"Where the hell is he?!" Ryuji stamped his foot impatiently, glaring down at his phone as if it had personally wronged him while Ann helped him into his new battle suit.

The second Makoto had received Uryū's message, she'd instructed the Phantoms to gather at Leblanc while sending a text Sae's way to warn her about the invasion. Futaba and Akira would be there, after all, and it was a location they were all familiar with. However, when the student council president reached the café, Sojiro informed her that both of his wards had gone out. Mind racing, she'd diverted the group to the Sakuras' house so they could at the very least fetch Ryuji's new suit – thankfully it turned out Morgana had a talent for breaking and entry.

"I told you, I don't know!" The Mod Soul threw his hands up into the air. "I got back from my walk, and his body was lying on his bed!" Morgana frowned, rubbing his plush hands together. "He's been pretty down in the dumps the last couple of days – maybe Futaba took him somewhere nice to get his mind off it?"

"In his Shinigami form?" Ryuji's voice was incredulous.

Ann pursed her lips. "Maybe… maybe he had an argument with his Hollow power mentor, and Futaba offered to mediate?" The blonde huffed as Ryuji sceptically raised a brow. "Hey, it's just a suggestion, alright?"

"… I'm going to call Futaba again." Makoto sighed, cutting the brewing fight off before it truly began.

As irritating as it was that Akira had left both his phone and his earpiece in the attic, Makoto couldn't begrudge him – he hardly could have predicted Aizen's forces would strike right now. Futaba though… she was online constantly. Why would she of all people suddenly be entirely uncontactable? The brunette dialled the younger teen yet again, and frustration bubbled in her stomach as she was greeted with the answerphone message for the umpteenth time.

"No response." She sighed, putting away her phone. Glumly, Makoto admitted that even if Futaba had answered, there was no guarantee she was even with Akira.

Ryuji put on the final piece of his armour, before turning his head to Ann. "Hey… what about that communication spell? The one you used in the Soul Society?"

Tersely, the blonde nodded. "I can give it a go."

Makoto watched, anticipation building up in her chest as Ann began to chant. Withdrawing a vial of dark powder from her Shihakushō, the Shinigami traced dark symbols onto the ground before weaving lines up her arms. Stretching her hands outwards, Ann finished her chant, but the Tenteikūra merely glowed for a split second before dimming.

The model furrowed her brows. "I… I can't find him. It's like something's hiding Akira's presence."

"Godammit!" Ryuji hissed, kicking Futaba's wardrobe. "Just how fuckin' paranoid is this Hollow powers teacher guy?!"

Makoto checked her phone one last time to no avail - even her text to Sae was still unread. Disappointment panged in her stomach – she really wasn't having any luck today, was she? Straightening her shoulders, the student council president made an executive decision.

"Let's go." Everyone stared at her in shock, and the brunette continued. "If the situation is as dire as Uryū fears we don't have the time to sit around and wait for them. If Akira sees our texts and joins us, great, but right now, we can't rely on him. Karakura's defence is up to us."

It was impossible to discern Ryuji's expression under his skull-like mask, but judging by his rigid posture, he was probably feeling just as dismayed as Ann looked. Despite her pale skin and furrowed brows, however, grim acknowledgement shone in the blonde's eyes. It was clear that deep down, she knew the student council president was right, and judging by the lack of fight Ryuji put up, he'd likely arrived at the same conclusion too.

Walking to her side, the armoured teen patted her shoulder. "Lead the way, Queen."

…..

Uryū summoned his Heilig Bogen, almost staggering at the sheer amount of Reishi that thrummed through his new and improved Quincy Cross. His plain longbow was a thing of the past - he now had access to far too much spiritual matter to wield such a simple weapon. Instead, Uryū's new Heilig Bogen was shaped like a cross, with strings of raw Reishi connecting the intersecting lines like a spiderweb. In a pinch, it would double as a somewhat ineffective shield.

He and Makoto had spent an evening analysing the differences between the Cross he'd inherited from his grandfather and the ones they'd stolen from Ryūken – if it was just him alone, he'd probably have used Ryūken's and been done with it, but the brunette had other plans. One book on wielding and several experiments later, they'd melded them together into a singular device that could safely maintain triple the amount of Reishi his prior one could.

The teenager didn't have the time to dwell on his new weapon, however - swallowing, he tensed as half a dozen Arrancar stepped out of the Garganta. Only one was familiar – a brawny Arrancar with electric blue hair that stood at the group's back. Grimmjow, Uryū believed. As the Quincy examined his foe, he noticed the Espada's left sleeve flutter in the evening breeze. Odd. I don't remember Urahara or Yoruichi mentioning that he was missing an arm. Uryū didn't focus on him for long, though – he was hardly the only threat there that evening.

Eyes moving to the front of the pack, Uryū saw that the leader of the group was a short, androgynous Arrancar with floppy sleeves. While his appearance was youthful, the Quincy didn't let down his guard - there was something predatory in the hybrid's eyes that set the teenager on edge. Standing not too far behind him were a trio of Arrancar – his Fracción, perhaps. At their lead was a dapper man with a handlebar moustache who was flanked by a shorter woman with tear-shaped facial tattoos and a taller man with a poofy red afro. Finally, there was a blond Arrancar who looked even younger than the invading party's leader. He was even more distant from the group than Grimmjow was, and despite the hefty claymore strapped to his back, seemed more interested in some moths fluttering through the night sky than the Shinigami standing below.

"Oh, you lot must be the reinforcements from the Soul Society that Six told us about." The leader purred, shooting a smug grin over his shoulder. "Oh, sorry – I mean the former Six."

While Grimmjow's face warped into an ugly sneer, he ignored the bait. "None of the guys I wanna kill are down there."

Without further ado, the Arrancar disappeared in a flash of shunpo, or whatever they called the Arrancar equivalent. Uryū cursed, and for a moment, he was torn. Should I pursue him? The Quincy was stronger now, but even if he had been demoted, Grimmjow was still an Espada-tier enemy. In the end, the teenager decided to stay put. Judging by his words, the former Espada had likely gone off to hunt down Urahara and Yoruichi who were both far more equipped to handle him than Uryū was. Besides, as Yumichika and Ikkaku finally shunpoed into the clearing, he noted that with Grimmjow's absence, there was one opponent for each of them.

Hitsugaya struck first – sweeping out his blade, the Captain jumped towards the invader's leader, shards of ice chipping off his silently released Shikai as the Arrancar blocked his blow. "Grimmjow's replacement, I assume?"

"Someone's been doing their research. I'm Luppi – the better Sexta Espada."

With Luppi distracted, Uryū turned to the remaining Arrancars. This time, they were the ones to initiate.

"Hmm…" The moustachioed man rubbed his chin as his eyes flicked towards Yumichika. "You seem like a gentlemanly enough foe to appreciate the might of Arrancar No. 103 – Dordoni!"

"I'll take you on then!" Ikkaku roared, charging past Dordoni and swinging his sword wildly down towards the afroed Arrancar.

With a tch, the lone female Arrancar surveyed the brawl with disdain. "Ugh – meatheads, the lot of you." Turning back to the unoccupied Karakura defenders, her nose wrinkled as her eyes landed on Matsumoto. "Pass – catfights are so unoriginal… I guess that means my opponent is you, four-eyes!"

That was the only warning Uryū got before she struck. As the woman withdrew her Zanpakutō, the Quincy was alarmed to see it wasn't a sword, but a whip. Rolling out of the way as it lashed past him, he caught a glimpse of a circular saw-like blade on its end. Hold on – how does that even fit into her sheathe?

He had no time to ponder the logistics of her weapon though as she yanked the blade in his direction. Luckily for Uryū, after all the sparring he'd done with Ann, he knew how to handle a woman with a whip. As her weapon's tip raced towards him, the Quincy minutely adjusted his posture. The Zanpakutō slipped through the gaps in his Heilig Bogen, tearing the fabric of his shirt but failing to scratch his skin. Uryū then twisted his weapon, and as the Arrancar attempted to withdraw her whip, the sawblade that made her Zanpakutō so lethal got snagged in his bow's guard. Yanking his Heilig Bogen to the side, he managed to tear her whip right out of her hands.

He only got a second to watch the Arrancar's comically shocked expression, however, before Luppi's voice rang across the clearing. "Oi, Privaron! These guys are a joke. I'll take them on, five-on-one! With my release, it'll be a laugh!"

Uryū froze in shock as Luppi's Reiatsu began to surge and the other Arrancar leapt out of the way. He can't be serious, right? On cue, Hitsugaya activated his Bankai, wings of ice surrounding his body, which only made the Quincy even more certain Luppi had overestimated himself. When eight tentacles burst out from a shell-like protrusion that formed over the Espada's back, however, and promptly batted the Captain straight out of the sky like he was nothing, Uryū's shock turned into horror.

"Captain!" Matsumoto yelled, the blonde's eyes wide. She then cursed. "Shit! Ikkaku, Yumichika, with me! Ishida-kun, you'll have to hold off the others yourself!"

The teenager's blood ran cold as the Shinigami were forced to abandon their prior fights in favour of converging on Luppi. Muscles tense, Uryū turned to face his new foes. Yumichika and Ikkaku hadn't had his luck in their fights - as the two male Arrancars advanced on Uryū, he could tell they were practically unscathed. Meanwhile, the female Arrancar had taken advantage of the distraction caused by Luppi's release to retrieve her Zanpakutō.

"Not so smug now, are you, four-eyes?" She taunted, cracking her whip.

Uryū tensed, until he noticed a speckle of Reiatsu on the horizon, and felt his hopes soar. "On the contrary." He grinned, notching his bow. "If you think you stand a chance of winning, you're sorely mistaken. Tell me… what took you so long?"

Each of the Arrancar jolted in shock as the crackle of shunpo echoed through the air, and three new figures entered the fray. At the front stood Makoto, who stared imperiously down at the Arrancar with her ominous red eyes. To her side were Ryuji and Ann, the former menacingly thumping his released Zanpakutō in his hands as the latter cracked Shinkubi's fiery whip.

"Apologies – we had some communication troubles. It's just us today, but I'm sure we'll be enough." Makoto acknowledged Uryū with a nod.

"Ah, the passion of youth…" The moustached Arrancar murmured. "Do not underestimate me though, Niña! Only one with Bankai would ever stand a chance against me, Dordoni!"

"Nah – I think we're estimating you perfectly well, actually." Ryuji rolled his shoulders, and glowing lines like circuitry flashed on his suit a split second before he lunged at the Arrancar with speeds even Uryū had trouble keeping up with.

The punkish teen's bat smashed into Dordoni with so much force, that the sound of the impact cracked through the air like thunder. The Arrancar was sent flying, smashing into the ground and kicking up a giant dust cloud that visibly rose above the surrounding treetops despite the nighttime gloom.

"I'll deal with this guy – the others are up to you!" The blond yelled before racing after Dordoni.

That was one down, two left.

"You have a whip, I have a whip – let's fight!" Ann beamed as she faced the female Arrancar.

"Ugh…! How generic!" The woman scowled, lips curling, but it seemed Ann had successfully drawn her ire, as she turned away from Uryū.

Stepping forward, Makoto approached the remaining Arrancar. "I suppose that means I'm your opponent."

"Very well. Let us have a fair fight." The afroed man bowed his head respectfully.

Well then. Uryū thought, suddenly realising that in a matter of seconds, he'd gone from having three opponents to zero. Unless you counted the blond arrancar who seemed perfectly content to ignore him in favour of collecting bugs, that was, and suffice to say, Uryū didn't.

Turning back to Luppi, Uryū arched his bow and blasted off one of the Arrancar's tentacles that was bearing down towards Matsumoto at a frightening pace. I guess we're gonna see how you handle five-on-one after all. Judging by the way the air was growing increasingly colder, however, Uryū didn't think the Espada would last for long.

…..

As Kurusu's cursed knife sailed through the air, Goro screamed internally. No, not now! Shido is mine! MINE!

The son of a bitch that was his father showed no understanding of the peril racing towards him, however, and merely raised a hand. Something flashed through the air, and a momentary wave of giddiness ran through Goro. Almost as quickly as he had struck, Kurusu suddenly pulled his Shikai off course, and Tasogare no Dorobō's dagger came clattering harmlessly down on the ground. Confused, Goro drew to a halt, shooting a puzzled glance at his rival. He had Shido dead to rights, so why…?

As he examined Kurusu, he saw all of the lanky teen's swagger had vanished. Instead, his rival stood stock-still, his expression vacant and eyes glazed over. The look was so completely and utterly wrong on him that Goro almost recoiled. What the hell did Shido just do?!

Kicking Kurusu's dagger to the side, the politician marched forward, not even bothering to look at his wounded assassin on the way. "Interesting… while I would have preferred to test it in a more controlled environment, it looks like those psientists have finally developed something actually useful."

"Sir?" Goro furrowed his brow as an awful sense of foreboding swept over him.

Shido shrugged, before stretching out his arm. Goro had noticed the odd gloves earlier, but hadn't paid them much heed in light of his incredibly narrow victory over Sae (which barely even felt like a victory at all, honestly). They were bulky things covered in electronic circuitry, and when he scrutinised them closely, the detective saw some sort of device strapped to their back.

"This is the end result of your contributions towards my Cognitive Psience labs." The man explained. "Sending Hollows into a frenzy was too unpredictable, so instead, I commanded the psientists to find other ways they could alter their psychological states instead." A twisted smirk that he'd never show around his constituents marred the politician's face. "Submissiveness is my favourite. All sense of rebellion is quashed, leaving my targets as mere puppets for my commands."

His father stepped forward and tilted Kurusu's head upwards, eyes glittering in dark amusement. Goro gritted his teeth as something inside him screamed. Get your fucking hands off him, you ape! Kururu was his – he was Goro's opponent to kill, his rival, his nemesis, his…! He wasn't a mere toy for Shido to play with!

Taking a deep breath in and out, the brunet attempted to calm himself. Patience. The election is almost here - I'm not going to throw everything away just because Shido is being predictably horrid. Besides, Goro had already signed off on Kurusu's death warrant, hadn't he? Was this truly any worse than being doped up on drugs and executed at the bottom of a police station?

Ignorant of his hitman's inner turmoil, curiosity flashed across Shido's eyes as he addressed Kurusu. "Tell me… as much of a hindrance as you've been to my goals, you're just a brat. Why would a mere child like you crave the power of the Hollows?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kurusu purred, giving Shido a cocky wink now that he had permission to speak. "I need to get strong enough to fight Aizen."

The hairs on the back of Goro's neck prickled. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. While it was Kurusu's mouth that opened and closed, the voice that came out of it wasn't his – it couldn't be. It was too low, too lilted, Kurusu's iron conviction absent in favour of something vapid and empty instead. As dreadful as his voice was, however, it still wasn't half as bad as his eyes. The grey pits were as empty as a void and as lifeless as a morgue. Everything that made Kurusu himself was just... gone. It was then that Goro had a realisation - this wasn't his rival. It was a walking corpse.

Shaking his head, the detective turned away. He would not turn against his father here, but that didn't mean he took any joy in seeing the other teenager so… diminished.

"… Who?" The politician furrowed his brow.

The Detective Prince shrugged. "I'm not sure. He hasn't mentioned that name to me before."

Sighing, Shido shook Kurusu, who flopped in his grip like a ragdoll. "Elaborate."

"Aizen… he's an evil ex-Captain." The husk waved a hand dismissively, not even reacting to the politician's brusque treatment. "Ran off to Hueco Mundo to make an Arrancar army so he can invade the World of the Living and destroy Karakura town in an attempt to become god."

Complete and total silence descended over the hallway. Slowly, Goro blinked. He'd never heard anything more batshit insane in his life. Did Shido's little trick fry Kurusu's brain or something?

"What the hell do you mean, become god?" The Detective pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperation leaking through his every pore.

"He's gonna kill the Soul King and take his place." Kurusu replied, which explained absolutely nothing.

"… Take us through this so-called Aizen's plan, one step at a time." Shido ordered, peering oddly at Akechi's rival.

As Kurusu wove them a nonchalant but informative tale about Royal Realms and spiritually enriched lands, Goro's brows rose. While the detective had been dead certain at first that Shido's Hollow control device had scrambled something in Kurusu's head, the longer the boy babbled on, the more it dawned on him that no, Kurusu genuinely was trying to deal with some nutjob who wanted to remake reality.

Slowly digesting the Shinigami's words, Shido rubbed his chin. "I see. The fact that the Shinigami have access to so much power at the tips of their fingers… it truly is mindboggling. Thank you, Phantom, for enlightening me." Turning to Goro, he gave a brusque nod in Kururu's direction. "Kill him."

Goro stilled. "Sir?"

"You heard me." Shido's brow furrowed as he glared at his son. "Your conduct today has been disappointing, but surely you can't mess up so simple a task."

Suddenly, everything seemed to freeze to a halt. Goro's breath and heartbeat echoed in his ears like a drumbeat as the motes of dust sifting through the Diet Building's air slowed to a stop. While his fingers slowly inched towards his gun, the detective couldn't tear his eyes off Kurusu's face. Goro drank in every pore in his rival's skin – the way his curly hair framed his glasses, and the curve of his jaw – but no matter where he looked, Kururu's blank eyes haunted his vision.

It was then that the detective realised he'd been wrong. This was infinitely worse than assassinating him in the interrogation room. At least Kurusu would have known Goro was the one who killed him.

Swallowing, the teenager paused. "Forgive me for the impertinence, Shido-san, but I can't help but question the logic of this decision. Kurusu is the perfect target for taking the heat for our crimes and securing your election victory in one swoop. None of that can happen though unless he has a flashy, public arrest. He was clearly lying about Sae-san, and unlike her, I know the other Phantoms aren't a threat. If they've both been taken out of the game, why not follow our original plan?"

Shido scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "That hardly matters anymore – why bother settling for being a mere prime minister when godhood is in my reach?"

In a few small words, Goro's world ended. Blood drained from the teenager's face as static rang in his ears. It was as if a dark mist had seeped into the Diet Building, dulling everything around him. This had to be some sort of sick joke – it had to be.

"… Pardon?" Goro's tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth, which paradoxically was as dry as a desert.

"You heard me – if this Aizen person is truly relying on an army of Hollows, it'll be easy enough to usurp him. The Shinigami will fall to our might, and I, Shido Masayoshi, will rule over both the heavens and the earth!"

Hysterical laughter echoed through the corridor, and it took Goro half a second to realise it was coming from him. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it. All this time, and all this bloodshed… it had been pointless. Goro's sole purpose for years was to make everyone know Shido's name, so the world itself would scream in delight when Goro dragged his monster of a father down into the bowels of hell. The second Shido had thought he'd found a juicier offer, however, he'd abandoned all thoughts of becoming prime minister in the blink of an eye.

If his father abandoned the mortal realm for the spiritual one, none of the mindless masses who filled the streets of Tokyo would ever understand his crimes. If Shido failed his attempt at deicide (which was pretty bloody likely), he would be just another generic politician quickly forgotten by the annals of time. Even worse, if Shido succeeded… he would reign over humanity unopposed. No press nor politicians could take him down, no matter what poisonous truths Goro whispered into their ears. Even the Shinigami wouldn't stand a chance of taking him down, assuming they even existed in Shido's new world.

The pity in Kurusu's eyes as he offered Goro the chance to take Shido down together floated to the forefront of the brunet's mind. His rival had known Goro's revenge scheme had been futile all along, hadn't he? While the speed at which Kurusu had started to catch up to him was terrifying, the detective had been so confident that he'd always be one step ahead. Goro couldn't have been more wrong – Kurusu had eclipsed him in every way that mattered a long time ago. Despite being nothing but criminal trash exiled to an attic, he had friends who cared for him, confidants who would bail him out whenever he fell, and the power to realise his justice. Meanwhile, Goro's circumstances had been just as grim, but while Kurusu flourished despite them, the assassin had forsaken everything he could have bad for a hunger for vengeance he'd never be able to satisfy.

For the first time in many years, the brunet felt something akin to grief. If Goro hadn't focused solely on gaining power, would he have been able to reach out to his peers and make actual bonds? If he'd viewed Sae as a genuine mentor instead of yet another adult to manipulate, would he have been able to confide in her and use her connections to punish Shido within the bounds of the law? If he'd just taken Kurusu's offer, scarcely a week and yet a full lifetime ago… he wouldn't be standing here with his rival reduced to nothing more than a walking corpse as his revenge lay in tatters.

Shido's baritone drawl snapped the detective out of his spiralling thoughts. "Stop dawdling and kill him already. I need you to take me to the Cognitive Psience lab – the second I've donned my Anti-Reiryoku gear, we'll march on Aizen's base."

Silently, Goro withdrew his Zanpakutō, and looked into his rival's eyes one last time as he silenced the maelstrom of emotions battering him like a storm. Turning on his heel, he pointed his blade at Shido.

"No."

It was a poor consolation prize, but Goro had collected enough evidence to give his father the death penalty several times over. While it would deny him the catharsis he so desperately craved, the brunet had always been good at adapting – ruining Shido's name post-mortem would have to suffice.

A flicker of surprise crossed his damned father's face, but all soon, Shido's expression smoothed out into bland neutrality. "… I always knew this day would come. You've always been a bit too much like your mother – emotional."

Goro reeled backwards as if he'd been stabbed. Bile rose to the back of his throat as he watched his father in shock. "What?!"

"For a so-called ace detective, you truly are an idiot, aren't you?" The politician sneered, jutting out his chin. "I knew who you were the second you walked into my office. Hoping to trap me, weren't you? Still, it was easy to string you along – all I needed to do was offer a little praise, and you'd dance for me like a puppet on strings."

"You… you bastard!" Goro howled, an inferno of fury and hatred engulfing him. He knew. Shido knew the whole fucking time that Goro was his son. From the goddamn bloody start, the politician had played the detective like a fiddle.

I'll kill him. I'll kill him! I'LL KILL HIM! Gritting his teeth so hard they cracked, his vision grew red. With an unearthly howl, Goro tore towards his enemy, his Reiatsu roaring like a tornado. A fog of hatred consumed him, and the only thing Goro cared about at that moment was ripping out Shido's throat.

He was so blinded by his anger, that Goro failed to realise he'd played right into the politician's hands. Smirking, Shido raised his palm, and just like it had for Kurusu are mere ten minutes beforehand, his vision went black.

…..

Cupping her hands over her mouth, Futaba held back a scream. The second Akechi had lunged at Shido with hatred burning like wildfire in his eyes instead of doing something sensible like shunpoing behind the asshole and stabbing him in the back, the hacker knew it was game over. You idiot! You're meant to be a detective – can't you tell he's goading you?!

Still, as Akira had proven mere moments ago, despite his fake princely glamour, Akechi was ultimately controlled by his emotions. With a flick of Shido's wrist, the detective's pace slowed and the same vacantness that plagued Akira entered his eyes. Trembling, the hacker's stomach twisted. While Akira hadn't had the time to explain the whole story, it had been easy enough for her to put two-and-two together. She was more than familiar with the White-Masked Killer's Reiatsu by now, and it had engulfed Sae's on the SIU's rooftop like a swamp.

As she watched the Phantoms' greatest enemy – the remorseless killer who sicced an army of Hollows on them before dragging their name through the mud, the man technically responsible for her mother's death – fall thrall to Shido's power, she felt no sense of triumph or even schadenfreude. The only thing Futaba felt was sick. Akechi had finally decided to do something good for once in his life, and it was all for nothing.

Shido's lips curled, and Futaba gulped. Akechi had never scared her, not even once, and any misapprehension she felt towards the White-Masked Killer was born from caution as opposed to fear. Shido, though? Shido terrified her.

"What a waste." He sneered at Akechi before turning back to Akira, and Futaba's heart jumped in her chest. The politician's expression was contemplative, however. "… You should be thankful for Akechi's sacrifice. Now that he no longer has his wits, perhaps I might need some extra muscle after all. Speaking of that… Akechi. A Garganta. Now."

No! The hacker's breath caught in her throat as silently, the Detective Prince tore open a portal. Futaba instinctively knew that if Akira stepped through that Garganta, she would lose him forever. She had no idea where any of the other Phantoms were, and no matter what she said, Sae was not going to be back on her feet in half an hour. That meant saving him was up to her and her alone, and Futaba refused to stand still and let her brother be taken! As her eyes darted around the corridor, desperately looking for some magical solution to her problems, the hacker realised that despite all her determination, she had no idea how to actually do that. It was then, however, that their initial plan for tackling evil monster Sae floated to the surface of her mind. Futaba might not have any powers other than a big brain and autism, but even if she didn't have a magic ghost sword, maybe, just maybe, she'd still be able to reach Akira's heart.

As Akechi hopped gracefully into the Garganta, Shido striding in after him without a moment's hesitation, her stomach flipped – she was out of time. Scrambling forward, she reached out towards Akira and grabbed at his leg. Instead of meeting flesh, however, Futaba blinked as her hand sunk into him. She only had a second to gawp, however, before a sucking sensation suddenly pulled her forward. With a yelp, Futaba tumbled forward into Akira's back as the world vanished around her.

Darkness surrounded her and she fell, and fell, and fell. The hacker has no idea how long she spent in the air but eventually, she landed on a solid stone floor with a thump.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow…" She hissed, rubbing her aching butt. Ugh, I am just NOT built for actual irl missions!

She had no time to curl up on the cold floor and sob, however – Futaba had a friend to save! Stumbling to her feet, she blinked, vision blurred even behind her glasses. It took a moment for her head to clear, and when it did, the teen felt her jaw drop wide open.

Futaba was no longer in the Diet Building, or even the void between worlds.

Instead, she stood in front of a prison.

…..

"Akira? Akira, please… wake up…"

As consciousness slowly began to return to the teen, the first thing he noticed was the sound of someone sobbing. The person shook his shoulder again and again, and groaning, his head lolled. What… what just happened? His eyes slowly flickered open, scattered memories slowly slotting back into place. Akechi's betrayal, followed by Futaba running into the attic in a panic… Sae's revelation of the Conspiracy's mastermind, that ended with… ended with…

He shot up immediately, eyes wide. That ended with Shido doing something to him.

Akira had no time to think about what exactly had happened, however, as someone let out a choking gasp, and suddenly, a pair of arms latched onto him. Blinking, he instantly realised the burnt orange hair was Futaba's as the younger girl cried into his arms.

"… What's wrong?" A trickle of alarm ran through him. "You're not hurt, are you?!"

The hacker sniffed, but when she pulled away, rubbing her eyes – her goggles absent in favour of her usual glasses – she was smiling. "Nah - I-I'm just happy you're alright!"

"Oh." Akira's expression softened. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

It was then though that he realised Futaba wasn't the only one who'd gone through a sudden costume change. Now that his senses had finally finished rebooting, the frizzy-haired teen felt rough fabric scratching against his skin, and recognised the sensation instantly – he was donned in the prison robes he always found himself in when he went to his inner world.

Blinking, Akira peered around. They were surrounded by cage-like cells that were stacked on top of each other until they disappeared into the heavens. The walls, floor, and even the metal bars were various shades of blue, almost granting the illusion that the whole panopticon was underwater. While those had always been features of his inner world, there was a notable change in its status quo. Namely, thick, heavy chains had wrapped themselves around each of the cells, bar his own and one other, whose doors had been blasted wide open instead. More eerily, Tasogare no Dorobō was nowhere to be seen. Admittedly, that was possibly a blessing considering the current state of their relationship.

Still, while it wasn't too strange that he was in his inner world - Renji had off-handedly mentioned once it was fairly common for unconscious Shinigami to wake up in theirs - how the hell was Futaba here? It was definitely her in the flesh as opposed to a construct his mind had conjured up – her Reiatsu was small and spluttering, entirely out of place compared to the ambient energy surrounding them, and the girl felt far too solid in his arms to be a mere figment of his imagination.

"Futaba… what the hell is going on?"

Biting her lip, her expression crumpled as she looked away. "Shido… he used his research on Akechi's Shikai to create a device that can mind control Hollows."

"Mind control?" The teenager froze, muscles stiffening. "Not just frenzying?!"

Slowly, she nodded her head. "Yeah. He used it on you and got you to blab everything about Aizen to him. He… I think Shido wants to steal Aizen's army and take on the Soul King himself."

Akira wrinkled his nose. "Uh…"

Yeah, there was no way in hell that was going to achieve anything other than getting Shido very, very killed.

Futaba, however, didn't look mollified at all. "Akechi tried to stop him, but… but Shido used the device on him too."

He froze, every hair on the back of his neck rising. "… Wait, seriously?"

Akechi… turned against Shido? Before winter had passed? Taking in a sharp breath, a maelstrom of emotions exploded within him with all the force of a nuclear bomb. In the wake of Okumura's death, Akira had been all too happy to write Akechi off as a mere monster, an angry beast so consumed by vengeance that it left nothing but pain in its wake. If Futaba's story was accurate though… it meant there was a line in the sand that even Akechi hadn't been willing to cross.

The first feeling Akira identified was anger. Why did his rival take until now – until it was too late – to realise his revenge scheme was utterly ridiculous? There was nothing inherently stopping him from reflecting on his actions and seeing the truth, so why did he need to brutally murder Haru's dad? Why did he need to frame the Phantoms?! Why did he do any of this?! Still, the rage that festered inside him like a lingering rot was quickly doused out by a wave of sadness. It turned out Akira hadn't been wrong when he thought he saw a glimpse of humanity when he stared at his rival. In the end, Akechi had been willing to throw away his personal vendetta for the sake of the world – for Akira's sake.

After their fallout, Akira had thought Akechi's comment about them potentially being friends in another lifetime was nothing but a series of honeyed words aimed to lower his guard. It seemed though that his rival had actually been telling the truth. If only we'd met before he began to work with Shido… if only I had the chance to reach out my hand… I... I could have saved him. So much pain and suffering could have been averted, if only Akira had ever gotten the chance.

Taking in a deep breath, he attempted to smother the myriad of emotions that assailed him. Quite frankly, it would probably take days to unpack his twisted, complex feelings towards his rival, and Akira didn't have the time for that right now. Instead, he focussed back on Futaba. "What happened next?"

"Shido got Akechi to open a Garganta and decided to bring you along as not-so-hired muscle. I knew if you left though, there'd be no coming back, so… I grabbed your leg. And that's when it happened!" She spread her arms out widely. "Blammo! I fell down for ages, and ended up crash-landing here! Where the heck even is this place? It's… not Hueco-whatsit, right?"

This time, Akira was the one with the answers. "No, we're in my inner world. Don't ask me how you got here, though – I have absolutely no idea."

Futaba's brow scrunched in confusion, clearly as baffled about how she ended up in Akira's psyche as he was, but before she could reply, a familiar voice echoed down from above them.

"It was I who summoned her here."

The hacker squeaked, ducking behind him, and Akira rose to his feet, bristling as the sound of flapping of wings echoed through the panopticon. Descending from seemingly nowhere, Tasogare no Dorobō drifted towards the ground. Landing elegantly, the Zanpakutō spirit stared aloofy at them with his impassive golden eyes.

Akira bit his lip, wary. A part of him knew he owed the spirit an apology – he'd been fucking things up left and right lately, after all. Still, that didn't change the fact that Tasogare no Dorobō had been acting erratically – acting dangerously – since they went to Soul Society. Trust was a two-way street, after all, and he knew damn well what his blade was capable of. Conceding any ground to the spirit while he was still Hollowfied could be a lethal mistake, especially with Futaba here.

Ironically, it was the hacker who broke the stalemate. "H-how? I mean, I get how Akira's here, but I've never heard of Zanpakutō spirits taking other people in their weird brain realms before."

Akira's muscles tightened as Tasogare no Dorobō tilted his head, but thankfully, the Zanpakutō took Futaba's question in as much stride as he was probably capable of. "That is an answer thou will have to seek yourself. Or to be more accurate… thou." Turning his head towards Akira, he flapped his wings, sending downy black feathers scattering through the air as he rose back into the sky. "Your mind is a prison, bound by both fate and your own distortions. Unless you plunge into the depths of thy heart and destroy the root of said perversion, Shido's shackles will continue to ensnare thy mind until any chance of freedom is lost forever."

Almost on cue, Akira jolted as a metallic clanging echoed through the panopticon, and even more chains wrapped around the cells, causing the iron doors to buckle under the strain.

"Show me the strength of thy will! It is now time to change your fate, and rise against the abyss within you!" With a theatrical twirl, Tasogare no Dorobō disappeared in a flourish of blue fire, leaving the two teenagers alone.

Futaba pushed up her glasses. "… Well, I don't know what that was all about, but I think we should probably do what your ominous brain spirit told us to. Let's make like a hedgehog and roll on out of here!"

"Uh, yeah." Akira blinked mawkishly. Distortion? Fate? Just what the hell was his Zanpakutō talking about?

Still, Futaba was right – Tasogare no Dorobō clearly wanted him to do something, and if it would stop Shido piloting his body like a toy robot (the thought of which made Akira gag), he was game. Glancing around the panopticon, Akira mulled over their next move. He could probably summon his Shikai if he focussed, but he didn't think there was any point climbing upwards right now – all the cells were sealed shut, and somehow, he had a gut feeling it simply wasn't what he needed to do. So, that him two options. He could return to the cell he normally awoke in, which would achieve nothing, so by default, that left the other broken door. Walking over to the gloomy cell, he quickly realised the gloomy cell wasn't actually a cell after all. Instead of ending in a wall, the darkness stretched on infinitely.

"This way." Akira called out. "It's a passage."

Futaba gave him a nod and quickly scurried towards him. As they advanced through the pitch-black tunnel, the duo remained silent, the only sound being the echo of their feet on stone. Eventually, a faint light began to glow in the distance – it seemed they were nearing the passage's end. As he approached it, however, Akira's brows furrowed as the light seemed to move.

He discovered why the second he left the tunnel.

Brows rising sky high, he couldn't help but gawp. The passage from the panopticon had brought them to a vast plain, which was surrounded by bulky concrete walls topped with barbed wire. Pillars of haphazardly stacked cages dotted the horizon, reaching so high they blotted out the sky, assuming they were even outside at all. Turning his focus back to the expanse before him, Akira bit his lip as he saw it was dotted with numerous guard towers that shined spotlights down onto the roughshod dirt floor. The outposts paled in comparison to the modern-day fortress in the distance, however.

Swallowing, Akira found himself looking at a mountainous prison that made the panopticon look like a child's toy in comparison. "Well. Bet you ¥10,000 that's where we need to go."

"Uh, no – that's a sucker's bet." Futaba whistled, raising her brows. "But damn, didn't think your brain would have a built-in stealth puzzle. Dunno what's gonna happen if we get caught by those lights, but I've played enough games to know it can't be anything good."

Akira nodded in agreement. "Let's take this nice and slow."

Slowly, they crept through the yard, the atmosphere burning with tension. While the pattern of the spotlights was predictable, Akira was worried the sound of shunpo would alert the facility, and as much as an asset Futaba had been so far, sprinting wasn't one of her strengths. Akira frequently had to drag her after him as they ducked and weaved between the watchtowers. Given the time spent waiting for Futaba to gather her breath and calculating the optimum moment to advance, it was slow progress.

They'd almost reached the ginormous prison's entrance when finally, they messed up. Akira wasn't sure exactly where they went wrong – he might have lost patience and made them march too soon, or Futaba's energy might have flagged, making her even slower than normal. Either way, her foot caught on a spotlight's edge, and a loud, screeching siren echoed across the yard.

Akira got ready to run, but it was too late. The ground rumbled beneath them, the tower's shadows gurgling ominously before two wretched figures burst out of the darkness. The teen took a surprised step backwards. While the prison's guards were roughly humanoid in shape, wafts of black energy floated off their tar-like skin, and they lurched forward on warped and distended limbs. The worst thing, however, was their faces – a pure white mask covered their heads, far too close to a Hollow's mask for Akira's liking.

As they charged, he put himself between them and Futaba, attempting to muster his Reiatsu and unleash a binding spell. As he reached towards his Reiryoku reserves though, Akira froze as horror suddenly fluttered in his stomach. He couldn't feel his spiritual energy at all.

Cursing, he pushed Futaba away as the first guard struck, smashing a stun baton down on Akira's back. He wheezed as it struck him, but while the crackle of electricity hurt, it was not the pain that made him stumble. Instead, he tripped as the sound of a voice suddenly exploded into his head.

"You stupid boy! Do you have any idea what the neighbours are saying about us?!"

Staggering, Akira fell to the ground, the words stupid boy echoing on repeat in his mind. What the hell was that?! He… he recognised those words. But how…?

The teenager felt so discombobulated, by the time the next guard reached him, he was still on his knees. Turning around, Akira had no time to do anything but watch as the monster swung its baton straight down at him.

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Futaba yelled, and with a scream, she charged at the guard, limbs flailing as she tackled it.

In theory, it was a pathetic blow. Even with all of the weight of her body behind her (which was not a lot), Futaba was a scrawny, unathletic girl who hadn't genuinely exercised since grade school. Suffice to say, when the guard was sent flying, and crashed into a nearby wall before dispersing into vapour, she looked just as stunned as Akira felt.

Her surprise quickly vanished though, and a wicked grin crossed the hacker's face. "Mweheheh… time to face justice. Eat this – flying Futaba kick!"

As she hit the remaining guard with what was a very clumsy attempt at hook kick, the monster wasn't vanquished, but despite all odds it still fell to the ground. It attempted to pull itself back up, and Akira took the opportunity to lunge. Honestly, if Futaba could cause that much damage, Akira would be able to take them out with ease, powers or not. He swung a fist into the guard's stomach, and letting out a groan, the creature buckled. He followed up by snaring it in a headlock, and snapped the monster's neck. It disintegrated into black motes, and the odd staticky tension in the air seemed to disperse with it.

While he knew he should probably be happy, Akira mainly felt confused. They'd been ridiculously easy to take down in the end, but that blow he received earlier… he winced as his back ached at the memory. It had hurt – far more than any attack from such a weak monster should have. Just what was going on here?

"What's up?" Futaba furrowed her brows.

"It's my spiritual powers. I can't feel them." He grimaced. "Plus, those monsters…"

As Akira explained his musings, the hacker's eyes suddenly lit up. "Of course! That's it!" Futaba snapped her fingers. "I've been thinking – there's no way your Zanpakutō can take me into your inner world. I mean, that doesn't make any sense!"

Akira nodded, not really understanding what she was getting at.

"Ergo, this place isn't your inner world, but somewhere else!"

Okay, he was officially baffled. "But… it's so similar. And Tasogare no Dorobō is here."

… At the same time, however, it wasn't identical. Even ignoring Shido's encroaching influence, he'd never seen a single hint that there was anything beyond the panopticon in his inner world, let alone so much of it.

Futaba's eyes glazed over as she nibbled at her lip, deep in thought. "I think… if your inner world is a reflection of your soul, this place might be a reflection of your mind instead – the place your Shikai rifles through and cuts when you hit a target."

Akira mulled things over. He supposed he could see where she was coming from. When he targeted people with Tasogare no Dorobō, he didn't feel like he was striking the very essence of their being. No, he hit something a lot less primal than that - a metaphorical layer of the self that was shaped by logic and knowledge and memory as much as it was somebody's raw, unfiltered ego. It was a known fact that people could enter the very depths of their own soul, so was it so strange that his Zanpakutō could physically force someone to enter something akin to the layer above that?

... Okay, it absolutely was, but it wasn't like Akira had any better ideas about what on earth was going on.

"If that's the case, why can't I access my powers?" He furrowed his brows. "I mean, I – or at the very least, Tasogare no Dorobō – used them to enter this place to begin with if your theory is correct. Not to mention, that doesn't explain why the guards were so strong yet simultaneously so weak."

Futaba shook her head. "Actually, it does. When you use your Shikai, you don't affect someone's Reiatsu or Reishi. You affect else – the emotions they feel, the views they hold. Mind, not soul. That might be what this place operates on – not Reiryoku, which is the power of the soul, but belief. You got hurt by the guard since you thought it was a threat. I curbstomped the first guard since I knew I had to stop it from touching you."

Akira blinked, caught off guard. Futaba's theory had suddenly upgraded from making a tiny bit of sense to making a lot of it. That would explain why her blow against the second guard still worked, but wasn't nearly as powerful – she believed she could harm it, but wasn't riding the same high as she was when she attacked the first guard. And following that logic, the reason he beat the second guard handily was because he knew that Futaba of all people was physically capable of beating the first.

"I think you've nailed it." Akira nodded, impressed, before looking around. "We've spent enough time talking – let's get out of this courtyard."

Futaba shuddered. "Don't need to tell me twice!"

Hurrying across the remaining stretch of the yard, much to Akira's relief, they dodged the last couple of spotlights with ease. It didn't take long for them to reach the prison's doors, and Futaba made quick work of the security pad. Seeing no reason to delay, Akira pushed the bulky iron doors wide open.

The prison opened up into a long, sterile corridor with plain off-white walls, and pathetic fluorescent lights dotting the ceiling that barely managed to illuminate the place. As the duo cautiously crept inside, feet softly echoing on the vinyl floor, Futaba shuddered, and stuck close to Akira's side.

"This place gives me the creeps." She murmured, careful to keep her voice low.

Akira nodded, but was distracted as his eyes landed upon a pinboard set into a wall. While it was incongruous enough, the papers stapled to it made him pause. There was a timetable – probably of the guards' rotation – but the rest of the board was covered with crude children's drawings and plastic stars. Odd – I guess the non-sentient guards in my fake brain prison all have loving families?

It was such a stupid detail, despite it not mattering at all, Akira had trouble banishing it from his mind as they continued down the corridor. The seemingly endless pathway was dotted with cells crammed with uncomfortable prison bunks, but Akira paid them little heed – it wasn't like they led anywhere, anyway. Eventually, he came to a halt as the corridor split, branching off left and right. The monotony of the prison's walls was broken by a grated window that overlooked a rather pathetic courtyard – there was nothing in it but a small tussock of grass and a crooked basketball hoop. Akira narrowed his eyes as an odd sense of déjà vu ran over him. There was something almost familiar about this place, but what? He'd never entered a prison in real life before, only a holding cell.

After a moment's deliberation, the duo eventually decided to go right – if it turned out to be a dead end, they could just backtrack. As they marched down the hallway though, Akira froze as he heard rhythmic footsteps echoing in the distance. Shit – it must be another guard! He quickly scanned their surroundings – sure, they could probably take it down between the two of them, but he had no idea how much more of the prison he needed to explore. Even if their strength here was determined by their state of mind, they'd still tire if they got into too many fights. Plus, the ruckus could draw in even more enemies. It was simply better to avoid a fight if possible.

He spotted a cabinet nestled on the side of the wall. "In here – let's wait until the guard's gone."

Opening the cabinet, the frizzy-haired teen was relieved to see just enough room for both of them if they curled up tightly. Akira slowed his breathing, leaving the door slightly cracked open so he could observe the hall. Thankfully, as the shambling shadow creature lurched into view, it paid no heed to the cabinet and continued its patrol. The muscles in the teenager's shoulder loosened with relief. Guards or not, the monsters didn't seem particularly intelligent – as long as they were quiet and out of sight, the duo would likely be ignored.

The second the guard rounded the corner, Akira hopped out of the cabinet, more than happy to be able to stretch his legs again. "Let's go – I don't want to get caught on its return trip."

Hurrying away, the frizzy-haired teen was so focused on creating as much space between them and the shadow beast as possible, he didn't notice the door until Futaba tugged at his sleeve. "Akira, look!"

He drew to a halt and turned to face what had caught his foster sister's eye. It wasn't yet another cell, but a solid steel doorway with a key card reader to its side. More important than that though were the words emblazoned on it – 'security'.

"Good catch, Futaba." His heart skipped a beat. While he hadn't seen any cameras, now that he thought about it, the facility probably had them – better nip that problem in the bud.

Thankfully, while Akira had anticipated a fight once Futaba finished hacking into the security room, it seemed luck was on their side for once. The room was empty – perhaps the guard they'd passed before was the only one stationed here. Creeping inside, he looked around curiously. It resembled nearly every security room he'd ever seen on TV like – large CCTV monitors covered one wall from head to toe, and a desk accompanied by a dark plush chair was settled in front of them.

"Oooh, gimme gimme!" Futaba chanted, beelining towards the monitors and plonking herself down in the chair.

Affectionally, Akira shook his head. Now that she was in her hacker mode, she'd be there for a while. He decided to use the opportunity to snoop around. Outside of the monitors, there wasn't too much of note in the room. Rifling through the trash only netted him a burger wrapper, shredded paper, and a crushed can of soda. More interestingly though, there was a pair of keys placed on the desk – while it looked like all the important areas of the prison were sealed electronically, it didn't hurt to have them just in case.

He stumbled upon his most important find, however, when he frisked the jacket draped over the back of the guard's chair. A crinkling noise emanated from one of the pockets, and sticking his hands inside, Akira withdrew a folded-up piece of paper. Opening it up, his breath caught in his throat when he realised it was a map.

"Futaba, look at this." He tapped her shoulder.

A flash of irritation crossed her face at the interruption, but it quickly vanished when she saw what Akira had found. "Oh, damn – good catch! I've just about finished here. Gimme a sec and I'll join you!"

Spreading out the map, Akira examined every little detail. While the prison seemed to stretch on infinitely from the outside, it looked like they actually only needed to go up one floor to reach the exit. From there, all they needed to do was cross the other half of the main yard, scale the walls, and then they'd be free. As he poured over the map again to see if there was anything he'd missed, something tickled at the back of his mind. There was something odd about the prison's layout, but no matter how hard Akira looked at it, he couldn't quite figure out why he felt that way.

As Futaba peered over his shoulder, he dismissed his thoughts and pointed towards the exit. "I've plotted out our route."

When she saw where his finger was pointing through, she frowned. "Hmm. I dunno – remember what Tasogare no Dorobō said? He didn't tell us to escape this place – he wanted us to destroy the root of the distortion, whatever that is."

Akira's shoulders slumped and a twinge of guilt formed in his stomach. He was the leader of the Phantoms, and yet, Futaba had needed to pick up the slack for him ever since they'd arrived here. If Tasogare no Dorobō hadn't brought her here, I'd be useless. The teen straightened his shoulders. There was nothing more to it – he simply needed to be better.

"If we need to destroy something… I think it might be the prison itself." He rubbed his chin. "After all, it's kind of symbolic of Shido imprisoning my mind, right?"

As he scanned the map again though, Akira came up blank. Without access to his Shinigami powers, it wasn't like he could crush this place with his bare hands. That meant he'd need to arm himself with something, but there wasn't any weapons room or even a science lab he could whip something up in.

"Any ideas?" He sighed, defeated. "I'm trying to figure out how to bring this place down, but all I'm drawing is blanks."

"Heheheh… yeah, actually! Never underestimate a hacker." Futaba rubbed her nose. "I noticed something odd when I broke into the security systems – I could turn off the cameras, but I couldn't open the cells. It seems like they're connected to one circuit, which can only be disabled in person. Most of your plan's solid, but instead of going there…" She pointed at the prison's exit. "… We go here." She trailed her finger down a spit of land running along the prison's side and tapped a small shed. "Releasing all the inmates is kinda like destroying a prison, right?"

Akira shrugged – what the hell, it was better than anything he'd come up with. "Sure, why not?"

After making sure the coast was clear, they slipped back out into the hallway. As they advanced towards the stairs to the next floor, Akira and Futaba had to dodge a couple more guards, but thankfully, the lumbering creatures continued to be as unobservant as ever. They'd nearly reached the stairs when Akira saw yet another oddly decorated pinboard, and he drew to a halt. Suddenly, it dawned on him why he'd felt this odd sense of déjà vu ever since he'd entered the prison.

"Hey, mind passing me the map?" He asked. Futaba handed him the brochure, and skimming over it again, Akira confirmed his suspicions. "It's my schools."

The hacker wrinkled her brow. "Pardon?"

"The prison – each floor's layout is based on a school I've gone to. This one's just like my elementary school but large, and if you look at the layout for the second level, it's just each floor in Shujin stacked side-by-side."

"Huh, good catch." Futaba whistled before her expression turned mischievous. "Still, your weird mind prison is based on your schools? That sounds like something more from Ryuji's brain, not yours!"

"You only say that because you haven't had to trudge through Ushimaru's social studies classes." He japed.

As they rounded the corner, however, the smile immediately dropped off Akira's face. Two guards stood directly in front of the stairwell, cradling their stun batons menacingly. Akira wasn't particularly surprised by that though – things had been smooth sailing so far, so it was about time an actual obstacle was thrown in their way. No, what had disturbed him was not the guard's presence, but their appearance. They weren't shadow monsters, but people. Two people he'd recognise anywhere, in fact.

Standing between Akira and his goal was his mother and father.