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Prologue
The Wandenreich castle stood tall and solemn amidst the flavorless winds of Hueco Mundo's colder, more rigid northern region. A bleak yellow horizon steadily graced the fortress-city's walls and buildings, as if it were not simply the dawn of a new day, but also the dawn of something far worse. Inside the walls of this lone structure, the Wandenreich's lower ranking soldiers and denizens, along with several higher ranking figures, were running amok. Unsure of whether to remain at their stations and continue their normal duties, or prepare themselves for the battles that they felt were sure to come following recent events.
Inside of one of the larger central buildings, which acted as the primary living quarters for the Wandenreich's esteemed "Sternritter" division, one particular resident seemed remarkably calm, considering the circumstances.
"I'm gonna take my time..."
Asumu's living quarters, despite the more Victorian-era exterior of the fortress, resembled that of an average American apartment in regards to the interior, with but a single living room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. He was a humble man, unlike many of the previous Sternritter, and never felt a need to live in overly luxurious or expensive quarters. Hell, he had spent much of his life living off of the wilderness and at best, a small log cabin in the middle of no where, so all things considered, this apartment room might as well have been a five-star hotel. A small stereo sat on his kitchen counter, playing a song that always helped Asumu think and relax when he was off duty. The song was loud enough to be heard through most of the apartment interior, but would otherwise not be heard by those in the rest of the complex.
"...I have all the time in the world..."
The white-haired Quincy in question had just finished cleaning himself up after his drawn-out fight with Tier Harribel. Normally, such an event would have required him to report immediately to the Wandenreich leader, Reinhild, but she and the others knew that it took a certain amount of time for Asumu to revert back to his human-self after being in his Lycanthrope state, so he was allowed this brief respite before having to face the music of his actions. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, leaning against the sink just underneath it, staring blankly into his own reflection. He was wearing a simple pair of black jogging pants, having thrown the towel he used to dry himself over his right shoulder, but was otherwise bare, leaving the numerous scars he had obtained over the course of his life fully exposed on his back and chest area.
In particular, he started to look more at the newest scar that was added to his collection; a large stab mark in his left stomach area from where the Shark Empress of Hueco Mundo had impaled him with her large, tooth-shaped sword. Fortunately, his Lycanthrope form's regeneration factor allowed this normally fatal wound to seal up quick enough to where he could walk it off without much trouble, though it was still rather sore. He couldn't help but think fondly of the battle, for opponents like her were the kind of thing that he always sought when in a good fight, but he was also inwardly glad that his voice of reason had managed to prevail; there was no telling how much worse the situation would have gotten had he not decided to retreat.
Still though, he couldn't wait to pay her back.
He knew that he couldn't stand here for too much longer; Reinhild had ordered him and the other, remaining Sternritter to assemble inside of their primary meeting hall as soon as they were ready, and he wouldn't bring more flak onto himself by being late. "...Fuck." He cursed lowly and with resignation, casually balling up the towel on his shoulder and tossing it into a nearby clothes hamper. He turned around to leave, ready to accept whatever punishment his leader would give him.
"Have you gotten taller?"
...at least that's what he was doing, until a snarky, feminine voice emerged from behind him, stopping him dead in his tracks and causing his formerly blank expression to briefly brighten. "Casilda...?" He muttered as slowly turned around to the source of the voice, initially not seeng anyone.
"...cause you look a lot taller. Maybe it's just me."
Upon hearing the woman speak again, Asumu was starting to be convinced that he was going insane, as it seemed to originate from the mirror he had just finished looking at. His attention now fixated on the mirror, of which was now fogged up from excess steam generated from his previous shower, and he approached it, wiping his hand slowly across the foggy surface. Instead of seeing a reflection of himself as before, he now saw an Arrancar woman with vibrant orange eyes and raven black hair. She smiled warmly upon being fully revealed, while he only continued to stare at her in confusion. "How are you here?" He asked after what felt like an eternity of silence.
"You also look like crap." She chuckled, her eyes gradually looking him over. "Didn't you just get out of the shower? How do you take a shower and still come out looking like you just got out of a fight?"
"Casilda." Asumu responded firmly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "How are you here?"
The reflection's expression lowered, but still retained her smile. "Does it matter? I've wanted to see you, and you've wanted to see me, so here I am." As she spoke, her expression gradually became one of gentle concern. "... You've really stirred things up, haven't you, wolf?"
"Yeah... I'm really in the shit now." He said lowly, looking away from her for just a brief moment. "... and I'm not sure just what the hell we are going to do. I'm worried things will only get worse from here on out."
In response, Casilda simply chuckled, causing him to look back up at her. "That's what I love about you, wolf." She said, her voice now becoming more like an echo as the mirror began to fog up once again. "Things are never boring when you're involved."
With that, the mirror fogged up completely, obscuring the woman from view. Instinctively, Asumu ran his hand back across the mirror in the opposite direction that he had done so prior, hoping to see her face one more time, but all he saw as a result were his own blue eyes instead. Surprise, sadness, and frustration were all that they conveyed as he stood at his bathroom sink once more.
If he were already hesitant to leave for his debriefing before seeing his old lover again, he was especially hesitant now.
Having been only in the fray for mere moments, Roland Vimur had no need to return to his quarters to shower after returning to the Quincy's Hueco Mundo stronghold in that moment. Instead, he walked about the courtyard, looking upon his fellow Quincy as he awaited for Asumu to revert back to his unaltered form. While he found the wolf-like infection of Lycanthorpy, a curse upon his race, disturbing, Roland did not hold contempt for his peer for it. Roland knew that, no matter the blood purity of the member, his race was still low in numbers. Any who possessed the blood of the Quincy was welcomed by the Sternritter, a trait that is shaky amongst others throughout their history.
Regardless, Roland smiled as he watched the Quincy move about. However, the fact of their numbers still be low haunted him. Add in the fact that a fellow Sternritter had just battled a Hollow monarch, Roland feared the blood that would be shed on his side should the Queen pursue war. "Even if he betrayed us, we would not have to fear such beasts if his power remained..." Roland said to himself aloud softly, thinking of the fallen Quincy king. It was no matter for now though, their numbers, while low, were strong. Ever more, Roland had his own ambitions that could lead the Quincy back to their rightful place of power when the old king had reigned.
Despite this, Roland looked towards the sky as he knew it was time to get going. The Queen of the Quincy requested the Sternritter to meet. While she was, by no means, as powerful as her preceding monarch, Roland was less interested in the power of the ruler as he was in keeping their race alive. She possessed both, thankfully, but her ability to bring many of the survivors back together is why Roland served her with no complains. Turning from the Quincy scurrying about in the courtyard, Roland made his way to the royal hall.
Out in the far left of the courtyard was a large gathering of Quincy. In front of them was a bespectacled man dressed in priestly garb standing behind a podium. He had his hands raised towards the never ending night sky of Hueco Mundo. It was Leonardo Fromm, a Sternritter.
".....My fellow people! Do you feel it coming at our doorsteps? The time of reckoning and retribution is here! I hear the steps of our fellow kinsmen walking towards the eve of war and it is our duty to support them. Soon, they will meet the savages face-to-face. Soon, they will fight! And what shall I, as a Chosen of Yhwach, am resolved to walk amongst our kinsmen and face the terror head on! No longer shall we stand aside and watch as we await our destruction! No longer shall we wait for annihilation! We will fight for our right to stay on this land and usher in the bright and promised future we all rightly deserve! Prepare yourselves! The time is coming!"
The bespectacled man in priestly garb hid a devilish grin as he finished his sermon. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, listening to the people seated in front of him roared in unison as their feverish motivation hit an all time high.
"Now everyone..I adjourn this sermon for today. The Queen has called for me and for the rest of the Sternritter to meet with her and I must make haste. But before we leave, I ask of you, to reflect on my words today and take them to heart. That is all I ask. Yhwach Deliver Us." The bespectacled man said.
"Yhwach Deliver Us." The assembled Quincy replied in turn. Thus, the sermon was over and the Quincy started to leave, returning to their somewhat ordinary lives in Hueco Mundo. The bespectacled man patiently stood behind the podium as he watched his congregation disperse until no one was left besides disinterested Quincy walking to their destination. Alone, Leonardo began to walk towards the Royal Hall.
"My dear Reinhild, "successor" of his holiness Yhwach, what is so important to call for the Sternritter?" Leonardo asked himself in reflection.
Cang Du’s footsteps, sharp and tense, echoed across the smooth tiles of the darkened corridor as he approached the assembly hall. Outside the central tower of the Wandenreich castle, he could hear the dull roar of a crowd of ex-soldat—no doubt enraptured by another one of that pretend priest’s vacuous speeches. He found it ironic that rumors of treachery should spread about Asumu Godai’s actions even as such obvious subversion was allowed to infect the lower ranks. To Cang Du, it was simply another sign of their so-called “Queen’s” incompetency. After all, as far as he was concerned, Asumu was the only one among the post-war Sternritter who could rival the old guard. He wasn’t sure why the Quincy had gone out of his way to attack the leader of the Vasto Lorde, but then he remembered his own battle against a certain captain of the Gotei 13. His dark eyes narrowed in thought. Was that why he had been summoned? It was well-known that Cang didn’t respect Reinhild’s authority. Perhaps he was going to be reprimanded alongside Asumu. Not that it mattered to him: She was a child parading in knight’s armor.
Regardless, he suspected war was eminent. To challenge Tier Harribel was a reckless act that threatened to disrupt the nearly fifteen years of uneasy peace between the Quincy and Hollows, and it could prove to be the first test of Reinhild’s leadership. That was ultimately why they, the “Sternritter,” had been called together. Unwittingly, Cang felt a shiver across his skin—it was an unbidden expectation—the lust for battle.
Cang paused before the entrance the “Royal Assembly Hall,” as it was referred to, pretentiously mimicking the throne room where once his Majesty had indicted those Quincy who proved to be disloyal to the Wandenreich. For a moment he felt uneasy—There was an uncanny similarity between Asumu’s alleged failure against Tier and that time...
Cang Du placed his hand over the deep, vertical scar that ran straight down across his collarbone and into his torso. But as always, his expression was a mask of disinterest as he entered the assembly hall. Cang avoided eye contact as he passed the other Quincy who were gathered before Reinhild. They were ultimately inconsequential to him, and he assumed his position wordlessly to await the onslaught of words.
Screams of panic and terror raged through the cold, white sands of Hueco Mundo as Mich Farrardt made his way across the unforgiving dunes, paving his way to the Quincy Headquarters and leaving behind what horrible sight that awaited behind him. He had hoped not to face battle again soon, seeing how he was still recovering from the last one, but as fate would have it he found himself once more amidst chaos and destruction. The situation between his brethren and the detestable Hollows finally broke loose, though he himself never considered the fragile peace that had existed to actually hold. He was not the judgemental type, but he had better understanding of peace, and whatever that had been going on between his kind and the Hollows was not it.
His footsteps thundered with urgency and agitation; each step he took was amplified by a certain sense of rush recognizable by those who had experienced death itself chasing after them. But Mich was not in danger. In fact, it could be said that he could level the entire battlefield, save for the current lord of the Hollows and his fellow Sternritter, especially a certain one of the lycanthrope kind. The others seemed disturbed by the presence of someone like this, but Mich couldn't care any less. After all, he had bigger problems; indeed, he may be rushing to the Royal Hall because the new leader of the Quincies required his presence, and he was not in any physical danger, but it was his mind that he feared the most: The faster he ran, the quicker he could get away from haunting memories of his deceased comrades that came like a flash flood. If even a splatter of blood was enough to submerge his consciousness into a spiralling web of endless guilt and torment over being the sole survivor of the last battle he had participated in, he didn't want to stick around to find out where his mind would take him should he bore witness to his brethren being killed.
He held his right in front of his face as he ran past another of his kind preaching to a congregation, his eyes fixated upon his palm. A yellowish glow slithered across its surface, a symbol of his new power. He couldn't care less about how he viewed the controversial situation of his new leader, nor was the type of person to hover above the bigger things and judge from there. No, his resolve was simple: He lived, and though he might be suffering, he would live, and with his new power, he would continue living. For his comrades.
Abraham was never late for most things, which, perhaps, was his only valuable attribute to the Sternritter. It was known that he was a skilled combatant, and someone who had managed to survive both the wars against Soul Society. However, upon meeting him, most concluded that it was by some divine luck that he was kept alive all this time. Afterall, he had no real characteristics of an elite warrior. He wasn’t smart, nor witty, nor calculative like you expected a skilled Quincy soldier to be. He didn’t seem to radiate the raw talent nor battle senses of the other Sternritter. Yet, he somehow lived despite being on the front lines of every major battle.
Even now, he sat as one of the first Sternritter in the Assembly hall with a jovial smile and an attentive attitude. Truth was, Abraham didn’t know much of what was happening. Though, he knew it was most likely connected to the events that unfolded between Asumu and the Arrancar Queen. Last time, it was by the grace of the gods that Abraham had managed to arrive when he did, and though they had forced Tier into a consensual retreat, there could be no peace. Rather, Abraham hoped there would be no peace.
He was once a king who descended from a long line of conquerors who were blessed by the gods for their piety. For as long a she could remember, he had dedicated himself to the honing of his powers for war. Thus, war was something he felt as ease about. What came with peace was paranoia and uncertainty. War was simple. There were no petty politics or roundabout ways to gain control. It simply subjugation by force, and if it was anything that Abraham had devoted centuries of time towards, it was his might.
Therefore, he sat in his chair idle, wearing a smile as if he was a playful child and awaited the entrance of his comrades.
Dreiter Weirabe, a Sternritter with stark white hair, decked in complete Quincy attire and a single monocle, was returning from his post on the terrace of the Quincy hideout in Hueco Mundo. He was a watchman, whose sniping abilities enabled him to view threats from a considerable distance away. Throughout the entire conflict between Asumu and Tier Harribel, Dreiter's spiritual senses were tingled, but he was unable to determine the point of conflict and who was fighting.
He placed a finger on his monocle, and tried to calm his breath. Hyper conflict situations like these added considerable stress to him, and he had to ensure he was calm so he could perform his duties properly. Unlike the other Sternritter, Dreiter's abilities were not granted by a true Schrift, but were products of his own training and focus. He did not have the luxury to be swept up by battle and still battle at peak performance. Instead, he took repeated deep breaths as he made his way into the meeting room.
Dreiter had merely hoped that he would be ready for any oncoming battles.