swept through the air in front of his face. There was blood on Hyōrinmaru's edge.
"You got through my Blut. Well done, child." Guizbatt said, shaking his sliced arm. He made a show of flexing his fingers, but the cut wasn't that deep. It was a paper cut at best.
Tōshirō's brief training in the sword had been fruitful, but it was difficult to adapt those forms and techniques to airborne combat. Going forward, he was going to need both feet on the ground. A plan took shape in his mind. He needed more time. "You wanted me to fight you face to face. Well, here I am. Leave my Lieutenant out of this."
Guizbatt laughed, a thundering noise through his expanded throat. "Yes, here you are. But I never said anything about a fight, child. I simply wanted you to face your inevitable death like a warrior. As you have chosen to stand before me, I will honor your request and leave the woman until after I have killed you." He walked past Tōshirō towards the center of the street. Tōshirō followed, sparing a glance for Matsumoto.
They stood facing each other at a distance. The gap was too wide for Tōshirō's liking, but he would have to work with it. He would have liked more time to think too, but he was about to hit a wall. Only two petals remained of the twelve that once floated over his head. If he stalled any longer, he'd be rendered powerless.
"Come, Captain. Show me how a Shinigami should die." Guizbatt opened his mouth wide. He was about to roar.
Tōshirō pushed his ability with Shunpo to its limit and appeared underneath the gorilla-like man. He thrust the tip of his sword up, aiming for the Quincy's swelling throat. Guizbatt lifted his chin, avoiding the attack. He twisted his body so that one of his arms could snake inwards to grab at Tōshirō, who backed away, leaving a small patch of ice behind.
With that, his plan was now in motion. He dove in again, slashing at the ape's arms and legs and leaving inconspicuous frozen pools where he stepped. The Quincy was quick, much quicker than his size would imply, so not all of his counter attacks were avoidable. Tōshirō was accumulating damage faster than his opponent, and he was starting to feel the effects.
He was slowing down. His guerilla strikes stopped connecting altogether, and Guizbatt's counters started reaching him more solidly. One of his arms wasn't moving properly, the fingers stiff, some of them stuck bending at painful angles.
Just one more. Tōshirō rushed in, but he barely made an attempt to swing his sword. He didn't need to cut the opponent-that was never the point-he only needed to finish setting the trap. A hand-shaped foot, as large as Tōshirō's chest, slammed into him. He tumbled back, accumulating more damage. That was fine. The final piece was in place.
"This is growing tiresome, Captain," Guizbatt said, "I admire your spirit, but there comes a point where the dead must accept their fate." He could run his mouth all he liked. If it kept him from paying attention to the ground around him, he could start singing for all Tōshirō cared.
One of his remaining petals shattered as the trap was sprung. The pools of ice he'd left behind expanded instantly, coming together into one enormous glacier. The Quincy's body was encased in the clear boulder up to his neck. If his encounter with the fire-wielding Quincy was anything to go by, this prison would only hold for a few precious seconds.
That had to be enough.
Tōshirō stood, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg. He set his feet and lowered his center of gravity exactly the way he was taught. He straightened his back and held his sword in a close approximation of the proper posture. It was a basic stance. Something that total novices would be expected to master.
The Quincy laughed, "I'll admit, you got me. But you should know better. As long as there is breath in my lungs, The Roar will shatter anything you build. Leaving my head exposed like this will only make things easier for me!"
That was the truth as far as Tōshirō could tell. It stood to reason that he could make himself shrink the same way he grew, allowing him to open a cavity in the ice and giving his chest room to expand. But that was fine. If he was completely encased, he might have destroyed the ice right away. Leaving him room to breathe, and therefore boast, was a calculated decision. Albeit a hasty one.
Tōshirō slowly raised his sword over his head, careful to maintain proper form. He breathed in. Steady.
"I am sorry, little one, but I cannot allow this to go on any longer. It is simply too pathetic. I will finish this now so that you do not embarrass yourself any further." Guizbatt's chest expanded, filling the void in the ice and then some. The entire glacier cracked with a loud snap.
Tōshirō breathed out, swinging his sword in a straight, even line. A torrent of ice surged out of the edge of his Zanpakuto. The frosty blast enveloped the Quincy, prison and all, and transformed the street behind him into a frozen wasteland. A cool fog formed as a warm breeze blew over the road, then quickly faded.
Guizbatt's eyes were stuck wide open and bulging. He had his mouth open as if to roar, but no sound would pass through his lips now. He was encased in crystal clear ice from head to toe. Half of his body stood firmly on the ground. The other half was suspended just above. The cut ran from shoulder to hip. The ape-like Quincy was dead.
Tōshirō shivered. A bad sign. He needed to end his Bankai before the last petal dissolved. But he needed to check on Matsumoto, and he wasn't sure he could make the short trek to her side without the power boost Daiguren Hyōrinmaru provided.
He limped away from the bisected corpse, teeth chattering. It had been a long time since he last pushed his Bankai to this point. Honestly, he thought he'd outgrown this blowback. Yet another example of his arrogance. Even after all of this he had a great deal of growing to do.
He reached his Lieutenant, tripping several times on the way, and his Bankai collapsed. Before the last petal disappeared, thankfully. Still, strength fled his body and he collapsed beside Matsumoto.
As far as he could tell she was still alive. The relief alone nearly knocked him out cold. "Hey . . . Matsumoto," He tried to shake her awake, but couldn't even find the strength to lift his arm. He could barely keep his eyes open at this point. "Wake up . . . and call . . . back-up . . ."
No good. He was in no position to wake her. They'd just have to wait for someone to show up and help out. What a pain.
I guess that gives me a chance to rest. I'll just close my eyes for a bit.
He was drifting, the distant sounds of battle lulling him to sleep.
. . .
. . .
"Oh! What do we have here?"
"A couple of Shinigami . . . They look pretty messed up."
"Hey, isn't this one a Captain? He's so cute!"
Who is that? Tōshirō tried to open his eyes, but his lids refused to budge. He just barely managed to catch a glimpse. Quincies?! Damn it! Five women in white uniforms were loitering around. Why couldn't he catch a break?!
One of them knelt down and started prodding at Matsumoto's body. "I can have them, can't I, Candy?"
"Go for it. Not like I can get any use out of them."
"Yay! Isn't that great, Bambi? You'll have some real strong friends to play with."
Another woman knelt down and lowered her head, "Thanks . . . Gigi."
"There's a good girl. Now then . . ." The woman who was prodding Matsumoto turned to Tōshirō. The look in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine. "Welcome to the family, little Captain" Something wet dripped onto his face. A chill unlike anything he'd experienced burrowed its way through his body starting at that wet spot.
His back arched and his jaw clenched tight as if a strong electric current had passed through him. His eyes opened wide, but he couldn't see. Everything was a blinding white.
And then everything went black.
The pain followed close behind.