Two massive Spiritual Pressures exploded in the distance, and it was pretty clear that Kurotsuchi had encountered an enemy. Part of Ichigo worried for the Captain. From what he'd heard, the foes they'd likely encounter were the most powerful fighters the Quincies had to offer. Still, he kept his eyes forward.
He was no stranger to splitting up in order to fight on multiple fronts. This was part of the plan. It was dangerous, but necessary. He buried his concerns. The goal was still a ways off. He couldn't start having second thoughts.
Taking a deep breath cooled his anxiety.
A hole the size of a man's palm opened up in the 2nd Division Lieutenant's shoulder. The round Shinigami, Ōmaeda, hit the ground, rolling a fair distance before Shinji caught him and dragged him behind a large pile of rubble. The other members of the group scattered at the same time, trying to take cover from attackers they couldn't see.
"It appears we have a sniper," Urahara-san said as he rummaged through a pile of debris behind a partially collapsed wall.
Ichigo did his best to determine the location of the enemy, but he wasn't able to find anything. The sniper must have been quite a ways away if he wasn't suppressing his Spiritual Pressure.
Inoue stood up and crept to the edge of their hiding place. With a deep breath, she dashed out of cover before Ichigo could ask what she was doing. He almost ran after her, but he didn't even have a chance to stand before the sniper struck.
A powerful blast of Reishi burst across the surface of Inoue's quickly erected barrier, rocking the area with a brief shockwave. She dropped the barrier and dove into cover beside Shinji. She set to work healing Ōmaeda's wound without skipping a beat.
Everyone was stunned silent, except Urahara-san, who continued to rummage. Eventually, he pulled out a long splinter of wood and placed his hat on one end. He laid prone, holding the piece of wood out in front of him, dangling his hat so that it would peek out from around the corner.
A palm-sized hole opened up in the wall, splitting Urahara-san's make-shift pole in two. "Well, at least we know he's targeting us by sight. You all go on ahead. I should be able to keep this one busy." Urahara-san nodded to Kyōraku, but the Captain-Commander shook his head.
"I think it would be best if I took this sniper on. Based on Liltotto's information, there should be much greater threats waiting up ahead, so we'll need your ingenuity." Kyōraku stood from his hiding place and started moving out into the open. "Besides, I have a bone to pick with this particular Quincy. Captain Hirako, you're in charge. Get our people to the palace."
Shinji helped Ōmaeda to his feet, mumbling something under his breath. Displeased at the sudden shift in command as he was, he still called out, "You all heard the man, let's keep moving. You too, Zaraki! There're bigger fish to fry further along!"
As Kyōraku stepped out into the open, the rest of the group sprinted down the road. The Quincy would have to choose between picking off their advancing group and eliminating a lone Captain. It was a gamble, but it seemed to have worked.
No attack came after Ichigo and the rest of the group.
And all they had to do was leave Kyōraku behind.
+ Shift +
Lille Barro smiled. The Captain-Commander of the heretical Shinigami was staying behind while the rest of the group fled. It was such an obvious distraction. Hilariously so. In any other situation, he would have immediately pursued the rest of the heretics and picked them off one by one. Fortunately, he wasn't the only one on lookout today.
That gave him a good enough excuse to turn his attention on the head of the snake.
He tracked Kyōraku Shunsui through his scope, keeping an eye out for any signs of trickery. Not a lot was known about the way this man fought, but Lille was aware of his penchant for games.
The Shinigami made no suspicious moves or overtures. He simply walked slowly out into the open, arms spread. He was inviting Lille to shoot him. Another obvious trap.
When Lille had punched a hole in the Captain-Commander's flesh beneath the 1st Division headquarters, it had been a surprise attack. He had assumed that one shot would be enough for a second-rate replacement, but Kyōraku had survived. The Shinigami were more resilient than he gave them credit for. Cockroaches.
He'd have to go for the sure kill this time.
Lille took aim, lining up the crosshairs with the center of Kyōraku's chest. He focused on that one point. He'd sever the spine, lop off large chunks of the lungs, and take a bite out of the heart. Slowly, carefully, he tightened his grip on the trigger. When he was sure the Shinigami wouldn't be making any sudden moves, he squeezed.
His rifle could fire bullets, physical or spiritual, whatever fit the situation. But his Schrift had no need for ammunition. The X-Axis was a power that eliminated space along a fixed ray. There was no dodging or defending. He hadn't managed to pierce that girl's shield, but that was an anomaly. In practice, there was nothing his Reiatsu could not bore through.
As expected, the Shinigami's chest opened up. His eyes widened, seeming to stare directly at Lille as they rolled back into his skull. His body hit the ground, rigid. Lille watched the corpse. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
"Daruma-san ga . . . Daruma-san ga . . .!" Lille bit his tongue. What was he saying? He recognized the tune, but couldn't quite place where from. "Daruma-san . . ." He tore his scope away from the Captain-Commander's corpse and searched the area around it. Something was definitely wrong. Those words were coming out of his mouth, but he wasn't saying them!
He bit his lip until blood dripped from his chin, but the chanting wouldn't stop. Kyōraku must have done something to him. That was the only explanation. He searched more frantically as the words continued to escape his throat. "Daruma-san ga . . . Daruma-san ga . . . Daruma-san ga Koron . . ."
"Da!" A shout from behind! Lille spun, leaping away from the source of the voice while taking aim. He barely managed to avoid a swipe of Kyōraku's sword, but the blade cut through the barrel of his gun, halving its length. How did he get so close? And from so far away!
Lille leveled his weapon against the Shinigami, trying to get a feel for his intentions. Captains were supposed to be fast, at least as fast as the Sternritter, but covering that much distance in a flash was bordering on teleportation. "What kind of demonic force allowed you to reach me so quickly?"
"Demonic force? Don't over think it, friend. It's just a kid's game." Kyōraku smirked, holding his blades out to the side.
A kid's game? What kid's game involved instantly moving between two locations?
Kyōraku blinked. "You don't know it? Daruma-san ga Koronda? It's pretty well known."
"I don't spend much time playing kid's games. Saving the world is more important."
"Well then, I'll explain the rules. It wouldn't do if we weren't all on the same page." He pointed one of his swords at Lille. "You are 'it.' My goal is to make it to you without being caught. Thing is, if you catch me moving, I lose. Sound fair?"
Lille smiled despite himself. A devil binding itself to a set of rules? How convenient. "Sure does. So, shall we get started, Captain?"
"Ah, still confused, I see." Kyōraku smiled. His eye glittered with a sinister light. "The game is already well underway," he said. Then he vanished.
"Daruma-san . . ." Lille began chanting against his will as he scanned his surroundings. Kyōraku's Reiatsu was gone. He'd completely disappeared. Fine. Close combat was far from Lille's specialty, but he had plenty of experience fighting opponents he couldn't sense.
He rested his gun on his shoulder and continued to scan the area. He knew how Kyōraku would attack. It was a basic tactic. One that had been drilled into him by training with the Quincies over the years. Disappear and hit their blind side.
Kyōraku's Reiatsu reappeared behind Lille.
Too simple.
He pulled the trigger and heard a grunt. Lille turned just in time to see the Captain-Commander fall to his knees, a hole in his chest. "That trick barely worked the first time. Did you really think I'd fall for-" A presence at his feet . . . Behind!
Lille threw himself to the side, just barely ducking the edge of Kyōraku's blade. "You were saying?" The Shinigami said, appearing as if from Lille's own shadow. "Really though, well done avoiding it a second time. Not many can claim to have done the same."
Lille pulled the trigger, blowing off the front of one of Kyōraku's feet. The Shinigami doubled over with a grunt. Another shot nearly decapitated him. He fell in a heap with a satisfying thud.
A fitting end for a heretic. Unceremonious and quick. It was too good for a Shinigami, however. It was a testament to HIs Majesty's benevolence that he did not intend to make the perpetrators of the world's suffering suffer themselves. Perhaps Lille should try to emulate that graciousness. He was, after all, an agent of the new world's God.
"Do not curse your weakness, Shinigami. This is divine judgment. None can stand against it." He lowered his head in a shallow bow. A sign of respect to a fallen soul. He tried not to spit as he did it.
A sound like rushing wind sent a chill up Lille's spine. He dove, spinning to find Kyōraku Shunsui, alive and well.
"You bastard! Quit hiding behind your illusions!"
"Illusions? You're wrong about that." Kyōraku raised one side of his mouth in a lazy smirk. "I'm not doing anything so sneaky. All I'm doing is leaving my Reiatsu behind when I slip away. It isn't my fault if you can't tell the difference.
Lille bit his lip, forcing his trembling fists to settle. The enemy was trying to provoke him.
And it was working.
He flicked his arm out and pulled the trigger at the same time, punching another hole in Kyōraku's body. He got the feeling it wouldn't be the last.
As expected, Kyōraku sprang up behind Lille again and again, and no matter how many times he was shot, he kept reappearing.
Lille began to sweat. He dodged yet another close swipe, losing a larger chunk of his gun in the process. It wasn't a debilitating loss-It would still function regardless, and the weapon was more of a focus for his power than a feature of it-but it was humiliating nonetheless.
An agent of God should not be humbled so!
He growled, stepping gingerly as Kyōraku circled him. He was a diver in a cage and the Shinigami was the shark. And the situation was only growing worse. The wide, curved blades bit into his skin, tearing his uniform and staining its pristine surface with blood. Another attack caught what remained of his rifle, knocking it from his hands and effectively destroying it.
"You're scared, aren't you, Shinigami?" He shouted through clenched teeth. Another attack, another double. More humiliation. "God's light sears your flesh, so you hide in the shadows!" Something tugged at his arm and he couldn't stifle a whimper. Kyōraku's sword had just slipped under his arm, nearly severing the limb.
He could only move two of the fingers on that hand now, and he could barely move it without an excruciating, stabbing pain. Panic clawed its way through his skull. The Shadows. It had to be the shadows! With a shout, he held out his good arm. His rifle reformed, good as new, ready to be fired.
Lille didn't bother to take aim. He spread his legs and pointed the barrel at the rooftop between his feet. He pumped the gun full of Reishi and fired several powerful shots directly into the building beneath him. The rooftop rumbled as his bullets exploded. If the Shinigami had been using his shadow as cover, he must certainly have felt that.
The building began to collapse, but Lille did not flee. He had nothing to fear from such a pedestrian hazard. He had the blessings of God. He'd be fine.
Kyōraku, on the other hand, would surely be buried. That put a smile on Lille's face and numbed the pain somewhat. As he stood upon the shattered remains of the structure, he could breathe easy knowing . . .
The sound of shifting stone drew his attention. He did not wait to confirm the presence of the enemy, he simply aimed and fired. With successive shots he pulverized what remained of the building, adding a mountain of rubble to the landscape.
Of course Kyōraku would be unfazed. He was a Gotei Captain, among the strongest of the Wandenreich's foes. Lille should have known better than to assume this fight would be so simple.
Kyōraku emerged from the pile of stones and wood. He stood with his weapons ready, but did not move. This was likely another doppelganger-the Captain-Commander had not actually attacked from the front even once-so Lille waited. An attack was coming, he just needed to figure out the timing.
Another one of Kyōraku's doubles emerged. Then another, and another. Just like that, Lille was surrounded. He turned, watching each illusion carefully. According to the rules of Kyōraku's game, Lille would win if he could catch sight of the Shinigami before he could attack. He wasn't entirely sure what winning would earn him in this context, but considering the nature of the game so far, he could guess.
He'd spot Kyōraku and would gain an opportunity to attack. With The X-Axis, all he needed was that one shot. He'd punch a hole through the Shinigami's skull!
The doppelgangers started to move. They took short, deliberate steps to the side, circling Lille like a flock of carrion eaters. They were trying to disorient him, but his eyes were too sharp for that. More than that, his senses were sharp enough to track each individual illusion even though they were identical. As the pace of the spinning picked up, Lille became convinced that he knew exactly what Kyōraku was planning.
The doubles would start to close in, likely waving their swords in a threatening way. The hope would be that Lille would be so distracted by trying to figure out which one was real, he'd carelessly forget about attacks coming from below. Kyōraku was underestimating him.
Perfect.
Lille closed his eyes, letting his spiritual sense do the heavy lifting. He could feel the doubles circling faster and faster, and sure enough, they started closing in as they spun. The key would be to wait until the very last moment; the moment when Lille would be so overwhelmed by the advance of the illusory enemies that he fixated on one to shoot. That was Kyōraku's opportunity to strike. And Lille's as well.
The doubles inched closer. He could almost hear the rustling of robes as he waited, softly chanting, "Daruma-san ga Koronda . . . Daruma-san ga Koronda . . . Daruma-san ga Koron-" There!
In a flash, Lille had his rifle shouldered and sighted right at his feet. Without any hesitation, he pulled the trigger. He missed the head, embarrassingly, but he did open a good sized hole in Kyōraku's chest as he emerged from the shadows beneath. The light faded from his shocked expression as he lurched back onto the rocks.
Then he vanished.
The corpse faded away like a mirage. It wasn't real.
"Well played, kid." A voice whispered into Lille's ear as a wide curved blade erupted through his chest. He stared at the broad tip, dripping with his blood as the other doubles all disappeared. All but one. "That was a well-reasoned decision. It's simple bad luck that you ended up against a veteran player."
Lille did not breathe. There was no point. He could see, very clearly, that he'd just drown in his own blood. Pain was a distant concern as freezing oblivion radiated out from his chest.
He'd punched holes in too many enemies to count. Fellow Quincies, Hollows, even the odd Shinigami on rare occasions. A sea full of corpses churned in his wake. And now, after nearly four centuries of life-or-death struggles, the waters were rising up to take him too.
It was frustrating.
It was infuriating.
It was terrifying.
No. He couldn't accept such an end. He couldn't accept any end.
No, no, no, NO!
Lille Barro was God's messenger! An agent of the Divine! He could not fall to the blade of a filthy Shinigami. He could not fall, period!
His was a soul blessed by righteousness. His was a soul touched by truth. To die here would be to make a mockery of everything he believed in. It would be dirt in the eye of the world. He would not accept this.
He. Would. Not!
Raging against the encroaching cold, Lille drank in the ambient Reishi of the Soul Society. Power flowed into him in sloshing waves unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He could not afford to be reserved now. He could not afford to hold back.
It shamed him greatly to resort to this, but he needed to see the world His Majesty would create. He belonged there.
Kyōraku Shunsui was not worthy, regardless of his station, but he would be blessed this day. He would be the only soul other than His Majesty and Lord Haschwalth to bear witness to Lille Barro's heavenly ascension!
Lille felt the Shinigami's blade slide out of his chest as a blinding blue/white pillar erupted around him. This was a power he would dedicate to spreading the will of God and punishing sinners.
Vollständig.
+ Shift +
Shunsui shielded his eye and put some distance between him and the Quincy. He recognized that enormous pillar of light. Vollständig was a troubling ability when wielded by weaker Sternritter, so it stood to reason that the same technique would be a nightmare to deal with in one of their elites.
The light began to fade, and Shunsui caught his first glimpses of his opponent's new form. He expected to see the man healed and bearing a fresh pair of wings. The transformation was much more pronounced, however.
Lille Barro no longer looked human. The bulk of his body appeared to be wrapped in a large robe with a collar that rose up behind his head. He had no arms that Shunsui could see, and his legs tapered off into sharp points. The only part of him that still resembled the man he'd been fighting was his face, but even that left an unsettling impression. A pair of bright lines crossed over his mouth, covering it and wrapping back over his too smooth head.
A set of glowing wings unfurled behind him. They hung as if suspended by wires and did not appear capable of actual flight due to a series of holes in each wing, three each. A wide halo floated just above his head, glowing with the same bright light.
He almost resembled a strange kokeshi doll the way he bobbed just above the ground. That less than threatening illusion crumbled the moment he turned to look Shunsui in the eye. This thing was a monster. There was nothing fun about it.
"Rejoice, Shinigami! You are in the presence of divinity! This is the vehicle for God's will, Jilliel! In these final moments of your life, behold my holy visage and repent!" Lille's voice echoed in Shunsui's mind. How uncomfortable.
A quip died on Shunsui's lips as the holes in the Quincy's wings began to glow, radiating an ominous feeling like a powerful wind. As the holes flashed, Shunsui twisted, trying to make himself as small a target as possible.
It worked . . . a little. Large holes opened up in the rubble around him while no such cavity formed in his body. He did not miss the sizable chunks missing from his arm and one of his legs, however. Great, he thought, now he's got a bunch of guns. Just my luck. The holes started glowing again, but Shunsui wasn't about to wait around for another round of shots. He sunk into the shadows of the ruined pile and resurfaced inside an adjacent building.
Suppressing his Spiritual Pressure would only get him so far, so he had to make the most of this hiding spot. If he waited too long, the Quincy would get impatient and start firing off wildly. Hiding wouldn't do him much good then. He slunk up to a window and peeked out. Lille was already looking right at him, wings primed.
Shunsui prepared to duck back into the shadows, but then something strange happened. Lille did not fire. Instead, his body began to twist in on itself. He vanished in the blink of an eye. Was he invisible, or was this some kind of illusion? Whatever it was, Shunsui didn't want to be around for whatever came next. He turned to move, but Lille popped into existence beside him, wings still shimmering with power. A sound like a derisive scoff echoed in Shunsui's mind.
So he could teleport . . . That wasn't good.
"Hadō #78!" Shunsui swiped at the air with one of his blades, leaving a dense ring of Reishi in its wake, "Zangerin!" The ring expanded, tearing into the Quincy elite and the building around them with explosive power.
Lille flinched at the impact, but shrugged it off, completely unharmed. The building, however, did not fare so well. The walls buckled, and the ceiling caved in all at once as the entire structure collapsed. The resulting dust cloud made for adequate cover. Or so Shunsui thought.
Clean holes opened up in the dust as he tried to flee. Identical holes appeared in his shoulder and abdomen. He slid to a stop clutching his stomach. Blood spilled out from between his fingers at a concerning rate.
The dust cloud was blown away all at once by a pulse of Spiritual Pressure with Lille at its center. He floated over casually, looking down his nose at Shunsui as if from on high. His aura was painfully smug. "Did you think you could escape God's justice? How laughably absurd. The Lord's eyes see all, and His spear reaches all. There is nowhere to hide for one as depraved and sinful as yourself, Kyōraku Shunsui."
"I hate to admit it, but you're right. Trying to play this the usual way was a misstep on my part," Shunsui sighed. Trying to hold his cards close to his chest wasn't the most useful strategy this close to the end of the conflict. If the enemy was going to go all in, then he had to do the same.
Hopefully, the others were far enough away not to get caught in the crossfire.
Shunsui sank to the ground, crossing his legs. He rested his extra blade on his lap and held the other out in front of him, tip down.
"What is this, some kind of surrender? Or perhaps you are starting another game." Lille looked down at Shunsui. At the moment, he was in a position of complete control. He did not attack, though. "Fine then. As I am a merciful agent of heaven, I will allow you one final game."
"The time for games is over, I'm afraid. There is a tale I'd like to tell you, however." Shunsui released his sword and its tip sank into the ground, melting away into a thick stream of ink. The dark fluid pooled around him, then stretched out towards Lille like the roots of a gnarled tree. He felt a familiar weight settle on his back as his Zanpakuto's spirit wrapped her arms around his neck.
A comforting, deadly embrace.
Shunsui's power expanded, changing the world around him in a dramatic way. Colors appeared washed out and contrasts heightened. Gloom darkened the sky, leaving the surrounding area heavy with a sense of despair.
Lille looked around, seeming alarmed for a brief moment, before he narrowed his eyes and fixed his gaze back onto Shunsui. That heavenly mercy was running thin, apparently. "What is this?" he demanded.
"This is my Bankai. What you're seeing is the setting for the story you are about to hear."
"An illusion, then. Your tricks are starting to get on my nerves, Shinigami."
Shunsui shook his head, still sitting. The Quincy wasn't listening. A shame.
Lille scowled, rising high into the air. He called down, voice quivering with excitement. "I will admit, Kyōraku Shunsui, the Wandenreich did not have any information on your Bankai, so it is a mystery to me. Unfortunately for you, that means I cannot risk falling into some sort of snare." The holes in his wings started glowing, getting brighter by the second. "There is one thing I do know about Zanpakuto. If the sword's wielder disappears, so too do the weapon's effects!"
Intense beams of light shot out of Lille's wings as he laughed maniacally, reaching the ground instantly, and causing tremendous destruction. Buildings all around shattered, giant holes opening in their foundations. Shunsui waited amidst the devastation. The Quincy was trying to cut off his escape routes. A good strategy . . .
If the target intended to escape.
The beams closed in, flickering as Lille fired again and again in quick succession. Then, suddenly, they stopped.
Shunsui looked up at the angelic Quincy. He knew exactly why the barrage had stopped. Lille stared, eyes wide and wild, at the gaping hole in his abdomen. He descended quickly, kicking up a wave of dust as he stopped just above the ground. He clearly wanted to know what was going on, but all he got out were grunts and gasps.
"This is the First Act," Shunsui explained. "Hesitance and Apportionment of Wounds. This is the story of a man who shares a powerful, yet painful bond with his partner. The intensity of youthful love drew their souls together, allowing the man to experience whatever his partner did. Unfortunately, this included the pains she suffered." Another hole opened up beside Lille's head, where his shoulder usually would have been."
"This isn't real!" Lille sputtered, feeling every agonizing flash of pain from Shunsui's wounds. "It is an illusion!"
"You are wrong, I'm afraid. This is Katen Kyōkotsu Karamatsu Shinjū." Shunsui said, smiling. He felt his Zanpakuto's grip tighten. "She can be a bit temperamental, so be a good boy and listen quietly, alright?"
Lille trembled violently. His face contorted into a wrinkled visage of pure rage. "No more games! I'm going to destroy you, piece by piece! There will be nothing left of you when I am done!" The holes in his wings glowed, but Shunsui did not move. There was no need.
The Second Act had already begun.
Black spots suddenly appeared all over Lille's body. He convulsed, shrieking as the dark sores started leaking blood. His wings stopped glowing.
"The Pillow of Shame," Shunsui said, narrating. "Frustrated and impotent, the man lashes out at his dearest one. He makes her hurt, leaving bruises and scars that go much deeper than the marks left on her body. He remembers that, once, his love transcended the space between souls. He feels the terror and pain, sharing the very injuries he inflicted, body and soul. Great shame turns to terrible illness."
Lille twisted his body, writhing in pain. There was blood dripping from his nose and eyes now. If his mouth was exposed, he'd surely be coughing up blood as well. It was strange. Shunsui imagined a divine creature's blood would look different, but it was red, the same as everybody else.
The Quincy rose into the air slowly. Was he trying to escape? How sad.
"You should remain seated. The Third Act is about to begin." The gloomy landscape changed. The air became thick and viscous until it seemed that Shunsui and Lille were submerged in a deep lake. Shunsui clenched his fists, feeling the atmosphere drawing out his power. This part was always a struggle. "Welcome to The Severing Abyss. In this place, our Reiatsu will continually be drawn out. If we run out, we die."
"The man's guilt pierces him over and over, leaving injuries far worse than the physical scars he inflicted on his partner, and thus himself. It weighs on his spirit, suffocating him as he lays bedridden. He considers ending his suffering by throwing himself into a nearby lake. He considers the pain this would inflict on the one he loves, and yet still desires an end to his own suffering. His guilt becomes that much heavier."
A gurgling croak escaped Lille's throat. He turned his eyes upward, towards what appeared to be the glowing surface.
His reaction was reasonable. When one was drowning, it made sense to scramble to get out of the water. Too bad they weren't actually underwater. Lille straightened his body, pointing like an arrow at the brightness overhead. He was trying so desperately to escape, but he wasn't moving an inch.
It was incredible how quickly his angelic bravado fell apart.
Katen Kyōkotsu's embrace tightened.
"At last, we come to the Final Act," Shunsui announced, ensuring the Quincy would hear him. "The man rages at the one he once loved, blaming her for the suffering that he, ultimately, inflicted on himself. He alternates between spitting vitriol and begging for forgiveness, raving like a madman. His pleas and cries fall on deaf ears. His partner, finally seeing the gnarled rot deep within her beloved's soul kneels beside him. She produces a knife and holds the blade to his neck. Desperation stifles the man's pitiful cries. He begs one last time, quite yet intense, to be forgiven. His partner drags the knife across his neck."
Letting out a frantic scream, Lille abandoned his escape, opting to instead charge at Shunsui. Perhaps if he had chosen this course earlier, he could have succeeded. It was too late now. The story was so close to the end that there was simply no stopping it.
Shunsui turned, tracing a line through the air with his fingers. It was mostly a symbolic gesture, but his Zanpakuto loved the drama of it.
Lille's screech stopped abruptly as a fine cut opened his throat. He hurdled past Shunsui, trailing a thick stream of blood. He hit the ground, rolling end over end. He continued to thrash as the neck wound opened wider and wider. It wouldn't be long now.
With a sickening pop, Lille's head disappeared, depositing skull fragments and gray matter on the road. His wings fell limp and his body finally stilled.
The curtain fell.
And so did Shunsui. The effects of his Bankai took their toll, leaving him feeling completely drained. He dropped to the ground as if he were lying down for a nap. Katen Kyōkotsu gently cradled his head, humming a comforting tune, so the side effects weren't all bad.
"I'd say that's a job well done," he said, sighing. His Zanpakuto responded by running her fingers through his hair. That really hit the spot. All of his tension melted away. Shunsui closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He really should take a moment to recover and catch up with the rest of the group, but they'd probably forgive him a short nap.
He started drifting, relishing this moment away from the responsibilities of leadership.
A powerful blast of Reishi tore into his stomach, shocking him awake.
Shunsui gasped for breath and searched frantically for the source of the attack. His eye immediately fell on Lille Barro's headless corpse.
It was floating, a diminishing glow coming from one of the holes in its wings. The bloody stump of Lille's neck squirmed and bubbled. Then it started to grow. He was regrowing his head.
Flesh rose out of the blood and took on a vague, round shape. It resembled a human head in many ways, but in many others it was horribly corrupted. No ears appeared out of the side of the head as the skull finished forming. His eyes emerged bulging out of their sockets. In place of his nose, a large, beak-like appendage grew. The shape was reminiscent of some kind of distorted bird.
The beak opened, revealing a mouth filled with short, flat teeth. Lille immediately started shrieking. "Insolence! Heresy! Such things should not be! I am an agent of God! My word is law!" As he screamed, his Reiatsu started to grow. No, it exploded. Shunsui couldn't decide which hurt worse, the new hole in his gut or the Spiritual Pressure bearing down on him.
Lille's body writhed and pulsed. The parts of his torso where his shoulders would normally be folded in on themselves twisting and churning like mounds of wet clay. A pair of emaciated limbs grew there. They looked human for the most part, save for their uncanny length and perfectly circular holes punched in the palms..
"My holy mission is to protect His Majesty, God of the new world!" Lille squawked, swinging his arms in wild arcs. "It is my sworn duty. A divine mandate! I will not allow some lowly Shinigami, no better than a filthy beast, stop me from proving my worth!" A soft glow traveled up one of his gangly arms, growing brighter as it came closer to the hand. By the time it reached Lille's open palm, it was almost blinding. "The word of God will drown out all heresy!"
Lille fired a beam from his outstretched hand. It struck the ground just below him, tearing a deep hole out of the stone. Unlike the shots he'd fired so far, however, it didn't stop at one clean hole. The beam persisted, snaking along the ground, leaving a deep trench in the road. A trench that was heading straight for Shunsui.
It took a great deal of effort to push himself to his feet. Fortunately, impending doom was a great motivator. Ignoring the seething pain and the blood soaking his robes, Shunsui dove for cover. The beam followed him, but before it could reach, he melted into the shadows.
A short time later, he emerged. At a safe distance, he hoped. Not that it mattered at this point. Two gaping holes in his gut, a chunk of his shoulder missing, and his Reishi severely drained by his own Bankai . . . Shunsui was in bad shape. He slumped back, letting Katen Kyōkotsu lay his head on her lap. She stroked his face with delicate fingers. Her fingernails gently scraped against his skin.
You've been playing quite hard, haven't you? Perhaps it's time to rest, Shunsui. Her voice was soothing.
"That sounds nice, but right now, I get the feeling I'd end up taking more than a little nap."
That's alright. You deserve a rest. Take as long as you like. Thank you for keeping me entertained.
Shunsui took a deep breath, feeling the pain of his wounds melt away. He really was tired, and this little alleyway was surprisingly comfortable. Maybe he could rest for a short while.
His eye slid shut as his Zanpakuto hummed a pleasant tune. So peaceful . . .
"Captain-Commander! Wake up!" Somebody shouted into Shunsui's ear, yanking at his collar until his head swung from side to side. How was a guy supposed to get any shut eye like this?
It took more effort than he was happy admitting, but he opened his eye. He saw someone leaning over him. When his vision finally cleared up, he was shocked. "Nanao? What are you doing here?" Shunsui said, trying to sit up . . . and not doing a very good job at it. He wanted to scold her something fierce for jumping into a fight like this, but instead of harsh words, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"Captain!" Nanao pressed her trembling hands against the wounds in his gut. It hurt, but considering the situation, he couldn't fault her. She wasn't accustomed to battle in general, let alone a fight that could leave a Captain so heavily injured. A soft glow enveloped her hands.
An icy chill shot through Shunsui's body as his depleted Reiatsu was restored. He wasn't fully recovered-not by a long shot-but at least he wasn't on death's door anymore. Now he just needed his wounds to close up. Nanao could do it, given enough time. Too bad they didn't have that luxury at the moment.
Shunsui sat up with a groan and pushed his Lieutenant's hands away. "Reliable as always . . . Nanao, you need to get away from here. Get back to the group and help them along."
"Don't give me that!" She looked more hurt than he expected. Always the serious one. "I know full well how dangerous this enemy is. Do you really think I'd leave you to face that on your own?!"
"Nanao!" Shunsui said, as firm as he could manage. She jumped, eyes widening. "It makes me happier than I can express that you're so willing to leap into danger for my sake, but this is part of the plan. If I can stop this guy from interfering, then it's fine if I die. But you . . ." He reached out, taking her hand in a tight grip. "You need to live through this. For my sake, and for the sake of the Seireitei as a whole." He leaned back, trying again to rise, but his wounds were still too tender.
Nanao looked at him with painfully worried eyes. Her whole body trembled. She looked so scared that she might just pass out. That would be fine, as long as it kept her out of the fight. Shunsui clicked his tongue, once again failing to stand. He didn't want to see Nanao's dejected expression anymore. Sure, he was being unfair and cruel, but he had good reason to be. He had a duty.
Pain shot through his gut as Nanao pressed her hands back onto his wounds. Any protest he could have made died in his throat when he saw the look on her face. It was the same look she gave him when he drank too much, only . . . more intense? It certainly made him feel like a child being reprimanded.
She raised her hands, allowing the medical Kidō to do its work. She kept her attention on the healing while she spoke. "Why aren't you using the Zanpakuto my mother gave you?"
If Shunsui had been drinking, he would have choked. "Ah, so you know about that?" He said, accepting his lieutenant's knowledge as another facet of her serious nature. "And here I thought I was being real sneaky."
"This is hardly the time for jokes, Captain. Please, if she gave you that sword, there must have been a reason. If it's a powerful enough tool, then you should be using it."
"That's the thing," Shunsui chuckled. "I couldn't use it as anything other than a blade if I wanted to. It has an ability that functions automatically, but I can't bring out any of its latent potential. I can swing it around, but it won't ever recognize me as its proper wielder."
"What does that-" Before Nanao could finish her question, a blinding light filled the alley. And along with it, a terrible Reiatsu.
"There you are." Lille Barro's voice barely sounded human anymore. He trumpeted more than he spoke.
Shunsui didn't wait to see if an attack would come. He whipped off the flowered kimono he kept as a reminder and, in the moment before it was obliterated by Lille, sank into the shadow it cast along with Nanao.
The sounds of the Soul Society vanished along with any hint of light. All that remained of the outside was a faint impression of Spiritual Pressure. Shunsui looked at Nanao, panting at the close call. With his Reiatsu restored, he'd be able to maintain this shadowy realm for a short while. That gave him a chance to catch his breath. And to come clean.
There were secrets he'd been withholding from his Lieutenant for most of her life. It was time she learned what they were all about.
+ Shift +
Nanao sat in the darkness of Captain Kyōraku's Kageoni, breathing deeply. Or, at least, trying to. For all of her experience as a Lieutenant of the Gotei 13, she wasn't terribly familiar with these sorts of encounters. It was one thing to stand before a powerful Hollow. It was another thing entirely to face a foe whose very presence could potentially crush her.
She had chosen to return to assist her Captain though, so she wasn't about to back down. No matter how badly her knees shook. "So,' she said, pushing through the nerves, "What's the plan? I doubt you'd try and win this fight alone without one."
"Sit." Captain Kyōraku gestured to the shadowy space in front of him. Nanao waited for him to elaborate, but after a few moments, she did as instructed. "I'm going to be totally honest with you, so brace yourself. I didn't have any sort of plan to win."
"Are you crazy?! Did you expect to die then?"
"I did." He said it with a frankness that made Nanao's heart hurt. "This Quincy seems to have a regenerative ability that can overcome my Bankai. The best I would have been able to do was keep him busy. Eventually, though, he would have caught me." He breathed in sharply, placing a hand over his gut wound. Sitting up like this was clearly putting a lot of stress on the injury. "I wanted to keep you out of harm's way. It was part of the promise I made to your mother."
Nanao opened her mouth, but she fell short of voicing her questions. She had fond memories of her mother, but the fact was, she died when Nanao was young. After so much time, she had to admit that her mother was an enigma to her. She wanted to know more; about her mother and the mysterious burden Captain Kyōraku had been carrying since her mother's death. "How did you know my mother?" She settled for a simple question. Bombarding the Captain with specific questions wouldn't get her anywhere.
"She was my sister-in-law. My older brother was your father. He died before you were born." He said it so simply! Nanao had always expected some kind of familial connection, but to have her theory confirmed still came as a shock.
"And the promise you made to her? Why did she give you my family's blade?" There were other questions burning holes in her brain, but she had to stay focused. If she could work out a way for the Captain to use the Ise family's Zanpakuto, then their chances of defeating the Quincy would surely go up. Assuming it did something useful.
"You've heard of the Ise family curse, I presume?" Nanao nodded. It was a silly superstition, but many of her ancestors were noted to have believed in it. Captain Kyōraku continued, "Only women are ever born into the Ise family. This is true as far back as the family's history has been recorded. Whenever a man marries into the family, they die young. Usually just before their children are born."
"That's certainly a disturbing pattern, but to call it a curse is . . ."
"Your mother believed. Wholeheartedly." Nanao winced. She was quick to judge her ancestors, but all she had to go on were official histories. The Captain knew her mother and the situation surrounding the family first hand. "Your mother sought to end the curse, so she severed ties with the Ise family and married a man outside of their sphere of influence. Unfortunately, it didn't work. My brother died just before you were born, as had happened to every woman of her bloodline. After she had you, she developed a theory. She thought the cause of the curse and her misery was her Zanpakuto."
"That blade is an exceedingly rare case among Zanpakuto. It is not the blade of just one person, but of every member of the Ise family in succession, handed down from mother to daughter. Using that transferable nature. your mother entrusted the sword to me, hoping that by severing its connection to her, and by extension you, she could break the curse for good." Captain Kyōraku looked Nanao in the eye.
She held his gaze, though she was struggling to process the pain her mother must have endured. "So, your promise was to help her break the curse. To protect me?" Captain Kyōraku nodded, solemn. "And you can't make use of its power, since you aren't a member of the Ise clan. Then that means . . ."
"You'll have to do it." Did he have to look so dejected? So she'd have to fight . . . that was part of her job as a Gotei Lieutenant, wasn't it? "I'm sorry, Nanao, but I have to ask you to face that monster in my stead. I don't have the power to beat him, but you might."
The word 'might' sat heavily in Nanao's mind. She assumed that the Captain knew what the Zanpakuto could do, but she had no earthly idea. Was it really that powerful? Her ancestors were shrine attendants and administrators. What use did they have for such a weapon?
"I will return the blade to you, if you are willing to accept it."
Nanao hesitated. She talked a big game, wanting to fight with her Captain, but the reality was that she wasn't sure she could accomplish much. Even with a powerful weapon, her lack of experience in wielding it would likely result in failure.
But what other choice did she have? If she refused, Captain Kyōraku would leave her and die at the hands of the Quincy. Could she really live with herself if that happened? Of course she couldn't! There was a good chance of death either way, so she had to pick the option that gave her and the Captain the best odds of survival.
"I am willing," She said. "I will accept my family's Zanpakuto, even if it is cursed."
"Alright then." Two women appeared behind Captain Kyōraku. They emerged from the shadows surrounding them like a mirage. The first was a tall woman with a wild headdress. She had a demanding aura about her. The second was a seemingly demure girl wrapped tightly in dark clothing. Her face was mostly covered by a mask pulled up over her nose. There was something oddly familiar about them. "Are those . . .?"
Captain Kyōraku nodded. "Katen Kyōkotsu. My Zanpakuto." The first woman smiled. She had such a warm expression. She reached into her sleeve and produced a parcel wrapped in cloth. The Captain took it from her and set it reverently on the ground in front of Nanao. "I never intended to give this to you, but I think you'll do well with it. I'm still going to worry, though." He sounded like a doting parent. It didn't fit his image in the least, but she let it slide.
Nanao felt like she was locking eyes with a dangerous animal when she looked at the bundle. A Zanpakuto was in there. Her Zanpakuto. She reached out, lightly brushing the worn cloth with her fingers, then drew her hand back. There was an energy there, in that moment of contact. It was wholly unfamiliar to her, yet somehow, she knew it.
An excitement swelled in her chest as she unwrapped the sword. It was short, no longer than her forearm. She liked that, as well as the sharp rectangular tsuba. It seemed easy to use; no unwieldy length or weight here. She curled her fingers around the hilt and sensed an exchange of Reishi. With this, she understood, the sword was hers. Truly hers.
She looked up, intent on expressing her gratitude, and found that one of the women representing Katen Kyōkotsu, the shorter of the pair, had wandered over to her. She stared down at Nanao, unblinking. Unnerving. Nanao thought she heard a soft voice, but it was such a weak impression that she dismissed it as a trick of her imagination.
"The women of Ise are well known as religious functionaries," Captain Kyōraku said, drawing Nanao's attention back to him. "Tending ceremonial sites and overseeing spiritual rituals allowed them to cultivate a proper, benevolent reputation. That was only on the surface, however. In truth, yours is a family of assassins mired in the thickest layers of the swamp that is Soul Society's nobility. Or rather, it was. Your mother saw an end to that. That Zanpakuto is a tool of that trade."
"It has no blade, as it does not cut the flesh." Nanao looked down at her sword and lightly swiped her finger over the edge. Nothing happened. It appeared to be a normal shortsword, but it was actually completely dull. "Even in its unreleased form, it accumulates Reiatsu from its targets, acclimating itself to their Spiritual Pressure. Once it reaches a certain threshold, it becomes capable of achieving Shikai. Upon release, the Zanpakuto will lock-on to its target and hone in on their spirit."
"Once that is done, your Zanpakuto will achieve Bankai. It will gain a true blade and seek out its target." Captain Kyōraku faltered, clutching his side. Nanao rushed to him, trying to resume healing the wound, but he pushed her hands away. "There's more, Nanao. That weapon does not possess the purifying properties of a normal Zanpakuto. Whatever you strike down with that sword will be gone for good. That's the kind of power you wield. Can you shoulder that responsibility?"
It went against everything she was taught, everything she believed, but she gripped the sword's hilt tightly. "I'll do it. This Zanpakuto is my mother's legacy, dark though it may be. I will carry this burden."
"Good." Captain Kyōraku winced as Nanao helped him to his feet. "Now, listen closely. I think I've come up with a plan."
+ Shift +
Another building collapsed. Such flimsy structures. A light breeze could blow them over. All Lille did was punch a few holes in their foundations. Quincy architecture was so much stronger.
He scanned the newest pile of rubble for signs of life, but found nothing. Again. Rage boiled inside of him. How dare these lowly Shinigami lead him on like this?! They were only delaying the inevitable with this pathetic game of hide and seek.
Kyōraku Shunsui was proving to be more of a hassle than Lille had anticipated. It wasn't right. It wasn't right! A rat, skulking through the shadows had no right to hide from the sight of a divine agent! There was no shadow that God's light could not banish!
Lille froze. How had he not seen it before?! Shadows . . . of course! He laughed as power accumulated in the core of his being. Not just his wings and his hands, his entire body shone like the sun.
He compressed that glorious power into a ball and released it all at once, bathing the area in a blinding divine light.
Kyōraku could hide in the shadows, but if there were no shadows, he would be forced to show himself! And when he did . . .!
Lille squawked, unable to contain his laughter.
But no matter how brightly lit the world below was, nobody appeared. That couldn't be right. There was nowhere left to hide!
He descended on the last remaining building in the area, standing on its peak. He looked over his shadow-less paradise, a sight that should have filled him with pride and joy, but felt only that same rage, now a tempest.
His only option was to bottle that fury. He had to keep it deep inside, otherwise he might lash out and destroy this world before His Majesty could mold it into something beautiful and just. If Kyōraku didn't show himself soon, though, he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back.
Desperate, he poured more power into his holy glow, eliminating the very possibility of shadow. The ball of light became so bright that not even Lille himself could look at it. He turned his face up, allowing his new beak to shade his eyes and letting his spiritual sense warn him of Kyōraku's presence.
Blessedly, it wasn't long after that he felt the Captain's Spiritual Pressure approaching. Now, where would he emerge from? It was close . . . inside the building at his feet, perhaps? The interior was well lit thanks to a myriad of holes, but still offered some shadows. But no, that didn't feel quite right. The Shinigami was closer somehow.
Where then? Where?!
Lille's eyes bulged as the Shinigami's Reiatsu appeared right in front of his face. Kyōraku, being assisted by another, weaker Shinigami, sprang forth from the shade produced by Lille's beak. The impudence!
He drew in a breath, exercising a godly level of restraint, and dismissed the glowing orb. There was clearly no longer any need for it.
Kyōraku was severely injured. They hadn't used their cowardly retreat to heal his wounds. A foolish misuse of time. Though, perhaps his companion simply wasn't proficient in the healing arts. She certainly wasn't very powerful. She wore the badge that designated a Lieutenant, but surely that couldn't be true.
The woman eased Kyōraku down and turned to face Lille. From her sleeve, she produced a piddly sword. It's appearance was laughable, but the look in her eyes-that determination, that insecurity-was hysterical.
+ Shift +
Nanao's knees were shaking. She did her best to reign them in, but she couldn't smother the quaking entirely. She held her sword in front of her in a standard sword form she learned early on in her time at Shin'ō. The only form she managed to learn. She tried to project an image of readiness, as if she could strike out as a competent swordsman at any point. The Quincy's booming laughter made it clear how poor her imitation was.
That squawking noise struck her nerves mercilessly, causing her to doubt. Could she really do this? The Captain said her sword would release when it was ready, but it was still in its unreleased form. Maybe she wasn't doing it right.
The impression of a soft voice reached her. She didn't really hear it, per say, but the barely audible sound carried meaning with it. A release phrase . . . that's what she was missing. It was so obvious. She was so far out of her depth here . . .
She took a deep breath and spoke as clearly as she could. "Observe, Hakkyōken!" A painfully long heartbeat passed, then the sword began to glow.
First, the Zanpakuto grew, extending to almost twice its original length. Then the blade transformed, expanding both forward and back until it was a long rectangle. When the light finally faded, Nanao gasped.
Her sword didn't look like a sword at all. It was covered in glittering golden cloth with small windows cut out on the flat sides of what was presumably the blade. Through those windows she could see metal so reflective that it couldn't have been anything other than a mirror. A pair of tassels hung from the cloth cover, swinging gently due to her unsteady stance.
If she had seen this weapon before, she could have believed it really was a tool for religious rituals and ceremonies.
Her grip on the hilt hadn't changed, but now it felt more natural, like it was built to fit her hands specifically. In fact, the entire sword felt lighter despite its growth. The fear that her lack of familiarity with swordplay would throw a wrench in Captain Kyōraku's plan lessened a great deal with this weapon in her hand.
Feeling confident, Nanao shifted her stance, bringing her sword up by her face and leveling it at the monstrous Quincy in front of her. She wasn't sure if it was a proper form, but with this Zanpakuto, she didn't think it mattered.
Lille Barro's laughter petered out into a snicker. He narrowed his unnervingly avian eyes at her. "I am shocked that you were capable of releasing your sword, Shinigami. I was under the impression that weaklings weren't able to do so. Regardless, no blade can reach me now. Even your Captain's powerful blade failed to strike me down!" Whatever mirth his voice held at the start was gone, leaving his words cold and malicious.
Nanao's confidence wavered. Her knees shook harder, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes.
The Quincy was right. Not even Captain Kyōraku could kill him. She wasn't entirely sure what Katen Kyōkotsu could do in Bankai, but she was certain it was supposed to be a sure kill. If this man survived that, then what could she possibly do?
The holes in Lille's wings started to glow. "You are a lamb to the slaughter, little Shinigami. But fear not, I have been granted the power to end your cursed existence. I will give you a moment to repent. Beg for His forgiveness!"
Nanao's form collapsed. She held her Zanpakuto limply in front of her and took a shaky step back. The light was so bright. It pulsed with a power so intense that it made her stomach churn.
Too powerful.
Tears streamed down her face as the Quincy loomed over her. How could she possibly have thought she could stand against that with a sword she only just claimed as her own? She couldn't. She couldn't do it!
But . . . she had to try. She'd worked too hard to give up.
She stayed strong through the death of her mother. She enrolled in Shin'ō, chasing a man who was entrusted with something precious. She struggled through her failure to manifest a Zanpakuto. She discovered her affinity for Kidō and excelled. She was assigned to the 8th Division and finally came face to face with the man she'd been chasing. None of that could have been accomplished if she ran away from hardship. She reached the point that she did because she stood her ground and persevered. And she would do the same here!
Even if that was all she could do.
She tried to raise her sword again, but her arms were shaking too much. She was just barely holding on to the thing.
Something wrapped around her shoulder and she jumped. She turned her head, wide eyed and on the brink of panic, and saw the face of her Captain. He looked about as rough as he ever had. His skin looked pale and he was sweating. It was a miracle he managed to stand on his own, even if he was leaning on her now.
Normally, she would have thought that seeing her Captain in such a state would only cause her worry to spiral out of control. Looking at him now though, smiling as if this was a routine procedure despite his injuries, calmed her nerves.
"You know," he said, nonchalant as ever, "I've been entrusted with many precious things in my life, and somehow, the people who give them to me always end up dead. A part of me thought that I was cursed myself. I figured, as long as I can keep these important things safe, I could break that curse." He wrapped his hand around Nanao's, holding her grip firm. With his help, she was able to raise the sword again. "I reckon you're the most precious thing that's ever been left in my care. I'm putting my faith in you to break these curses of ours, so trust me to support you."
Nanao's trembling stopped almost completely. Having the Captain at her side, supporting her like this, made her feel like she could do anything. "Thank you," she whispered. "But, Captain, no matter how I look at it, this danger seems insurmountable."
"Don't worry. Your sword has already done most of the work. It locked on to him as we fought. The enemy is in sight . . . All you need to do is swing." Captain Kyōraku's voice was getting weaker, that last piece of advice coming out in a rough whisper.
Was it really so simple? She looked at the reflective weapon in her hands and heard a faint urging. It was ready. It was time for the next step in the plan. Nanao tightened her grip and grit her teeth. "B-Bankai!" The Reishi being shared between her and the sword shifted, raging like a storm.
But nothing happened.
Nanao gasped, trying to figure out what could have gone wrong, but she'd never even achieved Shikai before this. She had nothing to go on. The sword didn't change at all!
At her side, Captain Kyōraku's grip loosened and he slumped against her. He was fading. Nanao tried to support him better, but he ended up collapsing onto the ground.
Her support gone and her Zanpakuto seeming to fail, Nanao panicked. She hyperventilated, trying desperately to think of a solution.
But nothing came to mind.
A shrill shriek came from the Quincy hovering a short distance away. The holes in his wings were growing brighter by the second. "Your sins are many, Shinigami! Greed! Arrogance! Ignorance! Tyranny! And perhaps worst of all, Weakness!" His voice rose to a fever pitch. "You are not fit to exist in His Majesty's new, perfect world!"
Nanao choked, pleading with her family's blade to work. To do something. Anything!
"This is your reckoning! Now, disappear!"
Frustrated, frightened, screaming, Nanao raised her bladeless sword and swung down with all her might.
Again, nothing.
She cried, feeling pitiful. She really was too weak. She was a failure. She couldn't protect anything. She couldn't live up to anyone's expectations. She couldn't-
The Quincy's light winked out.
Nanao's breath caught. She was so tense that she couldn't even cry anymore. She couldn't find the strength to raise her sword again. All she could do was hold her breath and watch. Why wasn't he attacking?
Lille Barro cocked his head. He looked at one of his wings, then the other. When he faced forward again, his eyes appeared to glaze over. Suddenly, his whole body jerked as if something had snapped. A line appeared running from the top of his head down through his torso. The line widened, and Lille's body began to shift. Half of him slid, sinking towards the ground. The other half followed a moment later, giving Nanao a clear view of the masked woman in the air behind him.
It was the sword spirit, one half of Katen Kyōkotsu. She hung in the air, hunched over, as if she'd just swung the short blade in her hands. Nanao met her eyes and a quiet came over the ruined street. She heard a faint voice, more of an impression, really, reporting a job done.
The sword spirit faded away and Hakkyōken flashed, returning to its unreleased state. All of Nanao's energy evaporated. Her legs gave way and she fell. But she didn't hit the ground.
"Whoa there." Captain Kyōraku caught her. He wasn't quite back on his feet, but he still managed to cushion her fall.
Nanao smiled, looking up at him, before exhaustion forced her eyelids shut. She took one deep breath and fell asleep.
+ Shift +
Shunsui breathed a sigh of relief. His gut was still in bad shape, but he'd live. Better yet, the enemy had been soundly defeated. Lille's body plummeted, but before he could hit the ground, both of his halves crumbled to dust and were blown away by the breeze.
"Well done, Lieutenant. Expect a commendation when this is all over." He tried to stand, struggling to lift her, and eventually made it to his feet.
Considering what he'd heard about the members of the Shutzstaffel, he'd fully expected to sacrifice himself for the greater good. Now, here he was, alive and mostly well. He could continue to contribute. All he had to do was catch up with the others.
He set off, making slow progress. After a few steps, though, his legs buckled and he fell to the ground again. This time, he wasn't sure he could get up.
"Guess that's it then. The others will have to settle for a few supportive thoughts," he said, chuckling.
He propped Nanao up against him and set to work healing himself. He wasn't in the best of conditions, so it was going to take a while. That was fine. He closed his eyes, listening to his Lieutenant breath softly beside him.
He'd done his job. Win or lose, at this point, it wasn't up to him.
Still, he was satisfied, regardless of the results.
+ Break +
Seston rapped her fingers on the arm of her throne. That is what it was. A Throne. No matter how bare and uncomfortable, this was a seat of power. She was placed here, not by some guiding hand, but by her actions; centuries of battling the contemptible Hollow threat. The people trusted her. They looked to her for guidance. Unfortunately, she was not alone in this regard.
Dōsei sat a few feet away in a cold copy of Seston's throne. He was biting his nails again. How far the noble warrior had fallen. Despite also possessing a weapon derived from the lynchpin itself, he'd grown nervous and jumpy in recent years. And it had only gotten worse when Seston revealed her intentions for her ascension. And it would be her ascension.
"What would the people think if they could see you now?" She said, her voice echoing through the empty chamber. She turned her head to level a glare at her counterpart. "The mighty Dōsei, reduced to a sniveling wreck."
He looked at her, returning a hostile gaze. "They can think whatever they like. It doesn't change what I've done. What I've sacrificed." He said with his teeth clamped down on a fingernail.
Seston scoffed at that. He spoke as if he were the only one to have sacrificed. They'd both given a great deal. It was why they were here in this barren chamber. They received great weapons as a result of a previous lynchpin's ascension, but now, those weapons were eating them alive. When they were consumed, one of them would become the next lynchpin.
It was a terrifying idea, she would allow him that, but he could at least maintain some measure of composure.
"Oh, don't look at me like that,' Dōsei said, finally taking his fingers from his mouth. "I've always been prepared to give my life to protect the people. But now that the lynchpin has decayed . . . Facing bloodthirsty Hollows doesn't even compare to the burden we're facing."
"You wouldn't be having such a crisis if you accepted my proposal. You want to protect? Then erasing the Hollows and the damnable realm from which they spawn is the best solution."
"And doom the world to an untimely end? You must forgive me, old friend, but I cannot be so heartless."
Seston bristled. "Even now, at the end of our lives, your perspective is so twisted. You say the original lynchpin stabilized the universe, but the creation of the Hollows occurred as a direct result of that interference with the natural flow. Their blight is a symptom of this world's unnatural continuation!"
Dōsei rolled his eyes. "Is that not why we fight them? Why we were given the power to defeat them? Don't you see, Seston? We were born to fight them. If the Hollows are the disease, then we are the cure."
"Utterly naive. The Hollows are a festering, bleeding cut. All we are is a patch. Nothing we've done has brought us any closer to healing that wound." Seston stood. Frustration compelled her to move her feet. "The lynchpin as a whole was a mistake. Take our predecessor, for example. They established a system that recycles souls, allowing spirits to make the journey spirit world and back again without being broken apart. It is a death sentence for all life, Dōsei. Eventually, every spirit will be whittled away, recycled endlessly until the empty husks of Hollows are all that remain."
"And so you seek to end the world? The future is bleak, so why continue living? Do you not see how flawed that perspective is? Yes, the creation of the Hollows and their realm has led to countless tragedies, and will surely lead to countless more, but it was that act of creation that brought balance to the world. We only exist because the universe was preserved."
It was Seston's turn to roll her eyes. "And how grand an existence it has been. An eternity of conflict and bloodshed. What is the point of preserving the universe if such a hell is all that awaits us?"
"Life!" Dōsei leapt out of his seat. He stomped his feet like a child throwing a tantrum. "Life and the experience therein is the reason! There is nothing more valuable. The Hollow threat might be ever present in this world, but we can always take up arms against them. We can fight to live. We can protect as many people as we can and ensure that they get to live too."
"Ridiculous. That's nothing more than idealism and you know it. What of the suffering those people experience, hmm? Is the fear of death and loss part of those valuable experiences you love so much?" That got his teeth grinding. Seston smiled. She knew he was on his back foot now. "It is fine to extol the virtues of existence, but if all we have to look forward to is an existence of suffering, then non-existence is preferable. People can live lives free of suffering, but not in the current system. For the sake of all people, the universe must be allowed to reach its natural end!"
Seston's words echoed, hanging in the air. Dōsei held his tongue. He still didn't see her logic, but she had long accepted that he never would. He'd lost his nerve when it became clear one of them would become the next lynchpin. The thought that Seston might take the position and change the world frightened him more than anything.
"It is good to see you two so energetic!" The Ritual Marshal laughed as he stormed into the chamber. His toothy smile and bulging eyes had always unnerved Seston, but Dōsei actually looked relieved to see him. "I'm sure you can sense it," he said, "the lynchpin is dissolving. It is time for the creation of a new one. Take your places, please."
Seston stomped past her throne and stepped up onto the simple platform at the back of the chamber. She eyed Dōsei as he took up his position next to her. He was chewing his nails again. Coward.
"Whenever you are ready, surrender yourselves to the powers growing inside of you. The fragments of the lynchpin should take care of the rest." The Marshal stood before them, arms folded over his prodigious beard. This was the first time two people had been raised at once, so it was his responsibility to observe.
One of them would ascend.
The other would be consumed.
Seston took a deep breath, likely the last she'd ever take. She could accept that. Her ascension would put the world back on the proper path. What greater purpose was there?
The dark power that had been her bow for much of her life wrapped itself around her soul. She felt its grip tighten and pull it away from her body. She expected to feel herself rising, but she got the impression she was being pulled to the side. She'd bump into Dōsei at this rate.
But wait . . . somehow, it felt as if Dōsei's soul was being pulled in the same way. She wasn't being pulled towards him, they were being pulled towards each other. Their powers were uniting before the ascension. That made sense. Of course both halves would need to fuse to form a new lynchpin. That was just common sense.
Seston turned to look at Dōsei one last time. For all of their disagreements, they'd fought together for a very long time. There was no one she'd rather trust her life to.
She blinked. Her eyes fell not on Dōsei, but on herself. Looking back at her.
The last moments before eternity took them both were filled with horror.
+ Shift +
Yhwach doubled over, gasping for breath. Sweat and spittle fell to the floor like rain, darkening the stone at his feet. That vision . . . it was so vivid. The passions within that woman were intense enough to leave him breathless.
Ukitake wheezed, gulping down air in a similar fashion. Like before, he'd seen the vision as well.
"That must have been jarring for you, standing in the shoes of one who so wholly rejects your ideals." Yhwach said, mocking his frail enemy. Surely, he could see the virtue of Yhwach's goal now.
The Shinigami lifted his head, looking confused. "What is that supposed to mean? Dōsei's philosophy was perfectly sound. Didn't seeing the situation from his eyes have any effect on your perspective?" He realized the strangeness of the exchange as he said it.
Ah . . . so that was what happened. They'd seen the same vision but from different points of view.
The first to wield Pernida and Mimihagi's power. The first to experience Kamikake. It was a little taste of what was to come for them.
"What I saw was the very first example of Balancer oppression, "Yhwach growled. "Seston's intentions were just, but the idealism of her companion corrupted them somehow. Otherwise she would have saved the world when she ascended."
"You're wrong. Dōsei's intentions were pure. If anything, It was that woman's apocalyptic ramblings that corrupted his vision. I saw clearly how ineffective their ascension became because of her influence."
Yhwach bristled at that, but Ukitake was correct on one thing. The power of the lynchpin could mold the world to the vision of the one who took that position. Seston and Dōsei's ascension hadn't had much of an impact at all. It almost reminded him of . . .
No, best not to think of that now. A more pressing concern was the similarity of that vision to their current predicament. If Yhwach did not manage to wrest control of the Soul King's arms from Ukitake, the Shinigami would be able to interfere.
Yhwach opened his mouth to continue the argument, but a sudden surge of power left him drained. He could barely breathe, let alone speak. He slumped, feeling Pernida's power tighten its grip on his soul. Ukitake collapsed, likely experiencing the same surge of power.
One of them had to take total control. Otherwise . . .
Everything would have been for naught.