Jungle Boot Camp [training]

He awoke to the chill of cold steel pressed softly against his neck, allowing his eyes to gently pan across the edge of the blade along the dirty gloved fingers that held it and the steady arm and onto the face of a rather aged man, around 45 or so were the mod soul to estimate, his beard tinged with streaks of grey and his amber eyes, though experienced, were incredibly weary. In his free hand he held a half eaten apple which he he now raised to bite into.

So. . . ,he mumbled in between chews, they've finally sent someone to off me then.

The bount remained silent, ever weary of the blade at his neck, not that it meant any significant threat, his biology was unlike that of normal humans, the old man seemed to almost realize this as the blade immediately began to glow with a soft red energy and he lowered it to where the mod soul's pill resided.

All things die, Pinocchio. Even you and me, you just gotta know where to kill'm right.

You want me to beg for my life?

At those words the old man seemed to howl in laughter, the sound swallowed in the silence of the desert, before taking another bite of his apple.

Not at all, Pinocchio

At those words he rammed the blade into the Kum0's chest and the mod soul found himself sinking into a deep darkness. As his body leaned back the old man quickly reached out with his arm to catch him, as though cradling him, leaning over to take another bite from his apple.

You must beg yourself.

As he spoke the hilt of his blade extended outwards in length, a timer reading 48:59:59 appeared and began counting down. As it did so the man raised the wrist of his now free hand to his lips and spoke into it. Right before the darkness consumed him completely the mod soul could vaguely make out the words;

Subject #99 reporting, I've made contact with Subject #0, protocol Navajo has been engag-

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He moved beside her, as if to help shoulder her burden with her. The moment his shoulders touched the gourd he felt the weight of the entire ocean upon his back. . . no his entire body, his bones seemed to creak under the weight and though in his mind he recoiled in surprise, his body was unresponsive, as if locked in place. Reitar smiled, revealing an unappealing set of yellow teeth as she smiled.

Heavy yes? I told you that none can bear this burden except --

Kum0 gave her puzzled look as she gazed upon him once more, the glint of familiarity in her eyes once again.

You. . . I know you, at least I think I know you. What is your name?

I. . . am. . . .Kum. . Kumar

Kumar no. . Reitar yes

This time she moved leaving him to shoulder the full weight of the gourd, immediately his back hunched over like hers had been and he felt like he would slowly be crushed under the truly tremendous weight of the gourd, movement was no longer an option as it took ever fibre of his being to simply stand. As he struggled he saw Reitar's face lean in, as if to kiss him, mustering what energy he could spare he turned his head away.

Do I repulse you?

She smiled yet again, at her smile the burden seemed to grow even heavier till his very being groaned under the strain, he could no longer speak now, as it took everything to simply hold. As if in response his body began to grow thinner, his skin ebbing away to the bone as his eyes also began to lose color, his hair grew thinner becoming pencil lines that matted his head.

Why Reitar no kiss Reitar? Only Reitar can bear this burden. . . why reject Reitar?

Fear suddenly pierced Kum. . . Kuma. . . Reitar's heart and he could hear his bones beginning to snap slowly, one by one.

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As the darkness subsided Kum0 found himself in the center of Colisseum style arena, filled to the rafters with faceless individuals. At the uppermost level, where the Caesar would sit, sat a mirror clone of himself, garbed in royal roman wear and adorned with a golden laurel.

He's not your opponent

At hearing those words an incredible pain punctured Kum0's left side, penetrating to his very soul. He whirled on his attacker, taking a tentative step back to also examine his wound, to his surprise only the faintest of cuts could be seen on his left side, almost akin to a papercut. His eyes rose to gaze at his opponent, a gladiator, two short swords in either arm, which were adorned with gauntlets up to the elbow. Two greaves adorned either leg up to the knee if not the thigh. A corinthian style helmet adorned with horse plume masked the man's face but on his chest was clearly inscribed LUSOLIR RESIENCEE in black ink.

The crowd remained eerily quiet despite the first blow having been struck, gazing around the arena for a weapon Kum0 noticed his broadsword attached to the wall some ways behind his opponent.

Cursing softly he began to angle around in order to ease his way in its general direction, Lusolir seemed to pick up on this and moved to cut him off as though he himself sought to guard the weapon.

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Surging forward with killing intent, Kum0 sidestepped a lightning thrust from Lusolir before thrusting an clawed hand at his opponent's exposed chest, the movement caught his foe off guard and he was unable to block in time, but as Kum0's fingers made contact he felt the fingers jar out of position. It was like striking a moving train, the skin would not give even an iota.

The mod soul had little time to respond before another lightning cut would arc across his chest from Lusolir's free hand, the searing pain once again penetrating to Kum0's very soul such that he felt that that surely would've been been the telling blow, yet as he allowed himself a momentary glance at the cut, it was no deeper than the scratch of cat.

Retracting his damaged hand he attack with his other hand, this time a fist sent directly to Lusolir's neck, just below where the adam's apple rested, a sickening crack emanated from the impact and the mod soul recoiled in pain. Like the chest, the neck too was unyielded, like striking a great wall. Dodging another thrust from Lusolir's blade the mod soul reared back.

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He is not my enemy, the mod soul said pointing to the faceless Caesar who stood watching them.

But neither are you.

There was a hunch gnawing at the mod soul's mind now, he had an idea of what his next step could and should be but no certainty of whether it would work, his confirmation came once more through the increase in severity of his wounds as they seemingly responded to his doubt, growing deeper into his skin and causing blood to flow once more before immediately sealing up once again.

Lusolir remained expressionless, then again it was hard to tell behind his helm. Once more Kum0 charged his opponent, who lashed out a quick lightning thrust towards the mod soul's mid section, but this time he made no move to dodge, instead stepping into the strike.

The blade sunk deep into his flesh, but this time there was no pain, rather the wound seemed to manifest on Lusolir's body, a blood began to flow freely from the puncture.

As I figured my true enemy is myself. . .my doubts and fears.

It made sense, Lusolir's cuts only felt so deep because in those moments when he was cut he focused more on the pain of the blow which caused him to doubt his ability to withstand, yet unknowingly he would not let them deter him from finding a way through and as such when he looked at his wounds they only registered as the lightest of scratches. Only when he began to second guess did his wounds begin to . . .

There is no defense against them, Lusolir seemed to chime almost in unison. But for the one who's resolve is untainted by either. . . .


his is the surest of defenses. Truly impregnable

Lusolir removed his helm in salute and Kum0 once again found himself gazing into another likeness of himself. His certainty that he would no longer be able to best Kum0 upon this realization had been a doubt in himself, hence why

It seems like you didn't need your blade after all

No, I hinged my confidence. . . .my certainty on it rather than myself, an impulse I will no longer rely on

Do not doubt Kum0, lest we both be destroy--

Before Lusolir could finish Kum0 found himself once again falling into the darkness

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The previous encounters and their nature seemed to whirl in this mind until finally the conclusion struck him like a lance of fear down to his very soul.

Necrobein

Ah, a smidgeon of intelligence, but not quite whe-who-is-but is-not I died a long time ago. Slain by some foul shinigami treachery, what you see is but the remnant of my spirit that resides in the weapon you built from my teeth

In his studies Kum0 had read about how hollow tissue and organs retained traces of the hollow's reiatsu, once infected the victim themselves would slowly transform into. . .

You've come to take over my body then

The mouth peeled back once more as a low rumble of a laugh echoed out into the silence.

Perhaps, perhaps not. For now we shall simply discuss.

Your kind aren't much for idle chatter, the mod soul retorted.

Careful now whe-who-is-but-is-not, you may wield me but in this realm I am the more dominant of us, should I wish it I could trap you here forever with me. It's been long since I had a compani. . . .victim.

Fair point, what is it you wish to discuss then?

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Perhaps, Kum0 replied, you misunderstand the meaning of the word extension, the word, when applied to a weapon simply means it is another part of the user's self.

You assume then, Necrobein would retort with slight irritation, that the weapon becomes a part of its wielder.

Rather that they become one and the same, two halves of a whole. Without the weapon the wielder can be considered crippled. Without the wielder, the weapon is considered lifeless. Your teeth crushed zanpakuto and hollow alike Necrobein, were you toothless. . .

I would have been crushed!, the hollow roared in amused laughter.

And yet. . . your teeth are not separate from you are they? it is not Necrobein and his teeth but Necrobein's teeth. Nor is it Necrobein-who-belongs-to-his-teeth is it?

Indeed it isn't, my teeth are a part of me just as I am a part of my teeth. But you still have not answered my question he-who-is-but-is-not. Who is the weapon?

As he spoke the eerie smile remained, the rows of sharp teeth unmoving, the eyes maintaining their crimson, piercing glare against the black of the darkness.

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When he awoke, Kum0 was immediately faced with a majestic mountain stretching far into the sky beyond what he could perceive. As he attempted to get up, he immediately noticed he had no arms or legs, merely a head attached to a torso. He wouldn't have to look far to locate them for there, at the base of the mountain he was facing, they were each separate limb attempting to scale the colossal tower of rock.

We legs will make it to the top first!, cried the legs.

No we arms shall make it to the top first!, cried the arms.

Though Kum0 couldn't see any mouths or lips on either of the limbs, the sound was as clear as though they were shouting. Yet, for all their effort and shouting, neither limb could make any head way. Kum0 knew, with an unshakeable certainty, that both sets of limbs were his and his will to unite them was there, but also a terrible pride in being a head attached to a torso gnawed at him such that he looked on them with disdain.

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The arms were more reluctant. Especially when they saw the ease at which Kum0 was able to get up once the legs were attached.

Don't be deceived, he reassured approaching the mountain, I cannot hold anything without you.

To emphasize, he jumped up a couple of times, whilst he was able to scale a portion of the mountain this way, he grew incredibly unbalanced the higher he got and fell back down with a heavy thud.

That seemed to finally convince them and the arms approached, attaching themselves to the sockets in his shoulders. At their complete unification Kum0 felt a surge of power.

Can you feel it? he asked both of them as he leapt up the mountain like a child in a playground, together...

...we are stronger

At those words the peak of the mountain came within sight and the limbs seemed strengthened by this new resolves for Kum0 found himself flying across the jagged surfaces of the mountain with such ease it were as though he were the yeti that lived in the himalayas in those books he had read.

As he climbed onto the peak the limbs surged beside him triumphantly.

Thank yo--

The familiar embrace of darkness engulfed him once more.

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