Chapter 50: The Intensity of The Three-Way Standoff (1)
Amidst the grandeur of epic battles raging across the Soul Society, another face-off had ignited nearby. Ulquiorra, freshly bestowed with new powers from Aizen, had teamed up with Tsukushima from the Fullbringers to face Kyoraku Shinsui.
Though he was a natural-born Vasto Lorde and a natural arrancar even before Aizen's augmentation, Ulquiorra was still trying to acclimatize to the strength and limits of his newfound abilities.
And Tsukushima was feeling similarly unsure about how to utilize his newly augmented Book of the End to its full potential. They just whispered to each other about their abilities and potential strategies for this battle as they were both quite rational actors most of the time.
On the dusty ground below the tumultuous skies, Kyoraku Shinsui stood, unfazed by the duo that confronted him. His trademark straw hat sat atop his head, casting a shadow over his nonchalant eyes.
Kyoraku, gazing at the duo, remarked with a playful smile, "What an unusual pairing. Two against one hardly seems fair, but I suppose I can make do."
However, Ulquiorra, true to his direct and confrontational nature, led the initial assault without any words wanting to test the waters. He lunged toward Kyoraku, his slender yet muscular figure blurring in its speed, landing a heavy punch with the intent to break through Shinsui's guard. But the experienced captain, ever light on his feet, evaded him effortlessly.
Tsukushima hung back, studying the two with a calculating gaze. His plan was to manipulate Kyoraku's past, turning the odds in their favor. But he needed a clear shot at the right time.
Tsukushima, his voice a low murmur, whispered to himself, "Once I rewrite his history, this will all be over. Just a matter of the perfect moment. One cut is literally all I need to win!"
Tsukishima's Fullbring manifested itself in his bookmark, which he could transform into a katana that has a bookmark-shaped tsuba.
This was no ordinary blade; it bore the power to fracture the very past of anyone it touched. But its technique was far removed from the clichéd manipulations of time or memory; instead, it masterfully wove Tsukishima himself into the tapestries of one's life story.
Upon being marked by this weapon, an individual would suddenly recall Tsukishima as an integral figure in their personal saga - a dear friend, a close relative, perhaps even a lover.
Such was its precision that it could effectively replace others in one's memories, rewriting roles and relationships. This aspect, while perplexing, had another layer of depth:
Tsukishima would gain an intimate understanding of the altered memories, knowing every hidden crevice and secret of the affected soul. And not only that, but he could also gain all of their fighting skills.
Even if one were wary of Tsukishima beforehand, the blade's effect didn't discriminate. It would bind the victim to its reality. And it wasn't a one-time endeavor; the past could be reshaped repeatedly, though with a caveat. Should the victim sense an incongruity between the fabricated past and their true reality, they teetered on the precipice of mental unraveling.
There was a saving grace, albeit a fleeting one. If Tsukishima were to touch them with the blade once more, the spell would break, liberating them from the twisted memories.
But the Book of the End's prowess wasn't limited to the living. It could reshape the very essence of inanimate entities. A simple graze on the ground and Tsukishima could rewrite its history, laying traps as if they'd been there for eons.
A brush against a weapon, and he'd instantly grasp its techniques and weaknesses, no matter how covert.
However, every power, no matter how great, has its Achilles' heel. With Tsukishima's demise, all his elaborate modifications would vanish, restoring the natural order of things.
Soon, the three figures soon created a tense triangle on the battlefield. While Ulquiorra and Kyoraku sized each other up, Tsukushima trailed in the background, every so often touching his blade to remind himself of its reality-changing capabilities.
Ulquiorra lunged at Kyoraku with swift strikes. Each strike was sharp, fast, and powerful, but the seasoned captain seemed to be always a step ahead, dodging and parrying as though he was dancing.
Every strike from Ulquiorra was met with an effortless block or dodge from Kyoraku, their spiritual pressures colliding in waves of force that tore up the ground beneath them.
Tsukushima watched intently, waiting for the slightest misstep from Kyoraku. His strategy wasn't to overpower but to manipulate. He knew if he could just get one clean slash with his 'Book of the End,' the dynamics would change entirely.
Meanwhile, Kyoraku, feeling the pressure not just from Ulquiorra's assault but also from the ominous presence of Tsukushima, decided he could no longer hold back, "I release...",
He murmured, as the twin blades of his zanpakuto, Katen Kyokotsu, gleamed brighter. The atmosphere changed. The playful demeanor was replaced with a more somber tone, a reflection of his shikai's nature.
As Kyoraku's shadows grew, playing games of color and deception, Ulquiorra found himself struggling even more. Sensing the shift in power and refusing to be outdone, Ulquiorra muttered,
"Enclose, Murciélago!", The resultant surge of spiritual pressure was palpable. Wings sprouted from his back, his form more menacing and demonic. The playing field had once again been leveled.
Kyoraku, eyes narrowing, acknowledged the arrancar's might, "You've got some spirit. But don't forget, we're still dancing."
Tsukushima, using the intensified clash as a cover, tried to close in on Kyoraku's flank, hoping that the captain would be too preoccupied with Ulquiorra to notice his approach.
But in this intense game of strategy and power, every player was well aware of the stakes and their opponents.
As the battle progressed, the environment itself seemed to echo their every clash, gusts of wind whipped up by their spiritual pressure, and the very earth trembling beneath them. The sky darkened as if reflecting the weight of the confrontation.
Ulquiorra, mid-assault, hissed at Kyoraku, "Do you really think these games will save you, Shinigami?", To which Kyoraku replied, chuckling, "Life's a game, Arrancar. It's all about who makes the best moves."
Kyoraku danced gracefully between the shadows, making use of his Shikai's abilities to befuddle and misdirect Ulquiorra.
Yet, every time Kyoraku thought he had an edge, Ulquiorra's Resurrección form allowed him to counter effectively, their strengths nearly matched.
The atmosphere grew tense as Ulquiorra, standing in his Resurrección form, focused his energy, the very air around him pulsing with anticipation. His eyes, now even more menacing, locked onto Kyoraku.
With a swift movement, he drew his hand back, charging a dark, swirling energy. "Cero Oscuras," he murmured, the sound echoing eerily in the vast battleground.
Kyoraku, reading the imminent danger, quickly calculated his options. A direct hit from such an attack, he surmised, would be catastrophic. But evading it wasn't his style, especially when he had his own tricks up his sleeve. And he couldn't let the Seireitei behind him be hit.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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