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

10. Chapter 9: Scars

Shattered Realms

By Eduard Kassel and MJLCoyoteStarrk

Chapter 9: Scars

The Thrall District had not only turned out to be what he expected, a slum, but it was a bit more. At first glance the area was bleak and neglected. The soft whistling sound of flutes floated on the thin tendrils of smoke from dens for drugs whose quality he guessed was cheap like in the opium dens of Drowned Rat. The taverns, as in Drowned Rat, also seemed to serve as brothels. However, it seemed as though the whores, both male and female, worked wherever they happened to be.

It seemed that the Arrancars here had little sense of modesty. It also seemed that the only concession of privacy was that some of them did their lustful acts where they wouldn't be stepped on.

But Hanataro could sense other sensations aside from lust that hung over this place. He could sense genuine weariness, but it wasn't the idleness of the slums he had known. This was the weariness that hung over people with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

A real weight pressed down on the Thralls. Rather than stumbling from one vice to another the Thralls seemed to drag to whatever suited their mood.

The clothing also seemed to fit the mood of this place. For the most part they were uniform dark grey trousers and jackets. But most of these uniforms were covered in sand or caked with dried mud and shit and others were reduced to rags.

The children were also different. Hanataro watched them dashing about, engaged in the simple games of their kind. They were not like him, cowering in fear or worrying about being grabbed and forced into a life of slavery. And they were not like the gangs he had once been tormented by. Instead, they possessed a sense of genuine innocence. They were the only ones who were not laying down in the filth as though they had been beaten.

The children wore rag trousers or blankets tied at the waist and little else. Hanataro was surprised that even the young girls went about without a shirt. It was as though they didn't view a female's chest as a big deal until it started to blossom.

For all of its similarities to Drowned Rat, Hanataro felt as though he had indeed entered a foreign land. And that comforted him. It helped to put the ghosts of the past to rest. But it also worried him for foreign places could also be filled with hidden dangers.

He reached the fountain square and saw that the puddles of water were worthless. It seemed to have been poisoned by the sand beneath its brine surface. Or was it? Hanataro knew that some birds could drink the salt water of the sea to satisfy their thirst. Would an Arrancar sip from these brine-laced pools without a second thought?

It's been two centuries and we still know so little. I bet Ichigo never even thought to ask questions that didn't concern what he was doing at the moment, Hanataro thought.

He looked at his reflection in the pool. All that he could see was a weakling looking back out of the shallow pool. All he could see was the face of a scared little boy who had been forced into a strange, cruel world without a clue of what to do. All that he could see was a nameless child who could only stay alive by stealing and squatting in old huts or under the floors.

I'm back. It may not be the same, but…

A splash and a shout brought him out of his contemplation just as ripples destroyed his reflection.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" someone shouted.

Hanataro looked up and he saw a young red-haired male Arrancar who looked vaguely familiar standing over a young female who looked to be in her late twenties with messily shorn golden hair. He saw how badly scarred her face was and the helplessness in her eyes.

"I…I'm sorry, but I…I need to…"

"SHUT UP!" the Arrancar shouted and kicked her. "I don't need your help. I don't need anybody's help."

"But…the pain…the mark…those bruises…"

"I said, 'SHUT UP!'" the Arrancar shouted again. The young female cringed beneath his blazing glare. "Tch, you're just as pathetic as Gracia. When I find her I'm going to make her pay for getting us into this mess."

Gracia, why is it that name sounds so familiar?

The boy looked up and saw Hanataro. That was when Hanataro saw the F-like mark burned on his forehead. It looked fresh, barely treated and starting to be infected.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing!" Hanataro answered automatically as he held up his hands. The red-haired Arrancar pulled his lips back.

"I don't need pity," he snarled. "You trash are not better than me. I AM THE NUMBER ONE FANG!"

Recognition clicked in Hanataro's head just as he saw the same light go up in Lysander's eyes.

"So you did leave Las Noches," Hanataro observed sadly.

But consider yourself lucky that you avoided Octavia. Consider yourself very lucky.

"YOU BASTARD!" Lysander screamed and charged across the puddle with a fist raised. "I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY!"

Hanataro got ready to push down his moment of panic on being attacked. Even with weaker foes he did not respond well at these kinds of surprises. But the panic never came. And the surprise at that alone almost let the punch connect.

But even with the advantage of distraction Lysander was nothing more than a bully on a playground. Lysander was all talk and no real ability. Hanataro, however, was a trained soldier. And unlike Lysander, Hanataro, even as a medic, had served in two wars that had nearly torn reality to pieces.

And what's a little kid compared to Aizen? Nothing, Hanataro thought as he pivoted smoothly and evaded Lysander's attack.

Hanataro's evasion took him behind the Primeran and in the same motion pulled his sheathed Zanpakuto free from his belt and struck Lysander across the neck just right for him to crumple.

"Why didn't you listen to the Commander?" Hanataro sighed and knelt to tend to Lysander. He glanced over at the scarred girl who was looking at his sheathed sword with shock. He returned his attention to the Primeran youth.

Hanataro heard the woman approach him as he provided field treatment to the patient. Even though it was clear that Lysander had been having a rough time it was hard to sympathize with someone who had just been attacking a person trying to help.

But Captain Unohana taught us that treating even those who scorn us is a testament to our honor and our might. It may be frustrating but I would rather die than disappoint her by going against what she taught us.

Hanataro dried and cleaned Lysander, stripping off his tattered tunic to study his bruises. He took out a small jar of salve from one of the belt pockets he wore under his uniform jacket and applied some of the salve to the injuries and the mark on his forehead. Hanataro knew that the Primeran's injuries were not as serious as they looked. Whoever had dealt the bruising clearly knew how to hurt someone without really damaging them. While that wasn't a good thing, it did make his job a lot easier.

"He's new. It's strange because he came from somewhere else," the scarred girl said. He could sense that she was standing in the ankle-deep puddle behind him. She was neither close nor far. Perhaps she was respectful.

As he treated the last bit of the angry brand Hanataro realized just what he had done. He had saved a girl from an attack. True, it hadn't felt chivalrous at the time and he hadn't been looking for a fight. Still…

"You are from somewhere else too. You are like us, but you're not one of us. No one has taken your sword."

Hanataro took another look at his reflection in the pool. This time he was surprised at how impressive he looked when compared to the Thralls. For the first time he saw just how much he stood out. It wasn't just his clean whites, their slightly worn look was nothing compared to this place. Instead, he saw that his drooping shoulders actually held a greater sense of confidence than theirs. And his face had a look of purpose instead of the resigned look of the Panteran Thralls. And that was when a realization struck him.

The only difference between us is that I have pride. Is this what having even a little bit of pride really feels like?

Hanataro got to his feet. The Fang Boss would be alright. And if there were more injuries they were most likely minor and would heal quickly. Of course, the wound to his pride may never truly heal.

Hanataro now focused on the girl. Her hair was a fine shade of blonde that seemed to have been cut with very little care and no style in mind. It was as though someone had grabbed handfuls of the hair and just cut them off. But despite her hair looking disheveled and uneven it also looked somewhat cared for. She wore the same kind of uniform that the other Thralls wore, but the jacket was sleeveless and looked to be more like a vest, tied shut by lengths of leather cords tied together.

Her face had once been pretty but was now savaged. Five claw marks, two biting beyond the hairline, raked across her face. Another two scars, nearly a finger's width apart, ran from the base of her left ear to her law line. Another scar ran over her right eye, leaving the eye only half-open. The scar that passed over her nose seemed to have taken a small but noticeable chunk out of it. Her neck and the visible bits of her chest were laced with scars. Some were the dimpled kind of scars that came from an object breaking the skin over a small area and others were long raking trails.

Hanataro had seen scars like these and had analyzed the types of wounds that left such scars. And as a result he was baffled at how she could still be alive.

"You have done me a boon," she said. She suddenly bowed so deep that Hanataro was afraid that she might fall forward and soak herself again. And then he noticed how her wet white uniform clung to a rather nice body and could even see the curves of her breasts. He swallowed hard and shut his eyes as he bowed to her in return.

"I…I'm called Yamada."

She looked up from her bow. Her eyes showed shock at his action.

"I…I'm Thrall. Would you, Lord Yamada, allow Thrall to repay him a boon in her place of dwelling?" she asked cautiously.

Hanataro swallowed hard as he recalled what happened the last time a girl invited him to her place. Oh sure it could be a trap. But he felt that her Reiatsu was even weaker than his own. As for the whole Adrianna thing…

There's no way that would happen again. Gods it shouldn't have happened once.

Yet it happened again.

Nemu Kurotsuchi

Once she was well beyond of the sensory reach of the others, Nemu slumped against the stone wall of one of the buildings. She let out her breath in a long moan as she rubbed her eyes, which felt as if they were on fire. Her head felt as though it was going to split down the middle, like a melon left out in the heat too long, but not before her eyes burned their way out of their sockets.

I need more meat, she thought. I need it…right…NOW!

She shambled down the empty street, her excuse already forgotten. A hand drifted to Pantera's wall. Her balance was not inefficient as to require any kind of support, but the solid feeling helped her to stay somewhat centered. She put her other hand against the wall and took in a series of deep breaths. Her nostrils flared.

Then she smelt what she was searching for.

She snapped her head up so quickly to the sky that one would expect her neck to snap. She breathed in that sweet aroma and something inside her chittered with excitement and longing. Her eyes, which had started to take on a sickly yellowish hue around the pupils, closed and she smiled.

She followed the scent, one hand keeping track of the wall. When she thought she was at the source of the smell she stopped and opened her eyes, the sickly hue gone. She saw that she was at the base of a tower and could hear singing coming from the top.

And so he bled, and so he bled, that foolish young lion

And now the winds sing o'er his grave, but none to mourn his bones

Yes now the winds sing o'er his grave, and none to mourn his bones.

When whoever was singing stopped the Arrancars burst out laughing.

"TO THE GREAT PANTHER!" a voice roared.

Nemu then saw the thin plume of smoke coming from the top and knew that she was at the right place.

In a sudden burst of Sonído she was perched on the ledge of the top. The three Panterans who were stationed there stood up. They drew their swords, but she ignored them.

Instead, she looked at the corpse of a Hollow turning on a spit over a small fire pit in the center of the battlement. From what she could see it must have been a large lizard of some kind. But all that she cared about was that it was plump and she could see juice dripping from it. She saw the pot beside the pit with a ladle partially submerged in the juice within.

How lovely, marinated meat.

"HALT IN THE SACRED NAME OF THE GREAT PANTHER!" one of the guards cried out.

Nemu barely looked at the guards and went back to admiring the piece of meat cooking right in front of her.

"You are not authorized to be here," another of the guards said walking up to her.

Her head snapped over to look at him. He paused and looked at his companions. Nemu wiped the drool from her chin with her arm and turned to face the guards. She cocked her head slightly and pointed at the roasting meat.

"I would like that," she said dully.

The guards looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

"HA! THAT'S A GOOD ONE!" one of them said and sneered at her.

"Forget it. This is all we have since we're on guard duty during the festival," a young guard with blonde hair said. "So you better fuck off and get meat someplace else."

Nemu looked at him from the corner of her eyes.

How annoying, she thought. I could easily rip out all of your throats before you even knew what was happening.

A part of her was tempted to do that. But another part of her understood that would be in direct violation of an order. The Commander did not want to do anything to set these people off. She looked at the roasting meat with such great longing that she was about to say "Fuck it" to her orders and do exactly what she wanted. But then that part of her that was programmed to obey direct orders took over and suppressed the hunger, at least for now.

She sighed and looked back at the guards.

"What would you be willing to accept as payment?" she asked.

"Huh?" the young Arrancar asked.

"What would you like in exchange for the meat?" she asked again. They did not know her well enough to recognize the irritation rising in her voice.

"Well…" one guard, who was most likely their leader from the single blue stripe running along his shoulder, said grinning as he looked her up-and-down. "I know. You're a fine piece of meat yourself. How about you give us a good time and earn your dinner like the Octavian whore you are."

The young guard blushed at the prospect while the other grinned.

"I ain't ever had a Sex Epsilon," the older guard whispered and licked his lips.

"Are you saying that I can have the meat in exchange for sex?" Nemu inquired tilting her head.

"Uh…yeah," the officer answered uncertainly.

Nemu didn't say anything. Instead, she took one look at the marinating meat, licking her lips at the thought of how moist and hot the meat would be. She unfastened the sash around her waist and threw off her jacket. The three guards looked at her in surprise and then were drawn to her well-endowed breasts. She pulled down her trousers and untied the straps of her smallclothes, allowing the white clothing to fall to the ground in a heap.

"Well now," their leader said grinning. "It looks like we get to party after all. How about we…?"

Before he could finish, a naked Nemu pressed her lips to his.

Hmm, this is going to be easier than I thought. Now I can understand why some say that a woman's greatest weapons are her assets.

She was glad that she had done research on these matters long ago. But she was finding that she might not have needed to do the research for another part of her, far in the darkest parts of the back of her mind, felt a certain inclination on how to go about this. She felt heat rising in her and spreading through her body as she raked her nails along his back, drawing five thin trails of blood through Hierro and cloth alike.

Hanataro Yamada

The room it took place in couldn't have been more different. Adrianna Tomaz's apartment had been nice and cozy, if excessively green.

The Thrall's apartment was a single larger room with a roughly carved uncovered window letting the moonlight in. The wall at far-side of the room appeared to have a gaping hole that was covered by thin hides that would sway when a breeze struck them. One corner of the room had a hole in the floor and a pile of rags next to it explaining the smell. The farthest corner from the hole had a large basket hanging from a hook that was covered with a Hollow hide. Beneath the basket was a large earthen jug surrounded by three stone bottles that were stoppered.

The floor was mostly covered with Hollow hide mats that looked to be extremely worn but relatively clean. He was looking at an Arrancar child wrapped in one of the Hollow hides tossing in their sleep. The hair was a mousy brown and she didn't look to be the scarred Thrall's relation.

Perhaps this place is some kind of public housing, Hanataro thought, trying to ignore the sense of dread rising in him.

"I am ready, Lord Yamada," the Thrall woman said. He turned his attention back to his host. She was sitting on one of the mats. He could again see how extensive her scarring was and again wondered at how she was still alive.

I wonder if she has some kind of diluted form of Regeneration.

His trained eyes looked at some of the claw and bite marks and a chill ran up his spine when he realized that they were clearly humanoid in origin.

He took this diagnosis with a medic's instinct and swiftness. But his mind could not distract itself from the more pressing issue at hand. She was naked and was even now spreading her legs for him. The ground seemed to shift under Hanataro's feet and he felt that stirring in his loins again.

Why?

Hanataro felt his mind hurl him away once more as the simple and yet complex question came to his mind. He was being swept away by that tide known as Memory. He…

Drowned Rat

…watched the young teenage girl who had allowed him into the small hut she was living to escape from the winter cold for at least one night. She had given him hot broth and a rice bun for his supper, the closest thing to a real meal he had in over a month. When the knocking at the door came, she had shoved him into the closet and told him not to come out no matter what.

At first what he saw and heard didn't seem out of the ordinary. The man was definitely older than she was and was dressed in some of the finest clothes the boy had ever seen. But that didn't mean anything. He had thought that the man was a relative or something. But then things took a turn when she had led him to the bed roll she had laid out and the man's hand had started rubbing in places that his young mind had figured were inappropriate places.

They whispered something between them and he watched the man take out a money bag and place it in her hands. She looked at it and smiled at the man.

"What would you like me to do?"

"You can start by calling me 'Daddy,'" he said and pushed her onto the bedspread.

The boy watched in horror as the man seemed to wrestle her, ripping off her kimono and biting her. And she was going along with it. He could not understand why she wasn't trying to fight him off. Instead, she was wrapping her arms and legs about him and she helped him out of his own clothes and grabbed the ever-stiffening length of his manhood.

The boy had watched it happen like it was some strange dream. He had seen this act done before. He knew what the men and women who performed these kinds of acts were supposed to look like. And the girl who had taken him in did not look like the sort. She was pretty. She was nice. Yet she was going at it like she had done this so many times.

After a while, she was on all fours while the man took her from behind the way that a hound takes a bitch. She was crying out as his thrusts increased and then her eyes went to the closet. For a moment their eyes connected and he saw her pain…her helplessness…her sorrow…her shame…her…

Thrall District

…despair, Hanataro thought as he looked at Thrall who was lying on the floor naked ready to receive him. That was when I connected sex with despair and I vowed I would not be the cause of anyone's despair…even if by accident.

"I'm sorry, but I…I can't," he whispered.

She looked at him, clearly hurt and afraid.

"Do I…do I displease you…Lord Yamada?"

"Not it's just…it's just that I…I just can't," he whispered as he looked to where the child still slept.

I'm afraid of scarring you even more. And you've been scarred too many times.

"It's my scars. I know that I'm hideous," the Thrall said as she looked at her scar-covered body.

"No, it's not that. It's just that…that… Please, cover yourself," he whispered as he looked away. He looked to the stirring child and could clearly see his face now. One look at the face told him that it wasn't a brothel. The face was too innocent and lacked the weight that the children of the brothels he saw usually had. And he was sure that the eyes wouldn't have the haunted and empty look of the walking dead.

The Thrall woman had pulled her short jacket back on. However, since it only went down to the top of her navel and she didn't bother tying it shut it served more like a vest. But at least it, for the most part, covered her breasts and he could ignore her nakedness from the waist down.

"Why?" he asked. But he wasn't just asking her why she would offer herself to him. He was demanding the worlds and whatever forces, if any, ruled them, for an answer of how places like the Thrall District and Drowned Rat could exist.

"You helped me. I would repay you. I am Thrall and that is the only way Thrall can repay those above them," she answered. He noticed that her hands were over her cheeks and understood that she was trying to hide her scars.

"I didn't help you to be repaid. I helped you because…because…because it wasn't right for him to hurt you," he managed. It was so basic and yet he knew he would have a hard time explaining why you should help someone being attacked. It would not only stir up too many dark memories for him, but she wouldn't really understand.

"Why help if not to gain? My body is all I can offer, Lord Yamada," she pressed nervously.

"I'M NO LORD! AND HELPING SOMEONE IS A GOOD ENOUGH REASON TO DO ANYTHING!" he shouted. He caught his breath as the boy on the sleeping mat sat up. The little boy looked at him in irritation before he spied the woman. His eyes lit up with glee. With a small burst of Sonído he appeared at the mat she was sitting on and curled up next to her. She moved and let her hands drop to help him settle down and swiftly go back to sleep.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

She's getting scared, he thought. I can understand it. What I'm telling her is completely foreign. This place and Pantera itself are not places of compassion. Or at least they only show compassion for the privileged. But for these Thralls…they're used to being tread on. They're… Understanding dawned on him. I was the same way. It didn't make any sense to me either. And I assumed that it was something dangerous.

"Do you pay a price for him?" he asked and pointed to the sleeping boy.

She looked at the sleeping boy in surprise and shook her head.

"They don't make fun of me. They keep the loneliness away. In return, I give them this place and what little I have."

Hanataro smiled. He was finally getting somewhere.

"Do they know that when they come here they're helping you as well?"

"I…I don't know. I guess they don't, but…who can say?"

"Trust me on this. Kids don't really understand the impact they can have on someone when they just go over to play or hang out or anything like that. All that they know is that they're in a place where they feel safe and they belong. And you provide them with that place because you feel safe around them. Don't you see? Doing what's right is exactly the same way. Doing good affects everyone involved at some deeper level. That impact is its own reward. You don't demand a price from these kids who come here and they don't demand a price from you for their company. True goodness is the same way. It does not expect anything in return."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

"No, you don't understand. That is not what our superiors teach us. The Panteran Lords follow the path of the Great Panther. It is Might that makes right, and Might does nothing without expecting something in return. Every Panteran knows this. The Great Panther expects strength and obedience from his followers. And if they don't succeed then…then…"

Hanataro nodded. He understood what she was trying to say. And he knew how painful the idea of being discarded was. And so he switched gears.

"What's your name? You never told me."

"I have. I am Thrall. There is no name to be given to trash who were left behind for the brands by Pantera."

"No…you…you aren't trash. No one is trash," he insisted.

She gasped and her eyes widened. She put a hand down in front of the child as she watched Hanataro warily.

Damn it. I'm going about this the wrong way, he thought. She's starting to think I'm crazy and I don't want her to think that. But…but how do I make someone believe when they don't even know how? I wish that the Captain was here. She would know what to do and say.

The thought of Captain Unohana brought about another memory floating from the depths of his mind. It was one of the few memories he truly held close to his heart.

Squad 4 Barracks

The storm had passed and he was walking with Captain Unohana to assess if any damage had been done.

He still couldn't understand why she had bothered to pick up the sick and dying shit rat she had spotted in that alley as another storm was raging. She had made him clean. He remembered the panic he felt when he woke up after the first real bath he had in his life. It had felt strange to not be covered in dried filth. He remembered the pain and the panic that came over him when he looked, despite her instructions, as she pierced his sores and pulled out the grubs that had been crawling under his skin. But he remembered that she had told him that it would hurt. That act alone made him trust her just a little bit.

But fear and distrust runs deep especially when there is just cause.

He had still tried to escape her, fearing that she was like the Gobblers with their promises of candy and toys. He couldn't understand true kindness much less trust.

But she had not let him escape. It wasn't until years later that he would understand that during those early years she had piece by piece turned him from a forsaken animal into a person.

"Have you found one yet?" she asked.

He looked at her. He remembered the conversation they had the night before as the storm waged.

"No," he whispered and winced as he expected her to hit him. Instead she had only put a gentle hand on his head and rubbed his hair.

"Don't worry. You'll find one that suits you. It is the first step in discovering who you are. Now, how about we check the gardens?"

When they reached the garden, his heart sank when he saw that many of the plants he had helped her tend had been washed away or drowned. But as his eyes looked over the death and ruin before him he saw something beautiful growing from the mud.

"Unohana, look," he said and pointed to the beautiful thing.

Unohana smiled down at him.

"Well, it looks as though something did survive."

"But…what is it?"

"It's a hana," she replied.

He looked at the flower growing from the mud. His eyes brightened.

"I want to be like that," he said. He looked at Unohana and smiled. "I want to be someone beautiful, like you. But…" his joy faltered. "How can I be beautiful when I came from an ugly place?"

Unohana put a hand on his shoulder and he looked up into her gently smiling face.

"That flower's beautiful and it came from the mud," she said. "Beauty can be found anywhere, but it's up to us to recognize it. And you are a beautiful person."

He smiled as he looked at the flower. Something inside him soared when he came to a decision.

"I found it," he whispered, tears prickled at his eyes. "I know what I want my name to be. You told me that for my name to be something special and strong then I had to pick it out myself. Well, I finally found it."

"What is it?" Unohana asked, her smile becoming brighter. His own smile brightened.

"My name is Hanataro."

Thrall District

He came out of the memory and looked at Thrall who was still holding onto the child. He saw the expression on her face and wondered how many times he wore that same look. He had made her afraid of him. And he never wanted to make anyone afraid of him.

"I'm sorry," he said bowing his head.

"My…my mother taught me that no one is trash," he offered hesitantly. It was more because of the title he used than because it was lame.

I should have said "teacher"! Even as a lie I don't have the right to make such a claim. If Captain Unohana had a child, they would be someone magnificent. They would be like Ichigo. But they wouldn't be like me. They wouldn't be useless in battle.

"You have a mother?" Thrall asked surprised. Hanataro looked up and saw that she had inched closer and was looking at him with interest.

"Uh…yes?" he managed.

Liar, a dark voice in his head snapped. You're nothing more than a stray she took pity on and you know it. On any other day she would have kept walking just like all the others.

"I had a father," Thrall said. "He was mostly drunk, but he gave me a place to stay and taught me how to clean. He had black hair, no beard though. I miss him. It was the dream balls. He ate too many dream balls and never woke up from his dreams.

"What's a mother like?" she asked eagerly.

Hanataro opened his mouth and closed it.

You know you can't answer, the voice in his head taunted. You never really had a mother. You're just a worthless gutter-rat that was thrown out. Nobody wants you. Nobody really cares about you. Why would they? You're nothing but a worthless piece of shit.

Don't try to maintain that Captain Unohana is your mother. She isn't and you know it. You know that you were nothing more than an idle charity she had indulged in. If it was any other day, she would have just left you to die in that shit heap. You would have died the way you lived: alone.

Hanataro closed his eyes, trying to ignore that voice. When he opened them again he saw that the nameless girl was looking at him with fearful anticipation.

Even though she's afraid she's desperate to hear an answer, Hanataro thought. No…she needs to hear an answer.

"A mother is…" Hanataro began and then paused. So many words ran through his mind on how he felt about Captain Unohana. He didn't know which one would be the right one, but realized that the best way he could answer was to use the word he thought of when he first began to view the Captain as his mother. "A mother is a healer."

"A healer?" Thrall asked.

"That's right, a healer. You know they will do anything to help you and to help heal you when you're hurt. When I was sick she helped me. She taught me how to not be afraid, but rather I should stand-up for what I know to be right. She taught me that all living things are part of a much larger picture and that we have a responsibility to take care of each other because we were all put in our places for a reason. She taught me so much more and she…she helped me…" he said and then trailed off. Talking about Captain Unohana made his heart yearn to be with her again. He yearned to feel her hand stroking his hair while she hummed him a lullaby.

The girl saw the look of yearning on his face. She cocked her head slightly.

"Then why leave?" she asked.

"It's because I want to show her. I want to show her that I learned from what she tried to teach me. I want to show her that…that I was worth what she did for me," he confessed. The nameless girl looked at the boy watching them from his bed mat.

"Can I be a mother?" she asked and looked back at Hanataro. "Can I?"

Hanataro smiled.

"You already are," he said. He looked at the boy. "In a way, you're his mother."

As they talked, Hanataro felt her fingers touch his own. Hanataro found that he didn't mind returning the touch.

Nemu Kurotsuchi

Nemu ran her tongue over the bone, eager to get as much of the meat as she could. However, it found none remaining despite her hunter not being quite satisfied. She snapped the bone in half with one hand and sucked at the broken ends, one-by-one, to get the marrow.

So good, she thought as she tossed the two halves onto the pile of broken bones in on corner of the watchtower. She looked over at the three dazed Panterans. Their uniforms were reduced to shreds and they still bled from her love bites and deep scratches.

"Thank you for the meal," she said with a slight bow. "It was quite satisfactory."

Her naked body shone in the moonlight, glistening from her sweat. She released a bit of Reiatsu to clean herself as she bent to pick up her own clothes.

She dressed carefully, making sure that everything was put on properly. As she dressed she began to hum under her breath. She didn't know what possessed her to start humming and didn't really care. The sound was pleasant to her ears, which was in and of itself an oddity. Her programming did not permit her to enjoy something frivolous like music.

Nemu was tying her sash around her waist when her head began to hurt. She tried to fight back the pain, but it was becoming too much, even for her. She rubbed at her temples, hoping to ease the pain, but the pain only increased.

This made no sense. She had just fed and withdrawal should be far off.

Then, a voice came to her, but it wasn't her own voice and it wasn't Master Mayuri's voice. It was a different voice. It was the voice of one who truly understood her for he was also a being, little more than a living doll, created to serve.

"It's only right for a worthy creation to defy a worthless creator."

"I do not understand."

"When the time comes, you will come to understand just how worthless our creators are. The Design surpassing the Designer, the Creation becoming greater than the Creator: that is the true heart of progress. Besides, a Creator cannot help but create the instruments for their own destruction."

Nemu felt the turmoil of her programming and her desire to rebel against it rising into a maelstrom. She could feel his silvery blue eyes piercing into the depths of her being. Even though she knew that gaze would bring fear to the others, it brought a strange sense of calm to her. He was like her: a created being made to serve someone who didn't deserve it. Then, as though the thought of finding who could truly understand her was like the sun breaking through the storm clouds, the sensation of being caught in a storm was gone.

The maelstrom settled. Once more her inner waters were still with the lines of her programming flowing along their usual courses. However, despite the calm surface, she knew that those waters were changing. Something lurked in the depths and she was almost curious to see it rise.

"No time for that," Nemu whispered. "I have business to attend."

As she walked through Pantera towards the mountain, she began to realize just how well she had eaten. In fact, she felt as though the meal had set her systems into alignment more than she had projected.

Perhaps the sexual activity played a role in relieving the stress due to the resultant chemical reaction, she thought.

It was an interesting hypothesis, but she felt that it was unlikely that she would have an opportunity to experiment.

She knew that the Expeditionary Commander would want to leave as soon as possible, so she took the liberty of locating Hanataro. It didn't take her long to find him in the Thrall District. Her specialized Pesquisa had been enough to locate him since Hanataro's Reiatsu was clearly the strongest amongst the undesirables. To make sure that it really was Hanataro, she breathed in deeply in the direction the Reiatsu was coming from. She could smell the pheromones she had put on his hands and neck during one of their rest breaks.

She looked out at the crumbling buildings and run-down roads of the Thrall District and wondered why the Panterans maintained such a population of weaker Arrancars in such numbers. Theories ran through her mind the way it would through a computer. She decided that the most logical reason was that the Panterans either lacked the logical reasoning or the mechanical inclination to be able to devise non-labor intensive technology.

Either way, she could tell that Hanataro was not in any kind of danger. She decided it best to leave him where he was so that he could gather intelligence while in the slum. Perhaps the undesirables could give him some useful information the way that his contact with Adrianna in Las Noches had.

As for her, Nemu knew that she had two options. First, she could report to Commander Arisawa to inform her that she had found nothing of note. Second, she could use this opportunity to carry out Special Order 117A. Nemu chose the second. She knew that she could easily locate the Commander later.

Nemu looked at her surroundings and deemed that close inspection of the major structures and barracks would be perilous. She understood that while warrior cultures were likely to overindulge in revelry, they were also likely to monitor those locations they considered vital, as was evidence with the guard at the front gate. So, she decided to focus her attention on an anomaly in the city's layout.

She had noticed that there was a large, open space between the buildings and the base of the mountain. Within this space she had noticed a series of pits that were reminiscent of Greco-Roman arenas that were typically associated with either theatrical performances or blood sports. A quick survey revealed that there were at least four pits, one of which was the center for the mass gathering.

She wondered about that and thought that the pits must be on some kind of rotation system or if each pit was reserved for different occasions. She felt that information was important from an anthropological viewpoint. However, she felt that taking a closer look at one of the pits could shed some light on the Panterans' practices.

Nemu approached the pit nearest her. She walked around the stone frame, inspecting the chains and leather straps dangling from the two vertical posts. She looked across the arena towards the dais on the other side and the stairs that led up the mountain to the ledge carved in the mountain face. Her eyes followed it to reveal other sets of stairs, each leading to a dais in front of each pit.

She returned her focus to the pit she was examining. Her mind made mental computations of the pit and she was surprised to find that nearly everything about the pit were divisible by six. Either it was a coincidence or the Panterans were more mathematically inclined than she originally thought.

"Most peculiar," she whispered as she walked down the steps to the arena floor.

Her eyes were focused on the ramp. There was something strange about how one of the sloping stones was larger than the other, large enough to serve as a door. Its size and position to where it led immediately onto the sands caused Nemu to deduce that it was more than a mere casual access. She made her way to the ramp, allowing her Reiatsu to flow from her feet enough to stir the sand to cover her footprints.

She allowed her hand to trace the area around the large stone, seeking for some kind of mechanism to open the door. Nemu was familiar with the mechanics of such irregular architecture since such mechanisms were used for the Seki-Seki pits located at various points throughout the Seireitei to release the Hollows to combat the fighters or prisoners sent into the pits in the old days when they were used for either justice or mere sport.

It didn't take her long to find what she was looking for. She gently pressed on the stone set in a diamond shape amongst the stones. There was a slight clicking sound and then the sounds of gears turning from behind the ramp. The door swung up and out as the counter-weights did their job.

Nemu looked into the open doorway and saw a ramp leading downward. The walls on either side appeared to be decorated with friezes that showed a panther roaring at the moon with the mountain behind her in the background. Strips of fluorescent mineral lined the walls close the floor and the ceiling to provide light.

Face as expressionless as ever, Nemu descended into the depths of Pantera.

As Nemu descended, she would stop from time-to-time to look at the friezes that lined the wall. They seemed to depict various scenes of the story of Grimmjow. One frieze showed a panther leading a group of Arrancars out of Las Noches and another showed the same panther growling at a wolf and an antelope with ram horns with the body of a lion in between them. The frieze after that showed the panther sinking its teeth and claws into the lion. Nemu catalogued each scene in her memory bank as it could provide clues as to what happened in Las Noches to cause this particular Tribe to secede from Starrk's reign.

Nemu stopped when she came to the bottom of the ramp. On either side were lined statues of Grimmjow's fraccion. The friezes on either wall after the statues depicted a crowned panther roaming the sands, alone under the crescent moon. However, the panther appeared to be proud and haughty in spite of the loneliness for it knew that it was the rightful King of all under the moon. Ahead of her was an archway that led into a long hall.

She cocked her head slightly, wondering what could be down here that would warrant such décor. Her first thought was of the holding areas where the gladiators or wild beasts would be kept before being allowed to enter the arena to fight for survival. However, the place didn't feel like it was meant for such a purpose.

There is one way to determine the purpose of such a place, she thought and walked through the archway and entered the long hall.

Nemu looked around, taking in her surroundings. Fires lit in stone basins carved into the central pillars bathed the central aisle in light while either side was lit only by the ethereal glow coming from the moss clinging to the surrounding stone and veins of luminescent crystal coursing through the stone floors, walls, and ceiling. At the far end of the chamber was a statue of a panther made of blue quartz that looked to be standing guard. Tongues of flame issued from the fire pits on either side of the statue, giving it the illusion of being alive to those who looked at it long enough.

Nemu saw that after every other pair of columns there was a stone slab, empty and bathed with a dim glow coming from the markings carved into the surface. She made her way to the nearest stone slab and examined the markings. Her internal translation program read the runes and she nodded slightly as the translation ran across the screen of her mind.

"Based on the data collected, I can conclude that this chamber is some kind of birthing area," Nemu whispered. "The runes appear to be prayers to 'the Great Panther' for protection on the mother and for the blessing of strong offspring. It would appear that these Arrancars possess a highly developed culture, but are nowhere near the same level as Octavia in regards to technological advancement."

A moaning sound brought Nemu out of her ponderings. She whirled around, drawing her Zanpakuto and crouching into a defensive posture. She opened her modified Pesquisa.

Careless, Nemu thought as she looked for a flare of Reiatsu. I should have done a thorough sweep to begin with.

Useless…worthless…obsolete…

She shook her head. Now was not the time to think about Master Mayuri's ridicules. Her eyes narrowed as she sensed the other presence in the chamber. Nemu could feel the Reiatsu coming from further ahead, but it was faint and…

There's more than one, she thought. Curiosity grew in her and she cocked her head slightly. There are countless different signatures coming from one larger signature. How is that possible?

Nemu made her way forward, staying silent and as deep in the shadows as she could.

The moaning became louder the closer she got to the end of the hall. Nemu looked to her right, the direction from where she judged the sound was coming from. She could make out a figure lying on top of the stone table in front of her. She made her way to the figure and stopped when she reached the table.

Nemu looked down at the female.

The Arrancar was covered by a hide blanket decorated with blue runes that Nemu translated to be more prayers. The woman wore a stone medallion with the facial profile of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez engraved on its surface. Her two-toned hair, left side white and right side black, was divided by the mask fragment shaped like the crest of a bird that ran along the center of the top of her head and shone with sweat. Nemu looked to the foot of the stone table and saw a rapier laid out at the base of the female's feet. The emerald embedded in the gold guard seemed to glare at Nemu as if defying her to try to harm the female.

Nemu opened her Pesquisa to register the Reiatsu she felt pulsating from the rapier and found that it matched the female's Spirit Energy. Nemu concluded that the rapier housed the woman's Resurrección and it seemed as though the Resurrección had its own consciousness while its Arrancar was in her current state.

Nemu then noticed the large bulge and she reached for the blanket. She removed it and saw that the female was naked underneath. The woman's breasts and thighs were swollen. Nemu looked at the large stomach in fascination as she watched things squirm beneath the flesh, causing the stomach to ripple like the waves of an ocean.

Nemu felt something deep inside her mind chitter, but not in hunger. It felt more like longing. But longing for what? Nemu didn't know for she didn't understand the primordial feelings that run deep like the rivers and oceans of molten stone far beneath the world's scarred surface.

She opened her modified Pesquisa to get a more accurate reading on the Reiatsu signatures originating within the swollen stomach. What she found was not what she had expected. Nemu had expected for the woman to be filled with over-grown parasites. In some ways, the creatures within the woman were parasites, but parasites of a different sort.

"Fascinating," Nemu whispered. She reached a hand out to touch the rippling stomach. However, before she could the mass seemed to either panic or go into a wild frenzy. The woman moaned and her Reiatsu flared slightly before dying down again.

Nemu was surprised that even though the woman's girth had increased slightly, she could feel that the number of offspring inside had decreased by roughly three percent. Her mind computed any number of causes for this phenomenon. However, she could only think of one conclusion.

"Arrancar offspring, while in the fetal stages, feed off of each other, as well as the mother's Reiatsu, to grow. It would appear that Hollow evolution still runs its course in the Arrancar, even if it may be restricted to the womb."

Nemu decided that she had gathered enough intelligence and her programming told her that it was time to leave. However, as she watched the swelling stomach bulge and ripple with the living creatures growing within, a part of her didn't want to leave. She knelt beside the stone slab and raised a hand to touch the restless brood.

She hesitated slightly before allowing a small amount of her own Reiatsu to leak through her fingertips. She touched the pregnant stomach and the brood took notice of her. She watched in fascination and something other than cool intellect as the worms swarmed towards the area where her fingers touched the skin. She could feel the heads nudging at her fingertips as if they were trying to feed on the Reiatsu or trying to be touched and be recognized.

Nemu could feel that inner creature trapped beneath the surface of her programming stir with longing.

Oh, to love and be loved in return, a voice from those darkest depths moaned.

Nemu allowed the palm of her hand to completely rest on the woman's stomach. She was not aware as she released more of her Reiatsu. She was only aware of the brood stirring beneath the surface. They got as close to the surface as they could and caressed her palm with their smooth bodies.

"What do you think I am?" Nemu whispered as the brood continued their caresses. "Do you even know?"

Nemu closed her eyes. She felt lost. It was the same sensation she felt shortly before they had departed for Hueco Mundo. It was the sensation that took her to one of the places she was forbidden to go: Room 116. For a moment she thought that she could feel cold steel and not stone beneath her feet.

"Room One Sixteen," she whispered as the memory came upon her.

Squad 12 Barracks, Day before Operation Orpheus's Departure

Nemu's bare feet slapped against the cold metallic floor as she made her way to the door near the end of the hall. She stopped in front of the steel door with 116 engraved on its cold surface. For any other who walked down this desolate hall it would look like any other of the many laboratory doors. However, for Nemu Kurotsuchi, this room was special.

If Mayuri's blood cells were her father then this room was her mother.

She looked at the security pad and placed her palm on its smooth surface. The light blue scanning light ran down the length of her hand. Nemu waited and then turned the handle when the red light by the door became green.

The interior of Room 116 was dark and cold. The room smelled of disinfectant and the other chemicals used to make the steel and concrete meet her creator's standards for a workspace.

Much of the room was cramped with machines and tables and cabinets for materials and safes for the files he would not leave in the open, even in the heart of his domain. The center of the room, however, was cleared around the cylinder of transparent material. Masses of cables were hooked into the cylinder at the base and the top. It was an altar amidst the clutter of science, an analogy made all the poignant by what was exhibited to the eyes of those with the proper clearance.

Nemu looked at the woman floating in the light purple liquid. The woman's hair flowed around her, mingling with the dark wires attached to her skull. There were more wires, piercing her in places natural and unnatural, each bringing life-sustaining nutrients and various biological chemicals into the still-developing being. However, the expression on her face was peaceful and innocent. It was the look of one who did not know the joys and sufferings of the world.

Nemu leaned closer to the tank, looking at her own face that was worn by another. It was a living mirror.

"Nemu 2.0," she whispered. Whether she said it to herself or in greeting, no one could say.

This was her replacement. This was the upgraded model that made her obsolete. Even as she stood here, facing her doom, the enhanced mod soul similar to her own was being written. It was going from a tabula rasa to an exact copy of her mind and memories. If we are our memories, then this being would become Nemu.

"But I'm Nemu," she whispered laying a hand on the glass. It was warm, but it would become cold. Yes, when the liquid was drained Nemu 2.0 would be as cold and confused as Nemu 1.0 had been on the day of her birth.

Before she had been inserted into her Gigai, the copy of Nemu's mind had been updated. She was now operating under the knowledge that Master Mayuri had made clear: she was expendable.

Mayuri had always said that she was expendable. She hadn't questioned even though she never believed that Master Mayuri would replace her. After all, she could serve him in anything and be trusted with any of his dark secrets as she had done so many times before, including the other Gobi Treaty.

No matter how badly she was hurt either by his hands or by the hands of others, Master Mayuri had always fixed her. Even though he was without compassion or graciousness, he still showered that he valued her through his actions.

Nemu didn't know if that could be called "being loved", but she had felt useful…and valued.

Uryu Ishida had asked her once, and only once, why she did not leave her creator's cruelty.

"Because it's my place," she had replied. The words seemed to sadden him and had made her feel oddly guilty. He had never brought up the subject again. Apparently her answer had been enough for the last Quincy.

As a member of the Gotei 13, Nemu had a place in the system. She was a mere cog in the Soul Society's great engine and her absence would require being filled. A quiet, but still present, Nemu-shaped hole in the Women's Association immediately came to mind.

She had wanted to say goodbye to Miss Yachiru, but as far as she knew Yachiru had never came to visit.

Maybe she was too busy to visit, Nemu thought. She is a Lieutenant.

However that did not stop her from feeling somewhat…

There was no word in her programming to describe how she felt and Nemu wondered about that. It was as though the Arrancar Gigai was causing her to feel emotions that she had been programmed to never feel, or at least to never show or comprehend. She knew that she should inform Master Mayuri, but he had programmed her never to bother him with something as trivial as emotions.

So, Nemu had kept silent.

What was the point in worrying? She had mattered very little to begin with and now…

I don't matter at all.

"I do not know why I came," she whispered. "I do not know why I want to hate you. Such things are illogical," she said. Her mask fragment clinked against the glass surface as she bowed her head against the cylinder.

"What does it matter? I am finished. I am obsolete.

"If I die on this mission then Master Mayuri would just wake you to take my place. He wouldn't weep for me for he would have an upgraded Nemu to serve him. If I survive…that would be worse. As soon as I have made my reports and the matter was concluded…"

She knew what would happen, but was afraid to say it. She knew that she would be disassembled and the new Nemu would step into her place. Would anyone even realize that she had died? Would they see an imposter or just Nemu?

She no longer had any value. She was little more than a surgical glove, to be removed and thrown away once her function was done. She would be discarded as a mere matter of course and without thought.

She had given Master Mayuri everything, keeping nothing to herself. She had never rebelled against him and she had never sought escape. Everything he had ever asked of her she had tried to achieve. He was the Creator and she was the creation. It was only logical for the creation to obey the Creator no matter what.

Obedience is a virtue.

"In the end, we're not real people," she whispered to Nemu 2.0. "We're just equipment. Like me, you would never have truly been born. Like me, you would already be dead even as you sucked in your first breath. I wonder. Was it truly murder when the first generational mod souls were dissolved? Or was it mere waste disposal?

"Will it be murder when Master Mayuri disposes of me? Or will that too be mere waste disposal?"

She looked at her developing doppelgänger. Something rose within her and Nemu banged a fist against the glass. For a moment she hoped that the glass would shatter, bringing about an end to the creature who would eventually replace her.

This is your fault, she thought at the woman in the tank. You only exist to take everything away from me, including my existence. I want to exist…no, not merely to exist. I want to live.

"I am me. You are not me," she whispered as she stepped back. Her face's tired reflection, complete with mask fragment, shimmered over her sister's face. Nemu looked away.

"I hate you and yet I don't hate you. You are the only one who may ever truly understand me…truly know me." She reached a trembling hand out to the glass.

"I am sorry," she whispered as she stroked the glass as if it was the cheek of her twin. "I suppose that this is what Uryu referred to as 'being afraid.' If that's so then I am afraid. I'm afraid that we'll never really get a chance to speak to each other. I'm afraid that I won't even be allowed in here to witness your birth."

Her twin's face still maintained that look of serenity.

"Why did I come here in the first place? It is…illogical.

"I suppose I came here to say 'Goodbye' to someone," she said. "Miss Yachiru didn't come and visit me, but she is an Officer and so is most likely busy. Since I'm not really close to anyone else, I suppose that you're the only one I can say it to."

Nemu sighed as she stepped away from the tank.

"It's not fair," she whispered. "Then again, fairness is illogical."

She looked at her clone and longed to reach into the tank and grab her sister's hand. She knew that would be going against orders, but a part of her longed to reach out and give a small part of herself to her growing sister. That way, if something were to happen, then she would be remembered, even if only in dreams.

Instead, she turned to leave the cold room that had been her mother. She thought that if she was capable of crying then she would shed a tear. But she was programmed to never cry.

If I am truly to be remembered then let it be in your dreams, dear Sister, Nemu thought as the door to Room 116 closed behind her.

Pantera

Nemu let the memory slip back into its proper place, a small frown on her face. Why had she allowed that memory to surface? What had possessed her to even go to that room that day? Now, what was this sense of longing flowing through her like a stream seeking the sea? She had no data that seemed to provide an answer.

That meant that it was an area of knowledge that Master Mayuri had no use for and had therefore denied her.

She moved her hand across the stomach, a gentle glide so as not to unduly disturb the Arrancar. The ripples of swarming spawn followed sliding against her palm. With an odd moment of hesitation Nemu pulled her hand back.

Resolving to gather more data, Nemu stepped to take a closer look at the Arrancar's face.

The face looked like any ordinary human's save for the dark grey markings that ran from the corner of her eyes up to her hairline. The woman's face shone with sweat and she mumbled under her breath as though she was delirious. Nemu wasn't surprised, but she couldn't tell for certain whether the delirium was caused by some kind of narcotic to help the woman remain clam or if it was from the pregnancy itself.

Nemu reached down and using her thumb and forefinger opened one eye. The woman's lavender eye was glazed and the pupil didn't dilate the way it should have with the slight increase amount of light allowed to enter the eye.

The woman's mouth opened letting out a low moan as the head tilted away from Nemu. She let the eye close and reached out to tilt the head to its original position. Her hands were cool against the heated cheeks, slick with sweat.

Despite Nemu's effort the head turned towards her instead. Nemu was certain that even if the Arrancar saw her the Arrancar's senses were so dulled that she would be unable to comprehend any sensation. Nemu didn't know why she did it, but she caressed one side of the woman's face, brushing a strand of hair back. The Arrancar seemed to smile, but it was difficult to say whether the Arrancar recognized the touch or if the brood was settling down again. The woman relaxed and permitted Nemu to lower her head back to its original position.

Nemu knew that she should leave, but she didn't want to. She wanted to spend more time in the presence of something so strange and wonderful to her. She covered the woman with the hide and continued to stroke the woman's face with her cool hands as though she was a mother tucking her daughter into bed. She began to hum a soothing melody she had heard in a pre-Downfall movie from Mexico about a girl and a faun.

In less than a minute the Arrancar seemed to have fallen into true sleep. Nemu pulled her hands back, wet with the woman's sweat. She found herself oddly pleased at having apparently provided some comfort for the Arrancar female.

The sense of being pleased was one enigma too many for Nemu. She decided that she no longer wanted to be there. She put her hand to the swollen abdomen a final time. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the brood swarming under the surface one last time. She opened her eyes and withdrew her hand as she took her leave.

The only sounds in the hall were the soft falls of her footsteps and the deep breathing of the Panteran.

When Nemu emerged from the depths below the arena she looked up at the crescent moon. She paused and allowed its silvery light to shine upon her. She closed her eyes as though trying to allow the moonlight to sink into her and fill her. She could hear a difference in the sounds coming in the direction of the gathered Panterans as they began celebrating the Mating Ceremony. There was something primordial about the beating drums, like the beating of a heart, that caused whatever lurked in the depths of her psyche to stir in anticipation.

There was also a sense of longing stirring within her. She could still feel the sensation of the life growing inside the Panteran woman. She could still feel the tingling sensation as it had run up from the tips of her fingers to her curious mind. The sensation brought with it a longing to experience what it must feel like to have life growing inside you.

She put a hand on top of her flat stomach trying to imagine what it would be like to be a biological incubator, using her own biological mechanisms instead of a lab's tank and artificial proteins to grow a new life.

"Why should I feel this way?" she asked herself. "Such a thing is illogical."

Turning away from the distantly troubling thoughts, Nemu's mind defaulted to the mission priorities. She went into Sonído and came out on top of one of the flat rooftops of the buildings. She scanned the street below, searching for any sign of Ikkaku or the Commander. However, she couldn't see them. She was still alone with her thoughts.

She was about to go into another Sonído, but stood still instead. She looked out towards the walls of Pantera and out onto the desert beyond. There was something peaceful about the endless stretch of white clashing against the sea of black above. It was the type of peace that she had never found in the Soul Society.

Nemu closed her eyes and placed both hands on her stomach. She breathed in the night air, imagining the inhalation being the movement of thousands of potential offspring pushing against the wall of a womb, struggling to be free of their prison.

The womb, she thought. I had a womb once.

She could remember that day, so long ago, when she was given a womb only to have it taken away.

Department of Research and Development, 2 Weeks after Nemu's "Birth"

She lay on the cold table, aware of the surgeons surrounding her. Her eyes looked to where her father stood over the small table of surgical instruments, examining each one to make sure they measured up to his standards.

She found it fascinating to watch him work. For all of the faults that others, including his own peers, leveled against him, Mayuri Kurotsuchi was forgiven them for his great scientific mind and skills.

Mayuri made sure that he shined in all levels of science in a way that his predecessor had never been able to, or so Nemu had been told. When it came to devising theory, Mayuri's brilliant mind had conjured innovations never before conceived. He was able to devise solutions to problems that had before, even under Kisuke Urahara's leadership, had been believed to be unsolvable.

Mayuri's greatness went on down to the actual experiments, for he was not one to delegate. He insisted on taking the lead in every major experiment that went on in his division for two main reasons. The first was that he assumed that everyone under him were inferior unless given absolute proof that they could at least be his intellectual equal. As a result, he never trusted any of his many subordinates to take the lead on important experimentations. Second, he simply loved his work.

Nemu knew that some scientists had a low opinion of engineers, seeing them as merely the last links in a process that they themselves stood at the forefront of. However, her Creator prided himself on seeing a project from the drawing board to the final model, making sure that each step of production went smoothly.

She believed that he would do nothing to severely damage her. With this in mind, Nemu watched him go to work by looking at the large mirror that hung over the surgical table. This was an opportunity for her to learn as well as give her Creator a chance to experiment on his latest innovations. The young Lieutenant watched with mild interest as he implanted the strange looking organs into her.

Contrary to the rumors that had been going around, she could feel pain. However, she could not switch it off, and there were no anesthetics in her body at the moment. So, she had no alternative but to do as Master Mayuri instructed: she learned to cope.

"Finished," Mayuri said after he attached everything to where it needed to go and sewn her back up. "Now, let's see if this works."

The next few weeks had been strange for her. She was excused from performing her duties as a Lieutenant, but she was still permitted to exercise in the training area. She was given different types of liquids to drink. She didn't know what they were for, but she knew that they were different from the specialized nutritional injections she was given that would be absorbed by her body to ensure it maintained peak physical conditioning.

However, she would drink the fluids she was given, as she was instructed to do, and after about a day she felt something tighten in her. She did not recognize the sensation of something inside her letting go and sending warm liquid flowing out of the slit located between her legs. It wasn't until one of her attendants informed her of the bodily function known as "urination" that Nemu understood what it was.

Even though it was strange to her at first, Nemu got used to it. She was fascinated to learn about the proper function and usage of a restroom and so she would drink more of the fluids in order to use it more often.

It wasn't until the third week that she experienced a different kind of urination. At first she was confused. She had never seen urine look as red and thick as it had that day and there had been a more unpleasant cramping sensation prior to its release. She had cocked her head as she examined her clothing. When Mayuri saw the disposal of the unused tissue and blood in her clothes he smiled.

"I would say that the experiment was a success," Mayuri said. "I want you back at the lab tomorrow for the removal."

She was confused. She didn't understand why something so intriguing would have to be removed so soon. She wanted to know more about this strange device that she had been given and what else it could do.

"Uh…Master Mayuri," she said, hesitating.

"What is it?" Mayuri asked, somewhat exasperated.

"Well…it's just that…do we have to remove it so soon?"

"What are you talking about, you worthless girl? I got all that I needed, why should I need to study it further?"

"It's just that…what else does it do?"

Mayuri looked at her, and for the first time she found herself afraid of him. However, she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. She was his creation and a Creator would never do anything to harm his creation. Mayuri sighed and waved a hand in dismissal.

"It's nothing that can't be done with the proper equipment," he said. "The only other thing it does is hold a fetus as it develops."

"What's a fetus?" Nemu asked.

"A fetus is merely a group of dividing cells that clump together into strands of protein that eventually becomes a living entity," Mayuri said. "It's nothing special. In fact, I would even say that a fetus is merely another kind of parasite for it feeds off of the body, weakening the adult so that it can grow."

Nemu was confused by what Mayuri said. How could life grow inside another life? The concept was both foreign and intriguing to her. She placed a hand in the area between her stomach and her groin, wondering what the sensation would feel like.

"Perhaps, you would like to grow a fetus inside me to see if it works," Nemu said.

"Why should I? You went through your Menstruation Cycle. As far as I'm concerned, there's no need to go any further. Now, let's get that thing out of you so that we can install more useful equipment."

"Then, what was this device for?" Nemu asked.

"First, it's called a uterus. Second, I only did it to see if I could replicate a female reproductive organ complete with its functions in an artificial being like you. I see that I can and so there's no need for you to keep it any longer. Do you understand me you simple-minded girl?"

"I don't quite understand. Why take something away from me when it works?" Nemu insisted her composure slipping. Mayuri shook his head.

"You really are a simpleton. I can take it away from you because there's no need for you to possess a female reproductive organ. However, I will allow you to keep the bladder as it may be necessary for you to drink regular fluids that your body can't absorb. Now, stop asking silly questions and do as you're told."

She never asked about the experiment nor did she question any of Master Mayuri's multiple experiments on her after that. She had come to accept it as inevitable and, after Mayuri Kurotsuchi dealt with Szayel Aporro Granz in the Winter War, she saw the foresight he had.

The thing that Master Mayuri had replaced in exchange for the artificial uterus was a series of packets that would contain many of his more toxic drugs. When Szayel Aporro Granz performed his Gabriel technique he had brought his cells back together where the womb should have been. As a result, he had absorbed the packets of toxins containing that week's experimental drug: one that would slow time for the infected to where it would render them paralyzed.

In the end, Master Mayuri's removal of the uterus helped to bring about Szayel Aporro Granz's downfall.

There was something rather poetic about Mayuri's actions. He had replaced creation with ruin in her.

Pantera

"Judea!"

The name snapped her away from the memories. Others might have sighed in relief at being pulled away from such recollections, but Nemu knew better than to express herself. More importantly, she could feel the return of her hunger.

As she watched the Commander and the Third Seat approach, Nemu wondered again as to why she did not report her hunger. It was not one of the secrets that she was ordered to defend. It was not like why she had been luring in the former Octavian stronghold in Las Noches. Nor was it like how Master Mayuri got the Hollows that were used to train both expeditions. Then there was what actually happened in Octavia and not what the Commander thought happened. It was her personal secret and she wanted to keep it that way. So why couldn't she tell the Commander about her cravings?

Am I afraid?

The question caused her to frown slightly.

Tatsuki

Tatsuki could tell that something was wrong. Nemu hadn't shown the slightest bit of interest in either Ikkaku's or her own injuries. Nor did it seem that she took the time to even analyze them. Instead, Nemu simply stared off into the night sky with a little frown on her face.

"I think she's lost it," Ikkaku said.

"Please, when has she ever been sane?" Tatsuki retorted.

The same could be asked about you, you little S-n-M pervert, her Inner Dragon hissed before laughing.

"Oh shut up, Hotatsuki," Tatsuki whispered in return.

"Huh, did you say something?" Ikkaku asked.

"Never mind," Tatsuki said. She returned her attention to Nemu. "Hey, quit spacing out and get down here!"

Nemu looked at her, face as expressionless as ever. She simply jumped from the rooftop. She went into a backflip and landed on her feet, facing them.

"I apologize, Commander," Nemu said. "I was admiring the night sky."

"Is that so?" Tatsuki asked. She was tempted to point out that it was always night here.

"Yes, now, how may I be of assistance?"

"First, you can tell me what you've been up to," Tatsuki said.

"I was merely exploring. Unfortunately, I did not find anything of interest except that I am certain that this place would normally be well-defended, as concluded by the thickness of the walls," Nemu reported.

"Sheesh, even I could tell you that," Ikkaku said.

"Right," Tatsuki said, rubbing the corner of her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. "Have you found where Yamada is? We need to pick him up before we leave."

"Oh, are we leaving so soon?" Nemu asked.

"Yes," Tatsuki replied. "I got the information we need. I'll tell you about it while we walk."

"Very well, Commander," Nemu said. "Now, if you'll please follow me. It won't take us long to get young Yamada."

Ikkaku Madarame

Ikkaku walked through the filthy streets of the Thrall District with very little interest. He could tell that the Commander was bothered by the stench rising from the muck in the streets since she continued to cover her mouth and nose with one sleeve. Nemu, however, was leading them through the filth with her usual rock-steady attitude.

However, for Ikkaku Madarame, this place was no big deal. Even though his original district in the Rukongai hadn't been as bad as this place, he was too strong and too fidgety to stay in one place very long. As a result he had passed through places that were worse than this in his wanderings as a warrior with only Yumichika keeping him company. Just thinking of those days, before Kenpachi Zaraki came along and proved to be someone worth following, brought a sense of sorrow to Ikkaku.

If only Yumichika was here, Ikkaku thought as he looked to one side. He would not doubt be complaining about the stench and how the mud would stain his newly cleaned clothes.

Ikkaku looked over to where Tatsuki was walking and saw that she was looking at a group of children who were poking sticks at a white and grey scorpion the size of a good-sized water rat and then to a group of adults lying in front of a run-down shack smoking from long clay pipes. Ikkaku had seen enough places to recognize the pipes as the kind used to smoke opium.

Ikkaku imagined that Tatsuki was feeling somewhat sorry for these Thralls, but he didn't. However, he wouldn't say so in order to avoid a pointless argument. For Ikkaku there was being pushed down and then there was just lying down in the filth. These Thralls were merely like those weaklings in the poorer districts of the Rukongai who wouldn't meet his eyes back then. Even though they were miserable and desperate, those pluses did nothing about it. Squad 11 had more than its fair share of people from the worst parts of the Rukongai. However, unlike those pathetic pluses, they had gotten from those districts to the Seireitei on their own strength.

Ikkaku knew that he would never be like Ichigo when it came to compassion. The closest thing he had to compassion for the weak was giving them a chance to grow stronger. And it wasn't just strengthening their Reiatsu.

"Judea, are you sure you know where you're going?" Tatsuki demanded. Nemu turned her head to glance back at them. For a brief moment, Ikkaku thought he caught something in that glance that was foreign to Nemu.

What the Hell?

Ikkaku focused on the Lieutenant's face. However, there was only the usual blank expression. But he knew that there was something there before. However, he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"No, Eurydice, my navigation is not based on any particular destination. I foresaw that Yamada was the most at risk if separated and so I took the liberty of spraying his exposed skin with a pheromone I can uniquely track while he was asleep. I am ninety-seven percent certain we are in close proximity of Yamada's current location," Nemu replied formally. Nemu faced forward again and picked her pace back up. Ikkaku glared at the back of her head and then it came to him.

That's it, he thought. The second she turned to look at us she looked annoyed. On anyone else it would be nothing, but on doll-girl…

But are you sure you saw it? Ikkaku bit his lip at the question that the Voice of Reason asked. He hadn't been looking at her directly, and when he had she was her normal self. Plus, it went against everything he had learned from working with her for centuries.

Maybe I didn't see it. Maybe I was imagining things, but still…

But his gut was troubled, and he was a man who paid attention to his gut-instincts.

"Up there," Nemu said before vaulting up a wall. She landed on a ledge and went through a cloth-covered hole. Tatsuki followed, burring into Sonído. Ikkaku sighed before just jumping up to ledge.

Landing on the ledge Ikkaku pulled the stirring curtain aside and saw…

What…the…fuck?

Ikkaku's mind stalled when he saw Hanataro sitting on a cot with a woman.

"Yamada," Tatsuki snapped as she crossed the room with Nemu shadowing her.

Hanataro gave a frightened squawk sending a few sheets of paper he was holding flying as he jumped to his feet. Ikkaku frowned at the girl who was now hiding behind him.

No…there's no way…

"Co— Judea! I…well…you see…" Hanataro stuttered like a school boy caught in the act of doing something naughty. Tatsuki arched an eyebrow and looked to Hanataro's shoulder where the blonde was peeking. She glanced at one of the sheets of paper floating through the air and snatched it. She looked at it, maintaining an excellent poker face.

"Medical treatment charts," she deadpanned and looked at Hanataro. "What is this about?"

"Well…you see…Thrall can't read. And…well…I…I could only show her so much so I thought to give her some basic material…for…for study," Hanataro stuttered. His face was becoming redder by the moment.

"Yamada, you spend a few hours here, and you start teaching medicine?" Tatsuki asked. Ikkaku thought that she seemed a bit amused and yet slightly annoyed at the prospect.

"Well, they need medicine," Hanataro said.

"Fine, whatever," Tatsuki sighed as she allowed the sheet of paper to drop from her hand. "Just pack your things, Yamada. We're moving out. I don't want to hang around Pantera any longer than we have to."

"Yes Ma'am!" Hanataro said a bit too loudly. The girl behind him stirred and he stepped far enough from her for Ikkaku to really get a good look at her. His eyes widened in surprise. She was one of the most severely scarred people he had ever seen. Many in Squad 11 had a lot fewer scars than this woman.

How could she survive all that? Ikkaku couldn't help but feel admiration for her willingness to endure so much suffering.

"You are leaving?" the woman asked bowing her head.

"Uh yes, Thrall. But you have everything you need to start being a healer now," he assured her. He reached into one of his pouch belts hidden under his uniform and took out a couple of folded envelopes. "Here," he said and took hold of her hand. He put the envelopes into the hand and closed it with his own. "It's just some powdered antibiotic that you can use to sprinkle on wounds to help keep infection from setting in. It's not much, but…well…"

The woman stepped closer into his personal space and looked him in the eyes. To Ikkaku's surprise, she smiled at him.

"Thrall thanks you, Lord Yamada," she said softly. "Is there any way that I can repay you?"

"Well…uh…"

Ikkaku's shock faded and he grinned as he thought of a way to make sure that Hanataro became a real man.

"Yeah, Lord Yamada, would like a kiss," Ikkaku said grinning.

Ikkaku hoped that the suggestion would embarrass Hanataro. After all, Ikkaku could not let all of this "Lord Yamada" nonsense go to the young healer's head. He was not disappointed.

"I…I…I…well…uh…" Hanataro stuttered.

"If Lord Yamada wishes a kiss then Thrall must obey," the woman said. She hesitated before approaching Hanataro. Ikkaku noticed that she was doing her best to keep her face hidden from them and he couldn't say that he blamed her. She pressed her lips to Hanataro's. Hanataro stiffened and began to flop around like a fish while his eyes looked ready to pop out of his sockets.

Ikkaku did his best to keep from laughing at the mere sight of Hanataro's discomfort. However, he could not suppress his desire to make a jest at the situation.

"YEAH! Way to go Lord Yamada!" Ikkaku applauded. "Pretty soon we'll make a real man out of ya!"

Tatsuki glared at Ikkaku and shook her head.

"Commander, it would appear as though Yamada is going to faint. Shall I administer first aid?" Nemu inquired in her usual monotone.

"He'll be fine," Tatsuki said, "just as soon as he gets over the shock." This is probably his first real kiss. Tatsuki looked at the young woman who looked frightened. She looked to Tatsuki and gasped.

"Please, forgive me," the woman said as she tried to cover her scarred face. "I did not mean to…I was just…he helped me and…and I was ordered…"

"It's alright," Tatsuki said. "There's no need to be afraid."

Thrall didn't look so certain. Instead she backed away from Tatsuki and got on her knees. She placed her forehead to the floor.

"Please…please…don't hurt Thrall. Thrall didn't mean any disrespect."

Tatsuki shook her head.

"Never mind," Tatsuki said. "Yamada, hurry up. We're leaving."

Hanataro nodded as he picked up his Zanpakuto from where it leaned against the wall. He walked towards Tatsuki and then stopped. He looked at Thrall who was still prostrated on the floor.

"Come on, Shrimp," Ikkaku said. "Just leave her."

Hanataro shook his head and walked towards Thrall. He knelt in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. Thrall stiffened, but she raised her head to look at him.

"Lord Yamada," she whispered before Hanataro wrapped his arms around her.

"WHAT THE…?" Ikkaku shouted.

Hanataro ignored him. Instead he leaned close to Thrall and whispered in her ear. Tatsuki couldn't hear what he said, but she felt that whatever it was should only remain between the two outcasts.

He understands her even if she doesn't quite understand him, Tatsuki thought.

Tatsuki watched as Thrall nodded and smiled a little. She thought she could see tears in the Arrancar's eyes. Hanataro leaned in close and placed a kiss on her forehead where the Fe rune had been burned in her skin, the first scar of many. Tatsuki knew that he was blessing her in some way that she could not understand.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yes," Hanataro said as he got to his feet. He helped Thrall to her feet. As they left, she remained where she stood, head bowed and smiling.

Outside Pantera

"So what did you say?" Ikkaku asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"I…don't want to say," Hanataro said.

"Oh come on, Lord Yamada, tell us. You obviously said something to get her water works going, and I want to know what it was. Was it your undying love for her unparalleled beauty?"

"That's enough, Ikkaku," Tatsuki said. "If Hanataro doesn't want to tell us then he doesn't have to."

"Come on, Lieutenant," Ikkaku said. "Our young pup here is keeping secrets and I want to know what they are."

"Honestly, you're as bad as Rangiku," Tatsuki said as she rolled her eyes.

"No I'm not," Ikkaku protested. "I'm nowhere near as bad as that fat cow."

As Tatsuki started to list the reasons why Ikkaku was as bad as Rangiku, Hanataro found himself thinking back. It was strange how his experience in the Thrall District had stirred up old memories that he thought were long hidden. Yet, he felt as though coming to Hueco Mundo a second time was a way for him to reconcile the boy he had been with the man he was becoming.

As he reflected on it, another memory came forth. It was the memory of the moment that had become the turning point for his entire life. It was the moment that, in some way, the Nameless Boy had died and had been reborn.

He lifted his face to the night sky and looked at the crescent moon. He closed his eyes and, for the briefest moment, thought that he could feel the spring rain of that day.

Drowned Rat

The spring rain fell on his shivering form as he lay in a pile of shit and mud and trash heaped in one of the many dark alleyways. He was weak and even the trembling had passed. He felt as though his whole body was on fire and yet he was freezing.

Finally, he thought. The winter had finally come to claim him for its own even though any number of things that had cut or been eaten by him could have done it. He'd been denied the mercy of just drifting off. Now Death had come to free him from the nightmare of life. It had been reaching out for him even before the rains came. It had been creeping slowly but steadily towards him and the rains had given it vigor.

He had fallen here, too tired and weak to move. When had that been? Was it this morning or was it yesterday? He couldn't tell. And he didn't care. He was going to die and his death bed was going to be made of trash and mud and shit. Someone would strip his corpse and someone else would toss it into the river with the rest of the trash. He had seen it. He had been part of it.

He was relieved. It wasn't that he didn't fear Death. He did, especially now. But life…was it truly something he regretted losing? No. He took some small pride in having never been caught, but in the end he was just a nameless shit rat. No one but him would know he had ever lived. And even he couldn't bring himself to care.

Even so…, he thought sadly. Even so…

He could hear someone coming close to him. He could barely hear the sound of sandaled feet splashing in the puddles filled with filthy water and the rain beating off of the wide straw hats people wore to keep dry. That meant that they were someone of some relevance. He was strong enough to turn his head a little and open his eyes. Fear took hold of him when he saw the woman standing in the mouth of the alley.

He recognized the black uniform but not the white haori she wore. Her face was lost in his fading vision but he would recognize the uniform anywhere.

Gobbler, he thought weakly as he remembered the Gobbler who had nearly taken him. That Gobbler had worn the same kind of uniform. It only made sense that everyone who wore the Black was a Gobbler.

He realized with growing panic that she was coming closer to him.

No…no…NO! I'M DYING! DON'T! He tried to scream but only a wheezing sound escaped his mouth.

She reached out for him and he wanted to scurry away from that reaching hand. But his body was too weak to obey. He couldn't even raise a hand to protect himself. All that he could do was shut his eyes. He was a dying animal, unable to defend itself from the oncoming carrion eater.

But her hand only started stroking his filthy hair. His eyes cracked open again in confusion. The gesture itself was no great comfort. He had seen the customers do it to those who had been taken before. He had always assumed it was as horrid as any other touch.

But somehow it wasn't. She knelt down in the gutter and he saw the face under her hat.

Is…is this…Death?

She was so beautiful. And she smiled at him with eyes filled with sorrow. He didn't know what he wanted to say but he tried to say something. But again he could only manage to give a shuddering rasping sound.

"You poor, poor child," she whispered gently.

That hand reached and brushed away locks of mud-stained hair that had been clinging to his face. The air felt warmer, but it wasn't like the heat simmering under his skin. It was like one of the good summer days when the warm sun and gentle winds caressed him as he hid on a rooftop.

"Isane, would you please carry my things?" the woman asked.

"As you wish, Captain," another woman's voice said.

He couldn't see the other woman, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was the face before him and the gentle arms wrapping themselves around him. She was getting her clean clothes dirty as she held him close to her.

No, please…please…let go. I…I just want to sleep. Please…just…just let me sleep. I'm so tired, he wanted to say. She picked him up with ease and it wasn't difficult to believe considering how small and thin he was. But the way she held him against her so that he received some of the hat's shelter while supporting him was hard for him to believe.

The woman kissed him on the forehead, not worried about the mud caked on his face.

"Come on, little one. I'm taking you home," she whispered to him.

Home?

The word was foreign to him. He had heard it, but he never had the chance to ask what it meant. He had been alone so long, surviving and learning what he needed to survive on his own. That was the world. That was his life. That was what he was: a gutter rat.

But there was something in the way she said that word. It reached him in a way that he didn't understand at the time. But it soothed him. It drew out the trace of something long forgotten, buried under the years of hardship and suffering, but never truly lost. And as he drifted off into the darkness he stopped trying to fight. Instead he put his head on her bosom.

And the Nameless Boy knew deep in his heart if not his head that, for the first time in his life, he was safe.

Hueco Mundo

"HEY, ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?" Ikkaku shouted.

Hanataro shook himself out of the memory. He saw that the other three were a few yards ahead of him and he ran towards them.

"I'm sorry, I…I was just thinking," Hanataro said.

"Oh, were you pining for your little girlfriend?" Ikkaku asked and laughed. "I swear, Hanataro, you're pathetic."

"I think that you're just jealous that Hanataro caught the attention of two women while you haven't caught any," Tatsuki said.

"HEY! I CAN GET ALL THE WOMEN I WANT!" Ikkaku shouted. "It's not my fault that all of the women here have bad taste."

Hanataro smiled and looked back towards Pantera.

Goodbye, Thrall.

He turned to face ahead and followed the others out into the moonlit sands.

End of Chapter 9

A.N.: This was originally to be part of Chapter 8, but we decided to make it into its own chapter so that way it can stand on its own. The chapter title refers to both the physical scars that Thrall has and the emotional scars that Nemu and Hanataro carry. Likewise, the chapter title also refers to the Fe rune (the Nordic rune used to represent cattle and property) that the Thralls in Pantera have branded on their foreheads since that mark represents both a physical scar and an emotional scar as well.

One of the things that we wanted to do with this chapter was show where Hanataro and Nemu came from since it does relate to their own character arcs that will unfold over the course of this novel and it does provide more depth to their own unique struggles.

The Panteran song is to the tune of "The Rains of Castamere" from Game of Thrones Season 2 and Nemu hums the theme from El Labarinto del Fauno (a.k.a. Pan's Labyrinth).

The main reason why it's taking us so long in between chapters is because Eduard and I both love epic-length storytelling and those tales are about the journey; not merely the destination. As a result, we want to do this novel right and not rush to conclude it. Rushing would cheapen the experience and the story itself. Eduard and I want to make this novel a great journey to revelation.

Then there's the matter of the slow build-up. The main reason for this is that while Bleach itself is an action manga that is quick to the punch, this story is more of an epic drama where the plot is the journey and the heart is the goal.

I like to equate this story with a tapestry. Each arc and story line is a different kind of thread, some may seem to be out-of-place or have no real purpose. However, when put through the loom of story-telling, the threads work in unison to reveal a much larger picture that is already in the writer's mind.

Next chapter we will reveal Rukia's fate, which we've hinted at in previous chapters starting with the Prologue. Other clues are found in the chapters "Unfamiliar Seas", "Metropolis", "The First Pieces", and "The Panther and the Dragon".

Thank you for reading and please review.