The First Division training grounds lay deserted under the veil of night. A full moon shimmered above, casting pale silver across the polished stones and ancient sakura trees. The serenity was a lie.
Lan Yan stood alone at the center of the yard, shirt torn, blood crusted along his ribs. Zhuoyin pulsed faintly at his side, the blade humming with agitation.
Across from him, Kutsuki Renjiro crouched low, his right arm trailing black Hollow reishi like smoke. His left eye glowed yellow beneath his tattered headband.
"You don't know what they did to me," Renjiro growled. "The Gotei branded me a failed experiment. Cast me out like a curse."
Lan Yan steadied his breathing.
"I don't care what they called you," he said. "But I won't let you harm anyone else."
Renjiro snarled. "You think you're different from me? You and your perfect light—"
He vanished in a flicker of sonido, reappearing behind Lan Yan with a sweeping kick.
CLANG!
Zhuoyin rose in an instant, intercepting the blow. Sparks exploded across the blade's edge as the impact rang like a bell. Renjiro skidded back, panting. Hollow mask fragments shimmered briefly across his cheekbone.
Lan Yan frowned.
"That form—how long can you maintain it?"
"Long enough to end you."
Renjiro lunged again, claws extended. His reiatsu flared, dark and unstable, but potent. Lan Yan parried the first blow, then the second—but a third claw scraped across his shoulder. Blood sprayed across the moonlit ground.
Zhuoyin shimmered. Lan Yan's spiritual pressure surged.
"Too slow," Renjiro spat, diving again.
But this time—
"Shine, Zhuoyin."
The world blinked.
Light exploded from Lan Yan's blade, not as an attack, but as an overwhelming flood of radiance. It blinded, burned, disoriented—forcing Renjiro to falter. For a heartbeat, he was exposed.
Lan Yan dashed forward, blade aimed low.
"Stop."
The command came not from Lan Yan.
Not even from Renjiro.
It was Lanran.
He stood at the edge of the training grounds, one hand raised, his presence calm yet undeniable. The Yōkugan shimmered in his eye.
"Renjiro is not the real enemy," he said.
Lan Yan froze. Zhuoyin trembled in his grip but quieted.
Renjiro collapsed to one knee, chest heaving, mask fragment crumbling away. The Hollow reishi around him dissolved like mist.
"I... I didn't ask for this," he whispered. "They told me it was a chance. To be stronger. To survive."
Lanran stepped closer, gaze unreadable.
"You were another test subject. Like us."
Renjiro didn't answer. But his silence screamed.
Lan Yan sheathed his sword. "Who altered you?"
Renjiro looked up. His remaining eye burned with hatred—and grief.
"There's a lab. Beneath the old Sixth Division barracks. I don't know who funds it, but... they're experimenting on captured souls. Splicing Hollow and Shinigami essence. Trying to replicate... you."
Lan Yan and Lanran exchanged a look.
"Trying to create more like us," Lan Yan said grimly.
"They think we're prototypes," Lanran added.
Renjiro's breath rattled. "You're not prototypes. You're the blueprint."
He collapsed.
Later, within the shadows of their secluded compound, the brothers stood in silence. Moonlight filtered through the latticed roof, catching on the silver sheen of their blades.
"We need to find that lab," Lan Yan said.
Lanran nodded. "And destroy it."
"But not before we find out who's running it."
A new voice echoed from the doorway.
"You'll need help."
Kurotsuki stepped into view, her long coat flowing like liquid ink.
"I can get you in."
Lan Yan raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
She looked at him, unflinching. "Because they tried to use me too."
Lanran's eye narrowed. "You're a survivor?"
"No," she said coldly. "I was an accomplice."
Her confession fell heavy as thunder.
Author's Note:
Light clashes with shadow, but sometimes they come from the same blade. Renjiro was only the beginning.
The truth lies buried beneath Seireitei—and someone wants it to stay that way.
Lan Yan. Lanran. Kurotsuki.
The hunters have become the hunted.
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