"The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow."
~George R.R. Martin

Chapter One

Chasing An Illusion

The wind was vicious. It rushed through the night air, disturbing everything in its path. Trees swayed and trembled dangerously, each limb and trunk creaking loudly from the strain, the faint whisper of leaves detectable in the darkness. The grass twisted and turned chaotically in response, adopting the appearance of ocean waves aimlessly coiling together.

Nanao inhaled a breath of air, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground, wondering whether she would be able to evade the stupidity of the assignment Kyoraku-taichou had unceremoniously scribbled across her agenda three weeks prior. She had never appreciated Shunsui's blatant abruptness, but he wasn't about to become reasonable in her absence; he would continue to brandish his flamboyant haori and tenacious personality when she returned, and that was almost about as unbearable as her current situation.

A crack of laughter resonated through the clearing. Nanao repressed the urge to scream. Kido illuminated the features of several recruits meters away from her, their eyes wide with mirth, shining with an iridescence that rivalled the moon. They had never experienced fear; they were ripe with youth and hadn't acknowledged the severity of becoming a shinigami yet.

Nanao had a large tolerance level. She had been able to deal with Kyoraku-taichou relentless behaviour for years, but her patience had begun to wear thin. She had grown tired of watching him bask in the revered glory of her anger and had toyed with his composure in response, prodding him the way a child might poke at a snake with a stick. She had sought solace from his persistence and he had seen right through her; she had been sent the world of the living as a sort of punishment, forced to adhere to his authority, and she now found herself in the company of at least twelve new recruits that were about as obedient as the breeze.

Despite her efforts, most of the recruits continued to behave irresponsibly. They failed to see the importance of remaining silent and had discarded combat regulations, acting out of impulse. One such example was her subordinates' immature use of kido. They enjoyed casting spells that interfered with the extermination of hollows. It was miraculous how no one had perished in the nonsense yet.

Nanao shook her head in thought. She would rather parade around Soul Society wearing Shunsui's pink haori than confront her recruits, but he would take far too much pleasure in that; she didn't want to imagine the way his face would soften or the way his mouth would quirk up one one side. She imagined the way she would crush the blue haze emanating from the clearing instead, and that somehow made everything better.

"I have had enough of this irrational behaviour!" she scolded, her voice harsh and venomous in the darkness, "demon magic shouldn't be used impractically!"

Remnants of kido lingered on one of her subordinate's fingers for an instant, traveling along the flesh of his palm; his hands fluttered shut and the kido disappeared in a flash of electric blue, mirroring the actions of rippling water.

"Prepare yourselves for danger! Draw your zanpakuto and look ahead!" Nanao stated with authority, looking deep into the darkness. The sound of metal rang throughout the air, spreading like wildfire in the forest clearing, and after several moments, she began to move forward.

"Alright, everyone! Let's stop-"

Nanao froze, her breath catching in her throat. A feeling of absolute dread seeped into her veins, forcing her vision to become extraordinarily blurry. A figure, one consumed by shadow and darkness, stood along the edge of the clearing. It danced across her vision like a flame, floating and darting around various tree trunks before disappearing in a flash of ebony. She didn't know what to think; the creature, whatever it was, warranted the need for evaluation.

"Fall back. All of you." Nanao murmured roughly, pointing in the direction of a nearby bush. While starring into the distance, she moved backwards, cautiously avoiding any debris that would inhibit her ability to travel. Reaching into her shihakusho, she removed the soul pager she had been given before her departure from Squad Eight. A small map of Karakura Town appeared on the screen, quickly indicating one important thing. There were no hollows in the forest.

A jolt of worry passed through Nanao's body, seeping into her fingers and toes. Soul pagers rarely malfunctioned and were extraordinarily reliable. The Twelfth Division had spent months researching and examining valuable technology from the human world, and in turn, harnessing it to procure the fundamentals of communication. The likelihood of a malfunction was very small, so little in fact, that the Gotei Thirteen had taken to distributing the device across Seireitei. She glanced at her subordinates before closing the phone, carefully observing their features. It would be impossible to disregard the pressure of fear weighing down upon her shoulders. It danced along her skin, eating away at her flesh like a sickness. He comrades had, without a doubt, seen the shadow as well.

"Recruits!" Nanao whispered, her voice floating through the wind. She scrambled to find a solution to the problem, as it would be impossible to train a group of recruits who were terrified of the human world. Pausing for several moments, she evaluated the situation. It would be best if she explored the terrain, allowing each of her students to understand her need for resourcefulness and peace. "I am going to scout the area. I need several volunteers to aid me in my search."

A timid brunette, smiling nervously, appeared from behind a dishevelled looking shrub. She held her zanpakuto tightly, the blade gleaming a shade of silver in the moonlight. Her flesh appeared to be unblemished; she had yet to receive battle scars. Her skin shone white within the brisk evening air, smooth as the surface of a frozen lake. Small, jagged imprints from her zanpakuto's hilt were the only imperfections Nanao could decipher on her hands. A small, half smile crept upon her lips. The brunette, a nameless recruit, was the only honourable individual in her group of petty subordinates. She could see it in her brown eyes; she harboured a high degree of respect for her superiors.

"Stay put and do not flee. If anything goes wrong, contact Squad Twelve immediately. Do not participate in anything foolish while I am gone. If so, Kyoraku-taichou will hear of your disobedient behaviour. Is that understood?" Nano whispered harshly, her glasses shining brightly in the darkness. Satisfied with their competency, she began to move away into the darkness, the brunette walking a few paces behind her.

"Ise-fukutaichou?"

Nanao didn't hear the girl addressing her. The dark woodland had captured her attention. In her mind, the darkness was moving. It slithered across the ground, embracing every leaf, stone, and branch. Everything was shrouded in a deep cloak of black. It was disturbing, and for some reason, that thought escalated the worry hiding deep within her chest. She adjusted her gaze, choosing to stare far into the distance. She almost urged the shadow to reveal itself. It would be interesting, simply intriguing, if she learned that her soul pager had indeed malfunctioned.

"Ise-fukutaichou?" the recruit said again rather quietly.

Despite her comrade's pleas, she continued to scan the area. The inky shadow, if it did exist, was hidden well. If the figure was a hollow, it was certainly using darkness to its advantage. There was no spiritual pressure in the area to detect, no evidence of hollow activity in the forest. There were no signs of footprints or reiatsu on the forest floor. The woodland was a crime scene devoid of any evidence.

"Ise-fukutaichou!"

"Yes?" Nanao stated, her feet freezing within the air. She turned her head towards her subordinate and was quickly caught by surprise. An expression of pure horror was plastered across her face. The recruit's brown eyes were wide and her lips were pressed into a hard line.

Nanao leaned forward and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. She suppressed another shiver of doubt, silently wondering what could have possibly caught the recruit's attention.

"There's a footprint."

Following the girl's outstretched hand, she starred at the ground. Beneath various tree limbs and decaying leaves, lay an imprint of a human foot. The heel of the print was deep and angular, situated between a maple leaf and a crooked twig. Nanao slowly crouched down and cautiously touched the muddy footprint with her index finger. The ground was wet from midnight dew. Small traces of spiritual energy remained in the print, reminiscent of a diseased soul. She concluded that the footprint was relatively fresh.

"This footprint belongs to a soul. They were running from something..." Nanao said quietly, running her forefinger absentmindedly across the damp ground. "You have a good eye. I didn't think we would find something like this."

After appraising the footprint, she peered at the brunette, staring deeply into her wide, brown eyes. The girl hadn't moved from her awkward stance. Her hand continued to waver towards the soil, shaking delicately in the evening air like a trembling tree branch.

"Ise-fukutaichou?" The recruit muttered, staring off into space.

Nanao frowned, prepared to answer the brunette's request. She opened her mouth slowly, inhaling a sharp breath of air. "Yes?"

"There is someone standing over—" the recruit was suddenly cut off. A high pitched scream resounded through the wooded area, abruptly sending goosebumps trickling down her skin.

Nanao instantly looked up towards the treetops, her grey eyes hastily scanning the dark horizon. The shriek had come from the eastern side of the woodland, very close to the position she now held. The individual who screamed must have created the impression in the mud.

"We need to move. Be prepared to fight."

Nanao turned to look at her comrade for confirmation, but reeled back in confusion. The brunette hadn't moved from her position at all. Her zanpakuto, once placed in a position that depicted preparation and practice, now dangled helplessly from her fingertips. The sword swayed softly in the wind, much like the pendulum of a clock.

"There is nothing to fear," Nanao said softly, slowing standing to her feet, "someone in this forest needs our assistance. You are more than prepared to deal with a conflict. After all, you are from the Eighth Division. We specialize in kido and swordplay."

The brunette, once a symbol of bravery and respect, remained as still as a stone. All that could be seen was fear in her dark brown eyes. "There is a girl, Ise-fukutaichou," she whispered in a broken tone, "a shadow is looming over her."

Nanao spun around violently, her hair hanging within the sky like a halo. Her grey eyes darted through the darkness hastily, attempting to discover the imagery the young brunette had described. It was difficult to focus, as her heart raced frantically within her ribcage. The situation, once harmless, now seemed overwhelming. It almost seemed impossible, that while training recruits, she had slipped herself into a situation that had the potential to become irreparable.

Suddenly, bursting throughout the darkness like a gallant knight, she saw the glint of metal. A girl, a mere blur in the forest, could now be seen. Her features were similar to a child's, as baby fat continued to linger around the edges of her face. What disturbed Nanao the most was the traces of blood that obscured her chest. She was strewn upon the ground lifelessly, a jagged katana protruding from her stomach.

Horror consumed Nanao's thoughts. She starred helplessly as the sword began to glow a blinding tint of white, destroying the soul and forcing her to leave the earth for good. It was terrible, so ghastly in fact, that a wave of anger began to surge through her veins. It took a great deal of cruelty to destroy a life, even if it was from a soul. Although that person failed to thrive within the world of the living, it didn't mean that their pain was any less real.

In fury, Nanao raised her hands within the darkness, quickly chanting a kido spell under her breath. She shouted loudly, allowing the words to creep along her tongue. When her flesh began to glow an electric shade of blue, one that illuminated the forest in a flash of cerulean light, she knew that it was time to attack. Before she could implement her Kido however, the diseased soul vanished, along with the weapon that had managed to harvest her life. A groan of defeat slipped through her lips. She turned to face her comrade, prepared to contact Squad Twelve. The situation had to be reported; it could no longer go unnoticed. It had become far too dangerous for a group of recruits. It would be best if Nanao passed information on the another group of capable shinigami. They would, without a doubt, be able to solve the problem at hand without delay.

"Don't move," she said calmly, referring to the recruit along her side, "this situation is becoming complicated. Let's return to the others and contact the Twelfth Division—" Nanao's voice died in her throat.

The brunette swayed back and forth like an unstable bridge. The silver katana, the one Nanao had once believed to have vanished in thin air, protruded from her chest crudely. Blood seeped from the wound in thick rivulets, flowing down the front of her shihakusho. Her brown eyes reflected nothing but emptiness. Her arm hung limply against the side of her body, frozen stiff from death. Nanao knew the worst had come.

"No!" she yelled, moving forward to catch the recruit's body. Before she could however, it vanished; dust was the only thing that remained of her honourable soul. It was difficult to believe that only moments before, Nanao had been in the company of that young woman, now nothing but a husk of lifeless air that seemed to float through the forest clearing mockingly, toying with her sense of pride. Now she was alone, completely shrouded in shadow. Her breath had been stolen and grief had taken its place.

A groan of agony cracked through the air. Nanao grabbed her head, her fingers flying through her dark hair, biting back a strangled sob. What she had seen and experienced: it couldn't be described to any normal bystander. She had just witnessed the death of a comrade. She had watched her eyes darken in death, shimmer in fear. Now she was nothing, not even a whisper of wind. Blood didn't even decorate the ground. The forest floor remained colourless, completely devoid of life. Nanao bit her lip, her mind racing with thoughts at the speed of light. She needed to get help. She needed to return to the other recruits. She had to warn them that something was amiss.

She took a step forward, prepared to use shunpo, but was immediately stilled. There was no time to react. A flash of black suddenly crept into her line of vision. It was nearly invisible in the darkness of the forest, but was detectable nonetheless. In a panic, Nanao spun blindly and pointed two fingers in the direction of the intruder. She willed the power of kido to invade her fingertips.

"Hado number thirty one, shakkaho!"

A blast of bright red fire exploded from the palm of Nanao's hand. It lit up the dark of the woodland; every tree, branch, and blade of grass was suddenly consumed by a brilliant eruption of crimson light. The forest appeared to be bathed in blood. The night sky, a wide expanse of blackness as far as she could possibly see, captured her attention. She blinked, attempting to carefully locate her enemy. The light emanating from her hands completely eradicated the shadowy darkness, gifting her with sight.

The shadow that had plagued her vision earlier was not an illusion. It had been real. She could see it clearly within her steel grey gaze. It had been a disguise, a form of darkness strewn across the sky like a cape. A man lingered beneath the blackness of a shadow, a shadow that enabled and consumed spiritual pressure. She had been stupid. She had been blind.

A large bout of wind screamed across the forest and man beneath the disguise was revealed.

Nanao lost her resolve.

A soundless scream flew through her lips. She could not breathe. She could not think. Her mind uttered endless proclamations of betrayal and anger. Her hands fell through the evening air, which caused her fingers to slip apart. In an unlinked state, they were unprepared for an incantation. Another streak of wind twirled across the clearing, forcing her hair to fall free from its bonds, or rather, the clip situated at the back of her skull. It flew around her face in an endless stream of ebony. The katana, falling violently through the sky, ripped across the palm of her hands. Nanao shrieked in pain.

She fell to the ground, cradling her wounded hands across her chest. Blood poured from her flesh in endless waves, streaming down her wrists and arms. The shadow man, a man she had once called comrade, landed several feet in front of her bloody form. She bit her lip fruitfully, attempting to hold back a sob of pain. Her hands had become tattered appendages of skin, no longer reminiscent of what they had once been.

The jagged katana hung limply in one of the man's hands. Blood dripped off of the blade, gradually slipping down to the forest floor. His hand tightened on the hilt of his zanpakuto as he neared Nanao, preparing to cleave her body into a bloody pulp of striated flesh. She was defenceless. She could no longer perform kido. Her wounded hands enabled her capabilities tremendously. In a state of panic, she whimpered and attempted to slide her hand up her sleeve. Her final resort was her zanpakuto. It rested along the inside of her left arm, waiting patiently to be used. Despite her efforts, she failed. The pain was too much. Her fingers, damp with blood and gore, refused to grasp the hilt of her weapon. In desperation, Nanao thrusted her arms out defensively. Her limbs shook with the effort to remain in one place.

In a matter of seconds, the traitor approached her frail form. He smiled in a familiar way, one that had once sent butterflies dancing throughout her stomach. A grimace consumed her features before she realized what was about to occur. A sharp scream bubbled through her mouth as his sword, a bight and otherworldly silver, suddenly drove deep into the flesh of her torso. Spots danced in front of her eyes. Pain raced throughout her body in waves, burning her skin and bubbling through her veins. She couldn't see or breathe; everything was too much. In a blind stupor, Nanao moaned and crumpled towards the ground helplessly. Whips of grass tenderly brushed against the torn remains of her shihakusho. The feeling of metal still lingered along her skin as blood, an unwelcome substance, poured from each and every one of her wounds.

"My dear Nanao-chan, what a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting to encounter you this evening," the man paused, pressing a calloused hand against her cheek, "how horribly unfortunate."

A/N: Hello, everyone! My sister and I decided to finally type up the first chapter of this story! As you readers can see, it is rather dark. But hey, at least there's a cliffhanger! Have fun figuring out who the bad guy is! Any guesses?

We would like to thank everyone for reading the prologue! We never thought it would get so many views! A special thanks goes to BleachLover2346, and any other readers who followed this story! You put smiles on our faces!

*Edited: 11/05/2015

~IronEclipse
-TeaAndWarmSocks