Hollow Moon: A Lost Shadow

Chapter 46: A Tomb of Rain and Rubble

The Visoreds lay broken, their masks shattered, their bodies bleeding out onto the stained concrete. Silas surveyed the carnage. He felt a flicker of satisfaction, then quickly snuffed it out. They'd only been a test, a proof of concept.

His victory was inevitable.

Silas turned, his eyes as hard as the arrow he cocked back. "Was that the best you could do?"

Something snapped within Kensei. A roar tore from his throat, a mix of anguish and defiance. "I'll rip you apart!" he bellowed, forcing himself to charge in. A blast then exploded right in front of him, the concussion throwing him off course.

A flicker of movement caught Silas's eye. Kensei, somehow back on his feet, his weapon raised in a final, suicidal attempt, tried to charge in again. But the moment his feet left the ground, a single arrow, impossibly fast, pierced straight through his throat.

Mashiro, despite her wounds, tried to crawl towards her partner's side until an arrow ended her struggle. Shinji, seeing all this unfold, froze, eyes wide with horrified understanding.

Silas sighed, no longer finding any amusement in this battle.

He casually paced himself to where one of the last remaining Visoreds sat. Silence fell, save for Shinji's ragged breaths. The Visored stood alone, surrounded by his defeated friends, and the enormity of their loss was a crushing weight.

Despair, that most insidious of poisons, began to seep into his soul. His comrades were broken around him, and Silas... Silas was barely winded.

"You don't have enough strength to release your Bankai," Silas said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Shinji coughed, blood spattering on the floor. He fought for every breath, his body wracked with pain. It ached him on how right Silas was.

The entire time, they were being toyed with. This was beyond the horrors they went through in the Soul Society. Silas wasn't Aizen; he was far worse!

"Any last words?" he asked.

Shinji didn't reply at first until a defiant, broken smile touched his lips. He croaked out a whisper. "Rot in—" The blade from Zangetsu suddenly carved into his skull.

"Hmph... You actually thought I'd let you get the last word..."

The bodies of the fallen Visoreds lay motionless in the dim light. The once vibrant haven was now a tomb, a testament to one man's ruthless ambition and the shattering of bonds forged in pain and desperation.

• • •

There was so much for Silas to do.

Upon cleaning the area up, he secured all of the fallen Visored's Zanpakutōs. Love's, Roses's, Hiyori's, Mashiro's, Kensei's, and Shinji's were all confiscated. Since Hachigen was solely a kidō practitioner, he didn't have a Zanpakutō. The only Visored left, whose weapon was already taken, was Lisa.

Silas didn't need to sense her spiritual pressure to know that she was on her way back to the warehouse's location. What he needed to do was destroy her comrade's bodies before her return. And that's just what he did.

Each of them was burned or desegregated down with a kidō spell. Regarding Love's, Roses's, and Hachigen's bodies, the same was done to them prior to coming here.

Once Lisa finally arrived in the area, it began to thunder.

Rain lashed against her face, blurring the already-ravaged landscape. The warehouse, once a haven, was now a twisted monument of splintered wood and shattered glass. Panic clawed at her throat.

Where was everyone? Had a Hollow attacked?

A piece of debris tumbled to the ground, sending chills down her spine. There, perched atop the highest mound of rubble, sat Silas, the moonlight glinting off his orange hair.

"Ichigo!" Lisa roared, ignoring the treacherous footing as she scrambled towards him. "Where are the others? What happened?"

The air froze as he answered in a tone devoid of any warmth that echoed in the falling rain: "I slaughtered them all..."

Lisa stumbled back, the world tilting on its axis. Denial battled with a rising tide of grief. No. It couldn't be. They were family. She wouldn't let it be true.

Gritting her teeth, Lisa reached for her Zanpakutō. But her hand met only empty air. Panic turned to icy dread.

"Looking for this?" Silas said, dangling her Zanpakutō by its hilt. Haguro Tonbo wasn't anything special, but in Silas's hands, it was like he was holding onto her very Soul.

Tears welled in Lisa's eyes, blurring her vision. "Why?" Her voice cracked, a raw plea escaping her lips. "Why betray us?"

Silas found her expression pathetic. There were too many things bottled up inside him that he rarely shared.

So he answered, "You see, one day I had a dream." He was referring to his vision of Hachigen turning into a monster. "Do you think I came here by chance, that some force didn't have the power to send me here? That dream I had of your little friend turning into a devil was proof enough that you are all soulless creatures trying to drag me to hell."

His gaze hardened as he continued, "You were weak, a liability. Leaving you for last was a courtesy."

Lisa's heart shattered into a million pieces. It was no longer about her. It never was.

Despair morphing into a desperate spark of defiance, she turned to flee. Maybe, just maybe, she could outrun him and find some way to survive.

The air split with a whistle as an arrow tore through the darkness. It struck her square in the back, the force driving her to her knees. A choked gasp escaped her lips. The world spun, and the moon was like swirling vortex in her vision as she collapsed in a puddle of water.

Silas stood above her, his expression unreadable.

Her breath hitched, each gasp a struggle against the tide of pain. With a final, lingering look at the twisted reflection of the moon, her eyes fluttered closed.

Silence descended on the ruined warehouse, punctuated only by the relentless drumming of the rain. The last remaining Visored now lay still, leaving Silas to walk away as the only one in this world who bothered to remember they existed.