Reign of Shadows

[Alacrán]

In the depths of Karakura Town, where the veil between worlds grew thin, a figure prowled with predatory intent. Concealed within the guise of dark skinned man, Alacrán stalked the streets, a predator in search of prey. But unlike those who cowered in fear, Alacrán reveled in the thrill of the hunt, his hunger insatiable, his motives far from noble.

With each encounter, Alacrán emerged as a force to be reckoned with, a brutal enforcer of his own twisted sense of justice. As the weaker Hollows dared to show themselves, drawn by the scent of unsuspecting souls, Alacrán struck without mercy. His blows were swift and merciless, reducing his adversaries to mere echoes of their former selves.

In the darkness of the night, the streets of Karakura Town became a battleground, a testament to Alacrán's unrelenting pursuit of dominance. The echoes of his victims' screams reverberated through the alleyways, a grim reminder of Alacrán's power and ferocity. No corner remained untouched by the violence, no shadow safe from his relentless gaze.

But amidst the chaos, Alacrán cared little for the well-being of the town or its residents. His actions were driven by primal instinct, a desire to assert dominance over those he deemed unworthy. The weak were purged without remorse, their existence deemed inconsequential in Alacrán's ruthless quest for to quell the weak from the strong.

As the night waned and the dawn approached, Karakura Town bore witness to the aftermath of Alacrán's reign of terror. The streets lay littered with the broken bodies of defeated Hollows, a grim testament to Alacrán's unwavering resolve. And as the first rays of sunlight pierced the darkness, Alacrán vanished into the shadows once more, leaving behind a town tainted by fear and despair.

But little did Alacrán know, his actions had not gone unnoticed. In the shadows of Karakura Town, amidst the lingering echoes of battle, the stage was set for an encounter that would shape the destinies of all who crossed its path. Perhaps fate would soon intervene, as Alacrán's path crossed with another, someone who would prove to be more than a mere obstacle in his quest for power.

[Ren Akasawa]

A figure in a battered Vandenreich cloak wandered the streets, lit by a dripping halo of reishi as they surveyed the remains of a recent battle. Quizzically gazed from a steel bench bent out of shape by an immense impact to a clean semicircle melted into the corner of a building; both were lasting scars on the town. It had been that kind of physical evidence that had carried them this far in the pursuit; all spiritual traces were left thoroughly ignored, as though the silhouette in white and red were unable to discern them. And yet they turned their head to spare a glance at the dissolving hollow remains they'd walked past once they'd drank in the scene and found enough directionality in the destruction to continue their pursuit of whoever or whatever had caused this. This way?

While they had heard the sounds of battle on and off through the night and seen the aftermath of multiple slayings while following it, it was obvious that for all that Ren had prowled the clear spring night craving to find the saint emperor's enemies, he was not a skilled hunter by any standard; the may-have-been knight's status as a spiritual cripple had deprived him of basic qualifications for such endeavors. He didn't even know what kind of being he was chasing after at this point, and he didn't expect to until he could set what passed for his eyes on it. It didn't help that whatever he was looking for had been targeting hollows; everyone in Karakura did that. The plentiful fullbringer and bount population had been one thing, but it felt like even the housepets in this town hunted hollows for sport.

He rounded a corner casually; there was no point in wearing himself down by running; all that would have done was leave him tired for the battle when, no if, he actually found the source of the night's commotion. Of course, that battle could only happen if his mark hadn't fled the living realm entirely at the first whispers of birdsong or that they'd realized something with the spiritual mass of a gillian and a prominent dark aura was following them, which was another potential failing Ren had entirely failed to consider at that time. A certain unwillingness to acknowledge things about himself was to be expected of the deluded knight. His distorted appearance, the flood's mental influence, and so many other things that really should have been worrying but weren't productive to think about anytime soon.

"Hello!? Whoever has been hoarding all the hollows around here?!" Given that Ren couldn't cloak his spiritual pressure at all, Alacrán had likely become aware of the exiled private's amateurish stalking at some point, unless, of course, they were deaf to the auras of others to a similar degree that he was. He hadn't been attempting mundane stealth either; there hadn't been any point in trying when he was the brightest object on the streets up until the sun had arrived. Liquid reishi seeped from his body to form a permanent halo, and even more coated his gradually reshaping hands that no longer passed for anything human. The glow of that reishi had illuminated his search up to this point—a personal spotlight for a young man playing the role of a knight, the radiance of a malfunctioning Vollständig, a warning light indicating an unstable soul. Like anything to do with the flood that haunted him, the light was somewhat resistant to being confined by a single definition.

That night, luck or fate had favored him, as his low-speed pursuit had remained fairly accurate thus far and left him heading directly for the hollow responsible, despite the fact that he had no way of knowing for sure. While slipping away, Alacrán would see a hooded figure in a white cloak marked with the signature pentacle of the quincy empire, crowned with a halo of rust-red reishi that mingled with the dawn-colored sunlight and sent glowing droplets falling to the sidewalk, where they promptly evaporated. The stage was set, the curtain was ready to lift at a moment's notice, and Ren looked the part for a drama of some sort.

[Alacrán]

Alacrán's heightened seismic sense sent tremors of warning through his being as the figure in the battered Vandenreich cloak drew nearer. Each footfall reverberated through the ground, a telltale sign of an approaching presence. Yet, it was Ren's voice that shattered the eerie silence, a stark interruption to the stillness that clung to the aftermath of the night's chaos.

Turning to face the unexpected intruder, Alacrán's gaze narrowed in scrutiny. The hooded figure, crowned with a halo of rust-red reishi, stood out against the backdrop of destruction like a beacon of uncertainty. Alacrán's instincts, honed by years of survival in the unforgiving world of Hollows and spiritual warfare, surged to the forefront. Though unable to sense auras in the traditional sense, the seismic disturbances reverberating through the ground provided invaluable insight, guiding Alacrán's actions in the absence of other sensory abilities.

As Ren's call echoed through the desolate streets, Alacrán braced himself for the inevitable confrontation. Though lacking the ability to sense auras during battle, Alacrán's instincts remained sharp, alerting him to the potential threat Ren posed. For a fleeting moment, silence lingered between them, the tension palpable in the air. Alacrán's instincts screamed for caution, warning of the unknown variables Ren brought to the encounter. Yet, curiosity gnawed at his resolve. What drove this hooded figure to venture into the heart of Karakura Town, seemingly in pursuit of the some unknown quarry?

"Wha' 'bout it?" With a subtle shift in stance, Alacrán prepared to face whatever challenge Ren presented. His instincts hummed with anticipation, mapping out the subtle shifts in Ren's movements as he squared his shoulders and met Ren's gaze head-on.

[Ren Akasawa]

Ren threw his cloak open to reveal a body that was quite literally melting in slow motion. It started at the hands, each seemingly made from the same material as his halo, with a dark pentacle floating just below the radiant surface inside each palm and fingers that came to subtle points. From the wrist on, each radiant arm contained similar shadowy circuit-veins until it abruptly ended in untransformed spiritual flesh just before the shoulder. The would-be knight's bare chest was unchanged, save for lines of red light seemingly etched directly into his ashen skin. A set of white jeans hid to what extent, if any, his legs had been altered by the flood. While a simple, sheathed uchigatana hung from the back of his belt, he hadn't reached for it.

"Have you heard? The saint emperor's mercy is such that should any of the dead earn his blessing, they can be restored to living flesh as a quincy. I sought hollows to sacrifice upon his altar that I might earn that boon, figured the shinigami responsible for tonight's shortage would be worth even more." He opened with a rapid-fire speech that made his affiliation and goals clear. It was the kind of threat display that would quickly clarify if the situation developed into an exchange of words or an exchange of blows. Either was fine in his mind, so he waited to see how Alacrán reacted to his appearance and beliefs.

A big part of the openness to talking things out had been that in Ren's understanding of the emperor's offer of conversion, not even shinigami were beyond salvation so long as they renounced their path and adopted quincy beliefs and lifestyles. Arrancar received that same mercy, and through them, hollows could be spared if they refrained from preying upon the living. In all the realms on this side of hell's gate, the only beings that needed to be stamped out were the truly vile and inhuman spirits, such as mod-souls and the beasts of heaven. And so far as he could tell, the dark-skinned man wasn't either of those things; therefore, he had to extend that offer to them and, of course, provide the time to consider it as long as they didn't attack first.

Meanwhile, blood drive had begun to analyze Alacrán, its insubstantial gaze undetectable to the hollow due to their lack of traditional energy senses combined with a total lack of meaningful output on the flood's part. There were no visual or audible cues, no physical or spiritual manifestations. It barely existed at all; it merely swam in the thin layer of reiatsu that bled off of Ren and observed whatever came within range. Unlike the stranger who lacked the senses to notice, Ren was constantly aware of blood drive's presence—the way it clung to him and never let go, the way it stared wild-eyed at anyone and everyone in search of something it clearly hadn't seen in him, the way it had altered his form. He doubted tonight's stranger would be the one to finally satisfy the flood's longing for whatever it so clearly wanted.

[Alacrán]

Alacrán's gaze narrowed as Ren threw open his cloak, revealing a body in the midst of a grotesque transformation. Each limb seemed to melt into a radiant substance, adorned with intricate markings that pulsed with dark energy. It was a sight both fascinating and unsettling, a testament to the depths of spiritual manipulation at play. Alacrán's eyes landed on the sword hanging from Ren's waist. While this being hadn't reached for it yet, it was clear from the display that they were letting Alacrán see that they were not unarmed.

Ren's rapid-fire speech cut through the silence, laying bare his affiliation and goals with chilling clarity. His words carried the weight of conviction, a threat veiled within the guise of dialogue. Alacrán simply smirked in response to this. If they thought that little sword was going to protect them, then Alacrán was eager to test it for them. However, something else they had said bothered him.

The notion of seeking hollows as sacrifices to earn favor with the saint emperor sent waves of anger through Alacrán's being. It was a twisted pursuit of power, one that resonated with the darker aspects of Alacrán's own nature. Still in Alacrán's mind, only Hollows shall benefit from the sacrificing of other Hollows.

"Weren't no shi'igami 'ere tonig'. Jus' me." Alacrán stared hard at this being, as if challenging him to try and claim whatever he came here seeking. Whoever this Saint Emperor was, they'd have to go tonight without their sacrifice, at least as far as Alacrán was concerned. He had no intentions on being killed here or any time in the near future.

[Ren Akasawa]

Given more time to see the way the stranger was dressed and hear just a bit of their speech, he had accepted that they were not, in fact, any type of shinigami. That ruined his initial plan to hunt down a reaper as a substitution for any hollows. More than that, he couldn't see any indication that this stranger was anything other than a common human. Well, he assumed a fellow quincy would have a stronger reaction to his message of the emperor's mercy. And bounts were super rare, so... Yeah, a human seemed like the safe bet to make at the time. His plans sank under the turbulent surface of his mind and rapidly ceased to exist. Couldn't be helped.

Whatever shallow hostility Ren had left evaporated then and there, leaving them visibly less energetic as a mild disappointment set in. He didn't see enough potential value in what was probably just a fullbringer enough to start a fight at five AM. And besides that, the living weren't for cutting down and adding to his road to Silbern; they were for preaching to in hopes they would start building their own roads towards the same destination. The saint emperor was like the sun in his mind; everything that lived should ultimately be drawn in by their gravity and find shelter in the cold, dark comfort of their icy fortresses.

"I have no reason to fight someone who still wears their original flesh and blood. My enemies are hollows that prey on the living, shinigami who refuse to renounce their incorrect path, false-soul pills hiding in mechanical puppet corpses, the beasts of heaven, and escaped prisoners of hell. Just remember, should you die, that the miracle of resurrection is open to all who seek a place among the Vandenreich." He continued to speak casually, having clearly lost interest in any potential threats being exchanged. His interest in the stranger had shifted to aspects other than combat for the moment. "But enough of that. What drives you to pursue hollows? Surely they can't all have been self-defense."

While Ren waited for a reply to his question, the flood that swam in his thinly spread reiatsu continued to observe Alacrán with intense interest while still having no physical or spiritual effect whatsoever. Its desperate craving and total blindness to the types of souls it was actually interacting with ensured that it would never turn down an opportunity to search for its mysterious goal. Its sluggish reaction time prevented most attempts it made to perceive others from reaching the critical point. Long inured to blood drive's behavior, the failure had tuned out every aspect save for the feeling of its progression along the activation ritual. Still have plenty of time.