The rain fell in thick sheets, drenching the battlefield in a cold, merciless downpour. Amidst the ruins of the riverbed, two figures clashed—one draped in a hooded leather jacket, his hands replaced by lethal claws, the other a bespectacled woman clad in white, her ornamental saber gleaming despite the storm.
Two monsters of unparalleled power. Neither willing to back down.
For Bambietta Basterbine, this was déjà vu. The rain, the bloodlust, the fight to the death—it all reminded her of the battle against the 7th Division in the Seireitei, the day she stripped Captain Komamura of his Bankai and bathed in the thrill of conquest.
That should have been their victory.
Had Mercer not appeared.
Had he not single-handedly humiliated Yhwach.
Had he not single-handedly shattered the morale of the Wandenreich.
Her grip on her saber tightened as she brought it down with relentless force. "Annoying pest! Why won't you just be a good boy and die already!?"
Mercer barely reacted, effortlessly parrying each of her strikes with nothing more than calculated ease. She could see it—he was toying with her. Mocking her.
He retracted his right claw and sent a powerful punch straight into her chest, knocking her back and forcing her onto one knee.
"Son of a—" Bambi coughed, her breath hitching as blood splattered onto the wet ground. Her fury erupted. "THAT'S IT! YOU'RE DEAD!"
She launched herself back, raising her free hand as reishi coalesced around her fingertips. Blue orbs of energy took form—small, lethal bombs, each one a death sentence waiting to explode.
"The Explode."
With a flick of her wrist, she sent them hurtling toward Mercer.
But instead of dodging, he did something unexpected.
He touched them.
The resulting explosions roared through the battlefield, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Smoke and dust clouded her vision, but as it cleared, she saw him—standing amidst the destruction, his body grotesquely deformed, but very much alive.
"Ho… Usually, fools who think they can block my attacks blow up the moment they make contact." She narrowed her eyes. "To think you could withstand my explosions with that form…"
What the hell is that? Blut Vene? No… It's too distorted. Too unnatural.
Before she could process it, Mercer's body began to mend itself, muscle and sinew knitting together like grotesque threads of life.
Then, out of nowhere, he laughed.
Low at first, then louder, building into something unhinged.
"What the hell are you laughing at?" she demanded, the unease crawling up her spine. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, amusement dripping from his voice.
"To think I panicked and put on my armor… just to withstand something so pathetically weak."
…Huh?
Bambietta froze.
My attacks? Weak?
The words rang in her head, twisting into something venomous.
Weak?
She took pride in her power.
What is this bastard saying?
She had earned this strength when Yhwach bestowed the Schrift "E" upon her. What do you know about me?
She had honed it, perfected it—
Do you know how many centuries I've spent fighting for this?
She had slaughtered enemies, obliterated them—
Do you know how much I've sacrificed?
She had torn through legions—
Do you know what it means to fight for your King?
And now, this man—this abomination—dared to call it weak?
Her hands trembled.
"I thought you were as powerful as your master," Mercer sneered. "Turns out, you're just a sad little girl throwing a tantrum."
I'LL KILL YOU.
A monstrous surge of reishi erupted from her body, the sheer pressure shaking the battlefield.
Mercer spread his arms wide, grinning. "Good. Very good. NOW COME AT ME, FULLY PREPARED TO DIE."
Bambietta vanished, appearing before him in an instant, her saber slicing through the air. Mercer stepped back just in time—too slow. The ruined buildings behind him crumbled, the aftermath of her missed strike.
She smirked.
Hirenkyaku .
She twisted her body clockwise, feinting an opening.
Mercer lunged, his left arm morphing into a jagged, serrated blade.
Bambi disappeared.
Hirenkyaku —again.
She reappeared behind him, her sword driving deep into his back.
Mercer grunted. But there was no scream. No cry of pain.
She yanked the blade free and plunged it into his chest.
A direct hit.
This time, she twisted the blade. Slowly.
Payback… for Candi.
She watched him carefully. No reaction. No pain.
…Is he dead already?
A waste of time.
She reached for her saber to sever his head—
It didn't move.
A sickening squelch reached her ears. Tendril-like growths slithered along the blade, latching onto her weapon.
What… the hell?
Instinct screamed at her to retreat. She released the hilt and leapt backward, putting distance between them.
Then—he laughed.
Deep. Twisted. Unhinged.
Mercer stood, his body still impaled, and looked at her with something almost… delighted.
"Seems like you came close to making me feel real pain," he chuckled. "Because that felt like a bee sting."
Bee sting?
Her breath caught in her throat.
All of my effort… and it was nothing to him?
Something cold—colder than the rain—crept up her spine.
For the first time since the battle began, a question formed in her mind. A terrifying question.
"Who… what are you?"
Her voice trembled.
Mercer's grin widened.
Perhaps now, she understood.
Perhaps now, she realized why Yhwach lost to him.
Lil… Gigi… where are you?
In an abandoned building
Sternritters Liltotto Lamperd, Giselle Gewelle, and Buzzard "Bazz-B" Black hunkered down in a rundown apartment, their breaths shallow, their bodies tense. The walls around them were stained with fresh blood—Giselle's work, ensuring they had a supply of corpses to manipulate if needed.
Bazz-B sat motionless, his eyes empty, his body slouched against the cracked wall. The image of Alex Mercer shifting into Jugram Haschwalth—his closest friend, his rival, his supposed better half—played over and over in his mind like a cruel joke.
"Oi, cockscomb, snap out of it," Liltotto hissed, slapping him hard across the face. Again. And again. The sharp sound echoed through the dead room, but he didn't react.
"Jugram… He turned into Jugo… There's no point…" His voice was hollow, devoid of the usual fire.
Liltotto's hand clenched into a fist. "Damn it, it's no use." She turned sharply to Giselle. "Gigi, what's the situation?"
Giselle cocked her head, as if amused by the tension. "Ah… Bambi-chan's still fighting that weirdo. I doubt she's gonna win, though," she said playfully, but even she couldn't mask the unease laced in her voice.
Liltotto's expression darkened. "Candice and Meni are still out there too. We need to—" The moment she said it, a heavy spiritual pressure crashed into the building.
Meninas McAllon staggered through the entrance, her uniform torn, her body bloodied, and in her arms—
"Candi!"
Candice Catnipp was barely conscious, her once radiant green hair now scorched, her skin covered in severe burns. Her breathing was short and ragged.
Liltotto rushed forward. "Shit. Gigi, can you fix her?"
Giselle knelt down, pressing a hand against Candice's charred skin. "I can patch her up, but she's in really bad shape. It'll take time."
Liltotto clenched her jaw. "Do it. We can't afford to lose anyone else."
Then, she turned back to Bazz-B—still sitting, still silent. And something inside her snapped. "You fucking idiot!"
Before he could react, she grabbed him by the collar and drove her fist into his face, sending him sprawling. Blood dripped from his nose as he blinked up at her, dazed.
But Liltotto wasn't done. She grabbed him again, yanking him close until their faces were inches apart.
"You brought us into this. I trusted you. I thought you had it figured out. I thought—" Her voice cracked. "I thought you would fight."
Bazz-B opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"You lost your shit because he looked like Jugram?!" she screamed, shaking him. "Is that what Jugram would've wanted?! Look around, dumbass!" She forced him to look. "Candi is barely alive, Meni's bleeding out, Bambi is out there alone fighting that monster, and we're all fucking hiding like rats in a sewer!"
Bazz-B's vision blurred—not from pain, but from the weight of her words. Then he saw it.
Tears.
Liltotto, the girl who never flinched, never hesitated, never let emotions get in the way—she was crying.
"I don't want to lose anyone else," she whispered, her voice raw, broken. Something stirred inside him.
Jugram is dead.
Then, like a whisper, a voice called to him.
Buzzard Black.
Bazz-B froze. It was Jugram's voice, distant yet clear.
Help them, the way you see fit. I'll always be by your side, even when you're down. His breath hitched.
He let out a low chuckle—soft at first, then growing louder. It wasn't amusement. It was the laugh of a man who had finally woken up from a nightmare.
With a quiet sigh, he lifted his hand and ruffled Liltotto's hair.
"Can't believe I had to get a pep talk from the brat," he murmured.
Liltotto sniffed, pulling away, face burning red. "I mean… it's not like I care or anything. But someone had to bring you back."
Bazz-B pushed himself to his feet, glancing at the others—Meninas, bruised but standing strong. Giselle, still working on Candice. Candice, barely clinging on.
He turned to all of them, his voice firm, steady.
"I screwed up. I dragged you all into this without a plan, without thinking. I lost my head." He took a deep breath. "But no more. I don't know if we can win. I don't even know if we can survive. But I won't run." His eyes burned with resolve. "So I'll ask you one last time— will you fight with me?"
Silence.
Then—
"That guy has a bone to pick with us," Giselle said first, smirking.
"There's no harm in trying to kill that cocksucker," Liltotto muttered, arms crossed. Meninas gave a small smile. "That's why we're here, right?"
A weak, raspy voice cut through the room.
"We'll make sure to pummel that guy," Candice coughed, forcing a smirk despite the pain. "I owe him one."
Bazz-B clenched his fists. "Then let's do this."
The battle wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Bambietta Basterbine was barely holding on.
Her body ached, her breath came in ragged gasps, and her limbs felt heavier with every second that passed. She had spent the last stretch of this battle soaked to the bone, her stamina drained from constant dodging and firing off explosive projectiles that barely seemed to faze her enemy.
Mercer was relentless. Every time she thought she had a moment to recover, he was already there—stalking her like a predator savoring the hunt.
I need to figure out where he's coming from… I can't keep this up.
But the answer didn't come. Her mind was clouded with exhaustion, her instincts dulled by the sheer impossibility of the fight. There was no way she could beat this thing—not like this.
And then… something clicked.
Her hand instinctively clutched at the medallion hanging from her neck. It wasn't just any medallion.
It was something she stole.
Something powerful.
Something gigantic.
Perhaps I can use this.
The air shifted.
Before she could react, Mercer was suddenly behind her, his claws gleaming in the moonlight as they arced toward her back.
"I've got you where I want you," he sneered.
But Bambietta didn't flinch.
She gripped the medallion tight and twisted her body, thrusting it forward. "That's my line."
A pulse of energy surged through the air.
The second Mercer laid eyes on the medallion, he hesitated. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, followed by something rare—uncertainty.
The air around them thickened as a monumental amount of Reishi erupted from the medallion, swirling in violent torrents before condensing, drawing in everything around it like a black hole. The sheer pressure of it forced Mercer back, his muscles tensing in anticipation.
The energy coalesced, its chaotic form shifting, growing, taking shape. Then, with a deafening roar, it materialized.
A towering, armored warrior stood before them, its presence alone enough to shake the ruined battlefield. Its hulking frame radiated an overwhelming sense of dread, its immense katana gleaming under the dim light.
Kokujō Tengen Myō'ō.
Sajin Komamura's Bankai.
Mercer's lips curled into a grin, his sharp eyes glinting with intrigue.
"Now that's something else," he muttered.