Preface

In this work, I hope to put to writing a poor, self-indulgent pastime of mine. This is a product of my younger mind and cannot be truly separated from it. It is an awkward placing of a character of my own creation into a work in which it is, to an extent, at odds. A character that possesses a background that will be poorly explored for a time. I am aware that this will likely turn away some, and I cannot say that I blame those of you who will decide to turn away. I don't really know why I chose to insert my own creation into the world of Bleach, it wasn't my first experience with manga or anime, it did not leave the greatest lasting impression upon my tastes or memory. Perhaps it was the idea of a central, spiritual self that appealed to my tastes as a writer. The ability of the soul to manifest power unique to each being is a tantalizing concept to play with and leaves an infinite creative space to be filled.

This story is not a going to be a faithful, by canon recounting of the story of Bleach. It will be a somewhat bastardized telling, but one that wishes to play with some of the established systems and ideas laid out by Kubo. It is also a practice run for me as a writer, a chance to flex my muscles in an established setting, with established characters (or at least a skeleton from which to create and modify characters), and an overarching set of events that will happen. I don't know how to tag this, the tags are likely to change, or how often this will be updated. It will likely trickle out bit by bit; I have a general idea of the story's progression, but there exist some large gaps that need to be filled. I humbly submit myself to you, good people of the internet. I hope you enjoy what I have for you.

Chapter One: The Nomad

Eru Dale's day began without a sunrise. Situated in the orbit of a small planetoid, a dozen light-years from the nearest star, there was precious little light beyond what was produced by manufactured devices. He rose at precisely 0530, as set by his spacecraft's chronometer, and proceeded to his physical routine. Artificial gravity had long ago removed the need for spacers to rigorously exercise in order to stave off massive physical degradation, but that did not mean he was exempt from ordinary fitness requirements. He stretched leisurely, contorting his massive body in ways that seemed impossible for a man of his stature and mass. He sighed, hard muscles flexing under his skin as he leveraged his body onto his hands, calmly supporting his long, muscular frame with the ease and grace of a petite gymnast.

Tensing his arms, he launched himself to his feet, landing quietly on the hard metal deck. Satisfied, Eru donned his gear: a laden pack, surveyor's instruments and his survival rifle, and set about running at a brisk jog. Artificially enhanced muscles pumped as his inhumanly long legs carried him with rapidity. Even weighed down as he was, Eru managed to match the pace of an ordinary human sprinter, working himself to a sweat. He ran ten miles through the corridors of his ship before pausing to rest. He logged his time and replaced his equipment, he would be staying aboard his ship today. Breathing deeply and shaking his warm muscles, he retreated to his quarters to wash himself.

The Voidborne hung in extremely low orbit, a mere fifty miles above the nameless rock Eru had been surveying. He sat down in the pilot's chair with a sigh, running his fingers through his damp, coppery hair. His eyes surveyed the mess of sensor data from the night's orbit, not finding anything to focus on. He looked out of the bridge windows at the black, featureless mass of the planetoid for a minute before speaking. "Nothing of note in the scans, Angel?"

In response to his query, a prim, measured voice responded, seemingly emanating from the walls. "No sir. No irregularities, no notable composition, no abnormal physical behavior."

Eru said nothing, he keyed for the previous scans, along with his own on-site data. Nothing indicated abnormality. It was, ironically, seemingly too normal. "Then I think we're done here," Eru told the disembodied voice.

"It seems so," Angel said matter-of-factly "Shall we begin drafting the final report?"

Eru shook his head. A spidery automaton scurried up to the arm of the chair and placed a breakfast tray on the dais. Eru dismissed the construct with a wave of his hand, reaching for his cigar box with the other. He felt his hand twitch as he touched the venerable wood of the box and stopped. He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the machinery buried in his flesh, the lattice of metal that kept him alive. The twitch came again, and Eru's eyes unfocused, no longer seeing what was in front of them.

He stared into space. For a moment, he was in a dozen places, speaking to a hundred people, some of it was clear as the day it had happened, but much was indistinct, robbed of context and meaning. He searched the library of his mind, trying to place each disparate scene. Unconsciously his right hand reached for the large bronze medallion he wore around his neck and gripped it tightly.

"Sir? Are you alright?" Angel's voice cut through the morass of memory. Eru straightened in his seat, then he pulled his left hand from the box and clenched it 'til his knuckles whitened and the shaking stopped.

"Break orbit and prepare for departure." Eru commanded, his voice even. "Program a course to Babylon, inform me when the preparatory maneuvers have been completed." He rose from the chair and strode to the bridge door, posture perfectly erect.

"Sir?" Angel asked again.

"Don't disturb me for anything that does not need my attention, Angel." Eru responded, his eyes far away. "I have something to attend to."

The ring of metal on metal echoed through the cavernous exercise room. Eru pressed his advance against the armoured human from in front of him, face set in a snarl. The sound of the two figures' swords moving was audible from several feet away, both swinging long, razor-sharp greatswords as easily as batons.

Eru's skin glistened, his breathing heavy from exertion as he stepped back from the exchange, adjusting his position to a high guard and steadying his feet. His opposite reset itself before rushing in, blade leaping forward in a lunge.

Eru leaned into his opponent's blow, deflecting the blade aside. Keeping one hand on his sword, he stepped forward into a punch. The metal faceplate deformed under his knuckles as the figure staggered backward. In an instant, Eru swung his sword one handed, slamming it into the thick armour plates protecting his foe's torso.

The blow did not pierce the plate, but it left a deep dent. The armoured figure took a few shaky steps backward, blood now leaking from under its mask. Eru backed off, eyes alight and animated. "Again!" He barked, re-readying his stance.

In a flash the figure dashed forward, attacking with fervor. The exchange lasted three touches, the first stopped the figure's charge dead, the second opened its guard, and the third left Eru's sword buried deep in his opponent's chest, neatly between the plates.

Eru smiled grimly as he tugged his sword free, admiringly clenching his hand, grinning at the lack of unsteadiness. He reached down and yanked the helmet off, revealing the expressionless face of a man bled pale. The man's eyes flicked up, meeting Eru's.

Eru surveyed the damage clinically "Get up, return to the repair bay." He told the man, reaching for a cloth to clean the blood from his weapon. The man did not respond, still staring with dead eyes. He stood, seemingly unbothered by the enormous injury he had suffered. He began to walk, his limbs flaccid and rubbery. The bleeding man made it to the corridor before collapsing in a heap.

Eru sighed as he looked over, perhaps he could have stayed his hand on the final blow. Simulacrum may be able to technically withstand such use, but it would be bothersome if he needed to perform a true rebuilding. Human bodies were only so durable, after all.

"You," he gestured to the humanoid robot standing at attention by the door "return that unit to the repair bay." The robot sprang to life and gently began to carry the limp body out of sight. Eru wiped his sword clean, appraising the black metal for damage. Satisfied, he gipped the hilt and flicked his wrist. In a moment, the sword shrunk and reshaped itself, leaving a long knife in his hand. He sheathed it at his hip, his hand idly brushing by the pistol next to it.

His eyes narrowed as some idea came into his head. He tore the pistol from its holster, spinning on his foot to take aim at the targets behind him. He lined his sights and squeezed the trigger. The familiar sonic crack of a plasmation round reverberated in the enclosed space as a dazzling light shot forth, slamming into the target and detonating with a second bang. The whole motion took a mere second, executed with familiar fluidity. Eru held his position for a few beats before lowering his weapon. The fire in his eyes had died down, replaced with a satisfaction. He toggled the safety of his pistol and replaced it.

"Not yet" he whispered to himself, smiling.

"Sir, I would like to inform you that we are now in position for warp." Angel announced, "I will see to it that an assessment is performed on the simulacrum."

"Thank you, Angel. I'll be on the bridge in ten minutes." Eru responded.

"What's the damage report on the simulacrum?" Eru asked into the air, hair still dripping from a rapid shower.

"There is major tearing of musculature around the torso, one of the lungs must be replaced. Significant bruising on the hands and face." Angel said.

"Will the damage require my personal attention?" Eru queried.

"No, Sir," Angel replied. "The unit will be repaired within nine days. You should refrain from such deliberate damage, as I have told you."

Eru nodded, a twinge of annoyance entering his mind. He brushed it off, shaking his head and strapping himself into the pilot's chair. His hands worked the control surfaces with rapidity and precision. "Final checks, engaging radiation shielding." The hum of machinery deep inside the Voidborne rose to a clamour as the inner core of the ship sealed itself off. Large shielding plates crept up over the viewports, blocking off the stars.

"Shielding complete. At your signal sir." Angel said.

Eru checked the parameters of his drive, appraising the figures one last time. "Warp in five, four, three," Eru inserted his captain's key in its lock "two, one." At one, he twisted the key, and felt the unearthly tug of the warp drive. The acceleration wasn't inconsiderable, even an experienced spacer like Eru would grit their teeth upon feeling it. This jump felt especially powerful, pulling like his first jump centuries ago. The readouts from the reactor spiked, Angel rattled off a countdown, and Eru sped through existence, pressed into his chair, awaiting a return to proper reality.

"Breaking warp now, sir, be ready for return to normal control." Angel said.

The tug of the drive died away, the reactor power dropped to normal levels, and Eru leaned forward to check his displays. His eyes widened as he did so. His positional readings were greatly in error. A small error in warp would not necessarily be cause for concern, but this was many orders of magnitude. Eru stared for a moment, struck dumb. "Angel, verify location data." He ordered, bringing up his stellar atlas.

Angel did not respond for a moment. That only heightened Eru's anxiety. An artificial intelligence as powerful as Angel rarely ever needed to "think", especially not about something as simple as verifying location data. He toggled the shielding on his viewports and unstrapped himself, feeling a black weight in his guts. He stood, gripping the panels in front of him as the viewport slowly opened. He saw a planet filling his view. A living, green and blue planet. A familiar green and blue planet.

Angel began to speak, his voice uncertain. "The location is correct, however, that planet is..."

"Earth." Eru finished. A peculiar emptiness settled over him, a cold, consuming numbness. He tightened his hold on the panels, his knuckles going white. "Pull all sensor data from before, during, and after the warp. All of it." Eru let go of the panels, his hands trembling. "I don't care what the sensor was for or what it was detecting, I want it all pulled." He didn't wait for a response, he lowered himself back into the chair, reattaching the harness. "I will set standard holding orbit for scan and start checking wireless frequencies."

Eru's bloodshot eyes stared into the dozens of screens. He rubbed his temples and huffed. The scans and radio data were less than helpful. Small populations, few and weak electric lights, almost no radio traffic, everything was wrong. His atlas showed that he was in the correct coordinate position, only, the planet in his sight was not Babylon, but Earth. His eyes flicked to the incomprehensible collection of data from the various sensors at the time of the jump. He glanced back at the many million word set of manuals, dissertations, and theses that explained how the warp drive aboard his ship worked in minute detail. He grimaced slightly and chewed his cigar contemplatively.

It would take years if not decades to piece together what exactly had just happened. The data was normal, at least to Eru's eyes. Angel could point out minor irregularities, but not explain why they had occurred, nor could he give any explanation other than what was known. Even a tool as powerful as Angel was a poor replacement for organic ingenuity.

He waved his hand and dismissed the screens. There would be time for theorizing what happened later, after all, he had time to spare. Now, to where he had ended up.

Eru studied his atlas again. He performed another check of position. He changed the relative reference points and did it again. His position remained constant, but the stars and planets stayed just as out of place as before. His atlas used relatively fixed points in the galaxy: the galactic core and its relation to several known space-time anomalies. These had been largely stationary, at least for the past several hundred years, therefore they were his and all other spacers' lighthouses. The Voidborne was where he had programmed it to go.

"This is our most recent stellar projection, is it not?" Eru asked.

"It is sir, still within the relevant dates as well, it was acquired in 3010, it will be fourteen years before it must be updated by a dedicated observation database." Angel replied.

Eru highlighted Earth and Babylon in his atlas. They sat on the same orbital plane and were almost equidistant to the galactic core. There were minor variations in their orbital paths, but they were markedly similar.

Eru nearly bit through his cigar as he sat up. "Angel, trace Earth's estimated travel over the last hundred years." He whispered. A line of light appeared on the atlas, following a long, lazy orbital arc. "A thousand years." Angel complied, extending the curve, a curve terminating in Babylon position. Eru felt his hand twitch again, his mouth fell open, letting his cigar drop. This sort of thing was not possible, should not be possible, could not be possible.

He looked to the radio signals he had been able to parse from the background. Weak and primitive, he only managed two he could say with confidence were artificial. Short, simple, in old morse code. He looked to the translation of one, garbled and tentative as it was.

"Al-cirs" leapt out at him. He wracked his brain for what it might mean. He had been educated a great deal in now-ancient history back to his formal officer's education. He had taken a class on history one thousand years before present (it had been for history four hundred years before present then) a class that included the geopolitical turmoil before the First World War.

"The year is 1906," Eru whispered "and we have become the first beings to travel through time."