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My breathing became agony. That damn agony separated my body from my brain, making it impossible for me to move. The rain pushed me harder to the ground falling to my bare bloody opened flesh in my stomach when I realized it was over.
I couldn't do anything. Just watch how that man with his hair raised up in a spike gave his last glance at me, spitting to the ground before turning around. It was odd, seeing you insulting yourself like that. Like the taste of your own damn medicine. Worst of all, he stole my rightful place. It should have been me the one how looked down to a soon-be-dead-body on the ground. Me the one who scoffed disappointed in that guy's low potential. I, Kenpachi Zaraki, of all the Captains the strongest, how could I let this happen?
Nevertheless, he was stronger.
I never though that I would die to the likes of myself.
The intensity of me wanting to move my fingers and grab my Zanpak-to increase like the rain that kept me attached to the ground. My
Beautiful and SolitaryBeautiful and Solitary
Chapter One: The truth
The Council of the Captains was aligned just for me that morning. I had to present my report in front of them all, all covered up in wounds because there was no time for treatment. The Old Man was desperate to hear what I was about to say about the mission. So I knelt in front of him with my Haori touching the wooden floor with some of my blood. The thing was I heard an anonymous hiss beside me, as if the absent agony that should been in me had moved on to another person. I didn't have to look to know that it was the Captain of that Healing Squad, she always stood there. Besides she always smelled like Herbs and Incense, and so it has been since the first time I saw her since I first joined the Squads.
She was all so different. I've heard that she's the strongest of all the Captains right after the Old Man, so she had this privilege to questionize the Old Man's orders every now and then. She always talked about the innocent and our priority
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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