Let the Experiments Begin! { Hanbei / Closed }

The first thing Hanbei felt upon awakening was that he had only been like this one time before: after losing his arm.

He tried moving, not that he was in any condition to, and found he couldn’t budge. Restraints adorned his wrist, ankles, waist, and head, he couldn’t even see what they were made of because of the restrictive gear. It felt metallic, and damned tight, against his skin, except for his prosthetic, which most of was broken off. There was a throbbing pain in his left shoulder and all along his spine, his head dazed and taking in everything slowly. It wasn’t so bad on his right flank, he was thankful he had taken some time to try healing it before being throttled to unconsciousness by the Hollow on the beach.

What the fuck had happened to the hollow on the beach?

He struggled for a moment, then quickly settled again once he realized there was no way he was getting out. The faint tinge of hunger and thirst annoyed him. His thoughts raced to the events he could remember.

Beach, Hollow, losing, then… blue? And finally blacking out.

He had no idea where he was or how he must’ve gotten here, he wasn’t even sure why he was still alive: his fate should’ve been sealed back on the beach. He was as good as dead, he was broken there, an uncooked meal. And then an even more terrifying thought popped into his head.

Sabi Shokan.

A swelling of despair flooded his morale as he noticed he could not sense his zanpakuto spirit, or even his zanpakuto. Where was his sword? Where the fuck was his dear sword? It couldn’t be far if he was still functional.

Sabi! Sabi, you’ve got be around here somewhere! Anything dear, anything at all to let me know.

Nothing.

He tried straining against his immobilizers again, and took several deep breaths knowing his attempt would be fruitless. Why was he stuck like this, how did he become imprisoned. And more importantly, who was his captor? He tried analyzing what little he could see.

Small room. Reasonable lighting. Barren walls. No door from where he could see. No sounds either. He was alone.

Wasn’t he?

A searing headache kicked in, probably just took his body a moment to realize that pain was there. He cringed, and then he began to sweat. A cold sweat. A sweat of tension, the kind of perspiration inspired by anticipation. Anticipation of fear.

WC- 414/414. GP- 8/8.

So that plan on waiting for the shinigami to wake up had taken up at least another twenty minutes of his time. Twenty minutes that was spent sipping on tea and looking over the shinigami's sword and most important tool in their arsenal, their Zanpakuto. He had been looking over the sword itself and been trying to figure out on how it works. He knew that most shinigami have a zanpakuto spirit so he wanted to meet this said spirit and research it. Of course when the male shinigami had woken up he put the zanpakuto back into a giant tube filled to the brim with a liquid in it. He mostly did this in order to try to get the spirit to appear on a screen by using a interesting liquid formula that could channel the energy needed to see into a zanpakuto's inner world.

He then diverted his attention to the awake and apparently squirming shinigami boy which he only chuckled at as he watched him squirm like a worm. After a bit of watching the shinigami squirm in panic, he turned on a mic and a camera so that the boy could see his face from a moving screen.

" Goooooooood evening shinigami boy! My name is... well. My name is not important right now. But i am the Tercera Espada and i feel like experimenting on you and your zanpakuto! So welcome to my fucking tower you pajama wearing prey!"

He laughed in a form of sinister way before pouring himself another cup of tea and taking a sip to calm himself back down.

" Anyway, i got some tech i need to test out. You just happened to be out cold in Hueco Mundo so i dragged your sorry ass all the way back to my tower. Now, i wont tell you what im testing on you for secrecy sake, But do remember that i will be making a machine to wipe your memory of this ever happening. Cant let you leave with the intelligence on what i have~"

He grinned gently as he was serious about the memory wipe, he was not gonna just experiment on someone and let them leave with a full memory. In fact the first thing he was gonna do was make a device that resets his memory back to his most current memory that did not involve Las Noches. However, he then turned a dial causing the barrier pillar behind the wall to the north of Hanbei to activate and give off its first wall of energy. The energy itself was electro-charged and meant to deal pain, but the first wall was only meant to deal light pain.

While the machine was at the first level, Sobek grabbed his notes and took notes on how Hanbei reacted. He was trying to test out a new form of defense.

Cause if you cant keep them out.

You can make them regret ever coming close.

"..Scream for me... give me good results hehe.... who knows. By time, im done with you. You wont be the same boy that entered hueco mundo... no.. you will be broken... "

He grinned in pleasure like a true sadist.

Word count: 527
GP earned: 10
GP total: 22

A screen flashed on, a face covering most of its area. The face was ashen, and a serpentine Arrancar mask covered the male’s upper left quadrant.

Fucking Arrancar of course.

Some things started coming together for him, but much remained a mystery. Somehow he was coherent enough to understand was being said, and every word from his mouth fueled his rage. He struggled again, harder than before. The Arrancar’s laugh was vile, hardly a fair forewarning of what torments were to come.

“You fucking piss poor excuse for a hollow. Fucking fight me!” He spat, but because of the position his head was stuck in, some of the spittle, landed on his own face. “You fucking coward! Coward!” The pitch and brutality of his tone raised with his anger. “You need to hold me up for you sick little games, is that it? Too worried I might drive my blade up your tight little asshole? I. Will. Wreck you. I bet you’d make a good snakeskin belt you split-tongued shit stain.” This wasn’t a situation you could talk your way out of. An Espada knew what they wanted, an Espada would have him dead no matter what.

Memory wipe? But why? It seems pointless. But that’s really what’s going on anyways isn’t it? What in the five hells does he need me for?

He expected a response from Sabi, but returned to struggling when he realized why none would come. The next thing he knew, all his senses were being lit up electrically by tens of thousands of volts. His whole body clenched and several agonized moans and grunts left his lips. It wasn’t excruciating, maybe a seven out of ten, but nothing he could shrug off either. It lasted for a long time, but he would not sacrifice any screaming just yet, he was sure the Arrancar was capable of making such a thing happen, but this would not be enough. He couldn’t tell how long it went on for, time had little meaning here, but eventually, mercifully, it stopped. His eyes had begun to water, and thankfully there was no stench of burning flesh in his nose, some kind of technology must have prevented any electrical burning.

He gasped for air, his diaphragm ceased to spasm, and eventually his respirations slowed to a less excited pace. Again his vision could focus, and he saw his captor still on the screen, a look of disinterest upon him. But there was so much more beyond that, if he truly had lost interest, he’d just record and busy himself or worsen his suffering, but there he was, still watching. His true intentions were on display to Hanbei despite the lack of direct sight between the two.

I would love to drive Sabi Shokan so far up his ass that I can really split his tongue like a snake. And then he can shit stone for a month if he can regenerate like most Arrancar degenerates. I will remember this fucking face, and then I will fucking crush it.

Hanbei stared hard at him, the prey watching his hunter.

WC- 517/931. GP- 10/18.

My my was the subject being very overly aggressive against him with little to no reason, oh wait he was testing on the shinigami. Never mind the shinigami had a reason to be so aggressive and out right cocky with its own skills, sure he felt like restraints were needed. Of course he was not gonna play fair for a shinigami for he is a hollow, a arrancar and such he felt no need to ever be so nice with his prey. The scientist only watched as the shinigami boy yelled and yelled with no real direction that he was ever gonna stop, so he lowered the mics volume on his side. He only smiled and smiled as to him it sounded like the boy was just speaking very loudly instead of yelling now, but of course he always paid attention to the words that he said. When the boy spoke of stabbing his zanpakuto right up Sobeks own male ass it only made him burst out into laughter before he got up and picked up Hanbei's zanpakuto. He then headed over to the screen and held up the sword with a toothy smartass like grin before gently unsheathing it to show off the blade.

" You mean this zanpakuto? The one that is in my grasp right now? Aah, yeah i dont think so. First of all, you would never have the chance and second of all my hierro is too thick.

But please, keep boasting about how you could kick my ass while you are restrained to a table.

It humors me. "

He only grinned when the boy had started to grunt in pain when he activated his machine and of course Sobek knew why. The barrier pillar in the room behind the room that Hanbei was in had activated its first out of five barriers. The first barrier had made intangible contact with Hanbei's feet and sent the amount of pain it was programmed to do into the body through the nervous system. Sobek only then sheathed Hanbei's zanpakuto and placed back into the tube full of strange liquids and walked over to pick up his notepad to take notes on how Hanbei's body reacted. He grinned in over all excitement as it was working all according to how he wanted it to, for it was programmed to be untouchable and nigh on intangible for the barriers. He only laughed gently before setting his notepad down and looking over all his machines to make sure they were producing the results he wanted.

" Good good you are showing me good results there shinigami boy and to think this is only level one of five levels. Now then, lets get straight too it~"

He then turned the notch up to the number two causing the second barrier out of five to intangibly form and make contact with Hanbei's knees. This barrier was already gonna dish out more pain than the first one, but seeing as the two of them are both active at the same time.

Well.

It should prove to make interesting results.

As well as a shinigami boy in intense pain~

Word count: 517
GP earned: 10
GP total: 32

Labored breathing. It was all Hanbei could do, because the panting wasn’t something he was making an effort of, and anything resembling pain tolerance had long left him. There was also a lot of crying. His face was streaked, and saliva leaked from the edge of his mouth, swallowing it was just too much.

The Arrancar came in to taunt him again. This time he said something about candy, it didn’t matter, if it meant no more pain, he would do it. Once his left arm was freed, he didn’t hesitate to grab whatever was offered and managed to stuff it in his mouth. What came next was worse than the previous torture. Within his stomach, a reaction activated the candy and caused it to expand into a pink foam, and plummeting the pH in his stomach, causing him to cry out as the acid burned up his esophagus, and down through his intestines. He dry screamed, but some of the foam managed to get into his trachea, and he began choking, but only briefly, but it still stifled his hysterical struggling. After a minute it subsided, his innards still protesting his being through a throbbing ache.

He wished desperately for the darkness to take him, to slip under consciousness and escape the screams of his body. In a sick way, he wanted another burst of pain to come, it would hopefully knock him out. But he waited, and it did not come. No more mocking from the Arrancar either. His mind too scrambled for reasonable thoughts, he never thought of the possibility of his captor leaving him there to toy with his zanpakuto. Right now, the only thing that existed was his suffering, the rest of the world quickly forgotten by his torment.

And then a new presence. But it couldn’t be… Shinigami? No this had to be a trick. Some fucking sick twist to his imprisonment, this was an attempt to further break him. He incoherently watched the man gesture at him, then continue behind him, and in the next moment, a new sensation: physical freedom. He dropped to the ground, his legs providing no support from being used so little. He managed to prop himself up on his knees and knuckles, still lacking the strength to stand up proper. He didn’t dare look at the man, instead staring at the floor.

“This… isn’t real.” Barely more than a whimper, but every word became less so as freedom helped him find himself, albeit slowly. “You can’t be. Espada. Fucking Arrancars.” He couldn’t say much between deep breaths. “Hanbei Karatsu, hospitaller of the 3rd, don’t eat any candy here.” Right now he felt more like a mess than a real person. “Shit ain’t sweet.”

He finally looked up at the man and tried cracking a smile at him, but it came out broken, more like a grimace than anything. A Shinigami sure enough, well, at least he looked like one. But if he had to be someone, a captain? A quick recollection from Hanbei’s vast knowledge of important Shinigami told him no, and next was lieutenants. His eyes worked over the man’s hard face, the moustache giving him away.

Wait, the 3rd? What in the five hells is Robert Muhle doing in Las Noches? Dozens of questions lit up his brain, but he had a more important concern than any of the answers to those questions. If he could withstand that much pain, he could take mind games, he would trust the man before him for now, the questions could wait. He tried getting up, and very slowly and shakily, managed to stand on his own two feet while leaning heavily against the device that had trapped and inflicted excruciating pain just minutes ago.

“Sabi Shokan. I don’t have my zanpakuto.”

WC- 632/2442. GP- 12/47.

With Robert temporarily gone, Hanbei fell to the ground, hitting the ground hard on his ass. It barely registered to him as he propped himself against the torture device, and sat, bringing the flask of whatever Robert had left him up to his lips, and tipped it back. It wasn’t easy going down, but the taste was as familiar as milk: whiskey, and not the cheap shit either.

What a fucking chap. He part laughed, part groaned, in his head. He managed to sip some more, some dribbling from his mouth, and coughing after drinking it too quickly. He was sure this was a special brew, some kind of kaido infused within, but he would’ve been happy with just liquor for now anyways.

He took the brief respite to look over himself, and what was left of his garment. His shihakusho had lost its sleeves, and the pants were in tatters. A huge cut caused the left flank to look floppy and loose, and many other small tatters threatened its patency. He looked at his damaged prosthetic, which thankfully, was still intact despite how battered it appeared. Small pieces were missing from it, and when he gripped the hand into a fist and flexed, the soft whirring became violent, but it still functioned to a much lower standard. He doubted it would be able to hold his zanpakuto, and thought about detaching it right here, but decided against it, feeling naked enough already without his zanpakuto. He wiped away the remnants tears with the back of his hand, cursing himself for their presence in the first place.

The lieutenant came back without success. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, Sabi Shokan could be anywhere, and if he couldn’t sense her, how could a stranger? He let out a long breath of despair, knowing well what a shinigami without a zanpakuto was.

Useless.

He was returned to his feet again by his savior, and swooned for a moment and steadied himself. He questioned how effective Robert’s advice might be, but did not question his bond with Sabi Shokan. If that’s what it would take, than he had no doubt he could find her. Before Robert finished speaking, Hanbei hastily released his reiatsu, but instead of a true burst, it came out a fizzle, he doubted even a trained shinigami could’ve felt the pathetic attempt from one room over.

“Fuck.” He muttered, slightly embarrassed that someone, the lieutenant of his own division of all people, had seen his reiatsu sputter like a hole-filled garden hose.

This time he braced himself, he really didn’t have much of anything in him right now, and allowing his spiritual pressure to go unchecked again might cause him to pass out. That was another hassle he didn’t want to cause his superior. He closed his eyes and concentrated, than without warning, blasted his reiatsu. The tanned emanation reached out for just a moment, then collapsed on itself and shot back to Habei, staggering him, but not his grin. For just a second, although he had no idea where, he had found her: the arid warm presence, the impossible taste of ‘stale’, and just the faintest whisper of hissing. It was gone as fast as it had been found, but she was here.

Unsure of if the connection had lasted long enough, he checked with Robert.

“Did you pick that up? Because I’ve maybe got one more of those in me before I take a forced nap. And if that happens, you leave me here, understand? There’s no point bringing the walking dead home.” Such a tone with a lieutenant would have been blasphemy in any other situation, but Hanbei Karatsu did not fuck around when it came to his zanpakuto.

WC- 624/3066. GP- 12/59.

Not much looked back at Robert Muhle while he scolded Hanbei; exhaustion, torment, and some spite, because Hanbei didn’t agree with the lieutenant, although he did not voice that.

Cling? Tool? Wow this guy loves himself way too much. But perhaps he did have a point, unlike Hanbei, this guy had soared through the ranks, relying almost exclusively on the specialty of the Third. Hanbei, who excelled at kaido alone, had ignored improving his use of it at all, only really using it while performing his duties within the Sanbantai. But it wasn’t kaido, or anything other than his zanpakuto that had saved him from death that day, that had taken one arm from him instead of his life. Without Sabi Shokan, chances were that he wouldn’t even be a hospitaller. One day, if he’s lucky, maybe he’ll realize the potential of his zanpakuto, maybe he’ll realize that they are just an extension to one’s self. Captains don’t get to toss aside their zanpakuto like mere tools.

Robert’s words had only reinforced his convictions to stay behind for his zanpakuto.

He painfully chuckled as Robert said lucky day. A beleaguered elation spread across his expression when Robert announced that he had been successful. He couldn’t blame the guy for his rough tone, he was thankful all the same.

“You can get me home Muhle-sama.” His tone had settled, and his typical use of honorary titles had returned. “I owe you several debts for your actions today, thank you again and again. I have no idea how you plan to get us- err… me out of here though?” Another POW? More questions about Robert’s presence here popped up, but he ignored them. One shouldn’t break what isn’t broken. “I think I should be alright to walk a short while, no more hand holding.” He extending one hand, the natural one since the other was borderline scrap metal at this point, towards his colleague slightly, gesturing for the return of his companion. He would feel much better once her serpentine pommel was covered by his palm again. He was more than ready to pass out once setting foot in Soul Society again, it didn’t matter if there was nobody there to immediately welcome him, he would be found, just as he had been here.

WC- 382/3448. GP- 7/66.