[click every time ^]
The battle unfolds between the Shinigami-turned-Hollow and the Monster-turned-Commander, Shobatsu. As her torches the inside of barrier with flames of purple, he cleared the view for all to see. Some less capable than he, he quickly focuses on the battle at hand. His sense of awareness is beyond the scope of most, following every action the commander takes.
Sharpened elongated beams of light condense and soar in his direction. Their speed that of light itself, Maho is able to track their path, the flow of spirit energy that is both formed and left behind as they make their assault.
Those aint slow...
they tear through the open air, bouncing off of it as though it itself was a reflecting surface. Though he can keep track, just beyond what is capable it becomes clear that acting against it was another story.
If it was me, I'd create some sort of defensive wall.
How then does the blind man act? With blade in hand prior to his emergence, Maho took note of this detail, a wise one. He had immediate access to his blade, any precious moment was necessary for a situation like this. Maho had taken advantage of a lapse in detail during his test with the captain that stood to his right. Higen. Any experience in the art of battle would have noticed this right away.
And then there is a clash, minuscule and easy to miss. There isn't much to see, a flicker, near indistinguishable to most any other than the dragon. With his careful eye, the arc is caught, reacting against the light, a flash escapes, like a grenade. Each bean is angled up and out into the brightness of the sky above them, Gone.
A single beam cuts through the center, down within the action. Focused, it pierces. Stripping the black hands off the second of the trio.
"Tch...Good move Old man...
But what did he do? Was he just that fast? Or was there some other power behind his ability. That couldn't have been the product of his raw physical movement. These eyes at least told him that. But it was that alone.
What follows is a massive wall of flame, towering and deep purple. There is something more to these flames. Would just heat alone be able to stop the cero of multiple Hollows at once?
No... this must have been his Zanpakuto at play. The defensive field had been established, just as Maho theorized he would have done. Then the largest of the Cero, growing longer and larger, like a rivaling orb of flame illuminates the very air inside the barrier.
What would be the olds man move from here?
With a Cero massive in scale, capable of destroying all that they all protected. The Head captain makes his move once more. This time, he brings down
Judgement upon everything that he had seen. His spiritual pressure spikes, slamming down upon the Soul society itself. Everything begins to crumble, the very air shutters at its might. Most were pressed into the ground, unable to stand or withstand the force. For a time, Maho resisted. His eyes never leaving the Captain's sight. There would be a few times to see Shobatsu in action, to learn anything. What secret lay beneath those cold empty eyes. What power. Only those most focused on the evolving scene would dare try. Even as his peers drop to one knee, Maho resists, as the hollows are pressed and broken into the ground, the bone being stripped from their bodies. Blood escapes their wounds as they cry out and wriggle in pain. Yet Maho resists. His legs beginning to give way. He grits his teeth and endures against judgment itself. His extraordinary senses are drawn to the Captain's form. He is ultra-sensitive to everything bearing down on his body. His muscles quietly ache, though he does not show it visibly. The hair on the ends of his neck rises out of excitement, or anticipation, rather than fear. Spiritual pressure exudes from his vessel in response, almost automatically, erupting in a steady wall of preservation, the earth around him craters, splintering under the pressure exuded by the head captain, as well as by Maho himself.
And this...his knee's wobble, buckle at the joints, Like Omoni before, he attempts to keep his knee off the floor, not out of pride, but instinct. His bones feel like hot iron, his flesh felt as though it would melt off like tenderly cooked meat. Though kneeling, he resists the urge to full subjugation from the captain's excessive use of strength, however necessary. Just as his head is pounding and his body is near the point of giving out. He remarks to himself, his eyes wincing in pain.
So this, is Captain Murasaki...
What power...
It is then
That the barrier shatters like glass, dissipating into shards of light. The priestesses drop to the floor, unable to withstand the brunt of their Commanders force. As quickly as it began, it ended.
Maho realigns himself, the image of the white Haori fluttering in the wind. Though winded, tired he resisted being forced to his knees at least entirely. However, his heart beats like a drum, his ears find the need to re-adjust to their surroundings. He takes several deep breaths. Then relaxes. That ordeal, though trying is now behind him, yet his hands sustain a slight tremble.
"Captain Kagayaki.”
He calls to the old man beside him. The large pot soars into his grasp, with a loud impact causing the Knight to slide back a number of feet. Visibly stunned, he eyes the artifact, its strange design is one thing, but the foulness of energy emanating from it. Suddenly Maho sees the impression of a dark and endless ooze of malice creeping from it. Faint enough to be missed by the naked eye. It unsettles him as Higen holds such an object in his hand. He hides his expression, as the Commander continues.
“Take the artifact to Head Lieutenant Oki, in the First Division Barracks.”
They're...keeping that He accidentally allows the word that to slip, his word trailing off in a whisper. He quickly shuts himself up once more. He stands up straight, placing a new cigar in his mouth.
Last one... Then ignites it. If he had ever needed a smoke now, its was now.
Then, the Captain turns his words to Maho. Not unexpected. But still surprising. How long had it been?
“Captain Kojima.”
He does not verbally answer, though he places his eyes directly on him. Maho can see the faint power emanating from his soul beneath his sealed clothing. Even from here, He remains locked in place. At attention.
“You are in command of this situation.”
"“The rest of you, go home.”
And with those words, the Captain of the 9th division is made to take command of the situation. Many of the loose members of the soul society, the nameless seats and unseats, take their leave. One by one returning to their own division, their own duties and their own lives. Maho rests at his feet, running over the events in his mind. All that had transpired, Every mode that had been made, and even with all of that he was no closer to any solid conclusion. What lay a path to the truth of that mans strength. He would have to discover it.
He makes a comment to Captain Higen, one he figured would probably go ignored, as he was given a direct order from his old teacher.
"Don't Drop that old man..."
He turns away, inhaling a plume. He holds it in for a moment, allowing the elder time to leave him, then is met with a new voice.
"4th Seat Shusuke Kiyoshi of Division 6, Captains Kojima and Kagayaki, I apologize for my Division's lack of action in the past hour. It seems only I was able to confront the threat head-on. If there's anything you require of me, all you need to do is ask. I would like to also get to the bottom of what's going on."
"...Kiyoshi. I see. The one who faced The Fairy. Well, Shusuke; This is yo' house. You free to investigate as you please. Give me a rundown of the area and any information you have about what went down.. Every name and face that was involved. I want your full assessment reported to me. I'll do a little investigation of my own.
By now Jiro had blitz over to his position, only to crash comically on his face. The noise was loud enough that it Caught Maho's Attention. He sighs.
"FFffff."
The black fist beneath his shirt hoists the small pink-haired fool up like a kitten, floating him over to His captain. Now raised 5 feet off the ground, Maho takes a hit of herb and exhales it immediately.
"Ya did hood Today Jiro San. You just about made up for the finger you were about to lose. Just about..."
He scoffs, keeping him floating above the ground. Their work more than cut out for them. There was much to do before they could rest. Stepping over toward the rubble, Maho crouches down and shuffles through some of the broken stone. What would he discover here? Was there anything else to know at all? One could only wonder. The truth had already been brought to the light. And with it, came the judgment, swift and unchallenged. Somehow, Maho had made it through this with his pride. Though he was unnerved at the subjectivity of such power. What kind of man was he? There was always one more question than there ever was an answer. His time in the 9th division certainly communicated that to him.
