Chapter 66

The winds roared, gales the likes of which could engulf the world twice over in their ferocity wreaking chaos.

A muffled groan could be heard in the breeze, but in the end it mattered little as Shirou tightened his grip over Yhwach's face and hurled him across the distance. Spittle flew, before the deafening crash of an explosion echoed out.

A single crater had formed several feet deep, and stretching a vast distance with spiraling cracks and black fissures.

Hovering in the air, Shirou held no notion that this was all it would take to defeat one such as Yhwach.

In the confines of his own world, Shirou should have had all the confidence to curb any foe, and yet the adversary before him could also be considered a God of his own world.

A pillar of spiritual light burst threw the cloud of debris, reaching out towards the heavens and erupting with a suffocating pressure. Fingers pierced through the surface of the center of the crater, searching for purchase, and once they did, they pulled.

Shaking his head to free it of dust and grime which fell from tousled hair, Yhwach was grinning before he hoisted himself up onto his feet.

"How quaint. How marvelous. This world brims with untapped potential," Yhwach murmured, staring across the vastness of what was truly known as Unlimited Blade Works. "It seeks to supplant the laws of reality and replace it with its own. This power, this place, it is like none other."

"Flattery gets you nowhere," Shirou spoke while landing opposite to Yhwach. His sole goal was to keep Yhwach away, and he figured this place as good as any.

Yhwach dusted himself off, shadowed eyes all staring upon Shirou's own with a satisfaction born from testing one's self against an equal. "Oh, apologies then. It would seem I find myself a tad loose lipped now that everything is falling into place. The promise of a thousand years, all the blood spilled, all the sacrifices, all of it is coming to a head. Your efforts against me are little more than entertainment. You may control this world, but my strength as the Soul King presiding over all overcomes even that. I am the law."

"Then I am a law breaker. This won't end how you want it."

"Oh," Yhwach narrowed his eyes, channeling spiritual energy through out his body and directing it to his hands. The traditional bow of a Quincy formed, made of azure light, it spanned a height taller than Yhwach himself. "And what makes you say that?"

"Because I'm beginning to think that we may be more alike in some ways that I don't feel too comfortable with."

In Shirou's own hands, a black bow taller than he was high had formed from spiritual energy, seemingly mirroring Yhwach's own.

"Truly, men who achieve greatness have to be similar in one way or two," Yhwach felt the corners of his lips tug upward while his actions mimicked Shirou's own.

The two both notched arrows filled to the brim with power, their features hardening, muscles going taut.

Their battle began not with a rain of steel and arrows, but with the explosion of space distorting.

Leaping high in to the air, Shirou shot a volley of twisted arrows to counter Yhwach's own, his mind directing a flurry of blades scattered across his inner world to pelt Yhwach in his blind spots.

Maneuvering himself, Yhwach struck down every shot. The swords deployed in his blind spots were equally rebuffed by Yhwach's own spiritual constructs.

Similar to Tracing, the strength of a Quincy was in his or her ability to leach off Spiritual Energy and mold it to their will. This enabled a wide degree of versatility offset only by the lack of uniqueness possessed by the constructs.

"Tch," Shirou clicked his tongue before opening his right palm where a sword immediately placed itself to fire. He didn't have to concern himself with ammunition. The moment he required more, a blade would dislodge itself from the earth and into his grip.

He fired, and fired, and fired, the skies rocketing with innumerable explosions which produced shockwaves and stifling pressure.

Digging his heel into a platform of air, he back spun and shifted from an arrow set to strike his face. In the same motion, he leveled his bow horizontally, notched three arrows and fired back point blank at Yhwach's stunned face.

Yhwach's bow came up to meet his, the two bows clashing and diverting the trajectory of the arrows. Grimacing, the two disengaged, pulled back, and then slashed at each other with sword formed in their right hands which both shattered upon contact. The fragments burst past the sides of their faces, leaving cuts and abrasions.

"Not bad," Yhwach commented.

"No, I'm just getting started," Shirou said tonelessly, neutrality bleeding into his tone.

A sword is unfeeling.

A sword knows no mercy nor consequence.

"I am the bone of my sword."

Shirou reached out, gripping onto Yhwach's arm with a vice-like grip, fingers digging into flesh.

Yhwach reacted by trying to cut Shirou's arm off, but what resulted was nothing less than disbelief as the clang of steel resounded. Sparks flew, the tiny embers fleeting and lighting up the features of both men, one grimacing, the other lacking emotion.

"Steel is my body-"

Yhwach pressed harder, piercing through skin, only to frown when the heat of flames lapped over his face.

"Fire is my blood."

Shirou's grip tightened, the skin of his pierced flesh revealing thousands upon thousands of razor-sharp blades knitting the tissue back together. The ominous sound of clinking metal had never felt so foreign, so unnerving from unflinching bronze eyes.

Despite possessing the power of the Soul King, even Yhwach still bled. Changing the world at one's whims was entirely different to changing the structure of one's physical body. One would think it would be simple as spiritual beings were constructs of spiritual energy given form and life, but Yhwach was a Quincy: a mortal, not a spirit. His body wasn't so malleable, and he'd initially thought the same of Shinigami and Shirou in general.

Otherwise, if Shinigami could freely alter their bodies, they could save themselves from mortal wounds. Even Blut Vein only worked to make the body more durable by flooding one's veins with spiritual energy.

The distinct clanking of metal grating continued to echo in the air.

This was different.

"What are you?" Yhwach uttered.

The flames flickering within bronze eyes stared up into Yhwach's own, the fingers of Shirou's grip, near blade like in sharpness and digging into Yhwach's flesh. Gripping tighter, blood spurted as bone snapped, and flesh was wrought from the sinew. A sick squelching noise resounded, Yhwach's grasped forearm going limp.

Unperturbed, Yhwach continued to stare. "What are you?" he repeated again.

What was he?

Shirou began to consider it. He was dead, memories of his own demise in his human life coming to the forefront of his mind. Then, came the acknowledgment that he may not even be in his own world. However, there was a name for spirits that fought on even in death, immortalized upon a throne beyond the reaches of time and space; they who perform miracles powered through legend, revered by all.

"A good question," Shirou lifted his left arm up, dismissing his bow in favour of a sword calling out to him. It shone in his grip, the weapon representing his ideal, and the one who had first fought by his side. "What am I? I'll tell you!"

"I fight not for the sake of vanity!" Shirou shoved Yhwach away, pulling at Yhwach's debilitated arm and hurling him a good distance.

"I fight not for the sake of pride or rambunctious purpose!"

The sword was raised, shining with a glow akin to the stars stared upon from up high, basking all in the radiance of twilight. Nay, a guiding beacon.

Behind him, thousands of swords rose up, each shattering through an influx of magic energy and igniting into phosphorus-like amalgamations of power, burning like the sun.

"Do you believe in heroes?" Shirou queried.

"Nothing more than childish tales and drivel derived from the actions of past Shinigami and Quincy alike," Yhwach scoffed raising his guard and allowing shadows to stretch and form an army. His debilitated arm was covered by darkness, then once more revealed to be in perfect condition. "Your question answers nothing!"

"That's where you're wrong."

"No, that's where I'm right. I can see, I can hear, I can feel where once I had had nothing, and yours is an existence that I can infer is almost identical. Stripped of emotion, of purpose, of direction, you like myself started as nothing more than a husk knowing not the meaning of your own existence! Your rambling, your misdirection, means nothing to me other than a distraction from what you truly are!"

"What I truly am?"

"Neither truly Hollow, Shinigami, or Quincy…an amalgamation." Yhwach frowned, unable to discern the enigma before him.

Shirou just shook his head. If one were trying to define him through just this present world's standards alone, they'd get nowhere. To begin with, when he'd first been found by Coyote in soul form, he wasn't really an ordinary spirit, but something more:

A Heroic Spirit.

"Legend breeds strength! Strength funnels reason into cause!" Shirou charged forward, sword in hand. The countless broken phantasms at his back followed suit, showering down like comets to clash against the encroaching shadows.

If a Heroic Spirit embodies their legend as the source of their power and feats of impossibility, then the question of who he was, what he stood for, was long since known.

"Who am I? What am I? Don't you already know?!" Shirou gritted his teeth, pushing through Yhwach's aura to arrive before him and clash swords of spiritual energy.

The sheer force was enough to blow away all the shadows at once to reveal the stunned man beneath.

"This power…"

"I have created over a thousand blades!"

Motes of golden light danced, one sword equaling the weight of thousands upon thousands combined. For this was what this world was and will ever be.

The swords in this plane, the weapons of yonder lore, the spirits of those who shed their blood, sweat, and tears, he was their symbol, their embodiment.

No. Not only that. There existed one more aspect of what now defined him as a whole, tying into the name and legend carved out in this new world.

"I…Am the Vasto of White! Lord of Hueco Mundo, Sovereign of Hollows!"

The hole pierced through his chest began to fill until it was complete. That missing part of him, that which propagated the emptiness, all along it had been proof of what he had been lacking.

It was through acknowledgment that he shed his doubt. It no longer mattered to seek a purpose, or to divine his own. The path was clear.

"Light of selection, glories of the past, the armoury stands strong! Unite and gather!"

/-/

The scene breaks away if only for a moment, revealing the flickering glow of all the weapons within the entire expanse. Spiritual energy pooled, gathering and congregating into a free-flowing swirl.

The spirits of the Zanpakutos, acknowledged it all at once.

Let it be so.

They shut their eyes, and allowed themselves to be drawn over towards one place.

This feeling…

Yamamoto, Kisuke, and the other Shinigami looked to the distant sky, nay up high into the bronze horizon.

The squall of a phoenix resounded, pinioned wings stretching forth and gliding into the dawn.

"…So, he has even that," Kisuke pushed down the rim of his box hat and whispered lowly.

"The Sokyoku," Yamamoto murmured, before his attention was drawn to the smoldering flames of Ryujin Jakka trailing behind. The sight of his own partner rooted him in place far more than his own exhausted state.

"Kisuke," Yoruichi warned.

"Yeah. I know. It's going to be a dangerous game were playing, but as an 'ally,' he really is the only one we can count on."

If there was someone that could help, anyone that could make a difference, grudgingly it would be the Vasto of White. Of this, Kisuke had no doubts.

"Just be glad he's against Yhwach," Shunsui whistled, having stayed behind to guard Yamamoto, Unohana, and the other injured. "I really don't know how we'd face that. He even has the support of our own Zanpakuto."

"What a monster," Yoruichi had no other words. This was an entity never before seen rivaling Yhwach at his strongest blow for blow.

"He is not a monster," a gentle and regal voice interjected.

All glanced towards the figure of a woman garbed in royal blue with plate armour and golden motifs. Her honey-coloured hair was almost wheat-like in the lighting, the warm teal of her eyes belying a nobility and status of a ruler.

Everyone tensed, but the woman seemed to harbour them no ill will and chose instead to continued watching until such a time as she was called to.

"A Zanpakuto spirit?" Kisuke was the first to perk up, running through all the information he had of types of Zanpakuto, yet unable to pinpoint this Zanpakuto spirit's specific type.

"Then what else would you view a hollow as him as?" Yamamoto questioned gruffly.

For a moment, a tender nostalgia assailed the spirit, before she regarded them all with full surety.

"A Hero," was all she said.

/-/

"Unite and gather!"

Shirou called upon it. In this world, every being without doubt possessed their own Zanpakuto. The same could be said for Hollows as well as Shinigami. He who had entered this world as a Hollow had never once tried to get in touch with his own out of a lack of necessity.

The light of the Sokyoku gliding at his back and merging into the blade in his hands all but signified the beginning of the end.

His inner world wasn't the domain of a single Zanpakuto, but many. In which case, what sort of Zanpakuto did he have, if not an assimilation of all that existed within him.

"Forge and temper: La Armeria (The Armoury)."

Spiritual energy encompassed him in full, the light of his magic circuits igniting and awashing him in an unrelenting aura. The world itself seemed to mold to his being, conforming into a blade with the aspect of half of his soul as a basis.

The rapid accumulation of spiritual energy resulted in a pulsating ring of light that expanded outward before a shockwave ensued. Dirt and debris rained down, pelting over the ground and mottling it with holes, followed by clattering steel from shattered blades.

Yhwach was forced to shield himself, the density of his shadows snuffed out. His arms raised up to cover his face, his eyes pursed as he peeked through the gaps between his arms.

As the dust cleared, he stifled a gasp.

"This ends now, Yhwach," a metallic voice pierced through the calm. "I will stop you here, and leave Aizen and the rest to retake the Soul King's Palace."

"You think this is over, but it's only just begun! You place so much faith in your allies ignorant to settle even the treachery you've allowed to fester in your own ranks! An army without discipline, without unity, is no capable army! They will fail for certain!"

No answer. In fact, there was no way to properly express the sheer height of naivety Yhwach could describe such blind trust with.

"I believe in them."

"And that's what makes you and I different. Everything that I know, I've experienced through the eyes and actions of others. I know of human nature better than all, and mark my words!"

Yhwach narrowed his eyes, taking them away from Shirou's new form to stare in mocking anticipation at the Soul King's Palace.

"You may be able to keep me here, but in the end, you'll see treachery for yourself! The very justice that demanded the erection of a propped puppet devoid of his will and power through the machination of five noble families who orchestrated it all for the greater good."

Veins popped over Yhwach's skin. He may be labeled and described as a villain, but from another standpoint, he was a liberator, a revolutionist trying to usher in a better age then this stale and decrepit one.

"See here and listen beyond your blind sense of justice! Am I truly you're enemy?!"

"…" No answer.

"Or is it the snakes hiding behind their guise of righteousness and cooperation?!"

/-/

Inside the bottommost level of the star palace, Baraggan frowned while picking up his pace to catch up to the wayward Zero Squad. Aside from a few minor complications, nothing could truly impede him. It may have just been by design or through intention, but Yhwach hadn't lined the interior of the palace with dark shadows, choosing instead to leave it vacant.

Sure, there were obstacles and barriers in the way, but most of those things proved of little use once they came in contact with Baraggan's domain over aging. Then there were the patrolling members of the Quincy, no names Baraggan speculated were only around to inform the Sternritter of any breaches to the palace at large.

Considering that the Zero Squad had opted to take a subtler path into the palace, the Quincy weren't yet into much of a frenzy. Besides, knowing Yhwach, it was likely that he would have left a safety measure in the throne room of the palace where the Soul King had been entrapped.

Bangs and shockwaves reverberated throughout, dust falling from the ceiling, and onto Baraggan's head where it faded out of existence.

Where are you hiding? What are you keeping hidden from this King?

Baraggan had never trusted the Shinigami from the start, and although he couldn't get a grasp on Shirou's true thoughts on them, he quite agreed with Aizen's method of treating them as disposable energy sources.

A sadistic gleam flickered across Baraggan's hollow sockets when he recalled the events of the Dangai and what he'd achieved within at the Shinigami's expense. However, this didn't last when he recalled that not all Shinigami were indisposed.

The Zero Squad remained strong, and a thorn to Baraggan's side.

To trust in an enemy is a venture worthy of only fools, and look to where it led?

Baraggan balled his hands into fists, and directed more energy to his feet, performing a flurry of rapid movement known as Sonido.

While the members of the Zero Squad could easily bypass most obstacles in the palace out of familiarity, unlike Baraggan, they couldn't just seamlessly rot through objects and barriers alike.

This power over time and death was Baraggan's domain as the king of skulls, and with it, he was quickly gaining ground.

There you all are…

Baraggan began to consider his options all at once, his decision heavily leaning towards ambush and attack. No Shinigami would be an ally of his, and Aizen and his group were the only real exception due to their familiarity with Shirou. As for the rest, Baraggan liked to think that Shirou was only tolerating them. Now that it's gotten to this point, perhaps there was no longer need for tolerance?

All at once, Baraggan readied his axe, coating it in a layer of purple miasma in preparation to act.

He just needed to get a bit closer.

There were five of them, the one with the prayer beads around his neck leading the group forward.

Baraggan considered who he should aim for. The first strike would be the most unexpected, and also the one that could deal the most damage while the people were unaware. Yet, nothing ever seemed to go Baraggan's way.

Call it luck, or the Shinigami's fortune, but one of the Zero Squad members, the fat one noticed his intentions and tensed, while holding up a massive steel spoon.

"Hello…friend," the fat woman spoke cautiously.

Friend?

"Hahahhahahhha," Baraggan couldn't hide his mirth, but belying his deep chortle was frustration.

Slowly, Baraggan put down his axe, grumbling inwardly to himself. He had all the confidence to take them all on, but he'd lost the element of surprise and if he rattled them, he feared that they'd all flee like annoying rats rather than stay in place.

"Did I say some sort of joke?" The fat one confided with her comrades, seeking reassurance while sweat dropping. In the end, her bones would rot just as well as the rest.

"Peace," the man with the prayer beads tried to mediate. Honestly, Baraggan had never bothered learning their names, he couldn't care less.

The entire group of five stopped in order to face Baraggan who halted twenty feet away from them with a final use of Sonido.

Tension plagued the air, and it came in no small way from the purple mist regularly breathed out from Baraggan's breath enveloping the air between them. Structures began to rot and decay, and the eerie manor in which Baraggan merely continued to stare would send shivers down one's spine.

"You are?" the fat one coughed into her hand and tried to be polite despite ribbing from her comrades.

"Death," was the Baraggan's curt answer, eyeing his axe, and then staring back at the Royal Guard.

"Odd name for a Hollow," the afroed one joked.

One touch of Baraggan's hand, and the man would go bald for certain. An amusing thought if anything.

"Enough, Hikifune, Nimaiya," the fat one with prayer beads interjected. "The enemy is the Quincy, there is no need to sour temporary relations with our allies-"

"Funny," Baraggan interjected in this moment. "What allies? I don't seem to recall this arrangement. Refuges more like, hehehheh," the clacking of teeth echoed with the laughter.

The fat man's expression blanked, traces of anger flittering across.

"Ichibei, I think I speak for all of us when I say this Hollow's bad news. He looks ready to kill us," the man with a pompadour drawled.

"A feat not so easy," said the stick of a woman with a golden half-crest crown. "There's five of us, and one of him."

"Indeed, the Palace may have changed somewhat, but its defences remain. It will take some time before the Vasto of White's forces arrive in bulk."

"You see?" the fat man, Ichibei pointed out to Baraggan. "You don't want this conflict. It only wastes the time for both of us. Our priority should be reaching the Soul King's amphitheatre."

"Defences? Alone? You're right. Perhaps I should even the scales?"

"Persistent bastard, there are better fights to pick!" A tick mark formed over the pompadour man's forehead before he drew his blade. "Face it, you're out played!"

"You doubt the power of a God King?" Baraggan stretched out a finger and tapped the side wall of the palace. In an instant, an entire chasm disappeared and became visible to all on the outside. This elicited a sharp intake of breath.

It was one thing for Baraggan to spread his power across the entire battlefield outside where Yhwach's specters hovered in the air, but it was another to focus it on a specific point.

Coyote, Harribel, and Nel were among the first to sense Baraggan's energy, see the breach he'd created within the Soul King's Palace, and Sonido their way over. This left Yhwach's shadows to be left to the Zanpakuto Spirits Shirou summoned.

Inside the palace, it was now four against five.

The expressions on Ichibei and the others faces who worked extensively to build a lead against the others soured immediately, but they weren't at the point where inciting conflict was in their best interest.

"I believe we've started off on the wrong foot," Ichibei balled his hands into fists and restrained his annoyance.

Meanwhile, Nel and Haribel gave Baraggan an inquisitive look while Coyote was far more straight forward. She leveled her revolvers on Ichibei's face.

The two sides gathered, meeting upon a tense impasse until a new straggler jumped through the breach.

A lithe figure landed on her feet, bending her knees to absorb impact, she stared blinking at the current standoff.

Silent made her appearance. It could be reasoned that she had no place here given her current strength, but ever since her encounter with Quilge and Gizel, it was as if there was something drawing her to the palace. A purpose of sorts that she alone had to serve.

Subsequently, three more tag-alongs barrelled through Baraggan's opening.

Ichigo Kurosaki, Karin Kurosaki, and Isshin Shiba arrived, all having chased after Silent.

Suddenly placed in a tense standoff, it was no surprise that everyone was staring at the new arrivals.

Ichibei and the members of the Royal Guard were signalling with their faces for Isshin and the others to quickly reach their side. 'It wasn't safe,' they indicated. Isshin was inclined to agree, already inching towards Ichibei and the others while trying to reach towards his family with his outstretched arms. Ichigo however, wasn't having it, frozen in place while Karin stood uncertain, hesitant.

Ichigo was in another dilemma.

"…Ichigo," Nel called out insistently, all but yelling at him to stand by her.

"Ichigo," Karin pulled on Ichigo's sleeve, prompting his internal dilemma to rise further.

"Ichigo, I don't know what Aizen has done or said to you, but you can't trust them. They're just using you!" Isshin felt like pulling at his hair, missing the irony of the statement when something flickered in Ichibei's eyes. His family was turning into a mess, and the worst part was that Isshin didn't know what to do anymore.

The constant back and forth, had Ichigo frozen. All he wanted to do was protect those dear to him, and now he was finding those he cared for vying for opposite sides.

"I…I, don't-"

One person made the decision for everyone, Silent shaking her head at Isshin, Karin, and Ichigo stepped over to the side of Nel and the others.

"Masaki," Isshin flinched at the glare she was sending him, as if questioning his belief in her judgments.

Ichigo no longer hesitated, and for her part, Karin chose not to either, recalling how human Nel had acted. She wasn't the evil Hollow Vasto Lorde the Seireitei had her and every Hollow out to be. No, that stereotype fell onto Baraggan who was as distrustful and abhorrent of Shinigami as ever. Still, he recognised Silent as part of the Vasto of White's forces, so he maintained silence.

Isshin was the only one left gawking until one more familiar hard glare from Silent had him whipped and marching to file by her side.

Silence ensued.

"I believe this is all misunderstanding," Ichibei stressed once more. "Our goal shouldn't be to quarrel with each other, but to-"

Bang!

A sizzling hole appeared by Ichibei's feet, courtesy of Coyote who'd fired at him directly. If not for Ichibei's own reflexes, that would have been his leg.

"…I see. Then I suppose you're all fine with making the Vasto of White stall for longer than he needs to?" This time Ichibei's words had an effect. "The more time goes on, the stronger Yhwach grows from his leaching of the Soul King's power. Your Vasto of White is strong, but what is Hueco Mundo's power compared to both the Human world and the Soul Society?"

"Work with us," Hikifune pressed, seeing Ichibei's words getting through to some degree.

"And why should we?" Harribel spat coldly.

"Because we know the fastest way…now how about it?"

The seconds ticked on into minutes.

Well, played.

Baraggan sneered inwardly, seeing the stances of Harribel and the others gradually soften.

"Peace? Or draw this out and increase the burden on the Vasto of White?"

The answer was already obvious.

For once, Baraggan lamented the absence of that man with glib tongue.

Where was Aizen when you needed him?

-The sound of glass shattering in the air echoed, seemingly outside of anyone's perception.

The answer may be closer than it seemed.