The full moon hung low over Seireitei like a bleeding eye, casting a crimson hue across the rooftops and courtyard stones. The air was sharp and heavy with reiryoku and the faint copper scent of blood. Patrols had doubled since the Hollow raid. Even so, the enemy returned.
It began with a tremor.
A ripple of unstable spiritual pressure shivered across the southern district, cracking stone and curling tiles. Then came the sound—a scream, inhuman and keening. It split the silence like a blade, and every nearby Shinigami froze.
Lan Yan was already moving.
He landed atop the outer wall in a blur of shunpo. Before him stood a singular figure: tall, cloaked in ivory bone, with ragged wings that pulsed with hollow energy. Its mask bore no mouth, only slits of red flame where eyes should be.
"Vasto Lorde," Lan Yan muttered, eyes narrowing.
This one was different. Its reiryoku coiled like a storm, crackling against his own with violent friction. Zhuoyin stirred at his side.
Finally, the Zanpakutō whispered. One worthy of our light.
The Vasto Lorde raised a skeletal hand. Without a word, it launched forward. The ground shattered beneath it.
Lan Yan drew his blade.
CLANG!
Steel met claw in a shower of sparks. The impact sent shockwaves across the wall, flattening trees and shattering windows for dozens of meters. But neither combatant moved. They held, pressed against one another, wills locked.
Then Lan Yan vanished—shunpo behind the Hollow's flank. Zhuoyin flashed in a golden arc.
The creature spun with unnatural grace, deflecting the strike with a spin of its wing blades. Counter-blows rained down like a hail of obsidian.
Back and forth, they danced, light and shadow clashing mid-air. The night sky pulsed with gold and crimson. Watching from afar, Lanran's breath caught.
"He's not using his full strength yet," he murmured.
Behind him, Kurotsuki emerged from the shadow.
"Neither is the Hollow."
Lauren didn't flinch. "What is it? Another probe?"
Kurotsuki shook her head. "This one is not scouting. It's dueling. Testing something. Him."
Lanran's eyes narrowed. "Or someone is watching through it."
Back in the air, Lan Yan pivoted, blade sweeping a crescent of burning light. The Hollow faltered. The edge of its wing was scorched away.
Zhuoyin surged.
Use it.
"Bankai!"
KA-BOOM!
The courtyard exploded in golden radiance. The sky bent. Shadows fled. Zhuoyin unfurled into a spiral of dual-bladed light, circling Lan Yan like a solar halo.
The Vasto Lorde screamed.
Its body warped, doubling in size. Crimson flames erupted from its core. It dashed in again, fists like meteors.
But this time, it wasn't even close.
Lan Yan blurred. When he reappeared, he was behind the Hollow. Zhuoyin cleaved down.
SLASH!
A line of pure golden light split the air—and the Hollow's torso. It staggered, roaring. But instead of collapsing, it raised its hand and clenched a sphere of shadow.
BZZZZZT!
A Garganta opened behind it—not torn by force but summoned with intent. The Hollow stepped through, the body still burning from the Bankai's mark.
It looked back once, and though its mask had no face, Lan Yan felt it.
Recognition.
Then it vanished.
The light faded. Zhuoyin quieted.
Lan Yan sheathed his blade and touched the wound on his side, only now realizing he'd been hit.
Lanran landed beside him. "They're adapting."
"No," Lan Yan replied. "They're learning."
Author's Note:
A Vasto Lorde that retreats? A duel instead of a slaughter?
Zhuoyin releases its Bankai again, but the enemy survives.
This is no longer a war.
It's a chessboard.
And the pieces are moving.
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