A/N: SPOILERS! Who else has been following the manga? It's finally coming together, the Hougyoku is the Philosophers Stone of Bleach! Souls have to be offered to it, but it doesn't kill them. Or do any perceivable wrong to them. Is it just me, or is that really lame. What exactly did Gin want returned to Matsumoto, did she really have the potential to become captain-class rather than lieutenant, cos that's all I can come up with; I mean she seems perfectly fine. On the plus side this does finally explain what Grimmjow was talking about way back when he told Ichigo that 'something' had been done to Orihime. And Ichigo seems to have finally gotten his fighting spirit back, and perhaps some killing intent with it. Btw, WTF Aizen is a friggin butterfly! Also he was lying earlier about the Hougyoku making wishes come true, his new power is very obviously hollow based.

The authors note for this story is attached at the bottom. Otherwise, please enjoy.

x

The Heir Apparent
Chapter -147: Rache means Revenge

Franz Bismark stood on the edge of a cliff, staring into the blackness. All below was covered in inky mist, though a few chalk white peaks stuck through it. He was on a huge plateau that seemed to be made of pure salt, both crystal rocks and fine grains, surrounded on all sides by the peaks and mist. He wondered what was below, but wasn't tempted to jump off and find out.

'So, this is your doing,' said a voice.

It was the blend of a man and woman speaking perfectly in unison. No mortal could possibly talk like that. Franz turned to the owner, who was a bit above the plateau, bobbing up and down with each beat of its wings. The shape of its breastplate marked it as male, the wings as some form of angel. An angel of war, for he wore a plate armour all over his body, the feathers of his wings were also steel. Both bore strange otherworldly patterns and designs. Light seemed to shine from behind him, though there was no apparent source.

'Who are you, where am I?' said Franz. He felt for the cross at his wrist, but it wasn't there. He was defenceless.

'You are in your inner world, you brought me here, though I do not know how,' said the angel, 'You are the one who killed my master.'

'What are you talking about, who are you?'

'My name is -.' It made a noise in place of a name that Franz could not make out.

'Sorry?' he said.

'I see, I thought that since you drew on my power to heal yourself and in so doing forced me into your inner world you would have begun to hear my voice. It would appear not.'

Franz looked around. Inner world, what was that? It didn't seem to be Soul Society, so perhaps he was still alive. What did he mean by "Master"? 'Is this a dream?' he asked.

'In a way. But it is also very real,' said the angel. Clouds started to whirl around them, carrying with them a pungent sharp scent that made Franz immediately dizzy. 'We'll talk again,' the angel promised, as Franz fell to the floor and passed out.

He felt his mind return to his body with a sudden jolt. His eyes snapped open, though he couldn't see immediately, he tried to sit up. Only to find that he was tied down to his bed, he couldn't move a muscle. He tried to speak, but what came out was unintelligible even to him.

'There, he's awake,' said a female voice, and the smelling salt was removed from beneath his nose. He breathed easier in its absence.

'Finally,' said another, male.

His vision swam, the colours and shapes slowly settling. He was in a wooden cottage, his arms strapped to his sides, his head to his pillow and feet to the end of his bed. His neck was bandaged and braced, he couldn't move it.

'How do you feel?' said the female voice again, the face of a pretty teenaged girl appeared in front of his. She was the one he'd seen right before he'd fallen unconscious.

'I…I…,' he wasn't quite sure how to answer her. His head was still groggy, his neck throbbed, but otherwise he didn't seem too badly off. His voice and wits seemed to be returning to him. 'I'm alive,' he said, wonder in his voice.

'Of course you're alive, though I'm not quite sure how,' said the girl. 'We bandaged you up, but you kept bleeding. Although your throat and spine weren't cut we didn't have the tools or skills to reattach your jugular. A few minutes ago we were certain you'd died. But then you suddenly gasped, said a strange word, and began breathing again. That was when we tried the smelling salts.'

Franz shook his head. It was too much information all at once for him to take. 'What word?' he said, remember his strange dream.

'Hik-something. I don't remember.'

'It was Hikuru,' said a man, 'It means Light Bringer, and if I'm not mistaken that's the name of the zanpakutou we found on your back.'

Franz raised his head slightly to regard the speaker. He looked tall, but he wasn't really much over average height. His slenderness created the illusion. He seemed to slouch even as he stood, his eyes shifted constantly as though he expected attack at any moment. His black hair looked like it had never been washed, it clashed violently with his pallid complexion. His clothes were ragged, the Quincy cross hanging around his wrist flecked with rust. This was, without a doubt, a man who was used to being on the run.

'Who are you?' he said, although he already suspected.

'Alexander Marx, at your service Lord Bismark,' said the man, taking an extravagant bow.

Franz knew his name, all Quincy did. He was a man who had broken nearly every law they had. He'd murdered a shinigami, and then the Quincy who'd tried to arrest him. After that he'd been an outlaw, always one step ahead of them, using his abilities to perform assassination missions for various nations; provided the price was right. Marx had finally been caught and brought to the Quincy high council last night. They'd been planning to hand him over to the Shinigami as part of the appeasement programme. In the confusion of the attack he must have escaped.

What was he doing presenting himself to him, probably the last council member left alive? More to the point, how did he know the name of the zanpakutou. By telling Franz that he was warning him that he also knew of his crime of killing a Shinigami captain, a factor that had definitely been one of the major contribution causes of their current situation. If the other Quincy became aware they would crucify him, literally, even if he was a council member. He had him, as commoners would say, by the gonads.

'He's a traitor,' said a boy sitting alone in the corner. Franz had a bad moment, but then realised he was speaking about Marx. He recognised him as Ishida Takumo, son of the famous Lord Ishida. The boy was swinging his silver cross idly in his hand, his eyes were red; probably from crying; but he kept them on Marx.

'I think you should release me, I can help you. After all, we're all in this together; wouldn't you agree,' said Marx smoothly.

'No way,' Takumo spat.

Only then did Franz notice that he was handcuffed with spiritual restrainers. So he hadn't escaped. The Ishida boy must have removed him from the basement after the attack and brought him here. An admirable piece of work, especially considering his age. If he'd brought Marx here, that meant that the rest of the council were dead, including his father Lord Ishida. Franz was now the highest ranking Quincy left alive.

He had the power to order Marx's execution on the spot. But couldn't, not if he wanted his secret kept safe. And who knew, maybe he could use him.

'I agree with Brother Marx,' he said, 'But keep him in cuffs for now, we'll let him go when I'm out of bed.' Franz wanted to be make sure that the other man didn't run. His skills would be very much needed by the remaining Quincy. As the last remaining council member he would have to rally and lead them against the Shinigami. It couldn't be long before their full forces attacked

'Why do you have a zanpakutou?' said the girl.

That was a question he was trying to avoid. To buy some time he said, 'I'm sorry, I don't know your name.'

'Serena. Serena Rommel.'

'Well Serena, it's important council business.'

'There's no more council, only you,' she pointed out, 'And you owe me.'

That he did. Considering his current situation he couldn't get away without giving her a proper explanation. So he opened mouth and began to lie. While Marx smirked openly.

x

Captain Ukitake had fled Seireitei, Retsu had discovered, and she wasn't sure where to start looking for him. The most obvious place would be wherever ex-captain Kyoraku was hiding out. But she had no idea where that was. So before she headed into Rukongai she stopped at Daiken's office. Only he wasn't there. The place was a mess, clearly a fight had taken place there; there was blood on the floor, no more than a few hours old. She just beat the shinigami who had come to clean it all up, disposing of the evidence.

What had happened here? It was all very suspicious.

Now wasn't the time to be worrying about that, she needed a lead. Daiken had a house in the first district, he rarely went there, but perhaps he would be there now. It was worth a shot. So thirty minutes later she was standing outside his door, and rapped.

A young boy opened it, 'Who're you?' he said. He had curling brown hair and eyes.

'I'm Captain Unohana Retsu,' she said, touching her haori and bending down, 'And who might you be?' The boy had a such cute face and ears that seemed too big for it, instantly her long suppressed maternal instincts welled up in her chest.

'Sousuke, I'm Shiraken Sousuke,' said the boy.

Retsu blinked, she didn't know that Daiken had any children. She could feel the power in the boy, one day he would a very strong shinigami.

'I suppose you want to see my father,' said Sousuke.

'Please,' she said. She noticed that he hadn't used any honourific's to address her, she should mention the neglect to his father.

He led her inside. It was the first time that Retsu had been inside her patron's home, she noticed immediately that its decoration style was the inspiration for the (now destroyed) office. Besides the pictures and a few scattered statues, the house felt very unlived in. There were more rooms unused than used. Captain Daiken and his wife spent far too much time at the office.

She looked at the boy, who was leading her through the passages. Poor young man, growing up with his parents so occupied with their jobs, his only constant companions likely a succession of servants. Still, she had to wonder about his colouring. With Chizu's dark hair and eyes and Daiken's white hair and teal eyes it was hard to tell what the combination would bring. But she had a feeling it wouldn't be that.

'He's here,' said Sousuke, stopping suddenly by yet another closed door. He rapped twice.

There was a rustle of clothing, then the bedroom door slid open. Daiken was dressed in sleeping robe, a fistful of his spiky hair pulled sideways. Retsu reddened slightly when she saw the bite mark on the side of his neck. He closed the door behind him.

'Uh, sir, I thought you were sorting out the whole Shiba incident with chamber 46,' she said.

'They're busy deliberating, they'll announce the verdict in another two hours. I'd done all I could, so I came home for a bit. Chizu is a bit worried by what's going on. Thank you, Sousuke, you can go,' he said. His son turned and walked off. 'I adopted him twenty years ago, and I've been training him in my spare time. He's proving quite the apt pupil,' he added fondly.

So that explained the boy's colouring. No doubt Daiken was aiming to make him a captain too, though normally he snapped up his recruits in the academy; those who showed unusual ability. Unohana had been one of those, though not one of the most prominent ones. It had only been later, in the eleventh division, that she'd come into her own. Largely because, as the only woman in it, she had to be tougher than the guys in order to survive.

'Does she have reason to be worried?' she said, thinking about what Daiken had said about his wife, who was undoubtedly in the bedroom.

Daiken scratched the bite mark idly, and ran a hand through his hair. 'Probably not. Kenpachi and Izumi should be able to defeat Shunsui on his own. But if that pansy Jushiro finds him before they do, anything could happen. I might have to fight him myself, I doubt anyone else besides Yamamoto could defeat him in single combat. It won't be a fair fight if that happens, he'll be tired and probably injured. A pity, he deserves better, it won't be an honourable victory in any case.'

'Even if he wins, not that that's likely, his life is over,' said Retsu, thinking of the standing verdict against him. For some reason that thought made her sad.

Daiken gave her a hard look, she blinked, had she said something wrong? 'Why are you here?' he said, 'I sent you to retrieve some of your samples and go after Jushiro, why haven't you left yet?'

'Honestly sir, I don't know where to start looking. He's somewhere in Rukongai masking his reitsu, I was wondering if you had any idea where Captain Kyoraku was, since that's where he'll be going.'

'Don't you think I'd have told the other two if I knew,' he retorted, 'But I see your point. Go to Rukongai and follow Kenpachi's reitsu, you should know it well. Don't get involved if the two of them are fighting Shunsui, you'll just get in the way. If Jushiro is there as well, deal with him. By the way, have you found any antidote for it?'

Unohana shook her head, 'As far as I can tell, although it might be possible to remove it, any damage it does will be permanent.'

'A pity, I'll have to leave a note.'

'A what?'

'Never you mind, now go find your old captain.'

x

Jushiro stood in the western fifth district of Rukongai, the wind flapping the loose sleeves and leggings of his shihakusho. He'd discarded his captain's haori and dyed his hair black, both would make him stand out. The shinigami uniform wasn't too uncommon in the area, by hiding his reitsu he looked like a regular unseated officer. He'd thought about using plain clothes, but then it would make his katana look suspicious. Nobody in the better districts carried weapons, besides Shinigami, and he daren't go without it.

This was the place where he and Shunsui had agreed to meet if things went horribly wrong. It was far enough from Seireitei that the Shinigami presence was minimal, but close enough that they wouldn't cause undue notice. The only problem was that they hadn't ever finalised a specific place to meet. In retrospect Jushiro realised that they had never really believed that things could have got so bad. But they had.

Patrolling the streets proved futile, even checking the few landmarks. Shunsui either wasn't here, or he didn't want to be found. Jushiro knew that if he were here he would already know that his friend was looking for him. Even though Jushiro was suppressing his reitsu, he was still releasing enough that at this close range Shunsui would be able to pick it out. It was difficult to explain, but every person with decent strength had an underlying spiritual signature that never changed, almost like a unique scent.

Yet he could find no trace of his former captain.

Annoyed now, Jushiro started checking the bars. That seemed the mostly likely place to find the grieving man. He started at the best, working his way down to the worst. It was really amazing how many bars and taverns there were in a single district, didn't people have anything better to do with their afterlife? He searched every face, felt for any lingering presence Shunsui might have left. Nothing.

Finally, tired and frustrated, he walked through the doors of the scummiest and cheapest. It was on the edge of town in a small brick building. There were holes for windows, but no glass, only wooden shutters. The roof was straw, and falling in at places. Honestly this type of bar was more what one would expect in the fiftieth district.

Inside were the expected patrons, fat men and tired looking old women. But in one corner sat a relatively attractive woman in a pink kimono. Naturally many of the drunks had crowded around her, trying to chat her up while buying her drinks. Two were busy squabbling, the others didn't pay any attention to them. One man was already knocked out on the ground, blood dripping from a nasty cut on his head. Nobody else seemed to notice that "she" had a large hairy foot sticking out the bottom of her flowery garment.

'Is she yours?' said the bald barkeeper.

It took Jushiro a moment to realise that he was taking to him. 'Uh, yes,' he said.

'Then could you please be taking her away, she's good for business and all, but women like that; they can spark a brawl. I don't be wanting no damage, and I can't afford no bouncer.'

'I'll get her out,' Jushiro promised, and walked up to the table. The men stopped talking to look at him. He placed a hand on his sword hilt meaningfully, 'Clear off,' he said.

Half a minute later, when the entire crowd had scurried out the bar; leaving it curiously empty; Jushiro sat down on the seat closest to the "woman". 'Dressing as a girl to get free drinks, that's a new low even for you, Shunsui,' he said.

'How did you know?' said Shunsui, though what came out was a woman's voice.

'Your kimono doesn't cover your feet, and neither does your Kido.'

'Oh,' he said, and cleared his throat. What came out after was his normal voice, tinted with alcohol and immeasurable sadness, 'Must be more careful next time.'

They sat for a moment in silence. Jushiro broke it awkwardly, 'Shunsui, about your wife-'

'Don't say it,' he interrupted, sounding instantly sober.

'But-'

'There's nothing you can say or do that will change anything. I know what happened, and what I did. Words cannot describe how deeply I regret. I…I cannot bear to think about it. That's why I came here.'

Jushiro heard the catch in his voice, the barely concealed pain. It broke his heart. 'To drink,' he said.

'To drink,' Shunsui agreed, 'And to forget.'

Jushiro noticed that he had the corner of a piece of paper sticking out of one of his pockets. 'What's that?' he said.

Shunsui followed his gaze. 'Once when I was younger and really sad, Mikio-sensei suggested that I put it all into words on paper. It helped that time, I used it again when he died. This time though-' he shrugged.

'Can I see?'

He looked at him for a moment, then shrugged again and passed him the slip. Jushiro began to read.

Before my sins I watch and wait
Upon a pale and silent gate
The trees whisper
The wind blows
The ducks are lined in perfect rows
I look into the morning sky, and sigh
Wondering at my fate

Through my sins rage I firmly stand
My fury tearing up the land
I am not me
I am Seth
God of darkness, pain and death
I stare into this burning dream, and scream
I care not for this fate

In my sins sight I weep and moan
Until the beasts and birds have flown
My heart still heaves
Like rivers rage
Its trapped in an invisible cage
I gaze into the evening sky, and cry
My fate's my curse, my own

'I couldn't finish it,' said Shunsui when Jushiro looked up.

'That's, that's beautiful,' he said. Hauntingly so. He could feel the beginnings of tears prick at his eyes.

'Well, it didn't help.'

Jushiro rubbed his wet eyes, sighed, and gave the paper back. 'So what now?'

'Now? Now we go out and fight.' He pocketed his poem.

'You mean we're going after Daiken's group?'

'No need, they're already here.'

Just then Jushiro felt two massive spirit forces appear disturbingly close to the bar. He gasped aloud, 'But how?' he said, 'It was nearly impossible for me to find you.'

Shunsui put down his sake cup and placed two fingers on his forehead. The illusion on his face melted like wax into his true features. Those still in the bar stared and cried out in alarm. Then he removed the final one, a trick that made him look smaller than he was. He made it look so easy. Shunsui might not show off his ability much, yet he was frighteningly proficient at all the Shinigami arts. The next thing he did was a bit disturbing, he picked up one of the durable chamber pots and was noisily ill. The barkeeper had certainly left them for that purpose. Afterwards he marched up to the bar and slammed two gold Ryo on the wood.

'Thank you for putting up with me,' he said to the frightened man, 'Now, as a last order, could I have a large glass of water with a bit of lemon juice, I've got a bad taste in my mouth.'

The barkeeper gaped at the sight of gold in his humble establishment, and hurried to serve. Jushiro joined him.

'You never answered my question,' he said.

Shunsui gave a slight frown, 'I would have thought it was obvious. They didn't find me, they followed you, trusting that you would find me. By you stopping in one place for so long they knew I was here. Kampai,' he said, taking his water and gulping it down. At the same time he pushed his payment to the man. The barkeeper held the coins in both hands, he couldn't stop staring.

Jushiro had been suppressing his reitsu the entire time. It seemed impossible that anybody could have followed him. Of course, if he had been followed and Shunsui had been aware of it, that was probably why he hadn't revealed himself to him immediately. But then why had he allowed himself to be detected at all, come to think of it the mistake he'd made was a bit of an obvious one for somebody of his ability.

'Yara yara, you're onto me,' said Shunsui with a weak smile when he expressed the sentiment. 'I couldn't hide forever, and if I had they'd have probably got bored and attacked you, and two on one is a bit much. I just wanted a bit more time to grieve, sorry.'

Jushiro shrugged, 'I'm sorry I led them to you.'

'Had to happen that we'd face them sooner or later. By the way, you want to do something about your hair?'

He'd forgotten that he'd dyed it. He ran a Kido-infused hand over it, drawing away all the artificial colouring. When he finished his hair was its natural chalky white, and a sphere of liquid black hovered above his hand.

'Not bad,' said his friend.

'Please don't get it on my floors,' said the barkeeper timidly.

'Don't worry, we're just leaving,' said Shunsui, reaching inside his kimono to pull out his two sheathed zanpakutou. They'd been strapped against his back, which must have been uncomfortable, especially considering the length of his katana. Jushiro noticed that he wasn't wearing his haori or shihakusho underneath, he only had his sandals. He gestured towards the door, and led Jushiro out.

The two men stepped into the fresh air. The street was deserted, save for two shinigami captains with different shades of red hair. 'You took your sweet time, Captain Kyoraku' Nagai Kenpachi sneered.

'My apologies, and thank you for not bursting in on us,' said Shunsui.

'Why are you wearing pink, you finally flipped?'

'Perhaps.'

'How did you find us?' said Jushiro, flicking the dye onto the dirt.

'My nickname when I was in the second division was "Bloodhound",' said Izumi, 'I've never failed to catch the person I was tracking. Even you, former Captain.'

Although in the last century the Onmitsukido had taken over the tracking, capture and punishment of military criminals; before then every division had been responsible for their own. Jushiro had also once had to hunt criminals in his division, back when he'd been Shunsui's lieutenant.

'Since we're being reasonable, why don't we do this elsewhere,' said Shunsui. Somewhere where their powers wouldn't kill hundreds of innocents.

'I don't care, just as long as you fight this time,' said Ken.

As one, they flash-stepped away.

The barman, standing at his doorway, fell to his knees. 'They were all captains, all four of them.'

Two months later his refurbished and now upmarket bar would reopen with a sign hanging in front of it, bearing the legend of its new name: The Four Captains.

x

Franz stood just outside the hut, a hand over his bandaged neck. Strangely when they'd checked on it, they'd found it completely healed, leaving only an ugly scar. It was a wound that should have killed him, how had he survived? What was that dream he'd had? Too many unanswered questions.

One thing was for certain, the war proper had begun. Even as he stood he could feel the spiritual density of the entire world increase at a terrifying rate. That could mean only one thing; shinigami were coming into the material plane, thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of them. The ground seemed to shake at their combined weight.

Franz, being a council member, had a good idea of the Quincy's collective strength. They couldn't match this, not even close, and the pressure just kept getting stronger as more and more came. Most of his people wouldn't even know what hit them, there hadn't been enough time for messages to be sent to all parts of the world. This wouldn't be a war, it would be an extermination.

And there was nothing he could do.

'So many,' said Marx, joining him. He was rubbing his uncuffed wrists. 'It's finally happening.'

'Yes, it is,' said Franz softly. What else could be said?

'I know the name of the one who attacked you,' he said.

'Who?'

'Kyoraku Shunsui, captain of the eighth division. I heard my guards shouting about it before they ran out and got killed.'

'Captain Kyoraku. Someday I'll find a way to return the favour.' Some part of him was relieved that he'd been beaten by a captain, not just some nameless Shinigami. Kyoraku had been a pacifist constantly trying to accommodate them, so his apocalyptic attack had without doubt been caused by Franz's.

'So what are we going to do now?' said Marx.

'They attacked our home, so we'll attack their's,' said Franz.

'To do that we'll need to get inside Soul Society,' said Marx, 'With our mortal bodies. Do you know how many complications that will create?'

'We'll find a way. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. As my father would have said, the time has come for Rache.'

Marx nodded, 'Revenge.'

x

A/N: Still a bit slow, I know. But as I'm sure you can see, there were certain things that had to be put into place. There's two more parts before we say farewell to the second, and last, turn back arc.

A few notes on the story: 1. Franz's dream is the beginning of the explanation to how the Quincy can use Shinigami powers. This part also, as the name suggests, chronicles the beginnings of the new order. 2. No points for guessing who Sousuke is, or rather becomes. Btw I couldn't resist putting the whole 'apt pupil' bit in, if you've watched tha e movie of the same name you'll understand. 3. I'm taking a few liberties with Kido, so far nobody has uses it to disguise their appearance (unless you count Mayuri's tracking of Ishida). But since they seem to do just about everything else, including rendering themselves invisible, so I felt it was a logical step. Also, regarding the poem, Seth was the Egyptian god of the underworld.

That's all, next chapter will be quite a bit more exciting, as I'm sure you can predict. Be sure not to miss out. And here's to hoping that Tite does decent job with Ichigo vs. Aizen!