Somewhere Far Beyond [Erasmus/Robert]

Workers broke their backs to haul massive amounts of stone and rock to and fro, their movements fueled by a mixed sense of twisted patriotic pride and fear for their own lives as their King watched from afar. They were the lowest rung of Hollow society and where once their ruler had a soft spot for them and their ilk there was now an empty cold cavern of indifference as he stood with arms folded, darkly observing each of them as they scurried back and forth, up and down. 

All battle damage from his scuffle with the turncoat had dissolved itself under the rigorous scrubbing of a rough sponge and warm water and he was freshly clothed. Simple black boots and pants, the hems covered in the crust of Hueco Mundo's wastes. A grey lace up shirt, it's brown collar laces hanging limply open to expose a neat triangle of the upper portion of his chest. Over all of that, a drab and faded grey duster to protect the ensemble from the rogue sands that drifted from the newly formed hole in Las Noches' wall.

Every time a servant glanced in his direction he was struck by a brief glimpse into who they were. A small girl sitting at a table of happy faces. Old men sitting in silent judgement around a young boy. Painful death upon a bloody battlefield. The desire to be useful. A thirst for revenge. Loneliness. Greed. Joy. Reverence. Revulsion. Hate. Suffering. Boredom. Simple, complex, and everything in-between. All of these people looked at him so readily, he mused as the familiar reiatsu signature of his Tercera swiftly approached him from behind. 

And yet.

The King turned to find Robert Muhle, knee-deep in sand before him with his head bowed in respect, his single unmolested eye pointedly fixated on the grains beneath his feet.

This one has stopped looking at me.

"Speak" The King prompted, not allowing the surprise he felt at seeing the man so soon after issuing him orders show upon his face. Instead a hardy scowl rained down upon the Shinigami. He had expected Sobek to make things difficult and for the analysis of the limb to be long and arduous. Instead it had taken Robert only a few hours. The King listened attentively for the explanation. 

Sobek had given up his position willingly. Without a single question or request for proof of his replacements claim. Disappointment began to bloom in the King's stomach. Men like Sobek deserved to be wiped out, it was a shame to hear that he was still functioning. With any luck he would be stupid enough to wander into a Shinigami patrol and get himself sliced to pieces, but the King realized that he was beginning to lose himself to that fantasy and returned to reality.

"You may stand." He said, still as stone. From a position of subservience Robert had an excuse to avoid eye contact, he wouldn't have such an easy time of it while straight backed and equal. Erasmus pinned a critical icy glare to the man.

"I told you that you'd have whatever you needed in order to complete your task. Ask your questions, but first I'd like to know that pertinent information you mentioned."

What exactly had Robert found?

[Words: 546][GP: 10][Total GP: 10]

Robert rose in one fluid motion, stepping forward to close the distance between himself and the king as as he back straightened. He dared to place himself at the king's side, his eye staring out at the hive of worker beeds, and his eye-patch providing a buffer that hoped to buy him some more mental privacy.

"I've been watching construction like this in the Seireitei. The day I returned there was an Arrancar that tore a Garganta into the upper Rukongai, and I received the alert. I did as I was asked, and atomized it along with the city block it occupied. I apologize if it was one of yours." He stooped for just a moment, pulling a silver flask out from the side of his boot and twisting its cap off. "That was my last act as Acting Lieutenant of the fourth division." He tried in vain to wash the contempt from his voice with a deep swig of whiskey from his flask.

He wasn't quite delusional enough as to think Erasmus cared about his position, but perhaps he cared about Seireitei politics. They were his enemies after all, and any change to their highest command structure was something that should prove important to him if he was a man worth respecting at all. "The fourth division is now run by Captain Shun Minamoto, a man who previously served as the Lieutenant of Tokiyo Fujikagi. Contemptible piece of shit, rather gifted with a sword and not bad with Bakudō. I am now Tokiyo Fujikagi's Lieutenant. However... he knows about the 'shadow' you gave me. It reared its head during my fight with Tokiyo for the position, and nearly swallowed me whole. He used his powers to contain it, and give me the time I need to fight against it. I don't think he intends to tell anyone about it, and he has no idea you and I are connected."

One last pull from the flask was taken, then he recapped it and shoved it back into his boot. He presumed there was only so much alcohol he could imbibe mid conversation before it drew the king's ire. "Regardless, this position grants me access to information that will be invaluable to the second of your tasks. this Inhibitor will be difficult, requiring months of research in a field I don't have experience in. It's more Bakudō than science, and inventing sealing spells whole cloth is something I've never done before." he couldn't help but smile at the grace involved in having acquired his new position at just the right time to fulfill one of the king's desires.

It was almost providence.

"The third runs a place called the forbidden library, housing information about spells that the mere casting of is considered criminal. I can access that now, and will study it to learn all I can about that type of magic. There are still several complications, however. Chief among these being that I have been navigating to your location by the void of energy you radiate, as I cannot sense your Reiatsu. I don't mean to patronize by telling you things you already know but, this happens when the gap in power is so great that merely sensing the Reiatsu would injure the beholder."

Of course, even that wasn't the biggest complication. If a Captain Commander had given him the same request he could have at least attempted it, as his intimate knowledgeable about the spiritual composition of Shinigami would have made it merely an issue of scale rather than structure. Erasmus on the other hand... what was he? Shinigami? No, he fired a Cero at Robert. Vaizard? Maybe. It would explain why he appears as a man yet possessed the powers of a beast. An Arrancar would wear a mask fragment, and a hollow-breed would be unmistakable. Either Erasmus was a Vaizard, a mortal (heaven forbid), or something new. Either way, it was out of Robert's element. "I'm afraid I simply cannot seal a creature I don't understand the spiritual composition of, and I cannot understand you if I am unable to sense your energy. Admittedly I could make an attempt if you were, say, a Shinigami, but I must admit that I'm as ignorant to your species as I am to your inner workings."

"Still, I don't need answers to these questions until I've studied further, if you'd prefer to keep me in the dark until then, it shall not interfere with my job. My pressing questions relate to that severed hand. It just doesn't make sense, the- Actually, hang on... I can do this far better with a prop." He disappeared from the king's side with the ripple of a flash step. Far off in the distance a blood curdling scream echoed through the air, and in a flash Robert was back; the black skinned hand of a humanoid clutched in his grip, its blood dripping out of the stump and onto his polished boots. "I asked if he had Instant Regeneration first," he said dismissively as he laid it palm up in his left hand, his body now turned to face the king entirely, but his eye locked tightly on the prop.

"To all tests that I performed with my natural senses, this hand and the hand you gave me are completely identical. They're both limbs that appear to be completely anatomically correct hands comprised of Reishi. I cobbled together some working devices out of the few good parts of Sobek's lab however, and they told a different story. The hand is identical to this one, with one major exception; the devices all insist that its skeletal structure doesn't exist." He scrapped his nail along the Radius and Ulna bones. "Yet they remain as tangible as this man's bone when you interact with them. The only noticeable difference is that the hand in my lab appears to be from a plus, whereas I could identify this one as belonging to an Arrancar."

His fingers locked around the stump with a tight grip, and he pressed the index finger of his right hand into the bone, holding it there for just a second as he let it glow with energy. Over the course of ten seconds he pumped fine slithers of Reiryoku in through the stump until the entire hand radiated with light, and then with a single grinding roar the bone turned to powder. He tipped the jellied hand up and shook it, letting the fragmented bone pour out between their feet before dropping the palm down to join them.

"I have some theories, and I could test them once I upgrade the equipment in Sobek's lab, but that has the potential to waste months as I chase leads I need not pursue. What you told me in your orders says that you know this hand was designed, that it had a purpose, and that it can be replicated. My question is simply a request that you share what you know about it, so I can properly investigate its bizarre nature without wasting months of our time in the process, your grace."

Watching him rise Obsession continued to observe the insisted lack of eye contact, Robert had stepped up to the side of his ruler so that his eyepatch was all Erasmus could see. A deliberate move to further avoid looking his master in the eye? Yes, Erasmus was sure of it now. Robert knew, or at least suspected, the existence of the Sight. Erasmus tolerated the slight, though he made sure to keep it at the forefront of his mind during the report.

The moment his subordinate opened his mouth Erasmus could tell that he'd be in for a long story, so he settled in by turning on his heel, sight combing the construction efforts as he listened to Robert tell him of an Arrancar that had invaded Seireitei. No orders had been issued for the infiltration of the Shinigami realm, whoever that lone Arrancar had been they were operating independently and Erasmus approved of their untimely demise, though whether he was pleased or irked by the news was difficult to discern from his physical reaction alone. A simple disinterested blink. 

Aware of unnaturally large movements Erasmus' eye swiveled in it's socket to observe the Shinigami at his side as he retrieved a small flask from his boot. Familiar with the stench of whiskey Erasmus wrinkled his nose, but allowed the man his pleasure. Long ago, when Erasmus was a man of weaker will and pathetic disposition he had known the comfort of the drink and it had flowed over his tongue more times than he could count. Nowadays he abhorred the substance, tolerating only small amounts on those rare occasions when it was required to keep up appearances. Never for recreational consumption. When he delegated he wanted to be himself, to keep his mind clear and focused at all times and when he fought he wanted his body to remain under his control rather than surrender it to uncertainty. Alcohol had no place in his life any longer, though he could sympathize with Roberts dependency upon the warming liquid. 

Contrary to Roberts beliefs Erasmus cared deeply for his position within the Seireitei, if only because his rank determined the flow of information and resources that came back with him to Hueco Mundo. A lieutenant had access to places and things that a mere third seat would never know about, after all. And Captains. Well, Erasmus hadn't sunk his claws into a leader of the Gotei yet, but if he played his cards right an opportunity or two may present themselves. A small river of excitement rushed through him at the thought of sweeping the rug out from beneath the Shinigami as they realized that one of their own Division heads was a puppet of Hueco Mundo's King all along. 

That was quickly swept away as Robert relayed the key changes of Seireitei's hierarchy. Names, titles and ranks were inserted into his mind and he made a point to commit them to memory. Shun Minamoto, now a Captain and Tokiyo Fujikagi, the man that Robert now served in the machine of Seireitei. Of what importance would these men be in the grand scheme of things? Certainly, Tokiyo had already proven an interesting individual. It was both worrying and relieving to know that the man had done nothing with the knowledge of Roberts inner hollow, it meant that unlike Kiriko he was against openly accepting vizards, it did not, however, mean that he didn't sympathize with them.

"You fought off your true self and did not earn a mask." Erasmus mused, eyes looking ahead at the workers, lazily flicking them aside to the man beside him arbitrarily. A deliberate sliver of doubt woven into his voice. "Interesting."

Every scrap of information that Erasmus received was taken with a generous pinch of salt. Because of the circumstances the King couldn't be sure of Roberts true allegiance. It may very well be that he was relaying misinformation on the orders of Penance and this was all a part of the game. Once their business was concluded Erasmus would be sure to fact check everything he was told. 

When Robert took a second hearty gulp from his flask there was a palpable air of disapproval radiating from Obsession. One was acceptable. Two was pushing it. A third and Robert would find the flask crushed between the fingers of his King, Erasmus wanted him lucid when he conducted official business. Evidently Robert had guessed that drinking on the job would be frowned upon and returned the drink to it's hiding place before continuing the briefing. 

Hearing that the development of the inhibitor would take months sent a sting of impatience through Erasmus' chest. How long could he afford to remain as weak as he was? Every passing day increased the odds of unexpected events and if he didn't have the skill to prevent the fallout then his entire plan could come crumbling down around him. Finding it increasingly difficult to do so, Erasmus remained silent and allowed Robert to continue, holding on to his response until the report was over. He did this over and over with every point that Robert made, about the magical properties of the inhibitor and his lack of knowledge regarding what Erasmus had become.

Saying nothing when the man vanished for a moment, only to return with the severed hand of what Erasmus assumed was a distant Arrancar. It would have been amusing were Erasmus not holding on to his contempt. When the Shinigami turned to face him Erasmus copied the gesture, his gaze lingering for a moment upon the mans eyelids, the annoyance beginning to boil beneath the surface of his skin. When he realized that Robert would not be looking up from the bloody hand he too turned his sight down upon it and followed Robert's explanation of the situation, nodding his understanding.

But when the point of this whole meeting arose Erasmus did not immediately reply. His eyes had followed the limp boneless limb, now nothing more than a fleshy glove. For a moment he simply looked down at it in silence. Then they traveled slowly upwards and into the eyes that were still, infuriatingly, avoiding his gaze.

"Robert." 

The word fell like the drop of a barbell. Accompanying the low menacing rumble of the King's voice was a chill felt even by those busying themselves with the rebuilding of the Castle. The King could have punished the Tercera, could have shouted, but what he wasn't doing was, somehow, far worse. Speaking slowly the King informed his subordinate of his mistake. 

"Were you never taught that it's rude not to look at somebody while you're speaking to them?"

[Words: 1101][GP: 22][Total GP: 32]

He had been testing a theory regarding Erasmus' ability to read minds. His last meeting with the man had seeded the idea that eye-contact was the catalyst behind his disturbing powers of insight, and this entire conversation had been Robert’s way of testing that theory. He really should have expected that, if indeed his theory was right, Erasmus would grow increasingly angry over the lack of eye-contact and confront him over it. (Although in his mind, Erasmus was always angry.)

At least now he knew he was right.

Robert hesitated for a moment, allowing his eye to drift up onto Erasmus' chin, but still evading his predatory gaze for the moment. He was accustomed to the threats and the intimidation at this point, not to mention the pain that was likely to follow. While he was in no hurry to rush into more agony, it seemed better to have Erasmus think of him as defiant, petulant even, rather than considering him meek and cowardly. This was Las Noches, after all, and it saw weakness as an invitation to chow down.

"I believe that you had need of a scientist," his response was sterile, emotionless, and surprisingly calm. "No man can call himself a scientist unless he is constantly forming hypotheses and then attempting to disprove them. That's what I was doing,"

His eye drifted up to meet Erasmus' own, and his shoulders gave an apathetic shrug.

"Though I suppose I can consider it a theory now."

The instant that his 'explanation' stopped and their eyes met, Robert’s vision blurred and his head began to burn. Before he could process what was happening a wave of force hit him like a truck, sending him staggering back across the dome. Robert dropped to a knee and coughed up a thick spurt of blood. He tried to raise his head to look at Erasmus, to figure out just what had happened, but before he could move his mind began to boil over with new information.

--

To see the world through another person’s memories was a surreal experience. There were some obvious complications that made the recollection uncomfortable; Speaking with someone else’s voice and seeing someone else’s body in place of your own was certainly jarring. There were more subtle complications than that, however. Not only could Robert see what Erasmus saw, but he could hear what he thought and feel what he felt.

The memory Robert had been given was a relatively mundane one. It began talking to a female Arrancar that Robert had neither seen nor heard of. She went by the name Mesablanca, and as he recalled the king looking at her, Robert felt like he had known her for some time. Primal thoughts bubbled up, ones of lust, and of ownership. She was his concubine and his ward, a blind mess of a beast that would have died in the wastes without him. Then came the more sophisticated feelings: Pride, ambition, and satisfaction. He had elevated her from squalor to something more, something better. He had given her a home, a name, and a sense of purpose. She was clay in his hands, and with it he could forge a grand vessel, or a terrifying weapon.

He explained to Mesablanca that he was taking her to meet a man: Takua Megiddo, the Primera Espada. Like Mesablanca, Takua was blind, yet he was the king’s most valued asset. She could learn from him. As they walked, Erasmus was kind enough to amplify the vibrations in the air to help Mesablanca navigate--in what could only be described by Robert as an uncharacteristic sign of human decency-- and they reached the tower with ease.

It became quickly apparent that all was not well, however. Erasmus had managed to detect the sound of a lock clicking into place beneath Takua’s tower, and his pride in the Primera was quickly tainted with suspicion. Takua liked his secrets, and he had not revealed to Erasmus the depth of what he was working on. A quiet tension mingled with his pride, and it became clear that, even before their fight, not all was well between the king and his Espada. Takua soon appeared to usher both the king and his guest inside the tower, and any concern Erasmus felt was tucked away behind the plastic smile of civility.

Takua looked like an utter mess. He was tall weed of a man, with pale skin and ragged, almost greasy hair. His eyes were covered in a mask fragment that resembled a visor, and his frame was gaut and withered. The only thing respectable about his frame or his appearance was the lab coat that he wore. It seemed that this was the Primera’s standard appearance, as the king made no note of it whatsoever.

The trio began to speak of Takua’s primary charge: Healing hollow-breeds. It stank of formality, and soon the conversation turned back to Erasmus’ concerns. He wanted Takua to train others to heal as he could so that he didn’t need him anymore, but Takua was having none of it. And then they turned to Evelynn. The pair spoke briefly of her past with Takua, describing her as nothing short of insane. And all the while Erasmus’ thoughts bubbled with plans to manipulate her, to use her as he would Mesablanca. Just like that, the dominos fell into place; this memory was nothing more than Erasmus’ way of tormenting Robert. He had been slighted by the deconstruction of his power, and sought to punch his Tercera for the insolence.

It was at that revelation that Robert tried to shut the memory out, to simply not think about the information that bubbled in his mind. But his efforts only made the image more vivid, more real. The pair kept talking, and thankfully, the subject changed. Takua abandoned the clearly uncomfortable subject of Evelynn in favor of another one: his work. He spoke of reverse engineering the gigai of a man named Tova, and of larger ambitions. He hoped make a new gigai, one that let him blur the racial signature of the wearer so that they could appear as a different species. The revelation satisfied Erasmus’ persistent questions, and after one final threat should Takua hurt Mesablanca, he turned to leave.

The second Erasmus shut the tower door behind him, the memory cut abruptly, fading from the desert sands to the king’s throne room. Mesablanca stood before him, and offered unto him a severed hand. She said she had stolen it from Takua’s lab as they spoke. As the king looked at the hand, the world around it fell away until it floated alone. From its wrist grew an arm, then a torso, then an entire body. The form was gaunt and withered, with a hole in its chest and a mask fragment upon its face forming a visor.

--

Robert spat out a thick wad of congealed blood from the back of his throat and shakily found his feet. He spent a few moments collecting himself, wiping the blood from his tear ducts and letting his vision refocus as the pain faded, until finally he could speak.

“Gigai are normally material, Kishi that bonds easily with Reishi in the same way a mortal body does. I’ve never seen one that’s spiritual, it will take some time to deconstruct how it works, and how it joins to the host.”

It seemed best to not acknowledge the wound that had been dealt to him whatsoever. Erasmus had done what pleased him, and there would be no benefit in lashing out. The king would either strike again or he wouldn’t, and there would be no benefit in squabbling over it or even acknowledging it happened. Robert would simply keep the insult in his mind, and remember to pay it back with interest one day.

“Thank you for the guidance, your grace. I understand what you want done, and I shall make it happen.”

With that, Robert disappeared with a flicker before the king was tempted to lash out yet again.