Triumph
Chapter 4: The Czar
Héctor had started running as soon as he'd heard the news that Unohana had been stripped of her position as Captain Commander, and the frantic Hell Butterfly from his mother had only served to increase his pace.
He had known since the day the War had ended that this might happen, but Héctor had at least hoped that when the hammer finally fell, it would take a bit longer to make impact. Byakuya's takeover had been swift and absolute, and Héctor had no doubts that a corps of Special Forces trackers had already been sent out to hunt him down. He used shunpo to carry him as far into the Rukongai as Kusajishi before continuing into Zaraki on foot, hoping to throw the hounds off his trail by keeping his reiatsu to a minimum. Fortunately the citizens were too busy brutalizing each other to notice that Héctor was hiding a zanpakuto under his cloak; the Rukongai had become more and more riotous in the wake of the War, and the fringes were the areas most conducive to violent uprisings.
Ducking into an all-but deserted tavern, the Vizard walked up to the bar and tapped on the cracked, warped wood.
"Whaddaya want?" the barman slurred gruffly, and Héctor pointed out a bottle of cheap sake that he was soon forcing down his throat and trying not to vomit back up. His plan was to lure the other Shinigami in here to close quarters and massacre them, but not only would they probably not be that stupid, it also raised another question that Héctor had no desire to confront right now:
What the hell was he going to do?
He could try to run to the Vizards in the Human World, but for all he knew Urahara was working with Byakuya and would rat him out as soon as he saw him. Even Yoruichi, who had played the role of godmother and taught him to perfect his skills in shunpo, would most likely follow in Urahara's footsteps.
Just stay here, his Hollow spoke gratingly in his head. Take their fucking heads. They're going to chop yours off anyway, so ya might as well take some of those fuckers down with you before they do!
The sharp exhortation was loud, but not distracting enough to keep Héctor's eyes from noticing that his hunters had slipped into the bar, taking up seats at the tables by the door to block off the exit. The few patrons that weren't Shinigami were either passed out cold or well on their way, and the barman retreated into a backroom as soon as he felt the seething killing intent settle over the air.
"Give it up, kid," a bald man with a tapestry of scars across his face said. "We've already sent your location back to the squad leaders; even if you kill us, four more squads are going to be after you inside of ten minutes."
"Well then," Héctor replied easily as he unsealed his reiatsu and turned around to face his assailants, "I guess there isn't much of a reason to keep you bastards alive, now is there?"
The eight Special Forces soldiers advanced swiftly on their target, the cramped confines of the room doing them no favors as Héctor closed his eyes and focused. Moving his hand slowly over to the hilt of his zanpakuto and gripping it tightly, he waited for the right moment to draw. As soon as his enemies were within striking distance, Héctor popped the katana partway out of its sheath and then drew it fully in one smooth motion, cutting in a wide arc with the next beat before effortlessly re-sheathing the sword, stopping all eight of the would-be assassins cold. As he smirked and began to walk over towards the door, though, he heard four voices speak out in unison behind him.
"Bakudo number 9: Geki!"
Cursing himself bitterly for having been stupid enough to drop his guard after landing just one strike, Héctor could only stand there, rigid, as the paralyzing kido froze every muscle in his body.
"Now, while he can't move," the bald man's voice called out. "Seize him!"
The other four Special Forces soldiers moved forward and clamped down a reiatsu-sealing collar on his neck and identical cuffs around his arms, before the final soldier pushed a shard of sekki-sekki stone through his shoulder; it was a non-lethal point that would still both seal off his reiatsu and hurt enough to immobilize the target. The Vizard crumpled powerlessly to the ground, blood from the wound seeping out onto the wooden floor beneath him as he lay there unmoving in defeat.
Some minutes passed before Héctor heard the soft footfalls of the backup units the bald man had mentioned earlier, and soon enough he had been hauled to his feet as hands gripped his shoulders roughly and the Vizard was marched out like a prize of war. He was able to walk under his own power for a few steps, but soon the blood loss began to rob his legs of their strength and he slumped, pant-legs becoming stained with dust as they were dragged along the ground.
Amara was walking through the halls of Fourth Division with purpose in her stride, intent on tracking down Daisuke so that she could issue her challenge to him, when she overheard some excited voices that made her stop dead in her tracks.
"What?" one voice exclaimed incredulously. "The Captain Commander was forced to step down, and they threw her in the Maggot's Nest? What happened?"
"Turns out that traitor Gin Ichimaru's been alive this whole time, and Unohana had him working for her on the sly! Can you believe that? I heard Captain Kuchiki's the new Captain Commander now, and he chucked Captain Soi Fon into a cell as well!"
"But that's not even the best part," another voice joined in raucously. "I hear Kuchiki's gonna order an assault on Hueco Mundo soon, and those Arrancar won't see it coming! It's about time we broke that stupid truce, if y'ask me."
Amara's gray-blue eyes widened as she took in the news, unsure how exactly to react.
Her father was alive. Her guardian of all these years had known he was alive, and Unohana had lied through her teeth. She might have been able to meet her father, to get to know him, to try and understand why he had never shown his face to her even once all of these years. But instead she had been kept in the dark, and now Amara wasn't even sure if she'd be able to see him at all, traitor on death row that he was.
And if the other rumor was true, if Byakuya was seriously considering breaking the truce with the Arrancar to the point that he had placed Soi Fon in the Maggot's Nest to keep her quiet, then Héctor was in serious trouble. How long before Byakuya decided he was a liability, if he hadn't already? Swallowing hard and forcing her head to keep an even keel, Amara banished all thoughts of challenging Daisuke from her mind and bolted out of the Fourth Division building, headed for the headquarters of the Second Division.
"So," Yumichika asked as the Captains met once again, "when should we launch our attack?"
"The sooner, the better in my opinion," Komamura spoke up strongly. "If we wait too long, Grimmjow will get suspicious when he hasn't heard from either Soi Fon or Héctor, and we would sacrifice the element of surprise. That advantage will be crucial to our success, and we cannot afford to lose it; our opponents are all Arrancar that were once members of the Espada, after all, and are not to be taken lightly."
"I agree with Sajin," Kira joined. "Though they may be few in number, we still face the Primera, Seguenda, Tercera, Sexta and Novena Espada, to say nothing of the rogue Arrancar Barragan Luisenbarn and Ulquiorra Schiffer."
"Ulquiorra may still be observant of the terms of the truce," Shunsui said thoughtfully, "but Barragan is a wild card."
"I think we should send Yumichika, Kira, Renji, Komamura, Shiro and myself," Hisagi suggested. "The Captain Commander should stay here to cement his position, and Kyoraku-san, Inoue and Matsumoto can remain here as a guard against any Hollow incursions or unrest in the Rukongai."
Ukitake bristled silently at the omission of his name, but a cough that rattled his ribcage and the blood that forced its way past his lips proved Hisagi's discretion right.
"I can think of no flaws in that plan," Byakuya spoke at last, sparing Ukitake a concerned glance as he did so. "Very well: the six of you will comprise the strike team. Shiro, I assume you can open up a garganta strong enough to support the group in its entirety?"
"Absolutely," the Hollow replied, a murderous gleam in his eyes that made Orihime sick to her stomach.
"One thing more, however," Byakuya added. "If you can manage it, I want as many of these Espada to be brought back here alive as possible."
"Why?" Komamura growled. "What possible benefit could there be to leaving them alive?"
"Because any triumph needs its prisoners, Sajin," Byakuya replied calmly. "We must unite all of Soul Society behind a common enemy once more in order to completely quell the unrest amongst these foolish peasants, and that enemy is the Arrancar."
"I agree," Yumichika added. "Nothing like a public execution to raise morale."
"Still, there is the risk of their escape," Shunsui cautioned coolly, but Byakuya stilled his concerns with a smile.
"There will be no risks involved in this, Kyoraku. Each of the prisoners will be confined to a cell in the Maggot's Nest, and their zanpakuto will be erased from existence by Captain Orihime. Couple their lack of weaponry with reiatsu-negating restraints, and even the fiercest of the Espada will be reduced to nothing more than a fangless beast."
The meeting was adjourned shortly after Byakuya's final comment, and Orihime was walking back towards the entrance to the First Division's headquarters alongside Shunsui and Ukitake when the Captain of the Thirteenth Division stopped walking and started coughing violently.
"Ukitake-san!" Orihime called out in concern, wordlessly materializing her Soten Kisshun while Shunsui held his friend upright. The two Captains exchanged worried looks while Ukitake stayed silent underneath the golden dome, the exertion of his fit having drained him considerably. Ever since the War Ukitake's condition had worsened considerably; twenty years of imprisonment under Aizen had done him no favors physically, and the psychological duress had also taken a large toll on the already-frail Shinigami.
"Come on," Shunsui said gently as he led his friend away once Orihime was done administering her treatment, "I'll make you some tea; it's getting late, and you need your rest."
Giving Fourth's Captain a final look of gratitude over his shoulder, Shunsui cleared the threshold of First Division and flashed away in a powerful burst of shunpo. Orihime sighed sadly, knowing that her treatments were stopgap measures at best; still, she would do what she could to keep Ukitake-san alive regardless. Kaien Shiba was dead, and the last thing Rukia needed to hear was that her other mentor had joined him in the afterlife.
The thought of Rukia shifted the direction of Orihime's steps, and soon enough she found herself in front of the door to Rukia's room, the quarters of the Thirteenth Division's Lieutenant. When her initial knocks weren't answered, Orihime pushed open the door softly and walked in.
Rukia was standing by her open window, back to the door. In the distance Orihime could make out the hills glimmering in the setting sun where she had said that she used to train with Kaien, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what was going through her mind.
"Renji broke the news to me earlier," she said with a detached voice, still coming to grips with the fact that Kaien was gone. "I just can't believe that the Arrancar would do such a thing."
Orihime had to bite her tongue to keep from voicing her own suspicions on Kaien Shiba's death; the last thing Rukia needed to hear right now was that Shiro was most likely the one who had done the deed, and that he was now wearing the haori of Kaien's former Division.
"Inoue," Rukia asked wistfully, dragging Orihime out of her own murky thoughts, "do you remember that summer of the year I'd first come to the Human World, when we all went to go see those fireworks?"
"Yeah," she answered, walking forward to stand next to her friend and admire the dying sunlight, "I do. I had no idea how good we had it back then."
"I did," Rukia replied ruefully, "but I was naïve enough to think it would last. Do you think we'll ever be able to do that again?"
Orihime had the negative reply perched on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it and replaced it with a smile that she hoped managed to be reassuring.
"When we make it through this, I promise we will."
Rukia mirrored her friend's drawn smile, sadness still seeping through in her amethyst gaze.
"It won't be the same without him, though."
"No, it won't," Orihime agreed, returning her gaze to the hillside, "but it'll be better for both of us this way, all the same."
Rukia shifted her gaze back to the sunset as well, a thin veil of calm showing again in her expression as the blood orange orb dipped below the horizon.
"True."
The cloaked figure stood at the doors to the headquarters of Second Division, waiting patiently until their reiatsu signature was verified and the huge oak barrier split down the middle and swung back, clearing the way to enter. The Shinigami continued on with deliberate strides through the grounds, until they reached the second set of doors signifying the entrance into the Maggot's Nest, the most secure holding facility in Soul Society outside of the Senzaikyu tower. A guard at the top of the stairs asked for the visitor's zanpakuto and it was relinquished before they continued to trek through the gloomy prison, weaving their way through the catacombs until they came to the room where the newest prisoners, and the most highly-guarded, resided.
Soi Fon sat in contemplation with a smirk on her face, no doubt mining dark humor from the irony of the fact that she was now a prisoner in the very jail she had been warden over for so long. Héctor was asleep, and Unohana was deep in meditation as her wrists chaffed subconsciously against the sekki-sekki shackles that bound her wrists and had chains attached to them that led back to the wall, anchoring the cuffs like leashes. The person that the visiting Shinigami had come to see, however, was staring right in their direction, no smile on the lips that sat drawn in a thin line beneath faintly smoldering garnet eyes.
"Hello, Rangiku," Gin said seriously as Matsumoto pulled back the hood of her cloak and matched the intensity of her oldest friend's gaze. She said nothing for a few moments, but when she spoke her voice was as cold as he had ever heard it.
"I want to kill you, Gin."
"Then do it," Gin parried instantly, his voice as level as it always was when they fought. "They might have taken away your zanpakuto, but you can still use kido. Put a Byakurai right through my skull, Rangiku. Do it."
Matsumoto raised her forefinger and began to gather the energy needed to perform the very kido Gin had suggested. It flickered and fizzled as her resolve weakened, though, the outstretched finger closing into a tightly balled fist that shook with anger and self-loathing at her weakness.
"It's all your fault," she hissed. "It's all your fault! I gave up my daughter because I thought you were dead and I didn't think I could raise her alone. You cost me… you cost us the chance to have a family! So why can't I kill you?"
Gin's eyes softened almost imperceptibly with pity, something that only someone who had known him as long as Matsumoto had would have noticed. But rather than console her, it only served to make the enraged Shinigami even angrier.
"I can't answer that question for you, Rangiku," Gin said softly, his mask that he had worn under Aizen's command gone completely. "All I can tell you is that I'm sorry, even though I know that's not nearly enough."
"You're not lying, are you?" she asked with mild disbelief, and he shook his head.
"I could never lie to you, Rangiku, and you know that. Why do you think I always ran away in the dead of the night before you woke up? I knew that if you asked me where I was going I would've told you, and I couldn't have put you in that much danger."
Matsumoto felt her knees beginning to shake despite herself, torn between fury that Gin had abandoned her and keen sorrow over the fact that, had he chosen to stay despite the risk to his life, they might have had a future together. A very furtive, insecure and dangerous future, but a future nonetheless.
"Why did you have to come back that night?" she asked with the last shreds of spite she could muster. "Why couldn't you have just died without breaking my heart all over again?"
Gin flinched at the raw words as they dug in to him, the truth cutting deeper than any sword.
"Because I was then and have always been a selfish bastard," he answered with utter sincerity, "and because I couldn't walk to my death in peace without telling you that I loved you."
The answer seemed to snap something deep inside Matsumoto, and this time the red light of a Shakkaho hovered dangerously in front of her raised hand.
"What're you waiting for, Rangiku?" Gin prodded. "I'm not running away this time."
Matsumoto looked into Gin's eyes long and hard, and for several moments neither of them so much as twitched. But then the Captain closed her hand around the kido, extinguishing it.
"No," she said, "I'm not going to kill you here, and give you the peace of an easy death. Someone like you needs to know what it feels like to live with a broken heart, Gin; only when you've suffered like I've suffered am I going to take your life away from you."
Matsumoto turned and walked swiftly from the room, leaving Gin powerless to do anything more than bow his head and be silent.
Grimmjow was sitting on top of one of the jagged towers that dotted the falsely sunlit interior of Las Noches lost in thought when he felt a presence appear behind him, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you want, Eris?"
"To talk, Grimmjow."
The other Arrancar scoffed.
"What could we possibly have to talk about?"
"You've felt it too, haven't you?" the former Primera said seriously as she walked over and sat down beside Grimmjow. "Something in the wind is changing."
The former Sexta wasn't about to disagree: a feeling of distinct nausea had been coiling in his gut for the past few hours, and he could tell that something bad had happened to either Héctor or Soi. It seemed totally irrational, and he couldn't quite explain why he was so certain, but the overwhelming dread was undeniable.
"We all knew this day was going to come sooner or later, Eris," a third voice chimed in as Saika joined the pair of Arrancar on the tower. "A truce between two people that have lived for millennia doing nothing but killing each other wasn't bound to last for very long."
"I suppose we did invest too much into one person, true," Eris conceded, "and that was foolish on my part. Still, these years of peace have been quite nice while they've lasted."
"For you, yeah," Grimmjow broke back in with a half-growl. "I haven't seen Soi Fon in ages, and my kid in longer."
"We never forced you to stay here, Jaegerjaques," Saika parried evenly. "Why didn't you just go back to Soul Society for one of the diplomatic envoys, instead of leaving them to Eris, Stark and I every time?"
"'Cause she already gets enough flak for being the mother of our child, Aron," Grimmjow answered with simmering anger. "She doesn't need me there physically to make it even worse."
"And you think just hanging her out to dry like this is any better on your part?" the former Tercera pressed, and Grimmjow's anger finally snapped.
"Listen, you asshole," he began, but Eris released a burst of reiatsu that stopped the quarrel before it had truly started.
"Enough, you two," she said in a stern, yet placating tone. "The last thing we need right now is internal feuding. Speaking of which, have either of you heard from Barragan?"
"What do you think, Eris?" Saika answered tersely. "Of course I haven't."
"He's dead."
All three Arrancar turned their heads at the sound of Stark's laconic voice, as the former Seguenda stood looking lazily out at the horizon.
"What do you mean?" Grimmjow asked, and Stark shifted his detached gaze over to regard the other Arrancar.
"What does it sound like I mean, Grimmjow? Barragan's dead. Ulquiorra killed him not too long ago."
"Ulquiorra? Really?" Saika exclaimed in mild surprise. "Huh. Didn't think he had it in him, to be honest. How'd you find out about this, Stark? I haven't felt any trace of their reiatsu in a long time."
"I was just out wandering, and it was hard not to feel that much reiatsu all focused in one spot. What were you doing that had you so occupied, Aron?"
The Tercera didn't reply, but it was obvious from the guarded looks that passed fleetingly over his face as well as Eris' what they'd been doing.
"What happened to Ulquiorra?" Grimmjow prompted, and Stark just shrugged.
"Both his and Barragan's reiatsu faded away at the same time," he said. "Could've been mutual death, but there was no way to confirm it. Either way," he finished, "they're both out of commission for now, and I have no idea where that kid Wonderwice ran off to."
"So, long story short," Eris finished for him, "if Soul Society decides to make a move now, it's the four of us against whatever they decide to throw our way."
"That's nothing," Saika shot back derisively. "Even if they've spent the last 25 years doing nothing but training, they'd still be a few centuries behind us."
A sudden surge of reiatsu nearby drew the attention of all four Arrancar immediately, and a few heartbeats later a huge garganta was ripped open before them, hovering over a nearby tower.
"Oh, really?" a harsh, mocking voice spoke out of the gaping maw as Shiro stepped into the light, followed by the rest of Byakuya's chosen kill squad. "Care to put those words to the test, Aron?"
"Well, this isn't exactly how I envisioned starting off my morning," Saika grumbled casually, but everyone could feel his aura shift into one composed of rock-solid killing intent. "Still," he finished as a grin flashed onto his face and his orange eyes gleamed with bloodlust,
"This should be fun regardless."
The four Arrancar split off in bursts of sonido, breaking up the Shinigami attack force and setting off explosions of power all throughout Las Noches as they clashed.
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A/N: Man, more intensity. Hope the chapter was enjoyable despite its decidedly bleak tone, and as usual, please review! Big ups as always to JasoTheArtisan for beta'ing with the endurance of a pro triathelete.
