Byakuya felt strange. His body hung motionlessly, surrounded by a seemingly endless tide of shadows which threatened to swallow him. Perhaps it would be for the best, he thought, as no matter his effort, he had no control over his body. It remained still, wrapped in an illusionary blanket made of pitch-black darkness akin to black velvet. Yet, there was no comfort in this forced embrace. No, there was only regret and irritation. Time, as a concept, ceased to exist for the dark-haired man. It would have been nearly, if not downright impossible, for him to know how long he had hung out there against his will. Nonetheless, Kuchiki could do nothing but step back into the darkest depths of his mind to deal with things, memories, or ideas that should have been buried and forgotten long ago. It was a place he concisely avoided as he knew all too well that no joy could have been found there, only pain and sorrow. The day Byakuya had bid his final goodbye to Hisana, something inside of him broke, splitting his very soul into two uneven parts. One had kept him alive, whilst the other had been used to store all the regret, pain, and self-destructive thoughts, then it was pushed deep down in a vain attempt to forget about his fragility, about the invisible scars that only he could spot engraved deep into his flesh.

This struggle lasted for a long while, but as Kuchiki had no means of verifying the passage of time, it could have been very well a moment, only unnecessarily spanned into eternity in his mind. Nonetheless, something about his surroundings changed as the shadows slowly receded, replaced with wooden panels and walls oddly familiar. As a result, some of his old wounds reopened, bleeding once more. It was but a moment when Byakuya realised that he regained control over his stiff body, displeased with the fact that he found himself standing amid Kuchiki's compound. Like every day, he fought off an urge to run away and never return to this accursed place.

The dark-haired nobleman pressed forward, taking advantage of the regained control. Part of him urged him to move, driven or perhaps led by some mysterious sensation. The feeling was challenging to describe, yet it gave him a purpose, a goal, a destination amid this apparent trickery masquerade. No matter the circumstances, all of this could not have been a result of coincidence. No … someone or something wanted him to explore or perhaps venture deeper into the estate to reach some imaginary line. The very idea of being led by this mysterious sensation troubled the man. It was only logical not to tread a path one knew nothing about. Yet, given the circumstances, Byakuya had little to no choice in what would happen next. What awaited him at the end of this path, he could only wonder.

Muffling a sigh, the 6th Division Captain quickened his pace, allowing this longing, for the lack of a better word to describe the feeling, to act akin to a personal compass, directing his moves as he passed across many long and empty corridors and halls he had never seen before. His very soul longed for something. The man could feel his heart occasionally skipping a beat as if incapable of containing its excitement. What was the reason behind this exhilaration? He could only ponder and speculate, but his instincts urged him to be cautious. In the air, something inexplicable hung, making his skin curl and sweat pearling upon his brow. It had been a while since he felt this kind of fear. Yet, despite anticipating this being a trap, he continued the stride, willingly stepping into the unknown.

After a while, Kuchiki found himself standing in a long yet narrow hall that he had no memories of. A slightly elevated platform could be spotted in the middle, supporting four pillars and two throne-like armchairs with their backs turned towards him. Even though their design was remarkable, alas controversial, he sensed someone or something hidden behind this thin layer of wood and fabric.

"You have finally arrived, little Byakuya."

It was a woman's voice that sounded like a whisper of Death itself—quiet, low, and terrifying. Although no threat had been made so far, an unpleasantly cold shiver ran down Kuchiki's spine, and he smelled the stench of fear.

"Who are you?" the dark-haired man forced himself to speak up. Fortunately, years of training allowed him to keep his voice the way he wanted – emotionless.

Author's notes section:

I have a small announcement for you. I will try my best to return to posting only the already completed pieces. Please be mindful that it will take longer, but you will not be left with many WIPs as I struggle to conclude them. That being said, I will post a small WIP and then a finished chapter for the next couple of weeks to adjust to the new workflow. I'm sorry in advance for any inconvenience.

As a side note, please be informed that I'm actively trying to rewrite `The Endless Night` story that I posted a few months ago. Once I have both chapters adjusted, I will repost them, most likely with one additional chapter as a bonus of sorts.

Please note that the dialogues written in italics are thoughts.

As always, I would like to thank you for everything. See you soon :)

Changelog:
[2024-04-06]: A preview has been released.

References:
- The Defiant - Trivium

End of the author's notes section.