Chapter 39: Sword and Soul: Part 2
It was no longer possible to tell just how much blood was going to be spilled today.
Past grudges, current animosities, it all led to a single conclusion.
War.
"For the Vasto of White!"
"For the Seireitei!"
A cacophony of noises that deafened the entire area came from the lungs of thousands.
The air was fraught with tension, Yamamoto's brows creasing as more and more Arrancar appeared before him in vast quantities. They stood uniformly, forming squadrons that rallied behind central figures that Yamamoto would later understand to be called Espada. The left and right flanks were led by two women who stood prominently at the front, Nel on the right, Harribel on the left. At the center stood Baraggan and the others.
The organization was almost identical to the formations the Shinigami had set up with their Captains each leading their individual divisions. Yamamoto was quick to pick up on this arrangement and promptly shifted his gaze to the location identical to his own, the Head-Commander's.
An unmistakable shiver traveled down his back.
It was in that moment that Yamamoto stilled, countenance growing increasingly grim as astonishment appeared in his eyes. The grip he had over Ryujin Jakka tightened so much that the skin of his knuckles whitened.
We meet again.
A hollow of the past.
An enemy even he had not been able to kill.
Human in appearance and wearing a strikingly red mantle, it was the same bronze-coloured eyes that reflected compassion. The very one's that didn't hesitate to save a fellow hollow despite risking danger.
Memories that Yamamoto would rather have had left forgotten surfaced one by one: The inability of his attacks to phase the other party, and the means the other party had utilized against him before.
It dealt far more of a blow to his confidence than he was willing to admit. More so with a single fact.
The identity of the Vasto of White.
It was him, that walking monstrosity of a hollow.
"Head-Captain?" Unohana spoke up from beside him.
He shook his head, maintaining a neutral expression. He was the banner that supported the entirety of the Court-Guard-Squads, he would not waver for his was the will of the Seireitei.
"Ready your formations!" Yamamoto shouted, his voice carrying to the legions of black behind him. "Ready your blades, your wit, and your courage!"
For once in Yamamoto's career as Head-Captain, he did not adopt a passive stance. He simply could not afford to. His hands grasped onto the Haori on his shoulders and discarded it in the wind, the symbol of the First Division billowing in the air.
The will of the first 'Genryu,' Founder of the Court Guard Squads.
"The enemy stands before us!" Yamamoto's shout was resolute, unwavering despite knowing the strength of his adversaries.
A path and foundation that had been forged in violence and blood.
"Fight for Duty! for your Honour! And for the Balance of the Realms!" A decisiveness flashed across Yamamoto's eyes. "We are the Seireitei!"
The Shinigami fell oddly silent, the grips on their swords tightening as determination exuded from them in invisible waves. Toshiro had never seen the Head-Captain speak so gravely before let alone Shunsui and the others. It clearly spoke of the gravity of the situation, but they would not falter.
"I have only one order," Yamamoto tapped his cane, the wood surrounding it vanishing into embers to reveal the sword beneath. "Aizen and the former Captains are fine, but no one is to engage the Vasto of White. None of you truly understand what that individual is capable of."
Yamamoto's words carried with them an unease that was impossible to hide, drawing whispers from the ranks of Shinigami.
Unohana took a moment to stare at Yamamoto before leaning in closer and whispering.
"Head-Captain, was it that hollow?" Unohana's brows furrowed in consternation. "The one concerning your decision in the past?"
Yamamoto didn't answer, his silence was enough.
Years prior in the midst of the war between the Quincy, Yamamoto had decreed a command to all Shinigami active in the Human World to no longer hunt down any hollows. Even groups weren't permitted to act without clearance, leading to mass confusion as killing hollows was a natural doctrine promoted within the Academy.
Yamamoto himself had never explained the reason, but Unohana had a vague understanding as she been there when Yamamoto had decided to personally deal with the Lone Vasto Lorde of the past.
Mouth curving downwards, Unohana returned to the rear of the formations. She was the Captain of the Fourth Division, the Healing Unit. Unless pressed into action, she could not afford to expose herself or her fellow squad members to danger. It was their duty to keep those fighting alive.
It was with this consideration that Unohana had wordlessly left the front lines, giving Yamamoto a single deep glance as the man procured an emblem from his garments.
Plain in appearance and made of dark oak and carved engravings, Yamamoto peered at the emblem with a weary expression; his eyes focusing on the symbol of the Winter Daphne etched within the rhombus shape of the emblem.
The Protectors of the King, each surpassing the power of all Thirteen Divisions together.
The grip Yamamoto had over the emblem tightened, but he had no other alternatives. He needed their strength, for the speculation he had made in the past held true in his mind. The only equals who could possibly stand a chance against a hollow with the ability to create an entirely new world could only be them. Beings acknowledged by the Soul King and imbued with his power.
The Royal Guard, members of the Zero Division.
The emblem shattered in Yamamoto's hands, crushed into pieces within his grip and transmitting a direct message to the Kingdom beyond the seventy-two barriers.
An emergency plea not for the sake of the Seireitei, but for the safety of the Soul King's Dimension that the Royal Guard would not be able to ignore.
Until then, the Seireitei would perform its duties and fight till the death.
Shirou's brows furrowed, a sense of unease manifesting from within him despite the confidence he had in his strength. Something was wrong, but he had no time to consider anything.
Yamamoto was making his move and the man would not listen to reason.
Shirou had fought him in the past, and the man of back then was both few in words and obstinate in perspective.
All Hollows were evil and had to be killed with no common ground to be had.
There was no changing Yamamoto's mindset for it was the common mindset of all Shinigami, and it infuriated Shirou just thinking about it.
It was true that Hollows were discarnate souls unable to find peace and transformed by their lingering emotions, but they too were souls. They could talk, touch, and feel like any other individual.
Coyote's visage appeared in his mind and the bitterness of it all caused his countenance to shift.
All she had wanted was to not be alone, for a simple life free of solitude such that howling together at the moon was perhaps her fondest and cherished memory.
Yet because of the Shinigami and Quincy's constant attacks in the human world, Shirou was forced to sacrifice himself, the only family Coyote recognized as her own for Coyote's own safety. And in the end, what had happened?
Shirou didn't even know if she was dead or not, the only clues he had were related to Starrk and Lilynette, and the two were acting too strangely for him to even consider questioning them.
Although he didn't show it, guilt had festered within him. What kind of despair did Coyote feel to have finally found companionship only for it be abruptly taken away in her unconsciousness?
He couldn't imagine, and the thought of the Shinigami and Quincy forcing his hand in the past left no more feelings of neutrality in his mind. Even without meeting the Soul King and questioning his existence, there were things that he simply could not agree with. His final reservations about the current situation were shed away layer by layer as he considered everything and came to a single conclusion.
If the world sought to kill those he cared about for the soul crime of existing,
Then he would shatter that reality.
Shirou stared hard at Yamamoto as the man brandished Ryujin Jakka in a practiced motion and unleashed a wave of heat outwards towards his allies.
The Remnant Flame.
The Strongest of all Fire-type Zanpakuto.
Shirou's eyes narrowed, interface patterns flashing across his skin as his arms spread forward, hands grasping at the air.
He didn't vie for power.
He didn't vie for ambition.
All he wanted was to protect those dear to him, sacrificing even himself to create a world that others may call their own.
Righteous, ethical, honourable, he didn't have to be any of those, just like the life of the saint of France.
A woman waving a banner amidst a bloodied battlefield, beckoning for the divine protection of her brethren.
To save those who could no longer save themselves.
To give courage where there was only despair.
The legend of the saint of the Hundred Years War, filtered through his mind.
The meaning of a flag whose purpose was to shield others from harm, resonating within him.
The symbol of an iris flower, the Fleur du Lis.
Shirou closed his eyes, clasping his hands over the shaft of a spear mounted with a billowing banner.
A battle standard made not to display ferocity or valor, but to provide support for the weary soldier.
A Holy Weapon that calls upon the providence of the Heavens, the blessings of an Angel.
"Luminosité Eternelle."
The spear-mounted flag pole of Jeanne d'arc manifested itself once more. Its resplendent flag unleashing a light down from the sky that shielded the burnt of Yamamoto's attack. Fueled by Shirou's reserves of spiritual energy, the radius of effect increased to envelope all those who would fight for his cause.
It was a golden sheen that fully enveloped one side with protections while exuding a holy aura that stunned the Shinigami watching.
They who donned mantles of black and red representing the Gods of Death, and the Hollows bathed in a Holy Golden Light.
The contrast in the present situation was hard for the Shinigami to swallow. They branded Hollows as evil, harbingers of misfortune and calamity, and yet it was not the Shinigami clad in divine providence, but the Hollows they had always denounced.
Ichigo himself who was within the security of the Saint's Banner only felt more conflicted.
Ichigo's body tensed in agitation as the sheen of gold around him eased off the pressure of Yamamoto's attack until it was insignificant. It was the same for all the hollows Ichigo saw around him. If Hollows were just savage and corrupt spirits, then how could they be blessed with such light?
They weren't evil. They weren't.
Ichigo couldn't understand where all the animosity was coming from. Looking at the Shinigami's eyes and watching the way they glared at Nel left him inwardly unsettled.
Before Shirou had acted to defend against Yamamoto's attack, it was Nel who first pushed Ichigo and Silent to stand behind her without any hesitation. It was Nel who smiled along with Ichigo when he progressed in power, and it was still Nel that was looking out for him despite the severity of the situation.
In comparison, the strict discipline Ichigo could see on the Shinigami's faces left little room for compassion. In fact, he didn't have the best impression of them after the matter with Rukia and their strict regard to tradition. If not for Karin and his friends standing in their ranks, there would no longer be a need to hesitate.
Presently though, Ichigo didn't know what to do and reality was cruel.
He didn't have long to decide.
Yamamoto's expression flickered as his attack completely dissipated. As an experienced commander, he took notice of the confusion and disarray steadily spreading throughout the Thirteen Divisions.
They were stunned, the light of benevolence before them making them question the integrity of their actions.
Yamamoto knew he couldn't allow this to continue.
"Jōkaku Enjō."
The Fortress Blaze.
An immense wall of flame shot its way forward, enveloping Shirou, Aizen, Gin, and Tousen within. The heat of the flames was such that not even Nel or Harribel could draw near it, forcing all nearby Arrancar to vacate the immediate area.
And yet even as the flames encroached Shirou and the other captains within, a battle standard still stood standing erected upon a tall building.
Frail yet uplifting.
A point of rallying that all Arrancar looked upon even as the protective light gradually left their bodies.
Meanwhile, within the wall of flames, Shirou stood quietly before shifting his attention towards Aizen and the others. His lack of movement to avoid Yamamoto's previous attack was in consideration for his compatriots who evidently had no intentions of dodging.
"Is this all a joke to you?" Shirou asked harshly. He uncrossed his arms which he had left in a defensive position to ward away Yamamoto's flame. Clearly though, Yamamoto's attack was more of a binding skill than it was an offensive skill.
It irked Shirou all the more as it hadn't been necessary for him to get caught up in it.
"Of course, we're taking this seriously," Aizen spoke with a smile. "We're just taking in the bigger picture. Surely you don't plan for us to strike this early?"
Shirou's expression remained neutral as Aizen's words filtered into his ears, and it didn't take him long to understand. Shirou had always been an impulsive individual, choosing to act from the moment he deemed that something was unjust, but his years of experience enabled him to comprehend what Aizen meant.
Shirou was akin to Yamamoto on the Shinigami's side, and Aizen and the others equivalent to Captains. Therefore, revealing their strength too early would prevent them from taking the initiative later.
Everything was decided on the basis of revealing one's trump card and who would reveal what last.
It was a game of strategy where the superior strategist would not act recklessly and display their hidden cards. Yet if that meant that he would have to remain idle while others fought and died on his behalf,
Then Shirou couldn't accept it.
"You may not feel the need to act yet Aizen, but it's different for me," he said resolutely. "You may see the other Arrancar as dispensable but each and every one of them has placed their trust in me."
Shirou turned his attention to the wall of flame surrounding him and stretched out his hands into the fire. Immediately, tongues of flame crawled up his arms, intent on burning him to ashes.
Aizen watched the scene without saying a word, inwardly criticizing Shirou for his recklessness yet growing dumbfounded with what he saw next along with Gin and Tousen.
"The first fire gave warmth to the world. A remnant flame that did not burn for the annihilation of all, but for the heat of new life," Shirou spoke softly, watching the flames dance around him.
Neither Aizen, Gin, or Tousen could understand immediately who Shirou was talking to, but that all changed from the moment they noticed a reaction from the fire, almost like an acknowledgment. The flames didn't appear to harm Shirou, rather they moved around him in a calm yet swelling storm.
"You are Ryujin Jakka. A sacred sword of flame not meant to be used for the mundane."
Shirou tapped his chest, willing away the natural spiritual energy that protected his body. The sheer heat around him swiftly engulfed him in an infernal scorching wave.
No fear was reflected in his eyes.
No uncertainty.
He was steel in its truest form, unmarred, and untouched.
If not for the fact that he was a hollow, he would have been more akin with a Zanpakuto spirit.
"Can you not feel it for yourself? You are a flame meant to incinerate evil," Shirou pushed away the hollow facets of his soul and laid bare the presence of his inner world of steel and fire, the truest aspect of who he was.
"I am steel," he said. Strong. Hard.
A weapon neither evil nor good, simply meant to be wielded by a sense of purpose.
"Your fires will not melt me, will not harm me, for you as the will of a sword can already comprehend why," Shirou stared vacantly at the flames surrounding him. "I am not evil."
Shirou stepped fully into the wall of flames, his arms passing through first before finding leverage and pulling the rest of his body through. Far from what Aizen and the others were expecting, the fire did not burn Shirou as if his words had somehow directly been heard by the spirit of Ryujin Jakka.
For Aizen, it wasn't too difficult to accept considering what had transpired with Kyoka Suigetsu, but for Gin and Tousen, it was far different.
"Wait!" Aizen called out just before Shirou left.
Shirou, glanced back from within the wall of flames, an unwavering conviction in his steady bronze-coloured eyes.
Aizen faltered at such a sight. There was a certain strength held in Shirou's gaze that Aizen couldn't explain because he himself had never experienced it. He had always been both methodical and practical, never letting his emotions cloud his rationality, but for the first time, he felt as if he had to reconsider his stance.
There was a power to be found by acting on emotion, something that allowed one to achieve more than they were capable of even with a level mind.
As Aizen considered the prospect, he still ultimately defaulted to his own judgments.
"You are perhaps the greatest trump card we have, and therefore I advise you to reconsider," Aizen explained as earnestly as he could. "Revealing you now would only allow the enemy to maintain their hidden cards, leaving us disadvantaged."
Shirou shook his head, looking at Aizen with a pity originating from Aizen's lack of empathy- an emotion one needed to bond with others.
Shirou's gaze made Aizen feel uncomfortable.
"Like I've said before Aizen, Nel, Harribel, Starrk, Lilynette, and everyone else, they've all come to fight at my behest," Shirou turned his back on Aizen's warnings. "I am their light, their Beacon, so long as they choose to fight for my sake, I. Will. Not. Let. Them. Fall."
Shirou disappeared beyond the raging inferno, leaving Aizen with a troubled expression as Tousen felt inwardly moved. For Tousen had just seen a justice that was perhaps more beautiful than any he had ever known.
To save another not for obligation but because of an unwavering sense of untainted duty.
It was nothing like the justice that would allow a murderer to walk free.
As Shirou traversed through the wall of flame, the individual that was the most startled with the chain of events was Yamamoto himself.
Yamamoto could feel the way Ryujin Jakka rejected his intentions to attack and instead even attempted to persuade him to reconsider his actions. It was preposterous, on the level of unbelievable, yet no matter what he thought, reality proved him wrong.
Within the sight of all present staring up at the sphere of fire forming a dome-like cage in the air, a hand pierced through the flame followed after by an arm and a leg.
Yamamoto's expression stiffened before he quickly took action, closing the distance in a flash and lashing out with his sword.
In response, a sword clashed against Yamamoto's own in a swift counter.
A blade of the darkest black, seemingly sucking in all light.
"You had your turn," a voice spoke to Yamamoto from amidst the flame. "Now I'll have mine."
A spiritual pressuring descended and clashed against Yamamoto's own in equal measure. The Captain-Class Shinigami in the distance were stunned into silence. Yamamoto wasn't Head-Captain because he was the oldest Captain, but because he was the strongest in his era. In his youth, it had even been speculated by younger scholars that no hollow was Yamamoto's match.
In the current instance however, the confidence the Shinigami had after all their training and preparations suddenly faltered; more so when Shirou fully emerged and engaged Yamamoto into a deathmatch in the sky his voice echoing out below with a grunt.
A message that only the Arrancar would understand.
Baraggan, I'll leave things to you.
A visible tremor passed through Baraggan's body, his hands balling into fists.
As the previous God-King of Hueco Mundo, Baraggan had experience in issuing commands to large numbers of Hollows. Of all Arrancar present, he alone was perhaps the most qualified to lead. He had once ruled through fear and deployed his armies through human-wave tactics, but after meeting Shirou, Baraggan had changed. The boredom of his everyday life replaced by a rekindled ambition to be better.
A rivalry formed.
It was a feeling that Baraggan had not felt since his days fighting to survive in the Human World, and now that practically all the Hollows of Hueco Mundo were under his control, he would not shame himself.
Looking around, Baraggan confirmed that the current area was not the Human World. The ambiance was different from what he remembered and most glaringly, there were no humans living within the streets. That being the case, Baraggan's attention soon shifted to the only anomalies in the fake Karakura town worth noting, four massive pillars that the Shinigami were heavily guarding.
Baraggan's eyes narrowed before he gestured with his arm, calling for his personal guards.
Ggio Vega and the other Hollows of Las Noches quickly arrived before Baraggan to assemble a throne of bones.
Baraggan's appearance currently resembled an old man with wrinkled brown skin in a plain white hakama and haori. He didn't possess the same level of intimidation as he did in his original form, but the fact that Shirou had given him command made Shunsui and the other Captains apprehensive.
"Ggio Vega," Baraggan called out after he was seated.
"Yes, my King?" Ggio answered, his appearance as an Arrancar resembling a black-haired young man dressed similarly to Baraggan.
"Take the rest of my personal guard and secure one of those towers," Baraggan commanded, the tone of his voice free of any pride or arrogance. Instead it was collected. "If the enemy proves too strong, retreat and await further orders."
"U-Understood my King," Ggio stuttered out in surprise. After all, having been under Baraggan's service for an innumerable number of years, Ggio had never known Baraggan to be lenient towards failure.
Regardless, it wasn't Ggio's place to question Baraggan's decision and he quickly took a unit of two hundred hollows comprising of Baraggan's personal guards and moved towards the southernmost tower.
Baraggan grunted as Ggio left. None but Baraggan himself was clearer about the change in his personality. He had become humbler, the prejudice he had had towards other hollows for their inability to compete against him quelled by his inability to defeat Shirou. It made Baraggan understand the feeling of losing and being spared out of mercy for the first time.
It infuriated Baraggan, but alternatively, it allowed him to grow stronger. Therefore, if sparing his subordinates from death a few times because of failure could make them grow stronger, then he decided that he could allow for some leniency.
He would no longer lead as a tyrant, but as an arrancar worthy of his rank as an Espada.
A gust of air blew across Baraggan's body, revealing the number '1' beneath his clothes.
"Harribel, take your flank and siege the westernmost tower!" Baraggan's voice was booming. "Nelliel Tu, the easternmost!"
Baraggan leaned his back into his throne, releasing a massive pillar of red spiritual energy while glaring down at the most heavily guarded tower before him. Thousands of Shinigami spanned the distance necessary to cross with Shunsui and Jushiro comprising the Shinigami's vanguard.
"Everyone else," Baraggan's tone was harsh as he drew forth his sword and pointed it forward. "With me. We're going for a slaughter!"
Baraggan's proclamation was echoed by a resounding primal war cry, thousands upon thousands of arrancar howling into the air as the Shinigami stiffened in their defensive formations.
"DEATH!" The arrancars roared charging forward, many being former members of Las Noches and fanatically loyal to Baraggan.
Harribel led her flank to the west as instructed while Apacci, Mila Rose, and Sung-Sun grumbled under their breath about Baraggan ordering them around.
Seeing Harribel move and the rows of Arrancar charging ahead of him, Baraggan decided that it was about time. He floated forward while seated on his chair towards the north.
If Shinigami were truly the embodiments of Death Gods,
Then it was time for a rude awakening.
The God King of Hueco Mundo was coming.
The Bringer of Death and Decay, the truest aspect of a God of Death.
Furthermore, on his person was not just the power of decay but an energy the likes of which none could have possible imagined or prepared for stored within a blade pulsating with a dull azure light.
A crystallized legend granted to Baraggan as a gift in the past and a direct compliment to his powers.
A weapon of a Hero of Old in which age only made it stronger like the finest of wines.
Baraggan's final trump card firmly kept hidden within his mantle.
A Noble Phantasm.
"Ichigo keep close, it's time to move."
Nel called out to Ichigo before striding forward to the east on Baraggan's instructions. Silent was already beside Nel, her expression grave while assessing the sheer number of Shinigami impeding their path.
Only Ichigo was still hesitating. Had it been anywhere else other that the east, perhaps he may have been more willing, but the easternmost tower was exactly where Karin and his friends were stationed to help defend.
He no longer had any time to think.
The sounds of war echoed out as Baraggan's, Harribel's, and Ggio Vega's forces clashed with the defenders of their individual towers. Only Nel was left and she didn't want to be left behind in her compatriot's wakes.
She was just as devoted to Shirou's cause as every Arrancar in the area.
"Let's go," Nel urged hurriedly, several hundred arrancar following her as she got fed up with Ichigo's hesitation and directly manhandled him.
"I can run by myself," he pestered as Nel dragged him by the arm. She eventually let go when he proved his words and picked up speed on his own initiative.
Nel nodded at him in approval before speeding a short way ahead where she began issuing orders to the arrancar under her.
As Nel, Harribel, Baraggan, and Ggio Vego led their groups, the Shinigami were not idle. All kinds of defensive Kidos sprang up across the battlefield with massive barrier-like temple gates creating heavy obstacles to overcome.
In that regard, Ichigo could only stare in Baraggan's direction in horror.
Baraggan was a monster in the eyes of Ichigo and the Shinigami in Baraggan's path.
Where other arrancar were hindered by the Shinigami's numerous restrictive and offensive Kidos, Baraggan alone was unaffected. There was a blackish purple miasma around him that disintegrated everything it touched. Kido, Shinigami, Zanpakuto, they all withered under Baraggan's hands like dust on a counter.
It was particularly chilling sight to see a man become a skeleton within seconds of exposure, more so hundreds of un-ranked Shinigami at a time.
Ichigo continued to stare in shock before Nel noticed and moved to run beside him, smiling wryly.
"To many Hollows previously living in Hueco Mundo including myself, it was by Baraggan's hands that we imagined our deaths would come," Nel said solemnly. "He was a tyrant, a hollow with the ability to kill anything living he touches. Even now it's jarring to me that I'm not fighting against him but alongside him."
Nel paused as she stared out at Baraggan single-handedly drawing the attention of all Captain-Class Shinigami in his area, thinning the number of Captain-Class Shinigami both she and Harribel had to deal with.
"Reluctant as I am to admit this, as an ally, I have nothing to complain about him," Nel bit her lips and resolutely put the matter aside. "Baraggan's doing his task, therefore I will do mine."
Saying so, Nel increased her pace once more, drastically shortening the time it would take her to reach the eastern tower, eager to prove her worth. In contrast, Ichigo was far from motivated. His current attitude about the war was perhaps most akin to Starrk and Lilynette.
Both Starrk and Lilynette were part of Nel's flank, yet neither of them seemed to care for anything other than staring at Shirou fighting in the sky, their expressions unreadable. It was as if they were transfixed, struggling with something within them.
Ichigo glanced once at Nel who assumed he would quickly follow after her, and then towards Lilynette and Starrk who didn't even seem to notice him as he passed by.
The oddity in the change of Lilynette's behaviour concerned him, but more than that, there was a more pressing issue.
His idiotic little sister was charging passed the Shinigami's defensive lines and lunging straight at Nel without regard for her safety.
Damn it Karin!
Ichigo's expression fell.
Karin's eyes were blood shot, her anger so acute that it manifested in her spiritual energy in the form of a roaring pink skull around her butcher-knife like sword.
"You bitch!" Karin yelled, directing all her attention on Nel who she had previously seen interact with Ichigo. "Give me my brother!"
Even from where Ichigo was standing he could hear the anger in Karin's voice, the desperation within it that struck him deeper than he could imagine.
Perhaps more affected then Ichigo was Silent.
When Silent had stood by Ichigo and Nel before, both Nel and Ichigo were tall enough to completely shield her from seeing Karin and Karin from seeing her.
With the situation as it was now however, with everyone out in the open, it was impossible for Silent not to see Karin.
In response, Silent stood frozen.
Ichigo who was beside Silent didn't pay attention to Silent's actions in favour of speeding forward in a panic as he saw Nel slash out with her sword.
"No, Nel stop!" Ichigo placed a hand on Nel's sword-arm and diverted the trajectory of her strike.
Nel's eyes widened before she shoved Ichigo away and hastily blocked Karin's incoming attack.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Nel grimaced as her blade pressed against Karin's own. The standoff produced a shower of sparks as the edge of both Nel and Karin's blades grated against each other.
Ichigo didn't know what to say seeing the confusion in Nel's eyes and the worry in Karin's. In the end, all that came from his mouth were stutters. "I-I was-"
"Mom," Karin's voice cut Ichigo off.
Both Ichigo and Nel stared at Karin whose lips slowly began to quiver.
In the midst of the sword-lock Nel and Karin were in, Karin's eyes didn't stay trained on Nel, rather they misted over as she stared at a certain direction.
Nel furrowed her brows and felt that there was something off with the situation so she promptly disengaged from Karin while pulling Ichigo along with her.
A distance of ten meters was created yet Karin didn't follow. Instead, her blade began to lower as she stared at Silent whose hands were anxiously crossed over her chest.
There was a tension in the air that was hard to describe. On one hand Silent felt compelled to step forward and embrace Karin, but there was an insecurity in Karin's gaze that prevented Silent from doing so. It was like a rift existed between them.
Silent opened her mouth, but no words came out. All she could do was smile warmly to convey her feelings, and that alone was enough.
It was the same smile.
It was a smile that Karin could clearly recall in her childhood, and it left her in a daze.
One of the arrancer Nel was in charge of leading took the opportunity to attack.
Karin's back was exposed and she made no signs of defending herself.
Ichigo flew into a rage, his emotional drive enhanced by his continued use of his hollow abilities moving him by instinct. Before he even understood what he was doing, Zangetsu was stabbing directly through the arrancar's body.
Said arrancar was stupefied, not once believing that he would receive an attack from someone who he perceived as an ally. Blood trickled down Zangetsu's blade and stained the white garments the arrancar wore in a deep crimson that horrified Ichigo as the ramifications of what he'd done set in. He hastily withdrew Zangetsu from the arrancar's body, causing the arrancar to stagger back.
"Y-You were Lady Nel's friend," the arrancar chocked out in disbelief, his sword clattering to the ground as blood sprayed from his mouth in a choked cough. "Why…?"
Unable to even respond in time, Ichigo could only watch as the arrancar fell limp and crashed into the debris of a destroyed building.
Silence reigned in the area.
Ichigo felt such regret that it was almost unbearable. The arrancar in particular had even once greeted him respectfully in the lands of the Vasto of White where all arrancar viewed each other not as enemies but as fellow brothers and sisters in arms.
Ichigo too had been a part of that community. He had even felt the connection each arrancar had with each other in their shared devotion.
As hollows, they had evolved together as single entities taking nourishment from swords made of spiritual energy. There was never a source of conflict, only the development of unbreakable bonds and comradery.
The arrancar in the lands of the Vasto of White trusted each other.
Fought alongside each other.
And took care of each other.
Which was why it was so difficult for Ichigo to turn around and stare at the face of the Espada who willingly trained him without any ulterior motives.
He didn't have the heart to.
Not when he knew that she was probably hurting far more than he was at his perceived betrayal.
Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, the Big Sister figure of the Lands of the Vasto of White.
Chapter 40: Sword and Soul: Part 3
Death and ruin.
Perhaps those two concepts were the only words that could describe what Shirou was feeling while staring down below at the ensuing battle, a clashing of black and white. A war in which neither side was willing to back down.
When did it all come to this?
Shirou's countenance darkened as he maneuvered in the air.
Obstinate, traditional, unbending, Head-Captain Yamamoto wouldn't tolerate any kind of compromise let alone accept an offer to negotiate. Then again, perhaps everything was just wishful thinking.
Although Aizen called the Hollows Arrancar now, to Shirou, they were still the same Hollows he had protected on a barren hill of sand. As such, how could he not understand them?
Shirou didn't voice it, but it wasn't difficult for him to see the hidden animosity the Hollows had. Regardless if they were fighting the Shinigami on Shirou's instruction or not, many fought because they wanted to.
They fought both for his beliefs and his personal goals.
Therefore, he would do the same for them as the embodiment of their past injustices. He as the Lord of Hollows, the King of Hueco Mundo, would rid them of their past grievances.
"Trace, On."
Swords spontaneously formed in the air, sleek and refined, the sharpened edges gleaming with traces of magical energy.
With a swing of Shirou's hands, they dropped down over Yamamoto like torrential rain.
Yamamoto's expression fell in response to the attack. Already he was dealing with the consequence of Ryujin Jakka pestering him to reconsider his actions, and now he had to do so while dodging.
Yamamoto clicked his tongue, unwilling to admit that he was being pressured and instead adamantly rebuking his Zanpakuto as he was forced to block.
Enough of this! Yamamoto forcibly suppressed Ryujin Jakka despite Ryujin Jakka's protests.
His convictions were correct, his methods absolute.
He was not making a mistake, he was sure of it. Yamamoto dismissed Ryujin Jakka's final attempt at persuasion and finally found the clarity of silence in his mind.
Composing himself, Yamamoto gripped onto the hilt of his sword with both of his hands, making sure to keep Shirou within his line of sight.
Shirou was dangerous, and on top of everything else, Yamamoto already knew that he was outmatched.
The kind of power Shirou had displayed back then, it was enough for Yamamoto to inwardly despair. However, one observation at least managed to relieve him.
"You are significantly weaker," Yamamoto said gruffly, panting for breath.
Shirou stilled at Yamamoto's statement, but only momentarily. After all, Yamamoto was only half-correct. It was true that Shirou could be perceived as weaker, yet that was only because of a single reason.
Heuco Mundo.
The world Shirou had created for the hollows was naturally tied to him. Therefore, there was a certain level of up-keep constantly siphoned from his reserve to maintain Hueco Mundo's stability.
Inside Hueco Mundo he was a God, but outside was different. He was fallible.
Yet so what?
"I am the Bone of my Sword."
He was far from incapable.
The reality tore around him, ripples forming as magical and spiritual energy converged to create weapons of myth and folklore. The fluctuations of energy originating from the armaments that formed in the air resembled Zanpakuto, yet weren't. They were different.
Three swords.
They whose origin were not born of man, but of Legend.
Embodying the principle of one who did not fight for the sake of one's self, but for the sake of others. A concept known as duty or responsibility?
Perhaps valor?
Maybe something else?
The answer was one that the swords within Shirou's soul already knew. An acknowledgment from one Knight to another. The ideal of the King of Knights and what she stood for in her rule.
Chivalry and the steel that stood by it.
The sword of the Sun.
The Unfading Light of the Lake.
And the Sword of Promised Victory.
One to the left hand, the other to the right, and the last strapped loosely at the waist within a resplendent blue-sheath.
A resonance of Sword and Soul.
'Shirou, I am with you, WE are with you.'
It was almost as if Shirou could feel them standing beside him, the spirits of the swords in his soul; a voice he had not heard in centuries speaking softly to his ears.
His hands grasped tightly to the swords in his grip, feeling their sentiments.
'The enemy thinks us weaker, how laughable.'
Another voice, suave and confident.
'There is a price to pay for ignorance.'
Voice after voice spoke out, leading to only a single phrase.
'We are one.'
Something changed in the air, invisible ripples expanding outwards and effecting all.
Yamamoto's eyes widened. He could feel it. Ryujin Jakka, it was trembling in agitation. All around, the other Shinigami in the area felt similar reactions. It was almost as if a Soukyoku had suddenly manifested, a gathering of thousands of Zanapkuto forming a single entity.
No Shinigami could understand what was happening, but Yamamoto didn't have the time to afford contemplation.
Shirou was armed with three swords each of which emitted a distinct aura that caused Yamamoto to become apprehensive and it was only growing more unbearable.
"Enough!" Yamamoto had no choice but to threaten.
Yamamoto began releasing his spiritual energy in accordance to the danger he was feeling as the heat in the area increased exponentially.
Yamamoto's power would have had no effect on Shirou at any other time, but the current situation was different.
Shirou's lips thinned. The spiritual pressure Yamamoto was releasing was visibly affecting the weaker Hollows and Shinigami fighting below. Worse, Yamamoto was focusing the output of his Spiritual energy over the Hollows. Some were already on their knees panting for breath. If Yamamoto continued increasing his energy, then only death would await those fighting below.
"Do you think you are the only one who can release such spiritual pressure?" Shirou asked coldly before beginning to draw on his own.
The release of Shirou's spiritual energy served to counter Yamamoto's, creating an effect similar to crashing waves as the two's aura's collided. One was of fire, and the other a tranquil grey.
Yamamoto didn't respond to Shirou's question. He wasn't a fool nor did he release his power out of desperation or at a whim. It was a calculated move with only a single implied message.
-Neither of them could fight at full power given their location. Otherwise, their subordinates would all die from the pressure.
To begin with, all Yamamoto needed to do was stall.
The current battle wasn't going to be a battle of spiritual energy, but one of skill.
Realizing the meaning of Yamamoto's silence, Shirou's expression remained unchanged.
"Are you underestimating me?" He asked.
In a battle of skill, Shirou's sheer versatility was unmatched. Assuming Yamamoto grew accustomed to Shirou's fighting style, he could simply switch weapons and tempo in a heart beat.
Yamamoto shook his head gravely as he readied his blade. Although Yamamoto had always been confident in his Zanjutsu and Hakudo, he was still feeling apprehensive.
"It's precisely because of my weariness of you that I was forced to take this kind of measure," Yamamoto said gruffly. To be truthful, he didn't want to resort to releasing his spiritual pressure over those weaker than him as it endangered his subordinates, but he had no other choice.
Before the war even started, Yamamoto had already read numerous reports about the Vasto of White's protectiveness when it comes to those that served him. Using such an underhanded method left Yamamoto in a momentary bout of self-ridicule but he knew his priorities.
Yamamoto put strength into his arms, his veins popping beneath his skin. Knowing Shirou's sheer versatility, Yamamoto was hardly confident. To that end, he'd already resolved himself and contacted a certain Shinigami for aid.
"Besides, who said I was fighting you alone?" Yamamoto questioned.
Shirou's eyes flickered as a shadow entered the peripherals of his vision.
It was a man not wearing the traditional black garments of the Shinigami but instead wearing a simple dark coat and a green-and-white-patterned bucket-hat.
"Well, I would say that it's a pleasure to meet you," the man inclined his head in greeting. "But that would be a lie," the man smiled. "And I don't like liars and those that associate with them."
Shirou's expression remained passive, taking note of the way the man arrived. A hole had formed in the dimension of the fake Karakura Town around him.
"Who are you?" Shirou asked.
The only method Shirou knew of to directly enter a sealed off dimension was through the power to distort reality; a strength Shirou didn't believe anyone other than him possessed.
Therefore, there had to be some other method.
"Who am I?" The man spoke nonchalantly before his expression sharpened into one of seriousness. "I'm sure Aizen must have told you by now."
The man was fiddling with some kind of device in his hands.
"I'm Kisuke Urahara. The creator of this dimension and the man whose come up with a method to end you."
They were worms, all of them.
Black vapours were spreading out uncontrollably, wisp like clouds resembling the cold touch of death.
Nothing more than ants to be stepped on beneath the soles of his feet. At least, he had thought so once before.
Barragan moved unhindered, the army of Arrancar behind him eliminating all the Shinigami fortunate enough to survive the initial assault. They attacked in unison, displaying a professional prowess Barragan had not once seen before. Or perhaps because he didn't choose to?
He had never aligned his views with the perspective of weaklings, but now it felt like he understood.
Even ants had their merits.
Just because something was weak did not mean that the potential did not exist. It was once the same for him. He the ruler of Hueco Mundo made to see that his stagnation at the top of the World did not mean the end of his growth.
With defeat came motivation. And with motivation came new strength and viewpoints.
"Retreat, none of you are needed any longer," Barragan's tone was hard, barring no room for misinterpretation.
He stopped in the air, turning back to stare at the army of Arrancar that had faithfully charged with him. It was different, leading in the front.
From where he stood, he could see it clearly. A scene far different from the one he had always witnessed sitting upon his throne of bones as his legions marched forward.
A picture of what it meant to truly be a King leading from the front.
With every step, his soldiers would follow.
With every command, his men didn't hesitate to follow through.
It was a kind of devotion and loyalty Barragan was experiencing for the first time.
What he saw in the eyes of the Arrancar that followed him was not fear or anxiety, but respect as he had enshrouded them all in his power and had led them to decimate the ranks of the Shinigami.
Even now when Barragan had ordered them to retreat, rather than immediately obey, many were hesitant and had conflicted expressions.
They didn't want to fight with Barragan, nor fight for their own personal gain.
What they wanted to do, was fight for Barragan; the fallen King who maintained his rivalry with the Vasto of White despite countless defeats while fostering the remnants of a beaten army in the ruins of Las Noches in hopes of an eventual uprising.
"Lord Barragan, we can still-" The Arrancars made to argue but Barragan silenced them all.
"Enough." Barragan flicked his hand. There was a certain pride in Barragan's actions that was hard to hide, more so now that he possessed a face to display expression. "If you wish to be of use, live to fight another day."
Yes, it was that motto exactly. Day by day, defeat by defeat, always struggling to eventually improve beyond one's own capabilities.
What Barragan needed now wasn't fodder ready to die, but elites that would later join him in future battle.
"Go."
Barragan left no room for arguments.
He glared, stone-faced at all those that chose to linger, forcing them all away through sheer force of will. The last to leave were the three Arrancar excluding Ggio Vega that had been in Barragan's service the longest.
Charlotte Cuuhlhourne.
Avirama Redder.
And Findorr Calius.
"We wish you victory in battle my King." They all bowed their heads. Even if it was acknowledged that the Vasto of White was the undisputed ruler of Hueco Mundo, Barragan would always be their King.
"Naturally," Barragan responded. "A God would not fall from the ploys of mortals. Now go lest you three remember the price to pay for insubordination."
The three Arrancar nodded their heads before departing, choosing to aid Ggio Vega on the attack of the Southern Tower.
Watching them leave, Barragan stood alone in an area of black decay. The purplish haze he was subconsciously releasing acting as feelers that sucked away all vitality.
Rocks die.
Energy dies.
Life dies.
Any and all things will age and crumble with time.
With a step, I bring death. With a breath I bring ruin.
Barragan narrowed his eyes towards the reason why he dispersed his army. They would only get in the way. "Now then, I suppose you fools think you can stop me?" He spoke.
Jushiro Ukitake.
Shunsui Kyouraku.
Toshiro Hitsugaya.
Three Captain-Class Shinigami were forced to move to intercept Barragan's war path. They stood directly in front, warning all other lower-class Shinigami nearby to evacuate, yet it wasn't going to be so easy.
With a thought, trails of purple smoke flew out spontaneously, putting the lower-class Shinigami at risk.
"Don't let it touch you!" Toshiro yelled out in warning, hurriedly pulling back as the miasma drew closer.
It was horrifying to watch the skin of an individual peel off layer by layer until nothing was left even of the bones. Toshiro had had enough of the sight; the scene of entire units of Shinigami aged to ashes a memory that would haunt Toshiro for centuries.
Unfortunately, many of the lower-class Shinigami didn't possess the means to out run the miasma.
"Fucking Monster."
It was the consensus amongst all Shinigami in Barragan's path.
Barragan had not participated in the battle of the Seireitei, making it impossible for any countermeasures to have had been made against him.
Yamamoto had grouped up the Seireitei's Shinigami into large legions to effectively attack all at once and mix in with the Arrancar army. Thereby, effectively nullifying the Vasto of White's capability to carpet-bomb the field with whatever weapons he could form from the air due to the close proximity between enemy and ally. Of course, such a precaution was only in the case that Yamamoto failed to engage the Vasto of White in combat. In which case, grouping was still the Shinigami's best method to support each other.
Against Barragan however, grouping up was a death sentence.
Before the Shinigami could even commence an attack, Barragan had already taken the initiative.
"What an utter waste of time," Barragan sneered. "Come at me, all of you."
Barragan swung out his arm, revealing a double-sided axe embedded with a red jewel that resembled an eye. It was the weapon that stored the true essence of what made Barragan who he was as the ruler of Las Noches.
He was done playing.
The amount of attention he'd drawn to himself was already enough to mark him as a high-profile target for the Shinigami. It was his turn to take a page of out the Vasto of White's book and fulfill the obligations set upon him.
Shirou had placed his trust in Barragan to lead.
A rival acknowledging a rival.
The Tower before him was the target, all Shinigami in his way, nothing more than obstacles to be cut down.
Resurreccion, the power to release that which was sealed away. The return of an Arrancar's origins.
The aspect of what made a Hollow a Hollow.
Spiritual energy the likes of which Toshiro and the other Captain had never seen before exploded out with Barragan at its center. Malefic, tainted, vile, it was a cruel and merciless red that denoted the strength of a Hollow that was once at the pinnacle of all Great Hollows.
A Vasto Lorde.
"Shikai, Bankai, whatever you Shinigami call it. They all pale in comparison to my might." Barragan's voice was rasped, decisive. "I will show you the power of a Fallen God-King,"
He never did like his human form.
For he was a Hollow through and through.
And he had his pride.
"Rot," black mist spewed forth form his mouth, his entire body enveloped in a red light. Arrogante."
Toshiro and the other Captains shielded themselves from the shockwaves of wind, their arms bent in front of their faces. Fortunately for the weaker Shinigami, every single one had heeded Shunsui and Jushiro's orders to retreat. Therefore, the only Shinigami left in the area to face off against Barragan were Toshiro, Jushiro, and Shunsui.
When the spiritual energy stabilized, what appeared before Toshiro and the others was a skeleton donned in a regal purple robe. A broken crown was placed over top Barragan's head and the same fur coating he had always worn in Hueco Mundo was out in display.
"Much better," Barragan muttered in satisfaction, opening and clenching his fists.
The purple miasma surrounding Barragan was far denser than before to the point that both Jushiro and Toshiro were hesitant to approach anywhere near.
Barragan could care less for Jushiro and Toshiro's caution, he raised a single finger. The action was so nonchalant that it could be taken as blatant disregard for his opponents, but its effects were impossible to ignore.
"The breath of death, Respira."
The black miasma shot out exponentially at a speed that not even Soifon may have been able to outrun. The area around instantly hollowed, as if a black hole had suddenly formed and absorbed everything, leaving nothing behind.
A single touch would rot everything.
Fortunately, Toshiro, Jushiro, and Shunsui were prepared due to their caution.
From the moment Barragan called out his attack, to the moment Toshiro and the others reacted, they had already retreated to a safe distance.
Seeing the devastation Barragan's attack caused, a chill went down Toshiro's back. Had Barragan released such an attack from the beginning when the army of Shinigami were still in close proximity, then it wasn't hard to imagine the results.
Toshiro's confidence fell. He didn't say anything, but in the midst of retreating he had performed a test. He had shot out a torrent of Hyorinmaru's ice to block Barragan's purple haze to no effect.
It was a slap in the face eluding to a harsh reality.
There was nothing Toshiro felt that he could do against Barragan.
Even with all of his intelligence, there was no answer to be found. Let alone defeat Barragan, it was already impossible to draw close to him.
Toshiro gritted his teeth in frustration. It was then that Jushiro spoke out.
"Let me give this a try," Jushiro said, making to step into the path of the lingering Respira in the air.
Jushiro's Zanpakuto was known as Sōgyo no Kotowari, a pair of swords that allowed Jushiro to absorb an enemy's energy attack and rebound it back to the enemy.
Whatever attack Barragan used, Jushiro was gambling on the fact that the miasma must have been made of an energy he could redirect and utilize.
Still, Jushiro couldn't help but feel hesitant. He had seen it first hand, the way the Zanpakuto of the lower-class Shinigami aged to dust. If his gamble failed, then what would happen to Sōgyo no Kotowari?
It wasn't something Jushiro wanted to think about, nor was it something he would have to dwell on for too long either. Shunsui would make sure of that.
"I don't think that's a good idea Jushiro, leave this one to me and go help the others." Shunsui tipped his straw hat down. "Rather than fighting here, you and Captain Hitsugaya are needed elsewhere."
As Shunsui spoke, he gestured to Harribel leading Sung-Sun, Apacci, and Mila Rose on the opposite side of the battlefield towards the pale faces of the lieutenants guarding the western tower. "The lieutenants stationed at the West Tower won't be able to hold that type of firepower back," he stated.
"H-Hinamori, Rangiku!" Toshiro said in concern, recalling the placement of his friend and lieutenant.
The situation didn't look good.
With the sheer chaos Barragan had caused, neither Toshiro or Jushiro had had the time to take their proper positions. Soifon had already gone to intercept Ggio Vega in the Southern tower while Sajin Komamura had gone to aid the eastern tower. Kenpachi wasn't even up for consideration in strategic placement as the man simply led the eleventh division on a massacre on the battle field.
Both Toshiro and Jushiro were meant to be elsewhere. They couldn't afford to remain where they were unless they could instantly defeat Barragan. However, the matchup was impossible for both Toshiro and Jushiro who needed to get in close to do any actual damage.
"Enough thinking," Shunsui chastised. "Get going the both of you, before this hard-ass does something to stop you."
"R-Right," Toshiro said. Wings of ice formed on his back before he immediately took off. It wasn't difficult to see just how important he saw Hinamori and Rangiku as.
Jushiro didn't leave right away. He stared hard at Shunsui. As the two had been friends for years, Jushiro knew Shunsui's habits and strengths well.
"Are you certain about this?" Jushiro asked.
Shunsui smirked. "Far more certain than the odds of you losing your swords. You already know the uniqueness of my Zanpakuto. Let me handle this."
Jushiro's lips thinned, but he didn't argue either before leaving.
Noticing how his three opponents had suddenly dropped down to one, rage began to bubble up within Brragan's chest.
"Just you alone?" Barragan said in ridicule. "You overestimate yourself."
"That may very well be the case," Shunsui freely admitted. "But I'll have you know, I can be a sore loser sometimes."
Barragan remained silent.
There was no need to converse with a fool, but for one reason or another, Barragan sensed something odd from Shunsui.
A confidence that should not been present given his circumstances, let alone the words that came from Shunsui's mouth.
"Well, Fallen God-King." Shunsui smiled as he approached. "How about we play a game?"
Elsewhere, the tension was running high in the direction of the Eastern Tower.
It was an oppressive kind of silence, the kind where words were hard to come by. Ichigo, being at the center of it all felt it the worst. His nerves were high-strung and the weight of the stares over his shoulders was stifling.
It was unbearable.
Friend.
Ally.
Companion.
That was what he once was to them. But now, in the eyes of the Arrancar, all he received were glares.
Ichigo's hands balled into fists in self-ridicule. It was one thing to be wrongfully judged, but it was another thing entirely to prove one's innocence. There was simply nothing he could say in the current situation as the Arrancar's reactions were justified. In a position where he was trusted by all, the sword in his hands effectively severed all relations.
Ichigo swallowed.
"Ichigo?" Karin called out in a daze.
Nothing was making sense to her. Her mom's sudden reappearance, Ichigo's apparent lucidity, nothing fell in line with her previous thoughts and assumptions. If the Hollows were as evil as the Shinigami explained them to be, then why did Ichigo appear to be so guilt stricken over his actions? Better yet, why was it that her mom was looking at her in reproach?
Karin pursed her lips, but she knew it wasn't the time to act recklessly. She, Ichigo, and Silent were surrounded entirely by Arrancar, all of which neither Ichigo or Silent seemed inclined to attack.
Ichigo didn't respond to Karin's question. Instead, he merely raised his sword up in resignation. There was simply no explanation to give.
The glares directed on Ichigo turned murderous in the instant he readied his sword.
"Y-You ungrateful traitor!"
"FILTH!"
"What did Lady Nel possibly see in you?!"
Ichigo took all insults with a neutral face, flinching only when Nel was mentioned and turning his head away in shame. The action only infuriated the Arrancars further. If Ichigo had at least attempted to defend himself then there could have been a chance that he had been forced into action. However, by remaining quiet, it was a clear admission.
The Arrancars bristled, many drawing their swords.
As animosity and anger reached their peak, a woman stepped forward.
She who stood in front of both Ichigo and Karin, shielding them from danger regardless of what they had done or whose side they were on.
Silent, the Hollow without a voice.
A mother even by instinct.
"Silent, why are you defending them!?" An Arrancar shouted in befuddlement.
Silent merely shook her head, her expression unflinching, her body immovable.
Staring at Silent's back, it wasn't just Ichigo whose breath shook, but Karin's too. It was a familiar view. One that neither Ichigo or Karin had seen in years, not since they were little and still clinging to their mother's legs for protection.
"M-Mom," Karin muttered out before biting on her lips and readying her sword.
If anyone dared attack Silent, then Karin didn't care what would happen to her. She'd murder them all!
Noticing Karin's stance, it wasn't difficult for Ichigo to understand the thoughts going through her mind. At any other time, perhaps he would have been the same, but how could he fight knowing that the enemy Karin would risk it all to defeat were individuals he and Silent saw as friends?
Ichigo hesitated, but the patience of the Arrancar had long since run out. They'd already decided to just subdue Silent and directly attack Ichigo and Karin.
Glancing at each other, the Arrancar took action in an instant.
Four dashed in to apprehend Silent while the rest moved into to attack.
Karin's eyes dilated in fury, but before she could even swing her sword, an authoritative voice froze all.
"Wait," Nel spoke softly. "Don't attack."
It was the first time Nel had spoken since Ichigo had lashed out. Unlike all the Arrancar that were up in arms over Ichigo's betrayal, she alone had taken the time to assess the injuries of the Arrancar Ichigo stabbed.
Currently, the injured Arrancar was unconscious. Blood dyed the white garments the Arrancar wore in a deep red, and it was clear that unless medical attention was received, then the wound would prove fatal. It was knowing this fact that Nel's expression was frosty.
There had to have been a reason.
There had to have been.
Nel was still trying to convince herself as she stared right at Ichigo.
"Why?"
The question was laced with all the turbulent emotions Nel was suppressing: Grief, anger, confusion. If Ichigo didn't know her so well, then he would never have had noticed the subtle changes in her facial features.
She wanted to believe in him. In the individual she thought she knew. It was the kind of trust that only a Hollow such as Nel seemed to possess.
It made it difficult for Ichigo to form any excuses or remain quiet out of guilt. What Nel wanted was the truth, and he would give it to her.
Ichigo pulled both Karin and Silent in close, the sudden action catching both off-guard. Karin released a small yelp as a result while Silent widened her eyes.
Ichigo ignored their reactions.
He stared directly at Nel. "They are family," he said strongly. "I couldn't stand aside and watch them get killed."
The revelation stunned Nel. It was rare for a Hollow to possess any kind of memory about their lives in the world of the living but it wasn't impossible. She herself could recall vague snippets of her past life, yet perhaps Ichigo was an exception.
Family?
Hollows didn't have families, but perhaps the closest thing Nel had to one was her relationship between Ichigo, Pesche, Dondochakka, and her colleagues in the lands of the Vasto of White.
In which case, she could relate to why Ichigo had attacked so ruthlessly.
Hearing Ichigo's reason, Nel's expression softened before her lips thinned. No matter what reason Ichigo gave, Nel understood that it wouldn't change what had already happened. She solemnly stared at the dying Arrancar in her hands, feeling for the first time that she didn't know what to do.
However, Nel was a decisive woman.
"Come here Ichigo, Silent," Nel called out, her expression unreadable.
Ichigo and Silent glanced at each other, but neither could feel any kind of bloodlust coming from Nel. Tentatively, the two began moving forward, only hesitating when they realized Karin was left standing alone.
Ichigo eyed the Arrancar nearby, but despite their unwillingness over the present matter, none made a move against Karin whose mouth was slowly curving downward. Something didn't feel quite right, yet Karin understood that it wasn't the time to voice her doubts.
Arriving next to Nel, Ichigo watched as Nel nodded at him and Silent, a wry smile coming over her face before she gestured for an Arrancar to take the injured man off of her hands.
Nel sighed thereafter, closing her mouth as her brows furrowed.
Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around both Ichigo and Silent in all encompassing hug.
"Even when we're out of training, you really do know how to cause others to worry don't you?" Nel whispered into Ichigo's ear in complaint. Ichigo felt too ashamed to reply to Nel's statement and simply coughed into a hand.
Nel then shifted her attention towards Silent in helplessness. "And you, why are all the problems always related to you?"
Silent simply tilted her head.
Feeling the two in her arms, Nel was strongly reminded of her friends, Pesche and Dondochakka. She'd always been the one to protect them, and in turn, they had always been the ones to stay by her side.
In the easy times and in the hard times. That was what it meant to form bonds.
Family huh?
Hollows didn't have families, but the people Nel cared for could be considered her family, she the elder sister who watched out for the sake of the rest. That was why her current choice was difficult to make.
"He's going to die you know?" Nel spoke without power, referring to the Arrancar she had passed off to be looked after. It wasn't possible to heal him even with her own capabilities as the wound was too severe. Kind of like how administering bandages for an internal injury. It was hopeless.
Ichigo stiffened at Nel's statement, at the emptiness of her tone.
This was his fault to begin with. There had to be a way to help somehow. Ichigo creased his forehead as he pondered, the action displacing a few strands of his orange hair.
Orange.
Orange.
Orihime!
It was if thunder had resounded within Ichigo's mind. Recalling Orihime's abilities, he realized that it was fully within her jurisdictions to heal the injured Arrancar.
"We can save him," Ichigo said decisively, the confusion in his eyes regarding the war fading as he set a goal for himself. "One of my friends, Orihime, a girl with orange hair like mine has the means to heal injuries back to normal."
Ichigo made to struggle out of Nel's grip, but for one reason or another, she wasn't letting go. In fact, her hold on him was getting stronger, her finger empowered by her spiritual energy.
Ichigo glanced up at Nel in bewilderment. "What are you doing?" He asked. "I'm certain that if I can talk to Orihime she'll help out."
Nel shook her head wearily. "It's not that easy," she said. "Look, even that girl over there understands it."
Nel gestured towards Karin, causing Ichigo to glance back at his younger sister in time to see her biting on her lips. She was hesitating, her eyes darting back and forth as she refused to meet Ichigo's hopeful gaze.
A pit steadily began forming at Ichigo's stomach. He wanted to call out to Karin to demand for an answer, but Nel forcibly shifted his attention back on her.
"Listen Ichigo, how can you possibly think that any of us Arrancar can just freely enter the Shinigami's ranks as we see fit?" Nel released a breath. "It's not possible. The only way is if we fight our way in."
Her words said, Nel's expression frosted over as she turned her attention directly on Karin; her aura as a former Vasto Lorde on full display.
"Will you try to stop us?" She spoke sharply, threateningly.
Placed under pressure, Karin was unable to answer. If she didn't have friends and acquaintances amongst the Shinigami, then maybe she could have just stepped aside, but she knew that she couldn't.
Karin's silence was her answer.
Light flickered within Nel's eyes, but it was at this point that Ichigo understood the implications of Nel's words.
"Wait, hold on!" He immediately attempted to struggle out of Nel's grip, but her arms were like vices.
"I'm sorry," Nel apologized as she began channeling her spiritual energy, pink light surrounding her.
Caught up in the midst of Nel's hold, Nel quickly struck both Ichigo and Silent at the back of their heads, forcibly knocking them unconscious. Falling limp in her embrace, Nel nodded towards the nearest Arrancar before passing them over.
Nel regarded Ichigo and Silent as people close to her, and because of that, she would protect them from pain, and hardship.
Ichigo and Silent. They didn't have to fight if it would only bring them grief. Therefore, Nel would shoulder it all.
At the instant, Nel rendered Ichigo and Silent unconscious, Karin's breath hitched.
"Y-You-"
Nel cut Karin off by raising her hand. Ichigo regarded Karin as family. Nel wouldn't needlessly harm her more than necessary.
"Go," Nel said. "These two will be safe so focus on the fights that matter."
Karin hesitated, her complexion paling. She didn't completely believe Nel's words, but from what she had seen of Nel's character, Nel could at least be somewhat trusted. Moreover, the Hollows didn't seem as Evil as the Shinigami made them out to be. The fury that she had felt from the Arrancar over one of their own getting injured was genuine too.
Karin's observations led her to a single conclusion. Did they really have to be enemies?
As much as Karin wanted to pursue the matter, she knew that she was no longer welcome. If she stayed surrounded by the Arrancar any longer, then even Nel's commands wouldn't be able to save her. Still, she put one last sentence in.
"You know we're going to be enemies, right?" Karin furrowed her brows.
Nel simply nodded in acknowledgment.
Glancing at Ichigo and Silent to make sure that they were safe, Karin began channelling her spiritual energy before travelling back to where she had come from.
Watching Karin leave, Nel closed her eyes and began to think.
She had two objectives.
Destroy the Eastern Tower, and locate the woman known as Orihime for the sake of a single Arrancar. It was incredulous now that Nel thought about it.
The notion of going to such length to save the life of a single individual in a war with thousands of casualties.
Then again, it was something that their Lord of Hollows would have done.
One minute passed, then two.
Nel opened her eyes, her reservations and indecisions left buried within her.
'Sorry, Ichigo.'
All that remained was her duty.
She was Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, and the situation was War.
Hueco Mundo vs the Siereitei.
"Charge!"
She gave out the order without hesitation.
Ichigo felt like he was in a dream, one that was more like a nightmare.
Across from him stood a mirror-image of himself, pale white and mouth curved into an unassuming sneer.
'How long are you going to sleep King?'
His pale reflection continued to open and close its mouth, but it didn't matter because Ichigo couldn't hear anything.
'We had a deal King. You put your faith in me, and together we can unleash our full potential. Our primal instincts.'
There was a nagging sense of urgency in his mind that prevented him from thinking about anything else. He vigorously attempted to move his body but it felt like he was traversing through a thick pool of sludge, neither able to swim nor find a suitable purchase.
His aimless wandering caused the reflection of himself he could see off the edge of his vision to frown further.
'We are of one soul and body. I the weapon, and you the vessel. We share our emotions and our views. If you sleep any longer, then the situation outside will become irreversible.'
Ichigo gasped. All of a sudden, the world around him began to shift, revealing a landscape of horizontal skyscrapers. The sun above was blocked by dark clouds, light rain beginning to pour over the world.
The scene was dreary, sad, depressing.
In the midst of it all, stood a man dressed fully in black, soaked to the bones.
'The old man doesn't like the rain. Hurry King.'
Ichigo couldn't take his eyes off of the man, a power stirring from within him. A connection he had with his soul.
Hollow and Shinigami, the two powers seemingly coming into a natural blend, creating a blur.
"C'mon King, I'm not the one who's supposed to be the voice of reason."
His reflection continued to persist until finally there was a reaction.
The man in black had had enough.
"I do not like the rain," the man spoke somberly, turning to address him. "It hides the sun, the light of this world behind the gloom of a bitter cold."
It was if a hand had suddenly grasped fully around Ichigo's body. Thereafter, waves of blue spiritual energy erased any exhaustion and disorientation from Ichigo's mind, lifting him to a state of alertness.
'Around damn time,'
Ichigo heard the voice of his reflection, but he could hardly answer back. The man in black was being forcful, pushing Ichigo's conscious back into a state of awareness with only a single message.
'Stop the rain. To that end, I will lend you my power.'
The white refelction of Ichigo nodded its head to the old man's words.
"We are with you."
The sword and instinct of your soul.
Zangetsu.
By the time Ichigo realized what was going on, his body in the dimension of the Fake Karakura town abruptly sat up, startingly the Arrancar watching over him.
"T-That's not possible, Lady Nel knocked you out," the Arrancar muttered before trying to restrain Ichigo.
Unfortunately, there was a vast difference in strength that only a person of Nel's capabilities would be able to restrain.
Lips twitching, Ichigo drop kicked the Arrancar over the head and put her out of commission.
Head throbbing, Ichigo only had a moment to register the fact that Silent was unconscious beside him, Nel and the other Arrancar nowhere to be seen.
W-What was going on?
Ichigo placed a hand to his head as he recalled his most recent memories before his eyes widened.
Fuck.
His head snapped in the direction of the East Tower, his complexion draining from his face as he saw the carnage ensuing.
Nel was like a War Goddess. With her strength alone, she was combating against another Captain-Class Shinigami, Sajin Komamura while being flanked by Karin, Chad, and Ishida.
Rather than lose the advantage, Nel had already released her centaur form and was ruthlessly piercing through her opposition. On the tip of her lance, up to three bodies were run through like shish-kabobs, the unseated-class Shinigami unable to stop her for even a second.
The other Arrancar Nel led were in fierce battle against the remaining Shinigami, many in their original forms in Hueco Mundo. One of the more prominent Arrancar fought an entire unit of elite Shinigami by himself.
One of Barragan's followers known as Nnoitra Gilga. The half-crescent blades he wielded on four of his arms decimated all in his path in showers of blood and gore.
Scene after scene of violence fell into Ichigo's sight, and he lost it completely when he noticed all the injuries.
Surrounded as Nel was, there's was no way that she could have avoided sustaining any injuries. There was a glaring hole in one of her shoulders, and blood from open lacerations covered her entire body. Karin and the rest were fairly better, with only minor bleeding and bruises, but Ichigo wasn't a fool.
He knew Nel, the type of character she possessed. Nel knew that Karin was his family, she would hold back subconsciously on his behalf. The result?
More and more injuries.
N-Nel you-!
Ichigo clenched his fists and shot forward, the raging of his emotions causing gale-like fluctuation in the air as his spiritual energy grew out of control.
"Enough!" Ichigo yelled, his throat hoarse. "I said THAT'S ENOUGH!"
Ichigo's sudden appearance caused the expression on Nel's face to flicker, more so with Karin, Chad, and Ishida who began to hesitate.
However, they didn't listen.
No one believed that the current conflict could be so easily settled anymore. Nel herself had become the object of hatred for many Shinigami due to the amount of people she had killed to keep the Arrancar under her safe.
To suddenly stop on Ichigo's words alone? Utterly impossible.
Pressing the attack, Sajin engaged Nel and began forcing her into a corner with the aid of the other Shinigami, calling for Karin and the others to support him.
Nel coughed out blood from a hard blow to her stomach.
Left forgotten, Ichigo felt helpless, all his abilities seemingly amounting to nothing.
What was it that he had thought that he could even do?
What was it that he had even wanted to do?
He had never wished to fight in a war to begin with. What he wanted was to keep his precious people safe under all circumstances.
He stared at Nel, at all the Arrancar behind her, and then to Karin and his friends.
He suddenly understood amidst the violence, betrayals, and hardships.
Friend or foe, he didn't give a fucking shit.
He would protect who he damn well wanted to protect!
Spiritual energy began to subconsciously shroud around Ichigo like a thin veil that steadily grew more and more opaque.
He needed power. A power so overwhelming that it couldn't possibly be ignored.
Resonate with the spirit!
Harmonize with the soul!
Two distinct energies began to well up from within his inner world. Hollow and Shinigami, a perfect blend between the two that none other than Ichigo could ever possess. He exhaled, the spiritual energy around him growing rampant in a vortex of blue tinged with red.
He swung out his arm, Zangetsu, the butcher-knife-like sword, instantly drawn into his hand.
An initial release, a Shikai.
It wasn't enough. He needed more, to surpass the previous threshold and burst apart the flood gates.
The aura around him began to sky-rocket, the nearest Shinigami and Arrancar unable to tear their gazes away, a wailing echoing through the air.
'That right, King, that's how it's done!' Call it. Call it! Unleash the limiters.
Zangetsu began to glow in a dim light, the thickness of the sword shrinking to become sleeker.
Ichigo was engulfed by his energy; reality distorting from the sheer pressure of his presence, a word hanging off of the edge of his lips released in a single breath.
"Bankai."
Nel stopped, Karin stopped, everyone stopped.
It was a power that none could ignore.
A figure emerged from the depths, thick swaths of spiritual energy billowing in the wind.
Skin the colour of Ivory.
Tribal marks the colour of crimson.
And a savage visage like none other, the presence of a mask, undistinguishable.
A Monster. A Beast. A Devil.
'What could be seen in their eyes?'
The air trembled in agitation, as if fearful of the being within it.
Of the Demon glaring from the abyss of a seemingly limitless power.
An overbearing howl echoing amidst the battlefield.
The rising of a New Power.