If this were a cop versus terrorist movie, it would be the scene where the terrorist had planted a bomb somewhere, or one someone, and the main cop character had to somehow defuse it while someone actually qualified told him which wires to cut.

The sweat wasn’t pouring off of me like I was standing under a shower, I actually wasn’t all that sure that I couldn’t even sweat at all in this Life Bringer state. Not during something like this, evidently.

The Hollow shifted its weight back and forth, trying to loosen the ribbon of silver that confined it so thoroughly. Fortunately for us, the Hollow was basically a walking sack of flesh and random parts, nowhere near as physically powerful as the Adjuchas has been, especially with its desecrated Zanpakutō.

The blade only dug deeper into its flesh as it moved, binding it further as I slowly worked through the complex rat’s nest of connections that the Hollow was riddled with. It was, by far, the most poorly created being I’ve ever seen. The edited Hollows and even the edited Adjuchas, looked stable in comparison to this thing.

It was clearly done intentionally; it was made to be extremely complex and overly confusing. It was created, with purpose, to be unable to sustain its own existence. It was almost torturous to look at it, let alone work with what was there.

“Top staple at the back of its head.” I called out calmly, like a surgeon would as they extracted a tumour from a patient’s brain. Kisuke, having fallen into the groove of assisting me, quickly moved to identify the staple I was talking about. Which was easy, seeing as it was the last one on the Hollow’s body.

Practicing excessive caution, Kisuke tapped the large, metal staple with the tip of his Zanpakutō gently, making it flare brilliantly in my advanced spiritual vision.

“That one.” I announced before the man could ask. He nodded, and a moment later the Hollow let out a terrible scream with an audible spray of fetid blood. The stench was terrible, but my focus overpowered the slight instinct to gag.

“Alright.” Kisuke said calmly, though there was an underlying tone to his voice that tweaked my mind slightly, “Do we do the mask now?”

I looked up to the Hollow, across its body and up to its massive, jumbled mask which still had stapled in it, holding it together.

“No, not yet.” I said solidly, trying to understand the internal workings of this Rube Goldberg machine of a being. “Even if I fix it, we still can’t kill it. The staples create instability, and the Hollow would have broken down after a while, but if we kill it, it still serves its main function. Nothing changes.” Kisuke turned back towards me from looking at the mask.

“So we need a way to banish it? I have a way to open a gate to the Garganta, but nothing that would accommodate something of this size.” I shook my head.

“Its created to want to stay here, and it will stay here even if we try and push it out. It’ll just find a way back, its not a permanent solution.” I said lowly, desperately trying to think of an option, a possibility.

“Then we could throw it out into the ocean? Or into the sky?” Kisuke continued, but I shook my head again.

“This isn’t a direct one to one of a bomb in spiritual form, Kisuke.” I said, trying to explain the inner workings of a soul and a body to such a degree was almost impossible, though Kisuke was a quick study, “If this Hollow’s soul explodes, they’ve made sure that it’ll cause as much trouble as it possibly could. It’ll pollute hundreds of thousands of square kilometres of land with Hollow energy, killing everything and replacing it with the counter opposite of what should be living here. Do you want to see the world turn into a zombie movie, Kisuke?”

The comment was a bit tongue in cheek, though it was just as serious as the rest of it. Even a little spiritual energy from a Hollow within a mother was enough to irreparably change their human child into someone capable of wielding powers, but a soul exploding? The amount of energy that would release is gargantuan. Actual death of a soul is extremely rare, and the effects of it is immense.

“Wait.” Kisuke said after a moment of contemplation over the struggling Hollow. “We can’t kill it. Why?”

“If we kill it, the soul still remains for a while, we’d have to purify it by sending it to hell, right?” I asked, though I knew I was correct, “Immediately after it dies, it’ll detonate its soul. Its designed that way, there is no counteraction for it.”

In my extremely detailed spiritual vision, I saw the oddest thing happen. Instead of the look of neutral consternation that Kisuke had been sporting for the past half hour, there was a wide grin, manic and gleeful like a child who’d just created a terrible, terrible plan to annoy the neighbour’s kids.

“But we don’t have to kill it.”

I pondered for a moment while Kisuke bathed in the expectation of stunned silence, but instead of the reluctant question that he’d been expecting, I nodded sharply.

“Then you’ll need to bind it again, if we want this to work, I need to start looking.” With a quick flick of my hand, the ribbon blade retracted gracefully, pulling through the abomination’s flesh before becoming the long, beautiful blade it was at rest.

“Wait, I–” Kisuke began, but I’d already begun to move my feet, pushing against the concrete surface of a building, and zipping through the cluttered economic districts of Karakura, in search.

In search for something very, very important.

Kisuke Urahara watched as Grayson Carter disappeared into the distance with speed that could probably rival most Soul Reapers that sat below learning flash step. It was, however, a far more precise movement pattern than Soul Reapers used, something that Grayson was showing himself to be uniquely gifted in. Precision and senses.

It took ungodly precision to work on a soul the way that he had over the past half hour, his mind constantly moving with the organic moulding of a soul into a more stable thing. Kisuke had the easy job, the equivalent of taking the last hit on a Hollow that another Soul Reaper had set up for you.

He didn’t bother to call on Benihime’s name, though, which was something his Zanpakutō spirit didn’t like, but allowed for the purpose of the moment. She was a jealous mistress, that one. Forever paranoid and extremely wrathful. Something that he had found reflected within himself more often than he liked.

He let the crimson net restraint he Hollow, who had been noticeably bereft of almost all attacking capability. If it had wanted to, it could have attacked physically, and it’d certainly do a fair amount of damage, but it wasn’t capable of a Cero.

It was a mindless Gillian-class Hollow, even more mindless than a regular Hollow, according to a study he’d done far too long ago. They were the conglomeration of far too many Hollow souls to ever truly be distinct from one another, to show and real personality, even if this specific Menos had interesting parts of its body. It wasn’t nearly as homogenous as the regular, but it was created out of regular Hollows and supped up to be a Gillian-class.

The Hollow before him was his main worry at current, and if it were to have some counter measure for the plan that he and Grayson had somehow managed to wordlessly share, then his last-ditch effort would be his Bankai.

And Kisuke really didn’t want to call his Bankai.

Though the other worry Kisuke had still stayed at the back of his mind, and he could only hope beyond hope that Grayson would continue to be preoccupied enough to not notice it.

Suzumi was gone. Kisuke had noticed her missing spiritual pressure almost instantly, only for the thought to be interrupted by a voice communication from Tessai telling him what he had needed to know.

Suzumi wasn’t just gone, she’d been taken. But the Onmitsukidō of all groups.

‘Why? For what reason?’ It was baffling to Kisuke, there was no good reason, no obvious reason at least. He hated not knowing, it was something that Kisuke hated more than anything else. He didn’t understand what was going on in Soul Society for this to happen. For someone to be taken to Soul Society, someone human, Central 46 had to sign off on the order.

For Central 46 to order something so… brash was totally unlike them. Central 46 was intensely conservative, and Kisuke had been on the receiving end of far too many judgements to believe that they would change to being so quick to move on something.

Central 46 wasn’t something that changed so quickly, and while they claimed to work on the orders of the Soul King himself, but everyone knew that they hadn’t received a proper order from the Soul King since Yhwach, and maybe never would again.

Suzumi was a blip on their radar, an insignificant being from the Human World. Kisuke had no reason to believe that they’d treat her any different than they had the Fullbringers for centuries, leaving them to simply exist within the Human World until they tried to encroach on Soul Society once or twice.

It was the main reason that Kisuke had escaped to the Human World specifically, rather than Hueco Mundo or some other place that would be closer to the epicentre of the grand plans that Aizen had been cooking up. But Kisuke wanted to be where the Soul Society had decided not to meddle in, and he’d succeeded in that.

Even as Kyōraku had taken power over the Thirteen Court Guards, nothing much had really changed in the Human World, not after the first decade or two of increased patrols that they’d managed to sway the patrolling Soul Reapers away from their home.

But with Central 46 holding him back, Shunsui was unable to truly change that much, other than what the Court Guards held jurisdiction over. So, why were they moving now? What would have motivated them to do so?

Who sent the order?

Kisuke felt a pang of fear run through him, the first real taste of the emotion since he realised that he’d been just as duped by Aizen oh so long ago, even if he’d been more aware than the others had been.

The terror of having to think about Aizen all over again, so soon after he’d been locked away, was palpable. Kisuke couldn’t believe that it was Aizen behind this. He wasn’t so droll as to try the same tactic twice, something else was going on all together.

And now, it was going to come down to them to figure out what the hell was going on and, once again, he wouldn’t even be able to go into Soul Society to do it himself.

the Hollow screamed its terrible wail, even the normally bone chilling voice of a Hollow was further distorted by its horrific physiology.

“Oh, shut up you.” Kisuke said darkly and, surprisingly, the Hollow followed the order, returning to its regular squeals of pain as his net burned against its skin. Kisuke sighed deeply, morose in his contemplation.

“Grayson…” He said, eliciting another sigh from himself, “He’s going to want to kill me for not telling him.” Kisuke looked out to where the man had disappeared to, almost allowing himself a look of sadness.

“Congratulations, Kisuke Urahara,” he said to himself with sarcastic joy, “you get to play the villain once again.”

It was easy to forget how ridiculously powerful my ribbon sense was until the very moment that I could use it and make it shine. It took a footnote in practicality to the overwhelmingly useful spiritual senses that I’d developed.

However, the ribbon sense I had was always powerful. It took no developing, nor any conscious effort on my part to improve it. Because it’s a visual representation of my understanding of the soul. It was something that I’d slowly understood more and more as time went on, starting on my own, then Suzumi’s, then Hollows, and before long I was capable of restructuring them.

Now, I had access to more understanding than ever, with Grayhom inserting himself within the very stones of my soul to complete it. Now, I was truly a Life Bringer, and so my ribbon sense was far more powerful to accommodate.

I didn’t bother to use my eyes, the inefficient tools that they were. All they were really good for was colour and watching Suzumi’s face as she slept right next to me. Other than that, I found them useless things that took up space on my face.

Sometimes I would wonder if I’d even miss them that much if I were to lose them again.

And now, I could confidently say that I wouldn’t.

I could sense every ribbon that came even remotely close to Karakura Town. At first, I could see the ribbons of those I knew, coming to the forefront of my mind, but I pushed them away, even as I passed by Ururu as she took care of a group of Hollows alone, perfectly capable of fending off a small wave of them after knowing her family was safe, it seemed.

Though there was a niggling loss that brushed gently across my brain, like something in the landscape of your city was missing, a skyscraper suddenly vanished from its rightful place, but I disregarded it for now. Now was not the time.

I focused completely on my spiritual senses, quickly brushing away any ribbons that didn’t fit what I was looking for. Again and again, I cut swathes of ribbons down, narrowing it to be precisely what I wanted.

Hollow ribbons.

The moment I found one of them, I found all of them, cutting the human ribbons and… Soul Reaper ribbons? Way too many Soul Reaper ribbons. What’s going on over there–

I felt it first, before I saw it, cutting me from any thought I could have been having.

It was a slight feeling at first, quiet and almost unassuming. But then it turned on me, and I felt it in its true power, the power that had once sent my unconscious just by comprehending it for afar.

This was the soul that made ever other I’ve met seem inconsequential, at least barring the scant few who were clearly more powerful. But this soul was different, and now I knew why.

I shot towards the ribbon, finding myself only so far from where we’d been living for so long now. I approached; two hundred metres, one hundred, fifty…

And there it was. Standing atop a roof, standing beneath the clear daytime sky, looking off into the distance with a calm that seemed so intrinsically dichotomous to a Hollow, but yet it did.

It was looking off into the distance where the Hollow we’d been working on stood, taller than any of the buildings that surrounded it by far. The Hollow was tiny in comparison, not even as tall as the other’s ankle, but it was so much more than its contemporary.

I jumped, swiftly rising up to place myself on the other side of the roof from the Hollow, observing its reaction to my presence. Or, in this case, a complete lack of a reaction. As I looked deeper into its waif thin ribbon, in the blood that seeped from the hole at its end, I could understand why it didn’t react. I could understand why it was so absorbed with that sight of the Hollow standing amongst the concrete forests of the Human World.

I took one step closer, then two. It continued to not react, its emaciated form poorly hidden beneath the shawl of white that was wrapped around its body, its teardrop shaped mask slightly ajar at its mouth, showing the black depths contrasting against the powerfully stark white teeth lining each side of its jaw.

Without even thinking, I had come to be standing right next to it, quietly observing it as it stood, enraptured by its desire.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

At a speed so unthinkably fast, Phantom stood right behind me, its mask only centimetres from the back of my neck, ready to bite and eat my whole.