Well, here we are guys. Another Month, another chapter. Originally, there was going to be more content, but the chapter was getting long enough as it is. Basically we cut the chapter in two. You'll be getting the other half either by the end of the month or the first week of the next. We want to get this right after all. Just be aware though that all the battles going on in this chapter are taking place at the same time, more or less.
Not much to say this time around. Have fun and let us know what you though of our chapter in a review. It means a lot.
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
Soifon shook her hand in the air, flicking blood off it. She ignored the pain; both her hands hurt but nothing was broken, and that was an inconsequential kind of hurt. Nakeem lay on the ground, quite broken. His sword arm was twisted, the bone fractured in a dozen places, and his legs were likewise crushed from a hundred precise, hard strikes, applied over and over. Only his left arm was whole enough to move.
"Please," he begged, frantically holding up his arm over his face, lamely trying to shield himself. His blade was on the ground, snapped in half. It was not a foot away, but he didn't even try to reach for it; he had tried his damnedest and nothing had worked.
"'Please?'" said Soifon neutrally, her face stone cold. She stepped forward, putting a foot on his chest. Even under her light weight, he groaned with pain. She had broken more than a few ribs, and while Soifon took no pleasure in his pain, she didn't resent it, either. Nimbly she stood herself on top of him, and with one hand she grabbed his arm, slowly twisting it out of the way. He whimpered, and tried to resist, tried to keep his arm in place- as if it would save him- but it was futile. Even without being as savagely mauled as he was, she would still have been stronger.
"'Please.' I imagine you must have heard that word many times from the hundreds of humans you doubtless consumed in your wretched life so far, hollow," Soifon said mercilessly. She wrenched his arm fully out of the way. "Understand that I bear no hate for you, hollow. A monster cannot help but be a monster. You are a victim to your nature. But do not lie there broken and whimper to me like a dog. You are a monster, and you know how this ends. Accept it. You will get no mercy, just as you would have granted me none."
"No-no!" Nakeem whimpered. "No, it wasn't supposed- you weren't supposed to-"
With whatever little reserve of energy he had left, he desperately squirmed, wriggled, trying to get her off his chest. For a second, Soifon almost lost her balance.
"Hold still," she said irritably, and with her free hand, she jabbed him in the face, making sure to hit an already bruised, sore spot to maximize the pain. Nakeem yelped, and lay still, moaning. Soifon reached behind her back and pulled out her zanpakutou, smoothly switching the blade around for a stab. Carefully, she placed the tip over Nakeem's mask fragment. There was plenty to choose from, his mask covering fully half of his face.
"No, no, no…" Nakeem groaned.
Fed up with his moans, Soifon put a foot over his neck, and put one hand over the tip of the hilt of her short sword.
"The more you struggle, the more this will hurt," she said matter-of-factly. "Keep still, and I'll make it quick. It is more than you deserve, I'm sure."
Nakeem let out a gargle, but remained still. Flexing her muscles, Soifon pushed down, grinding Suzumebachi's tip against the mask. At first, it seemed like a lost cause, but Soifon knew that tough though he was, he was far from invincible. Putting her back into it, she pushed harder, and was rewarded with the sound of cracking bone. Nakeem gurgled more urgently, little tremors running through her body.
"I said, keep still," Soifon muttered irritably. Pushing herself further, she ground the blade deeper in, and slowly felt the mask break. Underneath was thick hierro, but under the pressure she was exerting even that gave way, especially with a bit of extra reiatsu channeled into the blade. She grit her teeth, a bit of sweat forming as she slowly, one centimetre after another, pushed the blade deeper and deeper. Nakeem's eyes were wide open and filled with horror, but Soifon paid it no mind. Face of a human or no, this creature deserved no pity. Letting out a grunt, she pushed deep and hard a final time, and Nakeem's mask cracked. The blade slid in more than halfway through, through flesh and bone, and the arrancar's back arced as he began to spasm. Soifon nimbly jumped back, content knowing that he was about to be purified. Pathetically, he twisted about with his broken limbs, beyond all helping. Soifon sensed it, the structure of his energy centre breaking down, dissolving, becoming purified by her blade. Within a minute, he had dissolved, not a single trace left of the monster, leaving only her blade clattering on the ground. Carefully, Soifon retrieved her weapon, sheathing it with the ease of a veteran.
She sensed for the others. There were battles still going on, but it seemed most had concluded already. She cursed inwardly. Weak as the arrancar had been, he had taken a good while to kill. Not only had she drawn it out to learn as much as possible, but once she had gotten serious, his thick hide, along with muscle and fat reinforced by raw power, had made for a creature difficult to kill. Her shikai could have ended it instantly, but she was not yet confident that Suzumebachi could pierce their natural armour. She hoped her dalliance would not mean the death of any of her team members. That would be a failure. It would be unprofessional.
But then again, what she had learned so far was not inconsequential. Shrugging to herself, Soifon dashed out into the night, looking to find whomever was closest. This was not over until every arrancar was dead.
Without Nemu, Isane realized, she would have been dead already. Edrad Liones, the towering arrancar, was fast and furious in a way that Isane had in no way been prepared to handle. A few hollows, even of the more powerful variety, even menos grande- those, she could have found a way to handle. But this… monstrosity? The hulking, hard-hitting brute moving like greased lightning?
She was all but chanceless.
Nemu, however, was holding her ground with only her hands. She had the physique of a slim, slender woman, but as she caught a fist in her palm, the impact running through her body hard enough to cause the asphalt under her feet to buckle, any observer would have to concede that appearances are lying snakes.
Isane knew that as a mod soul, Nemu had been built for strength and endurance, to better assist her 'father'. She had never been sure to what extent, but judging by how things were going, it wasn't by a little. For the first time in her life, Isane felt grateful for Kurotsuchi Mayuri's craftsmanship.
But, it wouldn't do to stand by. Even with her incredible strength on display, Nemu was being pushed back. Isane had to force herself to remain calm; seeing Nemu beaten back like that broke her heart a little.
"Any progress?" Nemu demanded, a hint of urgency in her normally calm voice.
"Almost there," Isane reassured her. She had released her shikai, and set Itegumo to work immediately. The zanpakutou's special ability wasn't weak, but it took its time. Slowly, over time, it would lower the temperature around its target, slowing it down. In theory, it could freeze anything solid. In reality, a target like Edrad required time and effort to be affected at all.
Edrad raised a fist, and Nemu shook under the impact as she put both her arms into a cross to shield herself. Triumphantly, Edrad slammed his other fist into her gut, and Nemu wheezed as the air was knocked out of her lungs, leaving her struggling to breathe.
"Come on, damn it!" Isane swore under her breath, as she watched her girlfriend slide back across the ground, Nemu barely keeping on her feet. Edrad, giving her no pause, advanced immediately toward his target, hand raised for another strike. A chill running down her spine, Isane tried to will her zanpakutou to work more quickly. Get him, damn it!
Edrad's hand came down again, but to Isane's indescribable relief, his movements had slowed. Nemu evaded the strike with ease, and grabbing the arrancar by the arm, she pulled the giant off balance, throwing him to the ground.
"Give him hell, Nemu!" Isane cried triumphantly, rushing to her side, blade in arm.
"You dirty rat, what was that?" Edrad bellowed, quickly getting to his feet.
"My shikai," Isane declared, finally feeling some measure of confidence.
Edrad gave the two of them a careful, studious look. Isane could feel Itegumo sing with pleasure, its icy grasp fully enveloping the arrancar, growing stronger by the second. Maybe now…
"I can't move the way I should," Edrad muttered, slowly waving his arm around. "Well… I guess I better stop holding back, then."
Isane's spirits sank as the arrancar charged forward like a raging bull, pushing against the effect of her zanpakutou as if it were nothing. He slammed into Nemu with a hard tackle, sending her flying. Isane desperately hacked at his leg, hoping to speed up the process of her shikai, but the blade bounced off his thick hide.
"Bothersome!" Edrad snarled. With a ferocious backhand he sent Isane flying, as well, nearly knocking her out as she struck the side of a building hard enough to crack it. She coughed, landing on all fours, nearly having lost her breath.
"Well, come on, then!" Edrad said loudly. "Can you do no better? Freeze me solid and shatter me if you can, shinigami! Else I will kill you where you stand. There will be no reprieve, and there will be no mercy besides a quick death!"
Isane's vision blurred as she weakly stood up. He was just… too powerful. Was this how it was going to end for her? After all these years?
Staring out into the night, Orihime felt the trembles at a distance. It had begun, then. The war her mother had spoken of had come harder and more quickly than any of them had expected. Even this far away, even as a human with only a little experience to her name, Orihime could tell something terrible was happening. It was like listening to artillery from a distance, like bombs dropped out of planes, landing far away yet too close for comfort.
Erza had been very, very clear on this. Orihime was not to come close under any circumstance, no matter the argument, no matter how useful she could be. They had a medic, and this was too dangerous, and the enemies were too strong. It was an absolute command from her mother.
But Orihime thought to herself, thinking with crystal clear focus for one of the few times in her life, thinking about the people out there: about her friends, about anyone caught in the crossfire. What if one of them got killed? What if somebody needed help, and didn't get any?
She could make a difference. It was mad, and dangerous, but she could if she tried.
But Erza's command had been absolute, not to be disobeyed under any circumstances.
But then again, Erza had never had any problem breaking the rules if it meant doing the right thing. In fact, as far as Orihime could tell, what was right mattered so much to her mother that she'd rather die than ignore it, rules be damned.
Orihime knew she was only human. Orihime knew she might die. Orihime also knew people she loved were out there, in danger, and she knew what the one person she looked up to more than anyone else would do. She wouldn't hesitate, and she wouldn't back down. Even if the odds were one to a googolplex, she'd still try, because that's who she was. That's who Orihime wanted to be. Grabbing a jacket, she hurried out the door into the approaching night. Somebody would need her help. Even if the one winding up in need of help was herself, she would still try. Breaking into a sprint, she hurried toward the figurative explosions. She could make it. If not, then she could at least say she'd tried.
Nozomi had, for most of her career, worked in Twelfth Division as a researcher. She was used to white, pristine laboratories, to multitudes of monitors, row upon row of files, neat and orderly locales furnished with everything a scientist could need to carry out her work. Urahara Kisuke's lab- if it could be called that- was one of stark contrast. There were monitors, all right, but the place was a mess, papers strewn about, notes with hastily scribbled, half-finished ideas sharing space with folders splayed open and with various instruments. Some she recognized; others, she had no idea what they were. Eccentricity and a general lack of neatness weren't uncommon back in the science division, sure, but the genius Urahara, a one-in-a-generation mind, took things to the next level. She had been given a chair and, trying not to disturb a stack of papers looking dangerously unstable, she had acted as his assistant from the moment the invasion had commenced. It was her role to observe, after all.
But despite adjusting her expectations, she found herself surprised by the quality of his technology. Everything looked like it was built by hand, which it probably was, and she marvelled that he'd managed. The monitors were clean in their emissions of data, the computers up to date and humming as they processed new information. Messy as it was, this was in some ways a better research terminal than most she had seen.
"Come on, you stupid little…" Urahara muttered, fidgeting with a screen, the main one in front of them, well over two yards wide. "I serviced you just yesterday, do not make me wait-"
He banged the monitor with his hand, secured a screw, and suddenly the screen flickered to life, giving them a clear view from above of what looked like a battlefield. Nozomi only caught a glance of the field before the screen changed, switching over to another, then yet another.
"What's this?" Nozomi asked curiously.
"Drones," Urahara said, a self-satisfied grin on his face, "one of the latest technologies in the human world. Tinkered with it myself, and next thing you know, I've got a flying platform that carries a small camera. Set up enough of them round town to get a view almost anywhere. And to think the meticulous captain Soifon is putting so much effort into good, old-fashioned spies, eh?"
"It's incredible," Nozomi said, staring fascinated at the screen. The aforementioned captain was in view on the screen, and by the looks of it, she was making a mess of her opponent. "You can see all of them?"
"In just a second, I will." Urahara nodded, seeming pleased with her reaction.
"Well," Nozomi added, "a visual is all well and good, but what about emissions? We could tell a thousand times more, scientifically, from their reiatsu levels."
"Well ahead of you, assistant," he said with a smirk, and flicked a remote. On a smaller monitor, waves appeared in patterns well familiar to Nozomi. Her specialty had always been micro-engineering, which meant she had to know her molecular spirit-particle physics.
"Incredible…" Nozomi said, staring wide-eyed. "This is from Captain Soifon's fight?"
Urahara nodded. "And here, and here, and here…" he said, flicking one button after another, lighting up several monitors rapidly, "are all the other ones online so far. I'm already collecting so much data…"
"This is fascinating," Nozomi muttered, staring intently. "These were hollows, most of which are non-humanoid, yet they move as if quite comfortable in this new bipedal form. Meaning, the transformative method would have to have included some kind of cognitive stimulant- a 'booster pack,' if you will, for their newly made brains to adjust."
"Absolutely," Urahara said, nodding. "I certainly built it to be capable of something such as that, but I never explored it fully. It seems Aizen did. These are clearly not his first experiments."
"They primarily fight with their fists, rather than their blades. Intuition or arrogance?"
"Both, I'd wager," said Urahara, "but most of all, I doubt they have had much practice with a blade. An arrancar's zanpakutou may have the shape of a sword, but its primary purpose is to act as a conduit for accessing their baser powers."
"Yet at least one of them appears more than proficient," Nozomi said thoughtfully. "A personality thing, perhaps? Could be pragmatic- you've got a weapon, so why not learn to use it properly?"
"Could be," Urahara said, nodding approvingly.
"May I?" said Nozomi, reaching for the remote.
"You change the main monitor with this button," Urahara said helpfully. "Please, help yourself. I will be plenty busy on my own."
Nozomi grabbed the remote, and cycled through one camera after another. It was a terrifying thing, when she thought about it; watching comrades-in-arms be attacked so viciously, fighting for their lives…
But as a researcher, she'd learned to keep a certain emotional distance. Her role was not to be invested. Her role was to find out as much as possible given the available raw data. She constructed her hypotheses and she made her conclusions and she interpreted it as best she could. Emotion was a hindrance, a taint on the logic that was meant to guide her actions. Carefully, she flicked from one battleground to the next, making mental notes of the arrancars' fighting abilities and strengths. What she found out could perhaps save lives one day. That was a good greater than her personal feelings.
But, then the screen flipped past the sight of a bulky arrancar tossing his enemies around like ragdolls, and her heart skipped a beat. She saw Kotetsu Isane being flung into the side of a building. She saw Kurotsuchi Nemu struggling to even stand. The arrancar was moving slowly, but not slowly enough. His attacks were too fast and too powerful. Before long…
"…They're going to die," Nozomi said, a sinking feeling in her gut.
"Oh, yes, I suppose it doesn't look good for them," said Urahara neutrally, briefly looking up from his screen.
Nozomi hadn't even realized she had spoken out loud, but she continued.
"At this rate…" she muttered, her brain circuitry working as quickly as it could, "I think… if the arrancar doesn't decide to end it quickly, they have five minutes at most. They're not turning this around."
"That's what war looks like, I'm afraid," said Urahara, his voice dampened. He had been in the Stealth Force, Nozomi recalled; he would know what he was talking about. Without thinking, she stood up.
"Five minutes," she said firmly. "From here to there, it's three at most if I move quickly."
"Oh?" said Urahara.
Nozomi turned and quickly moved toward the doorway, reaching for her blade.
"You're no use if you're dead," Urahara pointed out.
"Neither are they," Nozomi shot back.
"You have seen their strength, right?"
"The thing we spent half an hour looking at? Yes, I did," Nozomi muttered. "Hard not to."
"But-"
"I'm not going to think right now, okay?" said Nozomi, knowing that what she was about to do could be very, very stupid. "I'm just going to… I'm going," she grumbled, charging out the door.
Urahara smiled as he watched her go. It might not be the wisest choice in the long run- but then again, it might not be unwise. History was littered with clever ideas that once seemed, without hindsight, to be absolutely terrible. Kujo Nozomi was cut from a better cloth than most people he'd known at Twelfth- few would ever have risked their own skin like this.
Isane was pretty sure her arm was broken. She had somehow managed to get to her feet, only to endure a whopper of a kick to her side, sending her tumbling again before Nemu had caught up, distracting the arrancar again. She couldn't feel her arm below the elbow joint, couldn't move it, and the sad thing was that this was pretty much a best-case scenario. Her useless limb dangling, she got up to her knees, struggling to stand, the world spinning around her. Nemu was putting her back into it, fighting furiously with all she had, pushing back the arrancar just briefly.
Something hit Isane. Itegumo! Her blade, was it still…
She looked around the ground and saw the zanpakutou lying not far away. She scrambled toward it, stumbling on the way. Clumsily, she fished it up from the ground, grateful at least for the small mercies- at least it wasn't her sword arm that was broken. She felt a wave of relief as she sensed the blade's intent, its power still in effect.
"You had best hit harder, woman!" Edrad bellowed hot-headedly, sounding quite pleased. He caught one of Nemu's punches in his palm, then slammed a fist into her face. Nemu staggered back, taking the hit in silence. She was beaten badly, blood trailing down from her mouth and eye. She kept her hands up still, refusing to give in.
Edrad gave her an approving look, smiled predatorily, and raised his hand. From his palm, there was a red light as an orb of energy took shape. Isane sensed its tremendous power the moment it took shape, and she gasped. Cero! She had read about it before, an advanced power wielded by the menos grande-class hollows, but this… it was forming so quickly, with such raw and devastating power. Its energy peaked, and then it fired in a red beam of destruction.
"NEMU!" Isane screamed, her heart skipping several beats. Beyond thinking, she ran forward instinctively, trying to do anything she could- but it would come too late. The beam had already hit-
Then, through the panicked, desperate haze of her mind, Isane wondered what had actually happened. Why was there no explosion? No destroyed buildings? There had been a sudden flash of light, she realized, as she thought back, just seconds ago as it fired…
"Sorry I'm late," said a familiar voice. As things became clearer, Isane saw it- Nemu still standing, beaten up but alive, and in front of her, Kujo Nozomi in full uniform, blade in hand. Her zanpakutou had changed, taking the shape of two thin, metal rods no longer than a foot each. They crackled with energy, arcing like lightning- only purple, not bright blue.
Isane's relief, which had almost overtaken her horror, turned back into panic. Nozomi was not a powerful warrior. She was a lower-ranked science expert, a lab worker. If it had been Erza, or a captain, or even a vice-captain more, things could have looked up, but…
"What's this?" said Edrad loudly. "How did you stop my cero, girl?"
"It's my zanpakutou's ability," said Nozomi, staring down the arrancar. He towered over her, nearly twice as tall and several times bigger, physically and spiritually both. But even though she was but a few yards from death, she stood upright. It was courage or madness, or both at the same time.
"If you want to die along with them, so be it," Edrad said, and with a shrug, he moved forward, drawing his blade for the first time. It seemed he was done toying around.
"Rain down, Arazome Shigure!" Nozomi cried, and raised her weapon up high, swinging around the weapon- or, well, instrument. As Edrad charged in, purple energy arced from the zanpakutou, extending and coiling wildly like a whip with a mind of its own. As he came in close, the purple lightning struck him directly, hammering his chest relentlessly. Edrad screamed with pain, taking one, two steps back, his body jerking uncontrollably.
"Thank you, mister arrancar," said Nozomi confidently. "It usually takes a while to charge up, but that cero almost overloaded Arazome."
Isane blinked. So, her blade could absorb energy and turn it against its enemies?
In her chest, something awoke. If they were going to die, they were going to die right. And maybe, just maybe… maybe there was a way. Firmly, she grasped Itegumo in her hand, feeling its effects pulsating, the cold still running through Edrad.
"Nemu, GO!" she cried, slipping into a shunpo, charging the arrancar before he had a chance to recover. Nemu, not needing to be told twice, balled her fists and surged forward. Isane, ignoring the pain of her broken arm rattling around freely, quickly came around behind Edrad. Putting all her strength into the blow, she cut the back of his knee, and to her surprise, she drew blood. Edrad grunted, sinking down to one knee.
Meanwhile, Nemu had come in hard and fast. Edrad had brought up his blade to strike her, but slowed as he was by pain and by cold, she had easily closed the distance before he could hit. One hand batting his sword arm away, Nemu struck with the other, her fist slamming into his throat. Edrad gargled, and Nemu grabbed hold of his ears, propelling herself up, slamming her knee into his face once, twice, three times. With his other arm, Edrad reached up to grab her, but Nemu nimbly evaded it, twisting his arm aside and jabbing his solar plexus. Isane, deciding not to be outdone, rained down blow after blow at the arrancar's back.
"Wretched gnats!" Edrad snarled. He was slowing, and Isane felt a spark of hope. If it went on… if he weakened, if it went on long enough, she could freeze him solid. Edrad batted at Nemu, but his guard was down, and he couldn't land a hit.
"Vice-captains, stand back!" Nozomi cried. She had not stood idle, herself, having chanted a kido to completion. Both of them sensing the energies about to be discharged, Nemu and Isane jumped aside.
"Hadou seventy-three: Souren Soukatsui!" she cried, pushing both her palms toward the downed arrancar. A stream of blue fire propelled from her palms, growing and magnifying in strength and intensity as they closed on their target. Edrad roared with pain as they hit home, burning and blazing with ferocious force.
For a wonderful, glorious couple of seconds, Isane thought they had done it. The arrancar roared and thrashed, his reiatsu fluctuating wildly, flailing to put out the fires. His energy was weakening. He had been hurt for real…
But, then the thought struck her. Cold was the power of her blade. The spell, as powerful as it was, was nothing but blazing heat. Her heart skipped a beat, for what felt like the seventeenth time, and as the kido began to burn out, her worst fears came true. Ripping his jacket, reduced to rags and cinders, Edrad stood before them, literally smouldering. His skin was riddled with blisters and ugly burn injuries- but, Isane realized, he was free of Itegumo's influence, and he was still quite alive. He took a long, deep couple of breaths, blade still in hand. His skin had peeled off from his wrist down, and Isane thought she could see the bone of his knuckles, white in the evening light.
"Shinigami," he said slowly, speaking at last, "I was wrong."
Isane winced, and seeing Nozomi's horrified look, she knew she was not alone in her fear. They had stood paralyzed watching him, and she couldn't help but wonder if a more seasoned warrior, like Erza, wouldn't just have taken advantage of his injured state.
"I underestimated you all, and for that I apologize," he said, a surprising sincerity in the rumble of his voice. "Tell me, what are your names?"
"Wh-what?" Isane stuttered.
"Your names, shinigami!" Edrad bellowed.
"Kurotsuchi Nemu," said Nemu, the only one to remain expressionless, "science advisor, Fourth Division."
"K-Kotetsu Isane," Isane stuttered, "vice-captain, Fourth Division. Medical support."
"Kujo Nozomi, science advisor to Fifth Division," said Nozomi.
Edrad grinned widely.
"Let your hearts swell with pride, shinigami. You are but functionaries, possessed of useless professions I cannot understand, yet despite that weakness, you have shown a strength I never expected. I was wrong. Your deaths will be worth my time after all."
Isane steeled herself. She was afraid, very afraid, but… it wasn't time to roll over and die yet.
"Listen, Nozomi," she said, as sharply and quickly as she could, "can you do that thing again?"
"S-sure," Nozomi said nervously.
"Good," Isane said. "Try and use it again, whenever you can. I'll slow him down with Itegumo. Nemu, make sure to keep him distracted."
Edrad laughed heartily and held out his blade. "Unfortunately, that plan will not come to fruition, although you show the right spirit."
They could all sense his power growing, spiking, as he cried out, "Erupt, Volcanica!"
There was an explosive discharge of reiatsu, and heat washed over the three unfortunate shinigami. Whatever was to come would hurt, and Isane wondered if they'd survive even a minute. But whatever this transformation was… it wasn't over till it was over. Her friends wouldn't give up. She couldn't give up. She had too much to lose. Summoning bravery she didn't know she had, Isane cried out,
"Itegumo, with me!"
How she hadn't been knocked unconscious, Momo wasn't sure. Ylfordt's devastating charge had almost killed her more times than she could count already. The bullish arrancar was not only monstrously powerful, but faster than a creature his size and bulk should be. Evading a deadly thrust from his horns by the barest margin, she desperately fired off a fireball from the tip of her blade. It was too close to miss, but it was imprecise, lacking focus, and did little more than scorch the bone of his head.
"Come on, sis!" Ylfordt called triumphantly. "You gotta do better than that, or you'll die!"
Momo didn't reply, gritting her teeth as she went into a roll sideways, narrowly avoiding a direct charge. Suddenly, a cloud of dust gathered around his head, scratching at it. Rangiku's ash didn't do more than scratch his armour, but it bought Momo a precious couple of seconds to scramble to her feet, away from the arrancar's striking range.
"Got any of that gold magic left?" Rangiku said urgently.
"No," Momo said, bringing her hands up to prepare a spell. "Not nearly enough, at least. Bakudou sixty-one: Rikujokourou!"
At her command, the six yellow rods of power manifested around Ylfordt's waist, locking him in place. Ylfordt snorted, pushed, and quickly broke two of them.
"Don't just stand there, help!" Momo snapped. She then began chanting under her breath, preparing another spell.
"On it," Rangiku said, swinging her hilt. Her ash found its mark, enveloping Ylfordt, scratching and ripping at his skin.
"Mosquitoes, is that it? All ya got?" Ylfordt mocked, breaking loose with a hard flex of his monstrous muscles, shattering the spell. Momo chanted more quickly, knowing she needed a few more seconds. Ylfordt saw her, and as she had feared, he turned his horns toward her, breaking into a sprint.
"Not so fast, big boy!" Rangiku cried, jumping in his way, the ash following her command, forming something of a barrier as she blocked his charge. Ylfordt snarled and grunted, the ash assaulting his nostrils and eyes, scratching at the weak points. He halted his charge momentarily, and shook his head rapidly, but like a cloud of flies, Rangiku's ash followed him. Ylfordt, realising there was no way but forward, closed his eyes shut and charged directly at Rangiku. She reacted immediately, jumping back, up into the air, but she was too close. Although Ylfordt's horns missed their mark, failing to impale her chest, one of the sharp tips of bone still hit home, running through her thigh. Rangiku cried out with pain as Ylfordt shook his head, wrenching the horn free by ripping it sideways, spraying blood and gore across the street. Rangiku fell over, flung to the side, clutching a nasty flesh wound.
"Over here!" Momo cried fiercely. Ylfordt turned away from Rangiku, opening his eyes; the ash had followed its master back, disrupted by pain and injury. He lowered his head, readying for another charge, but before he could take the first step, a long, golden sliver of light extending in the blink of an eye, wrapping around his neck. There it formed a collar, studded and firm.
"The hell is this?" Ylfordt demanded.
His question was answered quickly, as from each stud a chain extended, some ten yards long, each one planting firmly in the ground. All in all, twelve chains held the arrancar firmly in place.
"Ain't you learned?" Ylfordt snorted. "Those tricks don't work. I'm not gonna be held down, sis!"
Momo didn't reply, a look of near desperation on her face. She knew the chains, a device of her own making, drawn from what little reserves she had left of her own kido, wouldn't last. Already the arrancar tugged at it, the fundaments of the chains shaking and rattling. One, two came undone as Ylfordt's titanic strength strained against Momo's imperfect magic.
But, she hadn't stood idle. As soon as the chains had finished, she had begun muttering a full incantation, keenly aware that she had at most ten seconds to work with, after which point the arrancar would be upon her again- and the next time, she wouldn't have Rangiku to distract him. This was it. There was no other shot. As the spell approached completion, there was a stirring in the air. Even Ylfordt sensed it, and he looked up. There was a haze, and then he heard Momo cry out.
"Bakudou seventy-five: Gochutekkan!" She had locked her hands together into a single fist, five lights orbiting around it as she brought her hands down, kneeling to slam them into the ground. The five lights reappeared on the ground, staying put and glowing with a faint orange.
Above Ylfordt, five pillars formed, about a foot thick each and seeming impossibly tall. They were bound together with a chain, and headed rapidly for the arrancar.
"Son of a bitch!" Ylfordt snapped. He was nearly free, but one chain binding him now. With a final tug, he pulled himself loose, breaking the last link, the gilded chains shattered under his strength.
Then the pillars came down.
Momo breathed a sigh of relief. Her own chains wouldn't do, not in this state, but a high-level bakudou like that? With a full incantation? It would be enough to pin him down and then some. With a bit of luck she could charge a blast powerful enough to kill him-
Then, suddenly, through the dust settling after the spell's impact, he came forward with lightning speed. Momo froze for a second, caught completely unawares. But- but how? The spell had hit!
And then a second later, Ylfordt barrelled into her. Momo was hit dead centre, thrown like a ragdoll by the raging bull of a monster. The shock was tremendous. It took several seconds for Momo's mind to even catch up; at first there was no pain at all, as if she had been hit so hard that she couldn't even process it. He dragged her along a good twenty yards, roaring angrily, before abruptly stopping and letting Momo tumble to the ground.
It was then that Momo realized she couldn't breathe. Something warm was spilling down her neck, copiously, and with dread she reached up to her neck. A gaping hole was where her throat had been only seconds ago. She gasped, but there was no air to take in; only blood flooding down her lungs. Desperately, Momo wriggled and thrashed on the ground, panicking. She couldn't move one of her arms, and several of her ribs were broken.
"I gotta admit," Ylfordt said, slowly walking up to her, red dripping from his left horn, "ya nearly got me there. You even left a mark."
Through the panicked haze, Momo saw his left arm hung crooked, disjointed, the bony plating having been broken. So close! It had been that close, so close that one of the pillars had found its mark and nearly crushed him as he broke out- just one second more, just one second more and- and she wouldn't be-
Dying. She was dying, she knew that now. Horror passed her face as the realization came.
"Problem is, you relaxed yourself. Thought you won. That's the kinda lax thinking that gets you killed," he said triumphantly. "See ya 'round, sis. I'll save what's left of you for later. I still gotta finish that busty bitch off."
Arm still hanging disjointed, he turned around, leaving a twitching, broken Hinamori Momo on the street.
Shawlong had closed the distance with frightening speed, but in the same instant, Byakuya had dashed back. With preternatural speed, Shawlong turned and pivoted, barely losing any momentum as Byakuya dashed from one side to the next, trying to evade the arrancar. Before long he had caught up, making a lethal horizontal swipe with his claw-hand, each digit a blade in its own right. Byakuya bent backward, the strike going wide, but Shawlong stabbed his other hand forward, aiming to skewer the captain. With catlike agility, Byakuya twisted to the side, jumping into the air in a somersault. He landed on the ground on one hand, before flipping himself to his feet- a skill that, to his discontent, he had once learned from a certain Shihouin.
Shawlong was already moving when Byakuya stood upright, but the captain was ready. Using his other hand, he commanded the thousand tiny blades at his disposal. In a shower of noble pink, he barraged the arrancar with cut after cut. Shawlong, more surprised than hurt, broke his stride and took a step back.
"And here I thought I'd have you outgunned with ten blades to one, captain," he said with a jocular smirk on his face, "yet it seems that it is I who am outnumbered!"
The blades had cut and scratched his armour, but done little to no real damage. Chipped but unbroken, the bony carapace held firm. Frowning, Byakuya waved his arms around, guiding his blades to find a chink in the arrancar's armour, but Shawlong was upon him again, launching into a series of swipes and stabs, forcing Byakuya to move back, out of the way, constantly on the move to dodge. As the captain went into a shunpo, he was swiftly followed as the arrancar used its sonido, the two briefly locked in a chase, a deadly game of cat and mouse. Although it lasted only seconds, it felt like eternity, the two of them dashing back and forth across the cityscape.
Finally, Byakuya found an opening and thrust his palm forward. "Shou!" he cried, and point-blank the kido hit home. Shawlong, taken off guard, tumbled into a lamp-post which bent almost comically under the force of his impact. Byakuya immediately guided his blades toward the arrancar, carefully looking for weak spots. The armour didn't encase his foe completely, but even that aside, he had that hierro, the steel-skin that had proven so troublesome already…
Shawlong, a cunning and clever beast, rolled away as soon as he felt the blades scratching his skin, and dashed forward with the agility of a beast intent to kill. Pre-emptively, Byakuya dashed back and to the side, evading a double thrust that would have skewered him completely.
This was no good. The arrancar was fast, deadly, and powerful, and worse than that, he seemed to know exactly how to use his powers. This was no ordinary hollow- this was a monster seasoned by experience, one that likely had fought and killed shinigami before. Byakuya's strength was the range of his thousand blades, and the creature had seen right through it, pushing him back ruthlessly to prevent him from using it. There had to be a weak spot, sure, but what use if he could never get the time to find out where it was?
He weighed his options. Bankai? It would surely slay the creature. Deadly as it was, its strategy was very simple, and it would be overwhelmed. But, it would be disrespectful to Senbonzakura to use it so lightly, and beneath him as a captain and a nobleman to use it as a first resort. So base a creature did not deserve such majesty, not without earning it first. His arsenal was far from exhausted.
Kido, then. Explore his opponent. Find any weaknesses. Turn the tables.
Shawlong struck rapidly, well over two dozen times in the time it took Byakuya to make his decision. He used Senbonzakura only to parry, slowly falling back as he dodged one strike after another.
"Come now, come now!" Shawlong said, a glimmer of bloodlust in his eyes. "Surely this is not all a captain can manage?"
"No," Byakuya said simply. Guiding both his arms up and down, Senbonzakura's blades shot down, pinning Shawlong by the hands, pushing his arms down. Quickly, one hand guiding the blades, the other rising level with the arrancar's face, he said, "Shakkahou."
The spell slammed into Shawlong's face, and Byakuya felt a measure of pride; he had, calling only the spell's name, summoned a fireball strong and explosive enough to function, yet not so strong that its impact would hurt him in return. Shawlong, surprised, stumbled back, his head swaying. As Byakuya had suspected, it had not been enough to do serious damage, but targeting the head had been enough to stun him. Byakuya held up a hand.
"Soukatsui," he said impassively, showering the arrancar with blue fire. Quickly, he redirected his thousand blades, each one crawling across the monster's skin as it stumbled back under the magical barrage. Shawlong, aflame, staggered back, flailing his arms as Byakuya's blades carved and stung him, striking the arrancar like mosquitoes. With satisfaction, Byakuya saw the blades draw blood, cutting through the skin on his face, several ugly gashes appearing up his cheek.
It did not last, of course. Shawlong was strong and skilled, a survivor of a thousand fights like all of his lord's fracciones, and the blades weren't enough to hurt him seriously. After recovering from his stumble, he dashed to the side. The blue flames were still licking his torso, slowly dying out, finding no purchase on the bone carapace covering his chest. He stabbed forward with a clawed hand, a look of furious determination on his face. Byakuya, quite ready, had already moved back and out of the way. He had not hurt the arrancar, but then again, he had not expected to. He was getting a sense of his foe now, and more importantly, he had taken charge of the battle's pace. As he'd suspected, the arrancar lacked entirely the range of abilities that Byakuya possessed for himself. It was deadly, yes, and fast- but without the finesse and multitude of mastery that had made him such an esteemed captain.
Shawlong came at him again, launching into the same series of rapid cuts and thrusts, a veritable whirlwind of razors. The arrancar was like a machine, spinning sharp death right at the captain. Pushed to his very limits, Byakuya dodged and evaded, dashing back and forth, again followed rapidly by the arrancar's sonido. As he landed on the ground after a high jump, knees bent and Shawlong's blade piercing the ground just millimetres from where Byakuya had been less than a second ago, he felt it.
Rukia.
He had been aware on some level, of course, of the others, of the multitude of battles being fought all at once across the city. Such energy was difficult to miss, after all, even by normal humans, let alone shinigami. But, he had filtered it out as he focused on the battle at hand, like one would filter out background chatter in a crowded room. Yet, Rukia's energy cut across that filter, like the loud voice of a loved one calling out across that crowded room, and he could not help but hear it.
In the distance, there was Rukia's energy, spiking and then suddenly going low. She was being pushed hard, he realized- too hard. Something was going wrong; he was sure of it. His heart skipped a beat. He had only one day ago told her he was ready to give her more freedom, that she should gain the strength to defend herself- and now, what if she died? It could not be. It was unthinkable, not after all he had been through. A mad, passionate part of him, a remainder of the impetuous youth he had once been, demanded he immediately rush off to her aid. But Byakuya, adult, clan leader and captain, immediately shook off that notion. Abandoning combat in the name of the Gotei to attend a personal matter was unacceptable, disgraceful. It would mean dishonour, and he had had enough of that to last him a lifetime.
Then there was a sudden flash, a sensation, and a microsecond later Byakuya realized it was pain. Shawlong had raked his hand across Byakuya's side, reaching just far enough to cut him. Blood sullied his clothes, and Byakuya swore as he stumbled back, caught unawares. Curses! He had let himself be distracted- now, of all times!
Shawlong, smirking with confidence, pushed his advantage. Byakuya let himself fall backward, twisting around to land on his palm, flipping himself upright with ease. He winced as his body cried out against these acrobatics, but he ignored it.
It was not enough. He had regained his balance, but Shawlong was close, too close, and Senbonzakura was too far away. In just a second's time, he would be skewered.
Kuchiki Byakuya was used to pain, and he was used to sacrifice. He had no compunctions about it. In a split second, he saw the one choice he had, and without hesitation he made it. Surging forward, right onto Shawlong, he grabbed the arrancar's left arm by the wrist. In the same instant, Shawlong's right claws cut deep into Byakuya's chest, five bony blades running him through. Shawlong, surprised, slowly slid them as far in as he could before muscle, sinew, and ribcage stopped him. Byakuya gasped with pain, gritting his teeth and holding on to the arrancar's other arm with the strength of a man possessed.
"I am impressed, captain," said Shawlong with a chuckle. "So readily allowing yourself to be impaled to stop me from using both of my hands: I would expect no less of the Gotei's elite."
Byakuya kept his mouth shut, and shot the arrancar a hateful glare. His left hand trembling, he raised it up to guide his thousand blades. It took Shawlong a second to realize what he had forgotten, but as the shower of pink closed in, his eyes widened, and he tried to pull back. Despite the five blades twisting in his body, Byakuya held onto the monster's wrist, and but a second later, Senbonzakura struck, focusing on the upper half of Shawlong's face. Shawlong cried out as the blades ravaged him, and kneed Byakuya in the midsection, desperate to get free. The pain finally being too much, Byakuya let go, feeling a new swell of pain as Shawlong ripped his blade-hand free, blood streaming abundantly from his torso. Stumbling, Byakuya managed to remain upright, his iron will forcing his body to obey. The pink blades retracted, surrounding their master as a protective field.
"You bastard," Shawlong snarled, having stepped back a few yards. The half of his face not covered with bone was a mess, his eye shredded and bloody, and the skin around it had peeled off, looking like so much raw meat.
"Expect no less…" Byakuya managed slowly, "…from a captain of the Gotei."
Even now, even skewered, pierced, and wounded, Byakuya sensed Rukia. She was fighting for her life, pushed to the limit but still alive, and he knew he could not hold back any further. Shawlong flicked the blood off the hand that had skewered Byakuya, and assumed a stance.
"Getting a new eye will not be easy, captain," he said acidly. "Such dirty tricks I never expected from a nobleman."
Byakuya spat, blood in his mouth. "Speak not of nobility, monster. You have no concept of it. I will not be called a hypocrite by the likes of you- you may speak eloquently, and you may feign civility, but I see your true nature underneath. You are a hollow, base, cruel, and bloodthirsty. Yet, here you stand before me, daring to pretend you are more than that?"
Shawlong shrugged. "I've never denied my true nature. That, it seems, is the difference between us."
Byakuya felt his choler rise. His sister's life was still in danger, and here he dallied with word games against a simple beast.
"You told me I was to behold, for the first time, the 'true power' of an arrancar. Behold, then, for the first time the true power of a captain, hollow."
He raised his hand, and in it, Senbonzakura materialized as a normal blade. Byakuya turned it downward, the tip facing the ground. Then, he let go of the hilt. For a second, Shawlong's face was one of surprise. Then, as the blade sunk smoothly into the ground, surprise changed into realization.
"Bankai," said Byakuya, his voice trembling a little, "Senbonzakura Kageyoshi."
Around them, in two long rows, giant blades rose out of the ground in a majestic spectacle. Shawlong looked around him, seeming to evaluate them.
"Scatter."
At Byakuya's command, the blades scattered, shattering into billions of tiny blades. The world around them was pink, the arrancar surrounded on all sides. Shawlong looked around himself, looking uncertain, and Byakuya sensed fear. Calmly he walked toward the arrancar, ignoring the pain of his fresh wounds.
"What happened to your pride, monster?" said Byakuya, his voice icily cool. "Ever since we started, you seemed so confident in your skills, so assured of your victory. My bankai has not even begun to attack, and already your resolve weakens?"
The provocation worked; as Byakuya had guessed, the display had put Shawlong on edge. Snarling, the arrancar charged through the blur of pink, aiming for Byakuya's neck. With a casual gesture, the captain summoned a massive wave of pink blades, defending against the attack with ease. With a flick of his hand, he guided the blades to push back, and sent Shawlong flying, knocked off his feet.
"Such pride held by a monster drunk on a power given to him by somebody else, enamoured with a strength he cannot even control properly… it offends me," said Byakuya, his voice neutral as he slowly, inexorably advanced toward Shawlong. The arrancar snarled and got to his feet, but Byakuya summoned another storm of blades, relentlessly assaulting his foe. This time he cut, for real, letting each blade dig in hard. Shawlong's armour creaked and cracked, scratched by the relentless assault, and his skin was lacerated, piece by piece. The attack lasted only a few seconds, but Shawlong looked a mess still. His clothes had been reduced to rags, leaving him mostly naked. Cuts and scrapes riddled his skin, and his armour- so pristine and powerful but a minute ago- was covered in cracks.
"I will crush that pride," Byakuya continued, "for you have done nothing to earn it."
"Y-you damned shinigami!" Shawlong snapped, his mask of composure breaking. "What right do you have to look down on me?"
Byakuya continued to walk forward, and Shawlong took a hesitant, fearful step back.
"I look down on you, beast, because you wield enormous power that you did nothing to earn or master, and you employ it only in the service of yourself. That is the greatest difference between us, arrancar. That is the weakness your wretched kind represents, and that is why you and all your ilk will lose. Your selfishness is your undoing."
"You haughty son of a bitch!" Shawlong shouted, charging forward, arm raised. Byakuya moved his arms quickly, feeling several jolts of pain, but he pushed through it. Following his command, his blades wrapped around the arm Shawlong had raised to strike him, stopping it dead in its tracks. It was covered in pink, and Shawlong, though struggling, was held in place.
"Realize these last few moments of your life the gap between us," said Byakuya, and made a fist. At his command, the blades all began to dig into Shawlong's carapace, grinding and drilling at it, tens of thousands all at once. "Realize the power you tried to best, and realize your folly."
As he finished speaking, the blades ground deep into Shawlong's arm, ripping it apart. His fingers, his hand, his elbow; the arm split completely, sliced apart by every joint. Shawlong screamed, and blood soaked the blades.
Byakuya, not finished, raised his hand and guided the blades. Fear overtook Shawlong, and he turned around and ran, arterial blood gushing from his stump. There was no escape, of course. He had not made it more than three steps before he was fully covered in the blades, wrapping around him like a pink nightmare.
"You shinigami bastaaaaard-" Shawlong cried, and then Byakuya cut his cry short. He made a fist again, and millions of blades began to cut, grind, and rip. Shawlong gurgled, his mouth having been filled with blades, too. Byakuya had no doubt it was in excruciating pain, but he took no pleasure in this. The creature's armour would make this more difficult, but it was only a matter of time. Mercilessly, he put his blades to work. Limb by limb came off, and soon Shawlong's carapace, too, had been ripped apart. Within the minute, all that was left of the fierce and lethal Shawlong Qufang was blood and shredded meat, and small pieces of once white fabric dyed entirely red. As he felt Shawlong die, Byakuya recalled his blades, and begun to seal his zanpakutou. A puddle of red goo was all that remained, which would soon fade into nothingness as it had been purified by a zanpakutou. For a moment, Byakuya paused to stare. Such was ever the fate of the Gotei's enemies, ground to dust before their unyielding might.
Then he remembered- of course, Rukia! Wincing again, he set off into the night sparing not another thought for his foe. His duty was done here, and he would now pursue it elsewhere- while looking out for his sister. Honour had been upheld.
The lump of fear in Rukia's throat had quickly dissolved after D-Roy attacked again. She had not expected the arrancar to trump her shikai so easily, but when it all came down to it, power was all he had. His swordplay was still amateurish; wild, strong, and dangerous, but no match for Rukia's excellent form. For a couple of minutes, he had done nothing but strike at her furiously, trying to overwhelm her with sheer speed, perhaps find an opening. He had attempted to grapple with her several times, but Rukia had been too quick, too nimble. Snarling with frustration, the arrancar pushed forward in a pattern all too predictable. Rukia, who had initially been focused only on defense, finally realized she could go on the offense. Catching his blade with ease, she directed it into the ground. Raising her palm, she put her hand right by his chest.
"Shou!" she cried, and the spell fired, sending D-Roy staggering back. He didn't lose his balance, of course, but he didn't have to. Rukia wasn't done.
"Shakkahou!" she called, and from her palm a red fireball sprung, impacting on his head with a satisfying boom. D-Roy swore and staggered back, stunned, and Rukia seized the opportunity. Blade pointed forward, she charged. D-Roy clumsily raised his blade, acting purely on instinct, but Rukia side-stepped his strike with ease and the hit went wide. Her heart beating like a piston, Rukia cut him across the chest, putting as much strength as she could into the strike. To her relief- and satisfaction- the blade cut through the arrancar's skin, a line of red trailing down his stomach. Not finished, and determined to keep him off balance, Rukia stabbed the ground and cried, "Juhaku!"
This close, the wall of ice couldn't miss. A lengthy line of pure cold formed, D-Roy caught just where it formed, the ice enveloping his legs and chest. Fighting for his life, he waved his arms, striking himself free in a matter of seconds, but it had given Rukia all the time she needed. She held her palm up over her head and felt energy swirl in it, fierce and powerful, as she muttered a quick incantation. D-Roy had no sooner broken free than he saw Rukia, sizzling with energy, an alarming yellow orb of lightning in her palm.
"Hadou sixty-three: Raikouhou!" Rukia called, and the spell struck with tremendous speed and force. Fully charged, the blast almost killed the arrancar, and D-Roy tumbled back. Keeping her composure, Rukia carefully advanced at the monster, blade raised. He still seemed alive, trembling as he struggled to get to his feet.
"Damn you, woman…" D-Roy snarled. His clothes had been torn, part of them incinerated by the fire, and he sported a nasty burn on his chest where the spell had first hit. He stood up, if only barely. His left hand hung limp.
"I guess it wouldn't be worth it if I didn't have to go all out," he muttered, a twisted grin creeping across his face. "Still, I didn't think you had it in you."
Rukia sensed his energy output growing, his reiatsu increasing, growing and growing until it peaked. She hesitated. Should she attack? In this state he could be vulnerable, but… the difference between them wasn't that great. One never knew what a hollow might be capable of, especially one with such a new breed of malicious talents.
Within the second, the question became moot. As his energy peaked, D-Roy cried, "Chew, Cabeza de Martillo!"
His blade dissolved, and a second later there was a flash of light as his energy grew and changed, warping to new, frightening levels. Rukia blinked as she saw what he had become. His head remained as strange as ever, only flatter and wider. His arms had become long, muscular and clawed. His body was now long and sleek, with a thick fin on his back complemented by two shorter ones extending from his sides. His legs were long, and just like his arms, bulging with muscle and claw. A tail ran from the end of his back, long and thick. The upper part of his face was obscured by the mask, leaving his jaws open- toothed and frightening.
"Well, then," he said, flexing an arm, "time to eat."
He charged, so fast that Rukia barely even had the time to react.
"Bakudou thirty-nine: Enkousen!" she cried, a simple protective barrier forming just in time. D-Roy barrelled into it, shattering it with ease, but it broke his stride. Rukia rolled out of the way, just barely avoiding a clawed swipe that would have taken her head off.
"Not so tough now, are you?" D-Roy cried triumphantly, snapping after her as he spun around. He moved with a smooth quickness, like a predator on the hunt, and Rukia jumped back, somersaulting away from yet another swipe of his claws. She quickly set into a series of jumps back, trying to adjust to the change.
Her mind worked in overdrive as she evaded, dodged, and jumped. D-Roy was faster, stronger, fully healed, and in all likeliness tougher- but he wasn't doing anything new. He was still charging at her blindly with raw power, only seeming to be more comfortable with this form. One of his strikes cut a lamp post in half, severed in three as if cut by some impossibly sharp razor, and Rukia realized that not doing anything new might be good enough.
"Hadou thirty-two: Oukasen!" Rukia cried, deciding to try something new. The spell was meant to be charged; thrown off-hand, all it did was produce a bright light. It had been just what Rukia needed, though. Confused by the flash, D-Roy stopped his mindless charge for a second, blinking confusedly. Quickly, Rukia took a stance, aiming her blade directly forward.
"Third dance: Shirafune!" she cried. Around her, she felt the zanpakutou obeying her command, moisture gathering in the air around her, growing colder and colder. D-Roy blinked again, his eyes working well enough, and he turned toward her and charged, arms raised to strike. However, he was struck directly in the chest before he even came within striking range. With confusion he watched the blade of Sode no Shirayuki sticking into his chest, piercing his thick, bony armour. Rukia breathed a sigh of relief. The ice had elongated her blade, just in time, and already it was beginning to do its work; the blood had only barely begun to seep out of the wound as it froze, the ice continuing to extend from where it first had struck.
With a snarl, D-Roy brought down a massive arm, shattering the ice. Of course. Why would it ever be that easy? Rukia smoothly rolled out of the way as he charged again, a quick Shou to the ground propelling her several yards further. She landed smoothly on her feet, and ignored the ache in her knees. This was life and death, but maybe- just maybe- she'd find the right way. She had to.
D-Roy did not let up, barrelling down on her with titanic force, and Rukia was hard pressed to avoid him. Her skill was still superior to his brutish move set, but she couldn't let herself be hurt- her endurance, she was sure, was far exceeded by the monster's unnatural constitution. Parrying with blazing speed, she met a flurry of strikes from the monster's claws, taking step by step back, managing to remain aware of her surroundings. There was not much time to think, each strike happening not a second after the last. Suddenly, he swept at her with his tail. Rukia, reacting just in time, jumped over it, but it was a feint- immediately, D-Roy smacked her with a backhand, and Rukia felt the air pushed out of her lungs as she was thrown through the air, impacting forcefully with the brick and mortar of a nearby building. She blinked, seeing stars, knowing she had only seconds to react. She had to have been thrown far, because D-Roy wasn't immediately upon her, and Rukia was just barely able to stand up before he came into view again. The wall behind her had cracked, bricks dropping down to the ground in pieces. Nauseated, Rukia struggled to breathe.
"Eat shit, shinigami- you're dead meat!" D-Roy cried triumphantly, and Rukia sensed victory. He was convinced that he had the upper hand- which was not necessarily untrue, but hollows were nothing if not arrogant when they had some measure of power, and an opponent sure of his victory was an opponent she could defeat. For show, she coughed and swayed on her feet as if she were on the threshold of losing consciousness.
D-Roy took the bait. Shrieking with glee, he charged. To his surprise, Rukia dodged under his horizontal strike with ease, sidestepping the ferocious blow with her head bent low. Slipping into a shunpo, she put a good thirty yards of distance between the two of them, and quickly unleashed a wall of ice toward the arrancar. D-Roy snarled and jumped aside, but Rukia bent her blade, twisting the wall of ice into the arrancar's path. Surprised by the sudden change, D-Roy slammed into the ice headfirst. The wall cracked but didn't break, and D-Roy shook his head confusedly, taking a second to realise what had happened. He roared, and with two swift punches he had cracked the ice, slamming through it like it were nothing, shards of ice spraying across the ground.
Rukia had not stood idle. Turning her blade down, she had raised her off-hand, weaving it up and down in an intricate pattern, as she cried, "Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini!"
D-Roy, recognizing it as kido, barrelled forward at breakneck speed, shouting, "As if I'd let you!"
Rukia realized she wouldn't get the spell off in time, not before he was upon her, and it wouldn't be strong enough without a full incantation. She felt frustration creeping through her mind. In basic kido, one learned that a spell always had to be finished, and if that was not an option, one had to let the energies dissipate, sizzle out. Anything else could result in a dangerous, explosive result that could harm or even kill the user. Kido was no toy; it was called 'demon arts' for a reason.
Letting it finish wasn't possible. Letting it dissipate would just set her back to where she had been before, and… she would eventually tire out. The monster probably had greater energy reserves. Her advantage was her skill and her wider arsenal, a bag of tricks the monster couldn't match. She couldn't get into a tug-of-war with him, because she would lose and die.
Then, it occurred to her. Was it… possible, after all? A captain could probably do it, but it would require mastery of both arts, supreme concentration. She saw D-Roy charge, only a second away, and felt extremely motivated. Concentrating, she maintained the kido energies and slipped into yet another shunpo, knowing she had perhaps a second before the spell sequence had to be continued. Some ten yards away, to his left, she reappeared, and cried, "Look upon yourself with horror!"
D-Roy snarled and came upon her within the second, her voice being more than enough to set him right in his sights. Her face a mask of concentration, Rukia slipped into yet another flash step, dodging a blow that could have cleaved her in two by the narrowest margin.
"-and then claw out-"
D-Roy came at her again, spinning around on the spot with the instinctive speed of an animal having caught the scent of blood. Again, Rukia took a lightning-fast step away.
"-your own throat! Bakudou nine: Geki!"
Making the final movement with her hand, the spell finished, and Rukia felt a massive surge of triumphant joy as the spell fired. Red light glowed briefly, from her entire body, then it faded, and the energy struck D-Roy, the red light reaching around his entire body, covering him from tip to toe. The spell was very basic paralysis, and Rukia knew it wouldn't hold for more than a few seconds, but a few seconds would be enough. D-Roy snarled, straining against it, and hurriedly, Rukia called to her zanpakutou.
"Second dance: Hakuren."
She put the tip of her blade into the ground, and a white circle formed around her. As quickly as she knew her zanpakutou would tolerate, she carefully stabbed the ground in front of her one, two, three, four times, each mark aimed at D-Roy. It was only by the skin of her teeth that she finished; the arrancar roared angrily, knowing what was coming, and finally broke the low-level kido. However, as he charged, he was met by a rapidly advancing cloud of white, encompassing him and everything around him, instantly forming a massive block of ice. Rukia knew it wouldn't be enough, and readied herself. She knew what to do next.
It took nearly a minute this time, the ice being quite thorough- and perhaps the arrancar had tired- but eventually it cracked, shards of ice spraying across the evening sky as D-Roy burst free, large boulders of ice tumbling aside.
"That shit don't work on me, remember?" he snarled, leaping up and forward, landing heavily on the ground. "I'll rip your head off and eat what's left, you little bitch! Hey, where'd you go-"
He suddenly went silent, as without a warning, he felt the icy cold touch of the zanpakutou's edge pierce his throat, sliding a good foot into the softer flesh of his neck.
"Hadou eleven: Tsuzuri Raiden," Rukia said firmly, the lightning spell channeling through her blade and directly into the arrancar's body. D-Roy gurgled and twitched, literally shocked. This was what she had waited for. The ice, although not fatal, had been enough to make him slow, sluggish when he came out, and he hadn't noticed her closing the distance to inside his guard. It had been a risky move, but it had worked. The arrancar trembled, staring at her with hate as the spell ravaged his body. It hurt him, certainly, but it wouldn't be enough. Before he could recover, just as he stopped twitching too badly, Rukia pulled her blade free and stabbed its edge into D-Roy's left elbow joint.
"Third dance: Shirafune," she called quietly as the blade made contact. The ice extended the blade's length, piercing the arrancar's armour. Immediately the blade ran through the joint entirely and began freezing the limb solid. D-Roy, both frozen and shocked, still had the presence of mind to fight back. He raised his free hand. Rukia, knowing she had nothing to guard herself with, quickly let go of the blade with her off-hand and raised it to defend herself.
"Bakudou eight: Seki!" she said firmly, and the spell formed just as D-Roy's hand came down. The spell, although not very powerful, was enough. The arrancar's hand was repelled, a dumbfounded look on D-Roy's face as his arm magically was flung back and away from Rukia. Bought the seconds she needed, Rukia returned her free hand to the blade, and twisted it. Sode no Shirayuki had done its work, and as Rukia broke the zanpakutou free, D-Roy's arm shattered and broke off at the elbow. Rukia jumped back as D-Roy screamed, with anger more than with pain.
A hateful look in his eye, he lashed out at her again with his remaining arm, but Rukia easily skipped back out of his reach. Even missing a limb, the arrancar's determination hadn't lessened, and he moved forward, as brutishly and as powerfully as before. But, his movements had become sluggish, and Rukia evaded each strike from his thick, clawed arm with ease. As he made a hard sideways swipe for her head, she dodged underneath it, then nimbly jumped into the air, once more stabbing her blade down into the arrancar, this time hitting the elbow joint of his other arm. The ice quickly did its work as the blade pierced its armour, shattering the bone with surprising ease. D-Roy, knowing what would come, shrieked and quickly tried to shake her off, but his body wouldn't obey; it was cool and stiff. Rukia easily kept herself stable, driving the blade deeper in, and with a single twist of the blade she sheared his other arm off. The limb fell to the ground frozen solid, and D-Roy didn't even bleed, the blood turned to ice the moment his arm had been severed.
"H-How?" D-Roy demanded confusedly, a tone of complete frustration in his voice. "How the hell, woman? How can you- how can you just cut through my armour like that? I was kicking your ass just a few minutes ago! Were you just faking it all along, you condescending bitch?!"
"No," said Rukia calmly, assuming a stance, "you were indeed powerful. You could easily have been my match if I had not been careful. Your armour is indeed hard, and my blade couldn't penetrate it normally. But what is hard, D-Roy Rinker, becomes brittle when it's cold. My Hakuren could not kill you, but you spent over a whole minute inside of it. Did you think ending your life was my only objective there, arrancar? I am not so simple-minded. When you were trapped, your body temperature cooled rapidly, and the bone on your body became weak, and your reaction time slowed. That's why it was easy for me to break it. That's why you couldn't hit me. It wasn't your lack of strength that killed you, arrancar; it was your lack of strategy."
"Don't you dare look down on me, shinigami bitch!" D-Roy snarled, clumsily lumbering forward. "I ain't done yet-"
In one swift move, Rukia took three steps forward, easily getting in under the arrancar's chest, and stabbed her zanpakutou straight up, the blade piercing his skin with a crack like breaking ice, just where his neck ended. D-Roy let out a gurgle, a last dying snarl, and then his trachea froze solid, along with his vocal chords and, within seconds, his brain. Rukia twisted the blade once, and D-Roy's icy head fell to the ground, breaking into pieces as it impacted. A couple seconds later, his body fell to the ground. D-Roy was dead.
"Yes," she said, "you are."
Rukia breathed out. It hadn't been easy at all- in fact, if he hadn't been so overconfident, she wasn't sure she would have made it. But at the same time, she felt exhilarated, uplifted, her chest swelling with pride. She had taken on an arrancar, one of Aizen's terrifying new warriors, and defeated it in single combat. She had beaten the monster, all through her own power. Her insecurities washed away for a second- she was worthy of this mission!
Then, with a bit of shame, she remembered that the mission was, in fact, still ongoing, and that this was no time for self-congratulation. The others could need her. In the distance, she sensed her brother approaching. She hurried to meet him.
Well, I told you all they were stronger, and boy did I mean it. None of these fights went easy for anyone at all!...Well ok, Soifons did, but she's the one who got the luck of the draw. In this continuity, its Nakeem who's the weakest, not Droy.
In fact, in terms of power it goes 1. Edorad. 2. Shawlong 3. Ylfort. 4. D-roy 5. Nakeem. The top 3 would have been a much tougher ordel if they had activated their zanpaktou, though rest assured she still would have emerged victorious.
Isane and Nemu are DAMN lucky that they had Nozomi come to their aid. Her zanpaktou is a perfect counter to his. (Although its nerfed and not as overpowered like her cannon...I mean filler...whatever, counterparts was.) Also hope you liked Isane's shikai ability. Thank Greatkingrat for that one.
I think the fights that came out the best though are Rukia and Byakuya's. Id like to think we had both fighters (shinigami and arrancar) preform well without either one really looking weak and pathetic and making use of all their skills. The Kuchki siblings truly shined.
But we're not done yet my readers. We still have 3 fights left, and you can be damn well sure they'll be action packed to the max.
Thanks for reading. Please let us know what you thought in a review. It means a lot to us.