Post by Miranda Frost on Jul 23, 2022 6:16:50 GMT -5
((put me down for a lil bit of SP))
They say that rain falls after great battles. Could this be the reason why the clouds were thickening over head. Miranda scowled at the sky and continued her journey onward, approaching the district that had served as her home before she became a shinigami. There she was indoctrinated into their sadistic cult, groomed to be a sacrifice to the two great statues this trade post was built around. It was said that the Chosen Maidens’ sacrifice would keep the two great and terrible powers housed within at bay.
In their care, if you could even call it that, she and the other maidens were made to believe that this sacrifice was their choice to make, that their lives here in the soul society had no other meaning than to go through with the rituals and become one with the stream of reishi that cut through the outpost. There was no choice. Even if some disagreed with the suggestion, they’d be tortured until they sought out that sweet release of death. Miranda had been fortunate and was able to get away during a guard change out. Miranda could still hear the cries of her fellow Maidens as they cried out to her in longing and despair, but she would leave them behind.
The fates were cruel, but in their cruelty a certain fortune can be found. Miranda had become the Third Seat of Squad Ten and she with a small compliment of Onmitsukido Shinobi would return to her old home and uproot the disease that had been festering there for centuries. The Third Seat had been confident to go alone, but the offer of assistance from the stealth squad would reduce the amount of fighting she’d have to do.
When Miranda had met with their squad, she had given them all she found out about the twisted soul she fought near the district. She informed them of its potent power and lust for blood as well as its formidible armor. Every detail from the weapon of choice to its weakness was given over. In return they informed her that the cult had been on their radar for quite some time, but due to their inclusivity and the multiple invasions over the years, they decided to leave them be. They wouldn’t normally send a force to clean up shop, but since a seasoned third seat was attending to the issue, they were happy to assist.
They were there as she thought back on the plans. They would infiltrate and eliminate the halberd wielding monstrosities and let Miranda into the Priest’s sanctum without contest. There she would snuff out the Priest’s life and begin working on burning away their supposed holy texts. The plan was well made. According to them, their activity had not changed since the attack on the nearby district. This could be due to the recent demon incursions, but everything seemed to be normal when it came to operations on their end. Good.
Miranda approached the main gate, its wooden palisades opening for her as she casually entered the outpost. It had been at least a year since her return here. The place had always been on the decaying side of things, but it had gotten worse. Buildings seemed to be plagued with rot and bodies could be found leaning against some of the residences. As planned, Miranda did not see a single guard. It was quiet, deathly quiet at that. Her eyes turned towards the church and spat on the muddied ground beneath her feet. That cursed building was the only one that appeared to be cared for. These poor fools.
She would be approached by a pair of figures cloaked in shadows, revealing themselves from a nearby ally way. “Yo, Miranda! Should have seen us clean up shop. Not a single one was able to utilize the powers you described. You weren’t lying to us, were ya?”, the shinobi unseated seemed disappointed, but she just sighed and approached the church. It was as she had expected of them. The knight-like guards didn’t have much when it came to sensing energy. Even if they did, they wouldnt have been able to counter their proficiency in stealth.
“No. Your skills are more appropriate to the job. If you were itching for a fight, you should have joined Squad 11.”, she’d respond with a grave stare drilling into their hood shrouded face. The shinobi regained his bearing and saluted her. “Ima just go uh, evacuate the town now. I’ll organize what we can and move all civilians to the neighboring district for treatment.” He said and turned to leave, but Miranda stopped him. “Call for assistance from Squad 4, there may be souls worse off than you realize.” Her head turned to the quiter one who was paired up with the other. “Is He inside?”
The shinobi nodded and moved past Miranda in a hurried pace, placing her hand upon an empty space three feet off from the door as if she was leaning against a wall. “The priest has put up a kido wall of some sort. Weak by the looks of it. We weren’t prepared to puncture something like this.” Miranda nodded and place a hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder, guiding her back behind the Third Seat. “If it is as you describe, then my skills are more appropriate for this job”
Miranda held out her hand, summoning forth a rough crystal hammer, its facets shimmering slightly as she took it into her hand. She’d step back and draw it back as if to strike before sending it forth, throwing it at the barrier. It’d collide with the invisible barrier with a rather dense sound echoing from it. Cracks in the the space began to form and Miranda increased its momentum to break through, crashing it through the door behind it for good measure. Miranda allowed herself a slight smile before approaching and shoving open the shattered door, motioning for the lone shinobi to follow. “Inside is an entrance to the basement. There will be cages filled with imprisoned souls. There should be another way out from down there. Take them and follow the rest of your compliment.”
Her determined eyes turned towards the priest whose back was presented to her. He appeared to be drinking from a gold, jewel encrusted bowl, its contents Miranda knew all too well. He drank from the reishi rich waters of the fountain that made itself the prominent feature in this church. Flanking it were a pair of statues. One reptilian beast clansmen with long, vicious claws poised to strike at the other, a smaller shinigami clad in samurai armor, knelt down and presenting a katana. A glowing stream of reishi connected the two to the fountain the Priest drank from.
“You should go now, He’s prepared to fight back against us.” The shinobi nervously nodded and disappeared from sight. “You should stop while you’re ahead. Come with us and your trial will be fair. We can ensure you’ll be put in prison rather than executed. If you intend to fight me… “ Miranda gritted her teeth and recalled the hammer back to her hand, pointing it at the Priest in resignation. “I’ll have to take matters into my own hand”
The priest’s head bow as if in prayer andshed the pristine white robes from his shoulders, revealing the heavily scarred, lean musculature hidden beneath.”Yes, Yes. I can tell”. The priest laughed and walked calmly to his podium, his arms stretching wide as he looked down upon her, clearly ignoring her warning. Miranda blinked and began walking, only stopping when he resumed speaking. “It is written upon your face. You have doubts about something you did, or perhaps didn’t do. I am Cronus. Regret, Despair, Pain, Delusion, Confusion, what wonderful gifts they are. Together they are the essence of life”
“I suppose I can allow you your final words. No harm in it”, she’d growl, crossing her arms as she waited for the priest to finish up. Truth was that he was correct about one thing. She had doubts about all of this. This man had been a nightmare to her for so long, and she still didnt know what he could do. Granted, his spiritual pressure was a bit below hers, but his physicality could make up for it. Miranda watched as he walked over to the statue of the samurai, an ancient shinigami by the name of Creightyn.
“Now, you’re lost, shackled by you’re own memories. You poor little thing.” He’d grasp the hilt of the stone katana, tearing it from the crumbling hands that held it. He’d test its weight and sliced it against the remainder of the statue. Miranda had expected the blade to snap, after all it was stone. However, she’d be surprised as the statue shattered underneath the swing. “Yes yes, how tiny and frail you are, just like the rest, but if your heart is yet sincere…” Cronus sneered, disappearing, kicking up dust as he used what appeared to be shunpo to close the distance. Miranda stepped back, conjuring a small wall of crystal to block the incoming strike.
“Your Sins will be forgiven” The stone blade would be stopped, but it did considerable damage to its structure. Miranda noted the cracks lining up and down its surface. I would not survive another blow. The blade bounced off, but the man expertly twisted it and followed its momentum into another strike, but neither her construct or the shinigami herself would be there. “Demonstrate your sincerity to me.”
She’d step back again, nearly slipping on the polished marble flooring. Now that she got a good look at him, she’d see the blade’s effect on him. Stone thornes had grown out from the hilt, piercing his hand and petrifying him up to his fore arm. “That’s no Zanpakuto”, she’d observe aloud, calling four crystal spears to her side. The priest approached her slowly, laughing. His cackles unnerved her, shaking her deeper than she’d like to admit.
“Correct, young one. This blade predates Zanpakuto as a concept. It is a cursed blade that draws out one’s hidden darkness. That’s what gives it its strength.” He’d flash step closer again thrusting out at her. She had been so distracted by her own fluctuating dread that she’d delay her response, the blade clipping her side. A barely visible shadow would serve as the otherwise dull blade’s edge and it was quite sharp. Despite it being only a small superficial cut, she felt as if he’d drove it through her chest. She’d clutch at her uniform and stumble back.
He’d follow up with a flurry of blows each one countered by one of her spears. He’d shatter through them, scattering its fragments to the wind. Still she brought them out one by one, the man driving her against the wall. “You can feel it, your underlying darkness growing, eating at you. You’ve felt this pain before havent you? I recall you confessing to me the pain of your soul hollowing away when you arrived. Come, give into it, let it consume you and be forgiven!”
Her eyes widened at his words, remembering the armored knight she fought days prior. When she removed its helmet, what lay beneath was a hollowed out husk of a soul, a shell of flesh with erratic spiritual energy beneath. It wasn’t the result of the ritual, it was a result of this blade. A blade of forgiveness, he would call it, that punished those who doubted the priest by stripping them of their sentience.
She could feel the dark tendrils stretch out from her chest beneath her skin where her soul chain used to be, spreading and spreading. No, it wouldn’t end like this. It couldn’t! She couldn’t handle the shame of losing her life due to carelessness. She would not suffer this again. She’d step forward, constantly summoning her spears and blades to block and strike at him. She’d up the number, add one to her left, one to the right, one above. They’d strike without grace, without elegance. Each one meaning to kill. “It is not to late to surrender.”, she’d offer once more. Though she was afraid of dying to this affliction, she was much more afraid of the blood she’d inevitibly spill. The poor fool, he mustn’t make her do this. “Please don’t make me do this. “
He couldn’t speak. His faculties were all taken up by the cloud of blades striking at him. So far he’d block every single one with swordsmanship befitting one of Squad 11. Fool, if he’d just surrender and serve his sentence, His sins would be forgiven despite it all and would be put to service and given a proper zanpakuto. Instead he struggled, being pushed back to the wall where he belonged by a frail maiden such as herself.
In desperation he’d step out of range of her attacks, through the screen of blades. Poor choice, one would manage to catch his thigh and another his gut as he sped through, staining the once mirror like floor with blood. Miranda averted her eyes and turned her back on him. She could feel him shunpo again, but she’d be ready, the moment his foot set down upon the marble surface, he would be surrounded by a swarm of smaller, dagger like spears that materialized before him.
There was no organ that was left unscathed as each one tore through him at maximum speed. Death was instant and no more pain would have come of him. The crystal constructs would dissipate and his body would fall to the floor, landing in a puddle of his own corrupted blood. Her chest pounded and her muscles ached. She could feel the tendrils dissipate and vanish. She walked around the body, careful to avert her eyes of the mess she made. She’d need to speak to her captain or anyone after this. Her phobia of blood had her body shaking.
If it weren’t for her training and willpower, she’d be balled up in a corner, losing herself. She was a better person now, though. It still terrified her. She’ll suffer nightmares from this day for a time, but she could still act under the fear. She’d approach the statues, observing the stone Reptilian. “There was no need to sacrifice so many to keep you like this. There is nothing left.”, she’d mutter, manipulating a crystal hammer to slam down against it, shattering it, breaking it down to nothing but a pile of gravel. “Thousands of years you’ve been sealed, nothing can resist the flow of time for that long, not like this.” She pitied them both. What if those warriors of old knew what their legends would inspire. Would it change anything?
Miranda would hear the clattering of footsteps behind her and would turn to see them. A relief team from squad 10 and 4 had arrived to survey the outpost and to dispose of any questionable artifacts. They went right to work, checking the priest’s vitals despite the large pool of blood he rested in and the grousome wounds Miranda gifted him. They’d move along to the basement in which the female shinobi would emerge to join with her once more. “Another team took the group as I freed them. It’s good you sent me down there… It wasn’t pretty.”
Miranda nodded in understanding. She knew the conditions they were kept in. She herself was once held in such a way. The Third Seat was sure that it was possibly worse than it was years ago due to the many escapes over the years. Still those memories haunted her. The smell of rusted iron the cages were made of, the stains of coagulated blood along the walls as desperate souls tried to claw their way to freedom, and the torture. God the torture. Miranda clutched her chest, a dull aching throbbing as the memories came to light.
The shinobi, seeing her distress changed the subject. “What’s the story behind them?”, she’d ask, motioning to the smashed statues. Miranda sighed and steeled herself, glancing as a squad four member approached and began to patch up her cut. “There was a battle here thousands of years ago, perhaps more. Relations between this district and a nearby beastclan tribe had gone shaky to the point of violence. This king..”. She’d motion to the remains of the reptilian beastclansmen “united nearby clans and struck this place hard. A rogue shinigami just happened to be using this place to hide and when given the opportunity to fight off the invaders or flee, he chose to fight.”
Miranda sighed glancing towards the broken stone blade by the priest’s corpse. “With his cursed blade he set up a trap, a seal of sorts focused on a reishi stream that cut through this district.” Her other hand would motion weakly to the crumbling fountain. “This Creightyn would utilize the stream as a medium and his own body as a power source to petrify a being he could not defeat. They’d both be turned to stone and the tribesmen retreated, fearing that they too would be caught in the spell.”
“Rumors spread and legends formed. A religion over the years formed from the simple act of paying thanks to the rogue shinigami. Eventually the townsfolk here would begin to believe that only their prayer and sacrifice would keep the beast king in stasis. Fools, the lot of them.” she’d spit at the ground before her and bow her head slightly to the squad 4 member that patched her up. She’d turn to the Shinobi and cross her arms. “If they were still alive the Sereitei would have sent kill teams to raze the entire area. These two were theorized to be at least be low captain level in strength. As skilled as you are, you wouldn’t have been able to combat these foes. Not even I could, if legend is correct.”
She’d take a step, but found her step weak. She blinked and found herself caught by the shinobi. Miranda’s chest pounded and ached. The power of the cursed blade was gone yet something was changing, something was actively expanding within herself, as if trying to escape. “Easy easy, breath. I’ll get you some help”, the Shinobi stated. Flagging down one of the medics to take a look at her. “I don’t need. H-he--”, she’d begin to protest before a pulse dragged her from consciousness. It was almost as if she fell away from her vision, her being shrinking within her shell. She’d call out internally, but none would hear her but the enveloping void.
Her will had fallen, her soul was fading, and her soul of old had begun to reemerge
They say that rain falls after great battles. Could this be the reason why the clouds were thickening over head. Miranda scowled at the sky and continued her journey onward, approaching the district that had served as her home before she became a shinigami. There she was indoctrinated into their sadistic cult, groomed to be a sacrifice to the two great statues this trade post was built around. It was said that the Chosen Maidens’ sacrifice would keep the two great and terrible powers housed within at bay.
In their care, if you could even call it that, she and the other maidens were made to believe that this sacrifice was their choice to make, that their lives here in the soul society had no other meaning than to go through with the rituals and become one with the stream of reishi that cut through the outpost. There was no choice. Even if some disagreed with the suggestion, they’d be tortured until they sought out that sweet release of death. Miranda had been fortunate and was able to get away during a guard change out. Miranda could still hear the cries of her fellow Maidens as they cried out to her in longing and despair, but she would leave them behind.
The fates were cruel, but in their cruelty a certain fortune can be found. Miranda had become the Third Seat of Squad Ten and she with a small compliment of Onmitsukido Shinobi would return to her old home and uproot the disease that had been festering there for centuries. The Third Seat had been confident to go alone, but the offer of assistance from the stealth squad would reduce the amount of fighting she’d have to do.
When Miranda had met with their squad, she had given them all she found out about the twisted soul she fought near the district. She informed them of its potent power and lust for blood as well as its formidible armor. Every detail from the weapon of choice to its weakness was given over. In return they informed her that the cult had been on their radar for quite some time, but due to their inclusivity and the multiple invasions over the years, they decided to leave them be. They wouldn’t normally send a force to clean up shop, but since a seasoned third seat was attending to the issue, they were happy to assist.
They were there as she thought back on the plans. They would infiltrate and eliminate the halberd wielding monstrosities and let Miranda into the Priest’s sanctum without contest. There she would snuff out the Priest’s life and begin working on burning away their supposed holy texts. The plan was well made. According to them, their activity had not changed since the attack on the nearby district. This could be due to the recent demon incursions, but everything seemed to be normal when it came to operations on their end. Good.
Miranda approached the main gate, its wooden palisades opening for her as she casually entered the outpost. It had been at least a year since her return here. The place had always been on the decaying side of things, but it had gotten worse. Buildings seemed to be plagued with rot and bodies could be found leaning against some of the residences. As planned, Miranda did not see a single guard. It was quiet, deathly quiet at that. Her eyes turned towards the church and spat on the muddied ground beneath her feet. That cursed building was the only one that appeared to be cared for. These poor fools.
She would be approached by a pair of figures cloaked in shadows, revealing themselves from a nearby ally way. “Yo, Miranda! Should have seen us clean up shop. Not a single one was able to utilize the powers you described. You weren’t lying to us, were ya?”, the shinobi unseated seemed disappointed, but she just sighed and approached the church. It was as she had expected of them. The knight-like guards didn’t have much when it came to sensing energy. Even if they did, they wouldnt have been able to counter their proficiency in stealth.
“No. Your skills are more appropriate to the job. If you were itching for a fight, you should have joined Squad 11.”, she’d respond with a grave stare drilling into their hood shrouded face. The shinobi regained his bearing and saluted her. “Ima just go uh, evacuate the town now. I’ll organize what we can and move all civilians to the neighboring district for treatment.” He said and turned to leave, but Miranda stopped him. “Call for assistance from Squad 4, there may be souls worse off than you realize.” Her head turned to the quiter one who was paired up with the other. “Is He inside?”
The shinobi nodded and moved past Miranda in a hurried pace, placing her hand upon an empty space three feet off from the door as if she was leaning against a wall. “The priest has put up a kido wall of some sort. Weak by the looks of it. We weren’t prepared to puncture something like this.” Miranda nodded and place a hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder, guiding her back behind the Third Seat. “If it is as you describe, then my skills are more appropriate for this job”
Miranda held out her hand, summoning forth a rough crystal hammer, its facets shimmering slightly as she took it into her hand. She’d step back and draw it back as if to strike before sending it forth, throwing it at the barrier. It’d collide with the invisible barrier with a rather dense sound echoing from it. Cracks in the the space began to form and Miranda increased its momentum to break through, crashing it through the door behind it for good measure. Miranda allowed herself a slight smile before approaching and shoving open the shattered door, motioning for the lone shinobi to follow. “Inside is an entrance to the basement. There will be cages filled with imprisoned souls. There should be another way out from down there. Take them and follow the rest of your compliment.”
Her determined eyes turned towards the priest whose back was presented to her. He appeared to be drinking from a gold, jewel encrusted bowl, its contents Miranda knew all too well. He drank from the reishi rich waters of the fountain that made itself the prominent feature in this church. Flanking it were a pair of statues. One reptilian beast clansmen with long, vicious claws poised to strike at the other, a smaller shinigami clad in samurai armor, knelt down and presenting a katana. A glowing stream of reishi connected the two to the fountain the Priest drank from.
“You should go now, He’s prepared to fight back against us.” The shinobi nervously nodded and disappeared from sight. “You should stop while you’re ahead. Come with us and your trial will be fair. We can ensure you’ll be put in prison rather than executed. If you intend to fight me… “ Miranda gritted her teeth and recalled the hammer back to her hand, pointing it at the Priest in resignation. “I’ll have to take matters into my own hand”
The priest’s head bow as if in prayer andshed the pristine white robes from his shoulders, revealing the heavily scarred, lean musculature hidden beneath.”Yes, Yes. I can tell”. The priest laughed and walked calmly to his podium, his arms stretching wide as he looked down upon her, clearly ignoring her warning. Miranda blinked and began walking, only stopping when he resumed speaking. “It is written upon your face. You have doubts about something you did, or perhaps didn’t do. I am Cronus. Regret, Despair, Pain, Delusion, Confusion, what wonderful gifts they are. Together they are the essence of life”
“I suppose I can allow you your final words. No harm in it”, she’d growl, crossing her arms as she waited for the priest to finish up. Truth was that he was correct about one thing. She had doubts about all of this. This man had been a nightmare to her for so long, and she still didnt know what he could do. Granted, his spiritual pressure was a bit below hers, but his physicality could make up for it. Miranda watched as he walked over to the statue of the samurai, an ancient shinigami by the name of Creightyn.
“Now, you’re lost, shackled by you’re own memories. You poor little thing.” He’d grasp the hilt of the stone katana, tearing it from the crumbling hands that held it. He’d test its weight and sliced it against the remainder of the statue. Miranda had expected the blade to snap, after all it was stone. However, she’d be surprised as the statue shattered underneath the swing. “Yes yes, how tiny and frail you are, just like the rest, but if your heart is yet sincere…” Cronus sneered, disappearing, kicking up dust as he used what appeared to be shunpo to close the distance. Miranda stepped back, conjuring a small wall of crystal to block the incoming strike.
“Your Sins will be forgiven” The stone blade would be stopped, but it did considerable damage to its structure. Miranda noted the cracks lining up and down its surface. I would not survive another blow. The blade bounced off, but the man expertly twisted it and followed its momentum into another strike, but neither her construct or the shinigami herself would be there. “Demonstrate your sincerity to me.”
She’d step back again, nearly slipping on the polished marble flooring. Now that she got a good look at him, she’d see the blade’s effect on him. Stone thornes had grown out from the hilt, piercing his hand and petrifying him up to his fore arm. “That’s no Zanpakuto”, she’d observe aloud, calling four crystal spears to her side. The priest approached her slowly, laughing. His cackles unnerved her, shaking her deeper than she’d like to admit.
“Correct, young one. This blade predates Zanpakuto as a concept. It is a cursed blade that draws out one’s hidden darkness. That’s what gives it its strength.” He’d flash step closer again thrusting out at her. She had been so distracted by her own fluctuating dread that she’d delay her response, the blade clipping her side. A barely visible shadow would serve as the otherwise dull blade’s edge and it was quite sharp. Despite it being only a small superficial cut, she felt as if he’d drove it through her chest. She’d clutch at her uniform and stumble back.
He’d follow up with a flurry of blows each one countered by one of her spears. He’d shatter through them, scattering its fragments to the wind. Still she brought them out one by one, the man driving her against the wall. “You can feel it, your underlying darkness growing, eating at you. You’ve felt this pain before havent you? I recall you confessing to me the pain of your soul hollowing away when you arrived. Come, give into it, let it consume you and be forgiven!”
Her eyes widened at his words, remembering the armored knight she fought days prior. When she removed its helmet, what lay beneath was a hollowed out husk of a soul, a shell of flesh with erratic spiritual energy beneath. It wasn’t the result of the ritual, it was a result of this blade. A blade of forgiveness, he would call it, that punished those who doubted the priest by stripping them of their sentience.
She could feel the dark tendrils stretch out from her chest beneath her skin where her soul chain used to be, spreading and spreading. No, it wouldn’t end like this. It couldn’t! She couldn’t handle the shame of losing her life due to carelessness. She would not suffer this again. She’d step forward, constantly summoning her spears and blades to block and strike at him. She’d up the number, add one to her left, one to the right, one above. They’d strike without grace, without elegance. Each one meaning to kill. “It is not to late to surrender.”, she’d offer once more. Though she was afraid of dying to this affliction, she was much more afraid of the blood she’d inevitibly spill. The poor fool, he mustn’t make her do this. “Please don’t make me do this. “
He couldn’t speak. His faculties were all taken up by the cloud of blades striking at him. So far he’d block every single one with swordsmanship befitting one of Squad 11. Fool, if he’d just surrender and serve his sentence, His sins would be forgiven despite it all and would be put to service and given a proper zanpakuto. Instead he struggled, being pushed back to the wall where he belonged by a frail maiden such as herself.
In desperation he’d step out of range of her attacks, through the screen of blades. Poor choice, one would manage to catch his thigh and another his gut as he sped through, staining the once mirror like floor with blood. Miranda averted her eyes and turned her back on him. She could feel him shunpo again, but she’d be ready, the moment his foot set down upon the marble surface, he would be surrounded by a swarm of smaller, dagger like spears that materialized before him.
There was no organ that was left unscathed as each one tore through him at maximum speed. Death was instant and no more pain would have come of him. The crystal constructs would dissipate and his body would fall to the floor, landing in a puddle of his own corrupted blood. Her chest pounded and her muscles ached. She could feel the tendrils dissipate and vanish. She walked around the body, careful to avert her eyes of the mess she made. She’d need to speak to her captain or anyone after this. Her phobia of blood had her body shaking.
If it weren’t for her training and willpower, she’d be balled up in a corner, losing herself. She was a better person now, though. It still terrified her. She’ll suffer nightmares from this day for a time, but she could still act under the fear. She’d approach the statues, observing the stone Reptilian. “There was no need to sacrifice so many to keep you like this. There is nothing left.”, she’d mutter, manipulating a crystal hammer to slam down against it, shattering it, breaking it down to nothing but a pile of gravel. “Thousands of years you’ve been sealed, nothing can resist the flow of time for that long, not like this.” She pitied them both. What if those warriors of old knew what their legends would inspire. Would it change anything?
Miranda would hear the clattering of footsteps behind her and would turn to see them. A relief team from squad 10 and 4 had arrived to survey the outpost and to dispose of any questionable artifacts. They went right to work, checking the priest’s vitals despite the large pool of blood he rested in and the grousome wounds Miranda gifted him. They’d move along to the basement in which the female shinobi would emerge to join with her once more. “Another team took the group as I freed them. It’s good you sent me down there… It wasn’t pretty.”
Miranda nodded in understanding. She knew the conditions they were kept in. She herself was once held in such a way. The Third Seat was sure that it was possibly worse than it was years ago due to the many escapes over the years. Still those memories haunted her. The smell of rusted iron the cages were made of, the stains of coagulated blood along the walls as desperate souls tried to claw their way to freedom, and the torture. God the torture. Miranda clutched her chest, a dull aching throbbing as the memories came to light.
The shinobi, seeing her distress changed the subject. “What’s the story behind them?”, she’d ask, motioning to the smashed statues. Miranda sighed and steeled herself, glancing as a squad four member approached and began to patch up her cut. “There was a battle here thousands of years ago, perhaps more. Relations between this district and a nearby beastclan tribe had gone shaky to the point of violence. This king..”. She’d motion to the remains of the reptilian beastclansmen “united nearby clans and struck this place hard. A rogue shinigami just happened to be using this place to hide and when given the opportunity to fight off the invaders or flee, he chose to fight.”
Miranda sighed glancing towards the broken stone blade by the priest’s corpse. “With his cursed blade he set up a trap, a seal of sorts focused on a reishi stream that cut through this district.” Her other hand would motion weakly to the crumbling fountain. “This Creightyn would utilize the stream as a medium and his own body as a power source to petrify a being he could not defeat. They’d both be turned to stone and the tribesmen retreated, fearing that they too would be caught in the spell.”
“Rumors spread and legends formed. A religion over the years formed from the simple act of paying thanks to the rogue shinigami. Eventually the townsfolk here would begin to believe that only their prayer and sacrifice would keep the beast king in stasis. Fools, the lot of them.” she’d spit at the ground before her and bow her head slightly to the squad 4 member that patched her up. She’d turn to the Shinobi and cross her arms. “If they were still alive the Sereitei would have sent kill teams to raze the entire area. These two were theorized to be at least be low captain level in strength. As skilled as you are, you wouldn’t have been able to combat these foes. Not even I could, if legend is correct.”
She’d take a step, but found her step weak. She blinked and found herself caught by the shinobi. Miranda’s chest pounded and ached. The power of the cursed blade was gone yet something was changing, something was actively expanding within herself, as if trying to escape. “Easy easy, breath. I’ll get you some help”, the Shinobi stated. Flagging down one of the medics to take a look at her. “I don’t need. H-he--”, she’d begin to protest before a pulse dragged her from consciousness. It was almost as if she fell away from her vision, her being shrinking within her shell. She’d call out internally, but none would hear her but the enveloping void.
Her will had fallen, her soul was fading, and her soul of old had begun to reemerge
