Shattered Realms

by MJLCoyoteStarrk

Aizen's defeat has left a tense peace between Arrancars and Soul Reapers. The resulting isolation has lasted for 200 years, only to be broken by a covert expedition from the Soul Society that has vanished. A small group is sent out to find out what happened only to find themselves facing the affects of the past while old heroes struggle w/their own pasts. Prologue has been updated

14. Chapter 13: Become the Beast

Shattered Realms

By Eduard Kassel and MJLCoyoteStarrk

Chapter 13: Become the Beast

The world was burning.

The Seireitei was being reduced to ashes by the all-consuming fire before his eyes, but Ikkaku didn't care. He only cared about finding Aizen and his followers in this Hell. He wanted to make sure that he got to at least fight at his best before all of the good prey was gone. While many of the others fled from the growing carnage, Ikkaku ran deeper into it. Experience and his gut told him that the fallen Captain would be found at the heart of the chaos, and his strongest allies would be close.

"IKKAKU, WAIT UP!" Yumichika shouted. "YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN'T FACE THEM ON YOUR OWN!"

Ikkaku cursed Yumichika under his breath as his flamboyant comrade chased after him into the very depths of Hell, as he had so many times before. They had endured the hardships of the Rukongai's worst districts together and they fought in wars side-by-side. But sometimes Yumichika got on his nerves, especially when Yumichika told him he couldn't do something.

There were cries of desperation as the civilians and helpless lower-ranked Shinigami tried to escape burning buildings or searched among the ruins for loved ones who had probably already experienced the Second Death. Ikkaku cursed them as well. They were getting in his way, diverting even a fraction of his attention away from the magnificent carnage he was to take part in.

It's their own damn fault if they get killed, he thought. It was a simple fact of war: the weak who got caught up in the clashes of the strong would always be devoured in the carnage. It was as natural as trees being consumed by a raging wildfire. War was just another one of nature's ways of culling the herd, no different from plague or famine.

He had felt some of the Captains and Lieutenants releasing their Bankai, and the more powerful Shinigami were doing the same. He kept count of the number of releases he felt in his head and enjoyed their implications.

This was no mere skirmish as the so-called "Winter War" had been. This was a true war. The stuff of his darkest and truest dreams and deepest desires. If he died in a war such as this then he would have no regrets.

The ground shook with the force of Captain Komamura's Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō footsteps. He could see the hulking warrior-like being walking amongst the ruins as though searching for something. It was interesting, but whatever Captain Komamura was searching for was none of Ikkaku's concern. He had prey of his own to find.

"IKKAKU!" Yumichika shouted. Ikkaku ignored him. He felt a surge of corrupted Reiatsu coming from somewhere up ahead. It was the same kind of Reiatsu that the Visored let out as they masked.

FOUND THEM! OH WHAT A LUCKY DAY!

He could see a group of three men and a woman standing in front of a Senkaimon. The gates opened, bright white light radiated from the gateway. Two of the men and the woman were masked. A fourth man, wearing a pin-striped suit and spectacles and clutching a valise, smiled as he bowed to one of the masked men. Ikkaku's gut told him that the man being bowed to was Aizen and the sight of the unkempt brown hair only confirmed his suspicions.

He had the urge to dance his "Lucky Dance". But that could wait until after he had destroyed his opponents.

LUCKY ME! LUCKY ME! LUCKY, LUCKY, LUCKY ME!

"Sir," the masked woman said when she saw Ikkaku.

Aizen turned and saw Ikkaku. He let his mask dissolve into ashes that drifted on the fiery wind and smiled. He turned back to the man in spectacles.

"Go now."

"Yes, Lord Aizen," the man said and stepped through the Senkaimon. The gates closed, but it did not vanish. Ikkaku thought nothing of it. He was prepared to release his Shikai when Kenpachi came running from one of the side streets. Yachiru clung to his broad shoulders, laughing.

"AIZEN!" he roared.

"GET HIM KENNY!" Yachiru shouted in glee.

"Captain?" Ikkaku muttered. Kenpachi turned and looked at him.

"Stay there," he said, his voice low and hard with command. "They're mine."

"But…"

"I said, 'Stay there,' Madarame."

Ikkaku stopped. He watched as Aizen and the others vanished into Shunpo.

"Ikkaku, what were you…?" Yumichika started as he caught up.

"No…not like this. I will not be left out like this," Ikkaku muttered, rage building inside him. The Captain was perhaps the only authority he truly respected. Amongst all of the beings whose power or skill compelled a level of obedience, or who made arguments he had to grudgingly bow to, Captain Kenpachi Zaraki was the authority who Ikkaku would chose to follow.

But Ikkaku Madarame was no slave, and there were things he refused to let anyone deny him.

"Ikkaku," Yumichika said, his tone troubled.

"I WILL NOT BE LEFT OUT LIKE THIS!" Ikkaku yelled and he began to run.

Yumichika followed as Ikkaku ran through the streets, trying to find any of his prey. The Captain had done something that he rarely did by ordering Ikkaku to stay back. Yet no one could order Ikkaku to do that. No one could order him to not fight and expect him to obey.

"IKKAKU, NO! THE CAPTAIN ORDERED US TO STAY OUT OF THIS!"

Ikkaku did not run more than ten steps before Aizen reappeared along with one of the masked men. The bone-white mask resembled that of a roaring tiger with red marks around the eyes and black stripes under the mouth.

Ikkaku readied Hōzukimaru but stopped when he saw Captain Komamura come out of Shunpo. At first Ikkaku thought that Komamura was going to take Aizen for himself, but then he saw the eyes. The anthropomorphic wolf's golden eyes were glazed, as though he was in some kind of deep trance.

"You are such a nuisance," Aizen said smiling, his tone pleasant. The Senkaimon gates opened again. "Komamura, be a good dog and take care of him."

What the Hell?

"IKKAKU, LOOK OUT! IT'S BEHIND YOU!"

Ikkaku didn't see Yumichika push him out of the way as Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō's sword fell.

Present

Ikkaku woke from the nightmare of the past to a nightmare of the present. In an instant he realized he was looking into the gaping mouth of an Eater. Its sharp fangs gleamed in the moonlight and tendrils of saliva hung from the open maw as it prepared to bite his face off. Ikkaku knew that he wouldn't escape death this time until he saw the Eater's body become rigid. Then it was as if the Eater grew a second tongue, a steel tongue that dripped with black blood.

The Eater's corpse fell on top of Ikkaku and he quickly pushed it away in disgust. The close brush of Death's cold fingers meant little to his battle-hardened mentality. It was his savior who surprised him. Hanataro, however, only looked at the blade in his hand.

"I…I…I…" Hanataro stuttered.

"Thanks," Ikkaku muttered. He then saw that there were more Eaters coming their way from whatever nooks and cracks they could squeeze out of. "We can have the happy moment later, but right now we're in deep shit."

Hanataro and Ikkaku backed away from the cliff face. Their blades were drawn and pointed towards their approaching foes. If they were going to die then they would take as many of these creatures with them as possible. The Eaters moved in, preparing to feast.

"Come on, come on, come on," Ikkaku muttered. "Fight me. Come on. COME AND FIGHT ME!" Ikkaku shouted.

The Eaters prepared to leap, but then shrieks and screams rose from those in the rear. Rays of blue light cut through the Eaters like blades. The remaining Eaters turned at the unexpected arrival and howled in rage at the interruption. They prepared to rush at the newcomer.

"IKkaku," Hanataro whispered, his eyes widened.

"Yeah…I know," Ikkaku whispered as he gritted his teeth.

"GRAN REY CERO!"

Blue light flashed out, consuming the Eaters. Ikkaku and Hanatro fell to the ground, dodging the powerful cero before it could consume them. When things fell silent they raised their heads to face their apparent savior. The figure looked down on them. His mask fragment was half of the lower jaw of some great cat on the right side of his face. His unkempt light blue hair reached down to his shoulders. Green marks framed the lower corners of his eyes, one light blue and the other the paleness of a dead eye. A scar bisected his face from his left lower jaw to his right brow just below the hairline.

"Who the fuck are you?" Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez asked.

The Past

Tatsuki set her half-eaten bento aside, and tugged at the sleeve of her uniform as she looked up at the clear azure sky.

She supposed that, as after-lives went, the Soul Society was not that bad. Although, in her estimate, it could have been better, especially if the food wasn't so bland. The good weather did not seem as invigorating as it was when she was alive. She supposed that death always took something away other than life itself, something that the living took for granted.

She sat on a balcony overlooking one of the many courtyards where the Academy students would gather to eat or talk or practice that day's lessons. She glanced through the railing beside her and frowned at the laughing and eating students below. They were so normal.

To think that we all lived and died in the physical world, and to top it off we're all studying to become Shinigami! Yet, despite that knowledge, they act like regular students on a lunch break.

She rolled up her sleeve and took a deep breath as she scratched her arm.

And why does this thing itch? I thought that being dead would get rid of such nuisances.

She sighed as she rolled her sleeve up to her shoulder.

"Keep it together, Tatsuki," she whispered to herself. She used the back of her hand to wipe her brow and was surprised that it came away slightly moist with sweat despite the mild weather.

She looked at her bento and sighed.

Okay, the food really isn't all that bland. I'm just not tasting it.

She looked down at the courtyard below and felt her eyes getting watery.

I'm not a loner. I'm just avoiding them. And I'm only watching because…because…

Because I think that someone from before might join me.

I mean, sure I sometimes meet up with the "others", Karakura's own version of super heroes. But it's just not the same. Every time I see them it's…awkward. Sure they laugh at my jokes, but it just seems so…so hollow. As though they're keeping something from me.

She lowered her gaze to the ground and sighed. She tried to make new friends with some of the other pupils. She tried to make new bonds, but so far it was as though she might as well be in an entirely different world. There had been no real connection, even among the teachers who were once assigned to Karakura Town for their patrols.

There was a gulf between her and the others that could not be bridged.

Perhaps it's my fault.

She had to admit that she was suffering something from dying. But she couldn't see how that was possible. Dying was the most natural thing in the world.

Could it be because I don't remember it? I mean, sure asking someone how they died is considered very impolite. Yet, it seems that it's common knowledge that you remember it regardless of whether you crossed over on your own or needed a black-robed assistant.

It was true. She saw some of her fellow classmates talk with Soul Reapers they recognized and when she asked them about it they would say, rather grudgingly, "They were the one who helped me cross-over" or something along those lines. She didn't share that experience with them and she was somewhat envious of them. It was rather sad to think that not even death could truly get rid of such pettiness. Perhaps that said something about human nature.

But she didn't remember anything except for some of the early bits. She remembered how everything in Karakura Town went to hell, the panic and the mortal terror she felt as she thought that someone had declared war. But then…nothing. The last thing she remembered of her old life was fire and ruin and fear. She remembered running somewhere, but she couldn't remember where she was running to. Then something had caught her in the back and then…nothing. She couldn't even remember being cold or in the dark the way some of the others described the transition. There was a gap from her running through the burning streets to waking up in the Fourth Squad hospital with a schedule waiting for her.

But shouldn't there have been more to it? Shouldn't they have said something more than just, "You are now dead, please report for your class assignment?"

Yet it had been that way for her. There were days when she felt that she was being toyed with and wanted to just run past all these walls until her legs gave out. There were days when she missed her friends, especially…

"Orihime," she whispered.

Orihime had only come once. And even that visit had been just to see her. There was hardly a word spoken between them. That was Tatsuki's first clue that something was wrong. She didn't know what it was, but she knew that she wouldn't get anything out of Orihime. The thought made her sad.

In the old days they shared everything with each other. Whenever they visited each other they would stay up all night just talking and laughing and playing. But now a wall had come up between them, severing the friendship they once had.

Uryu and Chad had done more than just visit to see her. Maybe it hadn't been much to her, but the effort was honest and appreciated. Ichigo seemed to have made a point of sending her letters to check up on her. He had an excuse to not visit her. He had been appointed to be an "archangel" or "Captain" as they said here.

But nothing seemed quite right, and that included herself. Her focus and high performance in the practical exams were earning her accolades at the Academy, but she was only focused because it was something to do. It didn't make her feel better, or even very satisfied.

Focusing on her training assignments let her forget how empty she felt. She put a hand to her chest and she could feel her heart beating. She wondered that the most basic sign of life remained in death and then thought about what would happen if that heart stopped beating. She shuddered at the thought and took her hand away.

Then the sadness returned.

Why did Orihime, of all people, leave me alone? I lost my family. Orihime should understand that. She should have been there. SHE SHOULD BE HERE!

Even as she got angry it slipped away into the emptiness. Her obsession returned brooding to the back of her mind.

I know that things would change somehow if I only knew how I died.

The Present

A sudden jolt brought Tatsuki out of the memory. Her eyes opened slowly and everything was hazy at first. Her head hurt and the blaring of horns and a rattling cacophony did not help matters. Her vision cleared to where she could see where she was.

She found that she was tied to a railing near the back of some kind of vehicle. She looked over the edge and saw the dirt path they were travelling on rush behind her. When she looked up she saw another vehicle being pulled by two hulking Arrancars with bulging muscles. The driver flicked his wrist and she saw a thread of pale purple energy lash out and strike the hulking Arrancars. It reminded her of carriage drivers lashing horses with their whip to make them go faster.

The vehicle behind her was large and looked to be made out of metal and bone. Harsh angles protruded from all sides and long lances swayed as the vehicle moved. Yellow banners made of strips of Hollow hide fluttered and bits of hollowed bone rattled against each other and the vehicle's side. She could make out the shining whirl of spikes protruding from the wheel spokes.

There was another jolt as the wheels on the vehicle's left side passed over a large stone and Tatsuki was able to change her view. She looked up at the night sky and saw a strip of Hollow hide dyed yellow flutter above her from its spear-like pole. She could make out a blood-red crescent moon painted on the fabric.

There was another horn blast and Tatsuki moaned as the sound was driven through her head like a spike. She looked up at the night sky and saw the burst of a dark green cero coming from the distance that was answered by a bright purple cero. The shouts of the Arrancars in the raiding party rose and they were answered by distant shouts and jeers.

Just what I need, to be stuck in battle tied up to a wagon, she thought.

She tried to rise, but her body felt as though a great weight was crushing her.

Was I drugged? Those fuckers must have drugged me!

So it would seem, her Sister Dark replied deep in her mind. Talk about pathetic. If I was in control you wouldn't be in this mess.

Whatever you say.

You know it's true.

Just shut up. I don't need you talking to me right now.

You really are stubborn, wanting to deny the truth. And the truth is that without me you'll be dead soon enough. Come on, just give me control for a little while. Let me have my fun and I'll make you so strong that none of these weaklings could withstand you.

Tempting, but I've been through worse.

For a moment there was silence, but then she thought she heard her Sister Dark chuckling and then laughing in the dark.

That laughter made Tatsuki realize that she could not afford to let her guard down, not even with herself. Discipline and moral choice were what separated humans from animals. Abandoning either would mean a loss of humanity. She would be no different from these animals who possessed her.

To have discipline is to be human, she thought. I must control my desire to kill heedlessly. I must conquer my desire for violence and submit it to thoughts of survival and escape. I am human, not an animal.

The blaring of horns became louder and was joined by the horns of the other party. The cacophony drove all thoughts of the Dragon out of Tatsuki's mind. She had to stay aware of her surroundings if she was to find an opportunity to escape. She shifted her position as much her bonds and her drugged state would allow, but she still wasn't able to see who was coming her way. But judging from the jeers and laughter she didn't think she would be stuck in the middle of a battle.

"HAIL BLOOD OF THE FIRST SON!" someone shouted.

"HAIL, BROTHER!" Thulsa's booming voice shouted in reply. "HOW WENT THE RAID?"

"TEN NELS CAPTURED! WE'RE TAKING THEM BACK TO TESLA TO BE PURIFIED!"

"GO FORTH AND DO YOUR SACRED DUTY! FOR THE MANTIS!"

"FOR THE MANTIS!"

Tatsuki was able to position herself to look through the rails. She saw another party of the same harsh-looking chariots heading in the opposite direction. Dark crimson banners fluttered from the side poles with a white crescent moon painted on each one. The Arrancars of both parties blared their horns and shouted jeers and taunts at each other. Tatsuki was horrified to see that the back of each chariot had a long pole from which a naked woman hung from the crossbeams by lengths of cord bound about their wrists, like hunks of meat.

Tatsuki couldn't move, but only stare.

What have we gotten into?

Kahn Ridgeback

Kahn Ridgeback, Governor of the future colony Maluerta, felt the raiders' approaching energy and made his way to the front gates from the central plaza where captured Berserkers were still constructing the Governor's Palace with large blocks of stone and solidified sand. Moonlight gleamed on the iron crescents that ringed the central arena, the first building completed. It was a sight that Ridgeback never grew tired of.

Ridgeback's physique was the ideal masculine: tall, broad-shouldered, and well-muscled. His mask fragment resembled the horns of a bull protruding from his temples and the tusks of a boar protruding on either side of his square jaw. Each protrusion was tipped with gold and studded with precious stones. He was clad in the traditional tall-collared jacket that flared out into a half crescent. A Governor's chain made of iron draped over his bull-like neck.

"Lord Governor," an approaching Son said. "The Mantis's raiders are approaching."

"I'm well aware of that, Son," Ridgeback replied. "And I know what they bring."

"Finally," the Son said, sighing with relief.

Ridgeback didn't say anything. He felt the heat of embarrassment rise in him. He did not want the sanctity of Maluerta to be sealed by another Son's charity. He was the Governor. It was his sacred duty to make sure that he secured the Nels necessary for the proper ceremonies. Instead, he had failed time and time again and was forced to hide his embarrassment with excuses about how the appropriate buildings were not completed or that he did not have any properly trained Proctors to oversee the rites.

But it seemed that the higher-ups in Tesla were growing impatient and were showing him pity. PITY! It was the height of humiliation for a Son as it had been for the Mantis.

"Pity and mercy are the paths of the weak and cowards. The Son who shows mercy is accursed, the Son who needs pity is better fit to be a Nel," so said the sacred Scriptures.

Ridgeback bit down on his lower lip and his hand clenched into a fist, nails biting into his hierro and drawing blood as he walked towards the gate.

He stopped for a moment when he felt the Reiatsu being released from the lead chariot. A wave of fear flowed through him and he reached up to his neck to as if to see his head was still attached to his broad shoulders. He quickened his pace to greet the raiding party and immediately got to his knees, bowing his head in subjugation as the chariots stopped.

"Great Son Thulsa," Ridgeback said in a low whisper.

"Rise, Governor," Thulsa said as he dismounted his chariot. He frowned as he looked at the construction going on around him. "I see that the reports were true. You are very far behind."

"Yes," Ridgeback began and raised his head, "that is why I haven't had a chance to…"

Thulsa struck Ridgeback across the face with his fist.

"No more excuses, Governor. You've been pitied and granted mercy."

"No…no…please…please…I…"

"Silence," Thulsa said, his voice low and commanding. Ridgeback closed his mouth and bit his tongue for good measure. "You've been granted mercy and so I brought you the Nels you require to sanctify this colony. Of course, none of the other Sons need to know of this. Well, are you not grateful for my mercy?"

"I…I am, Great Son."

"How grateful are you?"

"I…I will name my sons in your honor, Great Son."

"Is that all?"

"No, no, no, Great Son. My…my sword is at your command, Great Son Thulsa."

"Good," Thulsa said, nodding in approval. "Sons are one thing, but a sword means a lot more. Does it not?"

"Yes, Great Son."

"I'll leave you the Nels I have so that you can fulfill your obligations properly. I understand that a Proctor has already been sent to you."

"Yes, Great Son."

Thulsa nodded and put a hand on Ridgeback's shoulder. "Be grateful and remember that I have your sword now. I may require it sometime soon."

"Yes, Great Son Thulsa."

"Oh, and if my brother, Mephisto, comes by, make sure my visit here remains unknown to him. I doubt he will trouble you, but one can never say with him. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Great Son, Thulsa. Great Son Mephisto shall never know you were here."

"Be sure of that," Thulsa said. He pulled Ridgeback closer to him and whispered, "Remember who sharpens your blade and who holds your chain."

Nemu

Nemu noted that the town they were in was still under construction. The cart bounced on the rough road, jostling her and nearly throwing her off her feet if not for the bonds tying her to a pole. It was apparent that good roadways were not a priority for the Arrancars they encountered. As they entered a central square of construction she noted that the only building completed was an arena similar to the Panteran architecture next to a fortress-like building that was almost done.

They have such poor priorities, she thought. It was another mark against the Arrancars as a whole. So far only the city of Octavia showed any real sign of worth to her.

She noted the gathering crowd was completely male with bared chests. They were either shirtless or wearing vests made of Hollow hides dyed a dingy yellow. Their faces were filled with expressions of revulsion and jubilation mixed together.

How curious, she thought. They look like some of Father's classified works.

When the cart stopped the driver got to the back and swung the pole around. For a few seconds her feet dangled in the air before the pole pushed to a horizontal position enough to where her feet touched the ground.

The crowd parted and a tall Arrancar wearing a spoon-like cowl that was clearly modeled after the former quinta Espada's stepped forward. Two guardsman clad in high collar jackets and wearing metal masks of sneering faces flanked him.

He sneered as he eyed her up and down and drew his sword. There was no intention to kill or even harm in his actions. So she wasn't tempted to even flinch when he struck.

His sword sliced through her outfit and he tore it away with a smooth motion. He traced the edge of his sword on her bare hierro. In one swift motion his sword scratched her, but not enough to draw blood. He nodded and looked to one of the guardsman.

"Strong hierro," he muttered.

Nemu looked to where Tatsuki was enduring similar treatment and returned her attention to the Arrancar in front of her.

He sheathed his sword and then reached out to her with bare hands. He felt her breasts and flanks the way a potential buyer examines livestock. He examined her hands and her nails, grunting every once in a while as he closely examined every detail. He was very thorough, examining even her cavities with a bare hand. The perusing bare hand inspected her mouth last.

She knew that they would be used as livestock to some capacity. Yet if it was only for breeding then they would not have wasted two carts for them to holding cells attached to the arena. Her mind raced as she thought of potential reasons and one possibility she reached was that they would be used in some blood-sport ceremony.

"Good," the Arrancar said, nodding and smiling. "You'll make good chattel."

He made a single gesture and the two guardsmen untied her from the pole and hefted her on their shoulders. Nemu tilted her head slightly to survey more of the settlement as the guards carried her to one of the cells. She saw Tatsuki putting up some struggle before one of the guardsmen by her struck her in the back of the head hard enough to knock her to her knees.

She wondered if she should put up some kind of struggle, but decided against it.

"Drug it. Drug that filthy beast," an Arrancar shouted.

Nemu's eyes locked on the needle in an Arrancar guard's hand.

Now where did they get that?

She felt herself being heaved into one of the cells just as the Arrancar injected the commander with the needle. She barely felt the impact as she crashed face down on the cell's hard floor. She smiled slightly at the floor, but she had just registered where she was when the commander's naked form was tossed on top of her.

This will make things easier, she thought.

"Make yourselves at home, little Nels," an Arrancar jeered and laughed.

She listened carefully as the voices trailed off. She used her pesquisa to make sure they were truly alone. When she couldn't sense any spiritual presence nearby she shrugged Tatsuki's limp body off her and stood. She stretched to loosen her body from the prolonged binding. After loosening up she turned her attention to Tatsuki.

So far the gigais proved to be excellent work. Yet, considering the theory on the merger of Shinigami energy with Arrancar energy, it may have been too good. She pushed the thought aside. Nothing was ever accomplished without sacrifice. Sometimes that meant sacrificing one's own self to something greater.

The road to greater accomplishments makes monsters of us all, she thought.

She looked at Tatsuki's still form and wondered if the commander was experiencing the same urges as she did. She figured that she would have to make further observations as she inspected the paralyzed officer's hierro for any injuries that required medical attention.

The Past

She resisted the urge to twitch as she knelt on the tatami mat. She remembered how a real Shinigami had pulled her out of class and left her in this room, alone and without any explanation. She wondered how long ago that had been. She reasoned that it had to have been at least two hours, but time had ceased to make any sense and there was no window to help her pinpoint the exact time. She never realized just how difficult it was to be left alone with only one's thoughts to keep them company.

Is this some kind of hazing?

"Disciplined. That's good," a woman said. Tatsuki blinked. She could sense that there was someone behind her. She had not sensed anyone entering the room. Then she felt a burst of focused Reiatsu hit her like a fist. She gasped and actually broke position a little bit before regaining her composure.

There's no doubt about it. Whoever's with me must be a Captain, Tatsuki thought.

"Very good. You have some resilience," the Captain said as she came into Tatsuki's line-of-sight. She knew to listen for the Captain's footsteps and was impressed that she couldn't hear them. Tatsuki guessed that the efficient and effortless ease of motion that this woman had been sneaking around for centuries. Silence was simply how she moved through the world.

The woman was shorter than Tatsuki would have expected. But she wore the white haori of a Captain. The woman's demeanor was one that could be expected of a high-ranking commander in the Soul Society's armed forces.

"Pupil Tatsuki Arisawa. I am Captain Sui-Feng, commander of Squad Two and you will address me as 'Captain' or 'Captain Sui-Feng'. Your instructors brought you to my attention," the Captain said looking at Tatsuki. The gaze in her eyes were hard and attentive.

"Why?" Tatsuki asked. The Captain's eyes narrowed at her and Tatsuki swallowed some of the saliva that built up in her mouth. "Why, Captain?" she corrected.

"Your instructors reported you as being exceptional in your studies, despite the detriment of socializing with your fellow pupils. Your records show that you are also a Karakura survivor, which makes your actions somehow more worthy of note to your instructors. Now, to be clear, favoritism is not my mode of operandi as it is among some circles. I only care about your actual aptitude, not the fawning of those who are readily impressed.

"I will ask you some questions and you are to answer my questions fully and honestly. If you don't then you will be disciplined. I will not tolerate lying. Do you understand me?"

And I will know if you're lying or evading, the Captain's eyes seemed to say.

"Yes Captain," Tatsuki said.

"Good."

The Captain asked her questions and Tatsuki answered them. She was irritated that they were the same questions she had been asked over and over again. Even as she tried to keep her irritation from showing she wondered how long it would be until she could simply try and move on with her afterlife.

Then the questions took a different turn. The Captain asked about her experience at the Academy. She asked about her scores, her performances, and, most awkwardly to Tatsuki, her peers. Then came the most surprising question to Tatsuki.

"What would you say leaving the Academy a little early?" Sui-Feng asked.

Tatsuki paused for a moment before answering, "I would say that I do not want to be expelled." She expected that Ichigo and Rukia would not let her become homeless in the Rukongai as was the general threat. She could see Orihime or the other girls being pleased with escaping a lifetime, or several, of military service if the alternative was palpable.

But Tatsuki wanted to get stronger. In life she had loved competing in martial arts tournaments and the fact it really could be dismissed had irked her. The Gotei offered not only the means to get stronger but a meaningful use of that strength. Adversity built character and character was far more important than something as fleeting and fickle as comfort. Despite the hints of corruption the main mission was to preserve creation from various threats to it.

The fact she had witnessed what happened when the system failed made it all the more appealing. The next time the system failed she would be in a position to do something.

I was helpless back then. I couldn't help anyone. That's why…

"Arisawa, as you no doubt heard, the wars have thinned the ranks of the Gotei. Weakness is one of the greatest sins in our ranks and we face it in two forms. The first form is the lack of sufficient forces. The second form is in those who would amend the first by lowering our standards.

"The first form is not so critical. It is merely akin to lacking breathing room. But I and several other officers in the Gotei are wary of the second. The lowering of standards is akin to a once healthy body taking in too much rich food. Too much rich food can lead to gout and gout can lead to a crippled body. In the same way, coddling weakness and excuses to the point of forsaking Truth and Virtue will only destroy a society. Look at what happened to the West.

"I will be forward with you. My squad requires talented recruits to fill the lower seats. I believe that you and some of the others can fill those positions. But make no mistake, you are unfit to wear the black as you are now."

Tatsuki felt somewhat irritated at that because she knew it was true.

"Yet I know that can change. You know that you are weak and don't accept it as your lot in life, but seek to become stronger. Therefore, because you have the will and ability, you can be strengthened and sharpened," Sui-Feng continued. "Hence my offer. I am starting a new program at the Academy for promising students. It's a fast-track of sorts. Some of my most prominent veterans will train those students in the program. If they deem that you are worthy then you might train the last weeks with me. If you last through a year in the program then you could very well graduate in two years.

"What do you say?"

"I would say, ma'am, that there might be something more to it than just getting gifted students into the ranks a bit early," Tatsuki said.

Sui-Feng smiled.

"That's true. The program's main goal is to see if we can break you. If you accept and our methods leave you a shivering wreck, I will see that as your failure and step over you without a second thought. I would sooner have all of those 'gifted students', as you put it, fail than accept a single unworthy blade into my squad.

"If your teachers deem you worthy then your prize will be to train under me. If you can complete your training under me then you can enter the service with a rank that would normally require decades to achieve. You would have completed your training both in the field and alongside experienced veterans. Certainly a better education than merely sitting behind a desk and learning the theory of soldiering.

"But if you say, 'no' then there is no dishonor in that. Only a fool overreaches with no regard to their own limits. You will continue your training at the normal pace and you will graduate in a decade's time.

"Other Captains would give you time to think it over. I do not. I expect you to decide now because a Soul Reaper decides in an instant the choices that will seal the fate of others. You don't get time to get all of the facts or to weigh pros and cons. Fate can and will be decided by a grain of rice balanced on a blade's edge.

"So, what is your choice?" Sui-Feng demanded.

Tatsuki did not hesitate. She would regret it many times before it ended with her graduation. But in that moment her choice to say "yes" had been clear and she never regretted it since.

The Present

Tatsuki felt as if someone hit her with a sledgehammer as the drug wore off. Her vision was slightly blurred and she could only make out another figure kneeling in front of her. Her throat felt dry and her mind felt as if it was made of cotton.

"Commander?"

"Uh…huh…uh…what?" Her tongue felt heavy as she tried to speak.

The figure started to move, but she could only see a series of blurred motions. The figure moved in closer and held out a blurred hand under her nose. The smell cleared her mind right away and Tatsuki felt a sudden rush of adrenaline move through her body.

"What the…?"

"Apologies, Commander, but you were drugged. Fortunately you didn't have any damage done to your gigai. So, I got you up."

"Uh…what did you…uh…use?"

"Oh, just some liquid sulfur that Father fused with some of my bodily fluids."

"I really shouldn't have asked," Tatsuki muttered. She looked at their surroundings. "So…we're locked up then."

She got up and saw that the cell they were in was only large enough to fit two. Three feet of the cell was buried in the ground, its floor and solid wall hardened into sandstone. The other three feet was made of bars. She examined the bars of sandstone reinforced with a metal she couldn't place. The metal didn't look to have been hammered around the bars but almost as if it had been wrapped. She felt the metal and found it cool and felt it respond to her energy by becoming harder.

"What is this?"

Nemu examined the metal and cocked her head.

"It appears to be the same kind of metal as the masks some of those Arrancars were wearing. Interesting. I wonder why we didn't come across it before."

"Who cares? All I care about is how we get out of here. As soldiers we have a duty to escape."

Nemu was about to respond when the sound of approaching footsteps made her quiet. The two turned and saw a small group of Arrancars approaching, led by a tall and muscular Arrancar. The moonlight gleamed on the gems embedded in the horns of his mask fragment. The smile on his face was that of a hunter looking over his kills in approval.

"Well. I see that you're awake. Good." He nodded to the Arrancars accompanying him.

One of the Arrancars approached and put a hand on two lengths of the metal wrapped around each other. The metal responded by becoming malleable and the Arrancar pulled the two metal bars apart. The cage door opened and two Arrancars rushed in. Before Tatsuki or Nemu could respond they were grabbed and lengths of cord made of the same metal were bound around them.

For a moment, Tatsuki feared that they would be violated here and now. Instead, the Arrancars laughed and jeered at them.

"Did you really think that you're worth an open cage with access to fresh air?" the leading Arrancar asked. His smile widened as he wagged his right index finger at them. "Naughty, naughty. You need to be punished for thinking too highly of yourselves. Fresh air is wasted on your kind. Take them to their real kennels."

Tatsuki and Nemu were hauled out of the cage and taken through a small door dug into the arena's wall. They descended down a steep and narrow staircase into the darkness. Some of the Arrancar guards released small orbs of light. Tatsuki and Nemu were dragged down the steps until they reached an open space.

Tatsuki couldn't see anything in front of her. Then she found herself being stuffed into some kind of sarcophagus that was set upright at a slight angle. Before she could rush the opening the lid was slammed shut leaving only small pinpricks of air holes in front of her face. She tried to reach out and push against it but was met with a mass of spikes pointing towards her.

Feeling the spikes made her eyes widen in terror.

She was in an iron maiden.

She heard about the device, but remembered reading that the iron maiden was a legend made up by Europeans during the eighteenth century who never saw the inside of a true dungeon.

I guess somebody decided to go ahead and make the real thing, she thought.

There was a creaking noise and Tatsuki felt the iron maiden upright itself completely. Then came a clang and the compressed space was filled with dull light as a slot above her opened. She turned to look up and found it was a mistake.

Reiatsu charged sand began to pour down on her and fill the iron maiden.

The sand slowed and then stopped when the sand inside of the iron maiden was nearly at her shoulders. The slot above her shut again and was locked, sealing her in darkness. The Reiatsu control was a simple way to pack the sand tight. The tightly-packed sand made it difficult to breathe and the air had already become stale. The small air holes in front of her were not enough to circulate the air.

If it wasn't for her hierro she knew that she would be bleeding. Yet despite her reinforced gigai, the sand was trying to worm its way into any gap it could find. The sand dug into any wounds that hadn't fully healed. Even though there was no pain she could feel her hierro being violated by the pathetic yet demanding press of the tiny grains.

She tried to speak, but all she could do was gasp and cough.

She tried to weigh her options. She knew that breaking free was out since she wouldn't be able to get any momentum. There were the spikes to contend with. She could try using a cero, but there was a risk that it might backfire.

She knew that she should keep a clear head, but the sand felt wrong. The sand felt like a living nightmare, gnawing away at her mind to plant the seeds of panic. If she panicked then defeat would be inevitable.

Kahn Ridgeback

If there was one word that would best describe Kahn Ridgeback it would be "weak" and he knew it. Looking down at the imprisoned Nels reminded him of his ineptitude, and that only made him hate them even more. Even though he was physically strong he was weak-willed and indecisive. He had failed twice already to properly found a colony, and if he failed a third time he would be dragged back to Tesla and have his fate decided by Delgado. Like many of the Sons he was aware of Delgado's growing insanity, and like many of the Sons he put his absolute faith and trust in customs and strength. So far, customs and strength favored Delgado to remain First Son.

Who was he to defy the Mantis's anointed Son?

Am I only good at making excuses for my own failures? Ridgeback pushed the thought from his mind. He looked at his muscular body and smiled. What does it matter if I'm weak-willed so long as I'm physically strong? I can still push my enemies and the enemies of my Brothers aside.

He looked back down at the Nels trapped in their prison and frowned. He understood his hatred for them. They were sold to him in exchange for his own hands, his own sword. They were a chain held by another. He was as much as a slave as they were. Even though they would never know that fact he would; there was no comfort in the thought. He would kill one brutally in the arena and then make the other his personal chattel. He would do what needed to be done as custom demanded.

I can't afford to be weak now. I mustn't fail again.

I may be a slave now, but someday I will forge my own destiny. I will become my own master.

Tatsuki Arisawa

Tatsuki knew that panic was not an option. If she panicked then she might as well admit defeat and she never found admitting defeat easy. Even as a kid training in the dojo she never could admit defeat no matter the odds. It was her tenacity that helped her to excel while others fell away.

Okay, I can't let myself get too carried away. I'm still getting some air, so I won't die of suffocation. I'm not some coddled self-indulgent brat in need of a safe space to stew and wallow in weakness like a pig in shit. I know that what doesn't kill me will only make me stronger and make me sharper. I need to slow myself. Slow myself. Slow myself. Slow my mind. Slow my heart beat. Slow my breathing. Slow my blood. Slow myself. Slow myself.

She recited the mantra she learned whenever she felt panic or anxiety come upon her.

My will is iron. The claws of weakness will not take hold.

My mind is a rock, strong against the currents of uncertainty.

My heart is a mountain, standing strong against the winds of fear.

I am a warrior and the first foe I must defeat is myself.

She could feel it working, much as it had in the past. Her breathing slowed and she found her mind becoming calm and her body limp. She smiled.

I'll get out of this, but to do that I need to reserve my strength. I just need to…

She closed her eyes and found it easy to sink into the darkness.

The Past

After accepting Sui-Feng's proposal Tatsuki expected to be whisked away to some hidden dungeon filled with tortuous training equipment or to some desolate mountain monastery to live off of a handful of rice a weak while learning to scale peaks while walking on her hands. The type of things she saw in the Kung Fu movies she loved to watch.

She knew it was absurd, but she wondered if her mind was deliberately dancing around the issue at the time.

Instead, she was led to a Spartan room, little more than a closet with a straw mat to sleep on. There was no washbasin the room and she could only clean herself when her instructors allowed it. That meant that most of the time the room would quickly fill with the reek of her sweat and dirt and mud and manure that would cling to her during her training sessions.

She was given a gray ninja uniform with a gray mask that was to be worn at all times when out of her room. She made sure to obey that instruction and when a bell rang she hid her face and made her way to the center of the training grounds where the other students were gathered. To her surprise she found that they were all wearing the same uniform and their faces were hidden. Even their instructors, clad in black and forming a ring around them, had their faces hidden.

"You are not your own," the head instructor said. "You are no longer a person of flesh and blood. You are a shadow, faceless and silent. You're not here to make friends, but to become a single identity clad in shadows. You will not speak to each other. You will not see each other. You will not truly embrace each other until you are deemed worthy to be comrades.

"You are all shadows, dead to yourself and dead to the world. You are all faceless and silent. Remember that while you are here."

Their routine was asymmetrical, robbing her of any real way to measure time. The only constant was that she was inside some complex that was equipped with the kind of outdoor emulating cavern that Orihime had fangirled about whenever talking about Urahara's training area. And, to be fair, Tatsuki did have to admit that it was kind of awesome in a Batman kind of way.

Although she didn't have time to appreciate it. She had learned that everything she had taken for granted had become a luxury. She knew that rights were not guaranteed but were rather something that had to be earned and those things that were earned were far more valuable than those things freely given.

There were days, few and far between, where there was something resembling a regular routine. The instructors would give her and her fellow recruits tasks and exercises with short breaks for meals.

But most days there was no such luxury as a routine. The masked instructors would work her for what she was certain were days without letting her hardly stop moving. They would make her move until she became exhausted and then spur her to move more until she was too stiff to move and then force her to move.

Then there were days where she was told to remain in her room and sit still until summoned and no one would come for days. Food and water would appear in the blink of an eye. She learned quickly that she would have to ask permission to eat and drink, otherwise the moment she tried to reach out to them the food and water would vanish as quickly as they came. But if she asked then the bowls would remain.

Even with the training in their limited space Tatsuki could never burn enough Reiatsu to not need to relieve herself. So, with utter embarrassment, she made one corner of her room become her toilet. Over time, the routine of being limited to her room had come up enough to where she had stopped being so self-conscious about her bodily functions.

"To build you up we must tear you down," one of the instructors told them. "To become strong you must first learn what it means to be weak. Until now most of you have never known true weakness, true helplessness. The road to light runs through darkness. It is only by enduring Hell that you can reach Paradise."

So Tatsuki endured. Even though some dropped out early in the program and many more would fall away as training continued, she pushed on.

The fights were a relief after those long periods of isolation. It was nice to encounter the other students even if there was a lack of structure. Sometimes the fights were held like the dojo competitions she was used to: announced with bows, rules, and structure. Other times, however, the fights were spontaneous, without any rhyme or reason. She would sometimes be instructed to attack a random student at a random time with the only instruction being 'Don't get caught.' She had been on the receiving end of such surprise attacks herself.

To her shame she had lost six such attacks until she learned to be aware of her surroundings. After the sixth time, none of the other students could take her by surprise.

Yet the worse, in her opinion, was the black room. She dreaded the times when they were ordered into a room that was made of wood painted completely black and ordered to sit with their open in the lotus position. They would have to remain in that position, sitting still for a long time until it was as if they were a part of the darkness.

Then, while sitting in the darkness, someone would yelp in pain.

"Be silent," a voice would say. "A shadow does not feel pain."

Then the silence would continue before another yelp of pain was heard and the voice gave the same response. It would go on and on and on. The first time Tatsuki was in the black room she was struck five times and each time the voice gave the same reply to her pain.

During her last session in the black room, Tatsuki had been hit a total of ten times and did not cry out once. She had learned to be still and with the stillness came an even greater awareness.

The last time she was struck the voice of Sui-Feng said, "You are truly a shadow. Well done, comrade. Now, you can return to the light."

Hanataro Yamada

They followed Grimmjow, not sure what else they could do.

Hanataro knew helplessness. He knew that there was a time in every mission when one no longer had control over success or failure. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Ikkaku following, but keeping some distance. The third seat looked irritated as he walked through the sands away from the mountains.

Ikkaku certainly seemed to be faring better than Hanataro. He was certain that if not for his fear of the Eaters and fear for their comrades' safety he would have passed out from physical exhaustion and the memory of what lay deep under the mountains.

More nightmares for me. There really is always something more to be afraid of, Hanataro thought in resignation.

Grimmjow hadn't spoken a word since he asked his one question. Instead of waiting for a response he merely gestured them to follow him and keeping silent.

Hanataro couldn't understand why he had saved them. There was nothing in his past or even now that made him seem like someone who did good deeds just because they were good.

But still, he had to know.

"Thank you for saving us," Hanataro said.

"Shove it, Shinigami."

"We're not Shinigami," Hanataro blurted.

"Right, and I'm a fairy godmother who grants wishes," Grimmjow snarled. "Anyways, you're welcome."

"Uh…why did you save us?"

"I have my reasons." Grimmjow looked at Hanataro. "Tch. You look like you're about to keel over. Well, I suppose this is far enough to not get interrupted by mere trash. Sit down and stay awake," the former Espada ordered.

"We need to keep going," Hanataro said.

"Not in your condition," Grimmjow said. "You'll only be a hindrance."

Hanataro started to protest, but Ikkaku put a hand on his shoulder.

"He's right," Ikkaku said. "We can't just jump in without a strategy and exhausted."

"Tch…where's the fun in that?" Grimmjow snorted. "I only wanted to stop to get some answers. Why are you Shinigami here? Wasn't there a treaty or something in place?"

"You should know that. You were at that treaty's signing," Hanataro said.

"Yeah, yeah," Grimmjow said, waving a hand in dismissal. "I'm hoping that it actually…you know…was no longer in effect."

"Uh…as far as we know it's still in effect," Hanataro said. "We were sent to…to find someone."

Grimmjow looked disappointed and sighed. "I miss the good ol' days when I actually got a decent fight or two in. Now…all I have to fight are weak-ass Hollows and the occasional Arrancar who crosses my path. So…" He looked at Ikkaku with a twisted smirk, made even more sinister by the scar crossing his face. "How about it? Do you want to fight? It'll be like old times."

"Not right now," Ikkaku said. "I'll fight you once we have time. Right now, I want to get our comrades back from those bastards."

Grimmjow frowned and looked in the direction that the Sons' chariots went.

"I suppose they might be fun," he muttered. "That horned guy looked strong enough to actually give me a challenge. Haven't had a good work out in for…shit…how many years has it been?"

"Don't ask me," Ikkaku said. "Do I look like a calendar to you?"

Grimmjow let out a soft chuckle. "I suppose not," he said.

"So…are you going to help us?" Hanataro asked.

"Why should I?"

"Well, let's make a deal then," Ikkaku said. "If you help us out you get all of the good Arrancars to fight. I won't interfere even if you get surrounded and they pile-up on you."

"I want to fight Kurosaki," Grimmjow said. "I know that you know who I mean. You both had dealings with him before and I bet you stay in touch with him."

"Okay, fine, when we get back to the Seireitei we'll let him know," Ikkaku said. "I think your clan would like to see two legends fighting each other."

"Clan?" Grimmjow asked.

"Yeah, they have this city surrounding a mountain or something. They pretty much treat you like a god."

"Hmm, a god eh," Grimmjow said, smiling. "A god is definitely better than being a mere king. Where did you say they are again?"

"They're at some mountain quite a ways away. They pretty much said that they hadn't left that spot since you left them there."

Grimmjow lifted his head up to the night sky as if trying to remember something. "Come to think of it, I think I did leave a bunch of whining piss-pants behind at some mountain. They were so fucking annoying and they were only slowing me down. Heh, so they never left that spot. I thought they were dead by now. Guess they weren't so useless after all."

"They pretty much created their own empire," Ikkaku said. "They also really like to fight a lot."

"Hmm, it would be nice to actually have someone tough by my side. I may have to pay them a visit to see for myself. Eh, maybe later. First let's get your comrades back. All we have to do is follow the tracks. Won't be another sandstorm around here for a while so we should be good."

"Okay, let's get going," Hanataro said.

"Sit down," Grimmjow said. "We're not going right away. I still have some questions to ask and you better answer me or else I might just throw you back where I found you."

Kahn Ridgeback

Ridgeback took a deep breath before he opened the double sandstone doors leading into the palace proper. Flames danced in the trenches lining the hall, giving the reliefs carved into the walls the illusion of life. The reliefs displayed various moments from the Sons' history from Nnoitora raising the great blade Santa Teresa against Nelliel Tu Odelschwank to the construction of Tesla. The soft sounds of a pan flute drifted towards him.

At the great hall's far side was a great low table surrounded by lush pillows. A serving boy stood in the shadows playing a pan flute while another beat on a tambourine. The table was set with the best that Maluerta had to offer: fresh Hollow meat from the hunting parties, rich wine stolen from the Triples during the last raid, and fresh baked breads taken as tribute from the Luisenbarnians. He looked at the two Arrancars lounging on the pillows, enjoying the feast laid in their honor.

The representatives from Tesla raised golden goblets and one gestured for a handsome serving boy to come closer to feed him some of the canapés made of a mashed fungi pastry filled with ground sweetbread and laced with trace amounts of drugs he held on a silver tray. Both were clad in rich Hollow hide robes dyed a deep yellow with dark crimson trim. One, with shortly cropped violet hair and a mask fragment resembling a fly's head, wore two shoulder-pads made from bits of Hollow mask fragments etched with gold and silver patterns. His robes strained at his enormous gut and his face was pasty and bloated like a drowned corpse. The other, with shoulder-length cranberry hair and a mask fragment resembling the jaw of a hyena covering his lower jaw, wore gold chains with medallions of precious stones. They looked up from their feasting.

"Ah, Ridgeback, so good of you to join us," the fat Arrancar with the fly head's mask said.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Brother Donnzho," Ridgeback said with a bow to the fat Arrancar. "Brother Juarez," he said and bowed to the Arrancar with the hyena mask fragment who only nodded an acknowledgement. "It's an honor to receive visitors from Tesla. I trust that you find our hospitality to your liking."

Juarez merely waved a hand as he took a deep drink of wine.

"Yes, yes, it's all nice. However, don't think it will win you any favors. At least, not with this wine," Donnzho replied. "It tastes like piss."

"I'm sure that we could…"

"This young Arrancar, however, would make a fine piece of décor," Donnzho continued gesturing to the youth bearing the silver tray of canapés. "Give him to me and I might consider giving a favorable report to First Son Delgado upon our return." He winked and his grin widened to reveal dirty yellow teeth, some of which were blackened with decay.

"Don't you have enough décor already?" Juarez asked.

"You can never have too much décor. Have to keep up appearances, after all."

"Your estate is starting to look more like an Octavian's warehouse. You really should learn to cut back. Moderation is a virtue."

"You're no fun, Juarez."

"We're not here to have fun."

"I know. I know. Still, it's such a pity."

"Brothers, brothers," Ridgeback said, trying to maintain the friendly demeanor of a proper host. "I'm sure that we can find ways for you to enjoy yourselves and still fulfill your obligations." He remained standing as he didn't dare lounge with them in case they took it as an insult. It was custom for the host to remain at his guests' disposal until they permitted him to sit and eat with them.

"Oh, come on, don't stay standing there on ceremony, Kahn," Donnzho said. He patted one of the pillows closest to him. "Come and sit. Join us. You need to eat something. You look as pale as Ulquiorra or a newly captured Nel waiting for her master to come purify her."

Juarez gave a snort. "So long as those Purists don't have their way," he said.

Donnzho threw a mushroom at him. Juarez evaded it with the ease of a cat.

"Don't mention them. Don't you ever mention them again while I'm eating," he spat.

"The Purists?" Ridgeback asked, confused. "I don't understand."

"They're none of your concern, Ridgeback," Juarez said. "You just stay focused on what you need to do."

"He's right. First Son Delgado will deal with them soon enough. So you don't need to worry about them. Besides, apparently they're not proper dinner conversation. Now sit down."

Ridgeback sat down. Donnzho put a plate filled with roast meat and charred fungi in front of him.

"Eat, eat," Donnzho said and slapped Ridgeback's back with a fat meaty hand.

"So, what news from Tesla?" Ridgeback asked as he tore a chunk of meat from the bone. "How is the First Son?"

"Bah, he's becoming as crazed as his father, if not more so," Donnzho said. "His sons are already eying his seat."

"Oh…are they?" Ridgeback asked, doing his best to look innocent. Juarez eyed him briefly before returning his attention to a row of stuffed mushrooms. Donnzho chuckled a throaty chuckle that made his jowls quake.

"You have no idea. Be glad you're not in Tesla now," he said. "There are already talks that the Council of Law might interfere and name their own successor."

"They wouldn't dare," Ridgeback gasped. "They never interfered with the First Son before. Why now?"

"Only rumors," Juarez said. "Still, there are those on the Council that are starting to become bolder. Especially those led by Mann."

"Don't mention that Nel-loving fool," Donnzho said.

Juarez sighed and popped a mushroom into his mouth.

"Wasn't Mann one of Tesla's most famous raiders? How many Nels did he bring under heel?" Ridgeback asked.

"Enough for some of the Sons of the Mantis to listen to him," Juarez replied. He gestured for Ridgeback to lean closer to him. Ridgeback leaned in and Juarez whispered, "He's saying that certain tablets were found deep in the sacred archives."

"What tablets?"

Juarez looked at Donnzho who decided to ignore the conversation by continuing to eat.

"Tablets that were supposedly written by the Sacred Mantis himself. Those tablets said that females born under the Mantis should be considered as fellow Children of the Mantis. Mann takes that to mean that the Third Rite should be abolished and that females born of Tesla's subjects should have the same rights and privileges as the males."

"What? That's blasphemy. The female should be subjugated to the males. That's what we've always been taught."

"Well, there are those who have had enough of the Third Rite and they're becoming bolder. Some of the bands of raiders have even stopped raiding as a way of protest. Their voices can only be silenced for so long, especially since the Proctors have reported that the numbers of those who display some level of remorse while performing the Third Rite has increased quite substantially."

Ridgeback bit his lower lip. He wondered why Thulsa hadn't informed him of this, but he felt he already knew the reason. Thulsa didn't want him to know about it in case it gave him ideas to declare Maluerta independent from Tesla rule.

Right, as if I would ever betray Tesla, he thought. Then another thought rose in his mind.

"How are Delgado's sons reacting to this?"

"Thulsa wants to immediately disband the Council of Law and crush those who are protesting against our established culture. Mephisto, on the other hand…" Juarez only shrugged. "He's hard to read."

Mephisto's an opportunist. Everyone knows that, Ridgeback thought. He didn't know which was worst to put in charge: an iron-clad conservative who had some sense of duty to one's beliefs and yet no sense of mercy or an egotist with no real sense of ethics.

"That's enough of that," Donnzho said. "Ridgeback doesn't need to know any of this. It has no bearing in him fulfilling his sacred duties. Right, Kahn?"

"Yes…that's right," Ridgeback replied. Yet he couldn't help but feel that his future just became a little less certain. Something about his discomfort must have shown in his demeanor since Donnzho put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Kahn. I'm sure that you'll do just fine."

"Yeah….yeah…I'll…I'll do fine."

Why can't things just stay simple?

Hanataro

Hanataro could only stare as Grimmjow listened and nodded.

"So, Kurosaki became a Captain, eh? Don't know how I feel about that," Grimmjow said. "Now, why are you here?"

"We told you," Ikkaku said. "We're here to get the lay of the land. The Captains are concerned about any possible situations arising that could affect the World of the Living."

"Well, you got the info you needed," Grimmjow said. "Why are you still here?"

"We told you that too," Ikkaku replied. "We need to get our comrades back. I bet you probably weren't even listening about anything other than Ichigo."

"Leave them," Grimmjow said. "Get out while you can. Not everyone will be fooled by your little meat sacks."

"They're our friends," Hanataro said. "We can't just leave them."

"Tch…that's what I did," Grimmjow said, "and I turned out just fine. I survived."

"Yeah, and you don't even think about your old Fracción?" Hanataro asked.

"Why should I bother remembering them? They couldn't even win a simple fight."

"How…how could you…?" Hanataro began, shaking with rage. "How could you talk about them like that? I read the reports and I read the accounts. They…they were loyal to you. They respected you and followed you. How…how could you be so ungrateful for their sacrifice? You…you…you're a coward."

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed as he stood and walked towards Hanataro. Ikkaku got up, ready to draw his sword. Grimmjow pointed a finger at Ikkaku as if warning him to stay where he was. He never took his eyes off Hanataro who rose in defiance, though he still shook like a leaf clinging to a branch in a strong wind.

"A…coward?" Grimmjow hissed. "Did you really call me a coward?"

"Yes," Hanataro said, voice shaking. Something told him that it would be a mistake to look away from Grimmjow and so he fought the urge to look away. Grimmjow and put a hand on Hanataro's head.

Grimmjow surprised both Hanataro and Ikkaku. He laughed and rubbed Hanataro's hair.

"Oh, got to hand it you, small fry. You got guts. Can you take me on in a fight? Hell no, you can't. Still, that defiance…" Grimmjow snickered a little. "It reminds me of him, in a way."

"Ichigo?" Ikkaku asked.

"Yeah…sure…" Grimmjow whispered. Ikkaku couldn't be certain, but he thought he saw an emotion like guilt or sorrow come to his eyes for a brief moment. He remained silent and then nodded, as if coming to some decision. "Alright, let's get going. I need a good workout."

Tatsuki

Tatsuki felt the iron maiden being raised and the top-layer of sand shifted slightly. Whatever was going on was nothing good. There came a series of clicking sounds as the locking mechanisms were unlocked. The metal front swung open with a slight creaking sound and Tatsuki was carried with the flowing sand. She felt weak and light-headed. She tried to get her bearings, but a thick rugged cloth was forced over her eyes.

"Don't try to speak, Nel," someone growled in her ear. "We'll gag you if you try. This one goes to the arena. The other goes to the pen."

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get this over with."

"Such an honor," the first speaker whispered in her ear. "Too bad you won't be made chattel. I can tell that you would provide a challenge to subdue. Ah well, at least this will be enjoyable enough."

Before Tatsuki could respond she felt something pricking her arm.

"Easy now, you'll feel good with this. It's Octavian approved."

Kahn Ridgeback

It's nasty business, but at least it will be over soon, Ridgeback thought as he felt the dagger's weight.

"So, you're finally going through with it," Juarez said as he patted Ridgeback's shoulder.

"Yes; I'm sure that First Son Delgado will be pleased to know that he will finally have a colony in Triple territory."

"He will," Juarez said and he leaned forward. "I saw that Thulsa was here earlier. It's a shame that he's not here right now to see your triumph."

It's not much of a triumph if I'm indebted to him, Ridgeback thought. He smiled and nodded. "It is a shame. I would prefer him to deliver news of our new colony to the First Son, but I suppose I must leave that honor to you."

Juarez pulled Ridgeback closer to him.

"Just be sure that there are no last minute problems. The deed isn't done yet and we haven't returned to Tesla yet to deliver the good news. Be sure that you do your duty and we're happy."

"Of course, I will not displease anyone who is in service to the Great Son. Besides the proper measures are being instigated," Ridgeback whispered. He felt uneasy.

"Just remember who holds your leash."

"I…I do," Ridgeback whispered. Juarez patted Ridgeback's shoulder and smiled.

"Good boy," he said.

Ridgeback fought the urge to plunge the dagger into the representative's throat. Doing something as reckless like that would bring down the First Sons' wrathful hand on him. He knew the consequences of such recklessness. He would have nowhere to go except for the wilderness only to be hunted like an animal. No, if he was to die he wanted to die standing as a Son. He had his pride and honor as a Son of the Mantis to think about.

Once this is done, maybe…maybe I'll find a way…I'll…

He looked down at the dagger and knew that he would never be free of Tesla's hold. He had made too many promises and had too many failures. Tesla would never let him out of its sight. He had to do what he swore to do.

I'm lost, he thought, fighting back the tears. I'm lost and I'm afraid. I hate them all.

He heard the beating of the ceremonial drums. It was time for him to fulfill his obligations.

Ikkaku

Ikkaku peered over a large bolder and looked at the colony ahead of them. He could see hulking Berserkers pulling huge stone blocks up ramps lining an incomplete wall. Some smaller and leaner Arrancars paced on the wall ready with whips of concentrated Reiatsu. He saw others sealing cracks between the blocks with sand that they hardened with their Reiatsu.

Somewhere further in the colony he could make out the rhythmic sound of beating drums. The sound made him feel uneasy. Something was going on and instinct told him that it was nothing good. Yet, it could work in their favor if it distracted the majority of the inhabitants.

"They're not exactly ready for an attack," Ikkaku muttered.

Hanataro peered out to take a look and frowned.

"I don't see them," he said.

"They're probably further in."

"Okay, but how are we supposed to even find them?"

"Honestly, don't you know how to use Pesquisa?" Grimmjow asked.

"It just looks like blue flames," Hanataro replied. "I'm not used to it."

"Okay, listen closely, shrimp. The size of the flame tells you how much potential an individual has. The larger the flame the more potential. Got it?"

"I guess that makes sense," Hanataro said.

"That's why I was able to go after Kurosaki. He was like a torch in the midst of the candle. A dim torch sure, but a torch all the same. At least until I faced him more than once. Then his flame became darker. The darker the flame the more familiar you are with that person. It can even get to the point to where you immediately recognize who someone is with just their flame."

"Really?" Hanataro asked.

"Really. Close your eyes and give it a try," Grimmjow said. He looked at Ikkaku and smirked. "I wonder how this shrimp is able to use Pesquisa and you're not…Shinigami."

"Don't test my patience, Kitty-Cat," Ikkaku snarled. "Why should I learn how to use Pesquisa?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "It comes in handy when hunting for prey," he said. "It's how I was able find you two."

Hanataro straightened a little and smiled. "I found them. I actually found them. Mister Grimmjow, you were right. Their flames were darker, like sapphires."

"Alright then," Grimmjow said. "Shrimp, it's clear that you're not a fighter. Just let baldy here know their whereabouts." His grin widened and the scar that ran across his face made it look even more sinister. "Leave the diversion to me."

Tatsuki

The stone benches surrounding the sandy ring were filled with bare-chested Sons, roaring their joy and mockery. Crimson banners decorated with a golden crescent and a series of black lines and angles that were arranged to look like a cruel grinning face fluttered in the night breeze. Two drummers beat their drums in order to help increase the frenzy.

Tatsuki was dragged out into the cacophony as though she was a ragdoll. Her vision swam and her head felt as if it was filled with cotton. She looked to where Kahn Ridgeback stood on the balcony across from her. He was clad in a thigh-length crimson coat decorated with strips of metal that made it look as if he was wearing a cage. She wanted to laugh, but only a dry hacking came out of her mouth. A dagger with a silvery metal handle studded with precious stones hung at his right side in an ornate metal scabbard. He looked down at Tatsuki and smiled as he raised a hand.

The assembled Arrancars fell silent, expectant of their leader.

"Under the moon we honor our Father," he said. "The Mantis abides in us and we abide in His glory. Let us dedicate this new city to His strength and glory. Let us dedicate this new city to the most sacred creed: Strength through Dominion; Glory by Subjugation!"

"STRENGTH THROUGH DOMINION; GLORY BY SUBJUGATION!" the assembled Sons shouted raising fists to the night sky.

"This sacrifice," he continued pointing at Tatsuki, "is a symbol of all the Mantis despised: decadence, weakness, and chaos. The Nels have, for too long, fought against their rightful place, subservient to the conqueror. It is our sacred duty to destroy the pillars of their arrogance and return them to their rightful place.

"Let this Nel be our bride to subdue, and if she refuses to be subdued then let her be a cobblestone to pave the road for her husband's glory. Her virtue is not her own, but her husband's. Her life is not her own, but her husband's."

Tatsuki's mind barely registered his words, but a deep instinct kicked into self-preservation mode. She tried to fight against the drug, willed herself to move one muscle. Yet there wasn't even much as a twitch.

"We will make wives of all the tribes!" the leader roared. "We will rape them and we will plunder them as is our right! WE ARE BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL!"

The Sons roared in approval and the drums became a frenzy.

"Let this Nel be our first bride!"

With those words the Kahn jumped from the dais. He landed with panther-like dexterity on the sand.

"SUBJUGATE! SUBJUGATE! SUBJUGATE!" the Sons chanted as their leader removed his crimson cloak revealing a well-muscled body covered in tattoos and piercings, each telling a story, whether true or false, of victory and domination. His right hand went to the ornate dagger hanging from his belt.

Must…move…must…fight, Tatsuki thought as her mind finally registered the dagger.

She could see him approaching her and then his feet went out of her view. She wished that she could follow his movements, but the muscles in her neck refused to move. The drug they gave her was doing its work well.

Please…someone…

She could only manage to close her eyes.

The Inner World

Tatsuki stirred slightly and she opened her eyes. She was no longer in the arena, surrounded by the howling Sons. She was in an all-too familiar ring of stone. The air was filled with fire and ashes, but now she could hear screaming. It was strange, she never thought that an inner world could be filled with its own inhabitants. When Ichigo told her about his he never mentioned seeing anyone other than Zangetsu and the pale, chaotic version of himself.

"Don't worry about them."

Tatsuki turned and saw her inner Hollow leaning against one of the stone pillars. She was eating something pale and small. Tatsuki watched in revulstion of tendrils of flesh and muscle stretched as The Dragon devoured the thing. Blood oozed down The Dragon's chin and onto her breasts.

"I need to eat after all, and they fill me up nicely."

"Why am I here again?"

"You're here because you want to be here," The Dragon said, chewing on the raw flesh. She swallowed and smiled. "I told you that you wouldn't have to be powerless again if you just joined with me. Are you ready to become one with me?"

"I know what it would mean. I would turn against all those whom I love and..."

The Dragon snorted and tossed aside the small carcass. Before Tatsuki could react The Dragon grabbed her and lifted her high. Their eyes locked on each other and Tatsuki could feel The Dragon's claws digging into the very depths of her being.

"Can't you feel it? Can't you feel the hunger howling inside you even now? Does it terrify you, or does it make you feel more alive?"

"I don't…"

"Don't you realize that you're not the prey there? You are the predator. Now is the time for you to become its equal. Or would you rather be cut apart like a piece of meat? Embrace me and I will help you become the predator you truly are. You are meant to devour and not be devoured."

Tatsuki shook her head. The Dragon's smile widened and she fell into a fit of laughter. Tatsuki could smell carrion on her breath.

"OH! Playing hard-to-get are we? Here I thought that you were a boring prude. Instead, I find a degenerate beast in human clothing. I find a creature that wants to feast on blood and dance a storm of fire and ashes."

"I don't..."

"You do. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me. I know you better than you know yourself. And you…you are a predator."

Tatsuki felt The Dragon's lips lock onto hers. Her mouth became filled with the iron taste of blood as The Dragon's kiss deepened. She found that she had an abyssal thirst. She could feel herself change as she had in Pantera when The Dragon took over.

"Come, let us indulge in our revelry."

No, she thought, not again. I will not...

She lost control.

Kahn Ridgeback

Kahn Ridgeback felt a sense of triumph fill him as he looked down at the unconscious Nel. It would only take one final stroke of his blade and this part of the ritual would be over. Maluerta would be sanctified and his position would be secured. He felt relieved.

I did it. I finally did it. I didn't fail! I didn't fail! I DIDN'T FAIL!

The thought filled him with glee. He looked up to the Sons cheering him before going into the chant of "KILL! KILL! KILL!" He raised his arms in triumph and tossed his blade into the air. He caught it by the hilt with the blade's point mere inches from the Nel's stomach. He looked towards the representatives from Tesla, making sure that they were watching. He would rub his triumph in their faces. He would show that he did have some level of autonomy and damn the consequences.

Juarez nodded with a small smile. Donnzho's fat face was practically beaming with excitement as he applauded.

I'm not a slave after all. I'm the master of my own destiny. I can make others submit to my will. I AM AN ÜBERMENSCH!

Kahn didn't have a chance at thrusting the blade down as the sudden rush of Reiatsu threw him back. Sand burst from around the Nel's body as if a storm had suddenly risen. Kahn stared in terror as the Nel seemed to be lifted up by the sheer power of her Reiatsu.

This…this can't be happening.

The Nel's eyes flew open and he saw that there was something different about them. They were burning with hatred and a terrible darkness was beginning to spread from the pupils. The Nel's lips curled into a snarl and she let out a harsh hiss.

Kahn felt himself become rigid with fear. This was not how things were supposed to go. She was supposed to be dead by now. Instead, she was standing before him, looking stronger and more ferocious than she had before. The sand seemed to gather towards her curled hand where her energy shaped it and hardened it into something that he couldn't make out.

"You don't fuck with the dragon," the Nel hissed as she plunged the sandstone blade into his neck.

Kahn raised a hand to the blade and felt the cold and wet flow of blood. The blade was pulled out from his wound and he looked in terror as the Nel kicked him to the ground. She straddled him and raised the blade over his throat.

"No…" he pleaded as tears trailed from his eyes.

Not like this. I don't want to die like this. The shame…the humiliation…the waste…my…my liberty…

"Yes," the Nel whispered, smiling as she pushed the blade into his throat.

Somewhere there came an explosion and the Sons yelled in confusion and rage and fear.

Ikkaku

Ikkkau raced between large building stones next to the arena, some were being carved to form pillars and others were already being carved with reliefs for the façade. He heard another explosion coming from somewhere to his right and dodged behind some of the stones as a small group of Arrancar guards ran past. Judging from the number of explosions Grimmjow was having far too much fun and Ikkaku felt jealous. Yet he had his own job to do.

"Come on, where are you?" he muttered.

He opened his pesquisa and still found it difficult to distinguish the flames of Reiatsu. The all looked the same to him. He cursed Hanataro's luck for being adapt at this. He could make out a bunch of flames gathered in the arena and those were now starting to dissipate and some were being extinguished.

"Huh, I wonder…"

He focused on a strangely colored flame. Unlike the others which were solid colors this one was like a kaleidoscope, colors shifting and clashing. That particular flame looked as if it was engulfing any flame that got too close to it. He felt he could safely assume it was Tatsuki.

There was another explosion, but this one came from within the arena. Ikkaku readied his zanpakuto and he made his way to the arena's entrance. He heard yelling from ahead and saw bursts of light, ceros and balas. He heard another explosion coming from his left and saw part of the newly built wall erupt with a burst of blue flame.

"COME ON, SCUM! ARE YOU SCARED OF A LITTLE FIRE?" Grimmjow yelled.

Well, at least he's keeping them occupied, Ikkaku thought.

He turned his attention back to the arena's entrance in time to see a figure flying at him. Ikkaku dodged before the flying Arrancar could hit him. He looked down at the Arrancar and saw that he had been badly charred, his red eyes were wide with terror.

"Sh—sh—shit…" the Arrancar gasped.

Ikkaku heard a roar of rage and excitement and he looked back in time to see another Arrancar flying at him. This one was naked, clutching a blade made of stone. Its eyes were pure black and its lips were pulled back in a snarl.

"Oh shit!" Ikkaku shouted.

He dodged just in time. He brought his zanpakuto up and then recognized Tatsuki's Arrancar gigai.

"H-hey! Commander, it's me. It's me!"

Tatsuki only let out a howl of rage and rushed at him. Ikkaku dodged again and then saw something like fire rushing towards him.

"OH SHIT!" he shouted. He hit the ground just as the stream of fire that Tatsuki breathed out rushed above him.

Since when can Arrancars breathe fire?

He wondered if this was something that came naturally to Arrancars like ceros and balas or if this was something that only Tatsuki could do for some reason he couldn't fathom. He would have to ask Nemu about it when he had the chance. But right now, the most important thing was to get Tatsuki under control.

Years of training and serving in Squad 11 had taught Ikkaku many skills and one of them was how to go from defense to offense at a moment's notice. He used a portion of his Reiatsu to push himself off the ground and quickly bent his knees and feet to where he could just pop back up on his feet like some living jack-in-the-box. He raised his blade in time to block a blow from Tatsuki's stone knife. He looked at the hand holding the knife and grabbed her wrist.

"Hey, commander, it's me. I'm not your enemy. So stop trying to fry my ass!"

A low, rasping chuckle came from Tatsuki as her black eyes narrowed. Ikkaku felt a shiver run up his spine at the sound.

"Dinner time," Tatsuki hissed.

"Hell no," Ikkaku said. "I don't taste that good!"

In a quick motion Ikkaku pushed her back and raised his sword. Just as Tatsuki was about to rush him he brought the blade's hilt down hard on the back of her head. Tatsuki let out a soft gasp of surprise, but Ikkaku quickly struck her forehead with the hilt. Tatsuki fell backwards onto the ground. Ikkaku took out a small bottle of the drug he took from one of the guards and put some on a strip of cloth that he then held over Tatsuki's mouth and nose. He knew that she would understand.

"Sorry about that, but I'm not on anybody's menu," Ikkaku said as he lifted her unconscious body.

Hanataro

Hanataro bit his lip, ducking behind a pile of stone blocks. He could sense the Lieutenant, even with how odd her Reiatsu felt. But the battle was so thick he was unsure of forcing his way through was a valid option. He couldn't even hope to go unnoticed despite Grimmjow throwing around ceros.

The former Espada was right when he said he wasn't on their side. He was simply pointed in the same direction as them right now. He was an ally of convenience, nothing more.

Looking out from his cover it seemed that the battle was shifting away from him. But the enemy could decide to reorganize here.

He decided that it was time to stop thinking and act. He shifted into Sonído and reached the coliseum without incident, but he kept low as three Sons ran by. He hoped that the enemy would be too focused on the destruction to think twice about stealth.

He could sense Ikkaku moving close to the Lieutenant and it seemed that they made contact. Hanataro breathed a sigh of relief. It was tempting for them to regroup, but Nemu was still locked away.

Plus those two would likely bring too much attention, he thought. If our enemy realize that Nemu is an ally they might use her as a hostage. If they do that, then they'll have us trapped. Then the mission would be a complete failure. That settles it, rescuing Nemu is the priority now.

He could feel fear rise in him at the thought that he had to rescue Nemu alone. Too much was riding on this and he felt its weight on him.

Yet he knew that he had to move quickly and not give panic any opportunity to take hold of him. He knew that he was capable of taking action when the need rose. He had done it before and he had Ichigo to thank for helping him find the courage that was buried deep within him. Now, here was another time for him to step up. He took a deep breath.

"Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway," he whispered to himself. Ever since he discovered the old quote he made it his own personal creed. Each day he hoped to live up to them.

Yet he knew that courage alone would not be enough to compensate for his lack of combat ability. He had to reach back to his days in Drowned Rat and the skills he learned there.

He looked towards a tall structure in the center of the town. Banners of hollow hides dyed yellow and painted with a crimson crescent, horns turned upward, hung from the main tower. A roughly hewn stone statue of a tall, lanky Arrancar with four arms, each holding a scythe with a bronze blade, seemed to glower in his direction. Hanataro felt his heart beating against his chest as he moved with speed and resolve.

The sound of an exploding cero made his feet falter and he wanted to fling himself towards the ground. Yet he resisted.

Rescuing Nemu was his top priority. He had to focus on the task at hand. He closed his eyes and opened his pesquisa. He sensed three flames nearby. Two were unfamiliar yet relatively strong. The third, however, was bright, indicating someone he knew. He opened his eyes and could still sense the flames coming from ahead. Yet the only thing he saw in the flames' vicinity was the statue.

Am I missing something? Maybe I miscalculated or maybe…

That was when he noticed that the ground gently sloped downward to a metal door built into the statue's base. He raced towards it and examined it. He felt the cold metal and thought that it was made of a familiar material. Careful examination revealed a small indentation along the right edge and he gasped. It was familiar and a shudder ran up his spine. He knew this kind of door.

He placed his right thumb into the indentation and released a small amount of spirit energy. The door slid to the left as he knew it would. He pushed aside the thoughts, focusing on the job at hand.

I can ask her about this when this is over, he thought.

He stepped into the entryway and saw a prison cell at the far side made of sandstone bars with lengths of metal entwined around them. Two Arrancars straightened as they looked at him.

"What do you want?" one of them asked.

"I…uh…there's…" Hanataro stammered as the two Arrancars glared at him.

"Come on, spit it out, boy," the others snarled.

Hanataro took a deep breath as he looked at them. He didn't need to fear them. They were like any of the brutes in Squad Eleven who pushed him around. He knew how to handle these two.

"We're under attack," Hanataro said. "I was sent to pass on commands. You are to join the fray."

The two guards looked at each other, uncertain.

"Strange, we have orders saying we're to keep guard no matter what," one said.

"Still…a fight…" the other said, smiling.

"How do we know you…?"

"Who are you to question commands?" Hanataro shouted. The guards looked at him, glaring.

Don't look away. Keep eye contact.

"These orders are directly from higher up. The Commander told me to inform you that any Arrancars who disobeyed this command are to be strung up and castrated as soon as possible. Do I have to note your names or not?"

The two looked at each other and smiled.

"Well…orders are orders," one said.

"Yeah, we better make sure not to miss out on the fun."

The two ran out, not paying Hanataro any mind. Hanataro didn't realize that he was holding his breath until he relaxed. He went to the bars and looked in. He saw Nemu's naked body curled up on the floor.

"Nemu…Nemu…it's…"

In one swift motion Nemu was at the bars, a hand around his throat, strangling him with an iron grip. Hanataro looked at her and saw something that made him afraid. Her eyes were not like those of a living automaton, but there was a darkness lurking deep in them that was like some monstrous basilisk.

"Who…who…" Hanataro gasped.

Something in Nemu snapped back into place and she released him. Hanataro gasped as he regained his breath.

"You are to refer to me as Judea during the duration of the mission," Nemu said. "Did you forget?"

"I'm sorry…I was…I was worried and…."

"It is a waste of energy to worry about me," Nemu said. She put her hands on the bars and pulled them towards her. There was a grinding sound that was followed by a crunch as the stone and metal gave way. "There we are. No need to worry about a key and…" She cocked her head slightly as she looked at the look on Hanataro's face. "Is there a problem?"

Hanataro looked away and toward the metal door.

I can't ask her right now, he thought. His heart pounded in his chest. I can't…she was going to kill me. It could have just been instinct, but what…what if?

"It's just…you're…you're not wearing any clothes."

"Oh, is that all?"

Ikkaku

Ikkaku knew he had to find Hanataro. He shifted Tatsuki slightly so that he had a better grip. He really didn't want to drop her and wake up hungry-eyes.

"Nemu better not be in a similar state. I can't exactly carry both of them at once," he whispered.

He cried out as part of a squat stone building exploded out in front of him. He cursed Grimmjow under his breath. The last thing he needed was to get taken out by friendly fire, if the term "friendly" could ever be applied to Grimmjow. Still, Grimmjow was doing his part and proving to be a one-Arrancar army in his own right. Ikkaku would prefer to be fighting some enemies, but his primary duty was to get Tatsuki out of here.

"You better not whine about how you didn't need any saving after this," he growled. "I want some damn gratitude from you for putting my neck out."

He let out a small chuckle.

"Ah, Yumichika, if you could see me now. You would probably think I suffered some kind of brain damage to make me so damn responsible."

He staggered his way among some debris. Two dead Arrancars showed that Grimmjow must have come through here to clear the way to the wall. He paused to get his bearings. He hated the thought of going around in circles. Yet he figured that he was heading in the right direction to the pre-determined rendezvous point.

Ridgeback

He didn't know how long it had been since the Nel plunged the sandstone blade into his throat. The coppery taste of blood still filled his mouth as Kahn Ridgeback stirred. He put his hand to the wound, and could feel his hierro regenerating to heal the wound.

Thank the Mantis she didn't think to cut my head off. Otherwise I really would be dead.

While most Sons viewed the ability of regeneration as a sign of weakness, causing those with regenerative abilities to keep them secret, Ridgeback was sometimes grateful for it. He was not eager to die in any disgraceful manner.

"Sir, sir!"

Ridgeback turned and saw one of his guardsman running towards him.

"What is it?"

"Sir, we were attacked!"

"What? How many?"

"Three of them attacked us. We don't know where they came from. They…they…"

"Well, what is it? Spit it out," Ridgeback ordered. His head pounded and the last thing he needed was a crisis.

"The Nels got away."

"What? Both of them?" Panic rose in Ridgeback's mind. He felt his body tense and he looked around, as if hoping to see the Nels standing nearby. Then he remembered and he looked towards the seats of honor.

"Where are the representatives from Tesla?"

"What?"

"THE REPRESENTATIVES FROM TESLA! WHERE ARE THEY?" he roared. His eyes bulged and his mind reeled in terror.

"They…they're gone."

"Gone? What do you mean 'they're gone'? Are they dead?"

If they're dead then I still have a chance. I can just make a false report and…

"No, they left. I think…they…"

Ridgeback felt his entire body go tense. His eyes bulged even more and were on the verge of popping out of his head. Pure terror flowed through his mind. He must have heard wrong. He prayed to the Mantis that he heard wrong.

"What did you say?"

"They left. After that Nel…well…attacked you, they took off."

"No, no, no, no. This can't be happening. No, I…I can fix this. I can still make things right. The attackers, did you see which way they went?"

"Yes sir, they took off towards Sanction."

So, those sand bitches must have found out about us and sent a small raiding party. Yes, I can still make things right. If I can get them and…

A small spark of hope took hold of his mind.

"How long ago?"

"Not long, and they're not using Sonído."

Ridgeback frowned slightly. It was strange that they wouldn't use Sonído to escape, but it didn't matter. If they were running then it would only make it easier to catch up with them.

"Get a raiding party together, right now. We're going after them."

"Yes sir."

As the guard ran to get the Sons assembled Ridgeback stood and walked to where his blade lay on the arena's sandy floor. He picked it up and gritted his teeth.

I can make things right. I won't fail again. I promise.

Tesla

"ENTER!" the voice echoed beyond the door. The guard braced himself for the meeting with a deep breath and pushed open the steel doors engraved with harsh lines that, when viewed from afar, looked like the grinning face of the Great Mantis. He bowed before entering the chambers of the First Son, Holden Delgado.

Chandeliers fashioned from bones, mask fragment, and metal hung overhead. The luminescent crystal and burning candles provided the only light in the room, causing the shadows to shift with the slightest motion. He couldn't resist confirming the rumors and he glanced to the walls to either side. The rumors were true.

Mounted heads seemed to gaze down upon him and the shifting shadows made it seem as though they were alive. Most of their features were lost in the shadows, and that only made them more ominous.

"It is a standing order that I not be disturbed at this time. You better have a good reason for interrupting my pleasure," a strong baritone voice said.

That drew his attention to the one piece of furniture in the room. The First Son sat in a simple backless chair. His upper body was bare revealing a chiseled frame in a light but healthy Hierro. His rugged blond locks fell about his shoulders and framed his face. It was a handsome face with a square jaw and well-defined features, but there was nothing delicate in it. His mask fragment covered much of the upper-left side of his face before flaring out along his temple like a wing. The most unnerving thing about him were his single laughing blue eye and the black hole in the white plate where his left eye had been.

The First Son also seemed to not be wearing any pants. It was hard to tell with the chattel in front of him, leaning up into his lap.

The sight stunned the guard and he couldn't speak. Then came the First Son's reiatsu, like a razor pressing against his throat. He quickly overcame his shock, knowing that if he didn't say anything then he would be dead.

"M-most masculine of Sons!" he cried out and went to one knee and bowed. "I received word from our representatives that the colony of Maluerta failed its Rite of Invocation."

"That's all. So you interrupted my pleasure just to tell me that a pack of incompetent whelps actually botched the ceremony. You should have waited until after I was finished."

"I…I apologize Son of Sons, but…"

"BUT WHAT?" he roared and there was another burst of Reiatsu. The guard felt it stop just at his throat, but he felt a trickle of blood on his skin. Delgado reached out and grabbed the chattel's head. He pulled it from its work in his lap, revealing his long and thick manhood, still erect and gleaming with spittle. "Answer well or die."

"They…they didn't fail out of incompetence, Son of Sons. The Nelliel that your son, Thulsa, brought them she…she uh…uh…"

"She what?"

"She attacked the Colony Commander!" the guard said in fear. "And then there was a raid. A small raid, but most likely from the Triples." The guard shut his eyes and waited for a blow. Yet Delgado didn't do or say anything. His merry blue eye became filled with rage and the chattel moaned in the silence.

"How did she get a hand on a weapon to attack one of my brethren?"

"She…she made a blade from the arena's sand."

"She used a sandstone blade? Was she not properly drugged? Did he not use his sword?" Delgado demanded, his voice calm. The guard shuddered. He was taught by his father that there were two types of rage: the fiery rage and the windy rage. The fiery rage was raised fists and voices and blows, but the windy rage was far more dangerous. It was calm, not betraying itself, and usually ended with a dagger in someone's back.

"She…she was properly drugged. He used his blade when he sensed that the drugs were ineffective against her."

"Yet she attacked him with a sandstone blade," Delgado mused, twisting the chattel's hair in his grip. "Where is the Nelliel now? Have they made her chattel?"

"It would appear the Triples may have rescued her…as for the other Nel…we don't know, but I suppose she got rescued as well."

"I see. What was the raiding party like?"

"The representatives claimed that there were two men who attacked and aided the Nels in escaping. Maluerta's asking for assistance in finding the Nels and avenging the insult," the guard said.

"Insult," Delgado said, tasting the word and then shook his head. "This is no mere insult. This is a disgrace." There was a snapping sound as Delgado casually broke the chattel's neck. The shit-caked wretch was pushed back to sprawl on the floor. Delgado stood, his leather trousers still piled about his ankles. His manhood became even more erect as a smile crept on his face.

"Send word to my son, Mephisto. Tell him to send the Manos de Teresa immediately," Delgado commanded. His single blue eye was filled with blood-lust.

"The Manos de Teresa? For two Nels?" the guard wondered aloud.

"No, they're for Maluerta. They have proven themselves to not be True Sons, but merely slaves unfit to draw breath. They are to be exterminated and the commander brought back to me, alive. However, hold the execution on the other Sons of Maluerta until after they provide details for the hunt to bring those Nels to justice. I want their cocks to be cut off and their masks removed as proof that they've been purified. Have our representatives be the first to be purified for their part. This disgrace must be amended.

"Tell Mephisto that he is to bring me the Nelliel who made a mockery of Maluerta's governor alive and as intact as possible. I will purify her into chattel myself before she dies by the spears of Tesla. GO!" Delgado roared as he pulled up his trousers.

The guard bowed and ran out of the chamber, happy to be alive.

Holden Delgado watched the nervous little guard run out of the chamber and was pleased to be alone again. There were times when it seemed as though he was the only True Son left. Although, to be fair, he had to admit that as the epitome of masculinity it was natural to see other men, who might otherwise seem proficient, as nothing but stumbling women.

And that one was not as observant as he should have been. I may have to replace him, he thought.

It wouldn't do if his guards didn't take note of every little detail.

Delgado looked down and smiled when he saw his dear Verde Nel. She was curled up, like a dog, on the cold floor next to his chair. He picked up the leash of gold chain from the floor and woke her with a tug. Yawning, she rose onto her fours and stretched, the diamond encrusted green collar glittered in the soft light. He glanced at the mere chattel dead at his feet and back to his true prize.

She was no starved muck-caked spawn from the Uterum. Her sea foam green hair that had first stirred him to such passion for her was clean and thick. Clips embedded into her Hierro, hidden to most eyes, guided it ensuring that it stuck to her back, stopping short of her rounded ass per his trimming. From the base of her neck to her toes he had painstakingly, and painful to her, dyed her flesh green in order to match the dress depicted in the Winter War murals. He had even marked her face after the true Nelliel.

On his own initiative he had begun tattooing black spirals across her to better appreciate her figure.

She was clean as no female in his kingdom of depravity and insanity was. And well-fed, but carefully so as to keep her fullness from turning into fat. Even her forearms and shins were not calloused like others of her kind.

She was his art, his passion. She was the one female in his possession that never ceased to fascinate and excite him. There were few women he wanted to turn into his art, and they were out of his reach.

At least for now, he thought as he stroked Verde's back. She looked up at him with worshipful eyes and smiled. He saw possibilities in using the attack on Maluerta, part of the Mantis's domain, as a declaration of war from the Triples. No one sitting on the Council of Law would object then and they were the only ones keeping him from doing everything he wanted.

It should be the leader who dictates the laws, not the other way around, he thought.

He grabbed the foot of the dead chattel and dragged it behind him. He turned into his chambers and Verde followed, not having to be prodded. Though she did keep a good distance as she could from the stinking carcass.

There were days that he wished she could talk so that she could thank him for her metamorphosis from a mere female into a true work of living art.

I am an artist, he thought. It was true that being a warrior was his primary drive, and he made sure that he did not neglect it. But a man should not be judged by his duty alone. He should also be judged by what he does in leisure. And unlike so many Sons, violence and fornication alone did not suffice.

He desired to be the master of violence and fornication and the best way to do that was to transform them. He had done so. He had made an art of those two cardinal virtues that some in the Council of Law desired to do away with all together.

The faces that always watched over him from their perches were another example of his art. They were not all the men he had killed, despite the rumor. No, he was far more prolific. He only kept the heads that inspired him. They were his muses. Once he got a new muse he just had to rearrange the row to best bring out the faces.

Only males were good for that. Women were just too ugly and the chattel were not worth mounting. Except for Verde. If he ever tired of her then he planned to stuff her and preserve her as a piece of furniture at least.

Or as a sculpture devoted to myself for myself, he thought.

He stopped in front of a wall and tapped a spot five times with his hand. He could hear the grinding of hidden gears and machines. The hidden stone door was opening.

Yet living females could provide amusement of their own, he thought and smiled at the figure standing in the doorway.

A woman clad in a long black leather gown decorated with iron studs stood before him like a terrible wraith. He could see the scars where her breasts had been before she cut them off to show her devotion to him. She was completely bald and her scalp was decorated with spiraling tattoos whose ink, she claimed, was her own blood. She had dyed her skin from a light golden color to chalk white, as though trying to erase who she once was. Her lips were stained a dark purplish red.

Behind her was a stone walkway lined with nothing to guard the edges and a series of stone steps that led down into the darkness. All else was darkness with only the natural luminescent mineral providing light, casting the shadows of chains and hooks against the walls.

"Son of Sons," she said, bowing.

"Motley," he said and placed a hand on her shoulder. "How's the work?"

"The work goes well," she said and grinned, revealing a mouth that shone with sharpened metal. He remembered how she had plucked out all of her teeth and embedded the metal shards into her empty gums. It was one of the most exciting things he ever saw. That was when he knew that she was worthy of his favors. She was, like him, an artist who longed to transform the natural into a reflection of their own perversions.

He nodded in approval and he walked onto the walkway over the pit. His seven lovelies heard him and stirred themselves at the bottom of the pit. Verde cowered back behind him while he lifted the corpse out in front of him to dangle over the edge. He looked down and smiled.

They were truly magnificent. They had been chattels, but he had spotted them young and plucked them from their reeking ranks. They were covered in patchworks of fur. The scalps he had cut from the dead chattel himself and sown into their bleeding hierros, forcing a bond with his masterful Reiatsu control. Their faces were covered in a similar manner by mask fragments he had ripped from wild women. Barely a speck of bare flesh could be seen on them as they shambled below, howling their greeting. The dim light caught the glint of their metal teeth and claws.

He had done what was deemed to be an abomination, even among the hardliners. He had made teeth and claws from the blades of dead chattel and drove them into bare gums and under fingernails. Yet why not? He was the First Son and he was absolute. He was not dead like Tesla Lindocruz.

Tesla the Consumed, who cast himself into a pit of fire to prove that he gained the Great Mantis's strong hierro. The stories told how Tesla laughed as the flames consumed him. It was as if he didn't even know what was happening and probably thought he was withstanding the flames even as he was being reduced to a charred corpse.

Motley came forward with a silver bell and rang it. The creatures below looked up in anticipation.

My darling Gibdo. My good Gibdo, he thought. My fierce darlings. You who inspire fear into my followers, rejoice. Rather than crushing the beast that is woman by purifying you into chattel, I bring it forth in all of its savage and vile bestiality. I have made you equal to true men, predatory and savage. You have ascended above the common cultured horde and have returned to the superior native, slaves to personal desire and passion.

"Now eat," he said with a smile as he dropped the corpse.

The Gibdo rushed upon it, tearing into its dead flesh. Some began to attack the others in order to protect their food. They were like the Eaters in this regard: they ate only Arrancar flesh from the moment they were reborn. For a moment he imagined throwing those who opposed him in the Council of Law into the pit. He knew that he would relish hearing the screams of those who called for doing away with the Third Rite completely and allowing women to be truly Children of the Mantis in accordance with the original Scriptures rather than the ones written after Tesla went insane.

He closed his eyes and imagined saving Mann for last. The fool who had once been the pride of the Sons, savage and ruthless in his raids, was now one of the loudest voices protesting the sacred customs with equal savagery and ruthlessness, like some ancient prophet. Mann wanted a return to the older ways, before the madness took Tesla's mind and brought him into enlightenment, and he dared spew that nonsense of how the Great Mantis feared Nelliel Tu Odelschwank to the point where he used deception to get rid of her. Yes, he would save Mann for last. He would kill all of his followers before him before he transformed him into a living work of art to serve as his amusement and as an example to anyone who dared to defy the Great Mantis's Will.

"Oh, the things I'll do to you," Delgado whispered under his breath.

The sound of cracking bone brought him out of his revelry and he returned his attention to the Gibdo down below. He counted them in the soft light and smiled. There were still seven.

He liked to keep the number of Gibdo low, but he hated to kill them. He had put too much time and energy into transforming them. Instead, when their numbers became too high for his liking he just stopped feeding them until they culled the weakest out of the pack.

"I am making another for the pack," Motley said. "A natural that I found in the Uterum. She fought off the others for a rat."

"Good," Delgado said and turned. "I'll leave you to your task, Motley. I'll inspect it when you've finished to see if you really get a grasp of it."

"I thank you, Son of Sons," she said and began to rub the crotch of his trousers. "If you want, I could pleasure you again in the way you like."

Delgado didn't respond as he took her hand from his stiffening member. It was tempting, but he could indulge later. He walked out of the secret room that housed the pit of his twisted soul. He closed the stone door and stroked Verde's lovely mane and his brow furrowed.

Perhaps I was a bit too hasty in my decision to execute the Nel. She could make a fine Gibdo since she proved so resourceful. She might even be good enough to replace the pack's current alpha. I'll have to know what she looks like so that I can use another in her place.

"And one day, perhaps very soon, I will make the real Nelliel into a work of art. Would you like that Verde? Would you like a playmate?"

Verde looked up at him and smiled. He stroked under her chin and she closed her eyes, relishing the feel.

Yes, someday, everything I desire will be mine. I am the strongest. I am the measure of all men. I am beyond good and evil and the morality of slaves. It's only just that my desires become reality, no matter how long it takes.

He smiled as he walked through chambers as dark and horrifying as his own mind. He was beyond good and evil, free to be a slave to his passions. His smile was the semi-innocent smile of the insane, as if consumed by the spirits of Caligula and Nero.

Carros

Carros felt rough hands rocking him out of sleep. His eyes slowly opened and he saw his father standing over him. His head ached from his latest drinking session and he found it difficult for his vision to focus.

"Dad…what is it? Did something happen?"

"I've been given orders. You're no longer a yearling, but a full grown Son of the Mantis. It's time for you to take up a Son's responsibilities rather than spending much of your time drinking."

"You mean…I'm to…I'm to actually go with you on a mission?"

Carros remembered how the prospect excited him, but now he only felt trepidation. His rite of passage still made him feel nauseous and he no longer told himself that he actually enjoyed it. He couldn't bring himself to lie to himself. He knew that the naïve pride and beliefs he had as a child were doomed to be destroyed by harsh reality. He wondered how many of the other Sons felt the same way, but kept it bottled up out of fear of becoming outcasts.

"That's right. Now get ready."

Carros got dressed and made his way to the main courtyard where his father waited with two other Arrancars who were clad in traditional white uniforms. He paused when he saw that they wore silver masks with wide grins and yellow crescents painted on their brows. A sense of fear paralyzed him where he stood. Everyone knew to be wary of the Manos de Teresa even in the best of times.

"Here," his father said and held out a silvery mask showing the same grinning face, but there was no crescent painted on its brow. "You're here to learn. You'll be granted the crescent when you've proven yourself worthy of it."

"Yes, father," Carros said and took the mask. He put it on over his face, aware of how it seemed to mold itself to fit over his natural mask fragment.

"The Octavians really outdid themselves with these things," one of the two said. He pointed to his own mask fragment that resembled a pair of goat horns. It looked as though whatever material the mask was made of had remolded itself to not interfere with the natural mask.

"When we take over their territories we'll have to keep a few of them around. And when we get bored of their techno babble we'll just feed them to their tanks."

Carros put his hand to the mask, feeling its cold and smooth surface. He hated it.

"A true Son is never ashamed or afraid to show his face to his enemies," the sacred Scriptures said. Yet here they were, hiding their faces.

"Alright, so we got the orders?"

"Yes," Carros's father said. "We're to go to Maluerta and purify the failed colony. We're to take their governor with us back to Tesla where he'll stand trial before the First Son."

One of the others whistled while the other only nodded. Carros felt a lump in his throat and he swallowed.

"Alright, let's head out. I want to get back to my drinking."

Grimmjow

"COME BACK HERE!" Grimmjow roared at the retreating chariots. He shot a cero at them, but their leader deflected it.

Grimmjow sighed and shook his head. One moment he was being rushed by a seemingly endless supply of low-ranking Arrancars and then the next no one bothered to go at him, but instead rush off to where the chariots were kept close to the gate. These Arrancars weren't worth the effort and so he stopped attacking after his pesquisa told him that the four Shinigami got out. He supposed that he could have destroyed their chariots, but where would the fun be in that?

"Fucking cowards," he snarled. He looked back at the burning structures and shrugged.

"Now what am I supposed to do?"

He supposed he could head south, but there was hardly anything out that way. Then he thought about the Shinigami telling him about the city they said was called Pantera. He smiled.

"Hmm, Pantera, eh… They might provide some amusement for me. If nothing else, it would be nice to have a Fracción again. Hopefully they won't be as disappointing as the last bunch."

With that Grimmjow turned his back on the burning colony of Maluerta and began his journey to Pantera.

Tatsuki

Tatsuki felt herself drift through darkness. The last thing she could remember was an Arrancar towering over her, preparing to kill her.

Am I dead? No, if I was dead then I wouldn't be asking myself that. I wouldn't be asking myself anything.

She sensed that she was being carried and then voices seemed to drift to her through the darkness as though through water. She couldn't make anything out at first. It was all muffled, like someone had stuffed cotton balls in her ears. She felt dizzy, almost as if she had the flu, and her head seemed to throb. Then she could make out some of the words.

"Are they following us?"

"Not yet."

What…? Who's there? What's…happening?

She slowly opened her eyes and saw sand beneath her. She realized that someone was carrying her, but she couldn't think of who. Did that hulking Arrancar have something else in mind other than killing her? She didn't know and she didn't want to know. She began to struggle.

"H-hey!" the person carrying her cried out. "What…what do you think you're doing?"

Tatsuki didn't register the voice.

"Let me go!" she snarled. "Let me go before I…"

She felt herself fall and hit the sand. She let out a gasp of surprise. The Arrancar grabbed her and pulled her up.

"Sheesh, is this the thanks I get for saving your ass?" Ikkaku snarled. "I risk my life for you and you try to kill me and now you're beating up on me. Tch…you're such an ingrate, Tatsuki Arisawa."

Tatsuki blinked. She looked and saw Hanataro and Nemu looking at her. Nemu was now clad in one of the guards' coats, which was big enough to serve as a makeshift dress. The sash tied around her waist held her zanapkuto. Hanataro looked back towards Maluerta nervous.

"I…I'm sorry. I thought…"

"Tch, never mind," Ikkaku said, though he was smiling. He handed her an Arrancar uniform and her zanpakuto. Tatsuki took them, grateful that she wouldn't have to go naked for the rest of the trip. "It's good to know you haven't become some cowering rabbit."

Tatsuki didn't know what to think about that. Yet she supposed he had a point. No matter what happened in the past it was more important to be in the now. And in the now they were not safe yet. Now was not the time to retreat in a sense of victimization and self-pity. Such things were meaningless in a crisis situation and could even become a hindrance to a person's ability to survive. Now was the time to get away.

"They're still not following us," Hanataro said.

"Yeah, but they'll come soon enough," Ikkaku said. "I just hope Grimmjow keeps them busy for a little longer. At least, give us enough time to get us far away."

"Wait…what? You…you met Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez?" Tatsuki asked as she buttoned the uniform's white coat. The collar nearly came up to the top of her ears. The sleeves almost covered her hands completely. She would have to cut the sleeves a bit when she got a chance.

"Yeah," IKkkaku said and snorted. "He's nothing special."

"Without him we probably wouldn't have been able to rescue you," Hanataro said.

"Yeah…whatever," Ikkaku said and looked at Tatsuki. "Alright, Commander, what do you think we should do now?"

Tatsuki looked at Ikkaku trying to decide if he was stupid or if he was smart enough to test her capacity to make quick decisions, regardless of trauma. She decided to kick him in the shin.

"HEY!" Ikkaku cried out.

"That's for asking such a stupid question." Then she embraced him. "That's for coming to save my ass."

"Uh…okay," Ikkaku said, dumb-founded.

Tatsuki's mind raced. She knew that they needed to run, but she wanted to make sure they had some idea of where to run. Running blindly would do them no good in their current situation. They needed some kind of plan and plans relied as much on location as on logistics. Sometimes the best laid strategies became obsolete with the slightest change of terrain.

"So, where are we?"

"I'm afraid we don't know," Hanataro said. "We don't know where we are since that town wasn't even on the map."

"So long as we're heading away from those nightmares I don't care," Tatsuki said.

"Yes, we are currently heading away from the Valley of Screams and those Arrancars," Nemu said.

"Alright in that case…" she began and stopped.

She thought she heard something beneath the natural sounds of the wind and shifting sands that sounded like pebbles being rubbed together. There was a rhythmic quality to it that didn't speak of anything natural.

"Look," Hanataro said and pointed.

In the distance there were arching lights rising into the night sky. Tatsuki didn't need to be told to know their source.

"Let's go," Tatsuki said.

They began to run. Tatsuki knew that it wouldn't take long for their pursuers to catch them if they were driving those chariots. If it came down to it she was prepared to fight to the death. There was no way she would allow herself to be taken back alive. Yet they had to try to find some way of escape.

"Yeah…" Ikkaku said and started running.

The four ran away from the flares of Reiatsu coming closer to them. The sound became louder to where they could now hear the rumbling sound of wheels on stone and the rhythmic beating of war drums and the rattling of bones. Soon they could hear voices shouting orders.

Tatsuki dared to look back and saw the Sons' chariots racing towards them. Each of the five metal-clad chariot was pulled by a team of hulking Arrancars clad in armor made from mask fragments and hardened sand. Sitting on the shoulders of the front Arrancars were smaller Arrancars carrying long hooked poles in one hand. The other hand was held out over the sands ahead, releasing trace amounts of Reiatsu to harden the sand into stone for the chariots' wheels to traverse.

The lead chariot had great yellow and crimson banners trailing behind it. She could see the large, bull-horned Arrancar gesturing to his fellow Arrancars. A line of ceros raced towards them. The ceros barely missed them, causing sand to erupt around them like geysers.

Oh snap, did Minotaur have a twin? The Dragon asked. Hey, maybe we can stick around and complete the collection then.

"RUN! FASTER! FASTER! GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR!" Tatsuki shouted.

They ran faster. Ahead they could see the sand begin to give way to a cracked hard surface. Small crystal-like trees sprouted among the cracks like weeds in a sidewalk. She looked around and wondered if they made a mistake coming this way rather than deeper into the sands. On this surface the chariots would have a much easier time of travelling, but the cracks could hinder them, especially the way the cracks appeared to widen further in.

"Tatsuki…are…you…sure…about…this?" Ikkaku panted. He looked behind them, his eyes wide. "Fuck…this…shit…"

Tatsuki hoped that the terrain would change to their advantage and ahead she saw that it did. The cracks did not dissipate, but became wider and the surface itself began to develop ripples. Here and there were sink holes. Parts of the landscape rose sharply from the ground as if this place had seen a great geological cataclysm. Many of the layers of Hueco Mundo's geological history lay bare here. Moonlight shone against veins of turquoise colored metal, creating a ghostly glow.

Here and there the crystal like barren trees protruded from the cracked earth, looking like reaching skeletal hands.

It was a Geologist's paradise.

Yet, more importantly for Tatsuki, this was an ideal place to escape. All that they need was to find an escape hatch. Then, she saw it.

"Left!" she called.

Another round of ceros barely missed them, hitting the ragged terrain. The clattering of wheels began to slow and she thought she heard one of the chariots crash into something. There were shouts and the sounds of Arrancars scrambling to get their hulking brutes unleashed from the chariots. Tatsuki smiled.

"Tatsuki…what…?" Ikkaku began and then fell silent as Tatsuki came to a halt.

Before them was a deep and wide sink hole, about fifty feet across. The edges and walls were jagged, providing natural foot and hand holds as well as small platforms. Deep below Tatsesuki could make out silvery sand sloping further down and in. Limbs of the crystal-like trees protruded from various areas down the sinkhole.

"No…no way," Hanataro moaned.

"We don't have much of a choice," Tatsuki said.

"NO!" a voice roared behind them.

They turned and saw the large, bull-horned Arrancar staring at them, his eyes wide with terror. A small group of the raiders stood beside him, looking among the rocks as if afraid.

"NO! NO! NO!"

"GO!" Tatsuki cried. "DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!"

They began their descent.

Ridgeback

"NO! NO! NO! NO!" Kahn Ridgeback cried as he saw his quarry begin to climb down the sink hole.

He rushed towards the sink hole. Only three of his raiders followed while the others held back, staring at the crystal like skeletal trees protruding from the earth. Further ahead the singular trees began to cluster together until they formed the great Forest of Lost Bones. It was one of the places that even the Sons and Panterans avoided.

He stopped at the edge and swallowed hard before looking down, his face pale. He watched the four figures climbing down, their path made easy by the protruding rocks and tree branches. He wanted to fire a cero at them and he knew he had a perfect shot. Yet he didn't dare.

"Sir, what should we do?" one of the raiders asked.

"They…they…" He put a hand to his forehead and smiled.

"Sir?"

"Let them be," he said. "The Underworld shall have its due."

"But sir, what about…?"

Ridgeback turned. He had to be stern. He couldn't let his fear show.

"Let The Others have them."

Tatsuki

They reached a pocket of rock and branches nearly halfway in their descent. It made a perfect place to rest for a bit. Tatsuki couldn't hear anything from their pursuers and that was good. They were too exhausted to fight in their current position, plus their opponent would only have to throw rocks down on them or fire ceros from above to wipe them out.

Yet no attack came.

"Are they still there?" Hanataro asked.

Nemu protruded her head from their little shelter. "Negative," she replied. "I do not see any of the hostiles."

"Oh…good," Ikkaku said as he leaned back to the rock wall.

"What do you think?" Nemu asked. "Should we continue our descent or return to the surface? It is likely that they have long since departed."

Tatsuki thought about it.

"Well, there's no guarantee that they did leave," she said. "The landscape above has a lot of opportune positions for an ambush. Yet, if we go down it could all prove to be a dead end."

"Well, what if it doesn't?" Ikkaku asked. "Didn't the reports say something about there being some vast underground forest or something?"

"That was closer to Las Noches," Nemu replied.

"True, and there's no guarantee that the same is true in other locations. Still, the report…" Tatsuki whispered. "I think it's worth a shot. If the report that Ando left and what the Panterans told us about are to be believed, it's possible that there are many ways in and out of this underground forest."

"So…we descend," Hanataro said.

Tatsuki nodded.

"Alright, let's go," Ikkaku said. "Time's wasting."

And so they descended into The Underworld.

End Chapter 13

A.N.: It's been a while, but the next chapter has finally been released. It was a rough chapter to write, but mostly because of real life stuff like work (got to pay the bills somehow).

This chapter was somewhat difficult to execute as action scenes are not one of my strong suits and there were points where the words just didn't want to come. I thank my co-author Eduard Kassel for his patience in waiting updates from me.

I also wanted to make sure that The Sons weren't merely dismissed as a group of mustache-twirling villains, but rather as a group that, like other clans, sank into their own version of decay since social decay is a major theme of this work. As a result Kahn Ridgeback came into being. He knows his failings, but he does not see a way out except to just carry on. The Primerans sank into the decay of apathy. The Octavians sank into the decay of vanity. The Triples sank into the decay of complacency.

Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to release.

The title for this chapter is from the song "Become the Beast" by Karliene. I felt that the lyrics and melody for the song really fit with the tone of this chapter, especially with Tatsuki.

Soundtrack (Volume 2):

"Mutiny (feat. Crazy Vocal)" by Think Up Anger

"Human" by Of Monsters and Men

"Control" by Halsey

"Blumenkranz" by Sapphire

"Torn" by Nathan Lanier

"Burn" by Papa Roach

"Jingo Jungle" by MYTH & ROID

"Sonne" by Rammstein

"Blood Bag (Extended Version)" by Junkie XL

"Silent Solitude" by OxT