A sudden, violent tremor rocked the store cutting short John's unspoken refusal towards Z's frantic request. The ground beneath him bucked as and a low, guttural rumble vibrated across the floor. Yet nothing toppled from the meticulously arranged shelves. The establishment seemed to possess an almost magical resilience as its contents seemed to clinging to their places regardless of the shaking. Beside him, Z, usually composed or excited seemed to switch once more, now radiating an intense mixture of annoyance and fury as their green eyes narrowed, not towards him through but towards whatever had caused the tremor.
Rushing out of her store that was set up inside the worn-down shop they noticed the tremor's source. Infront of them them stretched an intimidating horde easily numbering sixty strong. At their vanguard, perched precariously on the colossal shoulders of a beast-like man, stood their apparent leader. The beast like man-mountain was a grotesque parody of strength, rippled with muscles so engorged and veiny they seemed on the verge of tearing through his skin. To make it so much worse for them he only wore a crude gimp mask and a pair of tattered shorts, a detail John found himself rather thankful for, as the thought of observing a "full primal" display was enough to turn his stomach and dampen any fighting spirit. The leader himself seemed to be rather study and out of place when compared not only to the beast of a man but also the rest of the fighters, he was alarmingly gaunt with long, stringy grey hair that hung in greasy strands around a face John could only describe as snakelike. His eyes were slits, almost permanently closed and yet he radiated a chilling, predatory awareness. His arms dangled limply at his side, adorned with layers of loose red and black scrap armor, a common and crude uniform among the motley crew of Chaos Marauders now spread before them, each brandishing an assortment of crude weapons from rusty pipes to jagged knives along with a few scavenged swords and axes, he was positive he could even see some crude magic staffs. John wouldn't have been surprised if they had a gun or two hidden away as well as an ace.
Ash, seemed to take this exact moment to break the tense silence. "A greasy and messed up Gin? If he's here then does that mean Aizen is hiding somewhere? And weren't you a good guy in the end? And then there's the Bane reject alongside you which is definitely an odd choice of companion" she quipped, her voice surprisingly light as it cut through the dread. She glanced around with a flicker of mischievous expectation in her eyes, but no one responded to it making her pout and seemingly revert to her more quiet, introverted form. It wasn't that John didn't want to humour her, but rather that the air was too thick with tension, that which came from a pre-battle hum.
The skinny figure's voice was nasally, carrying with it a condescending sneer that was amplified by some unseen device. "So, there was a merchant here afterall? Good, good. It seems their information was accurate then. Hand over all the items you acquired from the merchant and then take us to your pathetic hovel where I expect you to give us everything else you have, if you do this and we feel happy with what you give us then I might consider letting you live. As for you, merchant," he added, gesturing dismissively towards Z, "I expect you to accompany us and sell your wares to us at a considerable discount after all the trouble we went through to find you." He spoke with an air of authority, clearly accustomed to obedience and having his way. But instead of fear or obedience his words were met with a harsh, unbridled burst of laughter from Alice.
"And why the fuck would we, Mr. Gin? I may be having fewer mad moments lately but clearly you were dropped on your head as a baby if you expect us to just do all that. I mean, you really think we will just do what you say without any arguments or a fight?" She asked, her laughter infuriating him further.
"My name is not Gin, its—" He began to grind out, only to be cut off by a very angry Z.
Z's green eyes, which had been flickering red since the tremors now burnt entirely crimson. Their syntho-voice, usually a controlled or excited became a deep, almost monstrous growl that vibrated with raw, synthetic fury. "WHERE YOU THE ONES WHO ATTACKED MY STORE!" the words thundered, echoing off the surrounding buildings. 'Gin' merely scoffed, a cruel, high-pitched laugh escaping him. "And what if I was? What can a stupid merchant possibly do about it? All you lot are able to do is scavage and sell stuff, your kind is only good for giving us stuff! Or are you truly hoping this pathetic rabble will be of any help against my forces? Just surrender now and spare us all the wasted effort! Come in irons and obey or else!" He practically shrieked the final command, his belief in his own superiority echoing across the street.
At this declaration, Z's entire frame began to tremble, not with fear but with an unleashed yet controlled rage. The red in their eyes growing darker, turning into glowing embers. Alice however, was already in motion as she launched forward. Like a serpent uncoiling she threw herself directly into the amassed forces, her madness and bloodlust breaking out after being suppressed and controlled for so long. Her entrance was a gruesome like a macabre dance that became a whirlwind of death and destruction. Her scythe swinging wildly as it carved wide arcs through the air held only by its base to get the widest swings as she felled Marauders with brutal efficiency. Those she weaved around were met with the swift, silent kiss of her dagger, slicing and dicing, warm blood splashing into the dust-laden air and across her form. She was a reaper, a whirlwind of crimson chaos as she moved with utmost grace, yet utterly devastating against anything in her path.
Not to be outdone, Ash moved with a different yet equally lethal grace. Her fingers found the thin, metallic collar encircling her neck. With a deep breath and decisive determination, she flicked a switch on it causing the device to shimmer, seemingly dissolving into her skin with a palpable, almost physical pulse. Her eyes flared, glowing a dark and ominous purple as she muttered something under her breath, her fingers forming a familiar cross. In a series of abrupt, smoke-filled puffs, four copies of her materialized, each mirroring her determined expression and wielding an axe identical to her own. The original stood back, barking orders and seemingly coordinating the quintet as they leapt into the fray, a maelstrom of whirling axes that tore through crude swords and scrap armor alike. Where Alice was a nimble feather, guiding death with each stroke and weaving between them the Ash's was a brutal boulder, crashing through all resistance without care with a manic grin on their blood splashed faces. The enemies were not just defeated but utterly mangled as the girls tore through them, leaving many who weren't killed outright writhing on the ground and groaning in agony, desperate for the release of true death. Two of the copies were caught by a lucky blow and dissipated in wisps of smoke, but her remaining two doppelgangers continued their relentless advance, carving a path of destruction until they stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Alice amidst the enemy ranks. A savage grin split their blood covered faces rivalling the sheer bloodlust radiating from Alice who seemed to be enjoying herself. The ground was already a grim tapestry of fallen bodies; the enemy numbers visibly having thinned out to an extreme degree.
Gin, witnessing the ruthless efficiency of their opposition began to shriek, his voice cracking with frustrated rage. "Attack them, you idiots! There are more of you than them!" He frantically fumbled from his makeshift bandolier, pulling out an array of strange, glowing syringes before, with disturbing indifference he began to hurl them at his own men, both those withering in pain still fighting. Batch after batch of needles sailed through the air, striking those who hesitated, those who showed even a flicker of fear along with the half-dead groaning on the ground, even those still fighting weren't spared showing his disregard for his own people. A chilling silence fell over the battlefield causing them to stop for a brief moment, that Alice and Ash copies fully took advantage of, but that moment was quickly followed by the horrified screams of his men.
Alice and Ash, seemed oblivious to what was happening, lost in their murderous ballet as they kept cutting them down. They seemed to have found a strange and brutal equilibrium: Alice making use of her new, almost invisible ribbon to deflect incoming blades and stabs, while Ash's clones moved with an unyielding brute force that knocked enemies aside while simultaneously bisecting others with her mighty axe. John, though, watched with growing horror, his hammer still in hand, but his resolve wavering. Unlike the girls he still couldn't bring himself to end another human life as easily as they could. He clung to the hope that he wouldn't have to, that their brutal efficiency would be enough to end this battle without him needing to kill anyone himself as awful as that sounded. But then the victims of Gin's strange syringes began to scream even louder, their cries escalating from pain to something far more primal. Alice and Ash, in their blood-soaked focus, didn't seem to notice any of it but he did. Each person struck by a syringe had started to violently spasm, their skin tearing and their forms grotesquely expanding in horrifically at random. Some sprouted spiked clubs for arms, others razor-sharp claws. A few bulked up, growing monstrously large as their fists transformed into immense, grotesque hammers, they looked like nightmarish younger brothers to the 'hulk' Gin stood upon. Their faces had even begun to melt away, there features dissolving into a smooth, featureless horror that would make Voldemort appear exquisitely handsome. Each metamorphosis culminated in a bloodthirsty roar, a sound devoid of humanity. Even the severed, half-dead Marauders on the ground began to change, their fragmented bodies squirming and fusing into abominable, fleshy chimeras. Wriggling limbs, stretched tongues, strange, chitinous carapaces and gleaming bones jutted out from their grotesque forms, sometimes even from their numerous, unnerving eyes. Their previous weapons, broken or not had even melted and reformed, becoming deformed extensions of their new flesh, some even taking the shape of pulsing, flesh-like guns fused into there forms. The air grew heavy with the stench of ozone and iron.
Gin's laughter echoed, manic and triumphant. "Hahaha! Keep fighting, fools! Those who don't will get a extra shot! And as for all of you, no matter how many times you cut them down, I'll just keep making them stronger until you finally die under their overwhelming weight! Getting bigger and deadlier!" His voice, though still amplified, was now tinged with a furious desperation, his anger clearly overriding any semblance of sanity he may have still had.