46 Chapter 46

Barragan released a breath, the cold hollowness of his eyes utterly impassive.

Just as life begins, life will end as a cycle that stretches beyond an eternity, ever fleeting and never changing. Time was the only variable that dictated all, and he was its sovereign.

Pale white fingers stretched forth amidst a dense purple cloud; thin bony joints clacking ominously against the gold bangled bracelets worn over fleshless forearms.

Look and behold, and know of Death.

The cloud spread outward, a violent storm of energy that blackened everything: Sand withered, trees withered, life withered.

Neither Quilge or Giselle knew what to make of it, but they instinctively backed away in a burst of spiritual energy infused speed. Their feet kicked up sand, their movements leaving behind tiny crevices from the pushing of their feet. It was only enough to escape the immediate vicinity.

In an alternative timeline, no Arrancar left in Hueco Mundo could have had ever hoped to put up any sort of resistance against the forces of the Wandenreich. Harribel, the only Vasto Lorde Class Arrancar left in the alternative time line who could put up a resistance was even personally subdued by A- 'The Almighty.' Hueco Mundo became the playground of the Quincy. However, the present timeline was different.

Tier Harribel.

Ulquiorra Cifer.

Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

Emilou Apacci.

Mila Rose.

Sung-Sun.

Brans.

And Aaroniero Arruruerie.

The Espada still stood strong, their members whole and led by an existence beyond understanding.

The Vasto of White.

Worst of all for the Wandenreich, Barragan the Primera Espada was alive and stronger than he had ever been before. He was the former God-King of Hueco Mundo, and he had never shown his enemies mercy.

"The crawling of ants, useless and degrading. Do you now realize the strength of the God-King that stands before you?" Barragan said curtly, a violet mantle billowing ominously behind him.

When Quilge and Giselle looked back, they felt as if any preconceived notions born of pride or arrogance were utterly erased. Within the vicinity of the cloud, nothing was left but a black void; even the sand corroded away, dark amalgamations of spiritual energy rapidly breaking down all that they touched. They retreated in caution.

Barragan grunted in disinterest, a hand resting beneath his chin. Aside from a few exceptions, nothing was eternal. His power of decay was a power that affected all, admittedly, even himself. Such was the law of the universe. Yet perhaps, he was not yet at the apex of his strength?

Why would an ability produced by himself affect him if not for his own inadequacy?

Ever since the battle in the fake Karakura Town, he had been transfixed on a single concept. A phrase that he'd heard amidst the battle. Above the first release, there was still another level, another plateau to reach.

Segundo Etapa, the Second Release.

For a moment, he ignored the enemies before him and stared at the congregation of miasma shrouding his form. It covered him in a protective blanket, preventing all harm from coming to him such that no living enemy without sufficient spiritual pressure could even approach him.

Maybe that was it entirely?

Until his first battle with Shirou, he had never once known the feeling of trepidation or excitement in combat. Not when nothing had ever been able to hurt him. Fights and pointless grudges were just an amusing game to him, but no longer.

From loss, he grew to learn of the bitterness of defeat.

From defeat, he understood the diligence of perseverance.

Most of all, he understood that growth could only truly be accomplished through adequate pressure. In that regard, Shirou had aided him greatly by agreeing to duel after duel.

If he had it his way, then he would have had sought Shirou out for another battle in order to obtain insight onto the Hollow's ascended level known as the Second Release.

The cracked crown over his head was a constant reminder of not only his loss to Shirou, but to keep striving forward. Time was his domain, and time was what would allow him to grow.

His attention focused skeptically back down on Quilge and Giselle. The two possessed an abundant amount of spiritual energy; more than enough to rival a Captain-Class Shinigami or the other Espada, but he was loath to acknowledge them at all. Against him, their power and abilities were nothing more than annoyances with little effect.

Be that as it may, they would do.

He needed to feel pressure, and Shirou was preoccupied.

He dissipated the majority of his Respira with the flick of an arm, the gaseous purple mist that surrounded him largely fading away in its entirety. Both Quilge and Giselle were caught off guard by his sudden action, but he had no need to explain his thoughts and reasonings.

Only a fool would waste his breath in battle. He'd already learned the concept through experience.

Why boast of the strength of a God-King when he could just simply display it?

To dare trespass into Hueco Mundo fully knowing it to be the home of all Hollows, there would be no return. They might as well make themselves useful.

He straightened his back, raising up to his full height and carrying his double-bladed axe with a single hand.

If they couldn't satisfy him, then so be it.

Let them know of despair.

/-/

Wind bellowed fiercely.

Despite the natural resistance that Quilge had through his abundant spiritual energy, he felt utterly cold under Barragan's scrutiny which inwardly infuriated him. He simply couldn't understand Barragan's intentions by leaving an opening through the dense miasma.

Regardless, he would not cower. He would not bend. He clenched his fists, expression tightening into a sneer.

Giselle swallowed audibly beside him before smiling brightly, her expression somewhat strained. "Maybe it's just a bluff?" she said stiffly.

He did not answer. He didn't need to because he'd already fired off a standard spiritual arrow towards Barragan who didn't even bother moving. Barragan merely glanced over and a layer of lingering purple mist stopped his attack in its tracks.

Quilge calculated in his mind.

Ranged attacks were never going to work. He didn't truly understand the concept behind the enemies decaying ability, but what he understood was that it had to possess a limit. More than that, what if it was able to harm Barragan himself?

His eyes narrowed in speculation, quickly scrutinizing Barragan from head to toe and coming to a realization. He was convinced that Barragan himself could fall victim to his own ability. Despite the lingering remains of the purple miasma around Barragan, not a single ounce of it ever made contact with Barragan directly.

What use did such information give him? In truth, nothing. However, the implications were more than enough to consider a method for victory.

"Do you see that, Giselle?" He pushed up his circle-framed glasses.

All members of the Wandenreich had a certain level of competency in regards to battle analysis. They would not miss even the most subtle of details.

Giselle quickly noticed what he meant and put on a peculiar expression, her lips curving upwards. "Perhaps he dissipated a majority of the miasma because it hindered his movements?"

Quilge nodded in agreement, but focused on a more important aspect. If Barragan was afraid of making contact with his own power, that meant that there was not a substantial amount of it around Barragan at all times. Moreover, if they fought him at close range, there was no way that Barragan would flood the area with his power of decay because he'd envelop himself in the mist.

Giselle dismissed the spiritual bow that she'd formed in her hands.

Quilge was different. Even as a Quincy, he'd never preferred to use a bow. Instead, he formed spiritual energy into the form of an ornate military saber which he drew forth in a single motion.

"For the Reich," He didn't waste another word before charging forward, Giselle quick on his tail.

Wind whipped across his face, spiritual energy coating his body in a thin film that allowed him to stride forward by leaps and bounds. Beneath his feet, a platform of spiritual energy carried him across the void that Barragan had made with his Respira. The technique was called Hirenkyaku, Flying Bamboo. An advanced Quincy movement skill.

He sneered in contempt for the foe before him.

'In the eyes of the twisted and barbaric,'

He funneled abundant spiritual energy channeled from Hueco Mundo's atmosphere towards the tip of his sword, igniting it with a dim luminescent radiance. Not too strong or too blinding, but gentle as if holy by nature like the guiding light of the moon.

'The ultimate enforcers of holiness and righteousness must be abhorrent indeed.'

It was a mistake to look down upon the Wandenreich.

He arrived near Barragan's side in an instant, saber gripped around its hilt and thrusting forward with blinding speed.

"Die!"

There was no escape. Barragan had even failed to react in time. A derisive grin made its way onto his face before pausing mid-process in disbelief. His lips froze, the ferocity and surety in his attack breaking away with each passing second.

Impossible.

What was going on?

The attack that Barragan should not have had been able to react to suddenly slowed to an unbearable crawl the closer it came to Barragan's body. It wasn't slow per say, but in regards to the battle's pacing, it might as well have had been a child's useless attack.

Quilge had aimed for a decisive stab to the head, but his efforts were laughably meaningless. His eyes watched in slow motion as Barragan tilted his head to the side and dodged. "Pathetic. You disappoint me."

Rage welled up from within Quilge's chest, but more than rage, he felt both doubt and confusion. His strike should have had hit, and Barragan had not displayed any inclination of intercepting to begin with.

Then how?

He quelled his doubts in favour of backing away as the lingering purple clouds of death drew near to him under Barragan's control. He twisted on the balls of his feet and pushed himself off to gain distance.

He then clicked his tongue and observed Giselle who promptly attacked after him. From a third person's perspective, he hoped to find the root of his failure by observing the efforts of his comrade.

Similar to him, she went in for a stab using a conjured arrow of spiritual energy while simultaneously slitting her wrists in order to pour blood over her opponent.

His eyes narrowed to take in every detail, but he faltered when he reached a conjecture.

Time dilation.

Not only could Barragan accelerate the time of the world around him, but he could slow it as well.

The speed of Giselle's strike rapidly declined within Baraggan's proximity, causing her to pale as Barragan reached a hand over. "I tire of this."

The blood that Giselle had spilled over Barragan never even touched him before fading away into vapour. The spiritual arrow Giselle held in her hand becoming nothing more than particles after touching Barragan's form.

Barragan stared down impassively. "Pity. You both fail."

A pale finger stretched towards the skin of Giselle's ankle, her mind able to react, but her body immobilized by the time field around her.

By the time Barragan's finger made contact with Giselle's ankle, Quilge could only watch as a pained scream escaped Giselle mouth.

The flesh literally peeled off from her bones to reveal pink muscle and tendons before even that scattered away into dust. Worse, it was spreading.

Giselle did not dare linger. Kicking from under her left foot, she used as much spiritual energy as she had available to bounce away from Barragan's clutches.

Barragan allowed it if only to mock his opponents. "A worthless weakling, am I? Then what does that make you who flee at my touch?"

Quilge gritted his teeth in frustration, but Giselle was pale as she reached Quilge's side. Her leg was rapidly rotting away. It had started first from her foot and ankle, but had now reached all the way up to her knee.

She didn't waste a second and directly cut it off before it could spread, giving herself a self-inflicted injury that prompted her power of 'The Zombie' to regrow her lost limb. Despite escaping without any real detriments, her complexion was haggard, and her breathing ragged. She didn't want to think about what would have had happened if she didn't quickly amputate herself.

She pursed her lips and swallowed, a noticeable tremble in her form.

Quilge had never seen Giselle so unsettled before which was why he quickly understood the gravity of the situation.

He felt his expression tightening into a hard grimace.

"I can't get close," Giselle spoke seriously, any playfulness leaving her form.

Quilge could not fault her.

Her power was 'The Zombie,' she'd never had to care about dodging or parrying an enemy attack at all. In fact, that was what she generally wanted in order to spill her blood over her opponents and control them.

This case was different.

Giselle's eyes dilated while staring at the world around her withering away into dust by Barragan's hands before looking at her regrown leg. She had no doubts that her or her blood were no exceptions to Baraggan's power. 'The Zombie' healed her from any injury no matter how severe, however, what if Baraggan's power didn't inflict injury to begin with?

All living things naturally become brittle with time.

Age was not an attack. It was a process.

Quilge watched Giselle grit her teeth in unease. Baraggan countered her in every way such that rather than an asset, she was a liability in battle. Giselle herself must have had understood this because she ran as far away from Baraggan as possible to allow him optimal space.

"Quilge!" Her shout entered his ears, strained and apprehensive, causing his expression to darken.

'I know.'

Giselle didn't have to elaborate for him to understand. He was the only one who could make a difference in this fight. It was up to him to put down the enemy for the glory of the Wandenreich, the Reich that had lasted for over a thousand years.

He was Quilge Opie, he who was bestowed the letter 'J' by his King, and the possessor of the strongest prison, 'The Jail.'

He stretched his hand forward and called upon the power granted upon him consuming the blood of his King.

"The Jail!" He trapped Barragan in a cage of blue spiritual energy while his mind worked on overdrive.

Distance was impossible.

Close quarters combat, even less effective. In fact, he'd rather take his chances shooting than to get close and risk exposure. Unlike Giselle, he did not have any sort of ability that could save him from Barragan's attack.

What kind of monster was this?

No. There had to be a method. He just hadn't thought of one yet, not that he had much time to think in the first place.

The Jail before him began to dim and wane as wisps of smoke-like clouds began to erode glaring holes within The Jail's cage.

"Is that all?" A taunting voice echoed out, utterly unamused. "The same trick again?"

Dammit.

If one didn't work then what about two, three, or four?

It didn't matter how much it took; he would never admit to defeat. Glory to the Emperor!

"The Jail!" He called upon his bestowed power again while Giselle watched wordlessly in the distance.

One layer formed after another at roughly the same rate as Barragan deteriorated The Jail's spiritual energy. The process was heavily taxing on Quilge and he felt the noticeable dip in spiritual reserves. However, he was able to come up with another strategy in the process.

The power that he was facing against was Time. Therefore, the only method to truly overcome it was to use an energy or object that was eternal.

Quilge did not know of any weapon that was timeless, but he did know of an energy that would never fade. The energy of dimensions. The dark space between worlds that one must travel through. Ordinary spiritual beings could even find themselves crushed or forever lost within the confines of the space between worlds.

There was no guarantee that it would work, but it was the most viable option available.

"The Jail!" He placed six more layers of cages around Barragan before shouting to Giselle. "Open the gate!"

The gate that he was referring to was the same method of transport that had taken them into Hueco Mundo in the first place.

Giselle didn't waste any time to do so. Taking a small object from a pocket on her clothes, she crushed it and stepped outside as a fissure between dimensions opened with no real ending point.

Sweat matted Quilge's brow as he willed the 'The Jail' to hurl Barragan away.

Perish. The thought echoed within his head as 'The Jail' approached its destination, and yet, it suddenly stopped, a hand piercing through all layers.

He felt something inside of him snap while sensing the sheer density of purple miasma that would be released upon the 'The Jail's' breaking.

"Retreat!" He grudgingly yelled out.

The operation was a failure. There was no way that he or Giselle could match the strength of their opponent. There was just nothing that they could really do. They'd already tried to the best of their ability.

Giselle didn't argue with his decision and followed him in order to escape.

"The breath of death," a voice trailed after them. "Respira."

The light of the overhead moon was blanketed by a deep fog that blotted out the entire area. The air stilled, mindless hollows and porous silver rock decaying into dust at the cloud's rapid expansion.

This kind of power shouldn't exist. Quilge was finally forced to realize the true extent of how outclassed he and Giselle currently were. It wasn't that he or Giselle were weak, it was the match up itself.

Tendrils of purple mist were already chasing behind him at his heels, Giselle only fairing a bit better.

"You think you can run?" Barragan's voice followed them persistently, echoing amidst the corrosive-like purple haze.

He panted for breath; his reserves having taken a considerable hit in order to just contain Barragan for a scant few seconds. Barragan did not just have a broken ability, but he was strong. Exceedingly so. Even though the time dilation slowed his and Giselle's attacks at close range, they weren't 'slow' by the standard of Adjuchas and Captain-Class Shinigami. It was just that Barragan was faster.

In the process of fleeing, he felt himself grow slower and slower. Even the platform of spiritual energy that he maintained under his feet was visibly fading.

He needed to do something and quick. He didn't have enough reserves and Giselle wouldn't be able to outrun Barragan while carrying him.

His attention shifted towards his black glove over his left hand.

Quincy: Vollständig, the equivalent of Shinigami's Bankai and an Arrancar's release.

His Vollstandig was called Biskei, the Justice of God.

Biskei allowed him the ability to harness the spiritual energy of the air and surroundings in order to fuel his transformation. Once invoked, he would have full dominance over the spiritual energy that made up the world, exponentially increasing his absorption rate to supplement his lacking reserves. However, a problem existed.

His brows furrowed together while watching Barragan's spiritual energy eroding away everything within sight. It was intricately blanketing the spiritual energy around and upon activation of his Vollstandig, he may end up absorbing the energy of decay into himself.

The problem was that he didn't know if he could even absorb Baraggan's spiritual energy in the first place. Rather than normal spiritual energy, Barragan energy was corrosive by nature. Therefore, he didn't dare assimilate it into his body.

He needed a more suitable target.

His eyes darted left and right before spotting a certain figure.

In their battle against Baraggan, they'd neglected to realize that it wasn't Baraggan alone that they had been facing from the start.

The traitorous Quincy.

Using his Vollstandig, he could pilfer whatever amount of spiritual energy Silent had left and use it in order to escape. He felt no shame or remorse at his loss. Barragan was someone that he admitted that only his King, A- 'The Almighty' could perhaps deal with.

For now, what mattered was surviving and reporting back about such a monster.

He gestured towards Giselle and promptly moved in the direction where he could still see Silent's form laying sprawled over the ground, the spiritual restraints that bound her loose enough that he had barely worked herself free.

The ability of a Quincy would not work on a fellow Quincy, but that didn't mean that he couldn't pilfer spiritual energy. The process would only take a moment after invoking Biskei. He just had to be careful not to undergo a full release otherwise he risked absorbing Barragan's Respira.

He grabbed Silent's wrist and hoisted her up only to see a vacant pair of eyes staring at him with such intensity that he faltered. There was something off about this fellow Quincy turned traitor. There was an unknown power within her body that caused him to shiver. It almost reminded him of his King which prompted him to speculate on whether or not the King had bestowed Silent a designated power.

Frankly, the situation was pressing enough that he didn't have time to consider indulge his curiosity. He began the process of releasing Biskei but abruptly faltered as he felt the opposite sort of reaction that he was expecting. Rather than pilfer Silent's spiritual energy, he felt his own forcibly being ripped from out of him.

The spiritual restraint around Silent snapped in their entirety and a hand suddenly clamped over his face, dragging his head to the ground where it was pressed firmly into the sand.

"Y-You, what did you…" He sputtered out in a panic.

Oddly enough, Barragan's Respira did not approach Silent's location as if mindful of her condition.

What little relief that observation gave Quilge was largely mitigated by the fact that his body was shriveling right before his eyes.

Silent stared back in a daze, something within her awakening and reacting upon contact with a fellow Quincy.

Back before she was known as Silent, her real name was Masaki Kurosaki, a pureblood Quincy. She was human, but was then eaten by a hollow, and eventually purified by Shirou using a method outside of the current world. What mattered most during the process was the sole fact that she was a pureblood Quincy, meaning that she had once had a concentrated amount of the King's energy before it was taken away from her.

Through Shirou's purification of Grand Fisher, Silent became something of an empty vessel. The spiritual energy of an individual largely made them who they were. Silent's spiritual energy was forcibly taken from her before she was promptly eaten by a hollow which was why she had lost a majority of her memories. She was an empty slate, something that shouldn't have existed at all.

Silent should have died, yet this wasn't the case.

Like the Emperor of the Wandenreich who bestowed Quilge and the other Quincy with power, Shirou had done something similar for Silent.

Balmung, the Sword of the Hero Siegfried of the Nibelungenlied.

It was a sword whose properties were determined by the wielder, either Holy or Demonic. The light that had bathed Silent was Holy in nature, reinvigorating the remnant energy left within her and bestowing her power. For Balmung was a Traced weapon that utilized Shirou's own innate energy in its formation.

In short, Shirou had unwittingly granted Silent her own designation born from her heritage as a Human with the power of a Quincy, Hollow, and the essence of a Shinigami.

Her true power, her designation was at the root of all spiritual existence of the present world.

Zero 'The Origin.'

It was a power in which she herself did not know how to utilize. However, under Barragan and Giselle's eyes, Quilge's form rapidly decayed, the power of 'The Jail,' leaving him and entering Silent's body.

All things must one day return to the origin.

Elsewhere, in another world shadowed by the Seireitei, a pair of eyes opened in surprise.

Meanwhile, Giselle felt her stomach begin to sink while still in the process of escaping; her expression finally panicked. Nothing was making sense, and Quilge's situation was too bewildering.

Regardless of what ability Silent had, a Quincy's power should never have had worked against a fellow Quincy, for all Quincy were descended from A, 'The Almighty.'

She pursed her lips and forced herself to keep running. Barragan was not at all distracted for long and already the expanding trail of Respira was catching up to her. Worse, now that Quilge was gone, she couldn't help but recall Quilge's former caution regarding Hueco Mundo.

Her eyes darted up to stare at 'The Jail' that Quilge had been maintaining over the course of the fight. It was fading, breaking away and assimilating with Silent as a result of whatever it was that Silent had done.

Eventually, 'The Jail' that was masking the presence of everyone's spiritual energy was gone.

Instantly, Giselle had an ominous premonition. A sweeping spiritual pressure directly scanned across the area, the weight of which pressed heavily down on her shoulders. It was unbearable, directly crippling her speed and forcing her into a tumble over the sand.

The distinct scent of steel and fire wafted into her nose, goosebumps forming over her skin.

Q-Quilge's intuition was right.

This pressure, it was staggering. Any resistance while in Hueco Mundo felt utterly futile.

She pursed her lips while desperately dodging from side to side in order to evade the clouds of decay that must have had been swarming towards her.

Contrary to belief, Barragan stopped. His arms crossing before grunting in annoyance. He soon reeled in all of his power. And yet, there was no relief just because Barragan had stopped. In fact, Giselle only felt despair. Someone that could stop Barragan must be someone that had Barragan's grudging respect.

An equal in power if not greater.

A figure appeared before her; his expression purposely neutral.

One look, and it was like she was drowning within a bottomless ocean. She could not even begin to estimate the depths of his power because the world itself was his to rule.

He looked different from the reports, but that was only natural because of what their King had said regarding Hollows turning into Arrancar. Fortunately, Aizen's proposition for the Arrancar to wear garments of white, made locating the sole individual in a red mantle that much easier to identify.

Before she and Quilge had entered Hueco Mundo, they'd been warned to stay away from a particular individual, the Lord of Hollows, the Vasto of White.

She and Quilge would obey such an order without question simply because it had come directly from the mouth of their all-seeing King. However, there was also a different reason. One that astounded all Quincy who had heard.

"No, stay away!" She muttered before screaming out.

What terrified her more than anything wasn't the type of reputation that the Vasto of White had or the power that he supposedly possessed. Instead, it was something that her King, A- 'The Almighty,' ruler of the Wandenreich had said in passing while in deep consternation.

In fact, she reckoned that she and the others weren't supposed to hear of such a thing, but regardless, she'd heard.

Her body began to shiver, her pupils dilating as she began to back away in a panic at the Vasto of White's approach. The pressure on her shoulders was stifling, but her fear was forcing her strength to new heights.

Yet it still wasn't enough.

Her hands and feet kicked up sand in her attempts to flee, but no strength would come to her while looking at the impassive bronze coloured eyes that stared directly into her. They were chillingly familiar; prompting the memory of her King's speculation to play non-stop in her mind, Yhwach's overwhelming image overlapping with the figure before her.

The presence and energy that the two generated were eerily similar in how it influenced the world around them.

The Vasto of White, Lord of Hollows.

Her King had called him 'Brother.'