Alright, here we are with another chapter. I've been wanting to get to this point of the story for quite a long time you see. Not just because its the start of the arrancar conflict, although that is quite the bonus. No its because I've been waiting to get to two scenes in particular. I wont say anymore however. I'll let you enjoy this chapter for what it is. Please let us know what you felt in a review. I'm eagerly awaiting to hear what you all have to say about this chapter in particular.
Thanks once again to Greatkingrat88 (for writing) and jcampbellohten (for being our Beta)
Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shounen jump. Fairy tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and weekly shounen magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fun.
The arrancar flexed his muscles and wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the hilt of his new sword. Along with his nine compatriots, he descended through the air, landing on a rooftop. Like a predator scouting out his prey, he paused to look over the city nightscape, a wide grin on his face.
"Orders, boss?" said one of his subordinates, a bulky arrancar with slick, oily hair.
"Shit, you need me to hold your hand?" said the leader. He was in a good mood, and as such refrained from belting his servant across the head. "We're here as hollows. What is it hollows do?"
"We hunt!" one of them piped up gleefully.
"We chase!" another added.
"We kill and eat!"
"That's the spirit, boys. So, if you know already... the fuck're you waiting for? Lord Aizen said we could do what we want for a bit, so let's go. Time to burn and pillage until those dumbass shinigami find us. Some of you may die, but the ones that don't will be the strong ones. Kill! Hunt! Eat!"
"Kill! Hunt! Eat!" his companions echoed. Their calls would not go unanswered for long.
With Orihime in her arms, going at full speed, Erza raced across the city at night with Momo behind her. She knew she should have alerted the Gotei first, but when she had sensed it, the presence of multiple arrancar, she had reacted immediately, almost instinctively. The arrancar, these new creations of Aizen, were bound to be dangerous. People could- no, would die if they did not act quickly, and every second mattered.
Thankfully, she could sense Uryu, Tatsuki and Chad already on their way, closing in almost as quickly as she was. She disliked the idea of putting children like them in harm's way, but there was nothing for it- she had to trust them to fight, because with the signatures she could count, which were well over six, she'd need every fighter she could get her hands on. As they closed in, they came upon a city park, deserted at this time. By a field, they were waiting. Fortunately, the three teenagers arrived almost simultaneously, and the arrancar all seemed content to wait, baleful, hungry grins on their faces.
Wait- she could sense Ichigo too, coming this way, but... slowly. Why hadn't she felt him before? Why did he seem so... weak?
No matter. She carefully set down Orihime, quickly ordered her to stay put, and boldly stepped forward. She had at least sent an urgent request to undo the Limit Release Seal; fighting all of these monsters at a fifth of her power was an unappealing prospect, even if she was backed up by her vice-captain.
There were ten of them, she saw as she walked forward to meet them. The moon shone down as the clouds parted, and she could make out their features a little better now. Some were tall, some short; some fat, some skinny. Each and every one of them could have passed for human, if not for the hole each one of them sported somewhere on their body. She was filled with revulsion as she came closer. They radiated power, sinister and malicious like that of a hollow, but so much... sleeker. It was like walking into the mouth of a wolf's den, where the wolves had all turned into werewolves.
"In the name of the Gotei Thirteen," Erza said authoritatively, "I demand you all surrender immediately. Throw down your arms and submit to our rule. You will be treated humanely. You have my word on that as Captain Erza Scarlet of Fifth Division."
There was a ring of laughter as she spoke, and even their leader let out a long, wheezing chuckle. He took a step forward, and Erza put a hand on her blade. Momo was close behind, and did as much herself.
"Hear that, boys?" said the leading arrancar. "We'll be treated humanely!"
There was a roar of laughter again.
"Yeah, sounds like a fair deal," said the leader, and chuckled some more. "Three hots and a cot, right? All safe and secure."
"I will not warn you twice," said Erza stubbornly. "Surrender, or face the consequences."
"Only problem is," continued the leader, as if she hadn't spoken at all, "we ain't human at all. We're still hollow. And you, weakling bitch, are standing here offering us mercy. This is why your lot is doomed. We don't stand around waiting. We act."
"Then, act," Erza goaded him. She had had no expectations it would work, but something in her felt that, on the infinitesimally small chance that it could work, giving them a chance was... right.
"Ya really don't remember me, do ya?" said the leader.
Erza narrowed her eyes and looked at him. His chest was bare, a long cloak and pants being the only clothing he seemed to have bothered with. A triangular mask fragment pointed down his forehead, running down to between his eyebrows. He had long, blond, wild hair and a malicious glare. He reminded her of a wild animal, which, of course, was not far from the truth. But nothing about him seemed familiar.
Around her, she could sense the others making ready, and shot a quick glance sideways, spotting Uryu and Chad advancing, Tatsuki already having charged; Ichigo, short of breath, arriving late.
She shouldn't have done it. The moment she looked away, the arrancar dashed forward, so quickly, and Erza only barely drew her blade. Before she could react, he had slammed a fist upward into her gut. As the air was knocked out of her lungs, she wished she had taken the time to bring her armour. She was sent flying up into the air, pain radiating from where she had been hit, with the arrancar hot on her trail.
But the pain was nothing exceptional. As the initial surprise wore off, she regained her focus. She halted her upward free-fall, stopping herself some forty yards into the air, and assumed a stance. The arrancar came on, hitting hard and fast, but she parried his first blow and dodged the second with relative ease.
He was a brute; that was plain to see. He was no fool; his movements were well controlled, those of an experienced predator, but he had no formal training of any kind. Even so, the strength alone was more than enough to hurt her, particularly with the majority of her power sealed away. This was tremendous raw power of a kind she hadn't imagined. If a simpleton like this had gained this much power, how much would that mean an adjuchas had? Or a vasto lorde?
He came at her again, fists balled, and Erza set into a series of dodges and evasions as they began their deadly dance in the sky. The arrancar slammed both fists down on her, and Erza held her blade up. To her surprise, both of his arms simply ground against the edge of her blade, not so much as dented.
"Hierro," said the arrancar gleefully. "Skin thick as steel. Didn't see that coming, did ya?"
He batted her blade aside, and headbutted her. Erza slid back, quickly refocusing, putting her guard up.
"Ya really don't recall, huh?" he said, chuckling like he'd just heard the funniest joke.
"What am I supposed to remember?" Erza snapped, quietly wondering how the others were faring.
"Well, to be fair, I guess I look a whole lot different," he said, and shrugged, "but here's a clue..."
He spoke, and his voice reverberated, echoing across the airspace.
"I will be your host for tonight."
Erza's eyes went wide, and her guard lowered for just a second. In that instant the hollow surged forward, surging over her and slamming a powerful kick into her shoulder. Erza tumbled downward toward the ground, barely keeping a grip on her blade.
He'd only sensed them at a distance, after the whole group had confidently blazed their energies for all to feel, and Ichigo had only then moved, hastily charging toward them. His friends were there, and some shinigami, too- he hadn't been able to tell which; his ability to sense had gone down the drain after he started taking the pills. It was only as he arrived at the scene, last on site after Orihime, Tatsuki, Chad, and Uryu, that he saw it was Erza. Normally it would have made him elated, but he had no time to feel. No sooner had he arrived than a tall, ugly, burly arrancar came bearing down on him, a thick blade in hand. It swung its weapon like a club, but Ichigo could still do little more than keep up. This was strength of a kind he'd never faced before, and weakened as he was, he lacked the ability to do much more than parry.
Thankfully, his superior swordsmanship started to tell. The clumsy, overt movements of his opponent were easy to read, and before long he found an opening, dashing in under a wide swing, cutting hard with Zangetsu, whose shikai he had already loosened before even coming to the scene itself. However, the blade simply didn't take. It tore through the arrancar's shirt, but the skin itself felt like rubber, impossible to cut.
"Ouchie!" the arrancar said, laughing. It lashed out with a backhand, sending Ichigo tumbling. "Look, now ya messed up my new clothes, ya little prick!"
Desperate not to find himself in the same hopeless situation as last time, Ichigo rolled up to his feet, and just barely got upright before the monster came at him again, forcing him back. It rained down hard, heavy blows on him, and Ichigo nearly went on his knees again. He felt frustration race through his mind. This was a powerful beast, but not so powerful he couldn't normally overcome it.
If only I had my powers, he thought angrily to himself. If only it wasn't for this fucking hollow in my head!
The arrancar body-slammed him, ignoring Zangetsu's edge which slid harmlessly off its gut, and Ichigo nearly lost his balance again. Mustering all the power he could, he counter-attacked, stabbing forward. The tip of the blade hit home, just barely piercing the skin of the monster, drawing a little bit of blood.
"Pathetic," said the arrancar. It grabbed Zangetsu in its palm. It tugged, pulling Ichigo in closer, and slammed the hilt of his own blade into Ichigo's face. The shinigami, seeing stars, staggered back, and another blow only barely parried knock him off his feet. The arrancar let out a triumphant howl, and raised its blade in both hands for a devastating attack, one Ichigo knew he was in no position to avoid. The blade struck, and Ichigo only barely avoided dying as it raked against his Zangetsu. He could feel something snap, and realised his arm had broken. One more hit, and he was done for. The monster raised its sword again...
But as the blade came down again, a triangular shield, transparent and orange, blocked the strike with ease.
"Shiten Koushun!"
It was Orihime, stepping forward with a confident look on her face.
"Please stand back, Ichigo," she said determinedly, and Ichigo would have gaped if he weren't already emotionally overcharged. The creature was so much bigger than her, so strong, and every inch of him cried out to protect her, to help her- but here he was, helpless and needing her to protect him.
Tatsuki had no sooner assumed a stance than a short, skinny arrancar had come at her with his zanpakutou. He was wiry, tough, and very, very fast. His blade was short, no longer than a wakizashi. With her staff, Tatsuki held up well enough, though. She hopped back from a wide horizontal cut and retaliated with a quick thrust of her weapon, the staff's end slamming into the evolved hollow's forehead. He took the hit without so much as a grunt, but his stride had been broken.
He was strong, all right, and tough, but Tatsuki remembered the Soul Society, and so far he wasn't much worse than most of the officers she'd fought. Remembering the frustration, the humiliation of uselessness and defeat, she grit her teeth and pressed her advantage, rapidly thrusting her weapon. The arrancar's skin, hard and tough, absorbed most of the damage, but he was nevertheless forced on the defensive. Hammering down precisely, with merciless expertise, Tatsuki was relentless. It was all about creating that one opening...
There it was. It was for just the blink of an eye, but he had left himself exposed, his blade on the wrong side. Tatsuki lashed out with a kick, catching his left knee joint. The arrancar finally let out a grunt of pain as his knee cap slammed into the ground, and Tatsuki quickly followed up with a heavy wallop with the side of her staff, the force of her strike slamming his head sideways and knocking him over. Charging her power, channeling it into the staff, Tatsuki let out a loud battle cry and slammed it down, right onto where the solar plexus would be on a normal human being. Tough though his skin was, the blunt force of her weapon seemed to do the trick; he coughed and hacked, his arms spasming.
Refusing to let up even with her opponent on the ground, Tatsuki raised her weapon for another strike, but the arrancar quickly lashed out. Sensing a burst of energy a microsecond before it discharged, Tatsuki jumped back, and a ball of red energy missed her head by less than an inch. She warily assumed a stance.
The arrancar wheezed, jumping to his feet nimbly. He shot her a malignant glare, then smiled wickedly. His face was framed by stripy, black hair, and Tatsuki thought of a rat- a cornered, dangerous rat.
"You're pretty damn rude, you humans," he said, sizing her up. "I didn't even get a chance to introduce myself."
"You struck first, remember?" Tatsuki said, watching for the slightest move.
"I am Terkan Atzulo," said the hollow, "and I gotta say, you're pretty good. For a human. My fault for thinking it'd take a couple seconds before I could get to eating your soul."
"That thing you just did," said Tatsuki cautiously, ignoring the 'praise', "what the hell was that?"
"A little trick us arrancar got," he said pridefully, "just a bit of bala. Like a cero, but faster."
"The hell's a cero?"
"You'll see-"
And mid-sentence, he disappeared, reappearing behind her back. Tatsuki had been able to sense his movement, partly just anticipating that he'd go for something as ruthless as a back-stab, and spun around just in time, her staff thrusting out to catch him. Her weapon only caught air, however, as the arrancar halted its attack, skipping back.
"Good reflexes," he taunted her, "but it won't save you."
He sheathed his blade. Using both hands, he flicked several bala at her in quick succession. Tatsuki nimbly dodged and evaded, the red balls of energy missing their mark, but Terkan had already moved back using some quick-step technique much like the shunpo Tatsuki had seen shinigami use. Some ten yards back, he began a quick dash encircling her, lobbing one bala after another at her. She launched herself into the air, pole-vaulting over and toward him, but he'd already moved back, laughing as he went.
"You can't catch me, can you?" he said mockingly, charging two new blasts in his hands. "You're just a human, after all!"
"Why don't you stop being a coward and fight me head-on?!" Tatsuki called out defiantly. Terkan did not bite, though, laughing again.
"Coward? You don't know hollows at all, do you? You do what you can to win. Cowardice, bravery, honour, dishonour... that bullshit is meaningless to us!"
Tatsuki grit her teeth, dodging under another set of red orbs launched in rapid succession. The fact that he was resorting to rapid ranged attacks after failing to defeat her up close meant, if nothing else, that he was afraid to fight her up close. The problem was that he didn't have to. It was true; although her powers had made her faster than any normal human, she had not yet learned any technique to match the kind of blinding speed of an arrancar or shinigami. She had to get up close somehow.
She pivoted out of the way of another three shots, one scorching her side as it went past. She didn't know how strong these were, whether a single hit would kill her or just sting a bit, and she didn't want to find out.
She had to try something. Quickly she channelled a bit of power into her legs, bursting forward in three quick leaps. The landscape around her turned into a blur, taking her some forty yards in a couple seconds, and her muscles cramped with pain as she did it. She surged past Terkan, who laughed again, reappearing with ease some five yards in front of her.
"It's like watching a baby chicken stumble around," he said gleefully. "It's kind of adorable. Maybe I'll rape you before I kill you."
Tatsuki snarled, surging forward, but he laughed again and dashed away, sending a rapid burst of bala at her that she barely twisted herself out of the way of.
Think! He was faster than her, yes. A lot faster, and right now, she couldn't count on anyone to help her- there were a lot of enemies, and if they were all this strong, her allies would all have their hands full. She wouldn't let it happen again. She wouldn't let herself lose, having to be bailed out by somebody else. She had to pull her weight. She had to.
She dodged low, a set of shots passing over her head as she nearly went into a split, instantly launching herself into the air to avoid a second burst. She growled with frustration, dashing forward again. Her body ached with the exertion, and she knew just putting extra energy into various parts of her body was at best ineffective, and at worst dangerous. Charging forward like a bull, she nearly hit a tree, hearing the mocking laughter of her opponent again.
"It's like a bull fight!" he cried gleefully. "Yes, go on! Tire yourself out! We got all night, you and I. All night."
Tatsuki shook her head, then took a hard dash left to avoid a series of bala. The projectiles weren't so fast she couldn't consistently evade them, which was always something, but the arrancar showed no sign of stopping. Evading, dodging, she was trapped in a cycle she had no way out of, like a mouse being toyed with by a cat.
No, she thought to herself, as she dodged yet another set of shots, you're going about this all wrong. Don't try and brute force it. Don't fight like you're Ichigo. You're smarter than that. He's got the advantage, and we can't beat that, so... we have to think of something else.
Suddenly she slowed down. A bala hit her, slamming into one end of her staff, the physical force of the projectile nearly knocking her over, causing her to stagger.
"And he scores!" cried Terkan cheerfully, advancing closer, sending out another burst. Tatsuki panted, and dodged again, evading the projectiles one by one. She was moving more slowly now, tiring out. His eyes aglow with malevolent glee, Terkan moved closer, drawing his blade again.
"Don't you worry," he said. "Even if it just took you a few minutes to wear out, I can still keep this going all night if I want..."
He dashed forward, and Tatsuki let out a cry, thrusting her staff at his head. Terkan laughed again, appearing behind her. She swept at his chest, but he easily stepped out of the way. Letting out a loud, frustrated cry, she charged, but her attacks were slow, clumsy.
"You really can't handle it, can you?" he said happily. "Let me show you the difference between us!"
He went into a dash again, circling around her rapidly. Tatsuki looked at him carefully.
"At the end of the day," he cried triumphantly, "you're really just a pathetic little human who got her hands on a little bit of power and-"
His boast was cut short as Tatsuki surged out, power channeled into one arm, catching him in a lariat. Her arm caught his neck, and it hurt, badly, but even more so for Terkan. He gracelessly slammed into the ground, letting out little gurgles, his limbs twitching and trembling. With some effort she took the staff in one hand, and raised it up. Her other hand was going numb, and she realised it had to have broken.
Battles weren't just about how you fought, but also about how you thought. It had been all too easy for the arrancar to think he was winning. It had been all too easy for him to believe that's why Tatsuki had taken that hit that it was because she was tiring out. It had been all too easy to get a rough estimate on where he was when he'd gotten confident enough to go closer in, even going as quickly as he was. She hadn't been fast enough to catch up to him, but in the end, she hadn't had to.
"You were saying how honour, bravery, and all that was just bullshit, weren't you?" she growled. "Well, you should have added arrogance and predictability to the list!"
She thrust the staff down, charging it with as much energy as she dared, and hit him square in the neck. Her power connected, detonating with tremendous force, and although his skin remained unbroken she could hear his bones snap. The arrancar lay still on the ground, eyes rolling back up into his skull. Tatsuki grimaced to herself. She'd have to find Orihime- she was hardly in a state to fight, the way she was now.
The black and light red of Chad's weapon had encompassed his arm the moment he stepped into view of the arrancar before him, and he knew he would soon get quite some use of Brazo Derecha del Gigante, the armoured arm that was his weapon. He felt some trepidation as he stepped forward, confronted by an arrancar almost as tall as himself. He knew his friends thought of him as fearless because of his calm, stoic nature and muscular frame, but truth be told, he'd have been a fool not to feel a little fear. The monster in front of him represented the newest, deadliest breed of hollows in Aizen's service, and if he would be part of the conflict to come, this wasn't the last fight he'd face.
But the difference between bravery and cowardice is not whether or not you feel fear, but whether or not you let it rule you. Making a fist, he stepped forward.
"Bold," commented the arrancar, sounding unimpressed. He had sand-brown hair, and aside from a thin, sleek hollow mask fragment running across his left cheek, he looked unassuming and unremarkable.
"I am Sado Yasutora," said Chad quietly, letting his energy surge. "Please leave this town immediately."
"Slavoj Vilnik," said the hollow, and pulled his blade out in one smooth motion, "and no, I'm not going anywhere. Show me what you got, big boy."
Chad did not run, but advanced forward in long, confident strides, raising his balled fist. He let out a loud battle cry and struck the hollow with all his might. Slavoj blocked, putting his free hand at the back of his blade, digging his heels into the ground. Nevertheless, the force of Chad's punch sent him sliding back slowly, dirt spraying up around the arrancar's soles.
"Not bad, not bad," said the monster with a grin. "You got an arm on you, I'll give ya that."
Chad did not reply. He was not one for banter. Instead he struck again, aiming to break his opponent's defense, but he only struck air. Nimbly Slavoj had pivoted out of the way, and quickly he sliced his blade at Chad, its edge raking against the teenager's side. Chad felt the biting pain as it cut through his shirt and drew blood; it was a small injury, but it hurt all the same. Disregarding it, Chad pushed forward, throwing one punch after another as quickly as he could manage.
With contemptuous ease the arrancar dodged, evaded, and parried, nimbly avoiding each hit. Chad focused, trying his hardest, but it was clear the arrancar's agility far outpaced his own.
Then, there it was. A missed punch, stretching just a little too far, and suddenly he felt the white-hot sensation of a blade on his skin, the zanpakutou raking across his chest. Fresh blood flowed down Chad's body, soiling his shirt with its redness.
"What's the matter, big fella?" said Slavoj mockingly. "All outta juice already?"
Chad took a step back, carefully gauging his opponent. His strength seemed to lie with his speed, which was a poor fit for the brute strength Chad relied upon. Nevertheless, he wasn't so fast Chad couldn't keep up...
Deciding to hang back and let the arrancar come to him, he assumed a defensive stance. Slavoj obliged him, charging in with a lightning-fast series of attacks. He cut rapidly, horizontally, vertically; he stabbed and thrust and slashed and hacked, Chad just barely managing to parry the blows raining down on his armoured arm.
"Come on, come on!" cried Slavoj. "Let's see how thick that hide of yours is!"
Gleefully he pressed his advantage, and Chad could do little besides defend. The arrancar was confident now, constantly trying the muscular teenager's defense, sometimes going low to hit his legs, sometimes higher up. In a battle like this, Chad knew, there was no winning.
Suddenly Chad surged forward, catching a vicious blow on his armoured arm, and slamming his other fist into the arrancar's face. It hurt- the arrancar's skin was thick and tough- but nevertheless it caused the monster to stagger. Quickly, Chad backhanded him, causing Slavoj to lose his balance. But nimble as he was, he rolled back up onto his feet, and before Chad could press his advantage the arrancar had put distance between the two of them.
"I gotta give it to ya, I didn't see that coming," he said, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth. "Not bad, kid."
Chad flexed the fingers on his bare hand; they hurt in a way he knew he'd feel days from now, and he quietly felt grateful he hadn't broken anything. He raised his armoured arm, and gestured with his fingers for the arrancar to come again.
"Now, that's just cocky," said Slavoj disapprovingly. "Do you think that'll work twice?"
Even so he came at the teenager again, sword swinging with vicious quickness- but, Chad noticed, with more caution than before. He was not a swordsman, himself, but Chad suspected the hollow was not as well versed with a blade as he'd first seemed. Aggressively Chad blocked the first cut with a forward thrust of his black arm, trying his damnedest not to get pushed back again.
He who sets the pace of the battle usually wins, a voice echoed in his head. The training he'd received from Urahara Kisuke before leaving for the Soul Society was making itself reminded, and he was grateful for it.
If your enemy has an advantage you cannot match, play to your strengths.
Chad wouldn't be able to match Slavoj's agility and speed. But likewise, he suspected the arrancar would not be able to match his strength and endurance. What, then? How did he take advantage of that?
Create a situation where it's useful. Don't stand around, waiting to be killed.
The question was just how he'd go about that.
He dodged under a thrust aimed at his eye that instead sheared some hairs off his head. His life was at stake here, he knew; one misstep could be fatal.
Suddenly Slavoj surged forward, one powerful swing coming down from above. Chad blocked it with relative ease, the blade grinding against his arm with little effect. However, he realized too late it was just a feint. The arrancar thrust his palm forward, toward Chad's gut, and suddenly the teenager felt like he'd been kicked by a mule. His chest burned, and he staggered back.
"Bala aren't crazy strong," said Slavoj contentedly, "but the thing is, you can fire them almost instantly. Ain't that useful?"
With that, he surged forward. Chad, in shock from the pain, struggled to parry, and the blade smoothly sailed under his guard, impaling his chest halfway toward the hilt. He gasped.
"And that... is that," said Slavoj. "Good one, kid-"
Snarling, Chad lashed out with Brazo Derecha del Gigante, and Slavoj pulled away, sword pulling out of the wound, just barely avoiding a direct hit.
"You're a tough bastard, huh?"
Breathing heavily, Chad assumed a stance. He was hurt now, badly- just how badly, he didn't know; he didn't want to know. It wasn't over till it was over, though, not until he stopped breathing. Fists up, he waited for his opponent to make his move. The arrancar did not wait long, surging forward confident of his victory. Chad parried his strikes, but moved more slowly now, feeling the pain of his new injury with every movement. This could not go on.
Create a situation that benefits you.
Chad recalled a lesson he'd learned in school a long time ago. A man named William of Ockham had, centuries ago, posited that the hypothesis with the fewest assumptions attached to it was the most likely to be true. Or, to simplify it, the simplest answer was usually the truest.
Chad wasn't especially fast. He wasn't an expert in martial arts. He was only starting out in learning his abilities. But, he was strong.
Quickly he jumped back, putting some space between himself and his attacker, and let his reiatsu surge, power flooding into his armoured arm.
"Running away won't save you, coward," Slavoj sneered. Blade aimed for a deadly stab, he surged forward again.
Who was running away?
As the arrancar came in closer, Chad raised his fist up high. If he tried to strike the arrancar, he would be parried. But, if he didn't try to strike it...
Bellowing out loud, his voice rumbling out from the depths of his lungs and through his mouth with all the force his vocal chords could muster, he cried, "ORA!"
The fist came down, slamming into the ground just as Slavoj came within two feet of Chad, just within striking range. The arrancar's sneer, gleeful at what looked like a clumsy, premature attack, quickly wiped off its face as the shockwave ruptured the ground around them. Chad had braced himself, ready for what felt like a localized earthquake, but Slavoj was unprepared. On the rumbling, cracked ground he was thrown off his feet, landing on his back like a flipped-over tortoise. Chad took a moment to stabilize himself- the impact had nearly knocked him off his feet, as well- and charged forward as quickly as he could manage. The arrancar was already getting to his feet, but it was too late. Chad's normal arm surged out, and he felt a huge pang of relief as it closed around the wrist of Slavoj's sword arm. The arrancar tugged, struggling to break free, but Chad pulled hard, stretching the arm out straight. He raised Brazo Derecha del Gigante again and slammed it straight down on the arrancar's forearm. He was rewarded with a gratifying crunch as bone cracked and splintered under the impact of his arm.
"Damn it! Let go, you son of a whore!" snarled Slavoj, his voice shrill with pain. He lashed out with his uninjured arm, punching Chad in the face, rapidly striking at him- but without focus, with the ferocity of a panicking animal. Chad quickly let go of the wrist, and grabbed Slavoj by the neck instead, squeezing him. With one hand alone, he lifted the twitching, floundering hollow off the ground.
"I'm sorry," he said determinedly, "but I can't hold back on this one."
He raised the armoured arm, and there was panic in Slavoj's eyes as Chad slowly made a fist, one finger after another. He thrashed and struggled, clawing at Chad's arm, but the teenager held firm. Power surged through the armoured arm.
Chad slammed his fist into the arrancar's chest as hard as he could, all the built-up energy surging into Slavoj's body with explosive force, all but liquefying his insides. His spine shattered immediately, and within seconds his struggles had turned into lame death throes.
Chad let go of the corpse, which fell limp to the ground, and took a deep breath. He had been lucky. There was no other way to describe it. His opponent had gotten careless, and he'd grasped victory from there. And now... now, he needed to make sure he didn't bleed to death.
Baffled, Ichigo watched Orihime easily move out of the way of the first strike, striking back at her opponent as her orange, glowing staff formed. The attack did little to phase the arrancar, seeming like an impossibly strong mass of fat and muscle compared to the lithe form of the girl challenging it.
"You're even more pathetic than that kid," scoffed the arrancar. "You think a weak little bitch like you can take on the great Sargan Moline?"
He threw a punch aimed at Orihime's head, but she dodged out of the way with ease. The beast followed up with a deceptively quick jab, but Orihime cried, "Koten Zanshun!"
Just in time, the triangular shield formed, withstanding the impact.
"Pfah!" blustered the arrancar. "If that's it, you're gonna be a piece of cake."
He struck the shield once, twice, and it broke, but Orihime had already moved back.
Feeling the pain of his broken arm, Ichigo desperately wished to help. He was weak, sluggish, and couldn't hold his blade properly- but just watching her fight for him, just doing nothing as she took on such a strong enemy, it felt deeply wrong.
Orihime was not doing poorly, though. Each swing Sargan threw so far had missed, Orihime dodging each punch with a look of focus and determination on her face. She dodged under yet another swing, a horizontal right hook, and stood right next to it.
Before Ichigo could do more than gape, she cried, "Souten Kisshun!"
What was she thinking? That ability was meant to heal!
The shield enveloped the arrancar's arm, and suddenly Orihime punched it. The shield broke, and to Ichigo's surprise- and Sargan's- his arm suddenly twisted, becoming malformed, bone seeming to jut out where it shouldn't. It hung limp by his side.
Outraged, he cried, "You bitch, what the hell did you do?" He swung at her, but she evaded, putting space between them.
"I'm not very strong," Orihime said stubbornly, "but that doesn't mean I can't handle you. Please leave, or I will have to hurt you."
"Hurt me? Hurt me?" snarled Sargan. He raised his good arm, throwing a quick, hard punch. "Bitch, I'll rip your arms and legs off one by one!"
Orihime took a step back out of the way and erected a triangular shield. The arrancar impotently bashed against it in a fit of rage. Ichigo gaped. What the hell had he just seen her do? She was absolutely manhandling that creature- by all means stronger and faster than her.
"It'll be okay, Ichigo," said Orihime, as if having read his thoughts. "I'll finish it in a second."
The shield broke, and Sargan came charging through like a bull. Orihime focused, held up her staff, and declared, "Koten Zanshun!"
From the tip of her weapon a flash of red surged out, hitting the arrancar's shoulder. It passed straight through, and a second later there was a shower of blood as a hole wide enough to see through was gouged in the monster's body. Sargan groaned with pain and staggered, sinking down to one knee.
Quickly, Orihime stepped forward and cried, "Souten Kisshun!" Sargan's good arm was enveloped in the orange barrier. Orihime punched it, just like before. As the barrier broke, his second arm twisted and became limp, a wretched parody of a human limb.
"You... you bitch..." groaned the arrancar, breathing heavily.
"Please don't make a fuss, mister," said Orihime firmly. "You've lost, so don't make it worse on yourself."
"Damn you!"
Orihime didn't listen to his curses, and turned her back, moving toward Ichigo. But before she had taken more than a few steps, Sargan got up to his feet, struggling. Despite the copious amount of blood he was losing, despite his grievous injury and useless arms, he got up and took a step forward, breaking into a furious run.
"Orihime, look out!" Ichigo cried, knowing it would be too late. Despite himself, he struggled to get up on his feet, to bring his sword to bear again. Orihime turned around, shock in her eyes as the arrancar barreled down on her. She wanted to call out the name of her weapon, but he was too close-
Then suddenly, like a tiny bolt of lightning, Hinamori Momo struck the monster's side with the force of a cannonball, disrupting his charge. Sargan staggered, barely remaining upright. With a furious look on her face, Momo grasped her blade with both hands and surged forward, her zanpakutou striking true, cutting through his mask fragment and going into his skull for good measure.
"N-no-" he gargled, raising a malformed hand. A determined look on her face, Momo wrenched her blade free, and raised her hand.
"Shakkahou," she said, and the red ball of fire impacted his face almost point blank. Sargan fell over on his back, his body already beginning to dissolve. Arrancar or regular hollow, a zanpakutou's edge would still purge your soul, it seemed.
Momo quickly turned to Orihime and Ichigo.
"Are you two okay?"
"S-sure..." Orihime said, a bit shaken up. Ichigo, feeling much the same, simply nodded.
"Listen very carefully," said Momo strictly. "These may look human, but don't let that fool you. They're more dangerous than anything you've ever fought. If you're going to be on the battlefield, don't let yourself get killed by being merciful. Purge your enemy. Do not let it live. These are hollows, not people, and they would kill you in a heartbeat- or worse. Is that clear?"
"Y-yes," Orihime stuttered.
"Good," Momo said and nodded. "Take care of your friend, and see what you can do to assist."
With that, Momo dashed off to engage yet another arrancar, leaving Orihime to tend to Ichigo's wounds.
Teenagers. Momo scoffed to herself as she ran toward the closest hollow signature, sword in hand. There was an absurd contradiction in this- these children were stronger than most academy graduates, for whatever reason, but they didn't possess an iota of the experience and battle-readiness a person needed to serve on the front lines. It was pure luck she'd spotted Orihime in time, pure luck she had been able to break away. What would she have told Erza if she had been a second too late?
There was no further time to think as an arrancar came into view, dashing forward with unnatural speed to meet her in battle. Blade already drawn, it came in with a clumsy stab. Momo parried, dashing past it, and aimed her palm back. The runes on her body came aglow as a stored spell discharged, a soukatsui prepared for quick firing. The flame fired, and Momo spun around on the spot, knowing it could not have missed at this distance. To her surprise, though, the hollow remained standing, a grin on its face. It was short, roughly the same size as herself, with brown-reddish hair and two long bone fragments framing the bottom of a face that, if not for the malevolent glee, could have been called handsome. Cautiously, Momo took a defensive stance.
"Yer fast, I'll give you that," said the arrancar. "I'm Rubin Twarlt, and you... well, I know a shinigami when I see one. Vice-captain, eh?"
Momo's eyes narrowed. Aizen was bound to have informed his troops, and some of them paid attention, it seemed. She raised her arm, palm upturned.
"Shakkahou!"
The arrancar didn't even try to dodge, and the spell impacted fully on his chest. To Momo's surprise, though, the red orb simply sizzled out in a way she hadn't known it to do since her earliest days in kido class. The arrancar's skin seemed unharmed, except for a slight trace of soot.
"See, I'm special," sneered the hollow. "Had a doc cut me up and put all sorts o' funny drugs into me. Turns out that makes me hard to hurt with that magic of yours. Ain't that something?"
Deciding not to give up so easily, Momo raised her hand again, pointing two fingers at his head.
"Byakurai!"
The lightning surged out, true and well-practiced, only to lose power as it struck the target, achieving little more than lightly knocking his head back.
"Ouch," said the arrancar jokingly. "Watch out, you'll mess up my hairdo."
Carefully, Momo grasped her sword with both hands, staring down her opponent, trying to think of a new strategy. Whatever the case, her strongest asset- her kidou- seemed to be all but useless in this scenario. She was given no further time to ponder the situation, as Rubin surged forward, blade held in one hand. Laughing wickedly, he came at her like a bull, swinging his blade wildly.
Momo slipped into a defensive pattern, taking a few steps back as the arrancar's mindless charge struck her. She was focused, a chill creeping up her spine. What was she to do?
But as he came at her, as she continually parried his attacks, she realised his attacks weren't hitting- not even close. As time passed, one strike after another, it sunk in. Of course. Zanpakutou or not, these were still hollows, and their swords were bound to be new to them. Momo, having passed five years of academy training and with a long career as an officer to boot, was more than a match for such clumsy swordplay.
The only problem was his power. He was strong and fast, and Momo had no clue how to appropriately fight a foe like this. An idea came to mind. She caught his blade, Tobiume's edge grinding against the arrancar's blade. He grinned, pushing against her with considerable strength. No, a battle of pure muscle wasn't one she should enter- but he was wrong to think she was. Quickly, knowing she had but a second to work with, she took one hand off her blade and aimed her palm down, just behind Rubin's leg.
"Shakkahou!" she cried, and kido energy rapidly built up, firing a concentrated blast down into the ground.
"You dumb bit-" the arrancar started, but was cut off as the impact knocked him off the feet, dirt spraying into the air. Momo had charged the blast very carefully, making sure not to make it too powerful, but it had nevertheless been a risk to fire it so close to herself. Luckily, it had paid off. The arrancar was sent tumbling forward, nearly knocking her over in the process.
"Just like I thought," she said out loud. "You can resist kido, but indirect damage? That's just a physical phenomenon acting as a secondary result of kido."
"You think you're smart, bitch?" Rubin snarled, hopping to his feet.
"Yes," Momo said plainly.
"I'll show you smart, you uppity shinigami piece of shit!" he snarled, all mirth gone as he charged headlong, still stumbling from his recovery. Momo looked carefully, predicting his movement pattern, and raised her blade, hilt up to her shoulders, its point aiming directly at Rubin. He came at her with a wide swing, one that would surely have taken off her head from her shoulders- but Momo took a step back, easily avoiding the cut, and stabbed her blade forward. Rubin gurgled, his blade dropping to the ground as he clutched at his throat. Momo's blade had become lodged between his cervical vertebrae, severing the bones that attached his neck to his spine, the sword having run halfway through his throat. A helpless look of terror on his face, he clawed at Tobiume, cutting his fingers in vain against its edge.
Momo pulled the blade free, and with one quick motion sliced her blade through his mask fragment. He would have screamed, she could tell, but he was already choking on his own blood. He sunk to his knees, then fell over as he began to dissolve, purified like the hollow he was.
Sometimes, he just had no luck. Uryu had charged in with a hail of arrows, wounding an arrancar within seconds. However, the massive output of damage streaming from his bow, hundreds of arrows per minute, had drawn the attention of not just the arrancar he had shot and wounded, but three of its compatriots, as well. Hollows were cowards, he knew that well enough, and would band up in packs to destroy their enemies if they needed to. These were no ordinary hollows, though; that much had become clear within seconds. Uryu's hirenkyaku had been tested to its limits almost immediately, as the four charged him all at once. Unlike an ordinary hollow, easy to avoid and fire at on the run, these were almost as fast as they were powerful, and frighteningly well-coordinated. Alone, he would outpace any one of them, but as soon as he had evaded one, another would come at him from the side, from behind, from above, each taking turns to chase him. This was a long game, he realized; they were confident enough in their strength to try to tire him before they went in for the kill, like a pack of wolves. Inwardly, he cursed. His speed had taken him several hundred yards away from the others already, his only concern being survival, avoiding that one fatal hit, and now he was isolated- alone, against four enemies which he had little opportunity of besting.
Back in the olden days, his grandfather had taught him, quincies would operate in teams just to avoid such an occasion. There would be people to cover each other, strategies to counter such cunning devilry. But here tonight he was alone, fighting for his life. Dared he hope for help? Who would come and find him in time? Nobody in their group sensed better than he, and the minutes it would take could be fatal- and that's assuming everybody first won their fights without dying or taking serious injury. His father? He would be asleep in his bed, and Uryu wasn't sure he'd even come.
No, he was alone tonight, and if he wanted to live, he had to figure this out. Desperately, he fired a stream of shots at the closest arrancar. The hail of arrows distracted it, sending it off its trail, but immediately another came into its place. Uryu dashing to the side of a tree, the second arrancar collided with the trunk, but the third and fourth were already on his trail. For a moment he wondered if the cover of dark in the park's forest would help- but then he remembered that Hueco Mundo, home realm of the hollows, was a realm of eternal night. Whether through sight, smell, or other senses, it would not slow them down. Would he take flight? With nothing to dash against, he'd be a sitting duck for any ranged attacks they had. Come on, think! Think!
Then it happened. In the dark, he saw the tree branch a second too late. He felt pain as his arm slammed against it, and he lost his balance, tumbling to the ground. Almost panicking, he managed to turn his fall into a roll, rising rapidly to his feet, blindly firing a hail of arrows to the back of him. An angered groan told him he hadn't missed every shot, but it was too late. A fist found its mark, slamming into his side, and Uryu tumbled over the forest floor into a glade. Like a cornered animal, he tried to get to his feet, his reptile brain now completely in charge- run run run run run get away run run- but it was too late. He was surrounded. He took another hit, he couldn't tell from where, and fell to the ground. He crawled, desperate to get away, but it wouldn't work.
"Let's get 'im, boys," said a malicious, deep voice.
So, this was it, then? Strong arms grabbed him, and he knew-
Then, suddenly, he was let go. As he scrambled to his feet, he adjusted his spectacles, which had nearly fallen off. He blinked. In the moonlight he could see one of the arrancar tumble over, quite headless, the three others having taken a step back, nervous and cautious.
"See," said a voice, distinctly female, "usually it's the charming prince that dashes in to save the maiden fair, right?"
She stepped into the pale moonlight, clad in armour much like Erza's but more ornate, a striking figure cloaked and wearing a tabard with the quincy cross. Uryu stared, mesmerized.
"Only I ain't charming, and you ain't a prince. So, it evens out. A real postmodern fairy tale, this."
What?
Contrary to his son's pessimistic expectations, Ryuken was all too aware of the troubles at the park. He had always been a light sleeper, and although he had rejected the quincy life, his senses had never grown dull. He had sensed Uryu as he began his foolish attack, insistent as he was in meddling, and he had sensed things going awry. Grumbling, he had gotten out of bed, dressed himself, and walked out the front door to meet his cousin, who was- of course- noticeably upset if the structure of her reiatsu was any judge. The way she fretted over business best left alone...
"We need to go. Right now," she said the words urgently. Ryuken, who had meant to do much the same, felt reluctant to do as she asked without protest. To give the impression that he would care to dip his nose into spiritual business easily would go against a long-held principle of resentment that he had built most of his life on.
"Why?" he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. "Your son isn't there. My idiot son is off doing things he shouldn't. This is neither of our business."
"You know you do not mean that!" Masaki scolded him. "I know Ichigo isn't there, I can't sense him- wherever he is, he should be safe, but... Uryu isn't."
"He chose this path."
"He's a child! A teenager. We do not expect young people to make reasonable choices. Now, go out there and do as a father should, Ryuken!"
Ryuken, deciding that he had protested enough, rolled his eyes. "Well, if it means that much to you..."
"It would seem that it does, son of Ishida Souken."
The voice was smooth, elegant but with a masculine depth to it. Ryuken's eyes narrowed as a figure stepped forward from the shadows of the street. He was sure he had felt nothing nearby, so who was this figure?
"Who are you?" demanded Masaki.
The stranger came up closer, only a couple yards off, and politely bowed. He was blond, and had the features of a foreigner- but his accent was almost flawless; he was no ordinary gaijin. He wore an expensive-looking dark blue suit, and carried himself with a calm that implied a complete confidence in himself.
"Let's just say that I am a concerned third party," he said cryptically.
"He's a quincy!" Ryuken sneered, the dots lining up. It was subtle, but now, face-to-face, there was no denying the pattern of the stranger's spiritual coding. Foreign and different, it was the same kind of energy his foolish father had harnessed to perfection.
"What?" said Masaki. "But, what is it you want?"
"Get behind me," Ryuken said, letting his quincy cross slide into his palm- after all these years, he always kept it close, because he never knew when he might need it.
"Please, there is no need for violence," said the stranger. "I have only come here to assure you that your son is safe."
"And we are to take your word for it?" said Ryuken harshly. He had a natural mistrust for all things quincy, and a foreigner taking an interest in his son was nothing short of suspicious.
"On my honour as a... gentleman," said the stranger calmly.
"Why are you here, then? What do you want with Uryu?" said Masaki.
"Bring him into their sick little cult, I'd wager," Ryuken spat, "keen to fix my 'mistake' of not raising him to think he's better than everyone else. Keen to pull him into danger and indoctrinate him into their self-righteous idea of justice."
The stranger shook his head.
"On the contrary, Mr. Ishida, I have complete respect for your choice to raise him outside the quincy tradition. I am familiar with your family's history, and it takes courage and integrity to reject such a heavy burden, placed on you from birth. You stepped away from an extremist sect with supremacist thinking. We have had no affiliation with them, not then, not ever. I admire the determination it must have taken to take that step. To choose to become a doctor, to save lives, rather than vainly struggle for some manifest destiny of dominion."
A little taken aback, Ryuken said, "I have no interest in your admiration, quincy. Why should I trust the word of a man who won't even give his name?"
"You will have to forgive the secrecy. Call me... Jurgen," said the stranger apprehensively.
"You haven't answered the question," Masaki insisted. "What do you want?"
"Kurosaki Masaki," said 'Jurgen', "I am familiar with your name as well. With his mother unfortunately having passed away so long ago, I imagine you are the closest thing he has. Both of your concerns are laudable as well as understandable."
"Answer," said Ryuken bluntly.
"You chose to keep him away from the spiritual," said Jurgen, "but because you never told him the full story, your son was fascinated by the quincy arts. He knew nothing of its racism, classism and ugliness. He only knew that his distant father hated it, and that his loving grandfather took pride in it. You eschewed it, but your son did not. But the boy is becoming a man, Mr. Ishida. If he so wishes, there is a rich heritage he has a right to take possession of. We will make this offer to him. We will make no demands, nor attempt to manipulate him- but he will be given what you've refused him."
"Why?" Masaki insisted. "Is it like Ryuken says? You just want another soldier in your... whatever it is you've got?"
Jurgen shook his head. "I realize you have no reason to trust my word- and secrecy, unfortunately, is a necessity for us- but you nonetheless have my word that we will only offer him knowledge of our shared past, both the admirable and the shameful, and the training to master his skills. What he chooses to do from there on will be entirely up to him."
"Why?" said Ryuken coldly. He had never been good at fathering, and he knew Uryu likely resented him- and he didn't blame him for it. But all the same, Uryu was still his son, and he had no intention of letting this... 'Jurgen' brainwash him with the exact kind of ideals he'd worked so hard to get away from.
"Because he will be a danger to himself and others," said Jurgen coolly, "because the lacklustre training he has received so far is nowhere near sufficient. Your late clan's breeding methods were reprehensible, but they yielded strong stock. Your son has inherited considerable power, but no appropriate guidance. How well does power mix with the ignorance, arrogance, and pride of a young man, Mr. Ishida?"
The argument was sound, and better than Ryuken had expected, but he was no less suspicious. He grit his teeth, glaring at the stranger.
"If you disapprove," said Jurgen, "then I suggest you take the time to talk to your son. Teach him all you know about your clan's history. Even train him, if you are so inclined. I came here to give you that chance, Mr. Ishida. To give your son his due, else we will do it in your stead. I do not judge you for your choices, but one way or the other, he deserves better."
"Ryuken," Masaki said anxiously, "is he telling the truth about Uryu being safe?"
Ryuken balled a fist, and closes his eyes, sensing from afar. "His reiatsu is fluctuating," he said, "all disordered and clumsy, but... quite intact. The energies that followed him, the hollows, seem to have moved away from him."
"Very good, Mr. Ishida," said Jurgen, giving him a nod of approval. "Even after a lifetime of retirement, your senses are almost as sharp as mine. You would have made a fine quincy."
"Don't insult me," Ryuken sneered.
"My apologies," said Jurgen. He smiled, and bowed again. "I bid you both good night. Sleep easily, for your progeny is safe." He turned around, not waiting for them to reply, and started walking away.
"And what if I just shoot you in the back?" said Ryuken irritably.
Jurgen stopped, and glanced over his shoulder at Ryuken, an amused look on his face.
"It would be very painful," he said, and continued walking.
Somehow, Ryuken got a sense that Jurgen didn't mean it would be painful for himself.
Uryu blinked, slowly catching his bearings. The three remaining arrancar were cautiously sizing up their new opponent, who for the moment seemed completely uninterested in them. She wore a helmet, Uryu could see now that the light became clearer, a face-covering helmet with a visor obscuring everything but her eyes. She held a longsword in her hand, and although everything about her reiatsu told Uryu she was a fellow quincy, she was nothing like what he had expected a fellow quincy to be.
"I gotta say, you got some pretty good schwalbenflug for a rookie with limited training," she said cheerily. "Not nearly good enough, but there's a good starting point there."
"Schwalbenflug?" said Uryu perplexedly.
"Oh, duh," said the knightly quincy, flicking her armoured forehead. "I'm just a dummy here, aren't I? You guys call it... hirenkyaku, right?"
Her pronunciation, Uryu noticed, was clear enough, but she had a pretty thick accent. A native Japanese, she was not.
"...Yeah," he said.
"Hey!" one of the arrancar cried, blade in hand.
"Ya mind?" said the knight. "We're having a conversation over here. Don't be rude."
"Listen," said a second arrancar to his two friends, "she just chopped Devrak's head off-"
"Total fluke!" the first one insisted. "Anyone can get a good sneak attack in."
Then why are you waiting around? thought Uryu.
"I say we take this bitch. Two's a better haul than one," continued the first. The knight rolled her eyes.
"Fine. I mean, I would warn you and tell you to get away, but me personally, I don't really believe in warnings. Hollow scum gets purged. Right now, you three are too dumb to take an opportunity to run away- not that it would help, but it'd gain you, like, up to ten minutes' worth of living, and you can do a lot with ten minutes- but if you really wanna die, let's get to it."
She shot Uryu a quick look. "You wait here, sweetheart. Prince Charming has some work to do."
As impressed as he was baffled by his odd, unorthodox rescuer, Uryu simply watched. He considered helping, but as the arrancar charged as one, it was evident she didn't need any help. The hunting pack formation that had given him so much trouble was nothing to her. A flurry of attacks and clever tricks came her way, and she evaded each one, smooth like water. Suddenly she jumped up and above them- and it was a queer thing to see a woman armed in full plate mail jump like an acrobat- landing on a thick tree branch.
"Don't try it, younglings!" she cried cheerily. "I have the high ground!"
The three arrancar, of course, tried it. A lean, mean arrancar leaped into the air, his two compatriots dashing to the side to surround her, coming from either side. It was difficult to even follow what happened in the next three seconds, despite Uryu's keen senses. In an instant she had surged forward through the air, and with one swift movement of her arm sliced her blade through the midsection of the arrancar in the front. Before gravity could even take effect, she had cut his head off for good measure. Like two speeding devils, the two remaining arrancar were already coming at her, one from each side. Her blade lashed out, easily piercing the right-side arrancar's guard and cutting through his neck like a hot knife through butter. With her free hand she grabbed hold of the wrist of the last arrancar, stopping him from swinging his sword. A second later, two dead arrancar hit the forest floor and a third was thrown down. Judging by the way his hand had gone limp, dropping the sword, the last arrancar had his wrist broken. The knight grabbed him by the throat, roughly pulling him up to his feet.
"We can totally take her, right?" she said, and although he couldn't see it, Uryu was sure she had to be grinning under her helmet. "As far as retard moves go, this is sort of like the bar drunks who go after a seven foot martial arts expert built like a brick house."
To Uryu's surprise, she let the arrancar go. The hollow stumbled on his feet, clutching his injured arm.
"Well, go on," she said. "Run."
"Wh-what?" said the arrancar, sounding terrified.
"Run, you little chicken fuck. Run!"
Shocked, the hollow obliged, his fight-or-flight instinct set firmly on 'flight'. As he took off into the night, she glanced at Uryu, who was looking on in disbelief.
"You're probably wondering why I let him go."
"...Yes?"
"Watch this," she said, sounding pretty giddy. Raising her free hand up, mimicking the action of pulling a trigger, she said,
"You're already dead!"
The arrancar, who had gotten some twenty yards already, exploded in dramatic fashion, his head turned into red paste.
Uryu gaped, as baffled as ever. He was not, like his fellow teenage fighters, aghast at the notion of brutality and death. A hollow was a hollow, after all, whether they looked more like a man or less like one, and he had purged their kind for years in defense of Karakura. But this... this was ability of a kind he'd only ever dreamed of before. He had known that, although all the great quincy clans were gone, exterminated in the wars with the Gotei or simply lost to history, there were others left out there. Not in Japan, but elsewhere in the world. He had always known that somewhere out there, there were survivors- his grandfather had told him as much, and he had always wondered. Now one of them had found him, and she was nothing like what he had expected.
He looked at his rescuer, who had produced a sheet of cloth from somewhere he hadn't noticed. She carefully wiped the length of her blade clean of blood, inspecting it carefully before sheathing it, stuffing the sullied cloth into a pocket. She reached for her helmet and fidgeted with it a bit.
"Stupid- stupid straps!" she muttered irritably, finally managing to pull the helmet off, holding it under her armpit. She turned to look at Uryu.
In the moonlight, there was something eerie about her. No- not about the knight, herself, but the casual, cheery look on her face, as if she had just finished some menial chore, like this kind of killing was something she did on an everyday basis. She wasn't very tall, but as far as Uryu was concerned, she might have been a titan. Black hair and a cheeky grin, she looked like one might have expected for such an eccentric, more like a juvenile having finished a prank than a seasoned warrior, grim and stoic.
"Uhm..." she said. "So, how about that, huh?"
"...I guess they underestimated your power," Uryu ventured.
"HAH!" she cheered jubilantly. "See, you got it! You got the joke! Oh, I am totally gonna rub it in 'Totto's face that a Japanese hillbilly nerd knows his pop culture better than she does! No offence," she added hastily.
"...None taken," Uryu said. "Given that you just saved my life, I'm not inclined to be difficult with you."
"Good! Good boy!" she said cheerily, giving both his shoulders a hearty slap. Uryu nearly buckled under the friendly blows.
Taking a breath, he said, "I... first of all, you have my most sincere thanks for saving me. I am in your debt, on my honour as a quincy."
"Pffft," she said dismissively. "Don't be such a stiff. I don't need no debts to go around killing hollows. A bit of good old-fashioned ultraviolence is its own reward, don'tcha know?"
"...Right. Secondly, I... I must ask. You're a quincy."
"Not a question, buddy, but yes. Yes I am."
"Yet, you use a sword."
"I can use a bow. Swords are just better."
"...Your clan must be very different."
"Very," she agreed. "I'm Bambi, by the way. No snide comments, my dumbass parents thought it was cute."
"No snide comments. Understood," After a pause, he added, "But, why are you here? I am grateful for the rescue, but..."
"Oh, I'm not gonna act like I was just passing through all casual-like," said Bambi mirthfully. "I could, but I'm, like, an awful liar. Just terrible. Killing these arrancar douchebags was a bonus, but I came here to talk to you."
"To me?"
"You always wondered, didn't ya? About other quincies. There ain't any left in Japan except you and your daddy."
"...Yes," said Uryu, wondering just how much she- or her clan- knew about him.
"Well, we're here now. Some of us. We've seen what you've been up to, and you've impressed the higher-ups. You done good, kid. If you want to know where we all came from, you're free to learn it."
"Just like that?"
"Hey, I'm just the messenger," Bambi said with a shrug. "I'm not the teaching type, really."
"Who are you?" Uryu demanded. "Which clan do you represent? Who are your people?"
"Die Heiligen Wandenritter," said Bambi, and Uryu recognised the German. Wandenritter... the very name sent a chill down his spine.
"And you want to offer me what... history lessons?"
"I bet you want to know about your grandpappy, don't you?" said Bambietta, and Uryu froze.
"You knew my grandfather?"
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. If you're interested... well, we'll be on the lookout. Fire an arrow, strong as you can at midnight, whichever day suits you, and we'll come find you."
Uryu shot her a strange look. Who was this woman?
"Now, if you'll excuse me," said Bambi, "it feels like your pals finished up back there. You don't wanna keep them waiting. I'll scram."
"Wait!" Uryu cried.
"Just think about it, okay?" Bambi cheered, as she started to run. In seconds, she was gone. Uryu stared out into the night after her. Other quincies. Knights of the Vanden.
The world was moving in slow motion. Erza was falling at breakneck speed toward the ground, but her awareness perceived it like an eternity. Memories flushed through her mind, a chaotic storm of painful thoughts ripped up like a half-healed wound.
The face of a supportive, wonderful girl with a studious mind. The face of a cocky, fun-loving young noble. The face of a sour-minded, good-hearted man. The faces of a whole student class of people, of friends long dead, long buried, brought to life by the sudden realization.
Hanyval.
That mission. That first practice patrol, that routine assignment where nothing should have gone wrong, but everything had done. Her eyes wide with shock, Erza was paralyzed as she hurtled toward the ground. Marisa. Remon. Sensuke. Rod. Her academy friends, only one of whom had lived. That one day when she had tried her hardest and flat-out failed. The day when she had done all she could to save her friends from death, and none of it had been enough. The day that had broken her down, nearly destroyed her. That dark day when she had changed forever, the naïve idealism of her past tainted and tempered by bitter reality.
She barely felt it when her body slammed into the ground, hard enough to cause a small crater. Then she saw it, her vision turning from memories past to the present, a small dot rapidly becoming larger. Hanyval the arrancar, charging at her. Her instincts finally kicked in, and she flipped herself over at the last second, launching herself to her feet. He crashed into the ground where she had been a second ago, blade in hand, ready to kill.
Bile rose in her throat. As the initial shock was wearing off, a murderous rage set in, a black hatred overrunning every mental faculty she had. He had killed her friends. He was going to pay.
She felt the seal on her chest throb, a sign that the limit release had been prepared. With but a moment of cold, ruthless rationality, she pressed it, feeling a surge of power as her reiatsu grew five-fold almost instantly. Hanyval charged, blade raised, but Erza knocked him back, the arrancar bouncing off her like a piece of debris bouncing off a cliff. Her reiatsu peaked, her power at its rawest, emanating wildly and with little control.
"You've grown, haven't ya?" said Hanyval approvingly. He launched a set of quick red spheric projectiles. Erza simply charged forward, batting them aside with ease. Some hit her, but she didn't even register the burns on her shoulder and leg.
She didn't fight with the precision of a sword-master. She swung her blade wildly and with furious speed, eschewing the precision she had trained over a century to reach. This alone saved Hanyval, at least initially. Pushed back under her ruthless charge, he parried and dodged, but finding no room to hit back.
"Aren't you a handful?" he said, leaping back. In his blade hand, over his knuckles a ball of red light began to charge up. A cero, Erza knew, but she paid it no mind. In a second's time she was upon him. He raised his free hand to parry, but Erza grabbed his wrist with one hand, bringing her blade down with the other. Cutting through his hierro with ease, she severed his sword arm by the wrist as if she were cutting through air. Hanyval screamed with pain, but his cry was cut short as Erza slammed the hilt of her sword into his face, causing him to stagger back.
She was truly lost to rage now. Not a single coherent thought entered her mind, nothing but the all-consuming desire, no, need to hurt him. She dropped her sword, her hand instead clutching his throat. With her other hand she made a fist, punching him in the face, and again, and again, and again. Hanyval struggled like a caged animal, squirming and striking back at her, but she felt none of it. She pulled him in close, headbutting him for good measure, and he staggered again. Erza let go and pounced on him like a wild animal, toppling him. He fell over on the ground with Erza straddling his midsection, her fists working overtime, bashing and hitting as hard and as quickly as she physically could, adrenaline bounding through her body. He still struggled, still tried to fight back, but he might as well have tried to turn back the tide or make a river run uphill. Erza rained down blow after blow on him, on his head, his face, his throat, his chest, his arms, concerned with nothing but causing him as much pain as she could.
"Okay, okay!" Hanyval croaked in between blows. "I give! Fuck, I give! Augh!"
Erza didn't hear him.
If she had been more stable, if she had been conscious of her actions, she would have noticed the others finishing their fights up one after the other, slowly making their way toward her. But Erza didn't, lost to a berserker rage.
"Stop! Stop!" whined Hanyval, vainly trying to ward off her strikes with his arms. All this earned him was broken forearms, the bones splintering under her relentless assault. She struck like a caveman, like some primal ape lost to all civilised thought, her fists bashing up and down without finesse or technique. His hard skin made her bones ache, but she didn't feel it, and it wouldn't have stopped her even if she did. As she continued her assault, Hanyval went from struggling and squirming to twitching and wincing, until he lay still. Erza did not notice. Her fists continued to rain down on him until the arrancar's face was reduced to bloody pulp, completely unrecognizable as a human visage. His mask fragments had long since cracked, and a bit of skull bone could be seen, skin ripped from his forehead by a vicious knuckle blow. Blood stains were all around the grass in their vicinity, having sprayed continuously, minute after minute. Erza was becoming covered in his blood, her face looking like that of an inhuman beast, like a vindictive fury come to wreak death and destruction.
"STOP!"
The cry rang out, horrified and shrill, across the park grounds. It was Orihime, tears at the corner of her eyes. Beside her, Ichigo, Tatsuki, Chad, and Uryu watched with quiet horror as Erza continued to savage the fresh corpse, her fists raining down on the bloody, wretched piece of meat and bone. Still, she didn't hear. Momo, realizing she wasn't getting through, quickly ran over to Erza.
"Erza, listen to me!" she demanded. The movement of Erza's arms seemed to slow, although more out of exhaustion than anything else.
"Erza, he's dead!" Momo snapped. "He's dead, and it's done with!"
Erza slowed down, and turned her bloodied face to look at her vice-captain, her fists slowing down even more, still bashing at the corpse slowly and impotently. A look of confusion passed over her visage, and though her face was covered in gore, her eyes made her look... lost.
"I don't know what happened to you," said Momo firmly, urgently, "but it's over."
Erza raised her fist again, and Momo reached out, grabbing her by the wrist. She felt slick, warm blood on her palm, and it was slippery to the touch, but Momo held on. Erza, finally seeming to calm, stopped.
Momo looked closer. She hit it so hard she broke her hands, she thought with horror as she looked at her captain up close. Just what had gotten into her?
"M-Momo..." Erza mumbled, sounding numb. "I..."
"It's okay. Everything's okay now," Momo assured her, knowing full well it wasn't.
Erza let out a sob, and her shoulders convulsed as tears trailed down her cheeks. Momo, at a loss for what else to do, kneeled by her side and pulled her into a hug, fresh blood rubbing off on her shihakusho. Erza, her broken hands hanging limp by her side, began to cry loudly, wailing into the night like a wounded animal.
What the hell was going on?
That was quite the chapter now wasn't it? I don't think ANY of you suspected that the arrancar at the beginning of this chapter would be the very same hollow that killed her classmates all the way back in chapter 7. This was of course, planned way back then. I always wanted Erza to deal with it eventually, and with the death of grand fisher, I figured I could introduce the arrancar in a more interesting way. I like how isshin was introduced, don't get me wrong, but I feel like doing something that would further Erza's character would be better. (Don't worry though I still plan on Isshin to arrive as a soul reaper eventually.)
I want to make it clear that her using gentai kaijo was not needed for her to win. It was however, necessary for me to just show how much she truly has come. She didn't even release her zanpaktou. However, I think your all more concerned, and rightfully so, with Erza's mental state. We plan to go more indepth on this in the next chapter, but if you felt disturbed or even terrified by Erza's actions...Good. You should be.
I also want to calm down any fans of Ichigo. I know he's had it rough the last few chapters, and the ones to follow will be rough as well. Never fear however, he will get his time to be awesome eventually, but all good characters need to struggle to get back on their feet to truly grow. This is that time for him.
Finally, Bambietta saving Uryu. As you can see, her organization has taken an interest in Uryu. I feel that this is a good chance to mix things up , and I'm sure that all of you will enjoy what comes of it. Bambietta is actually one of my favorite characters, and will be playing a large role in future arcs as will the knights of vanden as a whole.
But that's the chapter as a whole, thank you all so much for reading it and I'm excitingly looking forward to reading all the reviews for this chapter.