[11th] volume 101: Ascent of the descended

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Eidolon

Murderface Murderface
Sep 23, 2006
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I awoke in darkness. All about me, twisted shapes both animal and human writhed along the barren landscape, their actions showing their predatory, instinctual self. Colors didn't dare reveal themselves here, succumbing to their preservation instinct. All I took in adopted shades of light and dark. Yet, despite this reality devoid of humanity, I found myself at a distinct advantage from my primal kin. While they sought nothing but the satiated state of feasting upon the soul of a hapless mortal, bound by their instinctual needs, I had overcome this obstacle, even as a newly formed creature.

Despite my rational mind, I too felt the need to consume the spiritual energies of others. My first kill was without rational thought, it was driven by the incredible hunger that accompanied the birth of one of my kin. Yet, in the few weeks that have passed since that day, I have yet to strike out with need as my driving motivation. Carefully, I was able to plan my strikes, remembering those who had trespassed against me in my former life. However, I now come to a foreboding obstacle: All those who had wronged me were dead, and I lingered in my twisted home with the need to survive shredding the bounds of my sanity.

Stoic, quiet, and with acute mental resolve, I concocted my plan. I would continue to seek out those mortals who trespassed in life, bestowing upon them a fate they deserved: time in hell. For surely, this place so infested by demons must be hell. A demon born of hate that strives to balance the mortal world of sinners, no more queer a notion had ever passed through my mind before this day.

The ability to sense the spiritual powers of others was a incredibly useful tool. However, my vow to slay only those that committed evil left me in such a position that its uses were finite indeed. Most of those who developed spiritual energy were good souls, not deserving of death, and yet, I could always feel them pulling on my psyche, demanding my attention. I gained little from feasting upon those of corrupted souls, causing my need to consume to remain constant. And with this need came the fact that I would spend most my time in the world of men.

It was not until I encountered my first shinigami that I came to understand the complexity of the life I had chosen. In spite of my dichotomy, those in the black robes who wielded the weapons of malice and war did not discriminate in their eradication. And just as a mortal, my new form feared the result of death. This fear changed to hatred, as all things did for me. The one supreme emotion that overtook and formed the very foundation of all else was hate. In hate I was born, in hate I would rise.

The soul of a death god was unusually sweet, yet, I found myself burdened by regret with each encounter that passed. Reflecting back upon it, I remember this battle well. I remember the lessons it taught me and how it showed me I was no longer a human, but a monster. Until one looks in the mirror, one cannot know how they appear.

Light pierced the heavy cover of clouds that guarded the small European city, nestled between the protective rise of mountains and the abundant life of the river that cut through the fertile ground. In spite of the coming of a technological age, this place held a certain pastoral nostalgia that couldn't be ignored. So potent was this sensation, that the great beast that perched on the river's bed was even given pause from his quest, taking in the verdant landscape. The curse of his new form, a smooth white mask that revealed no emotion, could not betray the feelings that coursed through his spirit as he stood there. In the eyes of the death god who watched him, he could only see a hollow savoring the next kill that lay ahead.

Okutsu sensed the spiritual pressure in the town also, in fact, it was that very knowledge that had caused his assignment here. His commanding officer held a deep compassion for mortals and a keen understanding of hollow motivations. He knew where they would strike, and his division would always be present to stop them. The shinigami enjoyed hunting the predators known as hollows, as there was no greater game to hunt other then a shinigami themselves. And rarely did lower ranked seated officers get dispatched for those jobs. He relished the hunts he was given, and it seemed this one would be a great test. He had quickly learned that the more humanoid the hollow appeared, in addition to compact, the stronger it likely was. Eventually, strength reversed and large sized beasts reached what seemed to be a plateu. They were still strong, hell, they were leathel, but Okutsu knew that ones like the one now before him were the most dangerous, regardless of their apparent spiritual pressures.

Aetomos could sense the shinigami watching him, but he had no idea just what the spiritual pressure suggested. No knowledge of death gods was given to him, and he had none to begin with. Keeping true to his vow, he forced himself to concentrate on the objective: There was a man in this city who was a pedophile. Aetomos had been stalking him for a time, and confirmed his knowledge last evening. He currently held a victim captive, and Aetomos, utilizing a sense greater then vision, waited for them to be separated. He would spare the child seeing his captor slain before him, if he could, but he would not allow the child to be victimized by this foul creature, either.

The zanpakutou slid from the sheath without sound, just as Okutsu knew it would. He compressed the his power in his legs and caused his leg muscles to be fortified enough to perform shunpo. He appeared on the left flank of the beast, rotating his shoulders hard with his hips to generate power at the tip of his blade as it dug through the beast's mask. A quick, clean kill. At least, it should have been. The blade cut through flesh, but the beast's defensive instinct was potent, and a raised arm had been severed beneath the elbow, leaving the beast howling in rage. Though slightly put off that the beast had defended itself, Okutsu brought his weapon to a high guard and initiated a decapitating stroke, seeking to end the fight before it had a chance to begin.

He felt the burst of spiritual pressure before the being appeared beside him, a sword slicing through his flesh just as if one of his kin had done so with a talon. It was only through his previous battles against his monstrous creations that he had developed the reflexes nessecary to ensure his survival against that first destructive assault. Through the pain of his lost arm, Aetomos focused his own spiritual energy and brought forth his defensive power, a smile forming behind the white mask. The blade passed cleanly through his neck, liquid spraying from the force of the impact. Aetomos was not the type of warrior to misuse an opening, thusly he struck out in retaliation. A geyser of water erupting from his right fist to engulf the shinigami before his reiatsu froze it solidly in place. With a agile leap, he backpedaled out of the enemy's reach. The frozen opponent appeared to be a human, dressed in black robes and wielding what seemed to be a katana. Searching the memories of the human who had formed him, Aetomos found no recollection of such a being.

With a voice that hissed like steam, the beast addressed the death god, "Who are you, bold human, to attack me so?"

The act of the hollow hesitating to kill its opponent surprised Okutsu, but even more staggering was the fact this beast spoke. This was a potent enemy, yet it had no knowledge of the shinigami. The prospect of this was terrifying. "Such things matter not to a monster such as you. Know only this, hollow, that your pain ends today. You shall be purified and sent to soul society to live out a good and true afterlife."

Hearing his existence given name struck Aetomos with a profound sense of understanding. Two fold he found the meaning of his given name: hollow. His chest bore a hole, and within him there was an emptiness that could only temporarily be filled by the suffering of others. Hollow indeed.

"Withdraw, I seek only the end of those who weave evil upon this world," Aetomos commanded the shinigami.

"A lie fitting of one of your kind. Allow me to show you the difference between shinigami and hollow, and why your kind shall forever be purified." With that, Okutsu focused his spiritual pressure and chanted the words for a kidou. "The captured begs for freedom, selling their souls for a chance to escape. The cornered man forcing his last hand. Bougyoudo number twenty eight, Banshiissei!"

A moment later, a bright light flashed and the death god stood free of his icy prison. He did not wait for the shock to fade from the hollow, instead he lifted his hand and chanted another incantation. "Fuel the fires of the lost soul, scald the supplicant upon bent knee, hadou number fifty four, waste flame!" Drawing the power of flame to his hand, he leapt forward, closing to hand to hand combat.

Aetomos couldn't fathom the power being manifested against him, it seemed as if they combatant that he faced possessed an ability to channel his reiatsu and create splendid effects. He was aware of this ability in his kin, and knew such manipulation carried a price. Better to fool his opponent into a false sense of confidence before enacting his plan.

As the death god and hollow clashed, Okutsu nimbly wove through the rain of blows Aetomos rained down upon him, suffering only minor bruises from light contacts. However, when the beast blocked his counter attack with the palm of his remaining hand, Okutsu released the flame held within his arm. Traveling in a vibrant flash of power and flame, the blast incinerated the appendage to the shoulder. The beast staggered back as expected, and he drew his zanpakutou in a killing arc through it's torso. However, the result was nothing like what he had foreseen in his mind's eye. The beast's very body froze solid as he struck, trapping his weapon within. It then vaulted back a short distance and bellowed a mighty roar as the river nearby vaporized in an instant, the scalding steam funneled directly over his body. He had been lured into a deadly trap.

Yet, even in the most dire of situation, a well prepared shinigami was not entirely without hope. ""Aggressive and agile, Chiyudo number thirty two, Tangent!" The words ripped hoarsely from this throat as the barrier erected itself in hopes of surviving the blast. He did indeed survive, but only through the barest of margins thanks to his intensive training. He realized that against this opponent, he had no choice but to release his zanpakutou or die.

"Draw forth the shadows, Ethereal," came the command, the entrapped blade filtering outwards in a dark haze. Aetomos burst towards the river, evading the fog out of instinctual drive. The amorphous darkness twined and congealed in the hand of its master, who watched the hollow intently. What his eyes showed him, he could scarcely believe. The water pulled up from the river, twining along the hollow's form and reconstructed the missing appendages. Leaning forward, he directed his blade's power, causing a crescent of dark energy to lash out from behind the beast, ripping across it's back.

Aetomos sensed the attack coming, but only as it formed, giving him no time to react. The sensation was akin to being burnt, yet the malevolent pain that caressed his form was far more sinister and intense then a simple burning, it dissolved his very essence as it drug over his skin. He could not afford many hits from this new weapon, yet he had a child to protect. Deep within him, a hatred for this ignorant being began to fester and swell.

"I cannot allow you to stop me, warrior. Believe as you will, but I will protect this innocent and punish the wicked." The hollow hissed with rage as he spoke to the death god.

"I don't know what twisted logic your are attempting to use on me, but I don't give a **** how you justify yourself to me. You are evil, and the only way to free yourself from that is to purify you. And Ethereal here will do that for you." Okutsu had nothing left to say to his opponent, admirable though he may have been.

The death god concentrated his power within the dark expanse of his weapon, preparing for his final assault, watching the enemy before him and attempting to anticipate his retort. He opened by lashing across the shoulder to hip, hoping the distance that seemed to be between them would disorient his opponent.

However, the range of Ethereal was already revealed to Aetomos, who slid barely away from the frontal assault, the eyes behind the mask closed. He was forced to rely on his spiritual perception, the murky miasma of the blade fooling other senses as it unleashed a potent offensive attack. It would be the very strength of the offense that would allow Aetomos to have a prayer of avoiding it. The lashes were swift and potent, the blade held no encumbrance for the wielder leaving him able to quickly swipe the hungry energy through his field of attack.

It was only a matter of time before the violent lashings of the blade finally found their mark, lancing through the torso of the hollow, who fell down to his knees. However, it was not the beast's time, no matter how eager the shinigami was to cleanse him. The black light of Ethereal retracted, and he lifted it up to pierce the beast's mask. And at that moment, he realized his greatest error while fighting the beast: he had fought him upon the river.

Gazing down at the long talons that pierced through his abdomen, he couldn't help but admire the timing of his foe, holding such an attack until it was almost certain to strike. He was able to mold water, but Okutsu hadn't realized it was to this extent. The spikes withdrew, and it seemed as if by fate his vitals were missed. He staggered forward, lifting his eyes to look upon the beast that had injured him so, only to see it pull its wounded frame into the abyss it had come from.

It was the first time he had ever seen a monster show any form of restraint, let alone compassion.

Yes, I remember well my first encounter with a death god, and to this day I believe it to be one of the greatest. As for the mortal I sought to slay, I did just that. The opponent I had so wounded retreated to recover his wounds, and I cleansed the mortal world of one of its offenders. Not long thereafter, I cleansed my world of another possible taint I might have left behind.

For you see, I had not forgotten that in order to keep my vow, my own creations too would need slain. Indeed, my early strength came from the battles I waged upon my spawn, and this one would be no different. I remember another tale, one most grim. Of when I wove the greatest tradgity in my life.

The creature's mask, white though now tinged with blackness, turned towards Kyuu as he listend to the tale. "Shall I tell you, oh inhabitor of my body?"

The sapphire blue eyes snapped open in the blackness of his bedroom, gazing to the ceiling with a harsh stare. "So you begin to reveal yourself," he spoke to the otherwise unoccupied room. His head turned over his pillow, and he gazed to the long zanpakutou that rested on the wall beside the bed. "So I learn more of myself."
 

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