JULY 9, 2014.
Post by Hattori Heiji on Jan 16, 2014 13:26:34 GMT -5
ITALY; ROME
ABOVE THE VATICAN
The Shinigami's standard method of inter-dimensional travel opened. First one door and then another, revealing a world of pure light. Stepping out were two members of the Juuichibantai, its captain and her assistant, even though they were far from the traditional definitions of their roles.
The monk of the Shinigami race visited upon the holy city of humankind, the accumlation of faith, if there was one in the form of an institution. The site wasn't all too different from that of New York City, a place they'd both occupied some time ago.
Massive parts of the city had been razed. Ancient culture -- judging by the lifespan of humans -- had been destroyed and left in rubble and shards. Even so, life continued. Nestled within the heart of the city, like a diamond that the invaders had beeen unable of harming, was the Holy City. The Vatican.
Even though barriers protected it, the accumulation of spiritual power in this place could be more than felt. It almost personalized the air with cold arrogance of a mighty seat of power. This was the signature of those trying to stand instead of God. It filled Heiji with conflict and turmoil. Maybe they were ripe for a cleansing.
"Do you sense his presence anywhere in the city?" Heiji wondered, peering down toward the world of the living. Entering big centers of population was always a stretch on Raijin's tendencies to absorb and channel vibrations. A million voices prayed to God for salvation, at this moment.
Luckily for them, Heiji had come.
Considering there were sharper senses among the Gotei 13, when it came to sensing reitatsu and signatures, it was unlikely either of them felt more than a rough idea. Heiji didn't feel anything pertaining this man at all. He'd never crossed blades with him, after all. Only adding to the dismay was that the place below crawled with spiritual energy, far more concentrated and swamped than any part of the human world should be.
ABOVE THE VATICAN
The Shinigami's standard method of inter-dimensional travel opened. First one door and then another, revealing a world of pure light. Stepping out were two members of the Juuichibantai, its captain and her assistant, even though they were far from the traditional definitions of their roles.
The monk of the Shinigami race visited upon the holy city of humankind, the accumlation of faith, if there was one in the form of an institution. The site wasn't all too different from that of New York City, a place they'd both occupied some time ago.
Massive parts of the city had been razed. Ancient culture -- judging by the lifespan of humans -- had been destroyed and left in rubble and shards. Even so, life continued. Nestled within the heart of the city, like a diamond that the invaders had beeen unable of harming, was the Holy City. The Vatican.
Even though barriers protected it, the accumulation of spiritual power in this place could be more than felt. It almost personalized the air with cold arrogance of a mighty seat of power. This was the signature of those trying to stand instead of God. It filled Heiji with conflict and turmoil. Maybe they were ripe for a cleansing.
"Do you sense his presence anywhere in the city?" Heiji wondered, peering down toward the world of the living. Entering big centers of population was always a stretch on Raijin's tendencies to absorb and channel vibrations. A million voices prayed to God for salvation, at this moment.
Luckily for them, Heiji had come.
Considering there were sharper senses among the Gotei 13, when it came to sensing reitatsu and signatures, it was unlikely either of them felt more than a rough idea. Heiji didn't feel anything pertaining this man at all. He'd never crossed blades with him, after all. Only adding to the dismay was that the place below crawled with spiritual energy, far more concentrated and swamped than any part of the human world should be.
From underneath the shadows of a broken apartment appeared a short child, easily no older than twelve or thirteen. His hair was black and long; his skin fair and unmarked; and his attire covered by a bellowing white cloak. On his face was a smile so broad and naive that it simply had to be hiding something behind it. And though the Kenpachi couldn’t see his face, and though no one could feel his spiritual pressure, the killing intent pouring off of him was thicker than rain. 
