Chapter 108: Below Freezing Point, Absolute Zero
"Ah..."
Kotetsu Isane stood trembling violently beside Unohana Retsu, her arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she curled inward on herself. The thin fabric of her standard Shinigami uniform provided virtually no protection against the supernatural cold that had descended upon the battlefield. Her breath came in sharp, visible puffs as her body struggled to maintain core temperature against the relentless chill.
The sudden, dramatic temperature drop affected her more severely than the others—her physical conditioning had always focused on healing arts rather than combat endurance, leaving her particularly vulnerable to environmental extremes like this.
Recognizing her lieutenant's distress, Unohana Retsu quickly formed the necessary hand seals and began chanting: "Bakudō no Nanajūsan: Daishanjing!"
A massive blue triangular crystal materialized in the air above them, its faceted surfaces gleaming with protective energy. The barrier hummed with spiritual power, designed to shield occupants from both physical and spiritual attacks.
"Isane, you and the other vice-captains need to take shelter inside immediately," Unohana commanded, her voice carrying the gentle but absolute authority that her subordinates had learned to recognize. "This is not the time for misplaced pride or stubbornness."
"But Captain, I can still—" Kotetsu Isane began to protest, her sense of duty warring against the obvious reality of her situation.
"As a vice-captain, you must learn to assess tactical situations accurately," Kurotsuchi Mayuri interrupted, his tone clinical but not unkind. "Your captain has correctly determined that you can no longer contribute meaningfully to combat at this level of intensity."
His golden eyes fixed on her with scientific precision. "Allowing personal pride to override sound judgment will not only cost you your life—it will actively hinder our ability to fight effectively. We cannot afford to divide our attention between offense and protecting those who lack the capability to survive in this environment."
Before Isane could formulate a response, Zaraki Kenpachi's gruff voice cut through the frigid air: "Yachiru, get in there too."
"Hai! Have lots of fun, Ken-chan!" Kusajishi Yachiru responded with characteristic cheerfulness, completely unaffected by either the supernatural cold or the gravity of their situation. With a playful hop, she bounded into the protective crystal barrier.
Seeing that even the fearless Yachiru was complying with the order, Kotetsu Isane abandoned her protests and reluctantly followed, gritting her teeth against both the cold and her wounded pride.
"Nemu, you as well," Mayuri commanded, turning toward his artificial daughter.
"Must I also retreat, Mayuri-sama?" Nemu asked, her usually emotionless voice carrying a hint of anxiety. "I am capable of providing combat support."
"There are no exceptions to this directive—it is a direct order!" Mayuri's response was sharp, though notably he refrained from the harsh berating that would normally accompany such questioning. The unprecedented nature of their situation had apparently tempered even his notorious temper.
"Yes, Mayuri-sama," Nemu replied with her characteristic obedience, entering the barrier without further protest.
With the non-combatants secured, Unohana Retsu began weaving an even more complex series of hand seals, her spiritual pressure rising as she prepared an additional layer of protection.
"Tentai kōra, chijin kōra," she chanted, her voice resonating with power that seemed to bend the very air around them. "Kōmyō wa mabayui, masaku no mahō wa fūin."
The incantation built in intensity as she reached its climax: "Bakudō no Kyūjūsan: Jikō Amaterasu!"
A brilliant yellow triangular crystal manifested around the blue barrier, creating a double-layered defense that pulsed with concentrated spiritual energy. The combined barriers were designed to withstand attacks that could level city blocks.
The moment Unohana completed her defensive preparations, Fiander moved. His form blurred through the frigid air, appearing directly in front of her with speed that made even her centuries of combat experience seem inadequate. The ice blade in his hand gleamed with lethal beauty, frost crystallizing in the air around its razor-sharp edge.
"Have you finished delivering your final words to your comrades?" Fiander asked, his tone carrying the casual politeness of someone inquiring about the weather rather than preparing for mortal combat.
"Your arrogance knows no bounds, Arrancar!" Kurotsuchi Mayuri snarled, his scientific composure cracking under the pressure of the situation.
His Zanpakutō thrust forward with desperate precision, the blade seeking vital organs with the knowledge accumulated through countless dissections and anatomical studies. The attack was perfectly executed—under normal circumstances, it should have been impossible to avoid or counter.
But these were far from normal circumstances.
"How interesting indeed," Fiander chuckled, reaching out with his bare left hand to grasp Mayuri's blade. The steel edge, sharp enough to cut through spiritual matter with ease, failed to even scratch his skin. The weapon simply stopped, held fast by fingers that seemed to possess the durability of diamond.
Without breaking eye contact with Mayuri, Fiander brought his ice blade around in a graceful arc aimed directly at the scientist's head. The crystalline weapon sang through the air, promising instant decapitation for anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in its path.
The distinctive sound of steel meeting ice rang across the battlefield as Zaraki Kenpachi's massive Zanpakutō intercepted the killing blow. Despite their usual antagonistic relationship, despite the philosophical differences that kept them at odds during peacetime, both captains understood the necessity of cooperation when facing an opponent of this caliber.
"Still persist in this futile resistance?" Fiander asked with mild disappointment. "As I have already explained, Captain of the Eleventh Division—in your current state, you are simply too weak to matter."
The ice blade in his right hand moved with casual force, and despite Kenpachi's considerable strength, despite his reputation as the most physically powerful captain in Gotei 13, he found himself hurled backward through the air. He sailed nearly thirty meters before managing to arrest his flight, his feet carving deep furrows in the frozen ground as he struggled to regain his balance.
Rather than pursuing his advantage against the temporarily displaced Kenpachi, Fiander instead turned his attention back to Kurotsuchi Mayuri. The ice blade swept toward the scientist with lethal intent, its crystalline edge promising a quick but decidedly unpleasant death.
"Hadō no Hachijūgo: Raikōhō!" Unohana's voice cut through the arctic air as purple lightning materialized above them.
Simultaneously, she deployed a second technique: "Bakudō no Rokujūsan: Sajō Sabaku!"
The lightning crashed down upon Fiander's position with devastating force, while golden chains of spiritual energy wrapped themselves around his attacking arm in an attempt to bind his movements. The combination attack represented decades of tactical experience and perfect timing.
Fiander paused in his assault, one hand reaching up to pat his silver hair back into place where the lightning had disturbed it. His expression remained serenely amused, as if he had just experienced a gentle summer shower rather than a captain-level offensive technique.
"My, my" he said with gentle mockery, "are you quite certain it was wise to make physical contact with my weapon?"
The moment the words left his lips, supernatural cold began radiating outward from his ice blade. Frost spread along the golden binding chains with terrifying speed, racing toward Unohana's position like a living thing seeking to claim new prey. The very air around the chains began to crystallize, creating a pathway of death that would freeze her solid the moment it reached her body.
Recognizing the immediate danger, Kurotsuchi Mayuri made a desperate decision. He deliberately snapped his own Zanpakutō at the point where Fiander held it, using the moment of surprise to create distance between himself and their opponent. The broken blade remained in Fiander's grasp, but more importantly, the severed portion began to bubble and hiss as it transformed into a pool of violently corrosive purple liquid.
The acid spread across Fiander's left hand with the hungry efficiency of a living thing, designed to dissolve organic matter down to the molecular level. It was a technique that had proven effective even against Vasto Lorde-class Menos Grande in the past.
"Crack!" The sharp sound echoed across the battlefield as Unohana made her own tactical decision, drawing her Zanpakutō and severing the binding chains before the spreading frost could reach her position.
Zaraki Kenpachi chose that moment to rejoin the battle, having recovered from his earlier displacement. Once again, the three captains formed a loose triangle around their opponent, though their earlier confidence had been replaced by grim determination tinged with growing desperation.
"Heh heh," Kurotsuchi Mayuri's voice carried notes of savage satisfaction despite their dire situation. "That dissolving acid is capable of completely liquefying the body of even a Vasto Lorde-class Menos Grande. I may not fully understand what manner of being you truly are, but touching my blade so carelessly was a fatal mistake."
"Hmm?" Fiander lifted his left hand to examine the spreading purple corruption with the sort of casual interest one might show when studying an unusual insect. "You mean this purple foam that couldn't harm a small bird?"
He turned his attention back to Mayuri with a smile that was both beautiful and terrifying. "Please, by all means—observe carefully."
Ice began forming along Fiander's left arm, not the natural crystallization they had witnessed before, but something far more deliberate and controlled. The frozen coating spread upward from his fingertips, encasing the corrupted flesh in a shell of absolute zero temperature. With a sound like breaking glass, his entire left arm shattered into countless ice fragments that scattered across the frozen ground.
For a moment, the severed limb left behind nothing but empty air and wisps of arctic mist. Then, as they watched in horrified fascination, new flesh began to manifest from the swirling vapor. Within seconds, a perfectly formed arm had regenerated, the skin unmarked and pristine as if the injury had never occurred.
"As you can see," Fiander said pleasantly, flexing his newly restored fingers to demonstrate their complete functionality, "your assessment was entirely incorrect."
He held up his regenerated hand for Mayuri's inspection, rotating it slowly to display every angle. "As for your earlier comment about the inadvisability of touching your blade..." His expression took on a note of genuine curiosity. "I confess I'm uncertain why I should feel any concern about such contact. Perhaps you'd care to demonstrate again? Though I notice your Zanpakutō is currently broken—how exactly do you plan to continue fighting?"
Fiander raised his right hand high above his head, extending a single index finger toward the darkened sky. His posture was casual, almost lazy, but the spiritual pressure beginning to emanate from that simple gesture was anything but relaxed.
"I find myself growing rather bored," he announced conversationally. "Your collective strength has failed to generate even the slightest spark of interest."
As he spoke, the temperature across the entire battlefield plummeted even further. The ambient cold, which had already reached minus one hundred and fifty degrees Celsius, continued its relentless descent toward absolute zero. Unohana and Kenpachi, their bodies hardened by centuries of combat and spiritual conditioning, managed to endure the impossible chill. But Kurotsuchi Mayuri, whose physical form had always been his weakest attribute, found himself unable to suppress an involuntary sneeze as his body struggled against the life-threatening cold.
"Ten chi..." Fiander's lips barely moved as he spoke the next words, but they carried across the frozen battlefield with the finality of a death sentence.
His finger, still pointed skyward, began to glow with brilliant azure light that seemed to draw all warmth from the surrounding air. "Ware tada hitori nomi!"
The phrase hung in the suddenly still air like a funeral bell. All around them, the very concept of motion seemed to cease. The falling snow stopped mid-descent, individual flakes hanging suspended in space as if time itself had been frozen. The wind died completely, leaving behind a silence so absolute that it felt oppressive against their eardrums.
In this realm of perfect stillness, Fiander began to move. He walked calmly toward the paralyzed captains, his footsteps making no sound on the crystallized ground. His first stop was beside Unohana Retsu, where he reached out with gentle fingers to trace the curve of her cheek. His touch was soft, almost tender, completely at odds with the devastating power he had just displayed.
Next, he approached Kurotsuchi Mayuri and carefully removed the distinctive black and white mask that covered the scientist's features. Beneath the concealment lay a face that, while pale and marked by years of chemical experimentation, retained an almost aristocratic handsomeness.
"Much better," Fiander observed with satisfaction, tossing the discarded mask aside like refuse. "Why do you insist on hiding such pleasant features behind that unsanitary covering? Really, it's quite an unbecoming habit."
His attention returned to Unohana, and with clinical precision, he pushed aside the fabric covering her chest to reveal a scar that ran deep enough to scrape bone. The old wound was a testament to battles fought long ago, when the current peaceful captain had been something entirely different.
"How fascinating," he murmured, studying the ancient injury with the appreciation of a connoisseur examining fine art. "So the legends are true—the First Generation Kenpachi bears the mark of her defeat at young Zaraki's hands. Such delicious irony."
Having satisfied his curiosity regarding the paralyzed captains, Fiander turned his attention to the protective barriers that housed their subordinates. He walked casually toward the double-layered crystal defenses, raising one hand in an almost negligent gesture.
The sound of shattering glass filled the air as his bare palm made contact with the barriers. The combined defensive techniques—representing the pinnacle of binding arts that should have been capable of withstanding attacks from the strongest Vasto Lorde—crumbled like spun sugar before his casual touch.
Just as he was about to step through the ruined defenses to reach the helpless vice-captains within, a voice stopped him cold.
"Please... wait..."
The words were barely above a whisper, yet they carried across the frozen battlefield with startling clarity. Fiander's expression shifted to one of genuine surprise as he slowly turned back toward the source of the interruption.
Unohana Retsu, her hair disheveled and falling across her face in wild strands, had somehow managed to open her eyes despite the temporal stasis that held her body motionless. But these were not the gentle, caring eyes that her subordinates knew. Instead, they blazed with blood-red intensity, filled with a killing intent so pure and concentrated that it seemed to take physical form in the air around her.
For the first time since the battle began, Fiander's serene composure showed the faintest crack of uncertainty.