moltenconflict02: bleeding lunatic's heart

Nabill watched as the Quinta appeared beside him. It was impossible to properly talk to him, as the screaming of hollow and arrancar above drowned out any sounds. Instead the Primera nearly nodded towards the berserker and pointed his right blade at the mountain’s molten peak. That was his destination. Between him and that point were one thousand battles he had to go through first. Whether Vaaen understood that he was to come to find the demon in the mountain or not was inconsequential. 

In the blink of an eye Nabill was gone, and before that eye could register what had happened, twenty fights had already ended. Black, green, red, and violet blood created a warm rain around the espada. Hollow and arrancar were torn apart, their distended limbs and disgusting abilities useless against the speed of swords so fast that the afterimages left afterimages. It was impossible to quantify the speed of Nabill’s slashes. It was impossible to comprehend where his blades were land next. Most swords moved in a line towards a target. Masters had theirs move in a hard-to-read arc. Nabill’s did neither. His twin katana merely appeared inside of whatever faithless fool caught his attention. 

Suddenly the Primera stopped as a massive explosion of sulfur and brimstone occurred above. Torrents of lava flowed down only to be diverted by the two zanpakutou. Eyes narrowed, Nabill waited to see what monstrosity had decided to foolishly bar his path. 

Nabill ducked as a burst of lava came flying at him. He dived in towards the growing cloud of smog, his blades singing as they deflected and redirected the constant streams. Arrancar and hollow around were forced to stop their battles as the strongest espada made his move. Some were even obliterated by stray flows, melted down to their bones. 

All of these distractions were ignored by Nabill. His mind was in a state of zen focus that no enemy could shake. The only thing he could feel was the beating of his heart. The only thing he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. He only smelled the fear of his opponents; saw another corpse yet to be created. Thus even when the beast lashed out from the smog and confronted the Primera, Nabill didn’t flinch. 

It was a fearsome creature. The beast was a two headed monster whose masks took the shape of two massive bear skulls. Magma painted glowing rivulets across its teeth and around its golden eyes whilst fire wreathed its body. It roared at Nabill, too hungry and too powerful to acknowledge its instinct to run. Had it been allowed to continue consuming, it may have one day hit the heights of some of the lower espada. 

“Pathetic,” Nabill stated. 

The beast’s left arm went flying, crashing through a dozen arrancar who watched dumbstruck as a monster of terrible power was reduced to a kneeling, bawling cub. 

A second slash and it was shorn into two halves, both of which collapsed at the Primera’s sides and turned to dust. 

“Pathetic, faithless mongrels.” Nabill’s voice was so light it could barely be heard. 

Those with a lick of intelligence stopped fighting, but many continued. Nabill took in one deep breath, spread his legs, and raised his chin. 

“Stop.” 

Nabill’s soul screamed. The battle of the mountain had lasted for nearly a century, but the battle within Nabill’s aura was older than that. It felt as if every single soul on the mountain had been in constant combat for the last thousand years. Many fell to their knees, and many more died. It was a howl so deafening that only one could stand through it. 

Turning to face that man, Nabill’s eyes went dark. “Vaaen, are you a fool?” 

Brimstone fell from above like rain upon the desert. Rocks the size of baseballs bounced off the corpses of dead arrancar and forced the living to look up out of annoyance. Each time one approached Nabill, it was vaporized. While the scream of his soul had died down, it was still a constant explosion with seemingly limitless fuel. Vaaen, a man of wrath, was like to notice the subtle change from annoyance to agitation that took place. It only served to make the air around Nabill more violent. 

“Vaaen,” the Primera spoke out. His voice was steel. “Why have you let a power this large stew in the heart of this mountain for so long?” 

Mayhaps the Quinta didn’t understand what he had done. Since before Vaaen discovered this land, the constant battle on this mountain had raged on. Every day hundreds died, and their souls paid tribute to the spirit that had possessed the volcanic rock. It was hard to sense at first, but Nabill now realized it was the real reason his walks had lead him here. 

The mountain quaked, and Nabill almost lost his footing. Geysers of heat exploded from the rock and melted the eyes and skin off of the poor souls caught by it. There was a tension in the air, and Nabill gave the ground a look of disgust. More and more heat began to pour forth, especially from the top. Long rivers of magma boiled up in random spots and created orange lines down the rock face. 

Nabill’s swords were flipped into a reverse grip. Red lights formed along the edges, mixing with the firelight to turn the blades into one appeared to be two orange swords of fire. 

“This mountain--” 

A thick spiritual pressure alien to Nabill smashed into his shoulders like a meteor. He grunted and revved his own power up in response. 

“--Is the source of this cataclysm.”