Marvel: From the Void and Back Again, Part 3
Chapter 24: Unusual Incident in Seireitei?! Gotei 13 Invading Army Arc! With a twist!
…
Kagerōza Inaba's Perspective
The dim glow of artificial lighting hummed faintly in the depths of Soul Society's underground sector, an abandoned research facility long forgotten by the Seireitei. Dust gathered in the corners of the room, untouched by time, as shadowed figures moved in silence.
Kagerōza Inaba stood at the center of it all, his piercing gaze locked onto the flickering data screens in front of him. The tactical map of Soul Society pulsed with shifting markers, zones under constant surveillance by those wretched Grey-Sym symbiotes amongst other such abominations, their cursed minds interconnected, listening for disturbances in the flow of thought or just by existing in specified areas and ensuring that nothing could jeopardize the peace of those former hollows and arrancar.
His jaw clenched. He had worked in secrecy for decades, his Reigei Project a plan carefully nurtured in the dark. But that plan had been forged in a different era. Before Soul Society changed. Before it became something unrecognizable.
He scrolled through the feed, watching as patrols moved methodically through the expanded cityscape of Seireitei. There were too many factions now. Too many unknowns.
This was supposed to be a world of souls.
Now, it is overrun with outsiders, aliens, symbiotes, former Hollows pretending at humanity.
He clenched his fist, his teeth grinding together as he studied the seven key districts of Soul Society's newly integrated territories. At the heart of it, there were factions that should not exist.
The Arrancar Enclaves. Former enemies of the Shinigami, now welcomed like allies.
The Grey-Sym Symbiotes. Parasitic beings that had infested every level of security.
The Interdimensional Liaisons. Beings from worlds beyond comprehension, walking Seireitei's streets as if they belonged.
And then… there was Unit-001.
The Hollow-tainted Ichigo clone who had escaped Aizen's clutches and was now given sanctuary within Soul Society.
Kagerōza's lip curled in distaste. He had been monitoring Unit-001 for weeks now, watching how he adapted, mimicked, learned. The creature's bizarre heterochromatic eyes—one red, one blue, were haunting in their intensity. It was as if the creature was studying the world around him, collecting data in a way no normal being should.
And yet… the captains let him stay. Let him live.
He exhaled, forcing himself to remain calm.
He had spent too long ensuring his survival to let paranoia set in now.
Yet… paranoia had become his closest ally.
Every move he made had to be precise. Every whisper of thought had to be silent. The Grey-Sym network was a plague, their minds extended across Soul Society like a vast, interconnected hive, listening, feeling, sensing even the faintest disturbances in intent.
If he thought too loudly, they would hear him.
If he moved too recklessly, they would see him.
For sixty years, he had planned this. He had anticipated Seireitei's resistance, had built contingency after contingency. But he had not foreseen this unnatural evolution of Soul Society.
And now, it was making him desperate.
His 'original plan', to replace key figures with his perfected Reigei clones, had been a work of art. But that plan was no longer viable.
Soul Society had become too advanced, too interconnected. And more than that, the power of the new alliances meant his carefully positioned assets were under constant scrutiny.
He could not risk being caught.
Not yet.
His fingers tapped against the screen, his mind racing as he considered his options. His strategy had to change. His approach had to evolve.
First and foremost, Disrupt the Grey-Sym Network
If he couldn't move freely, then he would make sure no one else could either.
The Grey-Sym collective was Soul Society's greatest advantage, their shared intelligence, their ability to detect even the subtlest disturbance in spiritual flow.
But nothing was perfect.
Kagerōza had already begun testing small-scale disruptions in their network.
Tonight, he would escalate.
One of his agents, a nameless face buried deep within Soul Society's infrastructure—had planted a subharmonic pulse generator within the Seireitei's western districts.
If the calculations were correct, then within the next few hours, a rupture would ripple through the Grey-Sym's collective consciousness.
A small flicker at first. Then a growing disturbance.
Enough to make them question what was happening. Enough to make them doubt their own connection.
Not all within Soul Society welcomed these changes.
Next, there were Shinigami who despised the presence of the Arrancar even if they were few in number and quickly dwindling in recent days.
There were commanders who felt that the interdimensional influence weakened their traditions.
There were officers who distrusted the Grey-Sym's presence, who saw them as invasive parasites slowly consuming Seireitei's independence.
Kagerōza had already begun whispering to these individuals.
Carefully placed documents, false reports, and private correspondences had been leaked, nothing that pointed back to him, but just enough to spread unease.
Soul Society had been built upon hierarchy. It did not take much to turn that hierarchy against itself.
Then after all that is done.
Remove Key Threats from the Board.
Some obstacles were too dangerous to leave in play.
Peter-Knull. The cursed Void-Walker, who had single-handedly obliterated threats beyond comprehension.
The Arrancar leaders. Figures like Harilel who had gained influence among both Shinigami and Hollow factions.
Unit-001. The Ichigo clone whose very existence defied predictability.
Unit-001 worried him the most.
It wasn't just the creature's Hollow-infused body that made it dangerous.
It was the way it watched.
The way it absorbed information, learned at a speed beyond reason.
It reminds me too much of myself.
Kagerōza hated unknown variables and Unit-001 was an unknown that had to be eliminated.
Kagerōza Inaba's fingers hovered over the console as the notification pulsed, an urgent update from his operatives embedded within Soul Society's infrastructure.
His eyes narrowed. He had expected at least a temporary disruption, long enough to sow the first seeds of uncertainty. A moment of disorientation should have been enough to begin his real work.
But instead, his pulse quickened as he read the incoming report.
…
TRANSMISSION: STATUS – COMPROMISED
Grey-Sym neural disruption ineffective.
Subjects adapted in real time.
Device located. Extraction imminent.
SHIELDING REINFORCEMENTS DETECTED. PETER-KNULL EN ROUTE.
…
His stomach tightened.
Impossible.
He had spent months studying the intricacies of the Grey-Sym's network, carefully observing their responses to foreign interference. Their hive-mind shouldn't have been able to adapt this fast.
"It should have scrambled their connection just long enough-!?"
But they had reacted instantly.
Not only had they resisted the psychic pulse, but they had already isolated the source.
Damn them.
His grip on the edge of the terminal tightened as he exhaled slowly through his nose. He could already picture the scene:
The Grey-Sym operatives recovering from the disruption, momentarily startled but not hindered.
Their psychic connection surging stronger than before, synapses linking as they traced the anomaly back to its source.
"Peter-Knull", that cursed Void-Walker, already on the move, drawn to the disturbance like a predator catching the scent of blood in the air.
His plan had failed before it had even begun.
His mind raced, recalculating. The device would be found within the next few minutes. The Grey-Sym operatives would deliver it to the Captains, to the worst possible people who could examine it.
Peter-Knull wouldn't hesitate to tear apart the very foundation of Soul Society to uncover the source.
And if Peter-Knull turned his full attention toward this anomaly.
Then it would only be a matter of time before he found Kagerōza himself.
A bitter taste filled his mouth. He had underestimated them.
For sixty years, he had planned. Calculated. Moved in shadows where no one could see him.
And in a single night, the Grey-Sym had crushed his first move without even knowing who was behind it.
They are not an enemy that can be manipulated from afar.
They are not an enemy that can be controlled.
A shadow flickered on the screen, movement near the district where the device had been planted.
Peter-Knull had arrived.
The screen pulsed with a proximity alert, tracking Peter's presence as he stepped into the site of the disturbance. The dark tendrils of his symbiote flickered with a dangerous, restless energy, responding to whatever his hive-mind had sensed.
Kagerōza watched, his mind cold and calculating, as Peter slowly approached the now-exposed pulse device.
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
Peter reached down, placed his hand on the device.
And then looked up.
Directly at the surveillance node Kagerōza had hidden nearby.
A slow, dangerous grin spread across Peter-Knull's face.
…
ERROR: CONNECTION TERMINATED.
…
Kagerōza stepped back, his breath sharp as the screen cut to black.
Peter-Knull had seen him.
Not physically, but he had felt something.
This isn't just a failed experiment anymore. This is a warning.
Peter-Knull was now aware that someone was trying to undermine Soul Society from the inside.
And Peter-Knull was not the kind of entity who simply let things go.
Kagerōza exhaled, forcing himself to remain still, his mind shifting immediately to damage control.
The Grey-Sym would soon report the device's existence.
The captains would start investigating and Peter-Knull would be hunting for a ghost.
I have no choice now.
His hands moved quickly, erasing all traces of the pulse device's origins from his network. The operatives who had handled it were already being relocated, their memories scrubbed of any compromising information.
He had spent decades building safeguards, contingencies for exposures just like this.
And yet, despite all his precautions, a cold, foreign feeling crept into his gut.
Something he had not felt in years.
Fear.
Peter-Knull was coming.
…
Peter-Knull strode into the dimly lit chamber, the heavy wooden doors groaning behind him as they shut with a finality that sent an unspoken message to those present, this was not a casual meeting.
He set two objects onto the table in front of them with deliberate slowness. The first, a small, unassuming device with intricate circuitry, humming faintly with remnants of the psychic pulse that had been meant to scramble his Grey-Sym's collective connection. The second, a tiny surveillance camera, no bigger than a coin, its lens cracked where Peter had crushed it in his grip.
"You've got a problem," Peter said, his voice even but carrying that deep, abyssal weight that made even hardened warriors shift uncomfortably in their seats. "First, this little toy here", he tapped the pulse device with a finger, the dull metallic clink echoing in the chamber, "-was designed to temporarily sever the Grey-Sym's link to their hive-mind. A clever trick. If they had normal brain chemistry, it might have even worked. But they don't. All it did was give them a startle before they adapted and figured out where it came from."
He leaned forward slightly, his inky-black eyes sweeping across the room. "And this?" He flicked the camera forward, letting it roll slightly before it stopped near Captain Kyoraku's sleeve. "This was watching me when I found the device. I checked your security logs, combed through your database. This thing isn't in your system. Someone's been keeping tabs on me, and not through the usual channels."
Kyoraku picked up the camera, turning it over in his fingers, his normally laid-back expression darkening. "You're certain it's not ours?"
"I don't make mistakes when it comes to things watching me," Peter replied flatly, folding his arms. "Someone placed it in a way that suggests they weren't just monitoring the area. They were monitoring me specifically. And that means they knew I'd find the device."
Hitsugaya frowned, his sharp mind already racing through the implications. "If they were watching you, then they were also watching our response to the pulse device being found. That means this wasn't just a failed test run, it was a data-gathering mission."
"Exactly," Peter said, tilting his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "And I don't like being someone's experiment."
There was a long pause before Unohana spoke, her voice as calm as ever but laced with something colder. "If someone is planting unregistered surveillance devices within the Seireitei, it means they have deeper access than we anticipated. Have you checked for more?"
Peter's smirk was humorless. "That's what's been bothering me. If they placed one, they placed more. The only reason I found this one was because I was actively looking for irregularities. Which means it's likely there are others we haven't found yet. And whoever's behind this is careful. Careful enough that even your own systems didn't detect an unauthorized feed."
Silence settled over the room like a heavy fog. The implications were disturbing. Someone, whether from within the Seireitei or an external force, was collecting information, and now that their first device had been uncovered, it was impossible to know how much they had already seen.
Kyoraku sighed, rubbing his temple. "This complicates things."
Peter chuckled darkly. "Oh, it does more than that. This means we're not just dealing with someone planting traps, we're dealing with someone who's watching how we react to those traps. They're testing us, learning from us." He leaned back, his expression unreadable, but his voice carried a dangerous weight. "Now the real question is—what are they waiting for?"
…
Deep within the sterile, fluorescent-lit depths of Squad 12's Research and Development Division, Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi hunched over his workstation, golden irises gleaming with unsettling curiosity. His long, claw-like fingers delicately manipulated the exposed circuitry of the mysterious camera Peter-Knull had uncovered. The device lay before him, its outer casing meticulously stripped away, revealing the complex inner mechanisms that had evaded Seireitei's security records.
The problem was… it shouldn't have.
The screen beside him flickered, displaying real-time scans of the components, nanoscopic filaments, internal wiring laced with microscopic recording nodes, a fusion of Seireitei's most advanced surveillance technology… and something else entirely.
He had expected some level of outside tampering, perhaps a foreign faction's interference, but the results staring back at him were far more unsettling.
"Source of origin… confirmed."
"Primary components fabricated within Squad 12's internal manufacturing sectors."
Mayuri's grin widened, teeth flashing in the dim light. "Ohhh, how wonderfully vexing." His voice slithered between amusement and irritation, his fingers tapping against the table as his thoughts raced.
This camera, which had somehow escaped his own records, had not been brought in from an external force, no.
It was born here.
Inside his own division.
That meant one of two things. Either he had personally authorized this camera and simply forgotten, which was, of course, impossible-.
Or someone within his own ranks had the gall to develop and deploy this device outside of his watchful gaze.
That, he could not abide.
Mayuri's fingers twitched toward the intercom, his mouth already forming the first syllable of his command. "Nemu-…"
He stopped mid-sentence, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as his mind caught up with his instincts.
Nemu wasn't here.
His fingers tapped against the workstation, irritation bubbling beneath his skin. Of course.
She was on her honeymoon.
With him.
Lupin.
The very thought made Mayuri's lips curl, not in amusement, but in something between mild disgust and begrudging acknowledgment. He had allowed it, hadn't he? Had personally overseen Nemu's development, watched her grow, granted her the ability to form independent thought, emotions, attachments. And this was where it had led, to her marrying that feral werewolf upstart, Logan's son.
Mayuri let out a slow breath through his nose, dismissing the momentary lapse in memory as an irrelevant distraction. It wasn't as though Nemu's absence made him any less efficient.
With a flick of his wrist, he activated the intercom again, his tone sharp and cutting.
"Assistant No. 3, report to my lab. Now."
A brief pause, then a voice crackled through the speakers. "Y-yes, Captain Mayuri! Right away!"
Mayuri leaned back, his grin returning as he looked down at the disassembled camera. No matter. Nemu's absence was a mild inconvenience at best.
This mystery, however?
This was fascinating.
…
Mayuri's fingers danced across the interface of his workstation, rerunning the scan logs in real-time. His golden irises flickered with heightened amusement, but just as he was about to lose himself in the analysis, a small, flitting movement caught his eye.
Ashisogi Jizō.
The former manifestation of his Zanpakutō spirit floated a short distance from the lab's ceiling, its tiny butterfly-like wings fluttering erratically. Normally, the little creature only emerged when something piqued its bizarre sense of curiosity. But this time, Mayuri noticed something… off.
Ashisogi Jizō wasn't hovering idly.
It was watching.
Its wide, unsettling eyes fixated on several of the nearby assistants moving about the lab. Mayuri tracked its line of sight, his gaze sweeping over the figures in question.
The assistants, standard division members, clad in the signature Squad 12 uniform, were behaving normally. Too normally. They worked with mechanical efficiency, handling equipment, moving between stations with the kind of precise, rhythmic movements he had always demanded from his subordinates. But something about the way Ashisogi Jizō twitched, its wings stuttering and folding inward like an insect sensing danger, made his grin slowly fade.
That was when he heard the whisper.
Mayuri barely had time to turn before a Grey-Sym operative approached him, its slick form shifting as it leaned in closer. The quiet, almost imperceptible voice rasped against his ear.
"Some of them… feel too manufactured."
Mayuri's eyes flickered toward the data pad the symbiote handed him. He examined the readouts in silence, his fingers scrolling through energy signatures, cellular compositions, spiritual structures. At first glance, nothing was wrong.
But as he looked closer, as he studied the minuscule discrepancies in reiatsu flow, in biological consistency…
His amusement deepened.
There was a pattern.
Several of his assistants, ones who had been working in the lab for years, their records intact, their work impeccable, had reiatsu compositions that were slightly off.
Subtle differences. Not enough to trigger standard security scans. Not enough to raise immediate suspicion.
But enough for Peter-Knull's Grey-Sym to sense something unnatural.
Enough for Ashisogi Jizō to notice something wrong.
The small spirit let out a strange, warbling chirp, its wings jittering as it turned its wide, unblinking eyes toward Mayuri.
He tilted his head, an eerie smile creeping across his face. Oh, Kagerōza… you think you're clever, don't you?
Mayuri chuckled under his breath.
He turned his head just slightly, just enough to glance at one of the assistants in question. The man was at his station, moving with perfect, pre-programmed efficiency.
Mayuri's fingers flexed against the data pad as his grin widened.
"How very interesting…"
Peter-Knull walked through the streets of Seireitei, his boots clicking softly against the stone.
Something was off.
The Void Layer rippled in his mind, small fluctuations brushing against his awareness like distant whispers. He had felt this sensation before, the subtle disturbance that came with something being displaced, something artificial sitting where it didn't belong.
He had seen this before, in corrupted realms, in fractured dimensions where things weren't what they seemed.
And now he was feeling it here.
He subtly scanned the crowd. Shinigami moved through the streets, conversing, patrolling, performing their usual duties. At a glance, everything was normal.
But he knew better.
Several individuals, random officers, lower-ranked soldiers, even a few stationed at key locations, felt wrong.
Not in the way that Hollows felt wrong. Not in the way that corrupted souls pulsed with malevolence.
They felt like echoes of themselves. Like something had copied them.
His fingers twitched as his gaze locked onto one figure in the distance, a Shinigami standing at the entrance to a supply depot.
The man was talking, engaging in conversation with another officer, his facial expressions natural. But the Void rippled around him in a way Peter-Knull had only ever felt around something that did not belong.
His eyes narrowed.
Mayuri was noticing it too, wasn't he?
Peter chuckled under his breath.
Oh, so this is how that guy who planted that camera is playing his game.
His fingers curled, his symbiote reacting to his amusement.
Fine. Let's start pulling the strings and see who falls apart first.
…
The warm glow of the Senkaimon shimmered behind Rangiku and Nanao as they stepped back into the heart of Soul Society, the fresh scent of Seireitei's cherry blossoms mixing with the lingering traces of incense from the shrines they had just finished calibrating. The two women walked side by side, their haoris swaying slightly as they made their way through the familiar streets.
Rangiku stretched her arms above her head, letting out a long, satisfied sigh. "Ahh, I love the World of the Living, but it's good to be back. Nothing beats the comfort of home… and a stiff drink after a long day."
Nanao adjusted her glasses, shaking her head at the predictability of Rangiku's statement. "You say that, but you did seem particularly eager to return today. I take it you've heard the news?"
Rangiku practically beamed. "Ohhh, you mean Nemu? Of course I have! I got the official notice last night. Pups! Can you believe it? Pups!" Her voice practically bubbled with excitement. "She and Lupin just got back from their honeymoon, and now she's already expecting! I knew he was wild, but wow, that was fast!"
Nanao gave her a knowing look. "She is a werewolf now. It makes sense that things would progress quickly."
"Still! Just thinking about Nemu as a mom is so cute!" Rangiku clasped her hands together dramatically. "I mean, she's already a genius, she's crazy strong, and now she's going to have little werewolf babies running around? I have to see this. I bet Lupin is so happy he's howling at the moon every night."
Nanao gave a small smile. "From what I heard, the entire Wolverine family is gathering for a celebration. Logan, Laura, Daken, Gabby—all of them. It's rare to see that group in one place unless there's a fight involved." She tilted her head slightly, adjusting her glasses. "Though, in a way, this is a fight of sorts. A fight to see who spoils the pups the most."
Rangiku laughed. "I bet Gabby wins that one. She's practically a pup herself." She placed her hands behind her head, sighing wistfully. "It's honestly kind of nice, you know? Seeing them all come together for something happy instead of, well, slashing something apart."
Nanao nodded, a soft expression crossing her face. "Yes. It's rare for their kind to have peace like this. They deserve it."
There was a brief silence between them as they continued walking, the tranquility of Soul Society wrapping around them. Then, Nanao gave Rangiku a sidelong glance. "Speaking of romance…" She adjusted her glasses with a suspiciously casual air. "Gin has been rather… diligent in tending to the barracks gardens lately."
Rangiku's confident stride hitched slightly, and a faint blush crept up her cheeks. "Huh? W-What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, just a little too quickly.
Nanao smirked, clearly enjoying this. "Tōsen has been assisting him, now that he can see again. Apparently, Peter-Knull's influence restored his vision. And yet, Gin is the one spending an inordinate amount of time pruning the bushes. Very thoroughly, from what I've observed."
Rangiku's blush deepened as she looked away. "So what? Maybe he just… likes gardening now."
Nanao chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure that's exactly why he's been out there every day, conveniently when you pass by."
Rangiku groaned, covering her face. "Ugh! You're worse than Kyoraku! What is it with you people? Gin and I just…" She sighed. "We understand each other. It's… complicated."
Nanao's expression softened. "It doesn't have to be."
Rangiku let out another sigh, but this one was quieter. She knew Nanao had a point, even if she wasn't ready to admit it. "Yeah, well, I don't see you talking about any romance of your own."
Nanao's smirk returned, but this time with a slight warmth behind it. "Who says I haven't been?"
Rangiku's eyes widened. "Wait. What? Who?!" She suddenly grabbed Nanao's shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Nanao-chan! You can't just drop something like that and not tell me everything!"
Nanao adjusted her glasses again, her cheeks ever so slightly pink. "Let's just say… someone who also appreciates well-kept gardens."
Rangiku gasped dramatically. "It's someone who knows Gin, isn't it?!"
Nanao scoffed, shoving her off. "Don't be ridiculous."
Rangiku laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, I'll get the details out of you eventually." She shot her a teasing look. "But don't think I didn't notice how you turned this back on me. You're blushing too!"
Nanao sighed but didn't deny it. "Let's just get to the barracks before you start planning my wedding."
Rangiku grinned. "Too late. I already have color schemes in mind."
As Rangiku and Nanao continued their conversation, their leisurely stroll through Seireitei was interrupted by the approach of three familiar figures. Captain Hitsugaya, ever composed but with a slight raised eyebrow, walked at the front, flanked by Captain Kyoraku, who, as always, carried himself with an air of casual amusement despite the weight of his words. Walking slightly behind them, a much more animated figure jogged to catch up, Dordoni Alessandro Del Socaccio, the flamboyant former Espada who had since pledged himself to Soul Society's forces.
Rangiku was mid-sentence about how she was definitely going to pester Nanao for more details later when she noticed it.
The moment Dordoni's gaze landed on Nanao, something changed. A faint blush dusted his cheeks, his confident posture faltering just slightly. And to Rangiku's absolute shock, Nanao, calm, composed, no-nonsense Nanao, had a similar reaction.
A subtle, but very real blush.
Rangiku had to physically stop herself from gawking. Wait, wait, wait, Nanao was talking about… HIM?!
She had been expecting… well, anyone but Dordoni! The dramatic, larger-than-life, constantly posing and calling people "chiquita" Dordoni! And yet, the way they locked eyes, that brief but undeniable spark between them, was unmistakable.
Kami above, this is GOLD.
Rangiku barely managed to keep her expression neutral, but oh, this was not over.
Before she could even begin to make a comment, Hitsugaya cleared his throat, dragging the group's attention back to reality. "Glad we ran into you two," he said, his tone clipped but serious. "There's been a development. Something you should both be aware of."
Rangiku and Nanao exchanged a quick glance before nodding. "Go on," Nanao said.
Kyoraku adjusted his hat, his usual laid-back demeanor intact, but there was a sharpness in his gaze. "Someone's been planting surveillance devices throughout Seireitei," he said. "Cameras. Small enough to avoid detection, but not small enough to avoid Peter-Knull's attention."
"Peter already found one near his location," Hitsugaya added. "And Mayuri's been dissecting one as we speak. What's troubling is the source of the components."
Nanao's brows furrowed slightly. "Let me guess. It's not from outside Seireitei."
Kyoraku nodded. "Bingo. Squad 12's own tech, but off the books. That means someone, within our own walls, is watching us. Watching Peter-Knull."
Rangiku's previous amusement faded entirely. "So we have an infiltrator."
"More than one," Hitsugaya muttered. "This isn't just spying. Earlier today, someone attempted to infiltrate our barracks."
Both Nanao and Rangiku stiffened.
Kyoraku sighed, folding his arms. "Here's the fun part. They didn't just try sneaking in. They looked and sounded exactly like you two."
Rangiku felt a chill crawl down her spine. "What?" she breathed.
Dordoni frowned, his usual energy momentarily subdued. "It was eerily accurate, chiquita. Voice, mannerisms, everything. It would have fooled almost anyone… if it weren't for a few tiny flaws."
Hitsugaya crossed his arms. "The reiatsu wasn't a perfect match. Just slightly off. Enough for someone like me to notice. And the Grey-Sym patrols confirmed it. These weren't just illusions or mind control." His gaze hardened. "They were fabricated."
Nanao, ever composed, exhaled slowly. "Giegei." It wasn't a question.
Hitsugaya nodded grimly. "Looks like someone's been making copies of us. And they're getting better."
Rangiku felt a cold anger begin to simmer beneath her shock. Someone was trying to replace them.
She looked at Nanao, whose hands had tightened into small fists at her sides. No words needed to be exchanged.
Whoever was behind this?
They were going to find out.
And when they did?
There'd be hell to pay
…
The day had barely passed its halfway mark, but Coyote Starrk was already prepared to call it a long one. He lounged on the roof of their barracks, arms folded behind his head, his usual half-lidded stare fixed on the distant clouds. Lilynette Gingerbuck, on the other hand, was full of restless energy, pacing beside him with an irritated scowl.
"Did you hear about the copies?" Lilynette asked, kicking a stray pebble off the roof.
Starrk sighed. "Yeah, I heard."
Lilynette crossed her arms. "Ggio Vega, Abirama Redder, and Choe Neng Poww ran into some of them earlier. Said there were fake Shinigami running around Seireitei 2 and Seireitei 5 trying to stir up trouble. And get this, they actually thought they were the real Shinigami."
Starrk's brows furrowed slightly. "They didn't even know they were copies?"
"Nope. Thought they were the actual Renji and Ikkaku until, well… the real Renji and Ikkaku showed up." Lilynette huffed. "Talk about a mess."
Starrk yawned, stretching his arms out. "Well… no need to get too hung up on it."
Lilynette shot him an incredulous look. "Seriously? You're not even a little freaked out? Someone's making clones of people, and they don't even know they're fakes. What if one of them looks like us?"
Starrk cracked one eye open, smirking slightly. "If they make a copy of me, maybe they'll handle my duties for me."
Lilynette groaned. "Ugh! That's not the point!"
Starrk's smirk faded slightly as he thought about it more. Someone was trying to infiltrate Soul Society by replacing its people. And they were getting better at it.
"Alright, alright," he finally said. "I'll keep an eye out. But let's be real here, who's actually gonna fool me?"
Lilynette grinned. "Damn right. If they try to replace you, I'll be able to tell the difference instantly."
…
In the heart of Seireitei's entertainment district, the air was filled with the sound of laughter, music, and the occasional clinking of glasses. The Symbiote Rockers had taken over their usual corner of their favorite bar-restaurant, a cozy, dimly lit place where former Arrancar, Shinigami, and the occasional symbiote or hero on a business trip, gathered after long shifts.
Inferno-Strike, with his flaming symbiote mohawk and jagged leather jacket—leaned against the counter, idly strumming his guitar-like weapon on his lap. Shock-Riff, Thunder-Pulse, and Siren-Vox were already nursing their drinks, deep in conversation.
Sitting a little too close to Inferno-Strike was Cirucci Sanderwicci, giggling behind her hand as she absentmindedly twirled her drink between her fingers.
Kaelzar and Nylvara, two of the Arrancar who had joined Squad 3, stood near the bar counter, waiting for a takeout order for their squadmates. Across the room, Calyxtra had arrived for a solo lunch, seated at a table with an elegantly poised stance, her violet eyes sweeping over the scene.
The massive influx of souls into Soul Society had transformed places like this. The former Arrancar were thriving, and even Hollows-turned-Souls had found a place here.
Cirucci let out another soft giggle as Inferno-Strike brushed his gloved fingers against her hand.
The moment did not go unnoticed.
Kaelzar raised an eyebrow. Nylvara smirked knowingly. Calyxtra merely took a sip of her drink, watching with mild amusement.
Inferno-Strike grinned at Cirucci, fangs flashing. "Something funny, Chiquita?"
Cirucci smirked. "Nothing. Just… enjoying myself."
Shock-Riff, ever the quiet observer, finally spoke. "So, you two…?"
Cirucci stretched lazily, then casually looped her arm around Inferno-Strike's, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Yeah. We've decided to get together."
Kaelzar let out a deep chuckle. "Well, that's unexpected."
Nylvara grinned. "I knew it. The chemistry was obvious."
Inferno-Strike just smirked, pulling Cirucci a little closer. "Guess we're full of surprises."
The group exchanged knowing looks, but before they could tease them further, the bar doors swung open.
A messenger from Squad 12 strode inside, scanning the crowd before locking eyes on Kaelzar and Nylvara. "Message from Captain Kurotsuchi," he said. "He wants every available officer on alert. The fake Shinigami are getting bolder."
Calyxtra's eyes darkened slightly. "More Giegei?"
The messenger nodded. "And this time, they almost got into a Grey-Sym patrol's secured zone."
Inferno-Strike exhaled, cracking his knuckles. "Looks like we might have to turn this into a search-and-destroy operation."
Cirucci grinned. "Good. I was getting bored."
Kaelzar exchanged a look with Nylvara before turning back to the messenger. "Tell Captain Kurotsuchi we'll keep our eyes open. If any fakes try to get past us, we'll make sure they don't."
The messenger nodded and hurried out.
The atmosphere in the bar shifted subtly. The casual camaraderie was still there, but now there was an edge to it.
Soul Society was growing, thriving.
But something was trying to infiltrate it from within.
And if the Symbiote Rockers, Arrancar, and Grey-Sym had anything to say about it, whoever was behind this was going to regret it.
On the other side of the multiversal barrier, Nemu Kurotsuchi stepped through the dimensional gate, hand-in-hand with Lupin.
Her expression was calm, measured, but there was something new in her eyes. Something warm.
Behind her, Logan, Laura, Daken, and the rest of the Wolverine family were already preparing a celebration.
Because this wasn't just a welcome home party.
Nemu was expecting.
And the Wolverines were about to have new family members.
…
Earth-616 – The Baby Shower at Avengers Tower
Avengers Tower was alive with celebration, a rare moment of peace and joy shared among allies, friends, and family. The main lounge had been decorated with an unusual mix of X-Men blue and Wolverine gold, along with subtle traces of Mayuri Kurotsuchi's precise organization, which Nemu had inevitably influenced despite the nature of the event.
There was food everywhere, not just the usual catered spread, but a mix of traditional feasts prepared for an event celebrating a werewolf mother's first pregnancy. And at the center of the towering display of food?
A large tray of deer jerky.
Silas Boone, the grizzled old lawman who had been brought back to life by an occult incident over a year ago, set the platter down with a knowing grin. "Figured you'd need something proper," he said, tipping his old hat to Nemu. "Something with a real bite to it."
Nemu, having been curious about the jerky since he arrived, finally took a piece.
She bit into it.
Her purple werewolf eyes widened slightly, pupils dilating.
"...This is perfect."
Silas chuckled. "Thought so."
Lupin, standing beside his wife, grinned. "Told you, babe. Man knows his meat."
Gabriella, sitting nearby with her three cubs tumbling over each other at her feet, let out an amused sigh. "Careful, Nemu. First it's the jerky. Then it's hunting your own deer in the wild."
Wild-Claw, her mate, let out a low, pleased growl as he ruffled their children's fur. "It's the way of things."
Meanwhile, Beast-Shade sat with Tigra and their two toddler children, Nyx and Zephyr, who were already making fast friends with the cubs. Across the room, Gwen Stacy and her friend Lumina watched the little ones play, smiling as they observed the chaotic fun.
Wild-Scale, his semi-lizard-like features and symbiotic tendrils giving him a uniquely sharp look, leaned against the bar, watching the event unfold with a rare relaxed stance. "Not gonna lie, this is nice," he admitted, glancing at Lupin. "I don't usually get to kick back at these things."
Lupin chuckled, his own shaggy hair a perfect blend of human and werewolf traits. "Enjoy it while it lasts, brother. Once the pups are here, rest is a luxury."
Gwen turned to Lumina, smirking. "Think you'll
get a moment like this?"
Lumina, the ethereal, moth-like symbiote healer, hummed softly. "Maybe. I enjoy seeing them all together, though. This is what balance looks like."
As the night carried on, the laughter grew louder, the drinks flowed freely, and the stories of old battles, new families, and future legacies filled the air.
Even Logan, gruff as ever, found himself caught in the warmth of it all.
This wasn't just a baby shower.
This was a pack coming together, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
Logan sat back in his chair, nursing a drink as the baby shower carried on around him. The laughter, the noise, the warmth, it wasn't something he was used to, but for once, he didn't mind. His family was here. His pack was growing. And now, he was going to be a grandfather again.
The moment came when the gift-giving started, and Lupin and Nemu stood at the front, ready to receive whatever their gathered family and friends had prepared. Logan exhaled through his nose, setting his drink aside. He wasn't one for long speeches, and everyone in the room knew it.
Still, when he stood, the chatter quieted just a little. They all respected him, and he supposed he had a few things to say.
He approached Nemu and Lupin, his usual gruff expression softening just slightly. From behind his chair, he grabbed a hand-wrapped bundle, setting it down gently on the table in front of them.
"Figured you'd need somethin' special for the little ones," Logan said, scratching at his beard. "Didn't wanna just buy somethin' off the shelf, so…" He glanced back over his shoulder at Laura, Daken, and Gabriella, who all smirked knowingly. "We made these ourselves."
Nemu tilted her head curiously as she untied the bundle, carefully unwrapping the fabric. Her golden eyes widened slightly as she pulled out tiny, hand-knitted baby clothes—soft, durable, and made with care.
Small but sturdy little garments, reinforced to handle the strength of a werewolf child, carefully stitched by the hands of Logan, Laura, Daken, and Gabriella. There were tiny jackets lined with fur, mittens with reinforced stitching, and little onesies designed for pups who might inherit their father's shifting abilities.
Lupin picked one up, turning it over in his hands. "You made these?"
Logan snorted. "Laura and Gabby did most of the fancy stitchin'. Daken complained the whole time, but he still helped. Me?" He shrugged. "Made sure they'd hold up if the pups decide to chew through 'em."
Nemu, who had been running her hands over the fabric, looking at the stitches with a scientist's precision, finally looked up at him with something softer in her usually analytical gaze. "This is… remarkable."
Logan huffed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ain't much, but it's from us. Pups deserve somethin' from the family, and you're part of it now."
Nemu nodded, a quiet acknowledgment of something deeper.
Lupin, meanwhile, grinned as he clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Thanks dad, we'll make sure they wear them."
Logan grunted. "Don't push it, kid."
But there was no mistaking it. This was his way of welcoming Nemu and the pups into the pack.
…
The dimly lit chamber reeked of desperation. Kagerōza Inaba sat rigid, his fingers twitching against the surface of the cold, metal table before him. This was not how things were supposed to go. His carefully laid plans were unraveling faster than he could salvage them, and every instinct he had screamed that Soul Society was closing in on him.
They weren't supposed to catch on so quickly. Not this soon.
The paranoia had begun eating away at his sanity, whispers in the dark, shadows moving where they shouldn't, the unbearable sense that he was being watched. Every step he took felt monitored, as if Peter-Knull himself could see through the cracks in reality and was waiting for him to make a mistake.
He couldn't do this alone.
That's why he was here.
Before him, standing in the dim blue glow of projected schematics and genetic data, were two men identical in face, yet vastly different in demeanor.
Nathaniel Essex.
Or rather, Sinister.
And his other counterpart from a parallel reality, another Sinister, who bore a more twisted, deranged smirk as he leaned lazily against the table.
Behind them, two Sabretooths stood like silent predators, one from an Earth where Logan had gone on a self-imposed mutant purge, the same reality where Spider-Man got together with Laura shortly afterwords, and the other was from a reality where Emma frost never joined Krakoa since she chose Peter Parker over the supposed immortality.
The dimly lit chamber reeked of sterilized metal, synthetic musk, and the lingering presence of paranoia.
Kagerōza Inaba paced, his mind racing with calculations, contingencies, and worst of all—failures. His meticulous plan, sixty years in the making, had been compromised. The Soul Reapers were onto him. The Grey-Sym symbiotes had adapted faster than expected. And now, with Peter-Knull hunting, he could feel the noose tightening around his neck.
"This is unacceptable…" he muttered, running a gloved hand over his temple. His fingers trembled slightly, something that hadn't happened in decades. "Everything was accounted for… so where, where did it go wrong?"
He already knew the answer.
Soul Society had changed too much.
The former Hollows, the Grey-Sym, the Arrancar, even interdimensional figures like Peter-Knull and his allies, they had turned the once-isolated realm into a multiversal power.
And that meant he needed help.
Which is why he was here.
Across the chamber, two identical smirks gleamed in the dim red light, Sinister and… Sinister.
One version of Nathaniel Essex stood with his usual theatrical posture, clad in his sleek red and black armor, fingers steepled in front of him. The other version, a bit more refined, had a coat trimmed with blue fur, his expression more reserved, calculating.
The two Sabretooths, both snarling versions of Victor Creed, leaned against the far wall. One, from a reality where Spider-Man had gotten together with Laura Kinney, cracked his knuckles absently. His juggernaut-sized counterpart, the Cain Marko of that same universe, stood beside him, arms crossed over his barrel chest.
The second Sabretooth, from a world where Peter Parker had been with Emma Frost, let out a low, guttural chuckle. "Y'know, I don't normally play the long game, but I gotta admit, framin' these guys? That's gonna be fun."
Kagerōza exhaled slowly, trying to still his rising anxiety. "This has to be done precisely. If any of them catch wind of what's happening, this operation collapses before it begins." He turned toward the Sinisters. "In exchange for genetic material and a supply of my finest Giegei constructs, I expect results."
"Ohhh, you wound me, dear boy," the first Sinister purred, placing a hand to his chest in mock offense. "You make it sound like I'm not already ten steps ahead."
The other Sinister, from the Emma Frost variant world, smirked. "He does have a point. We'll have to work quickly. If those versions of Parker and their little partners are anything like their multiversal counterparts, they'll be onto us soon enough."
Kagerōza narrowed his eyes. "Are they?"
The first Sinister waved a hand. "Pfft, they're occupied. Emma Frost has kept herself and her Parker away from Krakoa, when it was still standing that is, something I'd call a rare moment of brilliance on her part. And Laura? Well…" He glanced toward the hulking Juggernaut in the room. "You saw what happened when Logan went feral in that world. Spider-boy and Laura was too busy cleaning up that mess to ever trust Krakoa."
"The idea of Krakoa invited arrogance and a dictatorship… "They ain't got the guts to keep their enemies in check. Now they're soft, sittin' around playin' nation while thinkin' they can outlive their problems."
"Which is exactly why their remnants in those worlds are so easy to manipulate, there's a lot of mutants who want payback for Peter-Knull exposing what they really were." The first Sinister cooed, tapping his chin. "They just need the right reason to declare war. And if Peter-Knull and his precious 'Soul Society' suddenly became a galactic-level threat?" He chuckled. "Well, mutants do so love a good fight."
Kagerōza wasn't smiling. "Just make sure the frame-ups are flawless. I don't need this operation backfiring."
The other Sinister waved a data pad in his hand. "Relax, darling. We have the perfect blueprint. Small-scale disasters, perfectly coordinated across realities, all pointing back to our dear little 'heroes.'"
Kagerōza crossed his arms, tension still coiled in his frame. "Then we move forward. With enough pressure, we force the mutants hands. make them think Soul Society is a threat to mutant survival. Then, we strike."
A cold silence settled in the room for a moment, the weight of their plotting sinking in.
Then the first Sinister's grin widened. "Ah, but before we proceed, there's one… final detail to consider."
Kagerōza frowned. "What detail?"
Sinister turned toward the wall, activating a holographic projection. It displayed an intricate alchemical formula, symbols twisting and shifting into something ancient, something dark.
At the center of the equation was a single, irreplaceable component, a rare ingredient.
A vial of blood.
Sinister's smile was positively wicked. "We need something… special, it came directly from our dear friend Aizen and Shaman-Knull, a component needed in the ritual they are going to perform to bind Peter-Knull to the hells of the neighboring reality. The blood of someone with a healing factor rivaling Wolverine's, but more than that, someone who has stood at the crossroads of vengeance and chosen mercy instead and in doing so, proved himself pure and baring the qualities of redemption."
He gestured lazily at the projection. "And wouldn't you know it? One perfect candidate exists."
The second Sinister smirked.
The Sabretooths both chuckled.
Kagerōza's stomach sank. "…Who?"
The holographic projection changed, revealing a single name.
Lupin.
Logan's son.
A natural empath with empath abilities even in his werewolf form. A man who had every right to hate Logan for the sins of Weapon X, and what happened to his mother by his father's hands, yet had chosen to forgive him.
Sinister grinned.
"Oh, Kagerōza, my dear boy… this is going to be fun."