Hanlon's Razor
Come what may, all misfortune is to be conquered by endurance.
Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity. Those were the words that repeated within Jugram's head.
He still could not understand how, over the course of a few hours, everything had gone awry. He had been summoned by a Soldat to the womb, the information hub, by the order of His Majesty. The first invasion of the Soul Society had gone off without concern, but the moment he walked into the room he wasn't so sure. In the aftermath of their arrival and departure, their systems had alerted them to a slight disturbance of Reishi in their wake. They informed him that they had no idea what it was, but they had managed to contain a sample in the center of the room. It was believed to have originated by their transition between the Soul Society and Silbern, forcing gaps within space itself to ripple and tear. That alone was no poise for concern, however, Jugram quickly came to learn that the tears made it much easier to travel between realms; more specifically a bridge between the world of the living and the Soul Society.
As his green eyes landed on the black and purple pulsing tear, it reminded him of an incident a thousand years earlier.
The leader of the Information division back then had discovered something akin to this before. Richter Hubert was a cunning and dangerous man, which is why His Majesty had placed him as his second in command. Truthfully, Jugram felt like a babysitter back then, but the man was equally proficient in his work so it was rare that he had to intervene. In one instance that had him questioning the sanity of that sadistic man, was when he brought forth a hellish contraption he called: Licht Kammer designed to rip the Reishi out of traitorous Quincy and Soldats.
"Should those that hinder His Majesty's plans not be discarded? Should they not be allowed to serve His Majesty one last time, if given the chance?"
Jugram felt compelled to bring this to the attention of His Majesty, but he knew his response would be for him to deal with it. What Hubert hadn't expected, however, is that the high rate he was extracting the Reishi would cause a disturbance and small explosion. He had not been in the room at the time, but the alarm system went off, prompting him to check in on the womb. When he opened the door he had not expected to find a circular area missing from the center of the room, a few Soldats had disappeared and Hubert himself was unconscious against a panel. He quickly ordered the injured to be hurried to the medical bay and to take Hubert to his room. He would keep this from His Majesty as the current planning was already proving stress inducing. Jugram shifted his cap and sighed, it was a mess.
But an even bigger mess would follow.
"I saw it."
"Saw what?"
Hubert gazed at the ceiling, dazed and wide eyed. His eyes showed clear indication of a concussion and he took his words as ramblings caused by the injury. Jugram felt the heat of anger begin to build as he sat looking at the rambling fool. He had never seen Hubert so out of wits, eyes like a crazed fool and his lips sputtering. It was so strange that Jugram felt no sense of pleasure at watching the thorn in his side slowly unravel; it unnerved him.
"Another world. Vibrant, abundant with so much energy I…I felt like a child."
"You hit your head after creating a vacuum, thus vacating five spaces in our ranks."
Jugram would never forget the wide eyed, open mouthed expression Hubert gave him.
"That world was nothing but spirits."
Before Jugram could continue his questioning, Hubert closed his eyes. The following morning the man acted like his usual self, if anything he was more annoying then he was before. Jugram would never ask him about what he saw, because he was certain it was a hallucination due to the outburst and collapse of energy. Not that he would have another chance to ask the man as the following month he would parish. As would the Lichtreich.
However, after the efforts of concealing themselves and founding the Wandenreich, Jugram came across a few of Huberts tomes. The man was never much of an artist, nor did Jugram believe he showed an interest in the art, but he had crudely drawn across his pages. Of course most of the pages that held his writing spoke mainly on his findings and the meetings His Majesty had with a sacred monk, none of that called his attention until he flipped to the last page. His brow lifted slightly as the page contained the charcoal sketch of a tree, wicked and bent, its branches stretching to the heavens with its thick trunk hollow. As his green eyes narrowed to look closer at the page, he found an object drawn in the hollow crevasse of the tree, with branches working as bars from a prison cell. The man had truly lost his mind.
But when he opened the last tome he found the last page was an extension to the previous one he had just seen. Ripping the pages out, crudely, he lined them up and looked at the landscape image. On the left sat the image of the tree and on the right was the sketches of a man whose back was that could be seen, he stood in a triumphant position and a small object that resembled a Tōrō, resting on his left shoulder. The ground of the drawing was in spirals as the charcoal was pressed heavily into the paper, the skies of the portrait resembled a swirling cloud before a storm. The drawings were too detailed for him to ignore, and perhaps a piece of him believed Hubert's claims of this "other world."
But he had more pressing matters and placed the drawings and tomes away, forgetting about them in the span of a millennium.
Now he was in the middle of the same event occurring again. The room was filled with rapid fingers upon keys and screens scanning the tear and presenting numbers of dilation and rapid expansion, all transpiring in a few seconds. As he continued to eye the rippling tear, he walked around the comms. It didn't matter in which direction he viewed it, as it looked the exact same; as if it were turning with him as he moved. He stopped when he came to stand where he had before, with the strange looks of the soldats. Some exchanged looks and others laughed quietly, but quickly stifled their laughter so as to not anger the Grandmaster. His anger was not what was infamous. No, far from it. What was infamous, was his "long and overbearing lectures" he gave out instead. His voice never rose nor did his expression change from the stillwater it was, but he had a way with words–and an infinite amount of them–to bore anyone with.
Bambietta, who just walked in, would be a perfect example of who he-
Jugram's head snapped over his shoulder, toward the door.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
He eyed her carefully, her hands were tucked into the pockets of her skirt, and she had a sour look on her face. This wasn't out of the ordinary for her as most of the time Jugram see's her, she's always in a foul and destructive mood. It could not be ruled out that the cause of her morose attitude could be attributed to her fellow women. They were small in number, but the combination of their irritability–in Jugram's opinion–and aloofness would send anyone down a spiral. He felt no sympathy for her, being their superior she should know how to control them.
But in turn what would that say about him?
By the logic he always implemented, he would be responsible for Bamibetta in every sense. Being the GrandMaster of the Sternritter, and up until a few moments ago, the believed successor to the Quincy throne, He should have instilled some sort of respect by now. However, he also didn't care for their internal affairs. Especially when she waltzed in reeking of sweat. A stench far different from exercise, he crinkled his nose discreetly.
"Do you plan on answering me," He turned to look at her. "Or do you just plan on standing there with that foul look upon your face?"
That seemed to get a desired reaction out of her as she stood firmly with a set brow.
"You cannot tell me you're not pissed." She crossed her arms and looked at him. Certainly expecting him to have some sort of heart to heart with her.
He, instead, turned back around to look at the monitors in the room. "What's done is done. His Majesty's word is final."
She let out a low frustrated sound that resembled a growl, her body shot forward and stopped when she was a few feet in front of him. Her brows were knit together and her lips were curled, he could see the rage burning in her eyes. Surprisingly, this was a face of hers he hadn't seen. The annoyed, and bothered one was her signature attire she would never be dressed without. Although he said he did not care, something within twitched when he saw the seething flames in her brown eyes. In some truths, hidden under his firewall, there was a bitter taste in his mouth at being demoted. Perhaps it was because his plans would be thrashed, or settled before he himself could. A brewing hatred that has spanned for far more than a thousand years, that began in a forest, far, far away.
"I don't know about you, Jugo, but everyone else doesn't like the idea of some half wit dipshit, that came from nowhere, leading us!" She placed a gloved fist against her chest.
"I sure as hell ain't answering to that pencil pusher! I don't even listen to you half the time!"
The moment the last word left her mouth he turned towards her. She attempted to look up at him, but the gaze under his green eyes made it uneasy. Jugram was never one to react to sudden bursts of anger, Bambieta knew that. However, that still did not stop her heart from beating like a horse.
"Bambietta, do you know what you are?" he asked, evenly. "You are among one of the few chosen by His Majesty to partake in this war, it is not your decision but a privilege."
"By default that makes you a soldat. The only thing separating you from them," he nodded towards the group gathered around the monitors. "Is the fact you were chosen by His Majesty to carry out his will." She averted her eyes in a scowl. Overbearing lectures.
"Neither you, nor I, have any room to complain about His Majesty's decisions."
The embarrassment she felt was immeasurable. To be scolded before a few lowly soldats like these was enough to cause social suicide. Even if she had just sliced one of them in half in her room, their judgmental eyes would soon be upon her in the halls.
"Yea, yea, I got it. Jeez." She rubbed her head and fixed her cap on her head. "Strange though. I expected you to at least complain about it. I mean, you've been the de facto leader for the longest time."
"That does not change the fact." He responded quickly.
Seeing as she wouldn't get anything out of him, she shrugged and turned to leave. Out of all the other Sternritters, she was most likely the closest to him. Besides that cockscomb having idiot, Bazz-b, but that was an unspoken history even she didn't want to get into. Though she wasn't one to make friends, she tried to get closer to Jugram.
For the sole purpose of getting dirt on the bastard.
Seriously, who the hell drinks coffee from a tea cup? Hell, the guy is practically flawless and that means there's bound to be some weird shit-
"Bambietta, wait."
She almost tripped over her own cloak at the suddenness of his command. I need to get the damn thing tailored. She pulled her cloak up from the sole of her boot and turned to him, hand on her hip and a lifted brow.
"We will need to have a discussion about the actions you committed before you came here." He said, eyes still locked on that thing before him. She tilted her head in confusion before her eyes widened.
The bastard knew! Oh, God, oh, God, he heard; or maybe someone told him or maybe- damn it! I knew I shouldn't have brought that stupid soldat into my room! I should've killed the girls the moment they walked in on my mess. Now I'm gonna have to hear all about this code of conduct that just doesn't. fucking. exist!
She quickly approached him again, her hands out almost pleadingly, "L-Listen i don't know who told you- but i swear i didn't-!" Her world suddenly went sideways, Jugram was somehow at a ninety-degree angle and quickly fading from her line of sight. As she blinked she saw a rapid image of his confused green eyes looking at her as she rocketed forward, she had tripped on her cloak. Her front smashed into the back of a seated soldat who lurched forward, taking a lever with him as his head bounced off the screen. She didn't have enough time to get flustered by the time the white room filled with the red warning lights. The screens contained a graph of the space tear at the center of the room and it began fluctuating at irregular intervals.
"What the hell happened!?"
"The Reishi levels are spiking! You're feeding it too much!"
"The lever's broken!"
"Get the hell out of here!"
The room was filled with mass panic, she was pushed and shoved by the evacuating soldats. She would have been trampled, or worse, retaliated by exploding the entire room, had she not fallen back against something. Or someone. She looked up to see the disturbed face of Jugram, who, lack of better terms, was angry. Although his anger was categorized as his green eyes set ablaze, or perhaps it was just due to the collapsing black hole in the center of the room? Either or, Bambietta was frightened of both.
"That was a stupid thing you did." He reprimanded, as if the entire room wasn't being devoured by the Reishi. It also happened to be the last thing she heard as they were engulfed by the warm blue light.
•
•
•
"As of two hours ago, at fourteen-hundred hours, the Grandmaster and fellow Sternritter have been lost." That was what the soldat before had said. His head bowed, but if it was out of respect or fear, he couldn't care less. What he did care about, was whether or not he could branch into the mind of Haschwalth and in turn, see the new world.
He had been aware of the incident that had happened a millennium ago, but he didn't think much about it. Not that he had much time after. But it happened a few hours after he had awoken, he saw first hand the rip in space and a vibrant land he hadn't seen. Nothing in the world of the living or the Soul Society held a candle to it. He could feel the energy running wild in that land, uncontrolled and with no master–as if it were begging to be conquered. He could only imagine how far he could stretch his abilities with that much energy. However, there was a problem.
He could not sense Haschwalth anywhere.
He should have landed in that land, and yet, he could not sense an ounce of his presence. Had he miscalculated? Was Haschwalth lost in a space he wasn't aware of, or was he transported to an area lacking the sufficient amount of Reishi for him to reach him? Either way, this was a predicament he had prepared for.
He had seen it after all.
"If that is all," His voice echoed in the throne room. "Leave."
The soldat all but ran from the room.
Silently, he leaned back on his throne before shutting his eyes. If he could not connect with Haschwalth, he would have to wait. Another action he desperately hated. But in the meantime, he would give thanks to all those who died before and gave their will for him to survive. Especially the one who showed him that world.
Richter Hubert.
