Whistling through the air, the first chunk of coal makes contact with its target. The Quincy known as Silas thinks highly of himself, retaliating against such a seemingly simple attack with a similarly simple defense. However, nothing about this night could by any definition of the term be deemed simple.
The black chunk, no larger than a small stone, collided against the surface of Silas’ Gritz. The noble Quincy, believing himself to be so intelligent, would undoubtedly expect the sound of a
’THUNK!’, instead, what he would hear is….
’RIIIP!’
Followed by the sound of something wet, and the smell of something burning.
The coal did not, as Silas Expected, deflect harmlessly off of his inflatable shield. Instead, the Quincy artifact, being composed of Reishi, caught flame the moment the black surface of the coal came into contact with it. This burnt a hole near instantly, coupled with the force in which the chunk was thrown, which allowed it to penetrate cleanly through the Gritz. Then, cleanly through Silas.
’THUNK!’
The sound of the coal crashing into the ground behind him is all Silas can hear at first. Having no backup for defense, but choosing instead to adjust his glasses, meant that the Quincy was not primed for the moment his Shield would fail. A sharp pain erupts from his lower abdomen, a hole, exactly the size of the coal, having been punctured cleanly through him, not unlike a bullet hole.
This is the least of the Quincy’s problems. As before him, his Gritz goes up in flames, as though it were coated in a gasoline, the fire spreads without hindrance, entrapping Silas in a cocoon of fire. His world being turned into a flaming hell around him, was not the true danger. Silas, being as observant and analytical as he is, is sure to realize in that split second of adrenaline-fueled observation, that the object which had caught the Gritz on fire in the first place, had just passed through him as well.
Blood loss wasn’t going to be a problem. As immediately, the wound is cauterized. This is due to the fact that it is now currently on fire. The bullet hole, like a stove top, ignites, the flesh having come into contact with the same surface of the Coal. Like the child in the building before, whose corpse now existed only as ash, Silas’ flesh would soon be completely engulfed in flame. The Quincy noble had effectively created his own oven to cremate himself. Klaus’ coal only serving to ignite the spark.
The second Coal moves along its course simultaneous to the first. This one moves towards a different target, one known as Mikoto, the Masked Avenger. Unwittingly, Mikoto spares himself the same fate as Silas, though the coal continues along the same path as its counterpart, and just as unhindered.
’THUNK!’
The coal passes cleanly through the air, as though Mikoto were never there. The Masked Avenger’s speed being such that the black chunk merely phases through him. It crashes into the ground behind him, firmly burying itself into the concrete of the building’s rooftop.
Now, Mikoto makes his mistake. Thinking himself safe, he chose to observe and track Nicolas Klaus, rather then inspect his own surroundings. When Klaus comes into contact with the Shinigami, Mikoto loses track of himself. His mind goes blank, his vision appears to become tunneled. He does not move from where he is, ignorant to the world around him.
The coal, firmly planted into the ground ignites the concrete around it. An updraft of heat and flame immediately spreads across the surface of the rooftop, sure to engulf Mikoto as well, as distracted as he is. Luckily for Mikoto, if he is able to resist these flames, they bear no more effect on him than normal fire, unable to spread to his body. Unlike the Quincy, Gritz, and boy from before, who touched these coals, Mikoto himself would not be converted into a source for the flame.
Now, two rooftops burn like chimney tops, one engulfing a Fullbringer, the other a Quincy. They are beacons of Klaus’ own. Symbolically surpassing the displays of Reiatsu before. Their heat and light a sharp contrast against the deathly cold and dark of the night.
’CRAAAACK!’
The weight of the Klaus bore down upon the Shinigami known as Shizuka. Shizuka, so often fighting against his Captain, a monster of strength in his own right, had thought himself immune to the might of the creature known as the Saint.
They crashed through multiple rooftops, concrete and debri colliding against Shizuka’s helpless back. Yet the Shinigami remained firm, his own endurance disproportionate to his physical appearance. Now however, the duo reached the end of the plummet. Shizuka’s body was stuck barring the full weight and velocity of Klaus’ crash. Using his guard to brace himself, Shizuka seeks to negate some of the damage and suspend Klaus above him. This results in the sheath of Shizuka’s Zanpakuto cracking and shattering, rather than his bones.
“I’ve been waiting all year for this night. Come morning I will make toys of your Shinigami bones.”
"Aww you were waiting for me all this time? I feel so special now."
From within the cracks of his sheathe, a bright yellow light begins to emit. Klaus, in a moment of curiosity, looks down upon the light.
“Tsuzuri Raiden."
Immediately, the sheathe becomes engulfed in electricity. These beams of yellow chirp and crackle, engulfing Klaus’ massive frame. His body shakes and convulses, the second time he has been electrocuted this night. Helpless once more, he cannot think, let alone brace himself, as Shizuka unexpectedly delivers a powerful round-house kick.
Klaus paralyzed body goes soaring through the air, crashing into the adjacent building with such might that the foundations shake. The collision causes the multi-story building to collapse, violently burying the Saint in Debris and rubble twenty feet high.
After a tense moment, the dust settles. There seems to be nothing, no movement, no signs of life whatsoever. Even those able to sense life force, spiritual energy, would find none within the debris. The only thing that remains, is the leather sack, partially buried beneath a pillar of concrete. The faces of souls within it still claw to come out, a peculiar symbol engraved into its side.
BOOOOOM
Chunks of debris and rubble go flying through the air with enough force to completely crush the surrounding buildings and cars. A torrent of wind radiates from beneath the debris, as a mighty roar emanates from the belly of the beast.
Enraged, he flexes, causing the air around him to violently tear, his rage nearly palpable.
“You’ve been a naughty little brat. I will stain these streets red with your blood, and ride victorious on a sleigh made of your bones!”
The leather sack opens, and a whirlwind of ice and snow erupt from it. This time however, out in the open, the contents of the bag can be seen more clearly. Shizuka, looking on, will be able to see within this flurry of white, not just ice and snow, but the faces of souls, the ghosts of spiritual energies robbed from Santa’s Victims. They scream in agony, in their Plus like state, their voices becoming the literal howling of the ice storm. Their horrifying cries are deafening, drowning out all sound till the only thing heard can be the howling.
The torrent of energy seems to move directly to Nicolas, as though he were the one siphoning energy from the bag, and not the other way around. The ice-like wraiths of his victims swirl around his body, forming into the shape of a Reiatsu cloud. Suddenly, those sensitive enough can finally feel the spiritual pressure of this creature, whereas before he may as well have been lifeless. The pressure drowning, causing all those within a mile radius to feel as though they are trapped underwater beneath an ocean of ice. The weight of an iceberg pressing down about them, any subjected to Klaus's display can feel their limbs growing numb, their muscles becoming unresponsive, their heartbeat steadily slowing. They feel the effects of hypothermia.
Yet Klaus is not done, not one to merely flex and boast. No, it seems this display is simply the effect of the Saint charging himself up, boosting himself with the spiritual energy of others. Now, he seeks to release it. It is the season of giving, and Klaus is a generous man.
Bringing his hands together, Klaus begins to condense this massive energy. He compressess the spiritual power, folding it over itself a thousand times. His titanic like muscles flexing, forcing the energy to obey his will through sheer strength. The very air begins to sizzle and pop with an electricity not unlike Shizuka or Silas’. A christmas star, spinning its strands of silver. Then, he releases it all, launching it forward with an intense speed, it would quickly arrive directly at Shizuka’s location, moving faster than one might expect, even Shunpo may not be enough to dodge.
Upon contact, the ball erupts into an explosion of pure phosphorus. The concussive impact alone enough to render the space around Shizuka into a crater. The effect is not unlike that of an Arrancar’s Cero, an incinerating burst of pure spiritual power. Should Shizuka fail to evade this blinding blast, he would fare no better than a snowman on a hot summer day. Unlike the Fullbringer and Quincy who would merely burn, the Shinigami would instead be incinerated, reduced to flakes of ash, to be mixed among the snow.
Santa cannot help but release a jolly and victorious chuckle, believing the puny soul reaper to now be a ghost of christmas past. He outstretches his hand, and the massive leather sack goes soaring through the air, directly into his open palm. He grips it tightly, then testing it, beats it across the ground on either side of him. The impact of the sack crushing through the asphalt and creating miniature craters each. Until finally, he slings the object over his shoulder, and takes in his surroundings.
Fredricks eyes widen, watching as the red of Avillio’s blood stains the tundra white. Before him, the Reindeer had appeared, its hardened chitin-like fingers moving to pierce through Avillio’s body. Luckily, this reaction from the Quincy is what would save Avillio’s life, for the time being. Avillio, seeing the surprised look on Fredricks face, allowed his instincts to kick in, narrowly turning just enough so that the hooved-hand strikes the front of his shoulder, rather than his back. Avillio’s shield clicks into place only last minute, the force of the blow sending him flying back towards Fred’s location. The fullbringer can see the trail of his own blood along the path of his flight.
Concurrently, Fredrick struggles with his own antlered demon. Upon Seeing Avillio’s ambush, Fredrick was too distracted to fend for himself. Immediately, he feels a sharp pain coming from the back of his shoulder. The Reindeer’s strike punctures his shoulder blade, and nearly reaches his heart, before the Quincy activates his Blut Vein. His now armored flesh catches the Reindeer’s hand, causing it to pull it back out from the Quincy’s body. Wasting no time, ignoring the searing pain, Fredrick turns to grab the retreating arm.
Yet, Frederick’s arm moves harmlessly through the image of the Reindeer. It is as though the creature were a ghost, completely incorperal. How could this be? It had clearly just attacked the Quincy, Fredrick can still feel the pain in his shoulder after all. Without sound, without movement or any indication, the Reindeer simply fades out of sight, out of existence. Its soulless eyes staring at Fredrick until they too completely fade.
It is at this moment that Avillio springs into action. Firing shot after shot in a whirl of movement, each step coordinated with each pull of the trigger. It is the same play the Fulllbringer had used to deadly effect on Klaus. However, Fredrick, with time enough to observe now, might notice that Avillio’s attacks too, are now ineffective. They too pass through the reindeer as though it were air. Even Avillio’s blood, which splatters about the frozen tundra, does not seem to stain the creatures fur.
Another party, which the two had not noticed until this point, had found himself a victim of tonight's events. Tsukune the Fullbringer, ignorant of his surroundings, the first thing the fry cook would notice is Fredrick being stabbed, the second thing he would notice is the furry arm now sticking clearly out of his own abdomen. Tsukune, having not activated any sort of physical defense like the other two, caught the brunt of the Reindeer’s attack. He is lifted into the air, skewered upon the Reindeer’s arm, until the creature headbuts the back of the Fullbringer’s skull with his own mighty antlers, sending the small Tsukune flying face first into the ice.
The cook retaliates immediately, not letting his injuries hinder his battle spirit. In a single motion, he turns, violently swinging his frying pan with deadly force. However, just like the others, the pan would pass harmlessly through the Reindeer. As Tsukune unleashes his fearsome flaming power, the Reindeer fades away into nothingness, just as the others do. Perhaps, Tsukune, who had remained ignorant until now, could continue seeing through the pain to notice one key element. That his flames, roaring and growing, seemed to bare no effect on the environment at all. The snow upon the ground remained as white and pristine as ever, not a droplet of water or steam rising from it in response to the flames. Further the snow falling and blowing in the chilling winds passed harmlessly through the flames, as harmless as Tsukune’s own attack on the Reindeer.
What is happening? Just where are they? Just what is this?
Now only the first Reindeer remains, standingly motionless within the center of the battlefield, his nose glowing an eerie red, like a lighthouse of death shining through the frozen fog of the tundra. It is now that their adrenaline wears off and acute pain strikes those injured by the Reindeer. The heat of Avillio and Fredrick’s blood suddenly disappears, replaced with a sharp and crippling cold. Their bodies cramp up, their muscles lock, as the flesh surrounding their wounds turns a deep purple, then black. Inspecting the wounds themselves the two would find their flesh completely frozen from within. The effects of frostbite begin to spread from their wounds like a plague. Their bones chilling, their muscles locking, their minds clouded with pain.
All, except for Tsukune. Whose blood flows grievously from his wound, but does not freeze. The heat of his fullbring, though ineffective to anything around him, seems to affect himself just fine. His body’s insane increase in temperature negates the freezing of his flesh. However, this will not hold for long. The wound continues to grow colder and colder, forcing Tsukune to make his body hotter and hotter to keep up. This means that the longer Tsukune resists, the weaker his flames will be, until he finally exhausts himself and gives in. All this, while trying to prevent himself from bleeding out and dying here in the snow.
This isn’t the end of Tsukune’s problems either. With the other two incapacitated by their freezing wounds, Tsukune becomes the only threat, singled out by the beast.
It kicks its powerful hooves against the frozen earth, launching itself near immediately behind Tsukune. Towering over the small man, the Beast rears its head back, then slams it down in another headbutt, this time with such crushing force that it sure to pulverize the Fullbringer. With its antlers skewering the broken body of the Cook, the Reindeer would then grind its head into the snow, shredding the Fullbringer’s body apart, and ripping it from his antlers.
The others, sure to muster whatever strength they can to help him, will only find that the more energy the exert, the faster the frostbite spreads. The brittle nature of their frozen bodies would cause their flesh to shatter like ice upon the slightest impact. Even should they manage to resist this pain, and survive, their time on this earth is numbered, and they would have to use it carefully.
