[Prayer of the Damned]
[Karakura Town – Central Plaza]
The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a blood-red glow across the Karakura Town plaza, where the remnants of the battle still lingered in the charged air. The metallic tang of blood and spiritual energy intertwined, sharp and oppressive. Ichigo stood, his chest heaving, sweat mingling with the dirt smudged across his face. The wind stirred, carrying with it a whisper of something ancient, unsettling.
Before him, the sinner's body spasmed, chains of Hell constricting tighter with each ragged breath he took. His eyes, wide with terror, locked onto Ichigo's, pleading as if they held the secrets of salvation. But salvation did not come. Instead, he screamed—a sound that clawed at the ears and seemed to vibrate through the very marrow of those present.
"Joining hands, I will pray, God," the sinner croaked, his voice breaking into sobs as the chains slithered across his limbs, coiling around his neck and chest. The plaza seemed to darken, the light dimming as if drawn into the gravity of his torment.
Ichigo gripped his sword tighter, feeling the weight of the scene press into his bones. The chains moved, weaving through the sinner's skin as though alive, and with one final, agonized scream, the sinner's body twisted. His eyes rolled back, and he gasped, "What words hold most value—a faint echo of threads of chaos?"
Suddenly, he was gone. The chains shimmered briefly before collapsing in on themselves and vanishing into thin air. The residual spiritual pressure dissipated into a void so complete it reminded Ichigo of the Quincies' destructive touch, erasing traces of existence itself.
"Kisuke, what just happened?" Ichigo shouted, his voice rough with desperation.
A wounded Renji stepped forward, his hand trembling as he rested it on Ichigo's shoulder. His voice was heavy, tinged with the weight of knowing. "He is no more, Ichigo. And you felt it, too."
Ichigo's eyes were wide, searching for an answer that didn't come. "But—"
"Kurosaki, there's no point in lamenting now," Uryū interjected, his tone clipped but edged with something softer—empathy, perhaps.
The silence that followed was oppressive, broken only by the wind that sighed through the plaza as if lamenting with them. Urahara stepped into the quiet, his usual air of nonchalance replaced by something grim. "Ichigo, we now know these chains can consume a soul entirely. It's better we prepare for what's to come. From what I can tell, this sinner was just a discarded underling, sent to provoke chaos. And if that's true, we can expect something far more dangerous soon."
Ichigo's brows knitted, the memory of the sinner's screams echoing in his head. "The chains… and the Reishi," he muttered, half to himself.
Urahara nodded, eyes sharp beneath the brim of his hat. "Yes, the chains and the Reishi neutralized each other to the point of nothingness. Think of it as two opposing charges colliding, obliterating one another in the process."
The gravity of the moment weighed heavily on the quartet. Urahara glanced at Ichigo and Renji. "Ichigo, I need you and Renji to go to Soul Society and request backup. We need answers and reinforcements."
Renji exhaled shakily.
"But how did Soul Society know about this before we even arrived?" Urahara's gaze hardened, pinning Renji with a look that spoke volumes.
"Disturbances were detected near the Senkaimon, and there were signs that someone used it to slip into the World of the Living," Renji said, filling in the silence. The low murmur of the town beyond the plaza continued, oblivious to the unfolding tension.
Urahara's eyes darkened. "I see. So, they didn't use the pseudo-Hell Gates. That changes things." He looked at Ichigo. "You go. I'll handle explanations with your family, Ichigo. And don't worry, I'll ensure their protection."
Renji managed a small, strained smile. "The good news is, unlike last time, they're not coming after you, Ichigo."
Urahara's lips twitched into a half-smile, his expression thoughtful. "It's either that they don't care or that they care deeply. I lean towards the former."
[A Few Hours Later…]
The underground training room beneath Urahara's shop buzzed with nervous energy. The lanterns cast flickering shadows on the stone walls, dancing like specters as the quartet gathered. Ichigo and Renji stood ready, their silhouettes stark against the dim light. Urahara's face was half-hidden in the shadows, eyes glinting with a mixture of worry and resolve.
Uryū broke the silence. "Urahara, tell me honestly. Do you know anything about Hell that you've kept from us?" His voice was calm but insistent, echoing slightly in the cavernous space.
Urahara sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "My knowledge extends as far as yours, Uryū. Hell is a riddle, one even the Gotei 13 hasn't fully solved. If anyone might have deeper insight, it's Captain Mayuri Kurotsuchi. But his answers come at a cost." The unspoken warning hung in the air, chilling them more than the underground draft.
Ichigo stepped forward, eyes set with determination. "Then it's time we got those answers."
[Beyond the Senkaimon…]
Passing through the Senkaimon was always surreal, the world turning into a blur and shifting particles. Ichigo and Renji moved through the corridor, their steps echoing in the void. The Hell Butterfly fluttered ahead, guiding them safely through the dimensional barrier.
Renji broke the silence, glancing at Ichigo with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Do you ever think this will stop? The constant battles?"
Ichigo's gaze was unyielding, fixed on the path before them. "No. Not until every threat is neutralized."
The butterfly's wings glistened as they emerged into Soul Society, where the sky stretched vast and unmarred, a deceptive canvas of peace. The air felt different, sharper, carrying whispers of ancient power and duty.
[Squad One Meeting Grounds]
The meeting hall of Squad One was imposing, its wooden beams and walls steeped in history. The room was not as crowded as Ichigo expected. Familiar faces awaited them—Rukia Kuchiki, her gaze resolute; Suì-Fēng, as guarded as ever; Kenpachi Zaraki, an eager grin barely contained; and finally, the imposing figures of Mayuri Kurotsuchi and Captain Commander Shunsui Kyōraku.
Shunsui tipped his hat slightly, eyes crinkling with a smile that didn't reach them. "Ah, Ichigo, Renji, it's been some time." His voice was warm, but a tension underscored it, a strain that spoke of the urgency of their gathering.
Mayuri's painted face twisted into an intrigued grin. "So, the living realm has been touched by Hell's chains, has it?" His voice was singsong, tinged with a perverse curiosity.
Ichigo's jaw clenched as he stepped forward. "Yes, and we need answers. What do you know about these chains and the power they hold?"
Shunsui's expression grew somber, and he spread his arms, as if welcoming the storm that was to come. "Now that we have everyone here, let's begin. This is going to be a long one, and I suspect, not an easy tale to tell."