Post by Zeich Yajuu on Aug 5, 2015 17:08:41 GMT -5
(OOC: The first 80 TP earned will convert to TTP and go towards proficiency (40) and mastery (40) of Soulbind. Any other TP will be converted into TTP to add to my bank.)
He opened his eyes, but it made no difference as he did so; darkness would remain darkness, even in the inner world of his spirit. Zeich's golden gaze stared off into the distance, unable to perceive anything, and not just because of Tsukikage's inner world. No, the darkness that clouded his vision was not shadow or an absence of light, but rather a lack of vision as a whole. As a result of his battle with the Inner Hollow that formed the basis of his powers, Zeich had lost his vision, being blinded by Tsukikage at the end of their confrontation. Though it had been an affliction inflicted in the Inner World, something that should have healed after the fight had ended, the Hollow's last act had left its mark on his spirit and had remained despite time spent healing. In the real world, Zeich's eyes were completely undamaged, and every examination of his physical body suggested that he should be able to see just fine. But the spiritual affliction had affected something, and since then, he had been unable to see.
Well, that was not entirely true, in multiple ways; Zeich could see, but not with his eyes, instead relying on his senses of hearing and touch to get a better feel of the area around him. He had learned a technique that created a sort of spiritual sonar wave as well, though it only worked on spiritual beings. Still, it did help him to distinguish those with spiritual power from those who did not have it rather readily, giving him a sort of sense he did not normally have. Finally, he could regain his vision, albeit temporarily, by donning his Vizard mask; Zeich had discovered that while he couldn't see through his own eyes, using the filter of Tsukikage's own vision allowed him sight for a temporary period. Everything was tinted with red, and the Hollow's anger constantly rose up when Zeich's mask was worn, but at least it was better than nothing.
But that was all behind him. Right now, Zeich knew that there was nothing he could do about his visual condition, so instead he focused on why he had come to his Inner World in the first place. Normally, the Vizard slipped into his other Inner World, the one that was formed around his original Zanpaktou spirit, Haiiro. Separated from his soul and bound to the sword that sat at Zeich's side, Haiiro had survived being attacked by Tsukikage back before the Hollow had been subdued, and now managed to live alongside his master in a manner of speaking. As a result, he had developed his own Inner World, separate from the land of darkness in which Tsukikage dwelt, and Zeich often retreated there for meditative purposes.
Today, however, the Vizard had thrown open the chained doors to his Inner Hollow's world and descended into the darkness. Today, he had a goal that could only be accomplished by entering the shadows and communicating with Tsukikage, something that he felt he needed desperately. Zeich had been introduced to the concept of a unique technique called Soulbind, one that allowed the user to draw upon their Zanpaktou's powers in an unusual way, channeling it through their body. This often allowed for abilities with unique aspects that could often turn the tide of battle, but what formed from Soulbind was unpredictable until it was used; the shape and powers varied with the spirit that fused with the user's soul, after all. Zeich did not know what would come from communing with his Inner Hollow, but he was willing to discover what power could come from the fusion of souls.
Absently, Zeich looked around, though his eyes would not see anything. In his mind, he knew what he would have seen anyway; a world of black and gray extended in all directions, dried grass crunching beneath his feet and illuminated by a circle of wan light. In the shadows there was more to the land, twisted and broken trees or crumbled rocks, but all of that was hidden by the darkness until one moved around. In those shadows, Tsukikage waited, the dark lupine as indistinct as a patch of mist in a fogbank. The creature could disappear and reappear at will, lurking within the wall of black until he chose to be seen. This was the Inner World of a Hollow.
But Zeich had come here for a reason, and it wasn't to admire the scenery he couldn't see. “Tsukikage, come out! I want to speak with you.” It was a bit brash of him to be making “demands” of his Inner Hollow so soon after claiming dominance of his soul, but Zeich knew that it was best to use the advantage while he had it; the Hollow was somewhat unruly when it came to their relationship, and only responded grudgingly whenever his “master” called upon him. The two of them would never get along, Zeich felt, but that was to be expected, with two beings vying over the control of one soul and body. Maybe one day the two of them could come to an accord of sorts, but that day was a long time in coming, and would be even more so until the two of them could at least find some way to see eye-to-eye.
“You called, 'master'?” The voice came from behind Zeich, startling him briefly, but he kept his expression level as the wolf-like Hollow approached from the shadows. Zeich could sense the creature's presence, even though he couldn't see, and turned almost casually to face his inner darkness. Tsukikage's presence felt tense and wary, for good reason; he had as much reason to hate Zeich as the Vizard did to loathe and fear his Inner Hollow. Tsukikage longed for freedom from an unintended prison, and Zeich wanted to be rid of the darkness that had torn him away from Soul Society and the duties that had once defined his life. So of course their relationship was more than a little strained.
“You go from one mockery to another, Tsukikage. Can't we skip the name-calling and just speak civilly for once?” Zeich's reprimand was calm, but beneath the facade a ripple of annoyance crossed his emotions, the only motion in a still sea of relaxed control. Part of him wanted to be angry at Tsukikage for still rebelling against him despite the control that Zeich had earned, as though the universe owed him some sort of fairness for his victory, yet common sense dictated that the wolf would rebel as long as he wanted; victory did not necessarily mean dominance, simply control of the body; Zeich could hold control of his soul and willpower, but he could not rein in the Hollow so easily. That was something that would have to be gained over time, either through respect... or through fear. Zeich hadn't yet decided which path would be best for taming Tsukikage, but that would depend on the wolf's actions in the future, too.
“We could, but I enjoy toying with you far too much.” Zeich fought a sigh and waited for the wolf to continue. “Anyway, what is it you want, boy? You're not the type to descend into the darkness; after all, that would require something of a spine.” The wolf's mocking laughter rang out, echoing in the seemingly endless darkness, but Zeich shoved his annoyance aside and stepped forward towards Tsukikage. The Hollow's laughter stopped abruptly, and the creature stepped backwards into the shadows, vanishing from sight. Zeich smiled softly; it seemed that he had some command of his Inner Hollow after all, if he was going to jump at every footstep. Silence was enough of an indication that Tsukikage was nervous around the Vizard.
“You're one to talk of spinelessness, Tsukikage. Having a hard time forgetting your defeat?” His retaliation complete, Zeich got to the point, crossing his arms and staring into the darkness where Tsukikage had disappeared, the growl echoing around him far less intimidating now that he had the upper hand. “I came here to make a request. Not a demand, not a plea, but a request. You can tolerate that much at least, right? Now come out here and let's try to speak civilly before I change my mind and decide to leave again.” Another growl echoed through the shadows, but they darkness slid back slowly, widening the area of visibility enough that Tsukikage was revealed at the edge of the circle. Zeich had known the wolf would reveal himself; after all, the Hollow was inquisitive enough to be intrigued by his jailor's need for a “request,” and would work with him long enough to hear what it was.
“I would like to learn the spiritual technique Soulbind, one that can only be taught by one's inner spirit. I know its costs, and I know what effect it has on you, and so I have come to request that you teach me. And, since I know the pain it causes you, I am willing to listen to your terms for teaching it to me.” Soulbind was indeed a powerful technique, and the power that could come from a Vizard's already impressive strength combined with that of their Inner Hollow's would be unstoppable, in Zeich's eyes. Vizards possessed powers that made Shinigami fear them, and the Inner Hollow was the Vizard's match, able to use their Release abilities even more expertly than they could. Combining the two forces was something Zeich desired.
But with such power came a price, and Zeich knew that he would be in for a hard bargain. Soulbind was a technique that forcibly aligned the inner spirit with the user's soul in a way that was excruciatingly painful for the spirit. Given enough uses in a short time, the spirit could be ripped apart and damaged beyond recovery, and even if they survived it was incredibly agonizing. This was why Zeich had come prepared to bargain, rather than to demand; he knew the toll Soulbind would have on Tsukikage, and knew that the Inner Hollow would likely deny the request. After all, what did Tsukikage gain from giving his jailor such power? Sure, it would aid Zeich in surviving against powerful foes who would attempt to wipe him out, and if the host survived, so did the Hollow within it. But beyond that, why would he bother allowing Zeich to cause him such pain as freely as the Vizard chose?
“And what could someone like you offer me, boy? All I want is your body. And since I know you won't give that to me... there's no sense in continuing this conversation any further.”
But Zeich had come prepared for this encounter with an offer that he believed his Hollow's sadistic nature would not allow him to resist. “Actually, I have another proposal. I am aware of the price of Soulbind, and the pain that comes with it for the spirit involved. In exchange for making you suffer such pain, I will offer myself up to a similar pain of your choosing.” Tsukikage seemed intrigued, his ears perking up, his eyes narrowing in contemplation as he nodded for Zeich to continue; it seemed that the Vizard was right on the money, sure that his Inner Hollow would use any excuse to cause him suffering in exchange for captivity. “In exchange for learning this technique for the first time, you will have one hour to cause as much non-lethal pain as you wish, to any scale. As long as it doesn't kill me or harm me in such a way that I can no longer function in or out of your Inner World, it is fair game. And, further, each time I use Soulbind, you will be given another period of time equal to the time I spent in Soulbind for further torture in the same manner. This will both ensure that I use it sparingly, and that when I do, you get something out of it, just as I do.”
“So let me get this straight... you're willing to take whatever I want to dish out in exchange for this technique, hm? You are aware that I know all about causing pain; before we were together, I enjoyed causing others to suffer, and since being with you, I have seen interrogation methods and combat that have caused worse. If you allow me to have my way with you, you're going to suffer an agony you can't even begin to imagine, even assuming I hold back enough to let you keep your mind and sanity.” Tsukikage's lips were curled back in a feral smirk, one that suggested he was pleased with the possibilities. After all, when else would he be given such free reign to cause pure suffering? No, it was obvious that he was eager to begin, if the bargain was as he suggested.
“Correct. There are no limitations, as long as I can function. Removal of limbs, internal injuries, hell, you can skin me alive if you want to, as long as it doesn't impact me permanently. Torment me to your heart's desire, in exchange for the pain that my use of Soulbind causes you. Do we have a deal?”
“Bargain struck; I'll begin straightaway!” Suddenly, Zeich felt something plunge into his stomach, and he reached down even as pain began to blossom, only starting to burn in comparison to the length of cold running through his middle. A long sword blade met his fingers as he reached down, and judging by its shape and length, it was a katana. Suddenly, the Vizard had a chilling feeling that he knew what was about to happen, a feeling that was confirmed as the blade began to break away and dissolve in his hands, chunks of metal converting to a grainy substance that flowed around his fingers. Soon the entire blade was gone, but the feeling of something stabbed into his body was not, and by now the pain had begun in full force.
It was his Zanpaktou, Zeich knew; the power came from Tsukikage, meaning that he had full control over its ashen form and the ability to create weapons from it. No, worse; Tsukikage had ultimate control over the Zanpaktou's form, and had displayed more than once the ability to transform it in ways that Zeich had never been able to achieve. Not only did it manage to take on weapon forms, but Tsukikage had used it to alter his own form, as well as create meshes of bladed wires, cages... the level of manipulation that the Hollow could perform was disturbingly extensive. Zeich feared it even as he felt the blade bite into his flesh, as he felt the flames of pain start to wash through his body. There was a sense of wrongness, spreading outwards from the wound, and then...
Suddenly, a large blade like that of a knife erupted from Zeich's right shoulder, spraying blood with its exit. The Vizard let out a strangled gasp, but even as he tried to cry out, his throat locked up, and the tightness in his lungs told him that ash was beginning to fill them. Thinking that Tsukikage was overstepping his bounds, Zeich began to concentrate on taking control of the Inner World, ending the torment immediately before it could become something more fatal, only to find his mind distracted as the sensation in his chest slowed, leaving him sufficient air to breathe, albeit barely. He could feel his heartbeat pick up as he panted in quick, small breaths, unable to expand his lungs enough to take more than the faintest of gasps. He was alive, and able to function, just as Tsukikage had promised, but he was dancing on the edge of death. One wrong move could kill him.
Zeich wanted to flee, desperately; he knew that in the situation he was in, he could take control, yet something irrational in his mind wanted to panic. His breaths were so small, his breathing so rapid, he started to hyperventilate slightly. The Vizard could feel the tightness in his chest, could feel the pain lancing outwards from his shoulder and stomach, and he wondered if this was what dying was like. Yet he forced himself to try and remain calm, to focus on the goal; he had exactly one hour to endure, and it had only been a minute or two at best. Fifty-eight minutes remaining... He thought to himself grimly; if Tsukikage could make him want to quit this early, it would be an extremely long hour.
Focus... just focus... Deep breaths, calm... There were no deep breaths, though, only the light rattling of his ash-filled lungs. They ached, the weight of the powdery substance within them making his chest feel heavy. Oh, how he wanted to quit! But Zeich knew that he needed every advantage available to him, and so in order to unlock the use of Soulbind, he would have to endure. Be calm. Remember the goal. Always move forward. The pain from his shoulder had died down, a constant burning rather than a flare of agony, but Tsukikage soon rectified this as the blade slowly began to carve its way down his shoulder, tearing through muscle and flesh in slow measures.
Don't worry... I'm going to make full use of this hour, 'Master.' The words echoed through the darkness of the Inner World, and suddenly Zeich felt claws rake along his shoulders, just enough to tear through the flesh and draw thin lines of blood, but not enough to leave crippling wounds. Yet the one on his right shoulder burned, and as the sensation continued to grow, Zeich realized that Tsukikage had left behind more of his ash with that motion. It spread in thin tendrils like a network of veins over his skin, and where that ash touched, it left trails of fire across his nerves. Not literal fire, no; the pain that Tsukikage's suppressive ash caused was far more potent, as it didn't burn away the nerves and flesh as much as it continuously triggered their responses. It started like a thousand needle-like pinpricks, but as the ash met the blade emerging from his shoulder, Zeich could feel the metal melting down into more of the gray powder that coated his arm.
In moments, the pinpricks were more like stabs, but without the feeling of blood running down his arm. In fact, his body's physical status was fine, relatively speaking; aside from the enormous wound in his shoulder and stomach along from the scratches across his shoulders, the actual damage to his body was severely disproportionate to the growing pain. His right arm, now almost completely covered in ash, began to burn like he had plunged into molten fire. Reflexively the Vizard's fingers curled as the nerves in his arm spasmed, the muscles tensing and the limb twisting almost unnaturally in reaction to the agony beginning to build up. Tears streamed from his eyes as his breathing became more shallow, the pain making it hard for his lungs to draw in what little air he could, yet Zeich could feel the ash in his chest shifting enough to allow him just enough oxygen to keep conscious. Tsukikage knew how to toe the line of his limitations without crossing it.
But it was only just the beginning, and Zeich knew it as he slumped to the ground, his legs unable to stay sturdy beneath him as the pain grew in intensity. Five minutes? Ten? How long had it been? Yet this was only the beginning of what Tsukikage could do, and with a chill the Vizard remembered some of his own suggestions that he had thrown around far too carelessly. Now he was going to face the consequences of his actions; even as he collapsed to the ground, Zeich felt the ash beginning to flow over his legs, toes curling and the muscles tightening as pain began to overtake him. It would be so easy to lose consciousness now, to simply slip into the darkness and let it swallow him whole. But the moment he did that, the moment he let himself lose consciousness, Zeich knew that he would die. Without his host to keep him actively bound, Tsukikage would consume the Vizard's consciousness and take the body for his own.
No, he had to remain awake. Breathing heavily as he felt the pain starting to grow rapidly, burning across his legs and sides, spreading down his arms, Zeich struggled to keep his eyes open. He didn't have to be able to see anything, just as long as the sensation was there. Since losing his sight, he had learned how to rely on so many other stimuli from the remainder of his senses, touch and hearing in particular, and it came in handy in times like this. As long as he could feel his eyes were open, he would know that he was still alive. As long as his muscles ached with the fiery pain of Tsukikage's ashen torment, then he knew he was still alive. And as long as the dark Hollow's laugh rang in his ears, he knew that he was still alive.
The torment continued for an indeterminable amount of time; even as the ash covered Zeich from the neck down, the pain only continued to intensify, each muscle beginning to tense and twitch like a full-body cramp, and growing worse by the moment. Soon he felt as though the muscles were actually beginning to tear, like a hot knife ripping through his body, and his fingers and toes curled reflexively, the nerves causing the digits to twitch. But it wasn't just his hands and feet; his face started to twitch, the muscles of his jaw and around his eyes causing his expression to shift and jump. He could feel his teeth clamp down, narrowly missing removing the tip of his tongue, and soon his jaw locked, starting to cramp from the spasms wracking his body. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes and then flowed down his face, his body's reactions to the pain instant no matter how strong his willpower was. A ringing sound filled his ears as he waited, losing track of time as he embraced nothing but pain.
Zeich didn't know how much time passed, but suddenly it was over. The shock was worse than the pain itself, like diving into ice water after sitting in a sauna; suddenly every inch of him felt numb, impossibly light, like he'd float away. Sensation vanished, leaving the Vizard feeling as though every inch of his skin had truly been flayed away, leaving nothing left to experience pain. It was easy to breathe... too easy. He gasped for air, struggling to take it down without choking, but it just left him coughing, his throat tight and his chest on fire. Rolling onto his back—when he had ended up on his face, Zeich couldn't tell—the man tried his hardest to stabilize his breathing, to view his world normally again instead of through a filter of pain. “Is it over...?” Zeich gasped as he tried to right himself, but his shaking arms would barely support him. The world was silent... eerily so, as the Vizard just lay there, soaked in sweat and staring into nothingness.
“Don't worry, boy. I've got just enough time for one last torture, and this one will be my best yet...” Suddenly light flooded Zeich's vision, and for a moment he realized something: he could see. The Vizard waved a hand in front of his eyes, and indeed, he watched it float by. Reaching up, Zeich felt around his face to see if a mask was present; he had only been able to see through Tsukikage's eyes since he had lost his sight, and he wanted to see if that had changed. Unfortunately, it had not; touching his hands to his face, Zeich felt the solid bone of his Vizard mask coating his face. The long muzzle was oddly not present in his visual range despite normally being there; it seemed the mask was merely being used as a medium to show an image. But of what?
The image cleared, and Zeich realized that he was floating near the ceiling of what looked to be some kind of living room. There was a large sofa in the middle with a table in front of it, though there weren't many other decorations aside from another chair set aside and out of the way. A woman lay on the couch, but not comfortably; her arms and legs were bound, and a gag kept her from speaking. What was this scene, anyway? Was it meant to be a metaphor, or a memory? For some reason, Zeich felt that it was the latter, but it wasn't one of his own; perhaps he was seeing one of Tsukikage's own memories, and the Hollow found something particularly pleasing about this one.
The door to the room opened, and Zeich turned to see a young boy walk in, flanked by a large, bald man who was covered from head to toe in tattoos. Something about the boy seemed familiar; he had short black hair and amber-brown eyes, and wore a standard school uniform. Yet Zeich didn't recognize him, for all of the familiarity; who was he? There was little time to dwell on it, however, as the door was closed behind those entering, and then locked. The boy looked confused, but the man escorting him was completely calm, a smirk crossing his face as he reached down towards a gun tucked into his belt, pulling it free and turning off the safety.
“M-mom?” The boy asked, staring at the woman tied on the couch. Still calm, but wary of this “torture” that had yet to reveal itself, Zeich started to piece together possible scenarios. A boy and his mother, along with a man who possessed a gun. Was this a robbery or a hostage situation? Was it an execution? There was more to this scene that only Tsukikage knew, or he would not have shown the image to Zeich. It had to be something to do with the boy; something nagged at the Vizard as he stared at the teen, wondering exactly who he was. The familiarity was discomforting, and for some reason, Zeich felt like he was on the verge of understanding the point of this vision. But the boy was speaking again, and Zeich listend closer. “Ink, what's going on here? I thought you said...”
“I said you had to kill someone to be promoted, yes.” The man, now identified as Ink, said with a grin. “I never said who.” With that, the man handed the gun to Zeich. “Now, take this. It's got several bullets in it, so don't worry if the first shot is a bit sloppy. But try and make the first one count, kid. You don't want her to suffer, do you?” More pieces fell into place as Zeich recognized some sort of initiation. What it was for, he couldn't say, but the former Shinigami felt a chill growing as he watched the boy consider the gun, fear on the teen's face as he looked up at his mother, mentally weighing his decisions. He could kill his mother for the “promotion” he wanted, or leave her alive... but what was the cost if he did so?
Ink was kind enough to answer the question for him. “Remember, kid, we told you this is all or nothing. You do it, and you're part of the Black Dragons forever. If you don't, however... you won't be leaving this room alive.” All or nothing indeed; Zeich knew that this boy was trapped, and had no alternatives; either his mother died, or he did. If the latter choice happened to be chosen, then there was every possibility that the boy's mother would be killed anyway in punishment for his defiance. Coldly and logically, Zeich knew that the boy's only choices were to kill his mother, or turn that gun on his captor. The latter would of course lead to the family's deaths again, but at least they'd take out one of their captors with them. But Zeich was a detached observer, and he knew that in the spur of the moment, cold logic was not nearly as easy as he made it look.
The teen took the gun and, with shaking hands, slowly began to raise it, pointing it towards the woman. His grip on the gun was poor, and the first shot would probably miss or hit a non-vital spot, Zeich thought as he watched closely, waiting for the moment that would mark his “torture.” But before the boy could shoot, Ink put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and then moved over to the woman. “One moment, kid; this will really put you to the test.” With that, Ink ripped the gag off of the mother's mouth, allowing her to talk again. Yet for a moment she stood paralyzed, terrified by the gun pointed directly towards her by the hands of her shaking son. Then she spoke, and suddenly Zeich understood.
“Please... Zeich, no...!”
The gunshot that rang out was too loud, and at the same time, Zeich barely heard it over the suddenly rapid beating of his own heart. His head spun again, and he reached out to try and steady himself as his mind worked through what had just happened. Blood... blood stained the couch like a crimson mantle draped over it, but there was more than that; the sick crack of bone as the metal slug penetrated the skull and the muffled gasp that came from the woman's throat seemed to echo and distort in the Vizard's senses. His stomach turned, and he felt as though he would be ill. Suddenly, the boy's familiarity became all too evident; Zeich was looking at a far younger version of himself.
But things did not end there. Even as the woman gasped, the wound fatal in nature yet the soul still clinging to life, the boy suddenly turned the gun on himself. Zeich, reflexively, moved to stop his younger self as though it would do something, only to find that he couldn't move. He could only watch as the teen put the gun to his mouth and pulled the trigger. Once more the shot rang out, but instead of beating faster, Zeich's heart seemed to stop for a moment, leaving him feeling dizzy as he watched himself collapse in a spray of blood, the crimson liquid pooling on the ground beneath him. It was then that Zeich understood what Tsukikage wanted to show him: how he died, and the sin he bore at the time of his death.
“You know, I had a front-row seat to all of this...” Tsukikage spoke smugly in Zeich's ear even as the image froze with the boy lying on the ground, dead as could be. “I was just lurking around the area, and happened to watch you die... I had planned on simply devouring your soul and your mother's before being on my way.” The Hollow laughed, pleased as he recalled the memory. “Ah, but that's ancient history. I'm sure you don't care about your death, or your mother's; you've always been so practical, am I right? Surely, this is nothing to you...”
“Shut up!” The words exploded from Zeich angrily as he reached for the mask covering his face, trying to rip it off. “That wasn't real! It's a trick, a torture! You're lying, it's as simple as that!” He couldn't get the mask off, it wouldn't budge! And all the while, Tsukikage's laughter rang out around him, the wolf's glee at Zeich's sudden horror evident. The Hollow was delighting in his jailor's torment, constantly goading him on. “Is it, boy? Only I know the truth of that day...”
Suddenly the world seemed to tilt, and Zeich sat up, feeling cloth beneath his hands and the cool night air flowing over his body. He was back in bed, awake after that long meditative session. Had it truly been an hour? Somehow, it seemed like far more. The Vizard shook, his body soaked with sweat, and his nerves shot. Laying back down, it was all he could do to not curl up in fear. What was that? Was that vision real? No, Zeich hadn't killed his own mother... had he? He didn't know; the Vizard couldn't remember anything from before waking up in Soul Society. It was common for souls to forget their living lives after moving on to Soul Society, and Zeich had been no exception. But now he wanted to know, to find out if Tsukikage's vision was a truth or a carefully-crafted lie. But more than a century after his initial death, Zeich knew that there was no one alive still who would have been there to know. Only one person knew the truth of that day... and the Vizard doubted that Tsukikage would ever tell, if he hadn't already.
Rolling over in bed, Zeich pulled the covers over him, closing his eyes and trying to block out the images still in his head. He was soon asleep, though rest would only come with nightmares for the remainder of the evening.
He opened his eyes, but it made no difference as he did so; darkness would remain darkness, even in the inner world of his spirit. Zeich's golden gaze stared off into the distance, unable to perceive anything, and not just because of Tsukikage's inner world. No, the darkness that clouded his vision was not shadow or an absence of light, but rather a lack of vision as a whole. As a result of his battle with the Inner Hollow that formed the basis of his powers, Zeich had lost his vision, being blinded by Tsukikage at the end of their confrontation. Though it had been an affliction inflicted in the Inner World, something that should have healed after the fight had ended, the Hollow's last act had left its mark on his spirit and had remained despite time spent healing. In the real world, Zeich's eyes were completely undamaged, and every examination of his physical body suggested that he should be able to see just fine. But the spiritual affliction had affected something, and since then, he had been unable to see.
Well, that was not entirely true, in multiple ways; Zeich could see, but not with his eyes, instead relying on his senses of hearing and touch to get a better feel of the area around him. He had learned a technique that created a sort of spiritual sonar wave as well, though it only worked on spiritual beings. Still, it did help him to distinguish those with spiritual power from those who did not have it rather readily, giving him a sort of sense he did not normally have. Finally, he could regain his vision, albeit temporarily, by donning his Vizard mask; Zeich had discovered that while he couldn't see through his own eyes, using the filter of Tsukikage's own vision allowed him sight for a temporary period. Everything was tinted with red, and the Hollow's anger constantly rose up when Zeich's mask was worn, but at least it was better than nothing.
But that was all behind him. Right now, Zeich knew that there was nothing he could do about his visual condition, so instead he focused on why he had come to his Inner World in the first place. Normally, the Vizard slipped into his other Inner World, the one that was formed around his original Zanpaktou spirit, Haiiro. Separated from his soul and bound to the sword that sat at Zeich's side, Haiiro had survived being attacked by Tsukikage back before the Hollow had been subdued, and now managed to live alongside his master in a manner of speaking. As a result, he had developed his own Inner World, separate from the land of darkness in which Tsukikage dwelt, and Zeich often retreated there for meditative purposes.
Today, however, the Vizard had thrown open the chained doors to his Inner Hollow's world and descended into the darkness. Today, he had a goal that could only be accomplished by entering the shadows and communicating with Tsukikage, something that he felt he needed desperately. Zeich had been introduced to the concept of a unique technique called Soulbind, one that allowed the user to draw upon their Zanpaktou's powers in an unusual way, channeling it through their body. This often allowed for abilities with unique aspects that could often turn the tide of battle, but what formed from Soulbind was unpredictable until it was used; the shape and powers varied with the spirit that fused with the user's soul, after all. Zeich did not know what would come from communing with his Inner Hollow, but he was willing to discover what power could come from the fusion of souls.
Absently, Zeich looked around, though his eyes would not see anything. In his mind, he knew what he would have seen anyway; a world of black and gray extended in all directions, dried grass crunching beneath his feet and illuminated by a circle of wan light. In the shadows there was more to the land, twisted and broken trees or crumbled rocks, but all of that was hidden by the darkness until one moved around. In those shadows, Tsukikage waited, the dark lupine as indistinct as a patch of mist in a fogbank. The creature could disappear and reappear at will, lurking within the wall of black until he chose to be seen. This was the Inner World of a Hollow.
But Zeich had come here for a reason, and it wasn't to admire the scenery he couldn't see. “Tsukikage, come out! I want to speak with you.” It was a bit brash of him to be making “demands” of his Inner Hollow so soon after claiming dominance of his soul, but Zeich knew that it was best to use the advantage while he had it; the Hollow was somewhat unruly when it came to their relationship, and only responded grudgingly whenever his “master” called upon him. The two of them would never get along, Zeich felt, but that was to be expected, with two beings vying over the control of one soul and body. Maybe one day the two of them could come to an accord of sorts, but that day was a long time in coming, and would be even more so until the two of them could at least find some way to see eye-to-eye.
“You called, 'master'?” The voice came from behind Zeich, startling him briefly, but he kept his expression level as the wolf-like Hollow approached from the shadows. Zeich could sense the creature's presence, even though he couldn't see, and turned almost casually to face his inner darkness. Tsukikage's presence felt tense and wary, for good reason; he had as much reason to hate Zeich as the Vizard did to loathe and fear his Inner Hollow. Tsukikage longed for freedom from an unintended prison, and Zeich wanted to be rid of the darkness that had torn him away from Soul Society and the duties that had once defined his life. So of course their relationship was more than a little strained.
“You go from one mockery to another, Tsukikage. Can't we skip the name-calling and just speak civilly for once?” Zeich's reprimand was calm, but beneath the facade a ripple of annoyance crossed his emotions, the only motion in a still sea of relaxed control. Part of him wanted to be angry at Tsukikage for still rebelling against him despite the control that Zeich had earned, as though the universe owed him some sort of fairness for his victory, yet common sense dictated that the wolf would rebel as long as he wanted; victory did not necessarily mean dominance, simply control of the body; Zeich could hold control of his soul and willpower, but he could not rein in the Hollow so easily. That was something that would have to be gained over time, either through respect... or through fear. Zeich hadn't yet decided which path would be best for taming Tsukikage, but that would depend on the wolf's actions in the future, too.
“We could, but I enjoy toying with you far too much.” Zeich fought a sigh and waited for the wolf to continue. “Anyway, what is it you want, boy? You're not the type to descend into the darkness; after all, that would require something of a spine.” The wolf's mocking laughter rang out, echoing in the seemingly endless darkness, but Zeich shoved his annoyance aside and stepped forward towards Tsukikage. The Hollow's laughter stopped abruptly, and the creature stepped backwards into the shadows, vanishing from sight. Zeich smiled softly; it seemed that he had some command of his Inner Hollow after all, if he was going to jump at every footstep. Silence was enough of an indication that Tsukikage was nervous around the Vizard.
“You're one to talk of spinelessness, Tsukikage. Having a hard time forgetting your defeat?” His retaliation complete, Zeich got to the point, crossing his arms and staring into the darkness where Tsukikage had disappeared, the growl echoing around him far less intimidating now that he had the upper hand. “I came here to make a request. Not a demand, not a plea, but a request. You can tolerate that much at least, right? Now come out here and let's try to speak civilly before I change my mind and decide to leave again.” Another growl echoed through the shadows, but they darkness slid back slowly, widening the area of visibility enough that Tsukikage was revealed at the edge of the circle. Zeich had known the wolf would reveal himself; after all, the Hollow was inquisitive enough to be intrigued by his jailor's need for a “request,” and would work with him long enough to hear what it was.
“I would like to learn the spiritual technique Soulbind, one that can only be taught by one's inner spirit. I know its costs, and I know what effect it has on you, and so I have come to request that you teach me. And, since I know the pain it causes you, I am willing to listen to your terms for teaching it to me.” Soulbind was indeed a powerful technique, and the power that could come from a Vizard's already impressive strength combined with that of their Inner Hollow's would be unstoppable, in Zeich's eyes. Vizards possessed powers that made Shinigami fear them, and the Inner Hollow was the Vizard's match, able to use their Release abilities even more expertly than they could. Combining the two forces was something Zeich desired.
But with such power came a price, and Zeich knew that he would be in for a hard bargain. Soulbind was a technique that forcibly aligned the inner spirit with the user's soul in a way that was excruciatingly painful for the spirit. Given enough uses in a short time, the spirit could be ripped apart and damaged beyond recovery, and even if they survived it was incredibly agonizing. This was why Zeich had come prepared to bargain, rather than to demand; he knew the toll Soulbind would have on Tsukikage, and knew that the Inner Hollow would likely deny the request. After all, what did Tsukikage gain from giving his jailor such power? Sure, it would aid Zeich in surviving against powerful foes who would attempt to wipe him out, and if the host survived, so did the Hollow within it. But beyond that, why would he bother allowing Zeich to cause him such pain as freely as the Vizard chose?
“And what could someone like you offer me, boy? All I want is your body. And since I know you won't give that to me... there's no sense in continuing this conversation any further.”
But Zeich had come prepared for this encounter with an offer that he believed his Hollow's sadistic nature would not allow him to resist. “Actually, I have another proposal. I am aware of the price of Soulbind, and the pain that comes with it for the spirit involved. In exchange for making you suffer such pain, I will offer myself up to a similar pain of your choosing.” Tsukikage seemed intrigued, his ears perking up, his eyes narrowing in contemplation as he nodded for Zeich to continue; it seemed that the Vizard was right on the money, sure that his Inner Hollow would use any excuse to cause him suffering in exchange for captivity. “In exchange for learning this technique for the first time, you will have one hour to cause as much non-lethal pain as you wish, to any scale. As long as it doesn't kill me or harm me in such a way that I can no longer function in or out of your Inner World, it is fair game. And, further, each time I use Soulbind, you will be given another period of time equal to the time I spent in Soulbind for further torture in the same manner. This will both ensure that I use it sparingly, and that when I do, you get something out of it, just as I do.”
“So let me get this straight... you're willing to take whatever I want to dish out in exchange for this technique, hm? You are aware that I know all about causing pain; before we were together, I enjoyed causing others to suffer, and since being with you, I have seen interrogation methods and combat that have caused worse. If you allow me to have my way with you, you're going to suffer an agony you can't even begin to imagine, even assuming I hold back enough to let you keep your mind and sanity.” Tsukikage's lips were curled back in a feral smirk, one that suggested he was pleased with the possibilities. After all, when else would he be given such free reign to cause pure suffering? No, it was obvious that he was eager to begin, if the bargain was as he suggested.
“Correct. There are no limitations, as long as I can function. Removal of limbs, internal injuries, hell, you can skin me alive if you want to, as long as it doesn't impact me permanently. Torment me to your heart's desire, in exchange for the pain that my use of Soulbind causes you. Do we have a deal?”
“Bargain struck; I'll begin straightaway!” Suddenly, Zeich felt something plunge into his stomach, and he reached down even as pain began to blossom, only starting to burn in comparison to the length of cold running through his middle. A long sword blade met his fingers as he reached down, and judging by its shape and length, it was a katana. Suddenly, the Vizard had a chilling feeling that he knew what was about to happen, a feeling that was confirmed as the blade began to break away and dissolve in his hands, chunks of metal converting to a grainy substance that flowed around his fingers. Soon the entire blade was gone, but the feeling of something stabbed into his body was not, and by now the pain had begun in full force.
It was his Zanpaktou, Zeich knew; the power came from Tsukikage, meaning that he had full control over its ashen form and the ability to create weapons from it. No, worse; Tsukikage had ultimate control over the Zanpaktou's form, and had displayed more than once the ability to transform it in ways that Zeich had never been able to achieve. Not only did it manage to take on weapon forms, but Tsukikage had used it to alter his own form, as well as create meshes of bladed wires, cages... the level of manipulation that the Hollow could perform was disturbingly extensive. Zeich feared it even as he felt the blade bite into his flesh, as he felt the flames of pain start to wash through his body. There was a sense of wrongness, spreading outwards from the wound, and then...
Suddenly, a large blade like that of a knife erupted from Zeich's right shoulder, spraying blood with its exit. The Vizard let out a strangled gasp, but even as he tried to cry out, his throat locked up, and the tightness in his lungs told him that ash was beginning to fill them. Thinking that Tsukikage was overstepping his bounds, Zeich began to concentrate on taking control of the Inner World, ending the torment immediately before it could become something more fatal, only to find his mind distracted as the sensation in his chest slowed, leaving him sufficient air to breathe, albeit barely. He could feel his heartbeat pick up as he panted in quick, small breaths, unable to expand his lungs enough to take more than the faintest of gasps. He was alive, and able to function, just as Tsukikage had promised, but he was dancing on the edge of death. One wrong move could kill him.
Zeich wanted to flee, desperately; he knew that in the situation he was in, he could take control, yet something irrational in his mind wanted to panic. His breaths were so small, his breathing so rapid, he started to hyperventilate slightly. The Vizard could feel the tightness in his chest, could feel the pain lancing outwards from his shoulder and stomach, and he wondered if this was what dying was like. Yet he forced himself to try and remain calm, to focus on the goal; he had exactly one hour to endure, and it had only been a minute or two at best. Fifty-eight minutes remaining... He thought to himself grimly; if Tsukikage could make him want to quit this early, it would be an extremely long hour.
Focus... just focus... Deep breaths, calm... There were no deep breaths, though, only the light rattling of his ash-filled lungs. They ached, the weight of the powdery substance within them making his chest feel heavy. Oh, how he wanted to quit! But Zeich knew that he needed every advantage available to him, and so in order to unlock the use of Soulbind, he would have to endure. Be calm. Remember the goal. Always move forward. The pain from his shoulder had died down, a constant burning rather than a flare of agony, but Tsukikage soon rectified this as the blade slowly began to carve its way down his shoulder, tearing through muscle and flesh in slow measures.
Don't worry... I'm going to make full use of this hour, 'Master.' The words echoed through the darkness of the Inner World, and suddenly Zeich felt claws rake along his shoulders, just enough to tear through the flesh and draw thin lines of blood, but not enough to leave crippling wounds. Yet the one on his right shoulder burned, and as the sensation continued to grow, Zeich realized that Tsukikage had left behind more of his ash with that motion. It spread in thin tendrils like a network of veins over his skin, and where that ash touched, it left trails of fire across his nerves. Not literal fire, no; the pain that Tsukikage's suppressive ash caused was far more potent, as it didn't burn away the nerves and flesh as much as it continuously triggered their responses. It started like a thousand needle-like pinpricks, but as the ash met the blade emerging from his shoulder, Zeich could feel the metal melting down into more of the gray powder that coated his arm.
In moments, the pinpricks were more like stabs, but without the feeling of blood running down his arm. In fact, his body's physical status was fine, relatively speaking; aside from the enormous wound in his shoulder and stomach along from the scratches across his shoulders, the actual damage to his body was severely disproportionate to the growing pain. His right arm, now almost completely covered in ash, began to burn like he had plunged into molten fire. Reflexively the Vizard's fingers curled as the nerves in his arm spasmed, the muscles tensing and the limb twisting almost unnaturally in reaction to the agony beginning to build up. Tears streamed from his eyes as his breathing became more shallow, the pain making it hard for his lungs to draw in what little air he could, yet Zeich could feel the ash in his chest shifting enough to allow him just enough oxygen to keep conscious. Tsukikage knew how to toe the line of his limitations without crossing it.
But it was only just the beginning, and Zeich knew it as he slumped to the ground, his legs unable to stay sturdy beneath him as the pain grew in intensity. Five minutes? Ten? How long had it been? Yet this was only the beginning of what Tsukikage could do, and with a chill the Vizard remembered some of his own suggestions that he had thrown around far too carelessly. Now he was going to face the consequences of his actions; even as he collapsed to the ground, Zeich felt the ash beginning to flow over his legs, toes curling and the muscles tightening as pain began to overtake him. It would be so easy to lose consciousness now, to simply slip into the darkness and let it swallow him whole. But the moment he did that, the moment he let himself lose consciousness, Zeich knew that he would die. Without his host to keep him actively bound, Tsukikage would consume the Vizard's consciousness and take the body for his own.
No, he had to remain awake. Breathing heavily as he felt the pain starting to grow rapidly, burning across his legs and sides, spreading down his arms, Zeich struggled to keep his eyes open. He didn't have to be able to see anything, just as long as the sensation was there. Since losing his sight, he had learned how to rely on so many other stimuli from the remainder of his senses, touch and hearing in particular, and it came in handy in times like this. As long as he could feel his eyes were open, he would know that he was still alive. As long as his muscles ached with the fiery pain of Tsukikage's ashen torment, then he knew he was still alive. And as long as the dark Hollow's laugh rang in his ears, he knew that he was still alive.
The torment continued for an indeterminable amount of time; even as the ash covered Zeich from the neck down, the pain only continued to intensify, each muscle beginning to tense and twitch like a full-body cramp, and growing worse by the moment. Soon he felt as though the muscles were actually beginning to tear, like a hot knife ripping through his body, and his fingers and toes curled reflexively, the nerves causing the digits to twitch. But it wasn't just his hands and feet; his face started to twitch, the muscles of his jaw and around his eyes causing his expression to shift and jump. He could feel his teeth clamp down, narrowly missing removing the tip of his tongue, and soon his jaw locked, starting to cramp from the spasms wracking his body. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes and then flowed down his face, his body's reactions to the pain instant no matter how strong his willpower was. A ringing sound filled his ears as he waited, losing track of time as he embraced nothing but pain.
Zeich didn't know how much time passed, but suddenly it was over. The shock was worse than the pain itself, like diving into ice water after sitting in a sauna; suddenly every inch of him felt numb, impossibly light, like he'd float away. Sensation vanished, leaving the Vizard feeling as though every inch of his skin had truly been flayed away, leaving nothing left to experience pain. It was easy to breathe... too easy. He gasped for air, struggling to take it down without choking, but it just left him coughing, his throat tight and his chest on fire. Rolling onto his back—when he had ended up on his face, Zeich couldn't tell—the man tried his hardest to stabilize his breathing, to view his world normally again instead of through a filter of pain. “Is it over...?” Zeich gasped as he tried to right himself, but his shaking arms would barely support him. The world was silent... eerily so, as the Vizard just lay there, soaked in sweat and staring into nothingness.
“Don't worry, boy. I've got just enough time for one last torture, and this one will be my best yet...” Suddenly light flooded Zeich's vision, and for a moment he realized something: he could see. The Vizard waved a hand in front of his eyes, and indeed, he watched it float by. Reaching up, Zeich felt around his face to see if a mask was present; he had only been able to see through Tsukikage's eyes since he had lost his sight, and he wanted to see if that had changed. Unfortunately, it had not; touching his hands to his face, Zeich felt the solid bone of his Vizard mask coating his face. The long muzzle was oddly not present in his visual range despite normally being there; it seemed the mask was merely being used as a medium to show an image. But of what?
The image cleared, and Zeich realized that he was floating near the ceiling of what looked to be some kind of living room. There was a large sofa in the middle with a table in front of it, though there weren't many other decorations aside from another chair set aside and out of the way. A woman lay on the couch, but not comfortably; her arms and legs were bound, and a gag kept her from speaking. What was this scene, anyway? Was it meant to be a metaphor, or a memory? For some reason, Zeich felt that it was the latter, but it wasn't one of his own; perhaps he was seeing one of Tsukikage's own memories, and the Hollow found something particularly pleasing about this one.
The door to the room opened, and Zeich turned to see a young boy walk in, flanked by a large, bald man who was covered from head to toe in tattoos. Something about the boy seemed familiar; he had short black hair and amber-brown eyes, and wore a standard school uniform. Yet Zeich didn't recognize him, for all of the familiarity; who was he? There was little time to dwell on it, however, as the door was closed behind those entering, and then locked. The boy looked confused, but the man escorting him was completely calm, a smirk crossing his face as he reached down towards a gun tucked into his belt, pulling it free and turning off the safety.
“M-mom?” The boy asked, staring at the woman tied on the couch. Still calm, but wary of this “torture” that had yet to reveal itself, Zeich started to piece together possible scenarios. A boy and his mother, along with a man who possessed a gun. Was this a robbery or a hostage situation? Was it an execution? There was more to this scene that only Tsukikage knew, or he would not have shown the image to Zeich. It had to be something to do with the boy; something nagged at the Vizard as he stared at the teen, wondering exactly who he was. The familiarity was discomforting, and for some reason, Zeich felt like he was on the verge of understanding the point of this vision. But the boy was speaking again, and Zeich listend closer. “Ink, what's going on here? I thought you said...”
“I said you had to kill someone to be promoted, yes.” The man, now identified as Ink, said with a grin. “I never said who.” With that, the man handed the gun to Zeich. “Now, take this. It's got several bullets in it, so don't worry if the first shot is a bit sloppy. But try and make the first one count, kid. You don't want her to suffer, do you?” More pieces fell into place as Zeich recognized some sort of initiation. What it was for, he couldn't say, but the former Shinigami felt a chill growing as he watched the boy consider the gun, fear on the teen's face as he looked up at his mother, mentally weighing his decisions. He could kill his mother for the “promotion” he wanted, or leave her alive... but what was the cost if he did so?
Ink was kind enough to answer the question for him. “Remember, kid, we told you this is all or nothing. You do it, and you're part of the Black Dragons forever. If you don't, however... you won't be leaving this room alive.” All or nothing indeed; Zeich knew that this boy was trapped, and had no alternatives; either his mother died, or he did. If the latter choice happened to be chosen, then there was every possibility that the boy's mother would be killed anyway in punishment for his defiance. Coldly and logically, Zeich knew that the boy's only choices were to kill his mother, or turn that gun on his captor. The latter would of course lead to the family's deaths again, but at least they'd take out one of their captors with them. But Zeich was a detached observer, and he knew that in the spur of the moment, cold logic was not nearly as easy as he made it look.
The teen took the gun and, with shaking hands, slowly began to raise it, pointing it towards the woman. His grip on the gun was poor, and the first shot would probably miss or hit a non-vital spot, Zeich thought as he watched closely, waiting for the moment that would mark his “torture.” But before the boy could shoot, Ink put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and then moved over to the woman. “One moment, kid; this will really put you to the test.” With that, Ink ripped the gag off of the mother's mouth, allowing her to talk again. Yet for a moment she stood paralyzed, terrified by the gun pointed directly towards her by the hands of her shaking son. Then she spoke, and suddenly Zeich understood.
“Please... Zeich, no...!”
The gunshot that rang out was too loud, and at the same time, Zeich barely heard it over the suddenly rapid beating of his own heart. His head spun again, and he reached out to try and steady himself as his mind worked through what had just happened. Blood... blood stained the couch like a crimson mantle draped over it, but there was more than that; the sick crack of bone as the metal slug penetrated the skull and the muffled gasp that came from the woman's throat seemed to echo and distort in the Vizard's senses. His stomach turned, and he felt as though he would be ill. Suddenly, the boy's familiarity became all too evident; Zeich was looking at a far younger version of himself.
But things did not end there. Even as the woman gasped, the wound fatal in nature yet the soul still clinging to life, the boy suddenly turned the gun on himself. Zeich, reflexively, moved to stop his younger self as though it would do something, only to find that he couldn't move. He could only watch as the teen put the gun to his mouth and pulled the trigger. Once more the shot rang out, but instead of beating faster, Zeich's heart seemed to stop for a moment, leaving him feeling dizzy as he watched himself collapse in a spray of blood, the crimson liquid pooling on the ground beneath him. It was then that Zeich understood what Tsukikage wanted to show him: how he died, and the sin he bore at the time of his death.
“You know, I had a front-row seat to all of this...” Tsukikage spoke smugly in Zeich's ear even as the image froze with the boy lying on the ground, dead as could be. “I was just lurking around the area, and happened to watch you die... I had planned on simply devouring your soul and your mother's before being on my way.” The Hollow laughed, pleased as he recalled the memory. “Ah, but that's ancient history. I'm sure you don't care about your death, or your mother's; you've always been so practical, am I right? Surely, this is nothing to you...”
“Shut up!” The words exploded from Zeich angrily as he reached for the mask covering his face, trying to rip it off. “That wasn't real! It's a trick, a torture! You're lying, it's as simple as that!” He couldn't get the mask off, it wouldn't budge! And all the while, Tsukikage's laughter rang out around him, the wolf's glee at Zeich's sudden horror evident. The Hollow was delighting in his jailor's torment, constantly goading him on. “Is it, boy? Only I know the truth of that day...”
Suddenly the world seemed to tilt, and Zeich sat up, feeling cloth beneath his hands and the cool night air flowing over his body. He was back in bed, awake after that long meditative session. Had it truly been an hour? Somehow, it seemed like far more. The Vizard shook, his body soaked with sweat, and his nerves shot. Laying back down, it was all he could do to not curl up in fear. What was that? Was that vision real? No, Zeich hadn't killed his own mother... had he? He didn't know; the Vizard couldn't remember anything from before waking up in Soul Society. It was common for souls to forget their living lives after moving on to Soul Society, and Zeich had been no exception. But now he wanted to know, to find out if Tsukikage's vision was a truth or a carefully-crafted lie. But more than a century after his initial death, Zeich knew that there was no one alive still who would have been there to know. Only one person knew the truth of that day... and the Vizard doubted that Tsukikage would ever tell, if he hadn't already.
Rolling over in bed, Zeich pulled the covers over him, closing his eyes and trying to block out the images still in his head. He was soon asleep, though rest would only come with nightmares for the remainder of the evening.
