A Helping Hand [Closed]

He had thought things would just get easier with time. If he stopped thinking about it, just focused on his duties and kept his head down the errant thoughts would leave him alone. They didn't, and what was supposed to help, an assignment to Earth did nothing but result in more idle time spent dwelling on things he could do nothing to change. It further didn't help that the entire week had been uneventful. He'd been assigned to a small corner of a town supposedly increasing in activity.

So he observed quietly, stuck to the shadows waiting for tell of an encounter but there was nothing, not even a single errant soul. Just Kisho, the stark loneliness of an assignment to Earth, and the quiet whispers that drilled in the back of his skull that grew louder by the passing day.

At last, however, he reached the end of his rotation and was to be relieved. A blessing, he considered doing a rotation maybe even in the academy. Anything would be better than this. He headed to his assigned departure but, as he neared he received a high pitched alert. He nearly leapt out of his skin as his communicator went off, fumbled with it for a moment before checking the message. The screen read 'Errant unusual activity', a broad alert sent to nearby positioned Shinigami.

He lingered for a moment, considered briefly that he might be fine, he was pretty distant compared to some of the other assignments. Nobody would really look twice at him for turning away but...

He let out a sigh and pocketed the phone before making his way towards the heart of Karakura.

----

An hour passed and Kisho had found himself in the heart of pandemonium. Hollow had emerged, he could hear their cry about the city. He took a moment, the air was practically humming around him, he felt like there was almost a weight to push through as he moved. He flicked back to his communicator, perhaps there was someone he could link up with, someone who knew what the hell was going on.

Signal was out.

He turned his head, and considered briefly if perhaps it were better to step away from this...but he could hear a distant cry. People in danger, people whose lives and spirits were on the line forced to a fate much worse than a simple death...

Still. He lingered a moment longer, cursed the fates and darted forward, drawing his Zanpakuto in one smooth motion and set about the grisly task of containing chaos with a single blade.

He'd stopped counting after the fourth Hollow, the first four he had ever slain. They came in plentitude, driven mad by whatever was in the air, but further by the temptation his spirit offered them. The ground grew slick with blood as he picked his battles, he fought careful, wary. He picked his targets, he took his time. Kisho, if nothing else, knew how to use the sword he carried.

But the Hollows were innumerable. An hour had passed by now, and the fervour of his decision to commit himself to this had wavered. This was, of course, a futile task and his involvement, and the likelihood of his death here had made up his mind. He retreated, tucked himself into an alley and considered his options to leave.

As he turned and saw the trio of black eyes peering down at him from above. It took him only a moment to realize, these Crows were not crows.

The first one dive-bombed him only a moment into that realization and it met steel. Kisho delivered a fatal slash and kept the momentum as he heard the flapping of wings behind to slay the second just as cleaning. The third raked his shoulder with talons, spraying the alley with his blood, but with a hiss of pain and roar of fury, Kisho met it with his Zanpakuto and as quick as it had begun it was over.

He waited but a moment to see the dissolve of the trios Hollow spirit, the purification, but it never happened. He lingered for a moment, irritated with this troubling sense of inevitability. He had made up his mind, he'd turn to leave, extract himself from this mess of a city and get on with his life. Seconds ticked by, blood trickling from his wound as he idled.

He let out an irritated growl and flicked his blade to the side, spraying the alley further with blood. He glanced towards the sky and sprang upward, catching the edge of the roof and pulling himself up. He was exposed up here, very much the opposite of the smart play and all for what? An uncertainty? To solve a mystery? Tch. He had seen the Crows during his prior struggles and hadn't thought much of them then, but there they were when he was exhausted, waiting for him to lower his guard. How many Shinigami had fallen victim to them? Would if he did nothing?

Do I care?

He let out another irritated noise and did his best to scan the horizon. He tried to feel his way as he moved, raced across the rooftop and avoid attention as best as possible. Now that he had seen them up close, he could feel the faintest trace of present and followed it as best he could, springing across the rooftop, doing his best to ignore the cries below.

There

He focused his energy and sprang forth, vanishing. He reappeared where he had felt the presence stronger, upward on one of the tallest buildings of the city. He studied his new surroundings and found countless black eyes peering back at him. He hesitated for a moment before raising his blade.

Had he really considered what he might do if he actually found it?

It was kind of funny in a way, that he should be so preoccupied with so many things, the thoughts of betrayal, of justice, wondering about his place in the world and then just like that he absently found himself pulled along to some kind of misguided heroics and the cycle would repeat again.

No, some quiet side of himself felt differently. As he stared at the horde of beady eyes and black shapes began to twist in his direction he decided that this whole thing had a cosmic sense of finality to it. Ah, but he'd fight of course, to the very bitter end, a bloody samurai swinging his bloody blade until he died.

Kisho hesitated only a moment before letting out a bellowing cry, a challenge to each and every part of the swarm that began to set upon him. He dug his feet into the ground and stared them down, he waited as the flap of wings of each individual sounded out as a chorus, he waited as a blur of the darkness began to twist and break around him. He focused his gaze forward and felt resolution.

The three he had killed earlier had not been purified because they weren't Hollows, they were aspects. Then, it followed to Kisho, that there was a core to this he had to strike. To fight against a countless swarm was futile, he had no interest in futile and so it meant that for there to be hope, he had to believe there was a core, and strike it.

He found it, there, flitting in the back between the wave, directly ahead of him. It made sense that it'd be on the back but...

Was it really? Was he sure?

He committed himself and as the waves crashed down towards him he flashed forward, narrowly ahead of it. It pursued, but already his blade was poised and crashed down into what he believed the nexus of this strange Flock.

His blade cut clean, straight through, effortless. He pivoted as the tide came in, undaunted by his 'decisive' blow and did his best to brace and weather the storm.

He was wrong.

They tore at him, into him, they moved nearly as one, perhaps less effective than each on their own by they were a veritable legion, a sea of wings. He could not parry a dozen claws, nor could he cut through the tide of creatures that descended upon him, for everyone his blade would meet more would take its place and he'd be well picked clean before he managed to kill them all.

So, as suspected this was it. It was all for nought, all his suspicious all his idle thoughts of justice. The unjust existence of Kisho would come to a final and fatal end, a watermark. He'd die as food for the literal crows. How fitting.

The throbbing in his head continued, a distant sound echoing in the back of his skull.

He let out a cry as a piece of flesh was torn through his now tattered robes, he lashed out as the crows wheeled about to tear into him, and instead of letting it happen, he sprang alongside the narrow flow of birds, feeling the talons cut against him as he made his desperate maneuver. They were faster than him by far, but not more agile, owed perhaps to their somewhat single minded direction. The surprising movement gave him a moment, a single one. He pivoted and began to speak, words flowing out swiftly.

Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh. All creation. Flutter of wings.

He sprang backwards, blade crashing through the vanguard of the crows. His feet caught against the smooth rooftop and he slid backwards as the tide began to close in on him.

Ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium.

His blade flashed, wielded in one hand as the heat began to gather within his left palm. The air wavered around his closed fists as crows surged past him, taking with them small parts of his flesh as they fished around his blade and defences.

The sea barrier surges, march on to the south!

He kept up that chant through gritted teeth.

"Shakkahō!"

Incantation finished, gout of bright red flame surged from his hand and caught against his Zanpakuto where it stayed. Like a torch he swung it once to drive them back and moved again, pulling himself out of the tides. He gained a few feet before the Flock wheeled upon him and he swung once more, loosing the flame outward towards the tide with some hope that even as single-minded as it seemed, that fire might deter it.

Blood poured past his tattered robes, dropping and building on the ground beneath him. His right arm bearing his Zanpakuto wavered, but he steadied with his left, closing the blackened palm around the hilt. Not yet.

He wasn't done yet.

He put up a good show, everything work exactly as he had hoped and perhaps more. The flock scattered away from the flame, scattered as they were to the wind but he had barely killed any of them.

Did he change his fate? Or had all he accomplished was a little interlude where he could stand quietly, observe as they pulled away, and bleed. Bleed he did, from the numerous dozens or more cuts across his body pooling silently around his feet. His wounds were a grim timer on top of the impossible-seeming task of getting out the other side of this alive.

Any thought of fleeing was immediately put to bed, they had encircled the rooftop, a circling flock observing him, waiting for other tricks up his sleeve. He had some but nothing that would save him here. Still, a grin passed his lips, faint but definitely present. The throbbing in his skull had built, enough that it hurt to keep his eyes open. He was starting to feel still, and numb. He raised his blade in defiance and aimed it towards the swarm. It was less about the inevitability of his death, and dying the right way. His blade trembled.

Maybe there was a way to keep it from being pointless, but something told him it was outside of his reach. Just the way of the world.

Underneath all that was going at the rooftops, a third presence decided to make his appearance. The duel in the sky's was a most interesting sight to behold but Anatoly could not watch it anymore. Despite the fact that he enjoyed being swept in the crowds od common folk, watching the duel unfold, he could not allow the black presence to deal the finishing blow. There was much that he could do with that particular Shinigami, he was unlike the other ones which he had met so far. He actually appeared to be deserving of being called a Death God and the shaman appreciated people like him. After all, the byproduct of this man and his strength could be just what Anatoly needed. It could provide him with much more than the others did.

The probability of him being the same as the others was there as well, but it was much lower. Aware of that, Anatoly decided to finally act. With his hand grasping for crow infested night sky, palms wide open, he would mumble a few words to himself as a miracle was about to occur. In all due honesty, more like a natural disaster than a miracle, gusts of wind would begin to appear and circle the shaman's silhouette. With the force behind them and their speed increasing, it would not take it long for the disaster to take a form far too familiar to Anatoly. The reactions of the public eye and their screams would soon reach the rooftops above but at that moment it would be far too late as the rising tornado would begin to reach it's maturity and the sky where the duel was being held as well.

The swirling winds would suck in everything that was in their way, dragging bricks, street signs and even crows into a torrent from which there was hardly any escape. Strong currents would just keep everything spinning for as long as their master commanded them. In the meantime, said master would make its's way to the scene by riding those same currents. However, unlike the rest of the prisoners, he had all of the keys and he was not willing to share. Using his little natural disaster like an elevator, Anatoly would soon reach the rooftop where he noticed the wounded Shinigami and at that point he would casually exit it. Naturally there was no sign with the floor level or that little sound elevators made when their reached their designated destination but he did not need those to know where he was.

Like some sort of a divine being, he would emerge from the winds and land in front of the other male, completely unfazed with what was happening. Before the Shinigami could even begin to figure out what was going on, a single open hand would be stretched in his directions, with a few words following. "Take my hand if you want to live."

Keep your chin up, eyes focused. Don't let them see you waver. Keep that blade straight, stop trembling. He brought his other hand up to steady the blade, held it loosely and settled himself. Stay calm but don't forget what you're doing here. It's a fight, look for the opportunity. Losing is a state, states change. Just keep yourself in the game long enough to spot the opportunity.

He exhaled slowly and shifted forward slightly, daring them to come when the opportunity finally arrived. The winds picked up, the sky darkened from the rush of debris. He turned his gaze to spot it as the roaring grew and found that with this new opportunity he was...frozen. It was so entirely out of the blue that all he could do was stare. Maybe it was the bloodloss, all his limbs felt like lead.

Kisho turned abruptly as he heard someone approaching, he let out a grimace as his blade slipped suddenly and touched the roof. He narrowly kept his grip. The figure was a strange one, human for certain. While odds would lead him to believe Gigai there was too much going on here that suggested he start thinking the outlandish the more likely scenario. The man's nature, the suit, the torrent of unnatural wind...

Kisho staggered as the man approached, his vision tunnelling as he fought to keep upright, but before he could say anything the man extended his hand and made him the offer. Kisho grinned through the mess of blood still dripping freely from his body, took a glance towards the flock as they dealt with the rush of wind and made up his mind.

Kisho took the outstretched hand with an iron grip. "You know how to make an entrance, I'll give you that."

Success. Like a true hero Anatoly had managed to appear just in time and save the Shinigami from his untimely demise, or so is what the man had thought. Aware of the time restraints and what was going on around them, it did not take him long to consider the Shaman's offer, realizing that it was probably his best bet of survival However, little did he know of Anatoly's true intentions. Helping a Shinigami like this just out of kindness was most certainly not what he would ever do, to him they were Spirits that needed to be gotten rid of. At least eventually, for now they were mere tools for him to accomplish what he had came to do here in Karakura. This one and what could only be described as a sentient murder of crows just made everything so much easier.

"Let's get some cover first, down the stairs we go," he would quickly utter, pointing with his gaze at a single door in the middle of the roof at which they stood. Whatever these things were, they seemed to act like actual animals, so perhaps a simple door would prevent them from following. Could birds even open doors? Either way, quickly putting the Shinigami's hand around his shoulders he would help him move and with haste they would go towards the door that led to their safe heaven. Hopefully the spell which he had cast would do it's job and prevent those birds from following after them. It was a rather powerful binding spell after all, using a calamity to draw in the enemy and keep it in a prison of wind.

Upon reaching the door, Anatoly would quickly open it, help the Shinigami get in and just as quickly close it. Of course, by helping the Shinigami enter the stairwell, this process would not go as quickly as he wanted to. But, he did need his little guinea pig. This could also be said for the crows outside, they needed to stay there for what was about to follow. They too were a part of the experiment.

Upon passing a few stairs and reaching the next floor, the Shaman would slowly let go of the Shinigami, letting him stop and rest for a moment. In the meantime he would utter a few more words to himself while aiming his open palm towards the door to the roof. Snow and wind would be summoned and hurled towards the closed door, covering it and closing the gaps with a bit of a frost, making it impossible for anyone to open the door in a traditional manner. As he did that, he would also turn towards the Shinigami adding: "This probably won't stop them for long, if you want to survive you will have to trust me and accept what I am offering you. I can let you borrow some strength from withing you, all you have to do is accept my contract."

Fatigue pressed him as the door was thrown open, as he followed, shifting his weight on to the man. The moment struck that he was probably dying but somehow it felt...alright. The ache pounding in his skull heightened sounds drowned out by the movement as they made their way in, and the door shut behind him. He pushed himself to keep up with his saviour. He let out a little chuckle. Truly this was the kind of opportunity that came once in a lifetime, shame it was so late in his.

As they made their way on down, Kisho doing his best to silence his grunts of pain and effort, he decided that this was a strange human to be sure. Saw spirits, check, had the kind of power to hold that thing at bay, also check.

Power over elements? Did humans have this kind of power always or was this a new thing? He made a face while he tried to puzzle over it. At last, they paused long enough for him to try to catch his breath, uneven and easy. The man, at last, made his intentions clear. Kisho met his gaze and stared him down.

Shuckster, but not a fraud. He didn't have Kisho's best intentions at heart, but he certainly didn't go out of his way to hurt him. The world was in pandemonium, and yet this person was here helping him. What were his options? If he turned him down, he would die slowly, spill his blood upon the floor of this stairwell and expire. The fitting end he imagined for himself and yet...

As he considered it, the pressure in his head lightened, his playful grin returned. He felt light, not in a worrisome way. It was the same kind of lightness that he felt when for a moment he really cut loose against Watari. The kind of lightness that came from saying,

"Fuck it." He leaned off the wall, and extended his hand towards the man, bloody and weakened but firm. "Make it happen. Show me what you can do."

Approval was all Anatoly needed and now that the Shinigami had given it to him, it was time to start. They wasted too much time as is, the sound of the crows slamming into the door could be heard even where they were and it was only getting louder and louder. There was just no time for formality. Pushing aside the man's extended hand, Anatoly would quickly slam his right hand onto the Shinigami's chest making him once more lean on the wall behind him. "This might hurt, so don't move." Unlike with Nao, he did not have the luxury of fully preparing everything for this so a shortened version would have to suffice. The Shinigami not moving was a must, if he were to move at the wrong moment, the connection could get severed and that would just cancel the whole thing.

Within a moments notice, Anatoly's once warm palms would suddenly lose all their warmth and the Shinigami could begin to feel chills running down his entire body. Frost would begin to form across his skin and clothes, even till the point where he would find himself stuck to the wall on which he was leaned. Then, a fade blue hue would appear radiating from the Shaman's palm as he pulled out a single string coming from the Shinigami's chest. At this point the other man would probably feel a decent amount of pain as a fragment of his own soul was basically being pulled out. Ignoring whatever reaction this may have caused, Anatoly would simply continue with the process. Placing his hand onto his chest, he would connect the string coming from the Shinigami to himself, binding them together.

As he did so, a chant would rapidly be spoken. "Encased in ice, I bind our souls in a contract. Soul with soul!" Somewhat different from the last time as there was but a single connection, in this occasion Anatoly had no desire to attempt and control whatever was about to come out so he had no need of connecting their minds. Considering what happened last time, it was much better to just let it rampage and deal with whatever those crows were on it's own. The disembodied crow tumbling down the stairs and speaking nonsense was a clear sing that he made the correct decision, there really was not much time left. Hopefully the Zanpaktou Spirit dwelling inside this Shinigami was just what they needed. Well, for the Shinigami that is, Anatoly had his methods of getting away.

Kisho wasn't a stickler for the rules and regulations. This whole contact defied about every edict about non-intervention in human affairs outside of engagement within mission parameters. He knew because he'd pretended to sleep through the entire lecture on it. It would have been better for him, for the Seireitei, to accept is ignoble fate and fight on, winning or dying under his own power but...

He couldn't shake it. This sense of wrongness. It did matter, didn't it? To live? Survive? To take whatever chance you could to keep fighting another day? Even if it was a trap it was better than the inevitable future to take an uncertain chance. There was no outcome worse than death, that he could settle on. Why it felt so hard to come to that realization...

"Trust me, I'm familiar with pain," he joked grimly and leaned back against the wall as directed. The swarm was working against whatever he'd done to hold the door. He couldn't imagine what chance they had but this man was full of surprises alright. He stayed stock still, pressed himself against the wall, closed his eyes and centred.

It helped to stay calm, to be able to turn it on and off at will, because if Kisho couldn't he would have died long long ago. Swallow your pride, let go of your indignation, quiet your fury, let go of your fear, do not indulge your sorrow.

Kisho held back the grimace as the chill filled through his body until he began to tremble imperceptibly from the cold. Frozen to the wall he wondered briefly if this was just a very long, very strange way to kill him. He opened his eyes, glanced down as the string pulled from his chest, and then was crushed by the intense, incredible, existence tearing pain that the Shaman's ritual entailed.

He let out a growl, low at first but broke into a deep roar of pain. It last for the duration of the chant. It was strange, feeling the nature of your existence get twisted, like his bones being twisted around but physically remaining unmoved. He felt his blood boil in his veins, he felt his head pound, the world spun. He would have fallen if not for the fact that he was literally stuck to the wall. This was a mistake but there was no way to undo it now.

It was done.

She moved to step forth and found herself suddenly pulled back, tugged at the robes by the encased ice at her back. She let out a little laugh, warmth spilling from the bright peel. She spared a look at Anatoly as if to say, oh you, before digging in her feet and pulling herself free. She looked down at herself, at her hands and body, at the blood pooled about her feet and let out a plaintive sigh.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you."

She looked back up towards Anatoly. "And what. Am I going to do. With you." She smiled wide with a cheery grin and regarded him plainly. She was a simple-looking woman, she stood tall, nearing six feet. She had long white flowing hair that drifted behind her stretching past the small of her back with a few strands that caught and framed her face. Her skin was nearly porcelain white. Nearly unadorned save for the faint flavours of red that dressed her, on the trim of her robes, on the pristinely applied colour to her lips, on the fringe of the bottom of her robes where a faint floral pattern could be seen, stretching up and fading to the pure white for the upper portion. Her feet were bare, absent the long socks and sandals of the Shinigami.

She touched a hand to the hilt of her Zanpakuto. Her Zanpakuto, and drew it easily in one fluid motion.

"I suppose your fine to depart, though if you wish to see more, your assistance is welcome," she said, her voice warm and light, a pleasant timbre that came across as melodic without apparent intention. She turned up the stairs and leapt upward, gracefully landing on the bars of the upper level where the crows were near entering.

She crouched for a moment, hanging utterly balanced on the narrow ledge and held the blade to her side. She hopped down and made her way towards the sealed door with a casual sway, and started to hum a playful melody.

It was amazing how different Zanpaktou Spirits could be in comparison to their owners. Having met Murat, the latest installment of a Shinigami getting a gender swap was not that much of a surprise. That did not however mean that Anatoly could not look her in awe. After all, she was beautiful. For once he could not keep a straight face, eyes widening, jaw dropping. He was quite close to saying something but luckily, her gentle voice brought him somewhat to his senses, he still hadn't quite explained some things to her that she most certainly did need to know.

Quickly climbing after her as he could not just leap like that, the Shaman would speak as he went up the stairs "I'm afraid that I can't leave, if I do, the contract will be cancelled. If that happens, well, your wounded friend will have to deal with this on his own. Not sure if he's up for it, but you can ask him." The blue string was still there and for now it seemed to be okay, albeit apparently only the one who made the contract could see it. For some reason neither Murat, Nao or this lady could see that they were still connected to Anatoly. Which, he was perfectly fine with. If this ended up being troublesome for him, he could just do what he did with Murat and pull it out and get his reward. Doing that too early would ruin the fun so it was much more interesting to see what was going to happen now.

Catching up to the lady and stopping at the last stairwell before the door, Anatoly would finally see what exactly those birds were trying to do up there. It was quite the sight, blood and guts spilled everywhere. Apparently individual crow lives did not matter to this bunch, it was almost as if the whole murder of them was one entity working to accomplish what they were set out to do. Purely following their hunger they did anything they could to get their prey. The mere thought of it did somewhat send chills down the Shaman's spine as he could not imagine having to deal with every single one of these things if they wanted to defeat the true enemy. He did hope he was wrong, but the evidence was there. These things and their movements, they did not seem like the way many would act but more like just one. Hopefully this spirit had a plan.

She let out a little lilting laugh as she leaned her head forward and listened to the sound of the renewed efforts. Ahah, they were studying it were they? She'd barely have to lift a finger then. She moved about, making some bizarre calculation as she shifted her position back, held her blade at weird angles and nodded to herself when she seemed at last satisfied.

She glanced her head over towards Anatoly. "Understood, but do be careful. A minimum safe distance should be considered at least three meters at all times," she intoned, taking a practice swipe through the air. Kisho would be fine. After all, she had exactly the same tools to work with as Kisho did, and she was going to be fine. Probably. Maybe it was unwise of her to take this moment from him, but she had the feeling it would be educational and besides. She deserved a little fun. She grinned as the silence fell.

Eye of the storm.

"Just make sure you follow me-" she said and began to move a moment before the door crashed open and the cacophony drowned out the rest of her message. She had positioned herself with this exact scenario moment in mind and glided forward easily, her bare feet propelling herself towards the swarm. She picked her path quickly, without much thought and sprang forward, using her momentum and the surge of the crows to pass through them and come out the other side. There was likely some better option but this one felt right.

Her blade swung easily, flowing through the air and bisecting, carving through the swarm as she passed as if passing through a whirlwind of blades. A show of force, it seemed like a smart little creature, it seemed to like to learn and she was in a teaching mood.

She touched ground atop the roof, outside and embraced for a moment the glory of an Earthen sun and its heat and warmth against her skin as she slid to a stop. She pivoted to face the swarm, held her bloody blade to the side and smiled.

A dozen cuts across her body began to bleed, frantic talons scratch from an innumerable horde, wisps of her hair caught in the wind along with her now stained and somewhat tattered robes. She hoped her little friend was able to follow. It would have been a real shame if the swarm got him.

Standing on the stairwell behind the spirit, Anatoly would simply nod at what she said, watching her every step and anticipating what she was about to do. Even though he was helping her and the Shinigami she was apart of due to his own personal gain, he still wanted to see what sort of a power she possessed. The last pair had some odd ability to command everything that had words written on it, it was quite annoying to deal with. Hopefully she could do something just as interesting.

Luckily, he would not have to wait for too long as the crows had finally realized how to get through a door with their sheer numbers. And just as they did, the girl would ask him to follow her and immediately jump into the onslaught head on. Well, that was most certainly not what he had in mind. Not sure if she would hear him or not, he would simply reply with a "no, thanks." There was no way he would do something that insane, especially unarmed and wearing a new shirt! He had his way of dealing with things like that and it did not include suicide. Hopefully she would actually manage to escape before he did what he planned as what he was going to do would probably cause her injury as well, if she was still stuck among those crows.

With a simple backwards leap from the middle of the stairwell, as if he were trying to get away, Anatoly would easily position himself for quite the crazy stunt. Aiming his already quite chilly right palm towards the outburst of crows he would invoke the one spell that he was most familiar and best with. From his palm air so cold that it would form snowflakes around the Shaman would be blasted right at the crows that were on direct path towards him. As it did, further gusts of wind carrying the same subzero temperature would form and aim at the birds that dared to try and lay their claws on the one who commanded them. "Cold Wave," the Shaman would calmly utter as the cold embrace would encase the birds in ice and throw them out of the stairwell and into their still lively comrades.

Falling back from the force of his previous spell, the Shaman would now aim his left palm at the approaching wall and with the same calmness add: "Dust Tornado." With those words, the same gust of winds that initially trapped the crows, albeit at a much lower intensity, would be blasted out of the stretched out palm. They would hit the wall first and prevent the same from happening to Anatoly. Not only that, by increasing the output a bit more, he would blast himself through the opening that his previous spell and the female spirit created and get himself out of the stairwell and into the open rooftop that was by now covered with quite a few crow-sicles.

However, naturally this risky little ploy did have his flaws. The crows that were just frozen could not all be blasted away by the winds as their numbers were quite incredible. Some of their icy bodies did get in his way and he was now standing at the roof behind the girl with quite a few cuts all over his perfectly new shirt. Luckily, his body did not sustain as much damage as his friend, bruises and shallow cuts. Apparently this Shaman was sturdier than he looked like. But he was a bit upset with what just transpired, his shirt ruined, these crows actually proving to be much more of a hustle than he initially anticipated and this lady being even more reckless than Murat. Was it all really worth it?

"Now what?"

She loved the feeling of this stolen moment. The tense feeling in her chest, the flow of the real air on her skin, the sensation of the sun, of the stinging pain of the dozen or so cuts and scratches. The feel of her life as it hung in a moment at least adjacent to peril it was freeing and it overrode any sense that it was wrong. After all, she knew him well enough to know the outcome of the next few beats had she not taking the reins. He'd hold up his sword, knowing he'd die and swing his sword until he proved his own fatalistic prophecy. Notwithstanding the moment the man pulled him into that room the path was clear, he could have evaded them at any time.

But that was Kisho, her Kisho. She knew he'd get it, eventually, so it was okay that she'd take this little dance on his behalf.

It was over as quickly as it'd begun. Her little plan to make a show of force convinced the birds they were enough of a threat to not be worth overcommitting to, and in a panic, it swept away. She couldn't hunt it down, and there was no sense killing a bird or two in what, revenge? No doubt there'd be more. She sighed wistfully but artfully spun her blade clearing it of any errant blood before smoothly placing it away and tutted. A form capable of such grace, wasted, wasted! Such an indifferent man.

She waited for a moment to make sure the mass didn't wheel about then turned gently towards the manand danced over towards. She was a bit of a grim visage, her pristine appearance marred by a fair amount of blood, the crows and hers.

"Well, I suppose that's that for now, but somehow I don't think you're wholly satisfied." Her smile had an eerie quality. She stepped lightly in the direction of the crows departure, feet planted around the bodies of the crows since dispatched and the wreckage of the door and wall that once held as a barrier.

"As fun as this is, I'm afraid I must request your help in returning us to our proper state. I don't know how familiar you are, but it isn't my place to be out and about in this world."

The dispersion of the black cloud could only mean one thing, it was all over, for now at least. Lacking any interest in the few remaining singularities that remained, Anatoly would gladly remain on the side as the white clad spirit lady danced and took care of it all on her own. Her visage was truly breathtaking even while stained in the blood of her enemies, she really was nothing like the previous Zanpakto Spirit which he had met. These differences between the Shinigami and the spirit that dwelt inside of them were so easy to spot, despite sharing a soul and a body, they were nothing alike. While her movements were light and as if carried by the wind, the Shinigami who was in her place previously seemed so crude and stiff in comparison.

Realizing that even if he wanted to, he would not be needed, Anatoly would simply turn back towards the entrance that lead into the stairwell from which they came. He had some cleaning to do, sealed in ice there remained some crows that were caught in his spell. Unlike the ones that were cut down and killed by the Shinigami and his spirit, the ones that were sealed by him still remained perfectly preserved. He could even see some of them twitch and try to break out of their imprisonment. It was to no avail of course. Calling out the name of his wind spell for the third time today, the shaman would summon a minor tornado, having it suck in all the frozen crows in one place next to him. Despite not initially intending to use Hollow material in what was about to follow, the sheer number of these things did seem to be quite usable. But first, the other part.

Just as he had done his tidying up, the white lady was done with hers as well and apparently she was ready to go. This did make Anatoly a bit disappointed as he most certainly wanted to see more of what she had to offer, a display of her true power maybe? But, the two of them were too much for the crows so there was no need for that. Considering that he did intend to return them back to the way it was before, he did not of course have any quarrels with her wish. Naturally, he was not going to reveal the price of their little deal, that detail was something that was better left unmentioned. Especially since this girl was at the height of her strength and could easily ruin it, dealing with a wounded Shinigami post battle was much easier for him.

"Yes, one of your kind did explain it to me. Well, his kind, not yours to be more specific. The one of your kind that I had met was not welcoming as you are. I guess it is time, hope you don't regret giving back the control to that man." Giving his regards and best wishes in the only way he knew, the Russian would offer a few snarky remarks as a good bye. He wasn't going to see her again but he most certainly did appreciate her contribution, in this battle and in what he intended to do next.

With a single twitch of his hand, Anatoly would pull the light blue string that would once more show itself to both of them. By doing so, it would detach itself from the spirit and be pulled back to him. However, just like with Nao and Murat, a little present would be brought back, a singular light blue orb. This was the content which he wanted and was after, it was finally time to get it. Of course, at this point there was nothing either the spirit or the Shinigami could do as the transition would already begin. She would quickly vanish and he would once more appear, probably in a bit of a shock. It would not surprise Anatoly if the man couldn't even stand after all of this, his body was previously quite beaten up and additional strain would most certainly do that to someone.

"Welcome back."

She smiled softly, she had a feeling this wasn't his first rodeo if for no other reason than his familiarity with the approach and lack of surprise. Perhaps he was just that kind of guy, always presenting this tough unflappable exterior. She gave a little giggle at the thought, they were rather alike, weren't they? She inclined gently to him. "I'll do my best not to. We all have our part to play, and he deserves his chance in the sun too." She tilted away and closed her eyes, feeling the end begin.

The corner of her lips twitched as the agony of the shift that enveloped Kisho soon took her too. She let out a tiny sound but her expression never faded from the joyful and serene expression as she embraced the last moments of the living world and its end.

A shuddering of their form, a flash of blue light enveloped it and then, it changed and before long a wearied Kisho in its place. True to the predictions of the strange shaman the whole experience absolutely took its toll.

Kisho stagged and half fell, bracing himself with his sheathed Zanpakuto and kept his knee from touching the ground. He took a moment to catch his breath, a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin but, undeniably...

He was alive.

He turned his gaze towards Anatoly and nodded but said nothing perhaps trusting that it was all said or just a little bit too tired to say much. It took him a moment but he steadied himself. His expression had shifted a little, his demeanour just a little bit...different. He fixed Anatoly with his gaze and waited to see if the other shoe would drop.

Everything was finally over but at the same time, it was the start of something new. The contract was canceled and the clueless Shinigami was once more back to his true self, his spirit returning to where it belonged. Holding in his hand, Anatoly held the portion of their souls and it would have seemed that this was a win-win situation for all but the crows. They all got something out of it and the crows lost. But, the shaman was not done with the taking.

"Behold Mr. Shinigami, I present to you a portion of your soul," he would suddenly speak out, turning towards the exhausted man as he held the small orb in his right hand right in front of the other male. The smirk on his now scratched face growing quite wide and sinister. This was after all what he had waited for. He had let the Shinigami obtain power to get rid of the crows or at least weaken them so that he may reap the benefits. However, this was not the only thing he was going to show, pulling out of himself would be a second orb. "And this is the portion of Ms. Nao. With these two soul fragments and the crows that I have imprisoned in ice I will finally be able to achieve the first part of what I came here to do. I do have to offer my gratitude as you so nicely offered yourself to me, none of this would be possible without it."

He had changed, all this plotting was finally done and he could finally realize his ambition. Drunk on power Anatoly was basically flaunting the other male. For once he did not have to hide what he had intended to do, it was all basically over now and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop him. The Shinigami that groveled beneath his feet was probably too weak to do anything in such a state and he knew that, he knew that if he wanted to he could make him suffer more. But, there was no time for that, perhaps if he was opposed his hand might get forced to do something. Not now hover, the finale of his ploy took the priority and it was time to welcome a new actor to the stage.

"Now watch as I create something new or feel free to leave, I am after all done with you," he would utter, turning around and getting back to the frozen crows all previously gathered for this one purpose. Realizing that these two souls might not be enough to construct a spirit guardian, Anatoly had decided to use these remaining crows to fill in the gaps. It was something he planned to do from the moment he arrived and yet even he could not anticipate so many of them being so easily caught in his sealing spell. There was no time to waste however, he could see some of them twisting and moving inside the ice as they tried to escape. Even without their group there seemed to be an instinct to survive that each and every one of them held. If left like this they would eventually break out of the ice and be freed, who knows what would that cause, perhaps their friends would return and that would be troublesome.

Stretching both of his arms in front of him and above the plethora of frozen crows, Anatoly would finally prepare a new contract. Eyes fully closed and with maximum focus he would begin to gather all that he could muster in order to make this work. The air around them would slowly begin to feel light and chilly as the temperature started to drop. The once separate icy prisons that each contained a single crow would begin to merge into much larger blocks of ice before finally creating a large pillar that would reach Anatoly's hand and cover them and the two soul fragments that belonged to the aforementioned Shinigami. It was done, the ice encased it all. The contract was ready. Now, all that had remained was the chant. "Encased in ice, I bind our souls in a contract. Soul with soul!"

For a moment nothing would really happen, it would seem as it did not work. But, in a sudden flash of light that followed, the result would reveal itself. The ice would instantly shutter and Antoly would notice that what he once held in his hands was actually gone. Quickly opening his previously shut eyes he would finally be able to glance at the final product of all his hard work.

Standing tall, much taller than Anatoly was, a humanoid creature would show itself with the clearance of ice and dust. Dark blue hue covering his body with red stripes crossing across it, it would spread it's wings. Large and powerful talons replacing his arms and legs, the creature would appear as if it took most of it's attributes from the crow Hollow. It was still human-like, as if it donned a crow armor. There were no eyes however, only a single crimson orb held by what it could only be described as a beak looking helmet. It truly was a remarkable creation, leaving it's master in so much awe that he would be unable to utter a single word.