Northeast Seireitei

[Nobody]

The area around the point of the Arrancar's impact from his downward strike was marred, cracked and indented. Solidified magma surrounding the Date and his partner in a defensive ward begins to recede as the around around the massive dent begins to mend itself. Kishō's eyes stared at the spectacle before him, the cracks along his bankai's form grown wider, the lava spilling more freely from between them as the construct glows a bit brighter. The useless drones interfering aside, something didn't sit well with him. This creature sought to face a Captain with such paltry strength?

Perhaps what bothered him the most was the fact this wretched cur was actually...laughing? Even as his body was being beaten, battered, cut within the air he laughed. 'What madness is this?' He couldn't help but wonder. His dragons colliding violently with the Arrancar, Kishō stares briefly. 'Was I imagi-' As though to answer his unspoken thoughts, the sound of a heartbeat reverberates in his ear like a massive war drum. His eyes widen as the lava and kidō are destroyed, expelled from around where the enemy should have been like a balloon popping. There is a glow, and that same laughter as the glowing figure lowers to the ground. A look of disgust paints the Date's face.

"Filthy Bastard. That could only be-"

"-a Miracle…”

Unlike many, Kishō is aware of the history of the Soul King and his respective parts. It is however, only with this incident does he realize the enemy they are currently facing is in possession of one said part, and which part he actually possesses. 'Tch, this has become annoying.' He curses to himself. Despite being armed with such knowledge, rather feeling threatened or overwhelmed he instead feels annoyed. He does not believe the enemy to be one incapable of defeat, only that defeating it will demand more time, patience and power than he cared to expend.

The desecrator appears before one of the weaker interlopers, a sickening thunderous clap that echoes across not only the Ninth Division, but perhaps the Northeastern quadrant of the Seireitei. Next comes the second interloper, stronger than the first, though still weak all the same. The ground surrounding and beneath the bankai is destroyed and uprooted, the Arrancar performing attack after attack in effort to destroy the interloper's bankai. He offers no breathing room to the owner of the Bankai. The fates of those attacked are irrelevant to Kishō who has not paid the shinigami any true mind, instead committing his focus to the enemy.

With those attacks launched it seemed that Kishō's turn was next as the Sand cur appears in the air above him. The volcanic titan's arms move over head, the cracks in its body spilling and sloshing lava about. The first weakling that had intruded upon this fight, still unaware of his weakness appears again between Kishō and his target and vice versa. As his blade swings upwards towards the attacking Arrancar what he would also find is a volley of compressed lava pellets shooting upwards, a counter-move Kishō intended to use against the Arrancar, one that would not be deterred due to a mere interloper. The force of the pellets firing and the heat from the lava that composed them would ensure they flew past and through the shinigami who's move may very well had perhaps dampened the enemy's attack somewhat. At the very least weakened it enough that the lava born projectiles would continue through the air, puncturing through the residual pressure and also through the enemy's hierro, flesh, and muscle.

Mountainous arms still upraised the Bankai's body shifts slightly during the course of the attack, turning its body away from the enemy to further protect its master. Kishō's thoughts do not linger on the shinigami that had moved to defend him and that he in turn un-hesitantly shot through to exploit an opening, or the message and machinations of the other interloper unconfident in his competency and even moreso in his ability. To this end he does not count the power of the miracle out just yet, nor does he perceive the lesions currently swelling and growing along the trunk of the tree or even the roots rising up from the ground for an attack of their own. He, like the others couldn't possibly have predicted that a battle on the other side of the seireitei would or could affect what was transpiring here.

Throughout the exchange the cracks along the bankai continue to grow and expand, causing more of the lava spilling out forming large puddles on the ground, some of the puddles merging together.

 

[GhoulBunny]

Yūgure hadn’t moved.

From atop the molten shoulder of Mōshoishi, she stood framed by heat. The gauntlets clinging to her arms vented faint, soundless mist into the crumbling sky, that scentless haze curling forward with unrelenting patience. It didn’t spread. It drifted toward one man alone.

Gallieno.

Her gaze held him—sharp, gold, unwavering. She’d seen it. The misstep. The subtle drag of his heel that others might’ve missed. But not her. Not with her precision. Not after years of reading even the smallest openings like scripture. The mist had touched him. However faint its influence, it was there. That was enough. A slight tremble now, a deeper collapse later. The longer the intoxicating mist stayed on him, the more it would intensify.

It seemed as if they finally were given the upper hand, when suddenly Gallieno was laughing, his voice returned with that same smug cadence.
​

“…So that is death… and this must be a miracle…”​

It took effort not to respond.

Not to roll her eyes or clench her fists. She didn’t indulge the irritation clawing beneath her calm. But inside, she felt it. Pressing. Scraping. As though each syllable etched a mark against her ribs.

Around her, the others moved like parts of a storm. Takamura danced first, his blade slicing arcs of wind with rhythmic clarity. Wind snarled behind each step, his Shikai howling through the chaos. Kishō raged at the center—lava pooling beneath his heels, hurling ruin with every flex of molten will. And Michiya… Michiya bloomed madness. His Bankai split open the earth, roots writhing, eyes blinking across the battlefield as they tracked the Espada’s every movement.

And her? Still standing. A witness. A ghost. A specter. The thought crept in without welcome: What am I doing here? She had no Bankai and now—facing something soaked in the Soul King’s spiritual filth—now, the weight of it pressed heavier than she liked. The Espada shouldn’t have risen from that. And yet…

Her gut twisted.

And then—like an echo from somewhere colder—she remembered Hideo.
​

“Tell me, cousin…Have you achieved Bankai yet?”​

The words had haunted her more than she’d admit. She knew the words were said out of spite, maybe anyways. But the words still rang true. She hadn’t achieved bankai. She was focused on so many other things that she totally slacked in that regard. She knew what she had to do…she had to survive this battle.

Or she would never get the chance to be what the Shihōin needed her to be. Because without it—without something greater—she would never rise.

Not above her obtuse cousin.

Gallieno charged again, his latest swing cleaving through the remains of smoke and strategy. It came fast—brutal. A slab of muscle and spiritual mass. But the others were ready.

Takamura moved in first. His blades struck in a blur of precision, wind gathering at his heels in a rushing hum. The vortex shrieked outward, attempting to carve through the Espada’s strike.


She had still been standing atop Mōshoishi’s crumbling shoulder when Kishō’s bankai’s massive molten arm moved to shield the air around them.

But she was gone.

Below, Michiya’s trap triggered. His roots lashed with serpentine hunger, mouths opening wide, gnashing with anticipation. They struck from angles unseen, their impact coordinated and merciless. Then the ground trembled—not from force, but from resonance. Michiya’s hammer struck, and something beneath the battlefield responded. The tremor wasn’t felt through the feet. It was felt through the bones.

And through all of this, a slight glimmer of light could be seen. But no one could really tell where it was coming from.

Gallieno’s spiritual presence—the stolen thread of the Soul King—wavered. Severed. If only for a moment.

In the distance, the sky cracked. One by one, the Garganta portals began to shut. Then Takamura was back in the fray, moving through the gaps left by root and fire. He positioned himself just as the Espada reacted, and in one sweeping motion, his blades crossed.



Kishō responded in kind. Even with Takamura mid-strike, he didn’t falter. His Bankai launched a barrage—pellets of molten stone fired upward, tearing through air and impact alike. One passed directly through Takamura’s path.

And then the spot beside Kishō was occupied again. Yūgure stood where she had always been. The edge of Mōshoishi’s ruined shoulder. Watching. The wind tousled what was left of her sash—no longer neatly tied, its threads now loose and swaying, glinting faintly in the heat-haze.

Then the battlefield shifted again.

Roots erupted once more, snapping out of fractured stone like serpents answering a silent call—Michiya’s command rippling through the earth like instinct. The Espada twisted to meet them, but before the roots struck home, Mōshoishi groaned beneath them—its molten limbs reconfiguring, the very mountain shifting under strain and fury.

Yūgure was no longer visible.

The spot she had occupied—where Kishō’s bankai had shielded her instinctively—stood empty. And then she was there again.

Lava burst upward, debris flung skyward in irregular arcs. Roots splintered outward, reaching for their prey. And through it all, faint glints of light sparked—tiny, vanishing things, like stars dying in silence. They flashed and faded in places no one seemed to be looking. On shattered stone. On the edge of smoke. On the curve of a broken roof.

And again—Yūgure vanished. Not even the air stirred in her wake. Only the vacant space remained, like a breath held too long.

Until—

She was back. Standing atop Mōshoishi. As if she’d never flinched. As if the battlefield hadn’t shifted. As if she was silently watching the battle take place. But in the disarray of flame and root and noise, she was blinking in and out of space like a ghost —threading herself through the chaos with surgical purpose.​

 

[Adonai]

---

Battle Dance

Gallieno felt it, the disconnect between himself and the power of the Soul King’s Heart. While the heart still functioned as a normal organ its divine power was lost, temporarily. However this turn of fortune came a bit too late. This Arrancar was, at first, curious about the power of his fragment and having learned what it can do he no longer has a need for it in combat. At this moment he can now fight with his full attention dedicated to killing these annoyances.

Before he landed on the roof he was airborne, above Kisho punching downward and launching a heavily compressed wave of air. This attack was prepped with the strength to destroy the golem. This was not a simple strike made of contrived actions, it was a strike that was launched to not on contest with but damage or destroy a Bankai. The mere sight of the attack should have made that clear but it seems some Shinigami have overstepped their boundaries and abilities. Takamura was able to dissipate the attack launched at him, an attack that was launched with just enough strength to kill someone of his level, that level being someone who only possesses a Shikai. A veteran of the Unhallowed Wars Gallieno knows better than to waste too much strength against a Shikai wielding Shinigami when those with Bankai are around him. So appearing between Kisho and Gallieno may have not been in his best interest.

The massive wave of compressed air comes rushing down, launched by the Espada’s full might. The air is heavy, thick, and dense, seemingly more like a solid than a gas. While his ability to manipulate winds with his Shikai is impressive he will find it lacking in the face of this attack. Manipulation can only get one so far, it is not full control and as a result he could only hope to sheer off some of the destructive might of this torrential air pressure before being overtaken by it and launched down towards Kisho and his Bankai. It seems as if Kisho had responded to the attack in kind with one of his own, and with no sense of care for Takamura’s presence above him.

Pellets of Lava fly up at the Espada, pushing through the compressed air and further dissipating it thanks to the intrusion of Takamura. Pushing through said air slowed their velocity enough for him to clap his hands together, a similar feat he showed against Takamura earlier, to knock them off their trajectory, crashing all over the division and colliding with the tree Michiya had resummoned. With another punch he launches himself away from the overhead position he held above Kisho, the moment his feet touch a solid surface he uses Sonido to further displace himself, which is how he now stands upon a rooftop watching the result of the clashing attacks. Magma and fire coating the area, of which he expects Kisho to still be in full control of.

Speaking of full control it seems like Michiya had launched a new attack with a new tree, roots erupting from the roof threatening to entangle him and perhaps do more harm to him. The moment the roots appeared the Espada noticed how sickly they looked compared to before, infected and unable to move as fast as the Shinigami may have intended. Taking the route of caution Gallieno used Sonido again to move away from the infected and dying roots, narrowing his eyes and wondering why he would sabotage his own weapon like that. Then he catches the faintest hint of Reiatsu emanating from the infection, Cazador. He did not know what that particular comrade could do but it seems now infection is his forte and for it to spread all the way out to his location means something unseen must be going on beneath the ground.

Landing once again in a spot un tainted by lava and fire and he took notice that the inactive woman was now gone, his eyes looking left and right, searching for her. Then she reappeared on the golem once more.

”Hmm…”

He fixes his posture, catching glints and sparkles in the air and she is gone again only to reappear. He narrows his void white eyes at her and shakes his head. He then speaks all in one single breath.

”Spreading a silly string across the arena of battle to do what? Cut me? Capture me? Cause me to spring some sort of Kido trap? You have my permission to leave, I have no interest in killing the weak. Return to your dwelling to play with your fibers.”

He looks around and he can clearly see the strings now that he has fully taken notice of them. They seem sharp, sharp enough to cut through his skin should he rush in to move. To him it is childish, thinking that he has no room to move, no where to go, that she has trapped him. She is wrong.

Gallieno punches the ground causing dust to mix with the rising smoke from the fire on the battlefield. Quite some distance away another plume of dust erupts and out flies the Espada, seen taking a very deep breath before closing his mouth. He knows of her ability and how it achieved his first death, he knows better than to breathe around her but honestly it is more of an annoyance than a threat. To counter it he merely just has to reconfigure his muscles to maintain his balance or in this instance, hold his breath. The Shinigami with the infected tree resorts to trickery much like the woman and while he was bold enough to face him head on Takamura lacks the strength to kill him, if only he had a Bankai like the magma Shinigami.

Far as he is concerned he is only focused on fighting Kisho, Takamura’s fate is unknown to him, Michiya now has to contest with a long distance battle against Cazador and Yugure has been outright told to leave and that she is too weak to do anything to him. He senses Kisho is up to something, that sloshing of lava is not meaningless and he takes action from range. Using his immense strength he slams both fists into the ground, causing their section of 9th Division to buckle and shift violently. Massive sink holes open up, along with jagged rocks jutting out from the ground like spears. One of these said spears impales the tree of Michiya’s Bankai along with the remains of the other tree that had been attacked by Gallieno earlier.

With the terrain destroyed and rearranged Yugure’s threads are no longer in play as they have more than likely been snapped or pulled down below. The same goes for the pooling lava at the feet of the Golem, it had been broken apart and scattered. The Espada begins hopping from jutting rock to jutting rock before kicking the head off of one of such rocks and having it careen towards the midsection of Mōshoishi. Should the rock hit it would pierce through the golem but not exit, leaving it wedged inside of the construct. He leaps again, kicking the head off of another jagged rock aiming for the head this time where Kisho stands. He has surmised that the construct is powerful but not fast and so he will dismantle it until its owner is forced to face him, face to face.

---

​

 

[dem0nzlust]

At first, it seemed everything was falling into place, with the invading force slowly being pushed back or defeated, allowing other squads to collapse and assist them in their battles. Although still the ring leaders of this entire invasion, from what he could tell, remained at large, with right now only one current shinigami challenging them. This was the benefit granted to monitoring every battle, taking the present; he was gathering information constantly, allowing him to calculate the best outcomes. In the same breath, unfortunately, came the curse of knowledge; no matter how intellectual Michiya may have been, he wasn't a supercomputer, so that meant even he was privy to human-made errors. In this case, Michiya happened to make a grave miscalculation, being the first to sense the rapid spread of the infection happening as the roots that launched out towards Gallieno showed signs of infection, along with the tree taking damage from scattered debris projectiles and lava. He didn't panic or make any rash actions while at the same time remaining fully alert to the battle at hand, erecting up multi-layered barrier to protect him from any of the scattered shards he launched to dispatch the strings. He listened closely to the conversational Espada Cazador, and way before his father, he understood the dangers of what was happening if he didn't contain it. Acting in a preemptive measure, he quickly pulled out a respiratory mask to protect from any airborne pathogens, and unlike Kagi, Michiya had the means to properly contain this infection.

The difference between Kagi and Michiya's Bankai was two different things; Kagi's tree was the Bankai itself, whereas Michiya's was simply a construct created by his Bankai. The last key detail that came from the use of the trees was how Michiya allowed him to manipulate different aspects of the tree and even mutate them for enhanced property through his Zanpakuto modifications. The second the rapidly spreading infection took over the tree, Michiya had already withdrawn from his pocket a cluster of bombs with faces thrown toward his tree, with each one cackling manically before exploding into the tree, while at the same time, the tree's natural defense to illness activated, causing it to compartmentalize to contain the illness. Once the bombs had exploded, the entire tree, along with any roots in play, crystallized it and the reiatsu as if the entire tree had become petrified with the bomb's effects. The tree then began withering away and crumbling apart while in a quarantined state, and it was then that Michiya heard the voice of Shidarizakura Hakuoki.

"Michiya, you are starting to spread yourself too thin. Let the others deal with their situation. We helped provide a fighting chance; if they perish, it simply means they were meant to be nothing more than nutrients to me. I think we will need a more direct approach with this one, and hopefully, your comrade didn't get her fighting spirit crushed..."

Michiya continues to watch the movements of Gallieno, who seemed to favor attacking like a barbarian with brute strength, but controlled nonetheless, which only made things more troublesome. From the looks of it, Kisho had no plans to cooperate as Takamura almost got caught up in friendly fire. As for the other two, they seemed to be more willing to cooperate, but outside of their Zanpakuto capabilities, he had no information on what their strengths were. A very difficult predicament they were placed in against an opponent like this, and he knew the same kido spell wouldn't work again, so that left one option to try to wrap this up before he gained access to his heart again or had the chance to use his Ressurecion if he hadn't already before showing up.

"If he wants someone to face him up close and personal, let's give him what he asks for."

Exchanging the sword he wielded for the demonic-looking cleaver, he launched it at Gallieno with it rapidly spinning toward him like a buzzsaw, knowing it would be foolish to think that he was only focused on just that golem. When the blade drew in closer to Gallieno, it immediately morphed into Tentoki, the second of his wooden demons and the true power of his Zanpakuto's Bankai, with its leg outstretched to attempt to deliver a powerful downward kick onto his head, with its leg coated in tree sap. Michiya's eyes tracked the movements of Gallieno maticously after observing the first rock sent into the golem, and when he tried to send another jagged rock at Kisho's golem, it was then that Michiya made his move. Using the Hado Daichi Ten'yo to take control of the jutted rock he used as footing just before taking off the send another rock at the golem to violently shift throwing Gallieno off balance, and at the same lava drenched rubble on the ground flew at him from multiple directions attempting to burry him in the ground as his Wooden demon would intercept him from above driving him back down while inflicting its own disatrous effects. He continued to sync his actions with others, and with Gallieno not being able to fly or stay airborne, Kisho's spreading lava encompassing all of the 9th division was gradually going to become a big hindrance and hazard to the muscle-bound Espada. All the meanwhile, Michiya remained vigilant in case his precautions weren't enough to stop the polymorphic virus, and in his hand, he palmed one of his injectors secretly, but the true fun remained if this drug was meant for him or Gallieno.​

 

[Takamura Raizen]

The sky itself was crushing him.

Gallieno’s downward strike had broken through his defenses, the compressed air so dense it felt less like atmosphere and more like stone falling on his shoulders. It hurled him down, his stormlight scattering into erratic arcs, blood flecking through the rush of wind as his battered frame plummeted. Pain scoured him raw—the flayed meat of his arm burning with every twist of air, ribs screaming from the impact of strain.

But worse than the pain was the truth.

He was falling because he was weak.

Not just in this moment. Not just against this Espada. But because he had let himself stay stagnant. Years of battle, years of discipline, and still he stood beneath the weight of others’ power. Gallieno mocked him with silence, his focus reserved for those with Bankai, as though Takamura’s storm wasn’t worth the breath. Kishō’s lava spilled in molten arcs, searing the air, and Michiya’s threads wound deeper into the battlefield’s bones. Both of them fought on levels beyond his own. He knew it. He hated it.

And then—the bitterest cut—his own Vice-Captain. The memory struck sharper than the fall. Raizen didn’t know what orders the Captain had given; he only knew the truth of what he’d endured. His superior had once come for him, striking with the intent to cripple—knees, arms, bones meant to be shattered. It hadn’t felt like a test. It hadn’t felt like training. It had felt like judgment. A verdict delivered without a word: too weak to lead, too weak to be a sword of Squad 11. If not for this invasion—if not for war tearing through the Seireitei—Raizen would already be broken at the hands of the one meant to lead him.

That truth stoked the storm.

His Reiatsu erupted mid-fall, no longer a quiet hum. It cracked outward, arcs of silver lightning splitting the air as the weight of pressure folded in. Dust and smoke bent toward him, as though dragged into an unseen vortex. The storm didn’t wait—it demanded.

A molten volley screamed across his path. He twisted, a blade snapping out, ripping wind into a jagged seam that tore the projectile off-course. Heat scalded him as it passed—blisters rising instantly on his cheek. Another burst ripped past his shoulder, searing flesh. Jagged spears of stone thrust up to meet him. He cut through the narrowest gap, every strike angled so the wind dragged Gallieno’s footing away—never once straying into Kishō’s lava or Michiya’s weaving kido. His storm wasn’t there to clash with his allies. It was there to make Gallieno look only at him.

Impact shattered the ground. A crater split wide beneath him, rock and ash exploding outward. For a heartbeat he lay amidst ruin, every breath jagged, copper on his tongue. Then he rose.

The storm rose with him.

His blades crossed before him, arcs of lightning crawling along their edges. The air thickened, suffocating, bending light around him as though the battlefield itself was being dragged into his orbit. Blood streamed down his arm, ribs cracked beneath his skin, but his eyes—those golden-amber eyes—burned unyielding.

“Enough!”

The word rang like thunder through the chaos.

He stepped forward, every motion heavy with strain, every movement dragging a weight of wind and static behind it. His stormlight coiled tighter, every arc snapping like a predator’s teeth.

“You wanted miracles.” His voice cut sharper, the edge of fury and something darker beneath it. “You wanted Captains. You wanted Bankai.” His gaze narrowed, jaw set, each syllable carved from blood and resolve. “Even my own Lieutenant thought me too weak to stand! Even he raised his blade against me!”

Lightning exploded down his arms, his storm swirling wider, pressing down on the battlefield until the very air seemed ready to fracture. And yet within that reckless tempest, each arc and strike was guided—meant to corral, to bind, to force Gallieno’s eyes on him and only him.

“But I’m still here! And you—” his voice cracked, cold as the steel in his hands.

The storm did not ask permission. It devoured.

The ground fractured beneath his next step. Dust and embers bent toward him, dragged into a spiral of static before blasting outward. The oppressive weight of his Reiatsu spread in crushing waves, warping sound, drowning breath. To those who felt it—ally or foe—it was suffocation wrapped in lightning, the sense of standing beneath a storm too vast to survive. To Gallieno, it was a warning: the Shikai he had dismissed was no longer simply cutting air. It was cutting inevitability.

And then Raizen moved.

He launched himself forward in a blur, not graceful but violent. Every swing of his twin blades seemed wild, desperate—but each was aimed, each curve of wind and flash of lightning forcing Gallieno’s path, channeling him toward a trap. What looked like fury was design.

Silver arcs carved craters into the ground as he advanced, the storm following his blades like a rabid beast loosed from its chain. Wind shrieked, debris twisted into jagged whirls, lightning cracked through the gaps. One blade came down in a brutal chop—seemingly overextended—just as the second cut low, their arcs crossing to funnel the Espada into the maw of a storm-borne eruption.

It was not elegance. It was not patience.

It was wrath made deliberate.

His blood sang through every motion, hot against the cold bite of the storm. His fury sharpened him, the grief of stagnation and betrayal honed into every strike. Even as Kishō’s fire raged and Michiya’s roots tore the earth apart, Raizen carved forward—not in defiance of them, but to give them the opening. If Gallieno’s focus was on him, then perhaps, just perhaps, they could finish it.

And through it all, his voice lingered, still sharp as thunder.

“You don’t get to look past me!”​

 

[Nobody]

​

”Spreading a silly string across the arena of battle to do what? Cut me? Capture me? Cause me to spring some sort of Kido trap? You have my permission to leave, I have no interest in killing the weak. Return to your dwelling to play with your fibers.”​

As the abomination speaks, Kishō's eyes glance towards Yūgure. While he had not been aware of what she was up to, the words of the sand bastard has painted a picture for him. He realizes what the woman had brought with her, what she had attempted to use. He also realizes that the cur does not perceive Yūgure, not truly. In his dismissal of her, it seems he has fully disregarded her as any sort of threat. Kishō's eyes then trace about them, and he cannot help but feel that the hinderances that arrived were prolonging the extermination of the filth before them.

'Should I just kill them first?'

The thought cannot help but cross his mind. If killing them would remove the shackles hindering him then for the good of the Sereitei he should, better still for them to die by his hands than to feel the shame of being killed by an enemy they've allowed to get so far. Regrettably, time to further consider such things was a luxury denied to him. The espada makes his move to free himself from the woven prison of Yūgure in an explosion of dust and debris.

"Listen well woman." The Date speaks as he prepares to continue his assault against their enemy. "That wretched thing seems to have dismissed you. Among the weaklings here, you are the strongest one...so we will use his disregard for you."

The Espada displays his power, power unimpaired by the sealing of the miracle within him. The cracks along with titanic bankai begin to glow as the terrain becomes mangled and misshapen from the force of the Espada. Mōshoishi lets out a thunderous bellow as massive stone is lodged into her midsection, and still the cracks glow. As the enemy focuses on Kishō, the weaklings make their move, focusing on the enemy. In the storm of confusion, Kishō's mouth moves, speaking words meant only for Yūgure. With each second pass, the cracks along Mōshoishi burn brighter, and brighter still. Glowing furiously as the 12th's weakling displays his usage of Kidō to intercept and command the rubble meant to be weaponized by the espada, while also attempting to flank him.

The 11th's weakling barks loudly, wounded pride fueling a battered body. Blind to his own weakness and incompetence he too moves to draw the enemy's focus, eager to have the espada's attention on him. Throughout this the massive bankai, like lighthouse shown brightly and then...the bankai erupted. Super heated volcanic shards were launched like shrapnel and meteors. Propelled with such force, certain to pellet the area of the enemy and the space surrounding him, allies be damned. It is the lack of true collateral damage however that reveals that it is not the destruction of his bankai, nor could it truly be considered an explosion. Rather, it was the expelling of the outershell, or much of it at least, of Mōshoishi.

Much of its covering gone, the construct now appears more liquid than anything, its every action causing more of the super heated liquid to spread and splatter about, no longer contained or inhibited by the volcanic covering. Atop of it remained its master Kishō, Yūgure who he had been keeping alongside him like Mōshoishi's former outer layer, absent as if she too had been expelled in the eruption.

Kishō huffs as he stares onward impassively, observing the actions of the two interlopers, a bitter taste in his mouth as he resolves to end things...one way or another.

 

[GhoulBunny]

Dammit.

That was all that came to mind as Yūgure stared, shock knotting in her chest, when Gallieno clearly noted her Tenshi Heisō: Hissaki Kumoi. She’d thought she had a chance—threading a web that would force him to choose between stillness and being sliced to ribbons.

But—
​

“Spreading a silly string across the arena of battle to do what? Cut me? Capture me? Cause me to spring some sort of Kidō trap? You have my permission to leave, I have no interest in killing the weak. Return to your dwelling to play with your fibers.”​

The words cut through her like a knife. Did this hunk of meat call her weak? Cast her off like an insect? Usually, she wouldn’t let it get under her skin—not truly. But right now? Rage flooded her veins, hot and absolute. Her yellow eyes glinted; her hands curled into fists.


I’ll kill him.


The thought was so raw it almost startled her. She wasn’t one to let her emotions run wild, but there was nothing in her now except hatred for the monster in front of them. She didn’t look away from Gallieno. All she saw was red.



She didn’t even flinch when he smashed the ground, hurling rocks their way. She barely had to move—the colossal Bankai kept most of it at bay. Her mind raced. She would prove herself. And the only way was to tear this bastard apart.


​

“Listen well, woman.”​

Kishō’s voice snapped her back from her rage filled mind. She’d been a heartbeat from charging him and tearing his heart out herself.

​

“That wretched thing seems to have dismissed you. Among the weaklings here, you are the strongest one… so we will use his disregard for you.”​

Her gaze slid from Gallieno to the man beside her. She hadn’t expected a compliment from Kishō, but in its offhand way, it was one. She gave a single, sharp nod.



Fine. She’d use the Espada’s carelessness against him. And when the time came, she would be the one to rip his heart out.



She didn’t speak. She watched—Michiya, whom she’d never met but knew of, casting Kidō to redirect the stones Gallieno had sent flying. Then her eyes flicked to the Eleventh Division man—name unknown—charging straight at the Espada. Heroic and foolish in equal measure.



Suddenly, Mōshoishi erupted. The force knocked her off her feet so fast she nearly went skidding, but she caught herself, boots crashing into tile as she landed in a low crouch on a nearby rooftop. Far enough to vanish into shadow; close enough that the haze of her Shikai still lapped at Gallieno’s senses. Even if the bastard held his breath, he had to breathe at some point or another.



Heat rolled off Mōshoishi in waves. The outer layer had blown apart, and the Bankai moved like liquid—molten, uncontained, splattering with every shift. She couldn’t help but wonder what Kishō intended by turning the battlefield into liquid fire.



She exhaled, steadying the rush in her head. She couldn’t believe how close she’d come to sprinting at Gallieno—that wasn’t her. The hatred coiling tight in her ribs was enough to keep her still, even as it burned to hold her back. She had to do this right if she wanted Galleno dead so all of this could end.



Let him be overconfident. Let him forget her. She would show the son of a bitch what that costs.
​

 

[TherosAestas]

Eighth Division had managed to remain untouched, almost eerily calm despite the members coming and going with the dead. The floods of the nearby divisions had subsided, a single threat expelled from the seireitei, but not through eradication. The truest calm before the storm. Maybe it was the presence of a piece of the soul king within their vaults or metaphorical bubble of safety that seemed to surround the division that caused a deep feeling of unease to settle within Suzume Feng’s gut.

Suzume!

Jigitarisu’s voice sharpened her focus, her gaze honing in on the sword in her hand.

You worry too much, let’s play!

Her grasp on the hilt of her zanpakuto tightened as felt the looming presence of his stilted spirit. ”Now is not the time for playing, Fox. I’m going to find Hideo. He doesn’t have the girl from Thirteenth to help keep him from doing something stupid anymore.” Suzume doesn't even bother sheathing Jigitarisu. Her usually calm voice rang out to the division.

”Eighth Division! Remember your orders! Should neither Hideo nor myself return, it is up to you to ensure the safety of the vaults!”

Before anyone could even look up at her, she was gone and a reverent silence descended upon Eighth Division once more.

—------TO CENTRAL!--------->

 

[Adonai]

---

Michiya was proving to be quite the annoyance as every time Gallieno let up on him he had something new to throw his way. Perhaps it was time to shift gears and focus on him exclusively. The sound of the thrown weapon, whooshing through the air, along with its Reiatsu signature, alerted the Espada to its presence. He was ready to dodge it as he was making his previous actions but when it shifted into a combative threat it threw the Espada off for a moment. As Gallieno was in the middle of his previous actions he made a decision to grab the thing by its leg, the sap covered leg that was attempting to kick him, and hurl it down towards the lava while swiftly severing his arm in the same breath. Even without the heart he still possesses High-speed Regeneration so reconstituting the arm was a trivial feat.

Michiya’s next move was to use Daichi Ten'yo to throw the Espada off balance, sadly this would have no effect because earlier he had reconfigured his muscle structure to counter the drunkenness he felt from Yugure’s Shikai, well to counter the effects of being thrown off balance at least. With her Shikai still active and with her zipping around the way she was, the vapors surely spread out again. However with his ability being in control of his muscles and to some greater extent precise control of his body she would have a hard time finding purchase with such a simple Shikai ability.

The golem is impaled by the jutting rock he kicked at it, he figured such a large target could not move fast enough to avoid it. His attention was split again, the sound of lightning crashing off to the side, the other Shinigami without Bankai had risen back up and was furious. But the fury of a storm is nothing more than a brisk wind against the mountain. Gallieno landed on another rock and watched the man call forth the full might of his Shikai before making his move against him. The attacks were seemingly wild, yet avoidable to some degree, it seemed odd. While Gallieno has been fighting like a barbarian have they not honed in on the fact that the man himself isn’t? That the mind within the fortress of muscle is on par, if not surpassing, the brawn?

“You don’t get to look past me!”

He vocalized his intent, reserved with the fact that he may not be able to land a killing blow but he can, at the very least, keep him in place while the others deliver it. Gallieno chooses to move, not letting himself remain stationary but remaining within the midst of the storming onslaught launched by Takamura. Then the golem caught his eye again, specifically its glow which had been growing brighter and brighter only now it was bright enough to take notice of once more. The outer shell of the Golem erupts and Gallieno uses this moment to escape the torrent of Takamura. He throws a punch, it lands firmly against a large chunk of rock acting like shrapnel, the punch was to slow down its velocity just enough to cause him no harm but propel him away from the storming Shinigami. Once out of the storm He uses the rock as a platform to land on what few structures remain in the division.

Defensive, that is how he has been fighting for the last few minutes now and he can feel it faintly, the presence of a miracle building within him. Whatever had blocked off his connection to the heart was waning and its power was slowly returning. But it was his time to strike back. Michiya was close to his assumption about the Espada’s Resurrección already being used. It has been active this entire time, his control of his muscles is his Resurrección. Given how it does not change his outer appearance he prefers to keep it constantly released. As a veteran of the Unhallowed Wars he has enough control over his Reiryoku to not let others privy to this bit of info. But now is a time for a true transformation. His body balloons, muscles rippling, surging, moving across his entire body. Expanding and contracting all at once, from everyone else’s perspective it looks like he is self destructing, collapsing under the weight of his own power.

With a final horrific scream steam erupts from his body as if the moisture in his body is being expelled and vaporized by the heat of the surrounding magma. But there is movement within the vapor and he rises to his feet once more although he looks much more frail than before, more ghastly…

True Horror

Gallieno blinks once, scanning the field on who to attack first. He starts with the annoyances. He turns on his foot and then…

*BOOM!!*

The rubble he was standing on explodes, this eye-catching moment masks what really happened as he is now behind Takamura, mid-punch with the air around himself blurring his form and warping around him.

*CRACK!!*

The air erupts and shatters like a massive explosion launching Takamura down towards the Magma below. This punch was more devastating than the one launched at Kisho earlier, whatever this form is it has increased his strength. Without the ability to make Reishi platforms he is at the mercy of his own teammates. Should they attempt to save him they may possibly regret it. Two birds and one stone. The Espada is not done just yet, suspended in the air he begins to… bounce off of said air. He continues to kick his legs, one by one, suspending himself in the air by some currently unknown means. His attention turns to Michiya and it happens again.

*BOOM!!*

The location Gallieno was standing in explodes, not into fire and smoke but a concussive force of air. He appears before Michiya and claps his hands together and the air cracks once again, shattering before the scientist. This explosive force sends Gallieno flying away from Michiya, however, the force of the clap was amplified. Unlike before where the clap would simply rip skin from bone this one sought oblivion through pure blunt concussive force. Whatever he held in his hand would more than likely be destroyed along with the upper half of his body. The force of the explosion was enough to temporarily crater the gathering lava.

Gallieno flew and the direction he was headed in was towards none other than Kisho Date. As he flew through the air Yugure would feel his gaze on her, merely noting her presence but nothing more, not even worth attacking or flinging debris at. When he arrives at Kisho he launches a punch devastating enough to knock down the magma form of Mōshoishi and send Kisho flying backwards off of it, which would no doubt reform given how much of its magma is spread about. The punch had two purposes, one was to attack and the other was to stop his momentum. He returns to kicking off of the air. Then they all hear it, like a war drum echoing in their ears, a heart beat.

”Ah, it has returned. The power of Miracles is mine once again. Did you Shinigami really think that sealing this power was enough to stop us? Did you forget that we are still Arrancar and have our own powers? Hm?”

He looks off towards Central Seireitei as much smoke bellows and rises, it gives him a reason to smile.

”Our leader has risen.”

---

​

 

[dem0nzlust]

The Essence of Combat

With the ongoing battle continuing onward, each passing moment forces his brain into overdrive. All of them moved with some conviction, driving their action, but one by one, they threw attack after attack to destroy this monstrosity, yet he continued to draw breath. The true challenge came from the unanswered question of what the limitations of the Soul King's Miracle truly were. However, in this chaotic battle with all their lives on the line, as much as he tried to hide it, a wide grin swept across Michiya's face, lost in his own madness of one-of-a-kind experience getting to record interesting specimens up close and personal. As a mad scientist in the pursuit of knowledge, his hunger knew no bounds, and each move he made served a purpose, be it testing the density of the muscles, the reaction speed of this monstrosity, gauging the potential of its control over his muscles, and, more importantly, the ability level of its instinctual fighting prowess and decision-making.

The very beginning of the battle provided a pivotal role where the element of surprise was at its strongest. Michiya watched closely how the ebb and flow of their encounter continued to play out, choosing to strike with kido strategically to keep the nature of his Zanpakuto concealed, besides in small bursts, all to control the amount of information gained to allow for one opening like this.

The true essence of combat: murder. The core of everything you do is to kill your opponent and to avoid being killed until only one of you remains standing. Everything else is considered background noise.

For this very natural essence, Michiya orchestrated his actions methodically to accomplish this notion. While the use of Diachi Ten'yo wasn't his main form of attack in the grand scheme of things, it all served his purpose to distract Gallieno for his wooden demon to execute an attack with precision to take him down. Unfortunately, with their opponent acting fast, severing his arm off while slamming it down into the lava, but this is where the second part of his plan went underway, albeit not exactly as he planned, but the Trojan horse proved successful nonetheless. Taking advantage of the sentient nature of his wooden demons, coupled with his expertise and research on others' Zanpakuto in preparation for this war, finally began to bear its fruit. As the wooden demon Tentoki took shape to kick down, it inhaled deeply, one big breath drawing in the haze from the Shihoin Zanpakuto, infusing it with the tree sap the demon produced. Gallieno, unaware not only of the toxicity the sap contained until the last second, but also of its volatile nature, which stemmed from countless modifications to his Zanpakuto. Only seconds after the wooden demon was slammed into the lava, its body immediately swelled up before detonating, threatening to submerge him in a rising splash of lava. Alongside a potent burst of miasma spread out, increasing the volume of Yugure Haze greatly in the area even more than before, with the toxic properties of the tree sap bonded with it, giving her a new lethal haze still fully under her control.

The Truth of Evolution

Knowing that even if the lava splashed upon Gallieno, it was nowhere near enough to stop him or cause significant enough damage. Unbeknownst to him, of the deadly force Kisho's Bankai was about to unleash, he kept his attention on the arrancar's movements with a calculating gaze, letting the 11th division member unleash his fury. Even if Takamura wasn't able to deal heavy damage or a killing blow to Gallieno, he managed to continue to redirect his focus onto him, which was good enough to buy Michiya some time for what he had planned next to hopefully put an end to this confrontation. Once the enemy put some distance between them all, everything seemed to change as Gallieno's body began to morph and transfigure, causing every fiber in Michiya's body to go on extreme alert. Without second thought, he was not one to gamble, injecting himself in the palm with the vial he held closely before the transformation was fully completed. Unfortunately still even with this preparation, he couldn't fathom what this abomination had set loose upon them. In the blink of an eye, he delivered a devastating attack on Takamura, but there was no time for him to contemplate the fate of their comrade.

Just like that, the abomination clapped, sending out a force of pure destruction in Michiya's wake, and if it wasn't for the diluted superhuman drug, it would be over for him too. With his reaction speed getting enhanced, even though it gave him the ability to respond to what was to come, his body barely managed to keep up with his thoughts as he went crashing into a nearby structure. His entire right arm up to his forearm was torn asunder with some internal damage, and his right leg was shattered with heavy damage. The pain that coursed through his body was unimaginable, and with the drug coursing through him, so did the clarity of his mind sharpen along sensing the fading reiatsu of his father he once was able to strongly detect. His blood pooled onto the structure he lay on, still shakingly gripping the other sword, knowing he couldn't remain idle for long.

"Father...you must survive for there is a debt you must...repay." He paused for a brief second, muttering to himself with Shidarizakura Hakuoki speaking in unison, "...Only in death can the Tree of the Underworld thrive."

The puddled blood that continued to spill forth, sizzling on the heated stone, soon began to sprout floral life from it due to the dark nature of his Bankai, allowing him to grow wood from his flesh and blood. Blossoming as a flower from the blood, the hilt of Tentoki rose, and around it, small, thin tree branches began to weave through his body painfully, like multiple needles rapidly restructuring his muscles, followed by a small maniacal cackle. Reaching into the left side of his haori with the majority of his vials destroyed, he reached to grab his only remaining injector of Hojiku-Zai. Stabbing himself with it, his destroyed right arm began to regrow at the same time, the wood interweaved with it, creating a reinforced arm of wood and flesh. What would have easily become a cruel joke on them, as not only did Antonio release his full power, but the cocoon in Central finally hatched to unleash another monstrosity upon Soul Society, along with the intense amount of energy they released forth, instead turned into a blessing in disguise. All that energy getting released became nourishment for his Zanpakuto, strengthening his wooden arms and legs to become strong enough to endure the force of Gallieno, although for how long, Michiya didn't wish to find out.

"Kaizo Bankai: Drasena no Hojin - Nidhogg (Modified Bankai: Draconic Formation - Parasetic Fiend)..." where the last things muttered after the roots finished strengthening his body, and now both swords in hand.

If this were enough, even his brilliant mind didn't know, but the only thing he was certain of they had to end this soon. What stood up didn't look like the same person now appearing as some strange fusion between Michiya and his wooden demons, except that the once normal wood had midnight black coloration to it. The one who orchestrated the cutoff of their Soul King parts came to the shocking conclusion just a few seconds before Gallieno only confirmed what he worried about. They were out of time. Despite the news of this setback, no matter which of them remained fighting, even if he was the last one standing, he wouldn't give up on the plan he had in mind included the outcome if they were not able to put an end to him and banked everything on one final kido, which he gradually channeled his energy into. With the restructuring and reinforcement of his body, and the Superhuman drug originally planned to be his trump card against the Soul King's eyes, now became his final gambit to hope to contend with this newly transformed abomination. In one fell, powerful leap, using barriers as makeshift steps, he charged into the fray, sending out ten wood hands to lace in the toxic sap lashing out at him from his back. Their intention wasn't to grapple or strike, but interweave around him in multiple angles before immediately blooming glowing fruits along the wood as they detonated, trying to catch him in the explosion at the same time, engulfing Gallieno in toxic tree sap.​