Siege of Las Noches: Warzone

Blood soaked the sands of Hueco Mundo, the battle had already been raging for some time. Hisoka had been one of the later arrivals, as he had remained behind to prepare the Soul Society for a counter-invasion. Gilgamesh was always so arrogant about victory, but Hisoka wasn't so sure. It at least couldn't hurt to be prepared. He may hate the cause, but his loyalties still lied with the Soul Society. He could never forgive himself if it fell because of a mad mans domination fetish. Hisoka had chosen a sensible robe for the battle. But now it lay torn and stained with blood, of whom he could not quite tell. The tears ruffled and whipped about as he spun and lunged and stabbed his way through the battle field.

Many of the Shinigami were falling. More, it seemed, than Hollows. Hisoka cursed as he cut swathes through the ranks of weak Hollow. He himself was not powerful, but he was still a 5th seat, which made him many ranks above the hapless shinigami who threw themselves into the churning ranks of hollows only to be spat back out in pieces. He shouted encouragements to his men on the lines, but blood and fear cut his voice away before it could reach them. Hisoka cringed as he watched his counterparts fall. A talon skimmed over his head, narrowly missing his face. Reflexively Hisoka shot forward, driving his blade hilt-deep through the skull of the attacking hollow. "Do they even know what they're fighting for? Or is this just mindless blood-lust driving them?" So many useless deaths for Gilgamesh's unholy war. It made Him sick. Hisoka was fighting in a haze, only realizing how many he had already cut down long after he had finished them. But their ranks were endless, Gilgamesh had sent these men to their deaths so that he could fight a battle that he may never win. Hisoka felt how futile this endeavor was, and lost himself in his own mind. Against these low-level hollows he barely had to think. 

It took a few moments for him to realize his blade was no longer biting anything. His eyes regained their focus to a disturbing sight. The hollows had parted around him, leaving him in a small clearing not unlike a knot in a tree. The sand below his feet seethed. His hands shook, and Hisoka finally noticed that his hair was plastered to his forehead, and that his robes stuck to his back. His skin shone with blood and sweat. He had been expending himself far too much fighting the grunts, and he would feel it now that he would battle a challenging opponent. Several yards in front of him the sand churned, the hollows seemed mindful of keeping their distance, Hisoka clutched Fushiki in front of him, his left hand resting above his right. He would not die. Not for Gilgamesh. Through the dust, blood and sand the hollow rose, its mask rising in a sick grin. Four thick arms hoisted up its serpentine body, leaving itself half submerged. The right eye of the beasts mask was covered by its mask, leaving one mad eye locked on Hisoka, hungry. Two rows of wings peeled themselves from the scaled back of  the hollow, flaring their translucent skin. For a moment the hollow towered over Hisoka, locking eyes. Hisoka almost felt for a moment that the Hollow understood what was happening. Then it surged forward.

Nearly half of the hollow that had remained in the ground now came into view, revealing yet more wings that continued to unfurl all the way to the speared tail of the sickening creature. It lurched towards Hisoka, its four arms pumping, pulling it forward while its wings kept its body from dragging in the sand. The hollow moved with uncharacteristic speed, and it was all that Hisoka could do to roll out of its path. As the creature barreled past its arm shot across its body, moving its energy into rotation and sending its tail whipping about in an attempt to spear Hisoka. "On you're a clever fuck, aren't you?" Hisoka grimaced as he brough Fushiki around his body, blocking the spear with the flat slide of the blade. He slid from the force of the impact, the spear still pressed against his blade. "But I'm not going down that easy!" With a grunt, Hisoka shoved the tail away, sliding forward he brought his weight down along with his blade, severing the tail from the body of the Hollow. The moment of victory was cut short as Hisoka felt one of the beasts fists knock the wind out of him. It had sacrificed its own tail! Hisoka skidded to a stop in the air, blood trickling down the side of his head. The Hollow was in hot pursuit, its rows of wings pumping to keep it in the air. Hisoka loosely clutched Fushiki. A thin smile broke his face, for the first time in a long time he felt alive. He was here, all of his concerns were nowhere except here. Politics could wait, this was his life on the line.

Hisoka dropped to meet the Hollow, he feigned a swing, then ducked beneath the hand that came up to block him, spinning and slashing towards one of the fists coming to meet him. It severed cleaning above the elbow as the opposite fist made impact with Hisoka's body, jarring him as he wrestled for control of his downward trajectory. Finally he regained his composure, standing a good dozen meters below the hollow now, tasting copper. The hollow was angry, he could see it now. It writhed above him, flailing its stump of an arm in anguish. Hisoka would have laughed if he hadn't been worried about a punctured rib. He glanced at Fushiki, watching the reiatsu spark across the blade. Fushiki was having a good time as well. Hisokas attention was drawn back to the Hollow as it roared in fury. "I can't take another hit like that..." Hisoka stood his ground, raising his blade. He swung as if to feign again, and the hollow took the bait, not bothering to block. Hisoka swung Fushiki directly at the mask the of hollow, and met no resistance as Fushiki bit into the Hollow, who was too surprised to even attack in its final moments. Holding the blade as steady as possible, Hisoka let the downward momentum of the Hollow do the work, cleaving the beast in half evenly from head to tail. 

Hisoka stood for several moments after the hollow's body had demeterialized. His body finally crumpled under the stress, shaking uncontrollably as Hisoka worked Fushiki back into its sheath. He stumbled back to the field barracks, the taste of copper filling his mouth and making him wretch. The last few yards he was dragged by a Shinigami he didn't know. He was laid on a stretcher as he felt the cool reiatsu blanket his body in sweet relief. His bones and flesh slowly mended, but he was going to be out of the fight for a while. "I seem to have the tendency of getting myself grievously injured." Hisoka joked to the shinigami healing him, but all that came out were a few gurgles and a hiccup, which was quite painful. Hisoka didn't need the stern eyes of the medic to know that he should stop talking, and he did so thankfully. For a moment again he had lived. He would treasure it, and all that had come with it.

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Wordcount:1260

Potential GP: 25

(I'm doing this on a computer that doesn't have a word-processing software, which means I am typing it directly into the post box, please excuse misspellings and the like.)

As he stepped through the portal, a feeling of doom came over him.

It wasn’t a doom that he could escape either, nothing that he could really choose. The noble’s blade rested by his side as he stood right outside the portal that had been opened by the Golden King, the pride-filled ruler of the Seiretei, and perhaps even of this realm. Kashe blinked as he simply stood there, watching the fifth division fall into combat, their blades singing the song of death. There was nothing in that song for Kashe though. What had caused this to be necessary? What had provoked this combat? It was the duty of the Gotei to defend, not to attack… A flying Hollow launched a Cero at the grounded noble, trying its best to stop the flood of Shinigami at its source. What foolishness, yet greatness in that moment. But it was unable to be done. Kashe glanced upwards as the Cero flew towards him, then raised his blade to meet it. The two attacks met, but the Cero was still weaker than the noble’s arm. Why? Kashe did not move to attack the Hollow, instead keeping himself in place. The Hollow chortled slightly, trying to provoke the noble into attacking, but was quickly met with multiple Hado that flew from the hands of the portal’s guardians.

Kashe had assigned his squad to defend the spellcasters, trying to hold some semblance of the Gotei in place. Nothing could shake his feeling that this was not where they were supposed to be. Even now, humans were dying in the World of the Living, and no one was there to guard them. Every single Shinigami in the Seiretei and the World of the Living had been called for this assault, and for what? One man’s pride? One man’s want to be called King? That was what justified this attack, which was what forced them to confront the enemy. Naota tried to hide it in pretty words, saying this was a “Holy War”. What kind of god gave his blessing to do exactly what he had not commanded?

No God gives that command. This future leads to naught but suffering. Ookami’s voice spoke into the noble’s mind, comforting him in his speech. Kashe stood outwardly calm, but at the same time raging inside. The anger inside him, not directed at the Hollows, but at what the Seiretei had become. “When did we become a tyrant’s personal army…” He whispered under his breath. He had been training for this, the time when he would fight against Hollowdom, but that dream seemed as hollow as the beings which he had despised. His dream hadn’t taken place in Hueco Mundo, but instead in the World of the Living. He had been the defender, the one preventing the humans from being killed, from dying. That was what the Gotei had been charged with, not this… slaughter.

Another question showed up in his mind, this time deeper. Had they been abandoned? The Spirit King, he had not commanded this. He had left the Gotei in place to defend, not to attack. This was the exact opposite of what he commanded, and as such this was happening. The third division was both fighting, and also pulling back the half-dead Shinigami. So many flames have been snuffed… The ritual that Kashe had done… this demeaned it. War was not for this. This war was not just, not justified. Nothing could justify this. Gilgamesh had provoked this war; he had been the one to make this travesty. And for what? A golden crown that meant nothing. Kashe turned away from the battlefield, looking out into the desert. I could leave. Ookami’s interest piqued at this, turning towards the noble’s mind. Is that what you want? Kashe blinked. Ookami? The questioning thought was pushed out. Why did the spirit not object? Go to Las Noches, but do not fight them. I will guide you. Kashe nodded, then turned to his sword. “Pierce the fabric of time, Ookami!” A white barrier formed around Kashe, hiding him from the battlefield. For a brief moment, Kashe was relieved. Hiding here… it meant that nothing outside mattered. But it couldn’t last.

The barrier faded, revealing Kashe in his normal garb. Glowing runes lined his blade, each writing the name of his Zanpakuto. Follow me. Kashe nodded inside, then began to rush forwards. High-speed movement interspersed with normal movement, all hidden from view. Nothing followed him, nothing was provoked. None of the Hollows or Arrancar noticed him as he moved rapidly between each of them, not leaving enough time for them to recognize him as a threat.

As he stopped in front of the wall, he sheathed his sword, sealing away his Shikai as he did so. As he walked forwards, he hoped to find someone that would recognize him, and not attack him. Remembering the human custom, he raised his hands and placed them behind his head. It was not worth fighting a war that was not just. It would be better to give up and help them remove Gilgamesh from power than to help his own people become demons.

860 Words | 17 GP

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KASHE TANAKA HAS GONE ROGUE!

If another Shinigami or Hollow wants to fight Kashe at the walls, then I can do that.