NEW SLAVES PT. 2 [FEAT. MINERVA]

Crash!

The very moment that the spirited girl’s spear contacted the door, a blaring red alarm emitted an echoing quake throughout the sound waves. Every sapient life form the base was alerted of their presence and a multitude of cameras throughout the corridors thwarted towards the broken pathway. A rumble of purposeful footsteps crashed in their direction, multiple representatives and associates of the Le'Valiér twisted and twirled about the hallways in the direction of the intruders.

The fun had begun.

“Go ahead in, I sense your parents in there and my secretary.” Ashton advised, taking a soft stroll into the base. He placed his forefinger on his temple, blinked twice and summoned a demonic red hue to his optics. His eyes systematically torqued in every general direction as he utilized his newfound visual acuity to see past every wall to count the amount of incoming enemies. “One, five, ten—ten Quincy are heading this way with their bows drawn. They’re weak, but be careful with them; I don't want to unnecessarily kill anyone in here.”

A pile of grunts shot through their eardrums as a collective of ten professionally dressed men with white spiritual bows drawn imposed themselves into the corridor, blockading their path with a seemingly volley of shots. The redheaded figure boldly stepped in front of Minerva’s path to avoid her getting turned into a pincushion, though he eerily refused to withdraw his weapons and simply continued strolling as a humanoid shield.

“I’m covering you, when you see a stop in their shots, knock them all out.” He casually ordered to the female, uncaring of the hundred bolts being fired at him.

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The scenario in its entirety would have been much easier if the executive was really bulletproof, but the pain did nothing but amplify the malevolent grin upon his visage. Moments into his stroll, Ashton had been turned into a pincushion from the hundred holy arrows; nearly every inch of his frontal body was covered in white arrows, fortunately he stretched his left arm to cover his heart and face to avoid an embarrassing incident. Had it not been for his overpowering spiritual power, blood would have been spewing from his being—there was not more than an ounce of blood and not a twitch of pain; there was only chaos.

“Let’s do it!” The man chuckled approvingly, casting a heightened volume over the blaring alarm.

Every single one of the grouped Quincy before them found their faces pinched in fear and confusion, not only had their enormous volley of bolts failed to crush their mark, but they did not visibly harm the man, and with the young woman pushing behind him the two were rocketing forth at the discombobulated group! Red strands of hair tangoed backwards and shoes pattered, and before their eyes could blink Ashton, Minerva, and her spears had quite literally crashed into all of the trained agents like a battering ram.

There wasn’t a single being not unconscious or dazed except Ashton and his female companion, and as he tumbled downward into the mix of professionally attired Quincy, he as nearly trembling with laughter—despite having ten dozen arrows protruding from his body. After a few moments, he surprisingly managed to get to his feet. His eyes were too crinkled with hilarity to see if the white-haired maiden was settled, yet traces of his demonically glowing eyes allowed him to gather the imposing surroundings.

“I…I like the way you think.”

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Hilarity gradually met its trembling end, and glowing red eyes came to deliver a prolonged gaze upon the snow-haired beauty. Through his heightened sense, he surveyed the entirety of the area simply by staring at her; calculating the amount of interference upon the multiple routes as well as the speediest path to rescue her parents. A hand grasped upon the black and red handle of soul-fledged steel, introducing it to the loud atmosphere, and with one geometrical stroke, he had cleanly cleaved into the roof and walling of the left and frontal paths, causing the structure to slowly cave in to blockade those paths.

“Don’t let the debris get into your eyes.” He grinningly said, strolling away from the amassing puff of dust. “Hurry up, wrecking ball.”

The Zanpakutō clasped into its sheath, leaving him to walk onward with an excess of arrows protruding from his body. In retrospect, he was probably a disgusting freak of nature, but the holy bolts were nothing but an annoyance to his unfathomable pain threshold. Locks of ruffled wine-colored hair sped their pace as intruding projectiles slapped off the male’s forearms, legs, torso, and entire frontal body; the reishi merely dissipating into the ether.

“My secretary and your parents are close, bu—!” A curious grunt tumbled from the male’s lips, his body whisking backwards a few paces as his arms outstretched to coordinately carry his companion back with him. The wall composing the long corridor erupted with a spiritual spike, cleaving through the other end; tiny red molecules dancing onto the ground from the executive’s cheek. He switched the modes of his cybernetic implants and visualized a multitude of trap-inducing lasers throughout the plenitude of the pathway. Compared to the other routes, this was tame for them.

“How fast are you, Ms. Alanis?”

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Wine-colored eyebrows whisked upward with the unbearable suffering of denial, it was heartbreaking to know that his female companion wasn’t a woman for unnecessary risking her life for intrigue. He scoffed; taking a pace in reverse as her membrane seemingly manifested a strategy. If he planned on making her an operative in his organization, this was as good a time as ever to witness her strategically prowess first hand. Glowing red orbs examined systematically as three spears made their move, twirling about as they awakened every trap in the long corridor; fire blazed, spikes protruded, thin beams emitted, and gas shrouded.

“No, no that’s good.” He said, rubbing his chin. “Hold that.” The syndicate kingpin took purposeful strides forward, remembering the casual device sloped upon his left forefinger. His hand rose as the spears contained the entirety of the traps outward. The silver ring on his finger began to glow of an illuminating white, wind shuffling his clothes and hair backwards as the piece of jewelry assumed a vortex effect and suctioned every trap right into the ring, any pureblood Quincy manifestation was targeted, Minerva’s spears included.

In a simplistic moment, every form of manipulated reishi had been absorbed into his ring and caused the spears to fly backward towards it. With his quick reflexes, the elder soul cupped his glowing ring with his free hand, and sidestepped the oncoming spears from a useless impaling. His body ready to maneuver his female charge from the collision if need be. “Maybe you can help me build a super scary lair later on, Minerva.”

Ashton simply walked forward into the harmless corridor, his feet twirling to back-pedal and beckon his company forward. “Are you ready? I see your parents and my secretary in the turn to the left.”

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“I’ll le—!” The witty remark of a baritone paused with the patter of a boot, eyebrows cocked with an awkward chuckle, as if bracing for the spiritual intermission. He was trained to handle dangers like this on a daily basis, but this was a dance new to his companion. It wouldn’t be a surprise to see a bead of sweat slither down her forehead, if not ruin her footwork entirely. He continued to stroll slowly through the trembling ground; small bits and pieces of the ceiling crackling onto his shoulders, though as he halted at the end of the corridor and turned his head to his companion, there wouldn’t be a word in her dictionary capable of encapsulating the purpose in his eyes.

A grinning pause ensued, a dextral hand hovering over the butt of a sheathed Zanpakutō.

“They’re only trying to scare us.” He laughed, “I would actually be scared if I didn’t have my trusty Goddess of Wisdom with me.”

His form disappeared around the left corner of the corridor, glowing red eyes purposefully peering through wide granite dual-doors with a simple dead-end behind him. A hand gripped around a black handle accented in a grandiose maroon, the hollow center of the steel coming to rest by his side. His jaw narrowed downward, and the bulk of sarcasm seizing his visage whisked off, leaving pure confidence to curl his lips and solidify his eyes. The moment the female situated herself comfortably near him, his mouth would part to display a deep, commanding tone.

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Glowing red orbs rolled in whimsical exasperation, the new placement of the female companion injecting an extra dose of jest into the smirk etched upon his face; and there wasn’t room for a contour of fear. He simply ignored the white holy arrow that nearly pierced the young woman, and gave less of a day for the following bolt that burst blood from his chest. The grip upon his handle tightened, while a circuit of thought gave birth to mysterious kanji at the base of the steel; and Soul King knows that a logical plan wasn’t its father.

“It’d be a goddamn pleasure.” He chuckled, the end of his breaths exploding with his jumping form. His boot crashed in the wide entrance, and incited pure chaos into the room as he rode the door in. His mechanical vision cast their sights upon a grand cavern-like room encompassed by gigantic blue crystals emanating with an alluring amount of spiritual power. His heightened peripherals finding two fair-skinned male Quincy directing guns at his head on both of his sides, with a short female materializing behind him with a bow drawn on his female companion.

His form crouched ever so slightly, and his blade turned into a distorted blur and carved into both of the men surrounding him; knocking them clean onto the ground with a small pool of red to bed them. He trusted Minerva to handle herself, and darted up a small flight of stairs into a small circular arena flooded with a dozen Quincy with a plethora of different spirit weapons readied on him. His boots skid against the black dirt as he froze defensively, with pearly white clenching under an unwavering grin. A gorgeous dark-skinned female stood confidently encircled by her array of battle-ready warriors. She clapped with a hearty laugh, pacing sluggish steps towards the fifty meters of distance.

“It’s good to see you again, Shinigami!” She started, fitting on a pair of tight black gloves. “All I wanted was the girl, and here you are being a pain in the ass for me again.” She sighed, cracking her neck with a clap that sent a tremor throughout the entire area. Her fists clenched and invited a mighty purple essence to twirl about every curve of her muscular body. “Give me the girl, I’ll give your little secretary—and this doesn’t have to get messy.” Her purple pony-tail shook backward with a tilt of the head, showcasing three severely damaged hostages tied up and unconscious in the outer edge of the arena.

Ashton couldn’t help but to snort. He had the chance to betray Minerva and leave her parents in order to get his most valued asset back—but at the price of missing out on such delicious bloodshed?

“I suggest bathing with dove next time.” He said with a straight face. “And a toaster.”

The sigh that parted from her lips was so drawn-out that her caramel skin hinted of purple.

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