Sweet Release

[Lagos Oscuras]

Thread Title: Sweet Release [R, NDE]
Participants: Kazuhiko, Lagos Oscuras
World: Hueco Mundo
Death Setting: Non Death Enabled
Rating: R
Location: The desert sands of Hueco Mundo with its rolling dunes of sand underneath a seeming infinite night sky. This is a land that is home to many Hollows of many types and kinds, often those that seek to consume one another in the pursuit of higher evolution and to sate their endless hunger.
Special Conditions: N/A
Circumstances: In this instance, Kazuhiko of which has been left stranded in the dark desert under the threat of starvation, thirst, and other adversities has been on the cusp of awakening something in the face of horrid adversity. Though unfortunately, he has seemingly run into Lagos Oscuras on her quest to find Hollows of which to subjugate as an acting warlord.

[Lagos Oscuras]

The desert sands of Hueco Mundo were a dark and depressing place, often filled with perilous dangers for Hollows and Arrancar alike. Weaker Arrancar could still easily find themselves subject prey to powerful Hollows, and at times, the threat of the infinite unknown was more terrifying than the threats that were. There was no telling what lay beyond the infinite horizon as the night was eternal here. Only under Las Noches was there an artificial sky, light, and a sun that bathed over the area. Only there was there some semblance of "order" if one could call it that.

Though. It was when Lagos heard that a Shinigami had come to Hueco Mundo, inching closer to her own territory that she had intervened. Stepping forward, the silver haired Espada looked outwards with her ice blue eyes. They were slitted, as if like a fox, scanning the horizon for the semblance of prey. In truth, she did not seem physically impressive, standing a mere 5'4", most of her physical traits hidden behind a large white and black trenchcoat of which looked heavy upon her person. She came with stylish white pants that kissed her frame. One could say Lagos looked attractive.

Which she was. Her face was a pale white, unblemished, and her hair shined like the moonlight itself. As she came closer, a katana rest by her side. An arctic blue and white handle within an inverted white and black sheath. It was a long blade, nearly four feet long, making it slightly longer than the average Katana blade. As she stepped forth through the sandy dune, a slight breeze blew through her hair. Her spiritual energy was rather repressed, dull, as if to not give away the game. The necklace she wore with the pendant for "dog" on it was present, a constant reminder of what she was.

The disdain. The woe. 

Now then...

"Shinigami." She sounded the word off her tongue with a level of disgust. How she remembered how they sought to slay her, how they oppressed her very existence, and those of her comrades. Shikihitsuko. She seemed awfully relaxed, her arms crossed over her chest as she neared closer. Her eyes scanned the horizon for a view of the dark robes. Her senses honed, her instincts sharp. The fox skull on her head with dots of blue along the top with gold along the ears pronounced the mask as it looked to be smiling, if not preparing to laugh with its crooked maw. 

Her face looked indifferent, but the level of contempt she felt. How long had it been since she had a good punching bag she wondered? Too long. 

SPOILER: Click to show

Stats:

Strength:300

Speed:400

Spiritual Pressure:400x1.5=600

Reiatsu Strength:400x1.5=600

Light Aura:50

Dark Aura:50

Instinct:235x.65=152

Senses:165x.65=107

Energy Sensory:0

Wound Expertise:0



Total:1900







Skills:

Analyzing:2

Learning:2

Weapons*:2[Swords]

Martial Arts*:2 [Brawling]

Battle Analysis:2

Pain Tolerance:3

Damage Recovery:2

Acrobatics:1

16/16 SKP

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

It felt like he had been away from Soul Society for months... In reality, it had only been a little over a week and a half. And he'd spent the last three days pushing through the deserts of Hueco Mundo.

During this time, however, he had lived under the oppression of a constant survival game. He'd been placed within the halls of Las Noches by Rizer Tile, an affiliate of Las Noches as a means of mining him for information. He'd given none, save for a boast. At the time it was brave. But as time had stretched on and his hunger had grown deeper, it was beginning to feel more and more foolish.

He had been constantly fleeing from hollows, unaware of Rizer's supposed protections. Those that were too bestial to think had nipped at his heels at all turns. The only peace he'd gotten was when he'd found an especially good hiding spot. But even that couldn't last... He needed to escape. He needed to get back to Soul Society before Fuuko came after him... He remembered now how they'd died. He'd relived it more and more vividly. His exhaustion had weakened his grasp on reality and he had relived it, vividly, many times. She'd kill herself to get him back if she had to...

SPOILER: Click to show

{Kazuhiko}

The experience had worn on the small boy. He was far from intimidating at only five foot two. But now his scrawny frame was looking even barer. His dark skin was pallid and dry. His golden blonde hair was a mess and getting closer to white from all of the alabaster sand that had blown in it. His glasses were gone entirely now. He'd been left with only a single lens for a few days but had even broken this in order to have access to something to cut with. A farce, given the giant Zanpaktou upon his hip.

This weapon, unlike the rest of him, was completely intact. The sheathe was dusty, but otherwise in fine repair. Scuffed, but none the worse for wear. He'd yet to draw it since getting to Hueco Mundo. Instead, he was using it as a walking stick. Driving it into the sands of the desert to help him scale especially treacherous mounds... Or simply to be an additional brace for his weary body.

Unlike his sword, however, the rest of his vestments were in tatters. The oversized robes were tattered. Only his white robes remained. He'd cut up his black robes to fashion bandages or to us as kindling. His sleeves fully covered up his arms and hands and came down past his hips, like that of a Chinese ghost. His right sleeve looked far less full than the left one. The edges of both of them were frayed. His feet were bare. He'd lost one of his sandals in a chase and had deconstructed the other for the valuable hemp string it was made of.

Everything in Hueco Mundo, like Soul Society, was made of Reishi. This was the only reason he was even still alive. But Hueco Mundo, unlike Las Noches, was made of far less dense material. After only a few days he was feeling far more exhausted than all of the days he'd spent in the great fortress combined. But there had to be a way out somewhere... Right?

[Lagos Oscuras]

When she had heard of the Shinigami, frankly, she wouldn't have cared, if not for the fact it was so close to her territory. Frankly, with the amount of wild hollows that lingered in the depths of Las Noches, she had figured that the reaper would have been devoured already. Perhaps had fallen to starvation or thirst. Because yes, while the depths of Hueco Mundo was at its nature a spiritual realm, a reaper couldn't survive on it alone. As far as she knew. So. As she advanced, it was no small surprise that she would come to find very human like footsteps. With the tracks through the dunes, she arrived.

She didn't say anything as she followed behind him. Instead, she simply let her spiritual pressure bathe and wash over the area. A weight would bear down and seemingly shake the ground and sky, as she flexed her spiritual power. If he turned to face the fox, she rests her left hand along the hilt of her sword, shifting it back and forth like a lever at the side of her waist as she gazes upon the unimpressive specimen. "Is this it?" Lagos sounded rather disappointed. He was not what she had envisioned.

"To think you've evaded all the challenges that live within here. I applaud you." Outstretching her arms to either side, spreading them out past her chest, her hands and fingertips pointed to the sky, she raises her shoulders in a shrug. "Though I'm afraid your run. Has come to an end." She seemed to feel no immediate threat from the Shinigami before her. She felt no sense of dread. Her frustrations tempered, thinking about the incompetence of her subordinates. Disgusting.

"Surrender." Relaxing her arms, she brings her left hand towards her waist, leaving the other level with her stomach in a flourished fold. "You don't want to know what happens. If you refuse." Her eyes communicated the seriousness of her warning. She did not flare her spiritual abilities to the farthest extent they could, as she wanted him to guess, to agonize, to fear, and to feel despair upon seeing what she truly was.

Her true strength and power. Lagos Oscuras was more than a simple Arrancar here to intercept him. She was a sadist. She was a powerful combatant. She was one of Kouhai's ten Espada, and what more, she was Rapture. She was both the cleansing and the feeling of pleasure. She was hedonism and yet divinity. The real question was what this Kazuhiko would do in the face of such a walking phenomena. If he would embrace it with open arms, or resist against all she was. 

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

Everything ached as he walked. Slow, hobbling steps had been pulling him through the sands for what felt like years now. But thankfully the deserts of Hueco Mundo had been much less populated than the halls of Las Noches. Kazuhiko had been "gifted" with immense spiritual pressure. It was too great for him to control at this point in his growth... Or perhaps ever. It leaked out of him and had baited the air for the beasts that had pursued him. But the wide open space of the desert had allowed him some privacy in his escape. Or perhaps he had just gotten so weak that his reiatsu was that much harder to sense.

But just as he had gotten the chance to get comfortable with that bit of solace, he felt a weight upon him. The air grew thick, to the point of choking him. His bent knees locked mid-step. And the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He wasn't aware of the origin of this bad omen, but he knew that it tasted like bile in the back of his throat. Malice.

He closed his eyes. Steeling himself. What would this one take from him? ...It didn't matter. He couldn't stop here... He had to keep going. Every minute longer he spent away from Soul Society was a minute that his sister would be trying to get out here. He needed to make it home and tell her he was alright. That there was no need to throw herself into the abyss just for the chance to pass him on the way down. He drew in a deep breath. Opened his eyes. And turned to face her.

As he turned to face her, his left hand rested atop the hilt of his own Zanpaktou. His stance was an exhausted parody of Lagos's own posture. Hers was at her waist. Ready to be drawn. A weapon eager to sink its' teeth into the prey she'd found. But Kazuhikou's overly large weapon was pushed into the sand. The hand atop it was being used to keep himself stable. A cane rather than a sword.

"I don't want to fight... But I can't stop here..." He spoke as he looked up at the woman who'd found him. He was afraid. But he'd been afraid for weeks now. In a way, the fear was a comforting replacement for the uncertainty and anxiety of the lonely walk through the desert. But his voice didn't tremble. And it lacked the trembling that one might expect from a scared little mouse who'd been cornered by the cat.

He heard it in her words. She wasn't here to help. He could see it in her posture. She wanted him to refuse. She was playing with her food. And yet. He offered her the best lazy, malnourished smile. "I need help getting home... To Soul Society. Would you please help me?" It wasn't bravery that shielded him from the paralyzing effects of terror... But hope. He didn't judge her for her hunger. Nor did he presume her bad intentions would lead to bad actions. He believed every being had the ability to do good. To make benevolent choices. He believed in monsters. But he didn't believe anyone was beyond redemption. And he hoped that this was the case with the sudden appearance of this woman who looked equally elegant and dangerous.

SPOILER: Click to show

{stats}Stats: Before Type|After Type

Strength: 90

Speed: 150

Riatsu Strength: 25

Spiritual Pressure: 400/600

Instinct: 100

Senses: 25

Energy Sense: 0

Light Aura: 100

Dark Aura: 0

Healing Expertise: 50

Skills 15/15

Abilities
Analyzing: 1

Lack of Fear: 2

Battle Analysis: 2

Martial Arts: Boxing: 2

Pain Tolerence: 1

Bleeding Tolerence: 1

Mental Incantation: 1

Damage Recovery: 2

Charisma/Leadership: 2

[Lagos Oscuras]

In truth. His refusal filled her with a level of glee. When he refused her, she could see his tired expression, the drained exasperation, and in a sense, she was pleased by his seeming meek demeanor. His weakness. After all. She had lived an entire lifetime, tormented, isolated, alone, and going through a gnawing loneliness and despair that couldn't be quelled. Even now, she suffered in some ways. So what greater pleasure could there be other than shattering others? That was Rapture. Joy. Joy in transcendence of exquisite agony. 

"I see." For her pleasure, she hid it well in her face, as she vanished at nearly impossible speeds. Though. The real confusion was not at the speed that she traveled, but instead, the notion that there was no sound. No disturbance of the earth. It was as if she were a mirage, as if she was never there, as she utilized the power of Sin Sonido. Muffled. It was a level of speed that she was proud of. Though she knew she was not the fastest of the Espada. Nor the strongest.

In the next instant, Lagos appears behind Kazuhiko, before a hand reaches out, resting atop his cane, and one would imagine, atop his hand, leaving her hand resting atop his. Before she leans inwards. Ever so slowly. Looping her left arm around his shoulder, and then around his neck in a seeming "friendly" motion. As if they were two coworkers after a long day at the office. Before she then locks her hand on top and over his in an inverted lock of fingers. Looking to lift his hand off his cane, leaving it embedded in the sand. 

"Why. But of course I'll help you~" She said in a slow and sultry tone. As if reassuring him. "I'll send you to where you need to go." The softness of her against him was likely comforting for but a moment. The comfort of a woman in the infinite darkness. Only for her to then shift. To rip his body free in an incredibly violent motion, and to quite literally hurl him like a ragdoll. Wrenching and twisting his body, she would attempt to hurl him like a human bullet. Potentially pulling his arm from the socket, where if she was successful, he would travel.

Far would he travel, ripping and bouncing across the sand and skidding a far distance away from her. Where she would take the seeming cripple's cane and raise it for herself, gazing upon it, its simple, and yet deceptive form. It was here she'd crane her neck, an almost demented smile upon her face, her fangs bared and yet  delighted, making her look almost demonically bestial as she leaned atop his cane. 

SPOILER: Click to show

Technique Name: Sin Sonido



Class: 4



Technique Type: Hollow/Arrancar



Technique Element: None



Technique Description and Effects:

Sin Sonido is the next stage of Sonido evolution, which was developed by Marcelius after countless examination of spirtual particles resisting the flow of spiritual beings through Hueco Mundo's dense atmosphere. Using the principles of Reiatsu-infused movements, introduced by Sonido, this technique uses a larger supply of Reiatsu to enhance every aspect of it's predecessor. Not only does the Reiatsu used allow for faster travel, but it also reduces all drag and impedance of spiritual particle resistance. Where Sonido filled the muscles with energy needed to heighten the user's speed, Sin Sonido additionally coats the user in Reiatsu. With this internal and external building of Reiatsu, the user will figuratively meld with the world around them as they burst with sudden speed. The density of the surrounding particles is of no consequence, as this technique was designed for Hueco Mundo's tremendously dense environment. The same density that forced Arrancar to improve Sonido's design over the Shinigami Shunpo has further enhanced this technique to a higher quality. In atmospheres with less density in spiritual particles, the task is all the simpler to accomplish and control.



The result is a reduced spiritual resistances means less of a footprint. It is possible for masters of Sin Sonido to travel so suddenly and so flawlessly, that they simply materialize at their intended destination. Even wild animals cannot interpret such a flawless transition. After all, this is a Predator's tool. Sin Sonido has also prove more difficult to react against, this is a forced psychological effect due to the techniques bizarre, traceless nature. Truly, this is a most fearsome technique... but is only recommended for practitioners of considerable skill. Once a soul can learn to use it with maturity, a Sonido without sound can prove a most deadly addition to an arsenal.



Sin Sonido increases the user's speed by x10. Observers with Senses beneath 400 cannot hear the beginning or completion of this technique. Observers with Senses of 400 or greater can detect the signature Sonido noise. Observers with Instincts beneath 200 cannot track the movement or arrival of this technique, though they may still prepare counters. Observers with Instincts of 200 and above are unaffected.



How to use technique: Using Sin Sonido is exactly the same as using Sonido.



Technique Drawbacks



The user of this technique must have Sonido mastered. Sin Sonido moves slower than typical Sonido, to avoid unnecessary noise Sin Sonido also costs more Reiatsu than typical Sonido to accommodate the atmospheric blending.



Cost: 150 Reiatsu



Made By: Marcelius Despres



Reserved: No

Stats:

SPOILER: Click to show

Reiatsu Remaining: 5850/6000

-150 Sin Sonido.


Strength:300



Speed:400



Spiritual Pressure:400x1.5=600



Reiatsu Strength:400x1.5=600



Light Aura:50



Dark Aura:50



Instinct:235x.65=152



Senses:165x.65=107



Energy Sensory:0



Wound Expertise:0







Total:1900

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

The woman had been in front of him just a moment ago, he swore it. But she'd moved so fast that he'd been left questioning his own memory. It was only the dull resonating touch of her hand atop his that kept him grounded in reality. It was an unfamiliar enough sensation in the past weeks that he knew it was new. Perhaps she'd moved in between blinks of his eyes? No... His attention had been glued to her. Like a deer in headlights, he hadn't dared to look away.

Her arm looped about him. Ensnaring him and pinning him against her. It wasn't forceful. He wasn't bound. It was far more daunting than that. He was trapped. The forearm that was in front of him was as impenetrable as the wrought iron bars of a sixth-division holding cell. The hand atop his own like shackles. He shuddered against her. A shiver inspired by the cold touch of death. There should have been no doubt in his mind as to the nature of their embrace. Her presence loomed over him like the blade of a guillotine.

"I'm not your enemy..." He put his everything into maintaining a calmness to his voice. As if trying not to agitate an animal that was already tense and ready to pounce. Even as her fingers clasped through his. Her grip closed about his digits like the teeth on an iron trap. He didn't resist. But he'd never had the chance to, nor would it have mattered if he had. His hand was lifted easily off of the grip of his still-sheathed weapon. The great nodachi remained embedded in the sand. And once again, it remained undrawn. And without another arm to take hold of it, it remained far out of his reach.

He was right. He wasn't her enemy. And she knew that too.

He was her prey.

What followed next was an act of cat-like cruelty. She had the one-armed boy in her grasp. Fangs bared, she could have torn out his throat! "Please. We don't have to hurt each other!" His calmness had left him. He was naive and optimistic, and a little eager... But he wasn't daft. There was no doubt in his mind now as to whether or not a battle was about to ensue. The only question that remained was whether or not he would even be capable of fighting it!

Her body torqued. Impossibly strong, she unearthed him like a weed! Her elbow extended, sending him behind her, waving like a malnourished flag! Then, as his body was fully extended, she ripped him back in the other direction! There was a sickening sound. Like someone enthusiastically snapping a carrot in half! It was so loud that it drowned out his shrill and agonized scream! And a moment later he was gone from her grasp!

The force with which she'd released him sent him skidding across the desert like a stone atop the surface of a lake! Though with far less grace! He was a tangle of arm and legs as he rolled along the porcelain white landscape! The malleable surface absorbed his momentum, building into a mound until it could take no more and sent him bouncing skyward and crashing back down again. Each impact was punctuated by another grunt as the harsh landing sequentially blasted more and more air from his lungs. This occurred what seemed like four times but felt like four hundred. When he finally came to a stop it was within a castle of sand that conformed to the shape of his body.

The castle collapsed and the weight led to the hill he'd been embedded in sending him rolling downward in a landslide. When he finally came to a stop he was gasping and coughing. Saliva and sand both fell from his already dry lips as his dim eyes grew dimmer from what was sure to be a concussion. He tried to move his arm to wipe his mouth, but it hung useless and contorted at his side, the back of his hand unnaturally dragging along the sand. His shoulder had been dislocated from the harsh torque. Without the support of it's socket, it was likely broken as well... Adrenaline kept him from feeling the white-hot pain. At least for the moment.

Without a hand to help him up he could only make it to his knees. But he did so in haste! His eyes were wide and wild as he searched for the force of nature that had just sent him flying. How far had he been thrown? Where was she? What about his zanpakutou!? He hadn't drawn it against a single hollow since the one he had slain alongside his squad. And even then, he'd only done so to reflect light in its eyes. "W-where?" What good was a sword without a blade? He was learning now, that even that useless mockery of a weapon had meaning. For without it he felt exposed as if his belly had already been ripped wide open!

He took deep, panting breaths. His eyes dilated. But he bit hard on his lip and focused on his training as a medic. He was in shock. From his injuries. He couldn't feel his fingertips. He bit down harder, drawing blood. But the sharp, self-inflicted pain helped him focus. He couldn't stop here... One foot planted first. And then the other. His slender figure rose to its full posture. The desert wind howled, ominously causing his ragged garments to flap under its influence. His ruined left arm hung at his side, pinning his sleeve to his hip. While his right sleeve, empty, blew in the wind. Making it ever more obvious that he was a one-armed man.

[Lagos Oscuras]

It was rather cute, but also equal parts disgusting when he said that he wasn't her enemy. That sounded borderline preposterous. Though yes, his assessment was right. He was her play thing at best. Then he was sent flying like a stone. With the roaring power she exuded, he found himself bouncing, skipping, and rolling into a dune of sand that acted as the castle. Though. As he rose, looking to get his bearings through the feeling of adrenaline and terror?

He'd not need to worry very long about his sword. She took the nodachi in her own hands, feeling its length, and the curve along her fingers, slowly sliding her index finger along its length. In truth, she was somewhat surprised, but not displeased to see him rise almost immediately. Lagos spotted him. Like a blip in the distance, as she slowly holds the blade's scabbard in her hands. Her eyes squinted as she eyed him in the distance. He was well over a hundred feet away she imagined, considering she angled him to slap the sandy ground.

"I suppose I should...return this." She gave a low underlying chuckle for a moment. Her left hand rising to her face, caressing her arm, as she drags her right foot back along the sand through her heavy boots. Before long, she takes a short running start, as her right hand clenches, her left hand lowering to be her guiding marker. "Huph!" Utilizing the technique Sonido Gaara, her arm whips at an obscene speed as she hurls Kazuhiko's own sword at him at breakneck speeds.

He would likely find himself noticing this though almost immediately, if only for the fact that a small vacuum had formed in the path of the projectile, as a cracking sound bursts through the air as it breaks the sound barrier, looking to slam Kazuhiko at the base of the spine, though likely to fall short and hit his tailbone instead assuming he was unable to get out of the way. This was more of an entertaining little thing for her. She seemed to enjoy his panic and panting breaths. As she sought to get closer to him.

Not in a burst of speed as she did previously, but instead, at an average brisk walking pace. Because there was no escape for him. There was a sense of impending doom, because that was exactly what she was. She was rapture, and she would help him transcend to a new state. The weapon he held of which was his comfort would mean little without the strength or ambition to use it. A weapon was merely but a tool. Only the wielder or practitioner could guide its sharp edge, its lethality. A weapon was meant to be dangerous, and the skill of the holder was its temperance. If only Kazuhiko knew that.

Step after step, she flexed her throwing arm, moving gradually closer. "Come now. Surely. You can entertain me? No?~" She had a small and cordial curl upwards of the lips, in a tone that sounded too singsong like. Too melodic and sweet for the acts she was about to do on this poor soul. "Do I need to go harder on you?" She asked rhetorically, fancying the idea, but figured. She'd allow for him to react. Perhaps he'd try to run? Or beg? Or fight? Oh. She was delighted!

SPOILER: Click to show

Reiatsu Remaining:

5700/6000

-150 Sonido Gaara


Technique Name: [Sonido Garra]



Class: [4]



Technique Type: [Arrancar Technique]



Technique Element: [None]



Technique Description and Effects:



The Shinigami have a technique called Shunpo Karin, which increases the speed of one of their limbs for one movement with an enhanced Shunpo. In other words, they get a 10x speed boost for one arm or leg movement. Oftentimes, Arrancar took unnecessary damage against sword strikes from that technique. To counter it, they created something new.



Sonido Garra is a partial Sonido technique which enhances a single limb's movement for one single movement with a Sonido. In other words, for one movement, either a leg or arm can use Sonido to speed up. 13x is the speed boost associated with Sonido Garra.



How to use technique:



Activate the technique. Unlike Sonido, which costs 100 reiatsu to activate, Sonido Garra costs 150 reiatsu every time one wishes to use it. It can only be used once per post.



Technique Drawbacks



Reiatsu cost. Continued uses also cause strain to the user's arm. Usable by Arrancar only.



Made By: [Kuroi Naito]

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

He heard the whistling long before he ever saw it coming his way. It approached with an ominous whistling that split the wind. The initial throw of the weapon created a sonic boom, and without it, he wouldn't have even known which direction to look. His blue eyes narrowed at the approaching projectile. Even in plain sight, he couldn't identify it... Its rotations made it identifiable only as a whirring black disc. It wasn't because he lacked his glasses. But the concussion might have contributed to his slowed processing.

Regardless of its identity, Kazuhiko knew that staying accepting the missile weapon where it was intended to land would spell death. His arm could barely move, and when it did it was with the sickening click of its dislocation. He'd not be catching anything. And so he only had one option. "Uwaaaah!!!" He screamed out in panic, and jumped! He threw his body to the right, and the weapon crashed into the sand near him! It did so with a great crash and a geyser of sand! Kazuhiko landed heavily on his... Well, it was hard to say which shoulder was his good shoulder now. But the one that lacked an arm attached to it.

He winced and coughed as he choked on the sand that had been scattered into the air. He was once again on his knees, but he was confident he could make it to his feet quicker this time... And he'd need to! As approaching from the same direction as the attack, was his pursuer. Slow and methodical, she was practically sauntering in his direction. Death, was casually walking towards him. Wild eyed he looked for a way out... And what he found was the path he'd refused to take ever since stepping into Las Noches. His Zanpakutou, which was buried in the sand in front of him.

The scabbard was fully hidden beneath the ground. The handguard was just barely above the surface. But the hilt jutted out proudly. Like the fabled Sword in the Stone. His eyes moved from it, to Lagos, and back to it. And then he laughed. What else could he do? A grim, cynical sound pushed past the normally optimistic and energetic boy's lips. The first time he thought to draw his sword, and he didn't have a working arm to swing it with. He had to laugh... Because he was powerless to do anything else.

'Korrra![HEY!] What's funny, Wakashu [Boy]?'

Kazuhiko's laugher stopped immediately. His eyes searched for his pursuer. And heard her voice. "Ahhn~" He wanted to answer, but all that came past his lips was a panicked sound. Half fear. Half confusion. Her voice was much different from the one he'd heard.

'She wants you to run.' The voice was distant. A rumbling growl that sounded like an approaching thunderstorm, but was still many miles away. 'Is that your ambition?' Kazuhiko's eyes searched desperately for the sword as Lagos drew ever nearer. Her playful chiding clashed with the mysterious and disembodied voice. It helped him to locate it's origin. It was coming from between them.

'Do you intend to simply die tired?' It asked again. No longer distant. But over him. Striking like lightning as his limply hanging hand hung above the fabled Sword in the Sand. "No! I'm not just going to die!" He answered the gravelly voice back. Though as far as Lagos was aware, those words were directed towards her.

[Lagos Oscuras]

Resting in place, looking onwards at the now rising cloud of dust and sand, she was quickly losing her attention. They were playing a game of cat and mouse, but the mouse when cornered seemed to have no bite. Seemed to be disoriented and half dead already. They were starting to lose the thrill of the game. He coughed and sputtered, saying that he had no intention of death. Yet, she did come to question how it was he intended that. He seemed too weak to be a seated officer. Though he dripped spiritual pressure and energy.

"I understand now. How you've made it so long. You've run away. Didn't you? From every fight?~" She gave a very vibrant smile. Before slowly leaning her head back, supported by her free hand. "Like a coward." That much, she felt for sure. After all, he seemed to not have a single bit of fire or violence within him. He dared to call her a friend for goodness sake. In what world? It sounded absurd. He sounded deluded!

"I wonder~ Just how many comrades you've left to die. By a Hollow's hands. How many people you've wronged. The feeling of their despair. How many times you've tried to beg. Or reason. As the weak do. Though. I suppose you are a disgusting little thing. I don't detest the weak so much. As even the weak have their uses. Their place. Though. You. You. You don't even try. You writhe and squirm like a maggot." She remained solemnly in place. "How gross."

"You're quite the auspicious hunt I suppose. It'd be a shame to watch you die like a dog." It was a dog eat dog society though, and she imagined that he would prove to be an excellent spiritual meal, likely not for herself, but some of her favored fraccion potentials perhaps. It was within that next moment or so, she'd channel her spiritual energy, balling it up in her fist, as it radiated a sickly yellow color. Before then, she'd lash out and punch towards the poor man. A booming whistle.

He could see the sand part and quite literally seemingly displace in a violent explosion in his path as the ball of yellow came ramming towards him. It moved fast. Stupidly fast. What more, with Lagos' spiritual power, it was as large as a truck. It came down, bearing upon him, threatening to crush him and leave him a mangled mass if he didn't get out of the way, block, defend himself. Though. In truth, Lagos really used it more as a distraction. To push her assault as she blitzed towards him, looking to intercept whatever direction he fled.

Utilizing her acrobatics, she'd dexterously throw her body in a high crescent kick, attempting to slam Kazuhiko's stomach with her iron hard leg, her body grounded and planted to the floor, looking to knock the wind out of him, her strength restrained as to avoid killing him right away. Assuming she succeeded, and his body involuntarily keeled and bent over her leg, she'd push him back upwards, only to deliver a furious flurry of kicks towards his body, his arm, his chest, and body. Looking to barrage him ceaselessly, before delivering a side kick for his knee, to bring him down.

She looked on with a seeming disgust, before looking to finish it with a knee to the chin, to send him flying backwards on his back. She knew Shinigami were durable, and so she doubted she killed him, or so she hoped, as the final kick might have sent him flying back some dozen feet as his body collapses to the sand. 

SPOILER: Click to show

5650/6000


-50 Bala

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

Kazuhiko's fingers twitched against the hilt of his buried Zanpakutou. Lagos, his mysterious pursuer, was watching him from some distance away. And despite a great deal of space between them, their eyes could meet. With nothing but the wind between them, her words carried. Her words sent a chill down his spine. In some ways, she was right... He'd avoided drawing his weapon with all of his heart. He'd only ever swung it in practice, and even then it was half-hearted.

"I..." What could he say? Ever since coming to Las Noches he -had- run from every fight. A trickle of sweat ran from his hairline down his cheek. It was darkened with the dirt and grime that coated his face by the time it reached his chin. It fell onto the snow-white sand upon which he knelt, staining it. 'You what, Wakashu? Is she right?'. That disembodied, gravelly voice joined in.

"No!" He spat the rejection out. His fingers clutched the hilt of the Zanpaktou so hard that it pulled on his dislocated shoulder and caused him to let out a gasp of pain. "You're wrong!" His brow knit in the closest thing she'd seen to anger from him. The closest thing to anger he'd shown anyone in a long time. Perhaps it was because something in her accusation resonated in him once again. He had bargained and reasoned. He'd groveled. Even his presence here was the result of a bargain...

But then he recalled the circumstances of that bargain. "I'd never leave anyone to die! There's nothing wrong with being weak if it saves lives!" He shouted back at her defiantly. His life for the lives of those in the 80th district of North Rukongai. His life, one worth more in the eyes of any tactician, for the meaningless lives of the poor in an already shattered district.

'That's right, Wakashu! You can hear it now, can't you?' And he could see it too. It was but a flash... The muzzle of a lion.

The color drained from his face! What gathered on the end of her fist was energy the color of bile! A malicious convergence of her violent intent! She launched it at him with a punch, and its speed was surpassed only by her own vanishing act earlier in the confrontation! The landscape itself parted in the wake of the vicious-looking projectile! His feet shifted in the sand. Every muscle in his body, even his toes tensed. But he didn't move! As the bala got closer it was clear that it was gigantic. The size of one of the ruined hovels in the 80th district! Wide-eyed he froze! And Lagos watched as the sickly yellow light illuminated the dark skin of his face! It was too close to dodge now. Time slowed down...

'Say it!'

SPOILER: Click to show

{Kazuhiko's Theme; (Flight, Yasunori Mitsuda)}

"Roar!" The sand around the boy's feet began to whirl in a clockwise direction. It spiraled upward around him in a sudden sand-storm. White light crackled within it, connecting and flowing through the various grains of sand as they surrounded him entirely! The speed of the storm accelerated until it moved so fast that nothing was visible but the blur of angelic white light. It narrowed and then shot straight toward heaven! A tower of earth and divine light that was visible to anyone as far as the eye could see! The bala met it and found no resistance, parting the sand! "HYAKUJUUNOOU!"

Something brilliant and golden exploded out of the pillar of light, dissipating it! Whatever it was, pushed straight into the heart of the bala! There was a great roar, much like a sonic boom! And sickly ball yielded to it before popping like a balloon. And then fading from existence as if it had never been at all. At the same time, the pillar of light and sand exploded outward, falling back toward the ground in a vision-obscuring cloud! But standing within it was the silhouette of the boy Lagos had meant to destroy. An inky black shadow, save for its right arm. It shined with the same brilliant white light that had filled the pillar.

"You think being able to hurt someone is what makes you strong? That I need to be able to kill before I can feel safe!?" He spoke from within the cloud of dust. His left arm still hung limply at his side... But his Zanpaktou was nowhere to be seen. And his right was pulled up in a fighting pose. This arm had been missing before their fight had ever started. Before he'd ever come to Las Noches. Before he'd ever become a Shinigami. It was made up of ornate golden plates that were connected by veins that were the luminous origin of that celestial light.

SPOILER: Click to show

{Hyakujuunoou}

"That doesn't make any sense! How can I save everyone, if I have to kill someone..." He frowned at the idea. "So I refuse!" He barked as he slashed that arm across his chest, a trail of white light flowing behind it. He thrust his fist up towards Lagos! "I'll show you what it really means to be strong! I'm going to save everyone! Even you!"

[Lagos Oscuras]

"Amazing. Amazing!~" She called out. As she felt that spiritual pressure grow, grow even more, become pronounced, she stopped her tracks. Gazing at her Bala collided with him. Clashed against his person, only to be dispelled. So. He did have some clout didn't he? He rose to the challenge, and as he released, in that brilliant golden hue, he vanquished her Bala, much like the hero rising to the terror before him. Was this perhaps the first time he had ever released against someone?

How wonderful, that she could give him his first time. Though, as the dust came to settle and pass, Lagos gazed towards him with a look of incredulous disbelief. "I laud you on your convictions. Foolish as they are." She clapped her hands a few times, as if to give him praise in such a moment. Though. Lagos then sought to point out the fallacies in his argument. Hero of justice he seemed to desire to be.

"Had it ever occurred to you the opposite? That it is because you were weak around others, that it got them killed? That they may die in the pursuit to save you? Or your lack of strength lead to such death? Foolishness? Bravado? Pride?" Lagos normally hated monologue, and rarely spoke to her victims. Yet, this one's idealisms were anathema to the very existence and lifestyle she lived. The weak were consumed. Devoured. They were eaten and consumed as to make others strong. Or turned to cunning.

She slowly rests her left hand along the hilt of her blade, the other smoothing down her chest's trench coat. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Everyone should be capable and have the means of being violent. Being capable to harm. To be dangerous. The true measure of strength is that capability, but also, the ability of restraint. Being weak on the other hand? Only leaves you at other's mercy." She began to walk closer. Step by step, more brisk now.

"You see the contradiction. Don't you? You can't save everyone. You can't yourself. And you especially can't save me." They had never shared each other's names, not once before those moments. Though. It was here as he began to flourish himself. His pride, his convictions, and his ideologies? Lagos would slowly raise a hand to the zipper along her trenchcoat, letting it loose, allowing her jacket to open to reveal her generous bust. Where most of her skin was revealed.

If it were not a life or death situation, perhaps he might have been able to enjoy the sight. Though above her left breast, there, rest a dark ink tattoo with the number nine. Surely, he'd heard of the Espada. The top ten strongest Arrancar in all of Las Noches. "Only death may pay for life. And sacrifice. Sacrifice is a necessity. Trees must be felled to build homes. Animals and plants must die for your nourishment. To save pluses, you Shinigami fell and slay Hollows. To bring justice, you condemn sinners to hell."

"Your very existence is anathema to the creed you just preached." 

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

The battle had come to a pause in the wake of his sudden release. Lagos had been airborne, intent on pouncing upon him like a mouse. But instead, she descended peacefully, landing with praise rather than violence. There was a part of the boy that resented her condescending celebration... But every other part of him ached, so he was thankful for the respite. It also gave him a chance to get used to the very alien feeling of having his arm back... His fingers flexed... His elbow bent. He felt the weight of it as it hung off of his shoulder... It was only thanks to the adrenaline that he was able to suppress the tears of joy. Life... Was truly wonderful!

Lagos approached him with interest now, rather than hunger. Much like her accusations had resonated within him, it seemed that his ideals resonated within her. She felt repulsed and challenged enough by them to justify herself. To engage in a war of words rather than fists. Kazuhiko was certain that whatever was said here would be bookended by violence. But deep in his heart, he hoped to connect with her. Any other Shinigami would call such a wish preposterous, or perhaps even treasonous... But just as not all Shinigami were good, not all Arrancar were evil. He was confident in that!

She drew nearer as she proposed his weakness was at the root of his losses. And she was right. He was a small fish in a large pond. And that pond was even further eclipsed by the ocean at large. But none of this was new to him. He'd heard it from the day he set foot in the academy. From his peers. From his instructors. His sister never said it, not out loud. But she, more than anyone else knew just how vulnerable her kid brother was. How dangerous and potentially self-destructive his ideals were.

Two things happened as she drew nearer. Once she was within 50 feet of him his perception changed. He could feel her... All of her. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The sway of her hair in the wind... Even the flutter of her eyelashes as she blinked. It wasn't the same as sight. Nor was it hearing. He hadn't noticed it before she'd gotten so close due to the barren nature of the desert around him... But now that something else was there, he experienced her in a way that he had never experienced anything before. A 6th sense!

And for Lagos, she found herself bathed in a field of positive energy. It was slight. So much so that she might not even notice. Her hunger dulled. A stiffness in her neck was easier to ignore. Even her malding was dampened just slightly... Both of these events were the result of Kazuhiko's Shikai. Among its effects was the leaking of his pure, good-natured reiatsu. It wasn't strong enough to heal wounds. But it was enough to dull their pain.

The final stage of her argument came as she began to unzip her top. She was exposing herself to him. And though he was bloody and exhausted, he couldn't help but divert his eyes for a moment. A reflexive act of innocence... One which did nothing to prevent seeing her. Like everything else... He felt her. He could trace every inch of her skin even with his eyes shut tight. The sensation caused him to turn his attention back to her with a bright red blush! But what he saw was far different from what he felt.

"N-nine!?" The word was the only thing he could manage through the shock. He knew there was a gap in strength between them. But now it became clear that it wasn't a gap at all... It was a chasm. She was amongst the elite. Another drop of sweat hit the sand and his newly attained hand trembled with comprehension of his predicament. He closed that hand in an iron-tight fist to keep it from shaking! And despite all of his best interests, he took a step towards her. His eyes locked on hers. She could see the fear in his eyes... And yet, he didn't show his back.

"You're right." He confessed. "All of my life, people around me were hurt because of my weakness. Those who loved me carried that burden. They sacrificed, so that I could live." He nodded. "And I'm grateful to every single on of them." He squared his feet with hers. He faced off with her. Not in defiance, but as an equal. Though he was fearful, she could see that he didn't hate her for it. He lacked any measure of malice in those bright blue eyes. But even more noticeable than that was something that they -did- share. Hunger. She could see the way his conviction burned brightly. His desire to impose his will on the world backlit his eyes in luminescent cerulean!

"Death is a part of life. Without it, there couldn't be a balance." He nodded again. "You're not wrong in that either." The second confession caused him to look down and frown. The remembrance of all the people he'd known who'd passed filled him with sorrow... Not just those from the living world. Or from Soul Society. But even the hollow who he'd helped to kill. He brought that golden fist up to his own heart and he held it there. "But I disagree with you about what strength is." His head slowly turned back up, his eyes finding Lagos'. "I don't think strength is the ability to be dangerous. Death and danger occur naturally. It's inevitable. From the moment we step out into the world, we're in danger. And eventually, we all die." He took another step towards her. Closing the gap until they were within arms reach of one another. It was difficult and terrifying... But he did it while holding her eyes in his the whole time. Captivating her with his sincerity.

"It isn't death I want to save the world from, Ms. Nine." He'd worn his frown like a funeral veil. But now he lifted it, his lips curling into a forlorn smile. It was warm. Welcoming her inside. It reached all the way to his eyes. If ever a more sincere look existed, one would be hard-pressed to find it. "It's pain. I don't think strength is measured by how much you can hurt. Or how dangerous you are. But rather in being able to meet that danger when it arrives. I refuse to condemn anyone... Instead, I want to heal the hurt inside of everyone!"

He reached out with his golden arm then. Open-handed with spread fingers. If she searched his eyes she would see no ill-intent. There was no trap here. But another point to be made along with his words. "I think real strength-" His arm continued to raise. His fingertips curled, seeking her. "Is compassion." He finished as he placed his hand on the side of her face in kind acceptance. If she allowed it, she would be shocked to find the way the hand felt against her skin. It didn't feel cold and cruel like a steel gauntlet should. But had a comforting warmth. The pulsating of the reiatsu within heated it not unlike the blood within the veins of his hand of flesh.

In this deathmatch, it was a most foolish and unexpected action. But Kazuhiko truly believed in his mission. And he did not want the first act he committed with his right hand to be an act of violence. Instead. It was an act of love, acceptance... And compassion.

[Lagos Oscuras]

His words. Despicable. Detestable. Abhorrent. He sought to save the world from pain. Mainly because the world he spoke of would be a meaningless one. It was through pain that people grew, and so did monsters. In truth. The idea of it was so beautiful, so unobtainable, it was disorienting to take into perspective. A world without pain. Real strength he said was compassion. Yet, he seemed to misunderstand. Misunderstand what strength was from beyond a philosophical point. Strength. Strength.

As he dared to get closer, to reach his metallic hand out to touch her in some kind of warm embrace, her jaw was actually agape. She was shocked. There was a look of surprise first. Perhaps then some feeling of solemnness, before then disgust. "Perhaps...If you had come some centuries ago. That would have been wonderful to hear. Though. You seem to not understand the weight. The weight of despair. Resentment. Of even a single soul."

Almost gingerly, she raises her left hand, to mirror his exact same motion. Her own hand gently resting her almost claw like fingers along his face. "Allow for me. To show you. Sly. Vulpecas." Her spiritual energy skyrocketed, but only for but a moment. There was no transformation he could see, but instead, her own release ended instantly upon the words she spoke. She'd show him the despair. "A portion of our pain." At first. It might feel like as if nothing happened.

As Lagos pulled back, seemingly drained, exhausted in her own right. Before then, there was an incredible feeling of aching dread. Impossible dread. A gnawing emptiness that was worse than any hunger he likely ever felt, or ever would feel. Worse than any feeling of regret, or resentment, or depression. It was all consuming. As before him, the weight would become unbearable along his heart. Before long, a literal hole would burst from his chest. Though there was no blood. Instead, a long and expansive chain would burst forth. 

It would fall to the floor with a clank, and before it, several mouths would form along it. With gaping maws filled with human teeth and starving tongues. Their voices within them were almost echoing, layered, before the chain would lash outwards. It would attempt to wrap around Kazuhiko, to bind portions of his body, as the teeth would bite into his flesh. Though instead of just the pain of teeth ripping through flesh and muscle, it'd feel like the most horrifying of burdens. The transcendent despair that would hopefully make him understand. A Hollow. Or if not...perhaps it'd leave only his clothes.

She wasn't sure. Her experiments were often varied.

Regardless. She was interested if he'd enter hollowfication. From time to time, she'd seen those that would begin to vomit the viscous white fluid that would become their masks, hiding their faces and hearts. Lagos wondered how twisted his good energy would feel. Though. She'd not bother to find out. After all. None had ever stopped the technique to its completion before. "Perhaps if you transcend. You can find me. When you've understood the horror you felt. See if your ideal stands..." 

She hoped to hear hollow screeches perhaps as she turned, to vanish off into the distance. Or perhaps he'd break his chain and be devoured by Hollows, helpless, unable to  comprehend the monstrosities that lingered before him. Perhaps from the feeling of dread, he'd take his own life before he could turn, as some might do. Regardless. There was a deep sense of satisfaction at being stimulated, and it might be an encounter she'd remember for "some" time. How wonderful. 

[Exit Thread]

SPOILER: Click to show

Technique Name: [False Rapture]


This is Lagos’ ultimate Primera Etapa attack, and allows for her to Rapture all souls who are caught within contact of her with her and her weapon. This technique is her most powerful technique, and it ends the release instantly within the moment it is cast.

Those that are touched by Lagos’ weapon and or any part of her body will find that their spiritual energy is displaced as she physically inserts Hollow/Arrancar Reirokyu into the body. It is then that it roots into the body of the host as it quickly causes the soul chain to burst from the opponent's chest and begin to try and devour the owner of the chain. This technique however ends the release immediately which is is a double edged sword and also costs costs a whopping 2000 reiatsu.

Any elements manipulated by Lagos at that moment grows erratic before blasting off in every direction. This technique is a double edged sword for a number of reasons, but is a rather interesting way to finish someone off. If they break their chain, they remain spiritually powerless to stop Lagos from killing them at that point. And if they do not break their chain, they are devoured and eaten alive leaving only their clothes.

The chain may only be sated by feeding it double the cost of Lagos’ 2000 reiatsu cost. While this isn't impossible, it is extremely hard and as a result is going to tire out her foes tremendously. Assuming that one does not have 4000 reiatsu, there is an alternative. One may shut the chain up by feeding it 1000 reiatsu for a single post, but it shall come back out from the chest until 4000 is paid. One may try to slow down the chain by placing Bakudo and such on or around it, but the Chain will have equal the amount of reiatsu strength of the one it came from.

A friend may pay the rest of the sum in case of having an ally, but the chain shall then attack that person next. Once 4000 reiatsu is paid, the chain shall seal into the being it came from. Other Arrancar, Vizards, and Hollow are immune for the chain to be sated as they are resistant to hollow energy. Quincy that are attacked with this will die from incredible painful torture as the chain eats them, or they must pay a 5000 reiatsu cost in order to survive. Vizards are immune to this technique as is anyone with a higher offensive stat or class. ]



How to use technique (How is it activated?): [Expend 2000 reiatsu before touching someone to initiate the technique.]



Technique Drawbacks (Limitations, repercussions for use, etc) (



1.Ends the Release Immediately.



2.Can be saved by a friend by paying the rest of the sum.



3.Costs 2000 Reiatsu.



4.Requires physical contact in order for it to succeed.



5.Certain races are immune.



6. Those who have a higher offensive stat and class are immune to this technique.

[Satoshi Kazuhiko]

Kazuhiko closed his eyes as his hand made contact with her face. Due to his new sixth sense it was more of a symbolic gesture and far safer than it appeared. But it also showed genuine vulnerability and trust. Beyond that, it helped him to focus on the feel of her skin. There was a softness to her that few would likely ever feel. It was a foolish thing to do. Like admiring a how clean a crocodile's teeth were before it snapped off your hand.

He wasn't sure if his words or his act had reached her. But she engaged. Speaking her own mind. Though there was anger in it, er rebuttal was also more forlorn than he expected. A bittersweet sampling of a thing that could have been, but never will be.

Even with his eyes closed he felt her reach for him. The angle wasn't an aggressive one. The speed wasn't dangerous. Much like the feel of her skin, there was an unexpected softness to her movement. Her words lacked the pageantry of her playful quips during their battle. But made up for it in grim prophecy.

And then came her words of power. They were distinctive. Forced out from her belly and with a surge of spiritual pressure! It was so great that it stopped his heart, even before anything had truly happened! His eyes shot open in shock. He'd exposed his throat, and she had fastened her metaphorical jaws around it!

"W-what did you-?" He couldn't finish getting his sentance out, his heart had jumped into his throat and blocked his airways. For a moment he felt a change in her, but it was imperceivable, even to his sixth sense! And then there was nothing but terrifying silent stillness. And within it Lagos gave him a hint of the gift she had given him!

"W-wait!" He gasped in stunned horror as she pulled back. She looked noticeably exhausted... Whatever she had done had been so powerful that it had taxed her greatly! And this only amplified the horror and anxiety of his anticipation. For the moment he was fine...

"What did you do to me-AGH!" That moment passed! And he felt his heart beat ten beats at once! It shook him to his core, his knees buckled and his teeth came together in an agonized grimace. Hunger. Actual, genuine hunger. This wasn't the lack of reiatsu that he had thought was starvation... It tied his abdomen in knots and brought him to his knees with a cry!

The twisting sensation snaked along his insides until it grasped his heart! "N-NYAAAH!!!" A scream exploded out of his throat, tearing his mouth open to set it free! He grasped at his heart with his new hand, clutching at it like a mortal having a heart attack. It felt as though it was being crushed between the talons of some great bird of prey!

And then as if grasped by a phantom, his back arched forcefully! His chest was displayed as a hole was ripped open in a shockingly sterile display. It was goreless, but terrifying none the less! A great metal chain erupted from within the hole and clanked into the sand. His Chain of Fate!

He had but a moment to watch in horror as the links the chain grew hungry little mouths. Their teeth flat. Their lips full. Human mouths. Salivating and hungry! And worse, their hunger was his. It originated from within. An all consuming desire to consume himself!

"W-wait! D-don't!-" He began to plead, reaching out for Lagos with that golden arm! But as soon as he did, his own Chain of Fate lashed itself around him! Restraining him and dragging him to the sand in a caccoon of metal and horrifically groaning mouths! They pressed tightly to him, and began to bite down! Tearing through his shihakusho and biting down upon his flesh!

It was agony. But the searing pain didn't come from his nerves. It came from his soul! Molten hot, it tore through him long before he ever made contact with the source. And his eyes closed tightly to make way for the tears that began to stream down his cheeks. He let out a sobbing scream as Lagos left!

Gasping, screaming, and writhing he cried out! He finished his plea from earlier! "DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE AGAIN!!!" He screamed out his worst, deepest, darkest fear as his heart was being consumed by thousands of hungry, gnashing teeth! A bloodless feast of physical and mental anguish!

The boy was left writhing and alone in the darkness of Hueco Mundo! Screaming and sobbing as he met a fate worse than death. A pain so severe, so horrific, it would make any man wish for it!

"AHN! NGHHH! AHHHHHHHH!!!"

[To Be Continued...]