The Power of my Soul!

[Endgame]

The throne room of Hueco Mundo sat silent, for the throne itself sat empty, save the dust gathering upon it. It was empty, not because there was no one to sit upon it, but because the one who held that right believed in action, not words. But where was the rightful King of the Hollow realm?

Rythmic footfalls beat a steady drumbeat upon the ground, a drumbeat echoed by Grimmjow's own racing heartbeat as he ran, hunched upon all fours, a wild grin adorning his sharp, greying features. Waist-length grey hair trailed it's way behind him, uncut and unkempt. Deep furrows marred a once carefree face, the scars of an enemy that can never be overcome: Time.

He ran, directionless, no destination in mind. He ran because he was: because he existed, and was alive, in a sense, and so he acted. He ran because it was better then admiting to himself that there was, quite simply, nothing of importance or value for him to do. A King's role is to take action, as far as Grimmjow Jaggerjacks was concerned, and with his world co-existing in relative peace with Soul Society, this was the only action he could take.

His subjects stopped to watch as a white blur and a trail of dust shot past them. They murmered amongst themselves in the otherworldly, distorted voices of Hollows: There goes King Grimmjow, dashing off again. But where is he going, that demands such urgency? Surely, they reasoned, their King was ever-busy, working to protect them and their world.

Grimmjow was oblivious to his accidental act, and it's effect upon his downtrodden race's morale. Indeed, if not for his constant, pent-up, impaitent energy, his subjects may have long fallen into a dreary apathy.



His counterpart, 1st Division Captain of the 13 Protection Squads, Kurosaki Ichigo, likewise gave unintentional inspiration to his men. It was not action through, that inspired Soul Society, but Legacy. Their leader was Kurosaki Ichigo, the Subsitute Shinigami who had defeated seasoned Captains of Soul Society. The legendary Shinigami who had mastered Bankai in only three days, and gone on to battle the Arrancar on their home ground. With power like that behind them, they reasoned, who would challenge them?

Ichigo himself, however, could not match the enthusiasm of his peers. Day after day, he sealed himself away in the highest reaches of Seretei's pure white towers, brooding over events long past. Isolated from the Court of Pure Souls, he gave no command, made no rulings. That was left to a once-young, now middle-aged Hitsugaya Toushiro. Instead, the 1st Division Captain lost himself in his own memories, wondering how things might have been different. Most of all, he lost himself in unanswerable questions: One question in particular.

Would his friends have forgiven him for failing to protect them?

Were they still alive today, would they still call him 'Friend', after seeing what he had become to defeat Ulquiorra?

What he could become again?

Ichigo had thought the monster within him conquered up until that point. He had thought himself free of it's... Of his darkness. Now, once again, he lived in fear of his own power. Of what might happen if he lost control.

"To me, Kurosaki Ichigo, your sword speaks only of absurd fear. Can't you see my desire to cut you reflected in my sword?"

He shook off the memory of yet another ghost of his past. The time for such words was long gone. He had been trained in the face of threat, as a weapon against an unknown enemy: A weapon that he had, indeed, become. The man he had named 'Master' had taught him only the movements of battle, but not the wisdom that came hand in hand with those teachings.

How could Soul Society function, he asked himself, when it's ruler was not fit to rule?



"Forgive me for my sin."

The cloaked figure's deep voice rung with an eerie melody, hypnotic some would say. He stood over the bodies of four Shinigami, a wickedly sharp claw sliding back into the black folds of his sleeve, still dripping the spiritual equivilent of blood. Spiritual 'Blood' likewise coated the front of his robes, and the deep holes in the chest of his victims spoke for it's purpose. In the spiritual world, there were to paths to power. One was to train your control over your own spirit, to learn to use it as effectivly as your own body. This was the path taken by Shinigami. The other path, that of the Hollow, was far simpler: Consume spiritual particles from your environment: or from other souls, and add them to your own.

"I can't allow you to decide our fate any longer. This is the path I have chosen: to defend my people. I will see it through, even at the cost of my own life... or worse."

The latter was left unspoken as he knelt over the bodies and lowered his face to them.

[King Wolfe]

Ryu laid lazily on the grass. "Ah! I'm so bored.." he said aloud. The wind flowed, pushing his hair down to his eyes. There wasn't much activity these days, at least to Ryu there hasn't. He thought of his friends, "Hm. Being alive sounds appealing now." he put his straw hat over his face, and fell into deep sleep.

OOC: Don't know what to put..

[Dark Heart 2]

Beautiful. Simply beautiful, was the thought of Enzeru Debiru. As usual, he was lying back atop the Academy's roof, gazing at the horizon as the sun began inching its way passed the mountains. Orange and pink hues, often products of dawn, could be found splashed across the sky and the numerous clouds, almost as if an artist flung paint all across a canvas. Enzeru always found awe and inspiration in the natural beauty of life, whether it be a mighty tree standing firm against the howling winds of the north, or something as majestic as a mountain goat gracefully ascending a stone wall. Even the light reflecting off of the waters below was just gorgeous. Many would argue this point, but in Enzeru's opinion, there was no greater artist than the God that created the universe and all life within it.

Today was Graduation. On this day, most other students in the Academy were on edge, unable to contain their anxiety. However, Enzeru was one of the only few who seemed to be able to keep his nerves together. Apathy was not the cuase of this, though. When one experienced the things and events that he had in the real world, compared to this it was nothing. He actually found it rather funny how nervous everyone seemed to be. One of the few friends that he had made acquaintance with was going absolutely crazy. Perhaps the simple truth was that Enzeru was quite confident of what today's turnout would be. He was not cocky, nor overconfident, however he had this gut feeling that this day was going to be in his favor. After all of the insults, all the backstabbing, everyone that looked down upon him... this day would make it all worth it. Yet would it change anything in the long run? For the truth of the matter was, these things happened to him because of his own doing, or rather his reiatsu's.

Withdrawing his blade, he merely stared at it, showing no emotion. If anything, he was a little frustrated. Why him, of all people? Why did he have what all the teachers, Captains, and Lieutenants called 'unusual' reaitsu? Whatever the heck it was, it was no doubt the cause of his Zanpakuto to be manifested into this state. The blade was snapped in half.

It has been stated that the form, the shape, the size of one's Zanpakuto was a representation of their reiatsu, their power. If that was the case, was there something wrong with his own? So many questions, and every time he tried to ask somebody with an understanding of the matter, they either smiled and avoided answering or gave him a snide look. He cursed himself. And then again. Due to his work on Earth, he was always used to being alone, but having rumors and lies spread about himself was not something that happened before. Not that he really cared, but it did get quite annoying at times. Funny thing was, he was capable of being both the strongest, and weakest, Shinigami in the Academy. His reiatsu fluctuated to the extreme. One moment, it would skyrocket, leaving him with a power high that could allow him to overcome any obstacle or opponent. Shortly after, it would sink so low that one would wonder how he could have even been accepted into the Academy in the first place, but he digressed.

It was going to start soon. The Graduation, that is. Sheathing his weapon, he quickly stood up, and jumped down to the ground below. Enzeru didn't know what to expect, but again, his gut feeling told him something extraordinary was going to happen today. Something incredible.

Life changing.

[Akans]

Kyoroj had barely dragged himself out of bed, and onto a nearby bench in the shade before he realized he needed to be elsewhere. It was somewhere.... important. The date... Oh well, it was too much work trying to remember. What a pain.

For Kyoroj, he was almost always late, his impression of time different from everyone else. He defined "morning" as the time when you wake up - which, for Kyoroj, was around noon. This, coupled with his apathetic attitude, resulted in quite a few clashes with upper Shinigami. But in the end, nothing changed. Kyoroj still woke up at noon, and his superiors still got angry.

Kyoroj stretched and yawned as he blinked and took in his surroundings. A small enclosed garden area, dotted with small trees and two benches, one of which was occupied by himself. As Kyoroj leaned down to lie flat onto the bench to once again fall blissfully into sleep, he remembered with a slight jolt it was Graduation. Ah great. He was late.

But strangely, he couldn't find any anxiety. It was too early in the morning for him to care. Yawning, Kyoroj picked up his zanpakuto and slid away; his light footsteps quickened until he was flying along the ground, moving faster and faster, a blur that cut through the morning dew. He would have attempted to learn Shunpo, but it seemed like too much work. Plus, he believed that the skills he learned should complement his Shikai and Bankai - both of which he had yet to learn. Which meant he had an excuse to not learn anything extra.

But that ends tonight! Kyoroj promised silently to himself. He would have a good long talk with his zanpakuto and find out what the hell it was. Tonight, of course. To do it in the day was too close into the future. Maybe he could get a bit of sleep during Graduation....