Author's note: Thirty fucking chapters. Someone punch me. Punch me right in the kidneys.

There is a reason for absolutely everything I do do not question me just trust me friend we are on an adventure.

Credit to by beta Namayani who is awesome because not only is this very time-consuming but I am very obstinate.

Rubble gets crushed underfoot, grinding into the ground and expelling tufts of dust that drift skyward and catch on eyelashes like flecks of snow. With all the occupants of the district removed, the scene of destruction is possessed by an eerie quietness, and the air tastes dirty and stale. Nothing, not even a brush of wind, unsettles the corpse-like stillness of what used to be an occupied and lively neighborhood.

The small party of shinigami clambers through the ruins. To Renji, their group rummaging around, standing against the scenery of the leveled and colorless backdrop, makes the scene look out of place, lonely, like they've walked in on a stranger's funeral.

Rukia's face seems pensive, thoughtful to the point where Renji's has no idea what she's thinking about. "Is this what it was like when you and Captain Muguruma fought the first creature?" she asks Shuuhei.

"Well, yes. I didn't exactly see how far the damage extended, but entire streets were wrecked much like this," Shuuhei confirms, narrowing his eyes at the ground as he backtracks through his memories. "But… I couldn't have gone right through this district more than an hour ago. I didn't realize how fast something like this could happen."

Which also means that if the creature that caused so much destruction feels the urge to attack again, it could be at virtually any moment. But nobody needs to be told that. Without further instruction, the group disperses to cover more ground, and Renji dutifully stomps off into his own self-assigned direction. His shadow accompanies him, stretching across the lonely streets and dilapidated structures and reminding him of the sun hanging in an empty sky overhead and crawling across the sky. They've been out in the districts since morning, when it was still dark, herding the citizens of Rukongai towards the promise of safety. All of that work done, that optimistic plan to quarantine souls as if it would help, all of it just for another disaster to happen.

Renji finds its rarely in his best interest to think negatively. It's probably best if he casts those thoughts from his mind and just tries to focus on the job in front of him.

That being said, it's a little hard for Renji to stay focused. With everything going on, what is actually happening in front of his eyes feels a little surreal. On one hand, back in Seireitei, his job and rank are at potential risk and his friends are different levels of alienated from him, and he doesn't want to even think about how he should feel about that. He still hasn't told Shuuhei what Byakuya said, he wonders if he even should. It's not really Shuuhei's business, but Renji has a feeling he'd like to know anyways.

On the other hand, it's a war-zone out here in Rukongai and Renji keeps getting stuck on the fact that nothing is really getting done to help the situation. Maybe Shuuhei's right, and it's just because Renji hasn't seen the souls in their monstrous, deformed state for himself yet that he's so hung up on this, but Shuuhei didn't see the kid in the labs, either.

In all honesty, he's well aware of the fact that his personal feelings are probably clouding his judgment, but there's the lingering sense of uneasiness about the whole situation, like Renji's gut is trying to tell his brain something it should already know.

"Hey, Renji!" Rukia's urgent voice calling out to him from a distance shakes Renji out of his thoughts. "There's someone still here. Come give me a hand."

From a ways away, it appears that Rukia is crouched in front of a larger piece of the collapsed wreckage. She rocks on the balls of her feet, gesturing impatiently for Renji to come quickly.

Closer inspection reveals the reason why; a small figure laying flat underneath the rubble, unseen except for a petite arm reaching out to clasp Rukia's palm and squeezing it until the knuckles are white. A refugee who managed to avoid being absorbed into the monster with all the other souls.

Rukia looks relieved by Renji's arrival, saying gently to the person under the debris. "You see? He came just like I said. We're going to get you out of there now."

The refugee whimpers, possibly in confirmation, though the grip on Rukia's hand doesn't relent for a minute or so before it finally releases her.

Rukia instructs Renji to take the heaviest part of the wreckage and hoist it up, which Renji would theoretically have no problem with. The issue of the matter, in fact, is that the debris is heavier than Renji would have thought, and even with his own exceptional strength on the job he's wary of the person buried underneath.

"Be more careful! If you drop that you'll crush-" An alarmed squeak makes Rukia backtrack mid-sentence. She seethes in internal frustration as she sets herself to pushing aside smaller rocks and bits of rubble. "Just don't drop that."

"Thanks, I'll try to hold on to that sentiment." Renji grunts, pushing up a slab of wall from over the refugee. What was it he learned in training? Lift with your legs, not with your back? Or maybe it was the other way around.

From around the bolder in his arms, he sees the refugee- a tiny thing of a woman, petite and childish in her stature- wriggle out to freedom. Renji waits for Rukia to confirm that she's out of the way before he drops the load from his arms to crash back down to the ground.

Rukia immediately sets inquiring about the refugee, although the insistence of her tone makes her concern sound more like an interrogation. "Are you alright? Do you remember what happened to you before that building collapsed on you- oh!"

Renji looks where Rukia's gaze is and notices what had Rukia faltering. Various scrapes and bruises decorate the woman's body like a violent collage, most prominently scrapes on her arms and feet and a fresh, red bruise over her eye. A deep slash begins on the woman's ankle, traveling upwards in a long slice up to her knee. The wound has ceased bleeding and is probably infected with who knows what kind of bacteria, and if the long, shuddering breaths rattling the woman's chest are anything to go by than the injury feels as bad as it looks.

Shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the two shinigamis' gazes, the woman drags her hem down to cover some of the wound. "It hurts." She admits meekly, answering the unanswered question. "I- I don't know if I can move on it."

"We, uh, we're gonna need-" Renji stops himself, "Can we even get healers out here?"

Rukia gets a thoughtful look on her face, unconsciously gnawing on the nail of her pinkie finger. "Well, I've only ever seen the relief teams tend to wounded shinigami… but I don't see why not. Besides, its not exactly like there are any doctors around right now."

"Hey!" The voice of Ikkaku drags Renji's attention away to search for the third seat a few meters away, "I thought we were hunting! What're you two up to over there? Playing with rocks?"

"We found a survivor over here!" Rukia answers in earnest, kneeling down to gesture to the refugee. "I'm going to call for some medical support."

"A what?" The other two lieutenants hear the commotion, and Iba approaches with Shuuhei close behind him. Ikkaku lags behind, keeping an eye out on the perimeter. Iba's eyes covered by thick black lenses look down at the young woman, who goes rigid and frightened under the attention of more strangers. "Lucky break, eh? How'd she manage to avoid getting absorbed into the creature?"

It's a fair question. Renji and Rukia look back down to the young woman expectantly, and she seems to shrink. She holds her limbs close to her body as if she wants to fold into her already tiny frame.

"Uh, well you see." The woman stammers, looking close to tears. "I don't… I don't really know-"

As soon as she stuttered out those words, she pauses very suddenly, very briefly with her eyes focused on Shuuhei as he draws closer to the crowd. "I know you!"

Shuuhei looks taken aback, and Renji is perfectly prepared for him to tell the woman that she's mistaken him, but then realization seems to dawn on his face. "You were in the district I was evacuating."

She looks more at ease to see a familiar face, even it its only the face of someone she only briefly met. "You helped me, now you're helping me again."

"That's right." Shuuhei confirms for her, in a controlled, professional tone that Renji can easily imagine makes people want to trust him. "We'll get you a healer from the Court Guards to treat your wounds, alright? We'll keep you safe."

The woman retreats at the mention of healers again. "Is all that really necessary? I don't want all this—this fuss about healers and relief team and shinigami. I was traveling with people, and I really just- I really want to find them first."

"You mentioned that to me. You were looking for your brother, right?" Shuuhei asks, but the woman only stares at him in response.

She blinks, face looking very blank and very pale. "Who?"

"Uh, your brother." Shuuhei supplies, beginning to sound only a fraction of a little frustrated with the woman's lack of cooperation. "You said back in the district you were looking for him. He was traveling ahead of you?"

"Did I say that? I guess it must be true, then…" She doesn't sound very convinced.

At Renji's side, Rukia mutters, "Need to have them check for cranial damage… concussions can cause memory gaps, if I recall correctly."

It feels like something just dropped into the pit of Renji's stomach, making his skin squirm. The image of the boy in the labs floods back to him yet again, and the muddled, chaotic confusion of his thoughts.

Just like he did when taking to the kid, Renji crouches down in front of the woman to meet her at eye level.

"Hey," He keeps his face neutral, to keep the sudden foreboding nervousness from betraying his theory. "What's your name?"

She looks perplexed by the question, perhaps even a little affronted. "Excuse me?"

"Your name. I don't think we caught it, did we?" He presses, a little more urgency slipping into his voice.

"It's, uh…" She falters, eyes widening as she seems to realize she doesn't have an answer. "My mind's a little fuzzy. My head hurts."

"C'mon, a given name? Family name? Even a nickname would do. Can't you remember any of that?"

"Renji, it doesn't matter." Rukia assures him, but Renji keeps pushing.

He'll feel guilty if it turns out to be a false alarm, but Renji lets himself ask again with a more stern, commanding tone. "I'm just asking for a name. It shouldn't be that hard."

Anger flashes in the woman's eyes, pulling her lips back into a grimace for half a second before pressing tightly together and smoothing out into a sulk. Is it Renji's imagination or is that wound on her eye healing already, because it now looks much too old to be a fresh bruise. It doesn't even look like a bruise now, the soft, discolored flesh hardened into a dark maroon, like an old burn scar. Where did that come from?

"Please leave me alone." Her voice is trembles as she speaks but Renji gets the impression it's not from shock or fear.

But then her eyes get big and sad again, and she turns them into Shuuhei with a pleading look. Which is maybe a little infuriating, because even since this woman doesn't know it Shuuhei is supposed to be on Renji's side.

Shuuhei pretends he doesn't see the woman's meaningful look, but he fidgets ever so slightly and gives Renji an pleading expression of his own, like he'd really appreciate an explanation for why Renji is bullying the refugee of a traumatic attack. "What's on your mind, Renji?"

Well, he did ask. And the others seem perfectly content with keeping an eye out for anything suspicious and protecting the little tag-a-long. Renji stands up and motions for Shuuhei to follow him. "Shuuhei, can I borrow you for a minute? I wanna talk to you about something."

Renji turns to lead Shuuhei away from the group.

Which was perhaps his mistake, because that's when the world explodes in a huge, sudden burst of spiritual energy as soon as he turns his back that knocks him off balance. He registers the alarmed noises of the other shinigami and a heavy noise like a body hitting the ground hard.

What happens next is a confusing blur of speed and force, a whoosh of movement in the corner of Renji's eye. The next instant an iron grip clamps around his throat and squeezes with a pressure that crushes the air from his windpipe.

Automatically, Renji grasps the hand that's strangling him, trying to pry the fingers apart. Through the struggle for air, he can register a similar force that yanks his arm away, bending it at an angle that threatens to pull it out of its socket.

From the unseen force attacking him from behind, more hands lunch forward and grab at him, bony fingers clawing at him from all sides and nails scraping against his skin. There's a sound of breathing, shallow and labored, exhaling a foul breath against his ear.

One hand forces itself over his face, with bony, knobby-knuckled fingers covering his mouth and nose, cutting off what little air Renji was able to attain with the first hand still pressing down on his throat. Struggling, he bites down on the hand, clamping his jaw closed and sinking his teeth into the softer flesh of the palm. He tastes something thick and nauseating flood into his mouth and slither down his throat and turns his stomach to acid.

A scream comes from a distance, and the countless grips on Renji all jolt and spasm. The smell of burning flesh is accompanied by the creature's heavy breathing turning to a pathetic moan of pain.

The monster's grasp falters, freeing Renji enough that he can lurch forward and fall to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. Rukia's voice calls out, maybe to him or to perform another kido, but Renji is preoccupied with retching up the creature's blood. It dribbles down his chin in viscous black rivets, smearing against his skin everywhere it touches.

The shadow of the creature looming above him darkens Renji's vision, and with one hand already tightening around the hilt of Zabimaru, he turns to face the thing that the woman became.

Looking at the creature, makes Renji want to wretch again. It crawls towards him on a collection of at least half a dozen furious, scrawny hands that stumble over each other, working in hectic cooperation to support the monster's bloated body. Each arm—no legs or feet so far that Renji can determine, just lanky arms with bony hands—connects to uncomfortable-looking joints protruding along its torso that shifts as it scuttles across the ground like a spider. Its raspy breathing intensifies at it lifts its head and meets Renji's gaze with one huge, glassy eye framed by saggy, russet skin.

It balances precariously, using half its arms to support its body and the other half threateningly extending into the space around it, curled into claws, baring long nails like talons. It pushes forward, lunging to attack but this time Renji is ready. Zabimaru slices through the thing's limbs easily with one swing, chopping the brittle arms down to oozing stumps.

At the sudden loss of balance, the monster wobbles slightly on its remaining limbs before toppling over and rolling onto its back, hands and stumps alike pathetically flailing in the air. Before it can regain balance, a blade attached to something long and solid pierces its neck, the shaft of Hozukimaru pinning the creature to the ground.

Ikkaku, standing over the arachnidan monster, twists his zanpakuto in his grip, drawing a hiss of pain. He regards the the flailing, crying beast with distaste as it pitifully writhes around the spear penetrating its body.

"I changed my mind. I hate these monsters. They're not even fun to fight, just gross and depressing. But at least we've got a sample of this thing for the freaks at the Twelfth," Ikkaku points out, craning his neck to look back at Renji. "You better be okay over there, Abarai. Don't, like, die or anything."

"I'll do my best," Renji assures him sourly, picking himself up off his knees. Something touches his shoulder and, with the adrenaline from the monster's sneak attack still running through his veins, he pulls away from the touch into an attack stance, Zabimaru's blood-stained blade ready in his hand.

Shuuhei looks down Renji's blade with obvious shock and alarm, taking a step backwards.

"Shit, sorry." Renji lowers his sword guiltily, trying to force himself to calm down.

Shuuhei gives him a tiny half-smile and looks relieved, perhaps because Renji isn't hurt or because he's not pointing Zabimaru at him or a combination of the two. "No harm done. Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

There's a sound a few feet away of rubble stirring: Rukia is trying to revive an unconscious Iba where he lies under the dark stain of where his head hit the ruins of a brick wall. She repositions the other vice-captain into a sitting position where debris can't do further damage to his wound before looking back to the others. "Lieutenant Iba isn't waking up! I'm going to call for the Fourth Division, after we get rid of…" She gestures towards the abomination at Ikkaku's feet, looking for an appropriate word for a minute before giving up. "… that thing."

This comment seems to spur a new interest for the monster in Ikkaku, who points out, "You know, we don't really have a name for these things yet. Do we just keep calling them 'monster' and 'creature'? Because that could get kind of confusing with how much weird shit we all regularly run into."

"You want to give them a fun nickname or something?" Renji snorts, trying and failing to drag his gaze away from the mangled body on the ground.

Shuuhei gives Ikkaku a dubious look. "It does seem a little weird. What can you call them that won't sound unfitting or stupid?"

Ikkaku shrugs, "It was just a thought-"

The conversation is interrupted when the creature makes a high whining noise, drawing the attention of the shinigami back to it. Its voice is garbled and choked around the spear in its throat, it sounds like a noise of resignation.

Rukia flinches from the body on the ground and turns her face to the side, though her eyes are still locked on the thing. "If you're going to kill the creature so we can bring the body to the Twelfth, just do it now. I don't want to listen to her anymore."

"Her." That was the first time Renji heard someone refer to one of the monsters as anything but "it". The thought is jarring for some reason.

"Huh?" Ikkaku looks slightly startled by Rukia's insistence. "Oh, yeah. Okay."

Ikkaku's zanpakuto slides out of the creature with a sticky, wet noise, blood welling up from the wound on the otherwise immobile creature. He drags Hozukimaru's blade upwards, letting it hover over the arachnid-monster's head.

The human soul—human souls— in that miserable excuse of a body have lost all sense of reasoning, Renji knows. It's just an empty shell of people that once were. Still, Renji has to think that it's sad for anyone's last sight to be down the business end of a spear.

Hozukimaru strikes towards the ground, heading straight towards the creature's skull before Ikkaku freezes. The blade of his zanpakuto jerks and halts over the thing's glassy eye. One of the monster's remaining hands is wrapped around the shaft of the spear, holding in place with a shocking amount of strength.

Ikkaku's chuckle comes out dry, addressing the wretched being on the ground. "Still got a little fight left in you, huh? Not that I don't appreciate that, but…"

Next to Renji, Shuuhei starts as if something has just now occured to him. He's steps forward, towards Ikkaku and the creature. "Kill it now! It's regenerating-"

A burst of black explodes from one of the spider-monster's bloody stumps. It shapes itself and solidifies into a new arm, which strikes up towards Ikkaku and rakes its nails down his shoulder, claws hooking into flesh and refusing to release. The third-seat curses, trying to pull both his weapon and himself away from the creature's grip,succeeding only in tearing the wound open further as more of its arms healed themselves. Several hands pushed the monster's torso off the ground, lifting it back up off the ground, using Ikkaku to pull itself up and sinking it's claws deeper into the gash in his shoulder in the process.

"Hado Number Thirty-One!" Rukia raises her hands, gathering spiritual energy. "Shakkaho!"

The bolt of red energy strikes the beast in the face, snapping its head to the side in a burst of smoke and making it recoil. Ikkaku roars as the talons come out of his shoulder caked in blood and chunks of flesh caught on the claws like meathooks. A small crater oozes blood down Ikkaku's arm and chest, but tightens his grip on his zanpakuto with the hand of his good arm and raises it in preparation for an attack.

But the strike doesn't come. There's a flash of black light where the creature is, and then it's gone from sight.

For a second or some similarly sized slice of frozen time, everyone is still as statues, ready for the monster to reappear. There's no attack, but there's a frantic scraping sound from some indefinite corner of the rubble. A noise of scuttling and nails scraping against stone.

Rukia breaks the silence first, head snapping back in the direction of Iba's unconscious form. "We should get him out of here. He's the most vulnerable of us like this. We can worry about the creature after we find a healer to take him off our hands."

No one disagrees, and Renji elects himself as the first one to cross the stretch of ruins to the other lieutenant's side. He lifts one of Iba's burly arms over his shoulders, surprised by how light the other man is. Looking over, he realizes it's actually because Ikkaku is trying supporting Iba from the other side.

"For fucks' sake." Renji glowers at his former mentor.

Ikkaku gives him an oblivious look, as if he were completely unaware of his own injuries. "What?"

"Could you please go take a breather or something? You just got attacked by the thing, and we don't need you passing out from blood-loss because you exhausted yourself."

Blood is still trickling down Ikkaku's arm, shoulder and chest. He plainly favors his wounded side, putting all of Iba's weight on the other and looking strained for it.

"Who's exhausted? I'm fine." Ikkaku argues, a stubborn look in his eye. "I've had much worse than one little flesh wound."

"There's a hole in your shoulder. What if you, like, tear the muscles or the joints there and your whole arm comes off?"

"Eh."

Renji knows its pointless to argue- Ikkaku wouldn't accept help even if he knew he needed it. Nor would anyone in the Eleventh Division, if Renji's own experiences in his old squad have any bearing whatsoever. Still, Renji shoves and kicks Ikkaku from around Iba's unconscious body until he releases and let's Renji carry their passed out co-worker by himself.

Once he's finally given up, Ikkaku grumbles. "Seriously, the only thing I hate more than sneak attacks are cowardly retreats. These monsters are no fun to fight if all they do is jump at us before running off.."

"I would not have put that as the top reason why they aren't fun."

"I don't want to dwell on the other reasons too much. Bad luck to think negatively in a fight or something."

By the time they've dragged Iba over to the other two shinigami, Rukia already has her phone out.

"… I'm saying we've been attacked. There are injuries! Is there a meet-up point somewhere? Can we at least get someone over here to take Vice-Captain Iba to the Fourth Division?"

This follows a brief period of silence on Rukia's end, broken eventually by a noise of confirmation. "We're in the Rukongai, between District Seventy-five to Eighty. Landmarks? Um…"

Shuuhei glares at their surroundings, posture rigid and tense, ready to strike at the next attack. His hand is in a tight fist, locked at his side and close to Kazeshini's hilt.

Renji refrains from sighing at the stressed ball of nerves that has suddenly replaced his boyfriend. He sets Iba down close to where Rukia is stationed, sure that no further harm will come to the Seventh Division lieutenant.

Shuuhei looks behind him when he hears Renji coming. His shoulders relax slightly. "What's wrong?"

Thats a bit of a loaded question. "Nothing right now. Just checking up on you."

What else would he say in this situation? That he wants to forget about people who turn into horrible abominations of nature, go home, pretend like someone else has it under control, and sleep in the same bed again? Or that he misses back when they were so caught up in their own personal issues that it seemed like they were the only people that mattered and they didn't have to worry about anyone else.

That's not really that important, though.

"It was cool, the way you could tell something was off about the refugee, by the way. Wish I'd been able to pick up on it that fast. That probably would have saved us a lot of trouble." Shuuhei admits. "In situations like these I kind of wish-"

The sentence trails off, Shuuhei's mouth suddenly setting into a grim line.

Renji waits for a minute, silently urging him to continue. Eventually, he resorts to asking. "Kind of wish what?"

But Shuuhei is no longer engaged in the conversation. His eyes narrow on something behind Renji, brows knit together seriously. "Do you see that over there or am I just going crazy?"

Renji turns on his heel, looking in the direction Shuuhei was staring. "Why? What did you see?"

"Something moved over there. I know it did! Hold on, I'm going to check it out." Shuuhei stalks towards whatever it was that has caught his eye.

Renji hisses, "What? You pick now of all times to want to go investigating by yourself? Don't you dare-"

With one backwards glance to see that Rukia, Ikkaku, and Iba are all where he left them, Renji stomps after Shuuhei. Making a sharp turn around the corner of a mostly demolished building, he sees Shuuhei shuffling around in front of what looks like a nearly collapsed little house, not especially remarkable in any way.

The roof has caved in by the front where the door is, but the other three walls seem to have held up just fine, giving the building a lopsided look as if it was bowing at the street. The roof is slightly caved in, sinking in towards the center despite its resilient attempt to stay in one piece. There are no windows and with the door collapsed, the only thing breaking the exterior of the house is one large hole in the side, carefully covered by a white sheet.

It almost appears too innocuous to be suspicious, but Renji can't deny that the way that the sheet is placed so very plainly over the broken section makes him feel a bit leery. After all, there's no one here but them to purposely place it there.

Shuuhei seems to feel the same, because he tentatively begins reaching for the sheet, cautiously as if expecting whatever may be inside to leap out at them.

"If something jumps out from under there and kills us, I'm going to seriously murder you." Renji mutters before Shuuhei peels back the sheet by its tattered corner.

Nothing appears. Nothing looks back at them with empty eyes and almost-human hisses. Renji and Shuuhei blink at the space where they half-expected these things to be and see only the floor.

"Well that's something. Or a lack there of." Renji says. "A diversion? Like, it would know if it put up something vaguely suspicious, we'd get distracted and lose the trail."

Shuuhei looks a little disappointed by the lack of a lead to go on. "Maybe. That seems like a really optimistic plan though."

"We're getting too predictable." Renji complains, glaring at the tattered white sheet.

"It could have left a clue here, though. Some reason why it was trying to hide this place." Shuuhei suggests. He puts one foot through the hole, slipping into the shack.

Renji follows, noting with some irritation how low the roof is when he stands back up and knocks his head against it. Upon impact, dust showers down from the ceiling, dappling his head and shoulders with sprinkles of grey. Clearly the fight with the creature had not made Renji filthy enough for one day.

The first thing Renji notes about the hut is that it's uncomfortably small. Perhaps before it was demolished, it had been a bit bigger. Renji could imagine that with a bit of handiwork here or there a small, poverty-stricken family would see it as the perfect place to settle down. But in the state it is right now, the interior doesn't leave much elbow room.

Or head room, Renji adds to his own notes, sneezing on the clouds of dust he had unintentionally disturbed.

"This could a potential nest." Shuuhei observes, looking around the inside of the shack. "Assuming the creature has to rest sometime, it would probably look for something small and out of the way for shelter."

"That doesn't tell us anything about where it is now." Renji points out, moving closer to the center of the shack. The walls are holding up alright for now, but they don't look solid enough for Renji to trust them completely.

As he steps, something under Renji's foot breaks with a dry crunch. When he looks down, he finds a shallow crater where his foot was, cracks spreading outwards across the floor. The floor groans underneath him as the paneling under him begins to concave and collapse. Shuuhei's hands grab onto the back of Renji's shihakusho and pulls him away just before the floor comes apart altogether.

Where Renji was standing a moment before, now a gaping hole had opened up, emitting nothing visible but darkness. An angry fluttering begins to emanate from the hole, multiplying into a chorus of noise that sound nearly like static as the rest of the floor began to shake and come apart.

Renji and Shuuhei have little choice but to rush back out the building the way they came or else fall into the pit spreading below, where they began to see something stirring and rising like water beginning to boil over.

Battle-instincts have Shuuhei and Renji recoiling with their swords drawn by the time something bursts forth from the cave's mouth.

Something huge and misshapen charges forth, hitting Renji like a battering ram and knocking him flat onto his back, the breath knocked out of him for the second time that day. Quick as he can, Renji pushes himself back up and prepares for the new creature that just attacked him to try and finish the job.

It proves to be entirely unneeded though, because Renji turns to find the abomination continuing to run away. It moves so quickly in such a frenzy that Renji can't even make out discernible details about the beast, just something low and long that crawls across the ground like a lizard before ducking into an alley. Another indescribable mass of blurred limbs follows the first, and then another, retreating into a different direction, a herd of others close on its heels.

Around him, more tangles of limbs and bodies claw their way out of the cave and flutter past like bats disturbed from sleep, some scraping him with their claws as they skitter, but most ignore him in favor of dispersing.

From what Renji can see through the stampede of monsters, Shuuhei tries to hold his own against the wave of bodies. He swings Kazeshini at the crowd of creatures, drawing a sizeable splatter of black blood before getting knocked aside. Shuuhei's hits the ground head-first and he goes very still.

Renji struggles to pick himself up as the hoard of deformed monsters begins to wane, crawling and bolting into the ruins faster than Renji's eyes can follow them until they've all disappeared across the district. His priority is not them, however, but Shuuhei, and the dribbles of crimson dribbling his temple.

"Hey, Shuuhei!" Renji kneels beside the other man, shaking his shoulder. He curses under his breath. "Shit. C'mon, Shuu, don't do this to me!"

Shuuhei's eyes open, and with Renji's help he pulls himself up into a sitting position. "I was not expecting that to happen. That was stupid of me."

"It's fine. We were taken by surprise." Renji assures him and, with no gauze on hand, unwraps one of his armbands to press to Shuuhei's wound.

He does not mention that he glances over Shuuhei's head, a dozen or so yards away, and Renji sees a creature on multiple spidery legs shambling away. It turns back towards them, glaring at Renji with its single cyclopean eye before scuttling back into the demolished Rukongai to seek its own shelter. With all the other creatures they know are shuffling around out here now, it doesn't seem as important.

He just dutifully helps Shuuhei to his feet, taking care to keep pressure on Shuuhei's wound. He feels the distant, gradually growing spiritual energy of the relief team approaching. Good. He looks forward to getting back to Seireitei, and washing the evidence from today's mission off his body. He can still taste the creature's blood, metallic and gross in his mouth. It dries on his chin, his lips, between his teeth.