[BSD-RP] The Valley of Screams

[Shinigami]

It has not been more than a minute, and yet this fight of epic proportions has already left its scar on the Valley of Screams. Whether it be the deep dark pit tinged with the rot of soot, or the infesting threads that ran beneath the surface like veins, this was a war of attrition; two souls clashing brilliantly in this empty world. Itsuki stroked his chin, his own swift calculating ability being faster than the blades which swam feverishly through the air. While it was definitely an impressive bout of speed these weapons displayed, Itsuki’s goblin-like face remained stalwart and somber. Every moment that passed, every millisecond it went untreated, the disease of Itobeni’s stringy essence spread further and further… becoming more and more intricate. Once Maho’s blade had reached their half way mark… Itobeni had spun & burrowed into a radius of three hundred yards in all directions… Entire mountains… Formations… and even Maho’s own creation; his soot soaked crater rimmed with rubble was infected, a deep well of red string seemingly stretching endlessly into the darkness of the hole’s maw.
It was Itobeni beneath his feet… the presence that stretched far and wide that made Itsuki unafraid of the fast-approaching blades, as they reached their halfway mark suddenly a solitary puncture rose scarred the ground around what would in moments be the section they would pass over; but soon the daggers would find something fated them not to pass. The blades became doomed to fail because in the same second the hole had appeared, a dozen of Itobeni’s nearly invisible threads had erupted into the over-world; they expanded almost instantly… from no thicker than piano wire to suddenly being greater than the trunk of a mighty oak tree. It was like a great red thicket—a forest of rope growing seemingly from nothing almost instantly. The sudden thickening forced the earth asunder! Entire slabs of stone cast to the side like pebbles from the sheer force… and the blades that Kojima had mistakenly invested hope in became trapped in the center of these ropes that stretched just shy of twenty yards! It ensnared the blades in the very fibers whose density churned between volumes of one ton to three tons; the shock waves produced within this visibly convulsing threaded womb enough to break down many a steel to nothing.
As Kojima would soon find, these threads were just as tenacious as many Hollows, but beyond that they were still fully under the beck & call of their handler. Once the grandiose thicket of rope that erupted with volcanic might could no longer feel Kojima’s Zanpaktou it would recede like the tide of a storming sea… However, it would only recede when Itsuki is sure that that the lingering force of Kojima no longer existed within the grasp of the ropes.
“Kakakakaka”
Itsuki laughed… a deep guttural chuckle as both the surface and underground became his domain. One would imagine the force it took to infest so much to be immense; and rightfully it was, but it wasn’t as taxing as one would believe, because of the cocktail of reiatsu control and intelligence Itsuki it came down once more to familiarity and calculation. He was consciously optimizing the threads, his own process almost mechanical as he regulated the energy output down to the smallest flex of fibers in the thinnest strands. In reality, if Kojima gazed into the sea of threads beneath the surface it would seem like the bare minimum of energy was coursing through the threads, an occasional heartbeat throbbing through the network. It was because of this mastery of control that he could thicken his threads by just enough to splinter them, which is exactly what happened as Kojima danced in the Heavenly blue sky stained with streaks of stray red fiber.
As Kojima slipped and swayed, speeding up himself and displaying nimble footwork, it would not be enough to outwit Itobeni. In the moments he would move only a foot away, Kojima could sense the slightest engorgement in the threads. Well before even half a second could pass these swollen threads made their move, launched forward with a speed akin to the knives he had failed to attack with. Itobeni truly was a ravenous beast. Even if Kojima went to move from these threads, which were no further than a foot from him… they would follow.
“Urgh...”
Itsuki’s eyes twitched again. Even though he was regaining the vision that Kojima had temporarily burned away with his earlier trick, the Shinigami could feel that he had some serious damage done to them. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip… He disliked that he couldn’t see well but took creature comfort because with this network that swam beneath them, Itsuki could ‘see’ with his mind. He had used the vast and monstrous nervous system of thread beneath the face of the Valley of Screams much like a sensor; activating only when something with the slightest reiatsu moved past it. Itsuki did this to both preserve his energy and focus on feeling out the battle in the sky. He could feel Kojima, his threads almost acting in the same capacity as a bat’s cry. It was because of this finely tuned sensory ability that Itsuki took full advantage of the weaving and bobbing of Kojima.
Each step Kojima took… Itsuki could feel, it wasn’t as if the Dragon had been shuttering his force. He could feel the direction he moved in, and in the same moment he could observe the minute changes in direction as Kojima went to flicker beyond his reach… his threads would splinter and strike where he could observe the energy moving towards… but beyond that… they would connect with each other. Even if Kojima could somehow avoid these fangs-like threads and their starved licks at his body, it would not stop two notable things... the immense shock-wave their ton heavy strikes carried & their desire to connect with each other… they would create a mighty yet thin web that spanned across the skyline, leading from where they first sprung at Kojima to wherever they have chased him to now. The web seeming afloat without foundation would cast confusion on the nature of the web for those without a keen sense like Kojima. Surely he could sense the minuscule pulses of energy that throbbed through the impossibly thin foundational threads that had first charged towards him. As with all the threads produced by Itobeni, these too were subject to both optimization and a rejection to common physics; their weight tens of tons stronger than any other threads and yet left with the least amount of attention by Itsuki.
“C’mon lil Fly, come play wit’ da big bad Spider”
Itsuki barked, his voice saddled with a thick country twang, his nostrils flaring as nigh invisible strands frayed from the handle of Itobeni and whipped around him. It was almost as if Itobeni were a mother bear encircling its young… daring Kojima to just try to touch its beloved cub.

 

[Shinigami]

[click every time ^]

Maho streaks across the sky, flames roaring at his heels. As each strand of rope converges upon him, he is able to maneuver just out of the way. These threads remain reactive to his presence, going where he has gone, not where is he going. Such maneuverability is flawless when observed, allowing him to continue forward toward his target. As his threads splinter mid air and attempt to overtake his position, he increases his necessary distance to outpace them. A master in the art of Shunpo, Maho was no slacker. He could run with the best of them. However, when aided by the use of his Shunko, his velocity quadrupled. Several strands pierce fleeting images of the Dragon as he ascends high, this time, turning ninety degrees, a maneuver which allows him to soar straight upward, in a line. He cracks up the output of fire, forcing these threads to trail him in a straight line. His right arm draws back, his enclosed fingers locking into place.
It was time for a checkmate
Maho maintains an expert level of focus. His hands orchestrate the coming events, his thousands and thousands of blades now cut off by a large portion of rope which is erected to consume and collect the swarm. Itsuki’s threads succeed, cutting off their forward path at half their travel distance. As they linger behind, out of view for a few moments they are believed to be trapped, engulfed by a dome of numerous threading. The titanic force released by these strands uproot several large sections of land. Their move with strength and attempt to destroy the swarm down to nothing. There is a momentary pause, before, from behind this grouping, hundreds of blades begin to flicker beyond their grasp. Maho could teleport his weapon at any time. From any circumstance. And this was no different. Their reemergence allowing them now to move now at a greater speed. Their master had gained some proximity to them, increasing his influence. They flicker chaotically. Large swaths appearing at one section, then dozens from different swarms suddenly shift, appearing in sections all their own, creating new swards that replace the previous. They become difficult to decipher as they cut through that final gap of space. They leave large several yard gaps in between them for spacing. Most of them, their numbers in the thousands are lost behind his assault, but as sections teleport beyond this obstruction, He finds that some blades remain intact, retaining their full foot long length. Most others, now crumbled into smaller pieces, vary in lengths from two to fives inches give or take. Those that become smaller, become that much faster. The others, too slow to be moved, are eventually battered and beaten into metallic dust, spreading into the northward winds at the might of his Zanpakuto. What wonders could happen when two weapons meet. When their abilities clash! Both Itsuki and Maho had discovered that their Zanpakuto could interact against one another. This was valuable information one should hold onto.
Now estimated to be around five or so hundred, these blades begin their warped assault, appearing on numerous sides of Itsuki. Group by group, single blades converge upon him at close range, One flies toward his leg, then the second drops toward his shoulder. This process repeats with any of his limbs being viable targets. Around him, at five or so yards, most of his blades simply begin to spin in a clockwise motion. Varying blades of different density swirl, oscillating as they orbited his position. As some are inevitably to be destroyed or dodged, they file back into formation, moving into smaller and smaller shards that begin to litter his air space. They move with purpose, fast enough to appear like blurs. It takes all of five seconds For Itsuki to find himself surrounded on all sides. The first second sees a dozen blades appear to his left, the second behind him. Then the third dozen, to his right. They maintain a rough fifteen yards on all sides of him, three particular groupings of blades, coagulate, melding together seamless, forming three black masses each five foot in length. they wobble and ripples in their idle placements, acting as a marker. A Beacon. Appearing to take shape, they prepare for inception.
Maho’s discards thick beads of sweat from his person. His feet are hot. His arm numb with the intensity of his spirit. He begins to feel the effect of such consistent footwork, Keeping these threads away are no easy task. He holds his concentration, orchestrating all that occurred around Itsuki. He takes mental note of the netting in place behind him along the skyline, as well as the invisible threads that seem to take over a ten yard radius around him. They were the hardest to perceive, faint streams of reiatsu only hardly being present. A tower of flame remains behind him, as the threads follow they face being cooked by this torrent. They could fly to the side of it, in order to catch up to him on either side. Now, it seemed he was backed into some sort of corner.
One
two
three
His form begins to bend and shift with each step. He moves from one point to the other in a triangular formation, once at twelve o clock,
second at three
and third at eight.
This allows him some distance in between spacing. His accelerations allow him to create a good bit of distance as he changes elevation. Varying his form it creates a single opening for him to avoid being pierced. Just one last time as their speed now being too much for him to continue to outpace. As their netting replicated, so to did the numbers around him. It would have been difficult to fly straight toward him with such much He separates himself from the trailing threads, five, ten and then fifteen yards his voice calls out with a thunderous roar, a cry for war, his right arm now cocked back, his shoulder flexes, his energy, which had been held for all this time, skyrockets beyond its current capacity. Itsuki is surely aware of his location now. If his vision returns he can see the fleeing Maho. He can see the shift. He can see the tower of fire, the smoke left in its wake. He can see his wires gaining, so close to their target.
“C’mon lil Fly, come play wit’ da big bad Spider”
And for only a second. There is nothing. A silence that feels like an eternity. Itsuki is sure to maneuver his threads, into position. Though he had created an extended distance using shunpo, these specialized ropes are not normal. They move as if the air is a myth. He would have less time to defend himself, in retrospect, his change in direction is both the most logical course of action, and the most detrimental. He had cut his options and narrowed them now, his only offense now the swarm that made it through. Their numbers no longer as great as they once were, he would have had to make due with what remained. His opponent had taken the entire landscape. His opponent though injured riddled all of the land in his influence. But the Dragon’s voice. Strong. echoes, almost as if it were the last words he would ever speak. Confidence strikes Itsuki’s ears. Even from this distance. It reaches him, like a speaker, it resonates in his ears. Touches his spirit.
"ATSUUUUU MODO!!" (Lit Heat Mode)
His body becomes a living inferno, on all sides his shines against the horizon. His spiritual pressure blazing in all directions. Furious, his speed multiplies once more, now under the influence of the full force of his Shunko. A true dragon now, he continues.
"IPPAAAAI KINZOKUUU!!": (Lit. Full Metal)
He calls upon his Zanpakuto. They connect, become in synce. He narrows his concentration, announcing its name in honor.
R-
His final word is incomprehensible. Lost to the throes of battle. The swarm of threads converges upon him. Smoke bellows. behind him, both he and the threads now lost inside. Light, grand and true is soon to reveal all. Itsuki feels Maho's presence all around him. The swarming blades. The distant fire soaring to the heavens. The masses of black on all sides of him, prepared to generate more.
One can only wonder what happens next. One begins to question who’s back is truly against the wall. Maho had indeed held the advantage, in his readiness to strike. But Itsuki’s careful undertaking kept him from being in checkmate. He was resourceful with his Zanpakuto. Patient to a virtue. Resilient. He wanted to be here. He marveled at the experience.
Most did not.
They did not enjoy an honest bout. These were the virtues to have. Like all of us…he had a ways to go. But most could not continue a battle in such a way. With no one at their back to support them. Oh… the weight of battle when it all lied on your soldiers. Alone to lead. To protect. To uphold the Soul Society. It was a heavy one to bare in the name of freedom and justice. In balance. Balance was not an equal process. But they all knew.
It was necessary.

 

[Shinigami]

Itsuki bit his lip excitedly. They bloodied him, his vision twisted and demented in deep burgundy shades. Even with an intense throbbing crackling through his skull with a thunderous force, Itsuki smiled… an eerie ear to ear grin. Itsuki was obviously unafraid.
“Kaaaah”
He let out a mighty sigh, swollen with exhaustion… but also relief. The Dragon was truly a powerful opponent, and his Zanpaktou truly a fantastical creation of untold caliber… but Itsuki was now confident that he could give the Captain a run for their money. Even with his seared vision… even with Kojima escaping the frantic lashings of Itobeni far above… Itsuki was confident that the red string of fate tethered him to victory and likewise Kojima to defeat. Perhaps Itsuki was too confident… as the grinning tactician soon found his expression soured when Maho’s daggers had somehow escaped the hungry maw of their threaded burial. While he wanted to roar and spew fire like a Dragon himself, Itsuki knew now was not the time. Instead of brooding in his own miscalculation, Itsuki did what he did best… he recalculated. The blades which escaped had somehow flickered beyond Itobeni’s faux inescapable prison… but how? Itsuki rationalized quickly that some space-time technique, whether Kido or native to the Zanpaktou, was likely responsible. The Shinigami would not waste time delving any deeper… and ran with that as the working theory; even without having access to his own eyes, Kojima’s Zanpaktou could not escape the now almost all-seeing eye of Itobeni as both the Heavens above and Underworld below had become subjugated by its weaving fury.
Itsuki could have stopped the blades the moment they snuck beyond the first trial… but he as a warrior indulged his own desires and let the assortment of daggers creep closer and closer… did Kojima think Itsuki was unprepared? Did the Dragon think the Investigator known for his multi-layered planning would allow this story to be written the way he sought? Whatever Maho was thinking, Itsuki would soon reveal the cruel reality of the situation. The strings which danced protectively around Itsuki would prove to be a shield unlike any other… suddenly thickening before Maho’s blades could even move more than an inch… Itsuki was no longer visible, in his stead was now a great yet ominous cylinder of thick twisting rope that seemed to leech into the world below and stretch nearly ten feet into the sky where it seemed to fuse into a pointed top. This crimson prison was not meant to capture the starved daggers of Kojima’s Zanpaktou, but to shelter and nurture Itsuki. If given a closer inspection of the ropes, girthy as their siblings who spurred into the field earlier, one could notice a unique… but easily overlooked spiral pattern across the pointed cylinder’s thick length. In reality, these tens of thousands of small swirling indents were an intentional, and honestly integral, design. The moment the daggers had reached where a once seemingly defenseless Itsuki was and attempted their assault, they would find themselves witness to the furious force of Itsuki as two mechanisms began. First the thickened coil released a furious succession of shock waves as it flexed between being lighter than a feather to weighing three tons.
One…
Two…
Three…

Itsuki counted three pulses of pressure within the second… but even had the blades survived the shock waves which released in all but an inward direction, Itsuki wasn’t concerned. Soon Kojima would witness the great wonder & awe that made Itobeni the terrifying weapon it was. It would be so easy to expect the very ground beneath Itsuki to rupture and quake into a sloppy mess of rubble… and yet it remained almost hauntingly still. Itobeni was so deeply ingrained into the very field that it easily endured the weight of its own technique, keeping the land unmoving and reinforced by the tendons of threads that had woven deep into it.
Itsuki could easily feel the smoldering force of Kojima through the tendrils that danced around the Captain even in the smoke—after all these were still seeking him out… his hot and heavy power only giving the threads something easier to hunt. If Kojima looked to the threads that were lapped up by the flames, he could see that they burned… but not for long. The threads much like fate not so easily deterred as Itobeni easily produced wispy strands to replace those in cinders. Kojiima could flee again and again, he could run higher, lower, or in any direction he so desired… but it would not matter, just as it did not matter that he was releasing this tremendous force… now. It was in the throes of combat Kojima sought to bring out the depth of Itsuki… he sought to explore this beast and the symptoms of his strength.
“Do ya’ feel regret?”
Itsuki wondered earnestly. He wasn’t sure if the Captain realized how dire their situation had become… how many before him had genuinely thought themselves to be forcing Itsuki into a corner only to be butchered like lambs by his wolfish tenacity. He could only offer a silent condolence to the Captain as he dispatched the next layer of his onion-esque plan. The Captain had risen higher, becoming a burning avatar much like the sun many a dragon’s envy, and flee as he may the threads had followed him in a pursuit hot as he. In the same moment Kojima’s lost words were uttered two things came into play in the greater web beneath him almost simultaneously… first the foundational threads thickened into a solitary & centered trunk with a thickness that measured at least twenty yards… and second they twisted… rotating… forcing the entire complex web beneath the Dragon to move in the likeness of a turbine as they spun counter-clockwise with a speed comparable to that of a lower tier Mastered Shunpo.
It was the reason heroes shouldn’t wear capes… the reason many a flight are destined to chaos… the sucking force of Itobeni’s web was as terrible as it was immense. While Itsuki could easily maintain this technique for a longer bout… he chose to only use it for four whole seconds, enough time to easily shred the body of Kojima like cheese on a grater. How would Kojima respond to the suddenly spinning webs trying to drink both him and his flames? Could he escape the intense pull? Obviously he could, if he distanced himself a few more hundred yards beyond the web either upward or outward, but could he do that in time? Itsuki waited… curiouser and curiouser how his opponent would react.
As the web above spun, the one beneath was almost entirely without power. This was the consequence for applying such intense & calibrated speeds, Itsuki for four seconds could only use the nervous system of threads to feel the clash in the heavens, but not what was around him below. Though Itsuki himself was unconcerned… the unique spiral striations that ran across the face of his ten ton threaded container were actually tightly wound segments of thread that would immediately release their immense wound pressure with a howling intensity strong enough to cleanly puncture through a boulder… and notify Itsuki to redirect his attention immediately.

 

[Shinigami]

[click every time ^]

Itsuki fashions his threads remotely. He surrounds himself in a ten foot tall barrier of threads that stack, layering upon one another in a thick field. They bind themselves quickly, in response to his half successful attempt at stopping the swarm of blades. He succeeds in part, but realizes that he must turtle himself. He does so with a layered defense. As his prism completes, three waves of pressure escapea, clashing against the first line of blades. Many of them rebound against these waves, stopping in their tracks. Then many disappear, filling the space around them as previously desired, However, as he had covered himself, The shock waves strike against more blades. Some snap in half, others recoil and are met with a teleportation. His dome is encapsulated in a field of blades, some come into contact with this dome attempting to pierce. The masses on either side of him coagulate and come together as intended, they ripple and bend into five foot forms. This defense would not be breached without force. And Maho...would use plenty.
High in the sky, the trail of fire left beneath Maho, torch the incoming threat. They are not withheld much, as more splitter to take their place, moving at more or less the same rate. Smoke and fire bellow, making it difficult to see the details of what transpires inside. He rises, high into the sky, his speed enhanced to its absolute peak.
And for only a second. There is nothing. A silence that feels like an eternity. Itsuki, as theorized, shuffles his threads into position. Though he had created an extended distance using shunpo, these specialized ropes are not normal. They move as if the air is a myth. But the Dragon’s voice. Strong. echoes, almost as if it were the last words he would ever speak. Confidence strikes Itsuki’s ears. Even from this distance. It reaches him, like a speaker, it resonates in his ears. Touches his spirit.
"ATSUUUUU MODO!!" (Lit Heat Mode)
His body becomes a living inferno, on all sides he shines against the horizon. His spiritual pressure blazing in all directions. Furious, his speed multiplies once more, now under the influence of the full force of his Shunko. He is the image of A true Dragon now. A creature of pure myth. He continues.
"IPPAAAAI KINZOKUUU!!": (Lit. Full Metal)
He calls upon his Zanpakuto. They connect, become in sync. He narrows his concentration, announcing its name in honor.
The threads begin a rapid spinning, a rotation that allows them to funnel forward regardless of the spiritual flames influence. The shoot upward, the gap between Maho and these strands of rope becoming too small. The coil and strike into the cloud. From within the smoke, these threads seem to slice and pierce whatever remains within. Their speed too great to be overcome in this way, Maho is seemingly met with what one can only be described as destruction. His next words are incomprehensible. Hidden behind a grand flash of light. A great show of strength. The area to the right of Itsuki is overcome by a terrible level of spiritual energy. It is hot. It is focused.
Maho’s Voice, behind the sound of combustion. The roar of spirit energy which had been held for several moments. All of that power is released. He calls the techniques name. Any who had saw his battle with Higen, where he had proved himself worthy of Captaincy, Would know it well.
Ryōōōōōōōōdaaaaaaan!!!!!!

Maho’s right arm traces an arch, straight up into the air. Like an uppercut, all of that superheated spirit energy escapes, ripping at the very air, it violently crashes into the shielded barrier of threads formed by Itsuki. Dangerous to take head on, this energy drowns out the noise of battle. Muffling all that happened beneath its influence. It strikes along his shielding, and Maho watches as his threading holds for only a moment,. But with so much prepared energy. It stood to reason that no simple defense would be enough to fully protect him. Not without some unconventional method. This wave of power was superheated due to the influence of his Shunko. He had called both techniques out before to initiate them. Both techniques, combined two combat philosophies prominent in the Dragons Arsenal. The first, Ryu; Kamae (Lit. Dragon Stance) applies to misc. influence of his Shunko. The second Tetsu; Kamae(Iron Stance) which applied to the varied and specialized use of his Zanpakuto. With it, He could use his gauntlet like a sword, utilizing Zanjutsu or Hakuda techniques on the fly. In combining these combat philosophies, he granted to flaming aspect to his use of Ryōdan and applied spirit energy to what would otherwise solely rely on physical strength and whatever latent energy applied to the internal structure of a Zanpakuto. This technique, if he had to give it a name, could be Atsu Modo: Ippai Kinzoku: Ryōdan (Lit.Heat Mode: Full Metal; Bisection). Had he relieved himself of this technique from long range, even with its power, it would have sufficiently diminished the quality of damage. But Maho was only about fifteen Yards away from Itsuki now. Not the original intended distance, but it would have to do.
But then, how did The Dragon get here?
Maho himself is capable of swapping with his Zanpakuto. So long at it holds a like size and shape to his own. These five foot masses had appeared on three sides. Each giving him a window of opportunity. While knowing his technique would keep the attention of his opponent. He purposely corners himself. Purposely increases his speed and begins his strike in advance. Knowing what would happen next, he activates his reiatsu many turns ahead of the shift he was sure Itsuki would not notice. But notice as he may, reacting correctly would be its own task. From his left side, Maho flickers into view, the large black mass now gone. He hovers an equal fifteen yard distance off the ground and to the left of Itsuki. His upward swing, mimics the one that had scarred Higen’s flesh many years ago. And what projects afterward is much the same. A long laser-like surge of power traveling in a straight line. It strikes against his barrier in well under a seconds time. With all this force, it creates an eighteen yard wide fission in the ground, one which spans a half mile beyond both competitors. It is deep, unknowingly so. The force shoots Maho away from Itsuki as he fires, it, he shoots several meters backward, coming to a skidding halt along the very surface of the air. Most of its destructive capability is present at close range, Making Itsuki’s threaded prison that much more terrifying. Shikai could apparently be broken in a number of ways. Including the Zanpakuto effect of others. So with so many threads at his disposal. It was logical to assume that their integrity wavered the more we’re in play. This was similar to Maho, as the less weapons he maintained, the more durable and able to withstand the effects of others they became. Of course…even this fact was loose and varied. It didn’t matter though. With so much power at play, the physics began to bend and mold. This was evident in the destruction created.

It erupts like a bomb, much greater than that which had been enacted earlier. This one was focused. Timed. Empowered. Maho had set this assault up a long time ago. Waiting for his moment to strike. He could tell, in his minds eye and in all that he saw that the longer he waited. The more space he allowed. The more difficult it would be to get close. He would have to split his opponents attention. And observe closely at how he responds. He had observed Itsuki’s act of turtling as a sign. A grand opportunity. He bound his threads to prevent himself from being pierced. Maho knew now, that given the location of Itsuki’s spiritual pressure, his body had not yet moved. He held close to the possibility of his opponent relocating. But this was secondary. His opponent was patient, but reactive. He would have his opening. The attack stretches far far into the horizon, dissipating in a wave of heat and flame. Dust overtakes the scene, filling the sky with obstruction. If Itsuki should survive, Maho would call the battle there. He calls out, hoping the man is listening. Hoping he is not blinded by his need to fight.
"That's enough! I've seen everything I've needed too! Lay down your arms!"

 

[Shinigami]

The curtain was closing… the last moments of this epic but brief battle coming up fast. Even without the ability to foretell the future, Itsuki could not imagine this herculean struggle to last much longer. The two Shinigami had brought such immense destruction that the Valley of Screams from just moments before now became lost to memories. It was only natural, Itsuki thought, that this battle would be a brief but unforgettable blaze.
Itsuki within his threaded chamber began his plan to skewer the Captain like deli meat, yet soon found his original idea cut short just as he formed his great threaded turbine in the sky. Somehow… somehow these blades kept on surviving with an almost bacteria-esque tenacity, Itsuki’s tongue flickered in amusement as he once again had to recalculate with not even a moment to spare. He sacrificed speed for vision; halving the speed of the frenzied ropes that whipped above to regain his complete dominion over the ground and all below. Itsuki did this all because those pesky daggers had struck his threaded home away from home… He could feel the immense force of Kojima trying to breach past the ten ton fibers of Itobeni and while again impressed by the resilience of the Captain’s Zanpaktou he couldn’t say he’d been impressed so far by his religious adherence to brawns over brains.
“Haaah?”
As Itsuki felt the Captain being drawn into the pressurized maw of his beloved Itobeni’s embrace, he couldn’t help but furrow his brow as the Captain roared and bellowed, Itsuki always found those with the loudest bark often lacked a bite to match. Suddenly though… something was amiss… He sensed Kojima beside him, Itsuki took just a moment to read the great threaded network that canvassed their war-zone and realized quickly that Kojima had somehow teleported. Itsuki quickly rationalized that the spatial displacement used earlier must apply to organic life… No. It applied likely to only Kojima himself, otherwise the Captain could have easily ripped Itsuki from his tethered safe-house. He clucked his tongue as he pieced together several likely rules to the Captain’s space-time abilities based on their battle though he also realized that the Captain could misrepresent his powers… Although his constant lean to brawn before brains made Itsuki doubt that possibility strongly.
It was truly a shame that Kojima had attempted to pry open the ropes with his blades moments earlier, their own assault met with failure because of the impaling force ushered by the thousands of small but powerful blasts of built up pressure that per design released their fury into his striking daggers and repelling them from the husk of threads that protected Itsuki. Kojima’s attempt to slice open the belly of Itobeni he alerted Itsuki to keep vigilant down below, He felt Kojima; He felt the blast that he was conjuring. Above all else, though, he felt… disappointment. If only Kojima had started with this ominous force rather than trying his poultry slashing, it could have easily incinerated several of Itobeni’s layers if not the entirety that nestled and nurtured Itsuki, however the reality of the situation was that Itsuki was once again ever-vigilant… his power once more coursing through the entire network… and attention now divided between both above AND below all because Kojima attacked with his daggers again.
Itsuki twitched… convulsing where he stood as Itobeni relayed to him the terrifying might of Kojima’s charging fury from the squirming tendrils of Itobeni that crept beneath the two Shinigami. It was… incredible. Perhaps this Captain truly had something right with the brawn approach… or perhaps he did not. The same moment that Itsuki could feel the blast being released by Kojima, suddenly the very threads that slumbered beneath the Captain’s feet shot upwards. It was like watching a volcano spew into creation as the radiant red thread flooded the world between the two and… encapsulated the blast before it could fully mature. It burned thousands of layers to ash in an instant… but the ropes which continuously stretched and wrapped continuously around the blast between the two ate the brutal blow and rendered its damage merely something that could have been. Itsuki clutched Itobeni hard, snarling and heaving as he hunched over in his own creation, trying to regain his composure. Before he could respond with his own assault, Itsuki’s ears caught something… He took a moment to process what he heard. It was the Captain barking their command. While Itsuki would have loved to continue this game, he understood… everything must end.
“I understand, Captain Kojima!”
Itsuki howled back, and as he did… the very land they stood upon seemed to tremble. Itsuki had put Itobeni to sleep… and in that moment the entire three-hundred-yard radius it had eaten no longer had the support it depended on. The threads in view, and those threads just beyond view, had shuttered into non-existence… leaving only their scars in this empty world… the scars something fated it to have, as Itobeni’s influence on the world disappeared mountains crumbled and the very ground beneath their very feet collapsed into a deep… dark… and seemingly endless chasm. Itsuki, afloat by the reishi gathered at his feet, stood above this gaping hole & once more bowed to the Captain… ending like he began.
“THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME, KOJIMA-TAICHOU!”
As Itsuki bowed deeply he once more raised his head… but in lieu of his once big blue eyes he now had two blue marbles drowning in a deep sea of blood and yet across his face was not a pained or upset expression, instead he seemed almost happier than when they started—albeit much creepier with his mutilated gaze. Itsuki has made many people euphoric with his own presence but never truly felt that happiness himself… until now. Kojima had sharpened his instincts… forced him to adapt and grow… it was this chance to grow that truly made Itsuki… happy.