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[PM] [???] Week 276: God is dead

He could feel it seeping up within him. That desperate, clawing madness that ate and tore through his senses. Black fire crept skywards, creeping upwards in his vision only to retreat as he blinked to attempts its climb anew.

Arano had since diverted his attention from the freshly birthed Adjuchas, his mind drawn to the Mystic Captain, I never said she was to do it. I need only know the means.

Kairososhi blanketed outwards once more, addressing Zakki. The artefact I took off the corpse of the hollow Ulchalothe spoke to me in its usage. I know we each took our own, I need to know what you have.

His voice couldn't carry, and so the static-like transmissions carried to all who occupied the crater - excluding the Vasto Lorde himself. He's toying with us - use this time to plan. Communicate your knowledge to Lilith, she shall pass any information onto me.

The darkness continued to climb ever higher, attempting to drown him in its visage as he blinked furiously to dismiss the falsities. Turning to keep track of three freshly birthed hollows - one of which had long since vanished into the distance - he waited for his opportune moment.

[ 202 / 1714 ]
 
While contemplating his next move against this creation of the being named Prometheus, two observations struck Zakki. The first was the tickle in his mind that seemed to be growing more strongly as the presence of the bandaged being came closer. It was like the times Emily had tried to seize his mind and drive him insane with hallucinations and twisted thoughts. The second was that Arano was getting into his head again. Trying to understand the thought took a bit over the mental static but eventually it was clear and, trying his best to concentrate and respond, he thought, "I got this strange black, thorned fruit. I hope you've got some idea of what it does and it better be something that helps get us out of all this shit we're in."

His keen emerald eyes never left the last place he saw the attacking White Corona but in between the rising darkness and the flash of energy he'd created he had lost sight of it. This was definitely not turning out in any way Zakki was comfortable with but it was too late to do anything but keep moving forward.

[192/819]
 
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Still drowned in the fires of warfare, the electrifying madness which swelled within the captain only grew with wretched candor. He was belligerent even in the face of true despair, unyielding to the dawn of chaos possessing the city. With Prometheus’ miasma flowing and pulsing in his veins, Kyuketsu’s notion of insanity was far less attached to fear, and more directed to the choices of morality and loyalty. He spiraled further down the rabbit hole, questioning his alignment with every turn at every waking second. Voices run rampant inside him, familiar and unfamiliar tones suggesting courses, paths, and futures that hoped to sate the vast emptiness that now ruled his soul.

His right eye still bled out, crying tears of rich scarlet unnatural given his current state. He glanced waywardly at the husk known as Emptybones, then to its creator... the ancient fiend which now drew closer to the still-wounded captains.

Though many voices and souls tainted the vista, he could hear only one—that of the Vasto Lorde’s.

‘Run,’ it said.

‘Doomed,’ it declared.

A ‘god,’ it called itself.

With such bold words, many would cower and flee, most would tremble and shudder. Yet even as he was overwhelmed and outgunned, Kyuketsu’s madness—Prometheus’ blessing—rallied his soul for an altogether different purpose. The man’s instincts screamed the same repetitive symphony, undisturbed... unchanging.

With a pealing descent, the Eleventh’s Commander flashed before Emptybones, swords flourished with the intent to maraud and plunder. Surgical bliss, artisan strokes worthy of a blade-fueled renaissance devoured the revived demon, slicing and tearing at whatever flesh was seen in plain view. Molten blaze took up one of the shinigami’s swords, striking the Menos hellion backwards towards its master.

“I heard somewhere once before that all people are imitation of apes.” The line of red scarring his face dripped to his jaw. “And that all gods... are just imitations of people. I wonder how true that is here.”

Kyuketsu clenched his blades with a tighter grasp, his palms practically glued to their hilts.

“I’ve read about the Emptybones that once terrorized the sands of Hueco Mundo... how he instilled dread on all that said his name. So now I wonder... what the fuck is this? This husk neither talks nor grunts, there’s no coldness in its eyes... no malignant intensity to justify its existence. You’re a fucking fake. An imitation.”

He roared for the Dread Lord, the poison pumping deeper into his system. “Your offer to me earlier... is this cheap slapstick of a monster your definition of power!!? It’s pathetic! At this moment I am stronger than the other captains, far more capable compared to them and their current state. I dare say, even more capable than the Captain Commander.”

The distance between him and Prometheus was grueling... far beyond even the space-warping reach of his Ban Kai. But that didn’t stop him.

“So I ask you now, Prometheus.” He chucked his sword for the east, uncaring whether it reaches or not. “Why do you distance yourself from us? From me!?”


1,560​
 
Reckless, but it will demand attention. Theron's eyes followed the blade as it sped towards the king of Hollows. Such little time to act, so much time to think.

" . . . get off the floor Kyuu."

". . . this is how I pay for my sins."

" . . . I strike his enemies how he can not."

Nothing has changed. I remain a coward, a failure. The crippled shinigami reached, not with his arm, but with his mind for Harbinger. The scythe stirred, bone links extending from the base. Body broken but convictions unwavering, the battered soul's resolve drew to iron; trusting in the whole of himself and casting aside the slippery grip of madness.

With perfect clarity, the felled warrior watched his enemy and the captain's blade. Each slight movement caused for correction on his own attack, willing the scythe blade to strike his foe from the blind spot, its sole purpose: to crush the mask of the Gotei's most potent enemy.

This is a good death.
 
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...RUN AWAY...!

​
His own voice drummed against his ears in a shameful wail for everyone to hear. Frightened and frail, it screeched like some broken creature - a shade of the Founder-Captain given voice.

It drove any sense of planning and fighting back from his mind.

Haresuno’s fingers dug into the hard, rocky, ground. But I..., his voice quietly defied, ...I....

...Run.
​

“Tch.” Taking his free hand, Haresuno pressed it up against the tiger and tried to rise. “I should thank you to, young miss,” he said shakily, “and tell you that this is enough. Because I....”

Shaking something fierce, the normally steady captain looked down at his wound. It was still bad enough that some of the blood was slowly seeping through, but the pain was tolerable now. How were they supposed to fight Prometheus?

Weakened in more ways than one... hardly any of them able to lift a finger to cast a spell....

Was this going to be the end?

Before the human could protest - before she could sic her tigers on him again and hold him down - Haresuno picked up Xiezhi and cast a worried glance to Lilith.

Burning azure met stormy grey for a brief second, and his friend smiled at him all warm and comforting like he she knew how it all would end. Then his eyes rolled over to Nana, just as quick, catching her brilliant blue as he steadily came to his feet.

He didn’t care how weak and pale he must have looked - how much dread he felt or if it showed on his face. For Nana, though, she still looked sturdy and unwavering. Certainly more resolved and collected than he while Prometheus was so close.

A single word escaped him - then - shaky and distant amid the clamor of battle behind him. It pained him, and tore him inside and out as soon as it fell from his lips.

“Run.”

​
And then they were gone. A passing sigh on the winds of battle, no longer seen, both Haresuno and Nana were just gone.

Their comrades left to fight.

Their friends left to die.​
Just gone.

And all in the blink of an eye.
​
[1400]
 
A flash of silver appeared in front of Theron's outstretched arm. First came the cold, metallic haft of Karino Yadori no Kamayari, followed by the crouching form of Sayis Inuzuri, hand on the spear.

The Soutaichou didn't spare a word or even a glance at the fallen vizard. He rose, wearied and weak but determined. The spear remained there, under Theron's fingertips; Sayis strode ahead, the released blade of Karil held out before him.

Perhaps some madness had reached him up on the ridge -- why else would he now be down there in the crater? -- but it was nothing compared to what assaulted his mind now. It was subtle, but powerful. Sayis looked around, he saw his allies, saw the Vasto Lorde.

Within the blade of Karil, though, Sayis understood the true reflections and where his friends truly stood.

He could not trust to any plans, could not trust himself to act within his right mind. Sayis' eyes remained on the reflections present in his sword, the only things he could trust. There were no words to share because he doubted they would be heard as intended this close to the progenitor of insanity.

On the verge of collapse, but no less skilled for it, Sayis dashed forward, haori billowing out as he attacked!

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​

Movement - darting in his eyes, flashing past him in bursts of energy that exploded before his mismatched eyes. Then he, too, was moving. Flowing with the shadows that raced and darted in the firelight.

Arano could feel the muscles burn, the bones creak beneath the chattering ferocity of madness. Every synapse in his brain erupting in danger - his mind caving inwards as he forced himself to rely on his very instinct. Words screamed past his ears, drawling in instructions that garbled and warped in the static of his mind. The bone. The Vasto Lorde. Hueco Mundo.

His vision distorted - crashing around him as darkness flashed through his sight like stygian fireworks. A flash of silver, gleaming through the mire. Sayis - the blade, the spear and the blade. He felt rage blossom in him, the adrenaline of Rei Genkai keeping that gleam within his view.

The teen appeared in a flash, a roar of thunder accompanying the ringing steel that bore upon the hollow. In an instant, the Advent's power had welled around him. Shadows soared and crashed - the cocktail of his veins culminating in an agony so pure his vision was reduced to the splashes of black and white that the Vasto Lorde had inflicted upon him.

Yet, the darkness was his to command, Prometheus would learn this.​

Arching out of his chest, a vague sense of disgust and shock passing through the Soutaichou as a lance of crimson shadow leapt to new life from the Director's chest. Ripping it free as the hollow turned, hardly affected by the show of power.

Arano's fist struck the ground and the dark was no longer in his mind but all about him. Swallowing them all whole - the Soutaichou, the Kenpachi, the Vasto Lorde, and the Advent alike. A word without source flittered through the void he had created. A word in his voice. "Sefuchi."

In an instant, the darkness had locked around the Dread Lord - winding tendrils that attempted to slow it further. The scythe, caught halfway in its blow, slowed to an agonizing crawl. Now, and only now, would they have their chance to undo what had been wrought on Earth. Kairososhi was a mess of filtered madness and static - screaming in his ears.

Arano knew, though. He knew and he waited. Waited for the shinigami to either fulfill this plan... or doom them all.​

[ 405 / 2119 ]
 
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When the two captains exited Nana’s Gyakuuryu, Haresuno was the only one to stumble.

He hit the ground with a bitter hiss of pain as his gut flared up suddenly. But just as quick as it had come, the Founder-Captain dug up that pain and threw it behind a closed door for later.

“Do you really think this will work, Uchiharu-san?” Nana stood just a few steps away, her eyes casually scanning the area around them as she held tight Amaterasu-Oomikami in her right and the legendary Ama-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi in the other. Despite her clothes being tattered and torn from the battle with Theron, Nana herself looked unharmed. And as thankful as he was for that, Haresuno felt a stab of jealousy that she could do that.

Grunting past the pain, Haresuno threw back another concerned glance.

Run away.
​
Move forward.

Giving a weak smile to Nana, Haresuno turned his own eyes to the ground where his hands lay. “Of course,” he replied matter-of-factly. “After all, you’ve all got me.” With Xiezhi set down next to him, Haresuno reached into his uniform and produced his tenriku and set the small trowel’s edge into the dirt. He closed his eyes as he began to focus his will through his left hand, and his brow furrowed in concentration.

All around Haresuno, the ground rippled and shook like a pond disturbed by a pebble. Others wouldn’t notice it - aside from Haresuno, only Nana could feel the faint rippling underneath them - and all the better as the ground gave away and the two captains sunk down into the ground.

[1666]
 
For the first time since their meeting, the Dread Lord took notice of the gnat that had been so noisily buzzing around him. As the creeping blackness engulfed his pallid form, before all light and sense was snuffed out by the boy's power, the Dread Lord peered towards forsaken creature.

A Human.

"What have we here?" the Dread Lord boomed in an amused tone, twisting and contorting against the clutching tendrils that held him. "One who has been touched by madness."

From the blackness, a quintet of pale claws reached out towards the boy, grasping at his limbs and scratching at his flesh. Dishevelled, skeletal hands pulled at Arano's body, tearing and slicing his flesh with surgical precision. The sensation was so familiar to the boy he would've been a fool to have forgotten it.

A chuckle broke the silence; a long, prideful guffaw, full of malice and contempt for the young human. The sound, however, was not born of the Dread Lord. No, Arano knew that sickening voice all too well.

From the blackness strode a man visible only to the boy, seemingly unhindered by the obsidian mire that surrounded them. He was taller than a person should be, and moved with an irregular, almost forced gait. A pale cloak fell loosely from his form, split only by the roots of the grisly appendages that grasped at the human boy.

A hallucination, to be sure, but one that would no doubt shake the human to his core.

Letting out a satisfied grunt, the antediluvian beast waited. The blade of Karil slid through the blackness towards Prometheus' bound form -- its progress slowed by the power of the human. Still, held by the darkness, the creature could only bide his time as the weapon slowly arced its way towards his flesh.

Outside however, the gears had already begun to turn. The Dread Lord's plan had been set in motion.

Three beasts; each a facsimilie of eldritch horrors as ancient as their master -- three seeds of madness willed into being. Through them, the beast spoke, goading the duelist captain.

"Foolish boy," the bisected shell of Emptybones hissed, tendrils of black liquid oozing from its wounds like so much blood, slowly stitching the creature back together. "You are marred by weakness. You reek of cowardice. Why do you resist? Why do you shackle yourself with petty morals and ideals laid down by those you claim to be lesser than yourself?"

Shakily, the creature raised a hooked claw to the swordsman, pressing a snakelike finger to his forehead. Instantly, the duelist captain's mind was flooded with visions of hell -- the last stand of beings far more ancient than himself -- each legends in their own right. Tanaka, Gawa, Marisen, Liufei, Miroti, Seiji. One by one, the creature forced the shinigami to witness the fall of heroes he'd only seen in books, fixtures of the Gotei's history. Beings whom Kyuketsu's power held naught but a candle.

And one by one, he watched them die.

In the end, they had all been bested by the power of Prometheus' allies. And yet they too had fallen. What then, did that say about the Dread Lord? The last of the ancients, the one left standing after the Great Hollow War...

The message was clear.

"You desire...strength," the husk of Emptybones rasped, pulling its digit away from the captain. "You seek power greater than any before you. You are a creature of instinct, of madness. Accept my offering, young one."

"Or you will die like the rest."

Stuff


So this turn's getting big. I'm going to split up the Prometheus action here and let Arano/Kyuketsu/Sayis/Theron react to what's happened. Once that's sorted, I'll post the second half to address the rest of y'all. Just didn't want to kill the flow.

 
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The hands scratched and tore - ripping and pulling and piercing and experimenting and no. The man was pale, fresh bandages wrapped about his form as sapphire hair dangled from between the edges. Icy eyes glared into his soul - full of promise and pain and inevitability and no no no.

Arano's jaw clenched. This wasn't real. It wasn't. Real. He strode through the darkness - bones creaking and clattering in his mind as Rei Genkai dulled the pain of the skeletal onslaught to a mute annoyance in the back of his mind.

The laugh echoed back at the visage - Kurohi's specter dismissed in his mind even as the man contorted and warped. Pale representations of himself stared back from all angles, the madness suffocating his sight, his hearing, everything. Days of blood and bone, days of darkness and despair. Yet they could not touch him.

Not now, not ever again. As the power of the shinigami dwindled and petered in strength - Arano's soared yet more!

Salient flame glimmered in his crimson eye. He could see, through the haze and ferocity of the madness that clamored in his very soul, that same silver gleam. The darkness snuffed out all, but the darkness belonged to Arano.

They roared and swelled, the darkness closing about the Vasto Lorde. The tendrils tightened their grasp, reminding him of his present bindings. Then, in that darkness - the human dared attempt to scratch God.

He blurred through the dome, unhindered by its suffocating power. The blade of Karil, slowed to a meager crawl behind him, was ignored. The bloody falsities tore at him, lashing out with claws and spears and power that he had long abandoned. Their chattering in his ears reminding him, always reminding, of his mistakes and his weakness and his hopelessness and stop it!

Internalize sent a shockwave through the dome, its liquid darkness rippling and contorting around the boy. Arano had punched God.​

[ 324 / 2443 ]
 
The redhead’s mind was filled with her Captain’s voice, retelling a report given her by Haresuno. There was apprehension in her tone as she did, but Adelaide could swear a part of her Captain was driven to greater resolve by that apprehension, or at the least dodged the fear as one might dodge an arrow or bullet – with significant effort but a certain something that made the task seem altogether effortless.

The voice kept talking as something unusual happened. The way the world fell away and was replaced, it was like the Mystic’s power of relocation had activated itself. Suddenly she wasn’t watching a dark god crawl from an erupting volcano; she was standing in an underground chamber somewhere beneath a thriving city below. The area was beautiful, the natural features of a cavern melding with beautiful stone architecture and brilliant stained glass to form what seemed like a beautiful underground town square. Around her stood a small church, a beautiful fountain with flowing water and some small areas for people to congregate ant talk. Unlike the last time Adelaide had visited a Sanctuary of the Lowly Outcasts, there were no people here. No one seemed to visit the lonesome church, no one seemed to congregate, or sit by the gentle waters of the fountain. This Sanctuary looked different than the other one she had been to, but its purpose was undeniably the same. She could feel it buzzing in the air, the same sensation she had felt back then. Even without patrons, the Sanctuary provided peace.

“Have you decided, Miss Pierce,” asked a voice that made a chill run up the lieutenant’s spine, “under what circumstances you would kill to save a life?”

She didn’t want to turn around. She held tightly to her scythe in a spike of anxiety and almost lanced out at him with the devastation of Hellfire. Almost. Something made her suspect what she heard, something made her afraid of harming an innocent person. Something in the back of her mind tugged at her, asking for attention. So, instead of lighting the speaker on fire, she slowly turned.

The man was certainly taller than her, wearing dark aviator shades over his eyes, and his brown hair was short and slicked back with product. From his leather shoes to his business slacks to his starched shirt and trench coat there wasn’t a single stitch that wasn’t the crispest white of new-fallen snow. The redhead’s knuckles matched the man’s clothes as her emerald eyes narrowed, “Ashikaga Isogu.”

“I suppose that means this is the fourth time we’ve met, doesn’t it?” he asked, and then with mild hesitation added, with a smile tugging at his lips, “No, the fifth.”

“But who’s counting?” Adelaide was. She was one win for three losses with Isogu, and even that win had been something of a pyric victory. Hadn’t he died, though? In Dunan? She remembered Lilith saying he had died.

Lilith. Something about Lilith was very important right now. What was it?

He slowly, deliberately, took off his aviators and folded them, leaving his eyes closed after doing so preventing Adelaide from seeing them. The expression looked more contemplative than defiant or anything of the sort, of course, but the effect was the same. “There’s a certain tragedy in our conflict,” began Fukushin. “We both want the same things. In a world of plenty we both want to eliminate needs and wants. But when I ask myself if I would kill to save a life, the question is moral. What is it for you, Lieutenant? Mathematical?”

... thinks if you’re exposed too long Prometheus can mold you into a Scion ...

Prometheus. Prometheus? Prometheus!

Adelaide grabbed on to Lilith’s voice as if it were a rope and her mind were her clasped hands. She pulled hard on that thought and literally used it to drag herself back to the peak, back to where she stood. But madness is a horrible thing – Adelaide’s mind hadn’t come alone. Standing beside her on the peak was an entity only Adelaide could perceive. A man she named Isogu. Standing beside Adelaide as she watched Prometheus pick his new targets was the Man in White, Fukushin.
700 Words
1952 Total​
 
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A millennia’s worth of life and loss, years of constant turmoil and endless death. There, now laid bare before him, was a revelation once hidden behind lies. The legacy in which Kyuketsu stood underneath was but a falsehood, a petty, baseless tale spun by misconstruing tongues. The ancient tapestry behind the Gotei’s captainships all spiraled into a repeating cycle, a redundant distortion which halted inevitably at one unchanging pitfall: death.

As the unholy visions wrought by the demon king scarred his mind, the screams only grew louder... fiercer. Men and women who forged the foundation of the Soul Society, individuals whose powers were considered peerless as they were timeless... all fell under the same pathetic outcome.

Expired. Exterminated. Extinct.

Was this the path that he would follow? The same road that he would venture, fighting desperately in a struggle that would end only in a laughable ruin? Kyuketsu was fearless. His soul carried no fright, no trepidation even in the midst of terror incarnate. Yet there, with his eyes opened (by a Hollow, no less), true and absolute horror wracked his senses. His greatest and only fear, it seemed, was to end up becoming just another victim of fate. The purpose of his fight, as made abundantly clear by the Dread Lord, was to rebel against what was self-evident... to deny the march of reality itself.

He would not die here. Not now when the bells of destiny chimed madly in his ears.

His entire body shook, and yet fire still spewed from his core. Trembling in utter confusion, the scarlet inferno taking hold of his form morphed into shape, influenced undeniably by the monster’s touch. Surrounding the captain was an armor of putrid reishi borne from Prometheus, rising to form an image of a massive Gashadokuro. How fitting, as it would appear Kyuketsu’s hunger would rule him completely.

“I will die...” His voice was labored and tense. “...but not today. This cycle of expiration... I won’t be part of it. I refuse to be part of it.”

He snatched a decayed claw from the figure of Emptybones, clasping it tightly in a gesture far too troubling to the sight of all those present. A pact, a covenant wrought by the purest essence of insanity. The darkness seeped into him, corrupting the innermost cesspits of his being. As it could continue further, a sliver of regret held him back... a tiny fragment which held the man from completely falling into the abyss. A lynchpin, so to speak.

Hazel eyes, angelic eyes. An innocent, purifying smile. It was brief, though enough to pull him up. A single afterthought... a minute, fleeting image of the one person in the entire cosmos that owned whatever heart he possessed. Her voice beckoned him back, pleaded with tender cries to come back to her.

“...Knowing that you’re tormented like that just breaks my heart.
I’ve seen how the look in your eyes change, and it’s as if the man I knew... vanishes completely.
You’ll lose yourself... and that’s what I fear the most.”​
I’m sorry.

Kyuketsu tugged at the demon’s arm, pulling the facsimile down with such force that its stance was broken entirely. Breaking away, the captain drove his zanpakutou virulently for Emptybones’ figure, sending bouts of fission and rage to consume the sacrilegious creation. He regained his senses, resumed control over the corporeal shell that was his own body. And yet, even as he retaliated, even as he spaced away and broke the ‘pact,’ it seemed unbeknownst to all that the blackness had already festered into maturity. The damage... had already been done.

Raptorial gaze born again, he glared down the husk... watching, observing. Fangs gnashed, he brandished his blade and swung for the beast. And again. And again. And again. Over and over, he swung at the carcass without the slightest bit of rhyme or reason.

Attacking the figure wildly without pause, a gasped, pleading voice called out from Kyuketsu.

“Someone... anyone... stopme.”​


2,222​


who's side is he on now? who the fuck knows.
 
They are all falling apart. Encapsulated in the gulf of shadow, unable to shift from his perch, the once Kenpachi observed warriors strong in mind or body being torn to pieces by the power of the Vastro Lorde. But there was only one thing he could do.

Bankai was not it. Should he try to release his full power, the strain of it would certainly end his life before its own power could heal him. The answer was all around him, in the madness of Prometheus that drained sanity and sapped the resolve of his joint attackers, in the eddies of shadow that had bound all of their attacks together. The Vastro Lorde was ignoring him, underestimating him.

Alone, Theron fought against the beast and its legion, and was utterly defeated. This time, he would fight with some of the most powerful, be it in body or spirit, allies that he could hope for.

His will unfaltering, the beast's sway repelled by utter confidence in one's on self during such times as just this, the fallen captain used the most essential of his abilities.

Harbinger's scythe grew, it seemed in the wave of darkness, leaner, the edge more pronounced, and railing against the void of light an incandescent golden hue enveloped the cutting edge.

I will cut through reality itself to find you, Vastro Lorde.

And so he did. While all else was brought to a near crawl, Harbinger alone moved in motions unsuitable for the laws of physics and nature. Its serpentine arc to most, a simple auric blur as it cleaved towards Madness itself with all the speed and proficiency afforded to Theron's thousands of years experience in battle.
 
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Through the haze of madness and anger that fell within the shadows on this battlefield the piercing cry of Kyuketsu rang out. There was desperate, ragged pleading in his voice and something inside of the lanky, lean youth responded to that pain. Zakki turned and found the shinigami in the darkness. He hated that he was going to have to hurt him to stop the festering madness that threatened to take and toss the Death God like a piece of driftwood on a storm-wracked sea but he hadn't another choice. As long as Kyuketsu didn't die, the waif-like youth would keep him from doing harm to himself and everyone else there.

Concentrating his terrible radiant energy into bursts of heat so intense that it fused together the very particles that formed the substance of everything with mass in the universe he created lances of churning, blazing plasma and as each of six were formed he threw them with incredible force and unerring accuracy around the edges of Kyuketsu’s body. The plasma lances struck him and as part of their powerful effect tossed him backwards and would continue to carry him until he struck the nearest solid surface where he would be pinioned. This was Zakki’s first salvo in the attack to save the shinigami.

[214/1033]
 
Beneath the assault of the corrupted captain, the revived form of Emptybones was whittled away, staining the mountain with sprays of blackened ooze. Elsewhere, White Corona fell under the radioactive hellfire of the human boy, its smoking husk tainting the earth with its ashen cinders. Further down the mountain's face still, the shattered aril of Brainfang bled its maddening corruption into the soil.

The seeds had been sown.

Within the cloying darkness of the first human's power, pale yellow eyes narrowed to satisfied slits. The gears had begun to turn.

Not all was going according to the Dread Lord's plot, however...

The beast felt the pressure, the intensity of the human's attack a moment before he arrived; a bone-crushing blow delivered to the core of the antediluvian hollow. Shadowy tendrils strained against the force of the strike, the ancient bindings that held the Dread Lord crumbling beneath the sheer power behind the human's fist.

At first it appeared that the attack had been successful. The beast wavered, his pallid form doubled over. It was only then however, that the human realized what he had wrought. Obsidian pins and shreds of blackened fabric fell from the creature's form.

The human's affront had shattered what remained of Prometheus' prison.

A growl broke the darkness; a low, gurgling hiss, full of malice. It was enough to make one's blood run cold.

"At long last," the Dread Lord seethed, rising from his prone position. "I am finally free."

Hooked hands shot through the inky blackness, their progress barely slowed by the Advent's mire; reaching, feeling, searching for the boy's throat. If it was the beast's attention Arano wanted, he certainly had it. The Dread Lord would snuff him out personally. Finally feeling his purchase just beyond his fingertips, Prometheus strained against his shadowy bindings, intent on choking the life from this impudent human.

Suddenly, his progress was halted. Mere inches from the boys neck, Prometheus' devilish claws stopped.

For the first time in centuries, the Dread Lord felt pain.

A line of black blood dripped from just above the beasts eyes. Lodged in his mask was a pale scythe of sinew and bone; the last affront by Ascania against his oppressor had struck true.

But he was too weak. The cut was shallow. Not enough to shatter the Dread Lord's mask in its entirety.

Yellow eyes darted in the direction of the felled herald. Prometheus' senses were slowly returning to him. Just able to make out the vizard's form through the fading blackness, the Dread Lord lanced out, his hooked hands fastening around Theron's throat instead.

"Impudent!" the Dread Lord boomed, raising the bloodied shinigami into the air. "You dare to bear your fangs at me?!"

Reaching back with one clawed appendage, the beast prepared to deliver a killing blow.

A flash of silver and steel streaked through the scene. The blade of Sayis Inuzuri, freed from the power of the Advent boy, sped towards Prometheus, cleaving through flesh and bone, rending the Dread Lord's hand from his form.

Falling to the ground with a thump, Prometheus' disembodied claw still locked around his throat, Theron breathed a brief sigh of relief. Reeling, the eldritch hollow stared daggers at the Soutaichou. In a burst of sonido, the creature appeared on an opposing cliff face, his hooked appendage slowly regenerating from his oozing stump of a wrist.

"You," the hollow seethed, the mountain quaking as he spoke; mirroring his unbridled rage.

"All of you will die here."


Thangs
So Prometheus' took a palpable hit from Arano that broke his shackles. While counterattacking, Theron decided to stab him in the head, which redirected his anger from Arano. As he was about to kill Theron, Sayis' attack from earlier, no longer stopped by Arano's OD, lopped his hand off.

Now he's fucking pissed.

Katie, if there was ever a time for the Tonberry doink, this is it.

 
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The phantoms banished with the resounding shockwave of his strike, Arano collapsed onto the frozen caldera.

Breath came to him in burning gasps, the last of his energy sapped. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could make out Sayis and Theron each staggering to and fro in their attempt to push themselves further. Breathing deep, his entire body seemed to ache with movement.

He clenched his jaw, teeth bared in effort as he heaved himself upwards. Bringing himself up to a single knee, he looked up through his matted hair. He was sweat-soaked, but he pushed himself back up. Shedding his overcoat, he glared back at the Vasto Lorde with defiant eyes.

The same plan. The same goal. They had one shot... they had blown it. He dared not look about for Adelaide - lest Prometheus pounce on the opportunity. He muttered under his breath, "One more chance..."

Make it count, shinigami! He roared through Kairososhi. Like that, Oushurin snapped.

Indigo reiatsu soared to fresh heights, a palpable outline surrounding his form before it suddenly arced away from him. A soft hum, like thunder, emanated seemingly from nowhere. Static jumped from his form, and his entire body began to shake and distort - his features made indistinct.

Then, Arano disappeared!

Once more he felt his bones and muscle scream in anguish, over-exerted and incapable of functioning properly anymore. He forced them on regardless, ignoring the mounting pain. He didn't move for the beast's perch, instead leaping directly for Prometheus. Appearing before the Vasto Lorde, he could feel the squeal of insanity in his mind. Roaring and gnashing, threatening to shatter him with its irrefutable nature. Then, he struck.

A high-pitched whine accompanied the hum of Tonbogiri - the swirling energies of Heiryoku overlaid atop his hyper-accelerated limbs. Eyes wide, his crimson iris radiated with power. "Death will not take me!"

The three strikes flowed naturally, instantly. His left arm careened towards the hollow's undamaged arm, before spinning with the momentum. Arano's left leg aimed for Prometheus' chest, while his right hand shot directly for the beast's mask, right along the cut the Kenpachi had inflicted.​

[ 357 / 2800 ]
 
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“So,” Isogu looked out at the battle with Prometheus, “this is the agent of change you thought I worked alongside. I’m not surprised; it has the chance right now to cut the entire corrupted head from the ailing body of the Gotei Thirteen.”

Adelaide, another voice, that of her Captain, chimed in the Lieutenant’s head, it’s distracted. Strike it with everything you have. With Kyuketsu afflicted you are our best chance. Even better than Lilith could know.

Isogu looked amused at the redhead, “Oh, I’ll get to actually see your courage?”

All these voices were driving Adelaide mad, which was doubtless the point, but Lilith was right. She took a deep breath and let go of her scythe, holding it instead with her mind. She placed her hands together and slowly pulled them apart, a green pillar forming between them. Adelaide needed time. She couldn’t allow an enraged Old One free on her wounded comrades. Sorry, Commander, she directed to the Soutaichou with Taidan and added aloud, “In for a pence, in for a pound.” Then in a voice so powerful, so booming it commanded the forces of nature, Adelaide spoke.

“To knowledge belongs the rational apprehension of all things temporal!” The words were powerful, booming and ancient. They were so horrifyingly old and mighty they rivaled the Eldrich horror itself. “Concept of form without direction, form without climax; that which allows time to stand still!” The green glow of the hourglass of magic in Adelaide’s hands became so bright it enveloped the entire peak of the mountain as she all but screamed, “Kindou number One Hundred and One, Jikanteishi!”

Suddenly, on the peak, time became immaterial. Like a boat stuck on a sandbar while the river of time passed it by, the entire world around Adelaide simply stopped observing the mere concept of motion. She ha to remember how to use this, though. Change within the field was prevented, she couldn’t affect anything inside the bubble of non-time.

“Impressive,” remarked Isogu, “you know the Forbidden Words.”

This made Adelaide smile, as she looked at the glasses-less Fukushin. The illusions weren’t frozen, meaning if Prometheus wasn’t able to move, it truly was Prometheus. She couldn’t help but smile and she nodded her head to the man in white, “Let’s go for a ride.” She needed to leave the field, if only for a moment. So, she and her imaginary Isogu started running.

It didn’t take long to run down the cliff face beyond the intangible bubble of non-time. She noticed leaving it, though, because the world simply feels different when time isn’t moving properly. She had felt it before; she knew what the absence of time felt like, and when she and Fukushin returned to the flow of time, she knew it.

And then she notice something else. Isogu wasn’t talking. He was moving, but the illusion was too weak to draw from Adelaide’s mind at this distance. That was a welcome reprieve. Now there were two things she needed to do. The first was to prepare the endgame. She pulled a small shard of bone from inside her shihakushou and looked down at it, with some measurable worry. She had a lot of the wind knocked out of her by stopping time, and if this plan didn’t work she wasn’t going to be much more useful than anyone else. But there wasn’t much other choice. She placed a hand on the sheath of vellum that held the bone in place and whispered all the power she could into it. “Banshisei, Ruzai.”

Then, there were four more words to say; “Caries Sanctimonia Lashiel, Bankai.”

She knew she was going to lose focus as she got closer to Prometheus, so she took the unsheathed bone fragment in the non-time barrier and traveled to the direct opposite point around Prometheus as the dagger. She wasn’t sure she could target Prometheus, but she was going to bring that dagger to her own hand, it was going to pierce through the Dread Lord to get there. Meaning she only had to think about the dagger, and wanting it. That was all.

As she walked back around and into the field she had created, her flaming wings stopped their movement, instead being wings of frozen fire. Not that she noticed, because as she walked, calmly, toward Prometheus, he stopped looking like a fallen God.

He looked like Brooke.

She let time resume when she was inches from Brooke, probably right in front of the irate hollow, and through the pain and confusion the one salient thought resonated. I want the dagger.

As the bone rocketed through the air, the Lieutenant had the presence to defiantly say one single word to the Dread Lord: “Doink,” whispered the arcane warrior as she closed her eyes, not daring to see what her strategy would do to the woman she loved and betrayed. And, the Mystic prayed, the woman who’s imposter she banished to the waking nightmare; Hueco Mundo.
830 Words
2782 Total​

Bah
You all accelerated my plans, but it's probably better this way.

Jikanteishi (Temporal Stasis) - Kindou #101, 8000 Kidou
Between the user's open palms, a gleaming three-sided pillar appears. Behind the sheen, sand can be seen pouring rapidly from the top and falling endlessly to the bottom. As the user of this forbidden spell finishes the incantation, the vivid green glow increases, blinding everything within a 20m radius. People, creatures, structures, kidou -- everything within the area of effect is halted in a temporal stasis, unable to act or be acted upon.
The caster may move out of the area at will, but cannot cast any hadou, bakudou, or chiyudou within the affected area. The stasis lasts for five rounds or until the caster willingly ends it.

Kidou Ikichi Kazou [Kidou Threshold Increase] Trained Feat
As the name implies the character undertaking this Feat will have their Kidou threshold increased due to their talents over the Demon Arts. Instead of the cap being at 150% of the Kidou stat, the threshold is now raised to 200%.

Banshisei - Hadou #28, 500 Kidou
Description: A Bakudou removal spell. Forcing reiatsu out of their body to counter the opponents', this spell requires physical contact with the target spell, but can disperse Bakudou of equal or lesser cost almost instantly.
Extension: Ruzai, 500 Kidou
Description: Doubling the energy released, Ruzai adds to Banshisei's banishing properties, dispelling Bakudou equal to or less than the cost of Banshisei and Ruzai

Kijigoku [Living Hell] Single-Use Reward Item
A shard of sharpened leg bone with bloody inscriptions encircling it. A target stabbed with this will be banished to Hueco Mundo; there, they are left to their own devices to survive or escape. After this single use, Kijigoku disintegrates into white sand. Adelaide's kijigoku are wrapped in sheaths of vellum and require removing a bakudou on the vellum sheath (Banshisei would suffice) to draw the bone shard.


Cut for your benefit. Assume Addie and Fuku had some conversation as she set up the attack.
 
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The human’s attack was unexpected, though welcomed nonetheless. In a way, though his actions carried such dishonor towards his mantle as captain, Kyuketsu felt no shame, no apologetic self-disdain that warranted any loss of resolution. At that point, he couldn’t tell anymore. The borders which defined alignments blurred in the wake of the Dread Lord’s corrupting presence, utterly and inexorably breaking down the very foundations of the swordmaster’s soul. After what Kyuketsu experienced, after what he saw and the limitless potential carried by such visions... there was simply no turning back.

As he lied pinned to the ground, eyes burrowing into the skies, a fragile grin snaked its way onto his face. He couldn’t discern whether it was cruel irony, or just morbid humor. In the man’s head looped the same speech over and over again—the same speech, in fact, that Sayis spoke of during Kyuketsu’s taishuu practical.

I want... I want...

Driven with raw, unadulterated reiatsu, the captain slowly pulled himself back up. His skin burned against the anchoring spears, searing as bouts of pain shocked his entire physique. He countered Zakki’s spiritual pressure with that of his own, overpowering it eventually given some effort. The plasma pikes drilling his figure crumbled and fizzled, leaving but trails of vapor fluttering in their wake. In the raptor’s hands were his zanpakutous, still clenched with undying fortitude whilst ready and able to pounce. For a moment, he turned to see his attacker, giving the human an assailing glare one would present to their enemy. When it would seem as though Kyuketsu would retaliate, he instead merely gave Zakki a nod... appreciative and thankful, though cryptic all the same.


2,500​
 
Theron could but manage a gurgling response to the hold that Prometheus had taken on him, both the claw that bound his throat with an iron grip and the assault on his psyche. With all attention turned on him, neither crippled body nor stalwart mind could hope to thwart the focused ire of an enemy even more ancient and powerful than himself.

Reality itself cracked, distortions refracted not only light, but sound, taste, and smell. Glimpses of suffering past and future flashed through his mind's eye. The pain, however, was left perfectly in tact. His body could do ought but tremble, similar to his mind as the confidence and swell of certainty faded. He had failed, the mask was marked but unbroken. As he was, his best could wound but not slay a horror as ancient as time.

As the battered soul was, his body could not endure the shattering of his mind. His senses shifted from the distorted reality, greeted instead by darkness thorough and complete.

"Your sword is sharp," a soft baritone whispered as eyes fell closed.

[770]
 
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The Dread Lord, free of his ancient bindings, looked on as the combined forces of the Gotei and Earth rallied against him. Due to the interference of the Human, Sayis Inuzuri had managed to scar the beast, but the antediluvian hollow would not be bested twice.

"So young," the beast boomed, his clawed hand nearly renewed. "So brazen."

The human sped towards the Dread Lord once more, oblivious to its own well-being. The attack was palpable, for one so callow, but the creature had seen hundreds, thousands like him before; ones who dared to strike at him without rhyme, reason or forethought.

The hollow lord would show him how faulty his brashness was.

With nearly inperceptable speed, the boy closed on the Dread Lord, only to be met with a wall of blazing crimson. The raging fires were the right of his kind, the sanguine conflagration borne of hollow souls. Ceros. At Prometheus' mental whim, the burning energies twisted and contorted into the familiar form of Bala, a shell of virulent energy expanding outward in all directions from the eldritch horror. In an infinitesimally small period of time, the mighty wave of crimson raged through the caldera like a flood.

From within the fires however, emerged a piece of Prometheus' very soul -- a pale dagger born of his Scions and tinged with madness. The creature could only laugh as the morose blade pierced his hide, signalling a welling of malevolent reiatsu and acrid fog.

It seemed the beast had not given the young ones enough credit.

With a wave of his freshly regenerated hand, the Dread Lord willed his fires away. Gazing at each of the beings around him one by one, his fanged maw split open in a wicked grin.

"It is already too late," the beast seethed, gesturing for the forgotten corpses of his progeny. Each had served its purpose. The earth had been seeded with his madness. Letting out a long laugh, the beast slowly faded from the living plane in a puff of sable smoke, leaving those present with one final chilling reminder as he was banished to the eternal twilight of Hueco Mundo.

"This world is already mine."

FINAL [3,246]

Endgame


So Prometheus' let out his signature, zero-motion omni-directional bala 8D (an ability he'd demonstrated in HM). Guess y'all forgot about that one. There are only a few of you in range anyways, and at worst you're looking at some pretty nasty burns etc; not enough to kill, just maim.

Katie's dagger successfully 'doink-d' Prometheus, but his hombres have served their purpose, so there's no need for him to hang around anyways ;D The connotations will be explored in our usual end-PM wrap-up thread.

GG WP
 
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