A/N: Who's been following the bleach manga for the last while? All of you I'm sure. I must admit I'm disappointed, I'm just waiting for them to finish off Aizen so that the story can either end or there can be a new arc and then there can be some actual story happening instead of endless mindless fights. Maybe I should just stop reading for a few months. But I'm in the habit.

Btw, aasukanden means earth (electric) shock

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The Heir Apparent
Chapter 31: Battle Royale 1, Confronted

Hitsugaya's eyes were cold as he cut through another enemy. Even in its dormant state Hyorinmaru was still the most powerful ice-type zanpakutou, and it froze his dying opponent. The body fell to the floor as if in slow motion and shattered, by which time Hitsugaya had already killed twice more.

He could scarcely believe what was happening, Soul Society under attack. He knew he should be shocked and horrified, and to an extend he was. But deep inside, he was relieved. This was an enemy he could meet blade to blade, and he was certain that whoever these people were they had something to do with Hinamori's disappearance. Now all he had to do was find their leader and question him.

He clashed blades with someone marginally more powerful, a lithe woman with a halberd whose level would be comparable to a third seat Shinigami. Three moves later she fell in a shower of blood, which froze in midair.

'Hmph, you killed Tsubara,' said a deep voice, 'She was one of the strongest members of the Circle. I trained her myself.'

Hitsugaya turned to look at the speaker. It was a man about average height rounded with thickset muscles. His silvery scale armour looked somewhat reptilian. He radiated enough purpose and power that Hitsugaya was certain that he was one of the top dogs among the enemy.

'I am Hitsugaya Toshiro, Captain of the tenth division,' he said, getting into fighting stance, 'And you will tell me what you have done with Hinamori Momo.'

'I am Lord Ajmer Khaan of the Rache, member of the Prima Kreis. And I will tell you nothing.'

'Prime Circle,' Hitsugaya translated, 'So I presume that means you're one of the leaders. And Rache, that could mean Revenge. Does that mean you're here to avenge what we did to your Quincy brethren two centuries ago? You've already told me plenty.'

Khaan smiled, his lips stretching back far more than what should be humanly possible. 'I see why they call you a genius. But I'm tired of talking, its time for blood.'

He flipped back his hood with one hand, exposing his green irises that looked out of place on his dark skin; and his long platted locks, tied up in a ponytail at the back. Then he drew his sword with one hand and ignited a Quincy crossbow in the other at the same time.

'So, is that a zanpakutou you're using, and a bow,' said Hitsugaya. 'You're like the Arrancar. Except they were hollow/shinigami hybrids, you're quincy/shinigami freaks.'

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Khaan's eyes narrowed, and he raised his crossbow. 'You'll pay for that insult, child,' he said, and fired.

Kukaku struck a black-bearded attacker squarely in the chest with her staff, blasting him back with a surge of power. He hit a wall solidly and slid down, leaving a trail of blood and broken plaster. Five more of his fellows were trying to encircle her, so she stabbed the base of her staff into the ground.

'First weave, aasukanden,'

The charge shot straight into the earth, blasting it all away in a five meter radius except for the piece that she stood on. Her enemies went with it. She took them out easily, one by one, as they tried in vain to recover. A thin whistle alerted her as she finished off the last one, and she ducked just in time to prevent an energy shot from taking off her head. Damn these Quincy-thingy people, you couldn't feel them or their attacks coming, not even slightly. A series of acrobatics prevented the follow-up shots from hitting her, and as she landed with heron-like grace she deflected the last away with her staff.

She regarded her attacker, who stood holding a hollow pipe pointed at her, smiling serenely. But that smile never touched her deep blue eyes, which were as cold as ice. She was beautiful, there was no other way to describe it. But her beauty wasn't one of human warmth, it was what might belong to a marble statue. Untouchable, unreachable, cold.

'I am Shiba Kukaku, captain of the third division,' said Kukaku, rising warily.

'Of course you are,' said the woman softly.

'Who the hell are you?'

'The woman who is about to kill you.'

Like she hadn't heard that one before. 'Just tell me your fucking name, bitch,' she snapped.

'Language,' said the woman, stroking back a loose lock of blue-green hair, 'but as you wish. I am Lady Serena Rommel.'

Kukaku frowned, 'What, no rank or nothing?'

'Does it really matter?' said Serena.

Kukaku grinned, 'No, not particularly. Are we gonna do this or what?'

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From floating somewhere faraway, Kenpachi felt himself jerked back to reality. He could still feel the fiery burning in his stomach and the crushing weakness in his muscles, but it was easing. Opening his eyes he saw a familiar glow, the healing power of that human girl Orihime. With a grunt he pushing himself onto his back, to make breathing easier. Then a very familiar face popped in front of his.

'What happened Ken-chan?' said Yachiru, 'You commit seppaku?'

'Idiot, this wasn't self inflicted,' he said.

Looking a bit further away he could see Unohana and Isane carrying away Shinji and Kensei, and judging by the blood pouring out of their mouths they were suffering from the same thing as him.

'Sneaky bastards,' he said softly, 'It must have been at the party.' That made the most sense, that was when they'd brought in outside chefs, and he doubted that something this powerful could linger in their systems for more than a few hours before showing itself.

'What was that, Ken-chan?'

'Please try not to speak for the moment,' said Orihime, who was clearly struggling with the healing. She also appeared to be maintaining a defensive barrier over them.

Wait, that would mean that Byakuya got a full dose too, and even worse, the most powerful Shinigami in Gotei thirteen… Then Orihime's shield burst, she shrieked and fell, and the healing winked out. The pain returned anew, but he could deal with pain. The weakness was more worrying.

A man was striding towards them with intent and purpose, a black hooded cloak over his white clothes. With his long greasy black hair and hunched over bearing, he looked like a vulture; there to gorge itself on the sick, dying and dead.

Kenpachi had a strong feeling that this was the man responsible for the poisoning, he looked the part too. He felt his anger rise as he pushed himself to his feet and raised his sword. There was another emotion there too, one that he hadn't felt for a very long time. He realised it was fear. He wasn't afraid of being injured or killed, but he was terrified of being powerless, of being totally dominated. It had only ever happened to him once before, it was a nightmare he would never forget. Every time he looked in the mirror his face would remind him.

'Ken-chan,' said Yachiru, 'You gonna play now?'

'Yeah,' he said, 'Go find the old man and tell him that he's got what I got, and Byakuya too if you can.'

'Sure thing,' she said happily, and raced off.

'Girl, can you stand,' he said to Orihime without taking his eyes off his opponent.

'Uuuh, no,' she groaned, 'Oh Kami, it hurts.'

He took a quick glance. Her leg was ruined, a large section of her calf burned off. Still, she shouldn't be making so much noise about it; there was nothing wrong with the rest of her.

'See if you can fix it good, then get outta here,' he said, and turned his full attention back to the enemy. 'I am Zaraki Kenpachi,' He raised his sword to hip height, parallel to the ground.

For once he wasn't fighting to have fun, he was fighting win; and win quickly. He hadn't been healed fully, and the poison was still in his system. He was certain that the more he expended himself the more powerfully it would return.

'I know,' said the vulture man, 'I am Lord Alexander Marx. I do admire a man who's prepared to get down to business rather than talk.'

Kenpachi gritted his teeth, tasting fresh blood welling from the back of his throat, and charged.

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Ishida wove between fighters as he singled out enemies and shot them through the elbow and knee joints. The problem was that, as the only Quincy on the Shinigami's side, his allies were as likely as not to try and lob off his head when they saw him. Fortunately the stronger ones knew who he was, and he could evade the weaker. It did make things harder for him though.

'Ishida, behind you,' Chad bellowed.

He dived out of the way without looking. A saturated bolt of Quincy energy struck where he had been a millisecond before, blasting a chunk out of the ground. He twisted and fired back, his attacker shot down his attack with one of his own. He fired three more charged blots in short order, all were negated. Chad added a blast of his own, which finally forced the attacker to move.

'That was hollow energy,' said the man, appearing on the top of the only building in the immediate vicinity that hadn't been pulled down. 'What kind of freak are you?'

'I am Sado Yastora,' said Chad, raising his shield arm in defensive position.

The Shinigami and their assailants in the area, sensing that a battle of superpowers was about to begin, abandoned their duels and fled the scene. Ishida narrowed his eyes as he stared his attacker. By his skin and features he must have be of Japanese ancestry. All in all unremarkable, except for the scar that ran diagonally between the middle of his nose and cheek, and pulled mouth up in such a way that he had a perpetual half smirk.

'What are you,' he said.

'That's hardly a greeting between kinsmen,' said the man, turning to him. 'I am Lord Ishida Takumo, cousin of your direct ancestor.'

'Impossible,' said Ishida, turning white.

'How?'

'What do you mean?'

'How is that so impossible? You do know that our clan was by far the most prominent in Japan, and the second most in the entire order. And out of those hundreds of members, only three currently live.'

So he knew about his father. That was worrying. But whether or not he was his ancestor, he was still an enemy who threatened the peace they had fought and bled to achieve. He had to stop him.

Chad fired another blast, disintegrating the building Takumo had been on. Predictably he got clear easily. He flipped over Chad's head, firing a succession of shots, which the tall teen caught on his shield arm. As he landed he had to evade again as Ishida jumped high and barraged him with shots, which he blocked again by shooting them down.

Ishida landed by Chad. 'We'll have to work together,' he said, 'You distract him, and I'll try and trap him.'

Chad nodded once, and stormed forward.

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Captain-Commander Yamamoto stood silently, surveying the battle. In all honesty it hardly be called a battle, there were no lines and precious little organisation. In all sectors the Shinigami and their attackers were involved in a giant brawl, while civilians scrambled this way and that trying desperately to stay alive. Bodies lay scattered on the roadside, those killed by Quincy arrows were at different stages of erosion.

Yamamoto knew well the consequences of losing large numbers souls, so he had tasked all the fourth division members he'd found with removing their heads with their zanpakutou. That, they had discovered centuries before, was the only way to stop the soul destruction; but it wouldn't undo the damage already done. But better to have a hundred damaged souls than a hundred lost forever. Kurosaki Ichigo was a perfect example of how a damaged soul could be returned.

The Shinigami had taken heavy losses in the first few minutes of the fighting, but now that the element of surprise was gone they were systematically cutting down their less numerous opponents. There was no sign of the other captains, but the lieutenants were making a telling difference. Matsumoto was leading a small contingent of fifth and tenth division seated officers, putting out hotspots. Ganju was doing a similar thing with his second division. Kira and Hisagi were taking down stronger enemies together, as were Iba and Sasakibi; though without as much success.

''Scuse me, baldy-beard,' said a small voice.

He looked down, but really he needn't have to to know who was addressing him. Only one person ever called him that. 'What is it?' he said to Yachiru.

'I gotta message.'

He snorted, it had better be important. 'Well, spill it.'

'Ken-chan says you got what he got.'

He stared at her sharply, his eyes widening. Of course, all of the ones who had gone down had been guests at his party. Damn those assassin chefs! That also meant that there were two more in danger.

'Go and tell Captains Kuchiki and Unohana what you just told me.'

'Told Byakushi already.'

'Then go tell Captain Unohana, hurry!'

'Kay,' she said, turning towards the thickest fighting. 'Isn't everyone having so much fun!'

Nothing could have been further from the truth, but before he could rebuke her she raced off laughing.

'She's right. I don't know about you, but I'm having a lot of fun,' said a voice behind him.

Yamamoto twisted sharply, stunned that he hadn't felt his presence, readying a few nasty kido combinations to use at a moments notice. But the man was just standing there, making no threatening move, so he held back and simply looked at him. A literal giant, he looked like a hero out of the pages of western antiquity; with bronze skin, a strong square chin, and rich deep blond hair. His body was broad and toned, he wore the white uniform covered with a shimmering golden cloak. Above its hood the handle of a great-sword stuck out. Everything about this man screamed royalty, his pale blue eyes though were those of a hunter.

'I've been waiting for this day for centuries,' he continued, 'And do you know what? It's everything I imagined it to be, and more. Isn't it grand to see your visions become reality!'

'Who are you,' said Yamamoto, keeping his guard up. This man was either a popinjay or the leader, and he was more inclined to think the latter.

'You don't remember me?' the man seemed mildly surprised, 'Well, I suppose it has been a while. My name is Franz Bismark.'

'Bismark,' said Yamamoto, 'That's a Quincy name.'

'Was,' Bismark corrected coolly, 'We are not the Quincy. We are the Rache. And we have come to take vengeance for the annihilation of our dear brothers and sisters. And for more… personal insults.' He pulled down the edge of where his cloak wrapped around his neck, exposing a scar that covered half its width.

Yamamoto growled. 'Bah, you fool. We had to destroy you then, we were facing complete oblivion of all living and dead things. I'm not going to discuss this with you, what you've done today has sealed your fate.' The wood of his walking stick evaporated, revealing his zanpakutou. He drew it slowly. 'Incinerate all creation, Ryujin Jakka. I'm going to give you a lesson you will never forget, or remember.'

Even as he released his Shikai, he could feel that something was wrong with him. His insides started to burn. The poison must be activated by use of Reitsu, he realised, which explained why Kenpachi had gone down first. The fool couldn't control his expenditure properly. So the more power he used, the quicker he would be ripped inside out.

'I see by the look on your face that you've realised it,' said Bismark, 'To keep this interesting, I'll limit myself to using my Shinigami powers only.'

He drew his great-sword from behind his head and slashed the air, making a brief whistling sound. Yamamoto could not help but let his surprise show. The obelisk shape of the blade, the runes running down the side, the sunstone pommel; he knew that sword. He started to shake with fury, his spiritual pressure soaring unchecked, uncaring that his insides were lacerating.

'YOU!,' he roared, old pain rising up and threatening to overwhelm him, 'MY SON!'

The fiery explosion went over fifty meters high.

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