"Whoa whoa, hey now. Lets all calm down a little. I'm unarmed here."
Hachi was unable to tell if the man was deviously clever, or a coward; both of which were cause for concern given the current circumstances. The statement itself was never necessarily true for any Shinigami worth their mettle–empty hands and an inability to cause harm don’t necessarily correlate. Even still, the purple-haired man didn’t seem to give off any hostile vibrations, and nor did his equally insignificant shaggy-maned friend.
"Psst, I'm with that guy."
Hachi glances over; what exactly that was supposed to mean, or what weight that was supposed to hold with this crowd specifically. Again, coward or clever? He immediately had gone into self-preservation mode, seemingly utilizing any and everything in the immediate vicinity to draw the attention off of himself, although his personality seemed rather loud and vibrant. It was safe to say that even now that it was confirmed that they weren’t necessarily on opposite sides, this wouldn’t be the best individual to assume would have your back had things quickly gone left. The Wind-Walker’s shoulders slump, his demeanor following suit as the veiled shadow cast over his face fades to nothing. Before him, the 10th Division shinigami stands very "don’t shoot” -like. A chuckle brushes through his teeth and over his lips, finding the twitchy man somewhat entertaining. With his focus so heavily shifted to at least one of the new arrivals, Hachi fails to even notice what takes place a short distance away, back toward the gate. It is not until a small and tired voice is thrown out that his attention is brought to it.
"Hey, guys."
"Oh, now you feel like talking."
“Secure the Kakaku Taihō. Stop Hashimoto.”
It appeared the two of them were not in fact a duo, and perhaps just somehow stumbled upon each other in search of the same answers. The 10th Division Shinigami’s reaction makes it seem as if the young boy wasn’t one of many words, so maybe these ones were important. It appeared he wasn’t the only one that was aware of Hashimoto’s treachery, but just how far did it stretch–Four individuals from fairly different walks of life as far as the Soul Society was concerned, all seemed to want their own form of justice for what was happening.
"I guess I'll leave you two to do what you came here to do. Me and Captain Hashimoto though have to have a little chat about something, so if you see him-"
CLAP
BOOM
The remaining of the String-Wielder’s words is drowned out by the sound of thunder. Roaring loudly, the earth shakes and rattles against the howl of the Kido Cannons that manifested as the formerly erected barrier was taken away–Which Hachi had hardly noticed. Along the walls of the compound an assortment of guards man large weapons of destruction, composed of the same fine construction that adorned the many cannon-like objects created by the infamous Shiba. The power behind each of the ten blasts is felt even before they are fired outward, aiming to instantly disintegrate the quartet banging at their gates. Where they stood could be equated to staring down the barrel of a gun, the hostile energy traveling toward them with indiscriminate malice. Time seems to take a lapse, the moment becoming compartmentalized into a single breath or heartbeat. And for this second, it is as if everything had stood still. No, not quite, just the large blasts headed toward them. Followed by the glint of a blade’s reflection, the Kido Blasts were now suspended far above them, while Otokogi now stands with his blade drawn and pointed heaven-bound. The others may have found this confusing and even marveled at the spectacle of the Gentle Breeze’s Shikai, had they even been able to identify that as what was happening–but Hachi was well aware of what was bound to occur. The purple-haired man would feel a slight brush up against his shoulder, the slightly larger Hachi bumping by him in a slow trot toward the chaos. He walks without urgency, his Zanpakuto still slung over his shoulder in a position that was rather normal for him. It was, however, out of its sheathe; the large blasts drawn to the sky act as several suns, their light cascading downward to create a spotlight of a reflection off of its metal. As he looms closer, so too does the Cannons’ demise, along with any that would decide to remain close to them after seeing what would transpire next.
The skyward blade of Otokogi-Sensei is thrown downward and so too is the oppressive force of gravity onto the blasts that hovered above. Their own barrage turned against them rains down upon the manor walls with vehemence, vaporizing those who were forced to face the brunt of its power, while reducing the Kido Cannons themselves to ash.
Tap Tap
Beneath the chaotic sounds of the Lieutenant’s siege and the screams of his victims, wooden geta drag against the cobblestone forefront of the now disheveled manor.
Tap Tap
Hachi slowly approaches, cracks in the walls spread like veins, coursing through the reishi-composed stone as they expose every weakness, causing the wall to explode into itself, and the gate along with it.
Tap Tap
Debris comes crumbling and raining down in the massive area. Like a cataclysm, hell falls from the sky. Many of the exterior guards that survived find themselves pinned beneath the debris, as any that would fall on the four would find failure, immediately dispelled by Oto’.
Tap
He stops now, standing at the foothold of where the gate once was, the entire inner courtyard in its destroyed state now exposed to the Violent Gale. A storm of dust and dirt is scurried up, massive clouds looming over the area and limiting all from view. A short distance ahead, the moans and groans of the enemy overlap each other as they try to recover from the force of their own attack. Their defenses, depleted. Their morale, destroyed, their chance at survival? Slim to none. Could it get any worse?
”Hachi! I’m going to move on ahead, you take care of this lot. I leave their fate to your judgment alone.”
Now it couldn’t.
Otokogi presses forward further into the compound, using the natural smokescreen conjured by the debris and dust combined with concealing his spiritual presence. He had become a specter, and a large number of remaining guards were none the wiser. The Old Man was more than capable of handling what remained inside the manor, while Hachi cleaned up the mess he left outside.
“About. Damn. Time.”
Through the thickened smoke and dust, Hachi’s demonic silhouette creeps through, as a violent wind is conjured that near-instantly dispels the veil of soot. The Wind-Walker, blade drawn, continues his trot forward, a sadistic grin growing at the base of his lips, stretching from one ear to another.
Tap Tap
His geta clack against the broken rock and stone, the clattering of metal heard loudly as the battalion of guards that remained grabbed their weapons in anticipation.
Tap Tap
Hachi’s silence is eerie, and it appeared he was allowing his footsteps to be this loud, acting as a countdown for the fury he had yet to unleash against the men before him. Beneath it, the gritting of teeth in fear wanes over the courtyard, as not a single individual had yet chosen to make a move toward him.
Tap Tap
His mind had discarded the details of the present. He is too focused, even to notice the vanishing spiritual pressures of quite a few of the Captains fighting in the distance, the Head Captain included. He is too consumed with bloodlust to realize that the young boy resembling a mangy mutt had vanished entirely, without a sound or trace. His introspection became a slideshow of travesty. Every horrible act a noble had been responsible for against him or any he held dear acted as an anvil of which the iron of his blade was soon to be sharpened.
Tap
He stops, about fifteen feet from the nearest Shiba guard who had two small tanto blades crossed in an ‘X’ in front of him, seemingly prepared to strike. The same man speaks; Perhaps in desperation, perhaps he genuinely wanted resolution. Deep down, perhaps the man knew it really just didn’t matter.
The man just barely gets out the last word of his sentence, as he slowly and ominously looks downward toward his torso, crimson ichor leaking from the corners of his mouth. His pupils dilate and fade to a dark as his blurred visage takes in a large arm, that was lodged directly into the base of his chest. Blood pooled from the area of entry, as his trachea finds itself dangling out of an exposed and utterly grotesque hole carved out by the bareness of Hachi’s free hand. The man’s entrails and organs are squeezed like stress balls before exploding within him. The guard falls to his knees and inevitably, flat-faced into his grave as Hachi dislodges his hand from the corpse, laughing a bit at the man’s fragility, as his arm and neck area are stained in splatters of scarlet.
“Shiba Scum.”
An uproar of clamoring overtakes the courtyard, as the remaining guards experience a plethora of emotions in a single swell. Fear, pain, disbelief, anger. It all bombards them without warning, and so too do they spring onto Hachi, aiming to take the man down. Failure. Three individuals find their legs disconnected from their waists, and their arms distant from their shoulders as blood splatters like a hose and rains down upon the battlefield. Another two approaches from his left, one of which is swift and concise with his strike. It is almost enough to catch the third seated officer off-guard, who enacts a parry without flaw. The enemy’s blade glides along the length of Yuushi which Hachi inevitably guides toward the base of another guard’s throat. Gargling is heard as the enemy’s blade is painted red, but not by Hachi’s own flesh.
Hachi bleeds from view,
before reappearing a few feet away, as well as to the left and right of himself, another Hachi smiles down on his enemies from above, as a dozen more guards find themselves concurrently beheaded, their eyes forced to roll into the back of decapitated skulls. The remaining Hachis seem to evaporate into the wind, as only the airborne one remains. His velocity increases as he travels downward, his Zanpakuto firmly in two hands now to amplify its cutting strength. Several guards remain, scattered about in different spots yet still in the general vicinity of the courtyard. Like a meteor, he comes down with cataclysmic force.
The blade does not meet an enemy, yet strikes directly into the ground. A vacuum of silence is created, all things being pulled inward before a massive pillar of both wind and Reiatsu erupts from the point of impact. The ground is cratered in a massive radius, as the earth is upturned. Guards find themselves lifted into the air from the burst of wind, or pulled down into the crater by the oppressive force. Others appear to be impaled by large sections of rock or stone that were separated from the foundation beneath them. All of which seemed to meet the same inevitable fate. They had been weighed, measured, and found wanting of all things. A cloud of dust consumes the area once more, shielding the massacre from the view of any bystanders or onlookers.
Had Itaku of the Strings approached the now silent courtyard and if the dust had begun to clear, he’d see Hachi sitting atop a dismantled body at the bottom of the crater, a bored expression over his face as he lightly and playfully poked the corpse with his Zanpakuto over and over again. the squelching of the dead flesh against the metal blade tries to conceal the hushed whisper that rolled off of his tongue.
“For every scar I’ll kill Ten of you.. No.. A Hundred.. No .. A Thousand.. No. No No. No. More. Yes. Yes. More. They’ll pay. They’ll all pay.”
