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[PM] [Hueco Mundo] Week 203: The Only Freedom

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Upon being touched, Picca lost all concentration and had the link between her eye and the vasto lorde's temporarily severed. There was still a lingering connection but for now, her right eye was seeing nothing again. It was for the best after all as she had already garnered a lot of knowledge about the battle field and the hollow itself. The others were all starting to gather in one spot. They must have figured out what was real and what wasn't as well.

Without looking up, she pressed the remaining sleeve of her uniform onto her eyes and nose. Upon removing it, there were multiple splotches of blood on it.

"What is it?" she asked in a shaky voice. She knew the person to be a shinigami since there were no hollows around and the vasto lorde was over there. "Are we going home now?"

Picca put her arm back onto the ground and used it as support to stand up. Her left arm still hurt too much to be of any use. She finally turned around to see who had actually shook her.

[1431]
 
The third seat of the Blood Templars couldn't help but smile at the sweetly innocent question. "I hope so." All of the arrogance and desire to rip the Vasto Lorde's head off had drained from him and all he was wanting right now was to get home and crawl into his bed. He put his arm around the girl to help steady her only now realizing she had a prosthetic leg and was apparently missing the eye she had been covering. He wanted to ask what this young woman had been through but this was neither the time nor the place.

Zak almost stole a glance at the great hollow but averted his gaze at the last moment for fear of being pulled into another illusion. "Don't look at it, come on." He began hauling the girl away. Her frame was so slight to his own that he was practically carrying the girl back toward the shielding.

[157/2946]
 
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Picca was breathing heavily as she walked along the sands. As her mechanical foot approached the sand, a small circular crater appeared. The thin layer of spirit energy around it prevented the metal from touching the ground. She tried not to lean on her fellow shinigami too much. This was not the time to burden others with her problems.

After a deep breath, the woman muttered, "Aye.

She let him lead her back to everyone else, doing her best to keep pace as this was no time to take it slow.

[1522]
 
Movement out of the corner of his eyes caught Haresuno’s attention. Shifting his head towards the movement he spotted a masked shinigami. At first he thought of the horror of finding a vizard among the group, but he was quick to realized that it was cloth. Possibly of the Third, he told himself. They took up the masks of fallen hollows and donned them as trophies, taunting vizards as much as all hollow-kin with their faces hidden like the tortured souls they sought to cleanse.

Though just barely, Haresuno could see the sunken face as he peered into the tired eyes of this young Third member. They all looked tired. Exhausted and stressed, confused and unsure, they all looked for some way out, some way to defeat this monster. But what could be assured against an enemy who fought with illusions?

Captain Makoto seemed to choose a straighter path through the hollow’s control, explaining to one and all what he saw, where as Haresuno was willing to reserve his state of mind if necessary to convince the others. The only thing that kept holding everyone together was the belief that their comrades were really there next to them. Sharing in this horror with them, and with the hope that it was not simply an illusion. Were they actually right, and some of them were nothing more than illusions?

How devastating would it be to find yourself all alone, stranded in the pitiless sands of Hueco Mundo, and you looking down the terrifying maw of your enemy?

Haresuno had to force the shivers to stop. He had stopped the madness long enough to see around him, he too had to have faith.

Brushing past the others he moved over to the masked shinigami, "You’ll want to stay closer to Captain Makoto, but do not huddle up next to him. Be ready to move as needed.”

He then turned back to the crowd as Picca and Zak rejoined them.

Slowly everyone was gathering together. The members of the Eleventh were doing their part to get everyone round up as fast as possible.

"As Captain Matsumara pointed out, this enemy can mess with our minds - it can create illusions. If that’s true then we run a great risk.

"Illusions are ethereal creations which hold no substance aside from our mind. They function very similarly to dreams in the sense that they work best when feeding off our own thoughts and imagination. They are also only real the more you believe in them.” His empty right hand drifted to Tsubaki, "For example,” he told them, "is Captain Mabara truly injured? Or, is she even really here? We have several members of the Eleventh who know her from their own experiences, plus the captains, and even myself. She very well could be a false creation running off of our minds. Any one of us could be an illusion meant to confuse us, or perhaps worse, conceal the vasto lorde.”

He quieted himself long enough to let that creeping thought settle.

"What we need is to first make sure we are all who we claim we are.”

[3198]

Sorry guys, kinda sped up everything.
 
Mitsu had stumbled free of the Eighth division captain's hold and pressed one hand to his head, cringing; if he hadn't had a headache before, Makoto had definitely fixed that.

And now, the redhead realized with wide eyes, the desert had caught fire.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

A blanket of bloody red flames ignited Hueco Mundo's sands and seared the sky, burning hard and bright. He could almost taste the ash in the air already; feel the scorching heat on his skin. The Vasto Lorde rained balas down upon the broken group of shinigami, peppering the ground with wounds.

For a couple of breathtaking, heart-stopping seconds, Mitsu's thought process stalled. His mind blanked, and all he could do was stare, the vivid red of the fire reflected in the mirror of his eyes.

Any second, one of those rapid-fire bullets of energy was going to strike home; any moment, his friends and teammates were going to begin dropping around him, and he couldn't—he couldn't—

MINETO!

"Matsumara-taichou.” He was speaking before the thought had finished forming, and it took another second for his brain to catch up to his mouth. He turned to the captain with furrowed eyebrows. "Captain Matsumara, sorry, but...when did you get here? And what about Captain Tsubaki?” Mitsu couldn't quite keep the nervous suspicion out of his voice. What Uchiharu had said rang clear, and it had always been in Mitsu's nature to be wary. "You two weren't here at first. You had to have...responded to a distress call, right? And the one in charge of communications is...is...”

What was her name? The new First division girl who had been tasked with the communications – the small one with long, dark hair and soft eyes. She had tried to contact Soul Society, right?

"...Yame...nashi...san...”

Again he moved without thinking, turning, scouring the battlefield for the unseated shinigami. Had anyone replied to her? Had her message gone through? Matsumara had told everyone to disregard her announcements, but was he any more reliable right now? He was the one everyone was trusting to see through the hallucinations...but...

Fuck, could he actually trust the two captains?

They saved our asses. Can I afford not to?

Mitsuyo didn't know. He didn't fucking know.

"Wait. Wait.” The shinigami shook his head, confused. "Did you say there are no other hollows on the battlefield except for the Vasto Lorde?...Then what the hell are we doing!?Why are you telling everyone to gather in one spot, right in front of the damn thing? Have you gone crazy? It's pinned down, we're not, but we are fucking outmatched right now!” Mitsu took one step backwards, then another, torn between words and actions. His eyes alighted, briefly, on Ilsa. She was their assigned leader, and he couldn't even bring himself to trust her. Not right now.

"There's absolutely no reason we shouldn't be getting the hell out of here – all of us,” he continued. "You stupid...stubborn...suicidal...fucking martyrs are going to get people killed. We don't need to regroup, or dig our heels in, or go on the defense, or have a nice little chat in front of the freaking Vasto Lorde, we need to leave. Then we can work on figuring out what the hell has been going on.”




[551 / 2986]

NOOOOO
FRICKIN HARE TAKIN MITSU'S FREAKIN RANT AND TURNING IT INTO A CALM, REASONABLE SUGGESTION SO I HAD TO REWORK MY TURN.

HOW DARE YOUUU. /manry tears
 
"No other Hollows?” Ilsa echoed. She took another look at the battlefield. They sure looked real to her. But then, the Espada had looked real too. Was any of this real? Her burns certainly felt genuine, even through the numbing effect of Tenrai Chikaku.

Haresuno’s idea sounded like a good one. Provided, of course, that the Vasto Lorde can’t read our minds. "Okay, I’ll go first.” Turning to her former vice-captain, Ilsa tried to ignore the howling of the illusory Hollows outside Matsumara-taichou’s protective dome. "Part of your training regime for me involved a forest, an assassin with a fixation on Shakespeare, and said assassin attacking me with his shikai.” She couldn’t quite hide a scowl. "Jerk.” Granted, she had deserved some retribution for her little practical joke, but still!

The voice in her head was still singing about a drumming noise, and the drums were still pounding in her ears. What good was it to have a shikai that could pierce illusions if it failed to do so when she really needed it?

I resent that remark! It’s not my fault that this Vasto Lorde’s illusions are too powerful for me! Ilsa winced. Hinometori could be loud when he was angry.

Sorry, sorry. I’m frustrated, scared for my life, and scared for my subordinates’ lives. Cut me some slack here.

Ilsa looked down at her redheaded Fifth Seat. "You’re not the only one who wants to get out of here, Mineto. It takes a while to open a gate from Soul Society to Hueco Mundo, though, and a whole lot of red tape.” She grimaced. Being the Soutaichou’s deputy meant that she got to deal with some of the other divisions’ issues, such as requests for Soul Society-Hueco Mundo transportation. Even though the Third Division had their own Senkaimon with Hueco Mundo access, they still had to submit the proper forms to the Soutaichou’s office every time they used that capability. "So we have to hang on until somebody back home gets their... behind in gear and opens a Senkaimon or us.”


343/2655​
 
Following suit the Templar Captain’s orders, Kyuketsu raced to gather any shinigami he could find. He rounded up those who were in shock, and those still under the demon lord’s maddening ability. The faster they could end this insanity, the better.​

1,191​
 
The trio leapt through the shining gate...and not. Udo slammed face first into a sandy cliff and tumbled back onto the ground. No senkaimon, no medic, no deadweight vice captain by his side. It was all an illusion. Sitting limply in the sand, the shinigami gazed through saddened eyes at the wall of sand before him, the immutability of his trap and the fallacy of his mind. Udo slowly got up and looked across the battle with despair, seeing everyone fighting to their death, playing their parts in this train crash of a battle.

All the sword-mage could do was keep trying, and hope someone would find a way out. In a few bursts of speed he returned to the clustering group of shinigami in time to hear Makoto reveal that the teeming mass of beasts was a figment of imagination.

Bastard better be real... thought the spell-sword.

148/2171
 
"You were fine with me being a fucking martyr in Tokyo, kiddo." Two leonine irises looked over the Captain's shoulder, sending a chilling glare towards the redheaded youth. "Or would you rather have had me let that Menos kill you?" A quick scoff of indignation sealed the comment, not willing or waiting for a challenge to it. Wherever the boy had gained his cheek, it would have been a refreshing sign of consistency if it had remained silent as it did during their last meeting.

"Unless anyone else here can get killed by that thing and get back up I'm sad to say I'm all you've got right now." Keeping her reacquired gaze fixed firmly ahead Tsubaki couldn't help but shake the lingering annoyance of a foe that refused to stand up and fight. Little by little the strength of the Templar Queen's spirit crept back to her, but if the horde that surrounded them was an illusion it wouldn't count for much. The woman's breath persisted in ragged gasps, her sweat and blood caking her skin like paint upon a canvas.

Whatever Haresuno is going to do, I just pray it works. The energies of her Ban Kai were growing more erratic by the second, the unrivaled power straining to continue. I haven't had to stay in this form for so long before...suppose I picked a hell of a time to test my limit. Without breaking her vigil towards the amassed creatures, a more than irate tone cut through the tea-drinking youth.

"Uchiharu, I'm the woman who's going to kill you if you don't get your ass in gear! We didn't stop your damn Taishuu just so you can play philosopher in the middle of a damn battle!"

[289/2,669]
Ms. Ink, we need to exchange words.
ink.jpg

Inorite, that hare bein all calm and shit.
 
"And who exactly is fighting?” Haresuno’s words cut like a knife. "The vasto lorde sits as we squabble, as we fumble, trying to make heads or tails of our own bodies.” He shifted to Mineto, "You want to run, but to where? With who?” Back to Tsubaki, "We hadn’t started my Taishuu, and I do not play anything in this situation.” The adept did not raise his voice, did not show the frustration he was feeling. His own arms were quivering beneath his shihakushou, and he wished for his cloak.

Only decades of not showing his emotions stopped him from looking as distressed as he felt.

"An enemy who only needs to sit back as his enemies tear one another down. Too weak to fight, and too confused to bother see anything.

"It’s effective, and brilliant. Bankai.” Without warning the barren desert of Hueco Mundo sprouted to life.

Plants budded around the group, lined in neat rows and columns like a garden. The plants grew, stems turning into bark, and bark expanding until the sprouts that bloomed just moments ago were all full grown oak trees. Healthy leaves of emerald danced in the night-wind of the desert world. Bringing about a foreign contrast to the desolate world.

Then came yggdrassil. The might tree bloomed as roots too thick to be normal rose up from the ground. From the east, the south, and the west, the tendrils that planted the grand tree shifted the sands and came together. They twisted around one another to form the base, and then let their branches spread out. Casting a redundant shade in the dark world with it’s canopy.

Calmly walking away from the group, Haresuno stopped at the edge of Makoto’s barrier. His face, deepened by the shades so the contours of his face stood out, was the picture of calm worry. He looked back quickly to see everyone was there. "You all will be fine.”

His farewell stated, the adept named his ban kai. "Sekiryoku Houshiki Xiezhi,” and took forth the zanpakuto at his hip. It glowed brilliantly as it grew in length, only then to split off.

Five equal and identical rods cooled to display the bronze-scaled form of his full release.

Then he did something unthinkable.

The five rods collected in a circle at Haresuno’s back, and power flooded out of him as he unleashed Koushou Gekitai without warning.

Next, he sealed the vasto lorde and himself together. Alone.

With one deft swipe of his hand, Haresuno brought his hand down and up. The earth followed the path of his hand like the waves of an ocean to the wind.

The sands around the two beings swirled, rising like a dome over the two of them and enclosing them in darkness.

[3663]

Lol 666 wordcount
Kay, so, let's talk about the douche move Hare just pulled. Everyone together, yes everyone, has just been thrown back 30m while Hare used God Hand to buy y'all some time. He can do this because he was inside Makoto's barrier and there is no warning for his technique. I used all five rods to hit the group collectively.

Attack - Koushou Gekitai (Advanced Repulse): No longer is Gekitai bound to a single direction at a time. At a cost of 1% reiatsu per rod per round, Haresuno imbues the weapons with a charge, able to create a diameter or line force with any number of the rods. Haresuno and Sekiryoku Houshiki Xiezhi are immune to similar effects such as the Shou and Daishou.

Normal gekitai only throws 20 ft but I just stacked 5 1% uses.

I just realized my BK may very well get GM reviewed =/
 
A dull rumble echoed from the eldritch beast -- a laugh, long and low -- thick with conviction and contempt at the young Shinigami's futile actions. Pale eyes shone faintly in the darkness of their shared prison like those of an animal -- just bright enough to know the demon was there. That he was watching. The creature's laugh, however eerie, was followed by a sound far more chilling.

The tearing of fabric. The Vasto Lorde was free of his binding.

When would the attack come? From where? Would the swordsman even be able to perceive it, or would he simply cease to exist -- washed away by the currents of madness the antediluvian Hollow generated.

Black flames burst from the creature's morose lantern once more, casting a paradoxical glow on the earthen walls around them and giving the Shinigami just enough light to see by.

"Interesting..." the dreaded beast boomed, peering at the pale swordsman from across their mutual stockade. Arms still bound by powers far more ancient than the earlier spell, the Vasto Lorde crossed his legs and dropped to the sand.

"Come. Sit. We have...much to discuss."


FINAL: 1194

Well shit
Haresuno sacrificed himself to save you all. Now he gets to have tea time with Prometheus. Shini can do a return collab sans Hare.
 
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Kurohashi prepared himself as the young man approached – not knowing whether or not he might be another illusion. His grip tightened on the zanpakutou’s hilt as the lean man came forward. Instead of an attack, the shinigami simply directed the walker toward the healer. Whether it was a trap or not, Kurohashi realized that he had no other choice but to go forward with trusting those around him.

The group still argued about what to do until the reaper that had suggested the next move suddenly released his Bankai. A forest blossomed around the group just before the young man called forth several pillars of light which erupted and sent the entire group flying back.

The ominous Death God was tossed through the air and came slamming down against a dune, sending a spray of sand into the night air. The plume of debris settled around Kurohashi, leaving barely enough light to see a magical barrier in the distance entomb the man and the Vasto Lorde.

166/1485
 
So this was Haresuno’s bankai. Ilsa shifted her grip on her zanpakutou, freeing her left hand to cast. Why does it have to be such a thick forest? She wanted to see the sky. She needed to see the sky, to fly...

And she was. The sudden attack startled a scream out of her as the force of her former sensei’s bankai launched her into the air. Discipline clamped down on the scream, and reflex had her twisting in midflight to land on her feet; whatever Haresuno had done, the effect was similar to Daishou, a very popular kidou. Sand flew in all directions as her feet slammed into the sand.

"What the hell-" Her intended tirade cut off as she saw what he had done. Oh no. Oh, Mother. Typical, just typical. He had to try and be a hero, sacrifice himself for no reason when there were plenty of other shinigami here! Powerful shinigami! They had three captains, but oh no, Haresuno Uchiharu had to go and cut himself off with the insane Vasto Lorde.

Okay. Calm down. Regroup. First order of business was Matsumara-taichou. He had ordered spellcasters to stay with him, so that was what Ilsa would do. There he is... no, wait, wrong redhead. That one. She ran toward the healer captain, cursing the soft sand as she went. Burns on her hands and face cracked and bled, but Ilsa hardly noticed.

"Captain, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to cast a Tenteikuura and contact the Soutaichou along with that idiot in there.” She stabbed a blistered finger at Haresuno’s smooth dome of sand. "Either our request for a Senkaimon hasn’t got through yet, or there’s something at the other end holding it up.” And Bad Luck-san needed a tongue-lashing for this little stunt. A very loud, thorough tongue-lashing.



306/2961​
 
Picca landed against the upward slope of a white dune. She was still dazed from before and found it hard to stand up again. What was Haresuno planning on doing? There was the obvious answer and one she hoped was very wrong.

All this was supposed to be was a simple scouting mission and yet they were all battered and beaten. Most of it came from fighting each other while the rest had came from fighting illusive enemies. Even the captains had been caught up in it and they were in no condition to do anything. Everything was all caused by that one hollow, that one vasto lorde.

Picca placed her visor back on despite the blood dripping from her ears. The music was still blaring.

Keep visual on Haresuno and the hollow as long as possible. Have one on heat vision. Since I cannae hear you right now or see properly, find some other way to alert me if, if one of them is about to be defeated, Picca ordered. Though she said it in a way that could mean either the vasto lorde or the shinigami, it was just a faint hope that Haresuno had an actual plan.

[1722]
 
"You all will be fine.”

Mitsu didn't like how that sounded.

Regardless of the words or the message or what Uchiharu-san had meant by saying it, Mitsu didn't like the way that sounded at all.

"Sekiryoku Houshiki Xiezhi,” the tall shinigami said, and that was when Mitsu's froze, blank with alarm.

What is—?

The redhead watched Uchiharu's Ban Kai rise, a magnificent tree with boughs that stretched far, far overhead. He stumbled back one step, then another, eyes wide—

And was thrown backwards, off his feet and into the air. He impacted hard in the sand, rolled a ways, and came up in a crouch, trailing sand from his clothes and hair.

What...

"What the hell-" Ilsa snarled from off to one side, completing his thought.

Mitsu picked himself up on shaky legs, and Ataru loitered behind him like a nervous friend; the two scrolls shuddered against a nonexistent breeze. His chest hurt – it hurt far worse than that crash landing accounted for.

The tight, gripping panic was back. He couldn't fucking breathe.

No, no, no, no, no. What did you do? he thought, numbly. What did you fucking do?!

While Ilsa sprinted across the desert towards the captain of the Eighth, shouting the whole way, Mitsu staggered forward. One step. Then another. Eyes wide.

He couldn't fucking breathe. He knew what it was. He always had. He was terrified.

And he was pissed.

"No you fucking don't,” he muttered under his breath. The redhead flickered out of sight, lost in a flash step. He reappeared before the heavy dome of sandstone, and his hair and clothes whipped after him. "No you fucking don't. Hadou twenty-five,” he snarled, his hands curling into fists. "Breaking Palm!”

His fists burning bright with condensed reiatsu, Mitsu cocked an arm back and drove it into the barrier Uchiharu had constructed, hard and knuckles-first.







[295 / 3281]

Mitsuyo Disapproves [-25] =T
 
Yuurei thought that everything was in a haze. There was crimson fire all around, and she was hit by several balas. Now, there was a forest, all around them. Or was it the effect of the Vasto Lorde's power?


"And for the love of God, disregard that annoying voice that keeps yapping about a Senkaimon! There is no, Senkaimon yet."

"You cannot escape your doom, nor will you forestall my revival."

"As Captain Matsumara pointed out, this enemy can mess with our minds - it can create illusions. If that’s true then we run a great risk."

"...Yame...nashi...san...”​


Which of those voices were true? Which of them were not? She thought she heard two more bankai releases. She thought she heard herself shouting about a senkaimon there, too. Then, how sure is she that she wasn't an illusion? If she seemingly disappeared, then why didn't anyone see the real Yuurei? Where did her body go off to?

"What we need is to first make sure we are all who we claim we are.”​
The problem is, with all that happened, she wasn't even so sure of herself. All of these confused her, but she had no time to think about it now.

The weight of all the reiatsu seemingly lightened for a bit, then pressed down on her once more. At least, she was now a bit used to it. At least, she could stand straight and walk. If she could only have full domination on her head, she might actually be able to fight. Still a little dizzy, but manageable. For a moment, she found it best to walk nearer to those she thought were real. Mitsuyo was one, she was almost sure of it. Yuurei looked around, hoping to see the bright light of the Senkaimon somewhere in the distance so they could retreat. But much to her disappointment, there was none. Most of them are probably drained by now, and they needed to go.


“Captain, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to cast a Tenteikuura and contact the Soutaichou along with that idiot in there.”​


What, we had contact outside Seireitei all along? I thought that's what we needed the communicator for... Oh well, she thought, the voice of her vice captain drifting through the air. Wait wait wait! Does it work?

Like a magical eureka moment, her eyes lit up. If there was anything she could do to prove that she was real, it was this. Instinctively, she checked for the bandoliere that should be hanging on her back and ran towards the amazonian blonde. Well, Yuurei just assumed that she was real. Yuurei trusted her.

"Maruyama-fukutaichou!" Yuurei called, hoping that she got the name correct. "We still have the communicator here, if we need to send another request for the Senkaimon," the arcanist beamed, her breathing a little heavy. "I still don't know whether they received it clear and well though, you see... I didn't get a reply when I tried to contact them earlier... I just assumed that it went through..."


[ 411 | 2058 ]​
 
Beneath Mitsuyo's kidou-enhanced blow, the dome of sandstone cracked. Hairline fractures spread out from the impact of the boy's fist, the initial dent growing deeper, the stone falling inward... but not to herald the successful rescue of the ill-fated martyr. From those spreading cracks came ebon flames, spewing out, blackening the night surrounding them. The cracks continued to spread, and the flames grew higher, burning with a mixture of heat and dread, both sensations washing over those nearest to the flames. They climbed skyward, a towering inferno of blackness.

Amid the flames, they could see shapes moving: empty eye sockets set in empty skulls, dozens of them, full of malice.

Death itself stared at the shinigami from those hollow sockets. The clamoring flames grew darker still, washing away all light and leaving them all in complete blackness. From that void came the mad wails of the damned, the hellish shrieks of the demons.

Even in that lightless place, they could see them: embodiments of the insanity that permeated these sands, the disembodied skulls surrounded in black flames shrieked toward the shinigami, frozen in terror and dread, feet locked down to the sand.

Now their screams joined the rest, screams of denial, screams of rage, screams of agony. One by one, each shinigami felt the pain as the blackened skulls ripped through their chests, boring holes straight through their souls and burning there, smoldering. One by one, they fell: Yuurei, the weakest among them; Mitsuyo and Kyuto, holding hands; Zakeriah, Kurohashi, Griffin, Seitaro, empty-handed and hopeless; Kyuketsu and Ryoujin, swords gripped tight even in defeat; Udo, Picca, and Ilsa, clinging hopelessly to their zanpakuto spirits; Makoto, Tsubaki, Kaede, Senesati... even the four captains dropped to the sands, lifeless. Every shinigami that set foot on those cursed sands...

Darkness swallowed them all.

[300/2504] Final
 
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