[12th/V] Week 281: Sprockets, Widgets and Midgets

[Cad]

-or-
The Adventures of Doctor Feelgood and Bionic Boy​

Cad as Masaaki (9th)
Doc as Keiji (9th)​

“Beta waves are in the blue, Alpha is in the green but Theta waves are in the red.”

A young, fair-skinned man leaned in closer to an archaic, beige CRT monitor, the warm glow reflecting off his thin, soft face.

“What about Delta?” a voice in the distance.

“That’s the thing,” the young man responded with worry in his voice, “Delta’s deep red. At least four standard deviations.”

“What?” the voice barked from the background. “Shit!”

Racing footsteps clacked against a cold, stone floor, growing closer to the scientist. An older man in a white lab-coat raced forward, peering down through his nose-teetering bifocals. “Move,” he grunted, pushing the younger man aside, “let me see!”

The elder scientist pressed his rubbery, wrinkled face forward, letting his eyes dart across the screen. The monitor showed a series of brain scans - two-dimensional pictures that seemed to layer out a human brain with a pattern of colors that looked like a heat map.

“What did you do wrong?” the older man demanded, his hanging skin jiggling with anger.

Masaaki moved a slender finger through his fine, silky hair, tucking it behind his ear. The effeminate figure adjusted some bracelets on his wrist, as he peered at the older man.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said matter of factly. “I rarely do.”

“Well something went wrong here...this couldn’t...we would have known-”

His words were interrupted by a simple sound.

“Ah,” Masaaki let out quietly. His attention turned to something in a different direction, he walked over to a door and opened it. Walking into the next room, observed by a two-way mirror, he approached the unconscious subject resting on a simple bed. A man, covered in white blankets and sheets, rested in the center of the room and wore a white cap that had dozens of wires leading to an amplifier.

The attenuate shinigami approached the unaware subject and grabbed a small clip that dangled from the cap. Clipping it on the earlobe and following the end toward the amp, Masaaki pulled the lead and snapped it into another port. Leaving the room and coming back to a pair of eyes following his movement, he sat back down at the desk and, with a coy smile, went back to work.

“Well, what was it?” the other man asked impatiently.

“The ground wasn’t attached....and it was plugged in as the reference.”

“Who did that?” the older man asked, almost waiting for his counterpart to admit fault and take the blame.

Masaaki looked over with gentle eyes and an entertained grin, “You did.”

The senior researcher’s face went red immediately. He furrowed his brow and huffed at the youth, “You did that on purpose! I’m sick of your pompous games, you asshole!”

With those words, the man stormed out, nearly leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. He threw the door open, bouncing it off the wall and causing it to nearly slam shut again.

The solitary reaper turned back to the monitor and reached for the phone. Dialing a single number, he held the handset with three fingers, loosely lifting it past his mouth.

“Hey...I’m going to need some more help.” There was a pause. “What do you think happened?” he said as if he were amused with himself. “Right...well, I don’t care as long as they can follow simple directions. I can’t run this program on my own. Ok. Thanks darlin’, I owe you one.”

He hung up the phone and leaned back in the leather office chair, letting out a sigh and staring at the silent handset.

“It’s hard to find good help in the Ninth.”

Eavesdropping was rude, that much Keiji knew and he wholeheartedly believed in avoiding doing so at all costs. On the other hand there was no denying that it often brought some form of benefit. In this particular case he had heard a very specific experiment being explained to a colleague. A number of keywords grabbed his attention immediately.

“Studying brainwave activity?” Only two words had left the young shinigami’s mouth as he approached the conferring researchers. He adjusted the thick black goggles resting on his face.

“Yes, I’m sending Yukimura-san here to assist-” not another word could leave the woman’s lips.

“That’s incredible! Where’s the...actually, nevermind. Just transmit the workspace identification number to me and I’ll find my way,” the youngster barked. Following recent events navigating the Ninth had become infinitely easier, as had receiving and sending messages of nearly any kind. By the time he’d left the hall the information had already been sent. It only took him somewhere in the realm of three minutes to find the correct room. After knocking on the door twice he pushed it open with both hands.

“Ryuku Keiji here,” he beamed a devilishly toothy grin, “reporting for duty!”

“Well,” the model figure said turning his chair to face the door, “look what we got here!”

Pushing back and then kicking forward, Masaaki bounced to his feet and skipped to the little guy. He playfully pinched his cheek and then let his hand move up to shuffle a mop of brown hair while he circled the boy.

“What a little scientist you are!” The young man suddenly bent down and looked at the thick goggles covering the lad’s eyes. “Well, even if you aren’t useful, you’ll be entertaining to look at.”

Tapping his finger on the tip of the child’s nose, Masaaki shot up and headed toward the observation room door.

“Ok cupcake, here’s the deal: patient from the Fourth. John Doe. Likely to die -” he turned to look at the kind, making sure he was following, “-you need to be able to handle that. These,” he said quickly and pointing to the cap and wires, “are electrodes, each one is placed according to specific regions of the brain. C4, P4, CZ and the like, you understand. They pick up on changes in electrical potential, id est, brain waves.”

The man sped around the patient and equipment, almost as quickly as he rushed through the explanation. His slender finger loosely hung from his palm and pointed to each item he identified.

“Amplifier, volt-ohm meter, electrodes, scrub, desalinated wash, et cetera, et cetera. Anywho, the software breaks down the frequencies and compares the readings to a database of standard deviations, pulled from similar age, sex and handedness.”

The pair scooted around the room and had already made their way to the door again. Opening it and lifting an arm to gesture for the boy to exit first, Masaaki sidestepped him and sprang for the chair again.

“Here,” he said nodding toward the screen and tapping at a keyboard, “is where the data is broken down in real time. Denominations of measure include amplitude, coherence, phase lag and phase shift, amongst others. We can view a 2D image or a 3D image, rendered by a separate set of software.

“You stickin’ with me here?”

By the end of the offensive outburst Keiji’s entire face had turned red. Embarrassment fueled much of the blood that had shot to his face, but just the slightest hint of anger had arisen. Trying to turn a good experiment into a contest of egos never turned out well, but in that case he couldn’t resist. As far as his appearance was concerned he had a bit of a complex. Before he did anything he cleared his throat.

“I must say,” he examined the data on the screen, “this is very interesting,” he noted thoughtfully. Much of the experiment at hand had come together once he saw the parts. A few questions arose but he knew to keep himself at bay until the opportunity presented itself.

“Please,” he falsely gushed, “do go on.”

“Fabulous. Here,” he said sitting down and pointing to a discerned spot on the screen, “is where we can see the active data.”

The wounded man in the observation room shifted slightly on the table, several simple lines on the screen shifting and spiking in correspondence.

“Artifact,” Masaaki said, nodding toward the large spikes. “Brainwaves are measured in microvolts and the amperage is minimal but...when we move” - the words seemed to cue the patient’s response as he twitched again on the table - “a stronger signal goes across the motor strip, interfering with readings. Luckily, though, this software knows how to differentiate and keeps it out of the readings.”

A nurse from the Fourth entered the room, simply walking past the pair and entering the observation room. She walked into their view, crossing the glass and immediately went to the monitor that rested on a cart. Some beeping had started, hardly noticed by the scientist as he explained the set-up, and was addressed by the nurse as she pressed some buttons. Moving to a hanging bag of what might have been saline solution or some other medicines, the nurse looked down at the patient and then back at the glass with a look of concern. She put a hand on the man before walking back out.

“He’s not doing very well...it won’t be long now,” she said softly, addressing Masaaki.

The man acknowledged her, nodding in her direction and then turned in his chair.

“Inquiring minds might ask, ‘Why are we going through so much trouble just to see brainwave activity when someone is injured or dies? We already know what happens.’ Well, that would be true, young Ryuku-bo, but we are interested in something else. Something much more unknown.” The fetching man leaned in closer, “We want to capture the transition of becoming a Hollow.”

Among other things Keiji found Masaaki’s apathetic attitude towards the patient’s impending death distasteful. On the other hand he could not deny his interest in studying such a rare phenomenon. Data on Hollowfication was so scarce that he couldn’t possibly pass up the opportunity. That also meant that he’d have to withstand his impromptu lab partner’s rude mannerisms.

“Are you suggesting that this patient will become a Hollow when he passes? Were that even the case,” he made sure to take enough time to actually breathe, “you aren’t going to gather nearly enough data!” To demonstrate his point he waved emphatically at the data on the monitors.

“You put a few nodes only on his head! Where are the spiriton spectrometers? The high-band reishi coils? How will you account for minute changes in his reiatsu makeup? Never mind that - how are you going to track just what you’ve got here on one monitor!? This entire operation would have required much, MUCH more equipment,” he lectured. To put a cap on his point, he pushed his goggles back up over his eyes with his index finger.

“Budget cuts, cupcake,” the lean man answered simply, turning to look down at the lad. “This was an important matter before the human invaded Soul Society. After that,” he said waving his hand across his throat, gesturing a cut to the neck, “funding was rerouted to rebuilding and defense.”

Truthfully, Masaaki was quite pleased the kid had a brain under that lump of hair, already having assessed the situation through the wordy explanation. It wasn’t everyday that someone, even within the Ninth, could grasp the process they were thrown into.

“Spiriton spectrometer,” he said, pointing to an empty space on the table where dust had settled around a missing piece of equipment. “Coils,” he addressed again, moving his pointed hand to an open palm toward an empty case on the wall. “...And the monitors.” His hand swept over to the desk behind them, several cords lifelessly draped across the empty surface.

“This experiment may not be, strictly speaking, on the books any longer,” the handsome man said lowering his voice. “As you know, after Kaede-Taichou died, the Central Forty-Six made some decisions on our behalf. In all, our focus fell elsewhere - resources were allocated to other areas....but they never got to complete shutting this down, so it’s been a skeleton crew.”

Masaaki spun around in his chair again to face the observation window.

“It’s not a major loss though...they know as well as we do that nothing ever happens,” he said, his voice echoing with disappointment. “They all just die.”

A disappointed grunt rumbled in Keiji’s throat at Masaaki’s dour sentiment.

“Captain is just a title,” he huffed, “our work has always been based on results. If we can provide sufficient proof that this department’s projects are worth funding, you’ll get the equipment you need.” One very specific option occurred to him which he couldn’t shake off. Granted, he’d only take any kind of risk in an emergency situation.

“I digress. Are we ready to monitor the transition?”

Masaaki smiled at the assistant’s emphatic response. Pointing to a chair, the scientist offered a suggestion, acknowledging that they get back to work. “Pull up a chair.”

The soft-toned figure turned back to look through the window, glancing at the monitor after a few moments. While the distant machines beeped and relative quiet fell over the room, Masaaki reached into a drawer and pulled out a file. Sliding it across the table toward Keiji, he pulled a pen from his breast pocket and gave it a quick flurry of clicks.

“Here. The patient’s file and some observation sheets.”

Beeping suddenly increased in the other room, cutting off the man from his next thoughts. Leaning forward to peer through the glass, he let out a sigh and fell back into the chair. Reaching over and pick up the phone again, the man let a finger gently pull his silky, hair behind his ear.

“Hi...please send for the girl again. Yes, I know she has a name...I don’t care. Go ahead and set up the next transfer. This one’s on his way out. Thank youuuuu....” he let the last word linger, playfully.

“Ok,” he said hanging up the phone, “I’m not sure if you’ve seen this much, but the girl was right - he’s about ready, so take whatever notes you want in the mean-time. They’re setting up the next patient for transfer so, once he’s gone, we’ll take lunch or something and come back to hook up the next guy.”

Relaxing his entire stance was simple given how much Keiji disliked negativity. Paperwork was hardly as interesting as hard science, but it was a start. With the folder still in hand, he gently tried to ease into a chair before realizing it hadn’t been set for his height. Briefly, he gasped when it occurred to him that he was about to sit on the open air. Climbing up onto the chair took a few more seconds than it should have but he finally managed to get situated.

After just a few moments the bionic youngster had finished glancing at the file. Absorbed as he was, Masaaki’s continuing rudeness didn’t escape him but he remained stubbornly optimistic. Sighing, he shut the file and dropped it on the dusty table. For all of three seconds he looked at the monitor when the topic of notes came up again.

“I’m as avid a fan of, erm, retro-science as the next immortal twelve-year-old,” he wiped his nose with his thumb as though he were proud of that title, “but there’s a better alternative to burning our retinas with an old CRT monitor. I brought better equipment, anyway.” Rather than explain further, he turned his attention back to the patient. Just a little bit, he was nervous that when he took to observing using his own little secret, he’d get caught.

Masaaki leaned forward and moved the simple mouse and gave it a few clicks. A green line ran across the rows of simple frequency lines, signaling that the software was recording. He adjusted something in the settings and then left them alone.

“Well,” the man said with a sigh, “let’s get our last observations in before this poor creature expires.”

He leaned back and picked up a simple pad and black ink pen. Scribbling away, he started scratching at the paper, heavily focused on whatever he was writing. Meanwhile, the man in the observation room grew visibly more pale. The sweat covering his body glistened on his skin and soaked through the layers of cloth. Seemingly unconscious and unaware of what would be his final moments, his body sparsely twitched and rustled, as if painfully reacting to the fading of life...or something worse.

Blood seeped through the unseen guaze, wrapped around his belly and back, and would soon carry through the other ivory layers of cloth. Masaaki’s eyes momentarily lifted, gazing in the general direction of the room, though he gave no effort to peer through the glass.

“By the way,” he said under his breath, “you are more than welcome to use your own equipment, go poke him with a stick or whatever else you want to do...just be sure to save your energy. The next one in line will likely have more promise than this fellow.”

His eyes went back to the notepad.

Like the planets aligning in a grand display of wondrous celestial symmetry, Keiji’s chance manifested itself with such severity he could scarcely believe it. With Masaaki so focused on his all-important notes he took a moment to go from the enclosed office into the lab. Just one more time he looked back into the observation room. Confident that he wasn’t being watched he finally slid the thick black goggles up onto his forehead.

Finally exposed, the boy’s modified eyes immediately shifted from an inactive to an active state. Subroutine upon subroutine initiated, all originally meant for the function of a typical Athena but irrevocably tied to his eyes, for better or worse. Data of all sorts poured in but there were limits to what he could scan. For each little alteration to reiatsu composition there was a myriad of smaller interactions he was missing, of that he was certain.

Yet again he checked to make sure Masaaki didn’t look, and again he thought himself to be safe. In the midst of the subject’s transition he raised his index finger carefully. Even though the Prometheus could never imitate a high-band reishi coil it could still collect more information about latent spiritual pressure than the Athena alone.

What was once a small child’s outstretched finger shifted until it became a small device resembling an antenna. More data poured in as the experiment continued, until he had become so enthralled with what was being displayed before his eyes he ceased paying attention to anything other than the data.

And bring this here...can’t forget this...

Masaaki’s tongue poked out from the corner of his mouth, an expression on his face that showed he was deep in concentration.

Ah, that’s what I was looking for...and this...and this...

His pen scribbled across the paper. The man tilted his head to the side, halting any other motion, while his ebony-brown hair hung down to the side. After a moment of staring at the paper, he flicked his head back and went back to doodling.

Mmmhmmm...this is coming along nicely!

Meanwhile, the prodding-victim still writhed on the table, possibly fighting to stave off death. The movement came to a stop, though, and a final puff of air passed through the patient’s lips. Another shinigami, gone. The heart monitor let out a solid, uninterrupted beep.

There were oceans of data, sure, but Keiji slowly began to catch on to what he was processing. Each little spiriton was, as ever, completely unique to its owner. However, other than that little detail there didn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing indicating any shift in reishi composition or lifesign feedback had cropped up anywhere in what little he could actually analyze. Having been confronted with such an outlandish experiment he’d left most logic to the proverbial wind. Could it be that he was mislead?

Before the nameless patient had finally passed the precocious scientist had already re-entered Masaaki’s office. All of his little secrets had been re-hidden with the exception of his eyes which in his haste he’d forgotten to cover up with his impassive goggles.

“Pardon me, sir,” he folded his arms across his chest, “but I didn’t detect even the slightest shift in his reishi output. Other than dying, the patient didn’t exhibit any inclination towards turning - what sort of screening process are you performing?” Thought his manner could have suggested otherwise he was more upset about the lack of interesting results than Masaaki’s unfulfilled promise.

The lovely young blonde that been at the receiving end of an earlier conversation burst into the room, before Masaaki could give the lad a retort. His eyes immediately fell to the woman as she shuffled toward the observation room’s door.

“Here,” he said, flopping the small notepad into Keji’s hands, “take notes.”

The slender man, for even as effeminate as he appeared, had his sights set on this girl. Perhaps a rouse, perhaps curiosity or perhaps, even a complete falsehood - either way, he was keen on getting her attention.

“Now tell me,” he said playfully and jumping from his seat, only to toss an arm in front of the girl, “what’s a fine specimen like yourself doing around these parts, hmm?”

The girl, startled by his quick approach, let out a flustered sigh and rolled her eyes, “Now’s not the time.”
Her voice was snappy but still void of hostility or surprise. She rolled beneath his arm and put her hand on the door’s knob.

“Oh, you’re just killing me!” Masaaki exaggeratedly heaved. “We’ve been bored to death in here and when a beautiful doe such as yourself strolls in, you expect me not to notice?” He threw himself in front of the door and lowered his head, looking deeply into the girl’s eyes.

The assistant grabbed at the man’s nipple and gave a quick twist.

“You,” she said through her teeth, “have no respect for the dead!”

With that, the scientist had leapt out of her way, rubbing at his sore chest. The pretty girl let herself into the room, only to turn and see Masaaki once again in pursuit.

“Oh my buttercup-”

The door slammed shut, right in his face.

“Nope!” the girl said, with a smirk on her face. She gave the doorknob a slight twist and ‘click’ confirmed that she had locked him out. Perky and happy to be momentarily free of the pest, she turned on her heels and immediately tended to the deceased.

Masaaki let out a sigh, the huff tossing his silky hair into the air and against the glass window.

In stark contrast to Keiji’s youthful appearance his rising eyebrow wrinkled his forehead. Over the period of eleven seconds it occurred to him that his zealousness had blinded him. It only took two for him to check the notepad in his hands - it was filled with lewd, poorly-sketched drawings of naked women. A heaving sigh of disgust was masked by the sound of the notepad hitting the floor.

“I must say,” the youngster adjusted his goggles, “if your decorum is of any indication, you are better-suited to the...ehm,” he searched for the right word, “talented ranks of the Eleventh.”

Silently, the boy chided himself for having been so easily fooled. In the interest of finding something intellectually stimulating enough to take his mind off the matter, he too approached the exit.

“Whatever you’ve arranged here,” he briefly glanced at the woman in the observation room, “...well, I’m certain it will keep you occupied,” he said as he left.

Between the slight sorrow of being shot down and Keiji’s exit, Masaaki had hardly noticed the spiking wavelengths going across the monitor. The nurse, entirely, unable to see the brainwave activity from within the room, only knew that there was no heartbeat. The body was already beginning to cool. Everything seemed in place.

It wasn’t.

The silk-haired shinigami adjusted his white lab coat, after having bent over to retrieve his tossed notepad.

I thought she looked rather nice, he thought to himself as he straightened the crumpled page. I was sure a boy of his age would enjoy the beauty of a woman’s body....of course, that is unless he’s...

He clicked the pen a few times before playfully putting it between his teeth and bottom lip, considering the thought that had just crossed his curious mind.

“Oh well”, he huffed as he plopped back down into his chair, “there’s time to think about that later.”

Masaaki’s eyes were caught by the flickering red line on his screen. Within a split second, they were wide with bewilderment...perhaps a hopeful terror. It would only take a glance through the dingy window to confirm though.

The nurse had pulled the blanket over the dead man’s face, hiding him from sight. Her back faced the observation room while she tended to putting away the equipment, preparing to take the corpse. In that moment, Masaaki could see that she wasn’t touching the man no had she removed the wires from his scalp. There was only one reason the screen would be showing activity.

Masaaki sprang to his feet. He darted for the door, shaking the handle vigorously.

“You have to get out! Now!” he yelled. Any playfulness in his voice had disappeared entirely.

The nurse’s muffled voice could be heard as she shook her head, refusing to look at him, “Nice try, but I have a job to do... I’ve already told you-”

Masaaki wouldn’t hear what she said next because his attention had been pulled from the girl. The white cloth on the table had fallen to the floor and the motionless body sat upright, mouth hanging open and gray, lifeless eyes staring blankly, right at Masaaki.

Just as the door’s latch was about to click into place, Keiji’s ears were met with the commotion. Leaving Masaaki to his own problems was the immature thing to do - it would give credence to his youthful appearance. It was somewhat tempting to leave, but it was more tempting to satisfy his curiosity by just peeking back in. What he witnessed was enough to pull him back into the room in a flash.

“It’s - he’s - alive! That’s amazing,” he fawned absentmindedly. Rather than realizing just what was standing in the observation lab, his eyes darted to the single monitor that was available to them. Everything he had just said and done, including leaving the room, immediately came down on his head like a ton of bricks. Just one hand wasn’t enough - both hands came up to slap their palms against his face. Briefly, he yelped in pain having accidentally shoved his own goggles into his eye sockets.

“And I MISSED the transition! All of that data,” he trailed off sadly. Whether or not the undying creature in the observation lab was a threat slipped past him. Losing so much data on something as new as reanimating the dead had put him into a spiral of information-obsessed depression.

Masaaki clearly held less composure than the dwarf behind him. A pale wash came over him as he slammed his palm against the glass, frantically.

“Unlock the door,” he screamed. “Unlock the door!”

His free hand moved the damned thing as much as he was able but to no avail. In the moment, one would think a spiritually aware being could easily maneuver such a frail object as a simple door handle but no - the Ninth division wouldn’t have the same status if there were simple, easily-broken door handles in its research facilities. Anyone could get in, if it were that simple and the simple scientist certainly didn’t appreciate it, right then.

A blue-grey light came from the seated corpse, his eyes starting to glow as the room began to shake. The commotion had finally rose to a clamor that caught the nurse’s attention and, as she turned around, she dropped the items in her hand and let out a startled scream.

The slender warrior slammed his shoulder into the door, grunting with each attempt.

The body on the table tossed the white sheet aside, moving itself toward the girl, ripping away the wires that still connected to its scalp. Though he couldn’t see it, the monitor that Masaaki had been looking at moments ago went flat with readings.

A roar came from within the observation room, dark spiritual energy began to fluctuate and the man’s skin began to fuse with darkness.

“Keiji!” the struggling shinigami tried get the boy’s attention. “Do something! Help her!”

There was another scream and the nurses body flew against the observation glass, rocketed with enough force to send a surge of blood bursting from her body, yet it hardly cracked the glass.

It dawned, perhaps too late, on Keiji that the situation was more dire than he had thought. At the sight of blood he was surprised but not repulsed. What mattered was getting through but he suspected that Masaaki didn’t want to see the lab blown to smithereens. In light of how many explosions in the Ninth’s halls for which he’d been personally responsible, he decided entirely against a massive display of force.

“Control doll,” he called with his hands emphatically outstretched. There was a flash of energy, a pulse of reiatsu and a carbon copy of Keiji appeared just a few feet to his left. A wild grin spread across the clone’s face, as if it knew something nobody else did. While one Keiji stood back another took off into a running leap. As if the clone were aware of its artificial nature it did nothing to cover its face as it smashed through the glass. Some of the nurse’s blood was splattered over the console near the window.

With all its might the youthful clone tackled the risen patient. Still, the apparent zombie fought back with its teeth. That alone was enough to cause the clone to ignite, casting the spell that had been stored within. A massive block of water then surrounded the former patient.

Ambient, tainted light radiated through the water, clouding and clearing as the corrupted soul’s transformation took place. The black, ink-like color began soaking into his skin, as if poisoned by a slow moving bile, even seen through the liquid caste. The spirit writhed and roared within the spell, splashing it across the floor as its fluctuating energy pushed and pulled the air in the room.

At that point, Masaaki had pulled himself together enough to scramble over the table and through the shattered window. Jumping down to the floor, covered in glass that crunched beneath his shoes, the scientist looked on in horror as the demi-hollow began to emerge. He could see the chain of fate rattling from the soul’s chest, half of the length it would have normally been.

Masaaki, although terrified to look away, knelt down to the nurse. He grabbed her bloody head, moving his fingers across her neck, frantically trying to see if she was alive. Blood covered her upper body, soaking through her hair and, now, ran down the shinigami’s hands.

The water burst and, with it, came a roar from the tortured soul’s lungs. It shook the purple-haired man to his core, startling him and forcing his attention back to the patient. Masaaki’s eyes flashed to his zanpakuto but he couldn’t - he wouldn’t - take hold. As a flash of dark energy spewed from the undead soul, it lunged forward, ravenously reaching for Masaaki and the girl.

The only thing the shinigami could do was turn his shoulder, trying to shield the woman, and hope he survived.

When one binding failed Keiji set his mind to attempting a new one. It so happened that having one’s mind stored in a literal hard-drive helped when it came to information recall. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew that there were people in danger. If he took even a single second to think about either Masaaki or the nurse, he’d be helplessly fixated on the danger everybody was in, and become overpowered with the fear of the pressure on his shoulders.

“Tangent,” the scientist called out at the top of his lungs. Unsure of the forming spell’s resilience, however, he took in the deepest breath he could.

“Aggressive and agile, bakudou number thirty-two!” Still in mid-flight the barrier spell redoubled in strength just in time to collide with the aberration. Whether or not being slammed into the wall would be enough to get the job done passed under his notice. Shouting out an incantation faster than the spell could connect did wonders to take one’s breath away.

The turning soul was thrown back, knocked into the solid wall, flying past the two on the floor. Masaaki wrapped his arms around the nurse and started to pull her from the floor. As he started to move toward the door, his leg was grabbed, clenched by the pale hand of the grounded patient.

The slender reaper picked his leg, shoving the heel of his shoe into the demi-hollow’s face. It roared out in pain, dark red, almost black, blood splashing against the wall. Masaaki turned and lunged for the door, holding the motionless girl in his arms. He threw a hand out unlock the door, just before throwing it open and heaving himself and the nurse through the door. It closed behind him with a heavy slam as the two fell to the floor.

Masaaki moved the girl’s hair from her face, positioning her to check to see if she was breathing.

“Oh god, is she alive? Is she still alive?!”

The scientist put his hand on her neck, moving it around, unsure of where to check for a pulse.

“Keiji, is she ok?” he asked suddenly. “Use your...youryouryour THING!” Whatever he was referring to, it was obviously something that Keiji hadn’t shared yet.

Before either could continue, though, another primal roar came from the room. The battered, undead patient had lept through the window, pulsing with demonic power, crouching on the table just before lashing out at Keiji.

By the time Keiji could react to the demihollow’s reappearance, it had very nearly cut a gash across his shoulder. Though jolting away so suddenly threatened his concentration, his mouth was already forming the words.

“Keeji,” he called out as the cage appeared around the creature, “halt! Confine to these bars, bakudou number twenty-seven!” Immediately after locking the beast in, the manifested bars’ strength fortified considerably.

Masaaki watched as the boy spoke the words of another spell, just before turning back to the girl. He didn’t need any medical experience to recognize a final, shallow breath and the life fleeing from one’s eyes. His mouth fell open, just a little, and his eyes moved about, trembling almost, looking at her features. Slowly, he rested her head against the cold ground, almost entirely unaware of the commotion that roared behind him.

His body grew hot, burning from the inside, his breath grew more labored, deeper. His hands, covered in blood, sprawled out on the floor and reached for nothing. The shinigami’s lab coat and hair hung down, draping him and the dead nurse. His head lowered, resting against her shoulder and he remained silent.

The turning soul, however, screamed in the background, slashing against the demon magic and reaching between the magic bars, clawing at the air to grab hold of Keiji.

So long as the beast was locked up Keiji had no desire to so much as give it the time of day. There were multiple disasters that needed containing, all of which he couldn’t handle alone.

“Excuse me,” he knelt down next to the grieving scientist, “excuse me,” he prodded again to no effect. Frustrated, he gave up on pleasantries.

“HEY! You need to move, cupcake, because I can’t defibrillate her properly if you’re in the way,” he exclaimed.

Masaaki pulled away, letting the boy tend to the nurse. He pushed back to his knees, his hands leaving bloody streaks on his labcoat. He watched intently as the lad positioned the woman but his attention was soon turned by the growl that came from behind.

The demihollow was starting to pry its way out of the fading cage of kidou. Just as he pulled himself to his feet, the spell disappeared and the soul stumbled forward. The shinigami looked back the pair on the floor, then back at the demihollow. The heat that burned in his gut moved to his legs and, in an instant, the reaper was in a full sprint to tackle the freed soul.

Before the empowered beast could react, Masaaki’s thin frame was on top of him, buried in his midsection. The impact was powerful, more powerful than anyone would have expected, and slammed the creature into the wall. The burst of reiatsu clashed with the demon’s own, dark energy. The wall crumbled in, radiating with cracks from the impact and left a small crater around the two bodies.

The enraged man stepped back, throwing a flurry of punches at the dazed demon. His punches, weak as they were, stung at the patient’s body. The passing soul buried its claws into Masaaki’s shoulders, pushing away.

He grit his teeth and looked over his shoulder at Keji, “Hurry up! I can’t hold this up very long!”

Prior to making what was shaping up to a horrible decision, Keiji removed the goggles from his head. If he was right it meant that his body carried enough alloy, electrical wiring and subroutines left over from the fused devices to make it work. In the event that he was wrong it would mean he was about to pointlessly electrocute his entire body.

“Tsuzuri Raiden,” he finally said. As the electrical charge infused the scientist’s hands he saw readings pop-up in his ocular HUD. To ensure success he activated the subroutines in his hands that governed their new Hephaestus functionality. Judging by the massive surge the maneuver sent through his entire body, he could presume that he’d found the key to success.

“C-clear,” he said sheepishly. Carefully, Keiji put his hands down on the nurse at the same as again activated his bionic hands. An immense electrical blast was then channeled from his arms down into the nurse’s body which in turn had a twofold effect. First, the electrical shock was intense enough to restart the unconscious woman’s heart. Second, it sent the kid-shaped scientist flying back at breakneck speed directly into the demihollow’s gnarled head.

Crimson blood sprayed against the wall, echoing with the crack of the patient’s skull and whatever exoskeleton might have been starting to form from the transformation. Masaaki pulled his face from behind the shield of his arms, both raised over his head, as he narrowly moved out of the way in time to not be crushed, as well.

Blood splatter covered the white sleeves of his lab coat, and his hands trembled. He looked at Keiji as he rolled away from the slumping body. The dark energy had disappeared in an explosion that matched the blood spray. All signs of life left with it and, if there was any left, it would do no good to a creature (or demon) with its head in several pieces.

Seeing that the lad was ok, the purple-haired man turned back to see the nurse, coughing and moving slowly on her back. He moved to her, kneeling over her body, and lifted her head.

“Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

She opened her eyes, blinking slowly. Pulling herself up, she coughed, trying to take deeper breaths.

“It’s ok, take it easy...you just went through hell and back.”

Masaaki stood, bearing the nurses weight as she came to her feet as well.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, looking behind the scientist. “That little boy...is he ok?! Boy, are you ok?!”

Breaking a man’s skull with one’s back was painful. To describe the act of standing up as excruciating may have been an understatement. It felt as though a grown adult’s skull and brain had been crushed to bits against Keiji’s spine.

“Unnnggh,” the boy finally groaned. Despite his apparent recovery, he was hunched over with a hand placed over his back. What he’d done hadn’t truly clicked in his head until he discovered that the back of his robes were caked in a morbid mixture of blood, brain matter and splintered bone. Shocked at the sensation, he yelped. For what little good it did he shook his hand to get the gunk off of it. For a few minutes he’d done his best to act like the war-ready soldier the Gotei assumed he was trained to be. The time for that had passed.

“Disgusting! Euch! Just look at what,” he cut himself short. Merely looking at the grisly display made him sick to his stomach. Blood was one thing, but the idea that the corpse was his doing was another. Sick to his stomach, he faced the duo once again.

“I’ll have you know,” he fought sickness with pride in seeming impervious, “that I am thirty years old, and my name is Keiji, not boy.” Once again he made the mistake of looking back at what he’d done. In light of the sudden rise of his stress level, which dropped just long enough for it to come back with a vengeance he was finding it harder to keep his composure. There was no subroutine in any of the gestalted devices for suppressing nausea or shock.

“And,” he was already woozy by the time he’d turned back, “I am in need of medical attention,” he fainted flat onto his face.

As if queued for an entrance, the main door swung open and a pair of scientists nearly came to a screeching halt when they realized what they were looking at. Masaaki looked over the girl’s shoulder, waving an arm for the men to come in.

“Get them to the Fourth! Hurry!”

The men snapped back into action, one grabbing the blonde from Masaaki’s arms and the other running to Eiji. He picked up the fallen boy and carried him, draped over his arms, through the door, following the shaken nurse. A few others hovered outside the doorway, slowly bringing themselves to enter the room.

“Are you ok?” one man asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Masaaki said, fixing his disheveled hair.

“Are you sur- Holy shit!” The man’s eyes went wide when he saw the gruesome mess against the wall. He, along with several others in lab coats, moved past their fellow scientist, surrounding the bloody corpse.

Masaaki eyed the group as he slowly moved toward the observation room. Wires and machinery lay in ruin, sparks jumping from exposed circuitry, and the fluorescent light overhead flickered. The shinigami’s sleek shoes crunched on broken glass as he slowly walked to the other side of the room. Atop a cabinet, a tiny red light blinked intermittently, coming from a miniscule device. The silver box slipped off with a shallow snap, falling into the man’s hand with little effort. He pressed a finger to the device and it beeped with his touch, turning off the blinking light. Looking back to the gathered crowd, seeing that no one was watching, he slipped the device into the lab coat pocket and made his way out of the room.

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