The border zone between the First District of West Rukongai and the Seireitei.
The towering walls of the Seireitei gleamed with a cold, silver radiance under the moonlight. On the opposite side lay the low, squat houses of Rukongai. An invisible line divided the two—a desolate boundary that no soul dared approach.
Suddenly, the shadows on the ground began to distort. It was not a mere shift in light, but the darkness itself writhing like a disturbed pool of black water. The distortion grew more violent until two figures emerged from the gloom, stepping out as if wading ashore from the depths of the abyss.
Haschwalth's long golden hair caught the moonlight as it fell over his shoulders. His azure eyes scanned the surroundings, cold and serene. Quilge stood behind him, towering over Haschwalth with his broad shoulders and rigid, upright posture. Glancing at the overgrown weeds around them, Quilge wore a faint expression of indifference.
"So this is the Soul Society?" His voice was low and steady, entirely devoid of inflection. "More desolate than I expected."
Haschwalth remained silent. He merely stood there, his gaze piercing through the wild grass to lock onto the distant walls of the Seireitei.
Their drop point had been meticulously chosen. The interior of the Seireitei was too heavily populated; materializing directly inside risked immediate detection, making stealth impossible. Therefore, a pocket space had been carved out along the perimeter, allowing them to emerge in this neutral zone. This allowed them to bypass the Seireitei's surveillance while remaining close enough to their target.
Haschwalth watched for a moment before withdrawing his gaze. "Let us proceed."
He stepped forward, and Quilge followed silently. The two made their way westward along their designated route, the night wind sweeping past and tugging at the hems of their white cloaks as they fluttered gently under the moon.
"Our objective is to investigate what transpired at that location and identify the force spying on the Wandenreich," Haschwalth said, his tone perfectly flat and detached. "Annihilate them all if possible. If the situation proves unfavorable, capture a few alive. We will decide our next move once we have interrogated them."
The corner of Quilge's mouth curled slightly into a faint, cruel smirk. "My Schrift, 'J'—The Jail. It is perfectly suited for such a task."
Haschwalth nodded. "Your ability can restrain anyone. We need living subjects, which is precisely why I brought you along."
Quilge offered no further reply, continuing to shadow him in silence.
In the distance, several figures appeared at the edge of the tall grass. They were patrolling Soul Reapers from the Seireitei, clad in black Shihakusho with Zanpakuto slung at their waists, making their rounds along the perimeter. Their Spiritual Pressure was weak—mere low-ranking officers.
Haschwalth didn't halt, nor did he quicken his pace. With a slight shift of his stance, he led Quilge into the shadow of a grove of withered trees. The darkness washed over them like flowing water, swallowing them whole.
The patrolling Soul Reapers marched right past the dead trees, sensing absolutely nothing amiss. Moments later, the duo emerged from another shadow, already well clear of the patrol route.
Deep within the desolate mountains lay the Garganta experimental base.
A thin mist hung over the barren valley, completely isolated from the outside world by a barrier erected by Aizen. Without the exact coordinates beforehand, one could fly directly overhead and notice nothing out of the ordinary.
Tosen Kaname stood in the center of the research area, facing the laboratory equipment slated for retrieval. The glow of the Reishi lamps cast a dull, gray shadow across his features. His hands moved deftly over the spell matrix foundation, dismantling and erasing the intricate magical formulations.
Lord Aizen had ordered him to lead a squad today to recover the equipment and purge any trace of their experiments. Hasumi Ren had not accompanied him; Aizen had taken him to another facility to familiarize him with the Hogyoku experiments. Tosen felt a slight pang of bittersweet jealousy in his heart, though he kept his face expressionless. He simply checked the machinery over and over, ensuring nothing was overlooked.
Several accompanying squad members busied themselves around the area. Some dismantled the barrier nodes, others hauled crates of equipment, while a few wiped the final experimental logs. Their movements were swift and practiced, a clear sign they had done this many times before.
"Lord Tosen, the barrier at node three has been completely dismantled," a subordinate approached to report.
Tosen nodded. "Continue. See to it that not a single trace remains."
"Understood." The subordinate turned and departed.
Tosen stood in place, opening his senses to his surroundings. The ambient Spiritual Pressure was stable. The wind sounded normal, devoid of any strange noise. Everything was perfectly ordinary.
Yet, a persistent unease gnawed at him. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but a primal, intuitive dread gripped him. It felt as though something was lurking in the dark, watching his every move. Shaking his head to dispel the sensation, he resumed his work.
Right then, his senses caught a sharp anomaly.
An arrow of Reishi erupted from the darkness, precisely piercing the chest of the squad member closest to him.
Tosen's pupils dilated in shock. Unsheathing his blade, his Spiritual Pressure erupted instantly as he deflected a barrage of Reishi arrows targeting him. By the time he moved to aid his subordinates, it was already too late. Arrow after arrow rained down from all directions, hitting every single squad member with surgical precision. Within seconds, every subordinate lay dead on the ground.
Leaving only Tosen standing alone in the center of the facility. He pushed his senses to their absolute limits, desperately trying to pinpoint the attackers.
"Who's there?!" His voice echoed through the valley, thick with suppressed rage.
No one answered. Only the thin mist drifted silently beneath the moon.
Then, two distinct Spiritual Pressures entered his awareness. One was cold and crystalline, carrying an inexplicable aura of absolute order, while the other was more grounded, like a suppressed undercurrent. Tosen gripped his Zanpakuto tighter, lowering his stance to brace for combat.
Two figures stepped out from the mist. Their strides were leisurely, their frigid eyes sweeping over the scattered machinery without a hint of emotion.
"Indeed, this is the place," Haschwalth said calmly. "It appears they are researching space-related technology. Though I wonder how they managed to detect us."
The tall man behind him, also dressed in a white uniform, bore a severe expression. Quilge's gaze scanned the area before landing on Tosen, sizing him up with detached scrutiny.
"To think these fellows would break so easily. Leaving a single survivor... should be more than enough, right?" Quilge sneered. "That one looks like the person with the highest authority here, and he seems to possess some skill."
Haschwalth nodded. "Subdue him."
Tosen's Spiritual Pressure surged once more. Locking his focus onto the pair, his mind raced. They had come prepared, possessing bizarre methods and knowing exactly that this place conducted spatial research. They hadn't stumbled in by accident; they were here with intent.
But who were they? This wasn't how Soul Reapers fought. Those Reishi arrows, that peculiar Spiritual Pressure... why did it bear such a striking resemblance to the Quincy clan, who were supposedly eradicated over a century ago?
'Intruders,' Tosen instantly deduced. 'Quincy intruders have breached the Seireitei.'
'But why target this specific location? Will their actions interfere with Lord Aizen's plans?' Tosen couldn't fathom it, and now was not the time for contemplation. The enemy stood right before him, having already slaughtered his entire squad.
Griting his teeth, Tosen made a split-second decision. Though the tall man in white was dangerous, the true commander was clearly the person standing behind him. He needed to capture the leader first.
Taking a deep breath, his Spiritual Pressure began to fluctuate violently. "Bankai."
The blade of Suzumushi dissolved into a ring of light, scattering outward to construct the domain of his Bankai. Darkness instantly swallowed the entire research facility. No light, no sound, no sensory input whatsoever. Only an endless void of blackness, spreading outward like a rising tide.
Suzumushi Nishiki: Enma Korogi.
Haschwalth halted. Standing in the absolute blackness, he looked around, his expression remaining indifferent. "An intriguing ability," he murmured softly.
Quilge stood before him, alertly trying to sense his surroundings. He expanded his Spiritual Pressure to catch Tosen's location, but within this shroud of darkness, even spiritual perception was completely severed.
"What is this power... Haschwalth, are you there?" A touch of gravity finally entered his voice.
Yet, he received no reply. He couldn't even hear his own voice. Quilge held his ground warily, refusing to make a reckless move as he waited for Tosen's assault.
Tosen's target, however, was not him.
Through the pitch-black void, a sharp blade lunged from the flank. Without so much as turning his head, Haschwalth merely shifted his weight. The edge of the blade grazed his cloak, leaving him unharmed.
Tosen struck again. Flashes of cold steel slashed at Haschwalth from every direction, each blow packing a fierce concentration of Spiritual Pressure. This time, however, Haschwalth did not evade them all. He made a conscious effort to dodge, but his movements yielded no results.
The blade tore through the darkness, cleaving straight into Haschwalth's flesh. Tosen felt his sword bite into solid muscle and bone.
'A hit? So the enemy is nothing special after all.'
Tosen forcefully plunged his blade into the abdomen of the man before him. With such a devastating wound, the intruder should be rendered completely helpless.
'Secure this one first, then subdue the other. That way—'
Before Tosen could execute his next move, a searing agony erupted in his own abdomen. Horrified, he clamped a hand over the source of the intense pain as blood erupted violently.
"Gah!"
Tosen spat a mouthful of crimson and collapsed onto one knee. All across his body, numerous wounds of varying sizes began to split open. And these injuries mirrored perfectly, in position and severity, the exact strikes he had just inflicted upon his enemy.
His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as blood poured from his body. He had clearly struck his opponent, so why was he the one bearing the wounds?
The enemy's ability was too bizarre, far beyond anything he could comprehend.
Gritting his teeth, Tosen channeled his Spiritual Pressure in a desperate attempt to stabilize his injuries. But the gashes were too deep, and his energy was bleeding out rapidly. He realized he was utterly powerless to reverse his condition.
'No, I must escape. I have to inform Lord Aizen that such a formidable adversary has infiltrated the Seireitei.'
Forcing himself back to his feet, Tosen attempted to use the cover of his Bankai to flee toward the perimeter of the facility. His figure darted through the absolute blackness. The surrounding darkness was beginning to fray; his depleted Spiritual Pressure could no longer sustain the Bankai.
Footsteps echoed from behind. They were soft and measured, yet drawing relentlessly closer. Tosen's heart sank into an abyss. The pursuer was tracking him with uncanny accuracy through the void, as if his vision were unimpeded.
Tosen tried to accelerate, but his mangled body held him back. Every step aggravated his torn flesh, leaving a long, crimson trail in his wake.
The footsteps drew nearer. A flash of sword light slashed from behind; Tosen barely managed to twist his torso aside, but the tip of the blade still ripped across his back. He stumbled forward blindly, crashing heavily into the dirt.
The Bankai collapsed, and the moonlight spilled over the valley once more.
Vision returning to normal, Quilge turned his head to see the gravely wounded Tosen sprawled on the ground, with Haschwalth standing over him, slowly sheathing his sword.
Quilge sauntered over to Tosen, his lips twisting into a mocking, biting smile. "Had you chosen to attack me, you might have actually stood a chance of harming me," his voice carried a sharp chill. "But you chose to strike him instead... Ignorance truly breeds recklessness."
Lying on the ground with his abdominal wound still bleeding profusely, Tosen managed to rasp out, "Who... exactly are you?" His voice was hoarse and faint. But no one offered an answer.
Unwilling to yield, Tosen spoke again, resentment lacing his tone. "How did you find my position? Inside my Bankai, you shouldn't have been able to perceive a single thing."
A brief silence ensued. Then, Haschwalth's voice floated down from above, flat as though discussing an utterly trivial matter.
"I simply picked a random direction to walk, and swung my sword. It just so happened that the scales of fortune tipped in my favor. I chose the correct path, and happened to strike you in the process. It seems you are simply unfortunate."
Tosen froze. Good fortune?
Tosen did not comprehend Haschwalth's ability, known as The Balance. Haschwalth had accumulated the misfortune of being struck by Tosen and converted it into the fortune of making the right choice, guiding him straight toward Tosen's flight path. Furthermore, all the physical damage Tosen inflicted had been entirely absorbed by Haschwalth's Freund Shield and subsequently redirected back onto his attacker.
Faced with such an absurdly broken mechanic, Tosen's sensory deprivation was reduced to an absolute joke. This was an opponent he could never hope to defeat. Had he chosen to flee the very moment he activated his Bankai, he might have retained a sliver of hope for survival.
Yet, Tosen could not have known. He had merely made what appeared to be the most logical choice based on his current assessment.
"What kind of... nonsense is that..." Tosen muttered, his voice steeped in bitterness and a trace of fury at being toyed with.
In the next heartbeat, Tosen suddenly whipped his blade up toward his own neck. He clearly recalled their earlier conversation—they were here to take prisoners. He could not allow himself to fall into their hands.
But Quilge, watching closely, seized the opening and kicked the Zanpakuto clean out of Tosen's grasp. The sword flipped through the air several times before clattering onto the ground with a sharp metallic ring.
"Attempting suicide? You've got some nerve," Quilge remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He drove his boot hard into Tosen's abdomen.
Tosen's body convulsed as he coughed up another spray of blood, collapsing heavily onto the ground as his consciousness plunged into darkness.
Quilge raised his saber, pointing the tip directly at Tosen. A surge of blue Spiritual Pressure erupted from the blade, morphing into a web of intricate chains that tightly bound Tosen's wrists and ankles.
"He won't be breaking out of my jail," he said, stepping back and dusting off his hands. "Once he wakes up, you can interrogate him however you please."
Haschwalth nodded. His gaze drifted across the dismantled laboratory apparatus, the sealed spell matrix foundations, and the documents they had abandoned in their haste. Everything here indicated that someone was conducting highly sophisticated spatial research in absolute secrecy.
"It appears there are no further clues here. We shall take him and these documents back to extract what information we can. Clean up this area. Leave no traces that point back to us Quincy."
Quilge nodded, hoisting Tosen up as he began clearing the vicinity.
Haschwalth cast one final look at the research zone. Under the pale moonlight, the thin mist drifted slowly, making the abandoned machinery appear phantom-like through the haze. Withdrawing his gaze, he turned and stepped toward the shadows. Quilge followed closely behind, carrying Tosen's limp form.
Their figures dissolved into the darkness like water blending into water, vanishing without a sound.
Silence returned to the valley. The facility was left in ruins, littered with scattered and broken apparatus. The moonlight streamed down, illuminating Tosen's discarded Zanpakuto. The blade trembled faintly, reflecting a cold, desolate gleam, as if weeping in silence.
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