He had no sentience before that night.
Just a bundle of aggression, pain and anger that manifested from a small boy's hate for the world.
A hate born out of having no one to depend on in a city that was rife with crime and suffering. Especially for the ones on the lower end of the spectrum. The less fortunate.
Whether through the machinations of a higher being or a simple fluke, that hate would eventually grow into something dangerous. A tool that could be aimed at the enemy.
What would happen then, if that tool were to gain understanding and reason...
"No...a hado straight through the Saketsu wouldn't simply take away your soul reaper powers, it would also outright kill you."
Gordon's mouth moved. The voice sounded nonchalant with a hidden viciousness to it.
The spirit traced a finger to the left side of my chest, in between my shoulder and my sternum, digging his claw on my skin and drawing more blood.
"I don't want to kill you."
He told me.
I almost laughed. The braids of Reiryoku going through my chest begged to differ. I could feel them...hum infact, bringing out many questions. Like how was I not dead? Could the soul be that different from the Physical body? Actually yeah, Soul reapers in Bleach could sustain almost unreasonable levels of damage and be as right as rain the next day.
"...I want kill you and be done with it but it's not that simple! A part of me what's you to live. To thrive! And I hate that part!"
He spat out in disgust, part of the lips I could see curling down.
"Why now? After all the pain of those years...you can't just rewind all that. I am battling myself now and it's annoying." The voice went slightly unhinged and desperate.
"Death would take me with you if I took away your life. But I want to...live. To savor their pain, like they did mine... ours."
The anger and dislike I carried for him faded slightly. His words... reminded me of the past. A past I had grown to accept but one that had left behind many old scars.
The other thing I noted was the way he worded the first part. It was strange. He spoke as if Death was a real person.
"Things are skewed now. So different from before."
He pushed away from me, platforms of purple Reishi forming under his feet. His back to me, he fully faced the encompassing misty terrain of the cemetery.
"Even this place has changed."
He stated in a nostalgic heavy tone.
"It's only supposed to be me, yet I am not alone. This desolate ground. Ripe with the pain of all who dared take from us. This was supposed to be all you see, a never ending graveyard. Ones marked with the graves of everyone we killed and shall kill. That HollowLand, its not meant to be here. It's so...empty. So hunger inducing."
A throaty laughter escaped Gordon's mouth.
"Whatever made me possible...it also changed us. And now it feels as if you're not you, but how can you not be you, when I am me?"
He was making no sense.
I wasn't afraid to tell him either. His back stiffened upon my words, a clawed hand opening and closing in an irritated motion.
"Aren't we all?"
He questioned through Gordon.
The former's body jerked, his limbs getting surrounded by strings from the grid, lifting him up to the sky next to me. I groaned, trying my best to ignore the raw sensation of pain my body was feeling.
It wasn't the first time shit the fan. My rocky start in the DC universe only seemed to get even rockier and I was close to losing my shit. 'Power...' I thought with a thirst born out of being so helpless. I kept on flexing my limbs and any other parts of my body I could, to try and escape the bindings.
The pain stopped me from wiggling too much. The other thing I tried to do was connect to the Sheath. Use it for anything. No matter how much I tried to call it to me though, it failed to leave his grip.
Everything seemed kind of hopeless, really.
The gray sky reflected the bleakness of my situation. I had come from a fight straight to another one. This shit...I wasn't ready for any of it. I was barely level 2, everyone else was either much more skilled or much more powerful or both.
'Its not over yet.'
My gaze returned to study him. There had to be a way to beat this lunatic. And if he really was my Zanpakuto, then not only was beating him possible but I could make him submit. I was going to need the power of a Zanpakuto if I was to face beings like Doomsday, Superman and Darkseid.
I had made a promise to Nick's memory. There was no way I was going to squander this second chance.
It didn't matter that all of it reminded me of prison, one of the worst experiences of my life. I would beat it, just the same.
When shit hit the fan in the slammer, you had to punch back as hard as you got. Then when the guards came in to break up the fight, the ass whooping and a trip to Solitary confinement was at least worth it.
Through all that, I had built up a sort of mental practice where I could disassociate myself from the pain of bruised knuckles, tender joints from the cramped space of solitary confinement and the reality of my fucked up situation. Prison messes you up man.
This body wasn't as hardened but my will had never been stronger.
"Gordon...can you hear me?" I looked at the police commissioner next to me in the air. He made no reaction.
"Fight it! He can't do worse to you than what any of the freaks in Gotham have tried. He can't do worse than the joker!"
Gordon begun laughing.
"Oh trust me, I can."
The Spirit's voice said menacingly.
My heart sank.
The Zanpakuto spirit turned around.
"Did you forget what I am?"
Like a ghost, he drifted to my back.
"I am your darkness. If you were a god, I would be your divine punishment. I understand how you think. You can't hide anything."
He grabbed the sides of my head.
"I know how your mind operates..."
That's a lie. That can't be true.
A cold sensation gripped my soul. He couldn't possibly...
"You can't read my mind."
I replied confidently.
While the relationship between a Zanpakuto and it's master was very personal, to the point of each bringing out the best out of each other when working in tandem, it didn't reach a level where one could read the memory of the other.
None of the Soul Reapers I knew about had that sort of power. They could speak telepathically but accessing memories without consent was basically impossible.
He let me go.
One minute suspended in a world of pain, the next huh...
...still suspended in a world of pain.
He had released me, loosening the hold the grid had on my body, only to slam me face first onto the ground. The only thing I could do was clench my jaw and let the taste of blood on my mouth grow as I accidentally bit my tongue and lost a tooth.
His knee dug onto the small of my back.
"I don't need to read your memories to know you, Davian Mabuz. 19 years old, orphan, selfish, abandoned, hurt. You had to scramble for everything we got. The orphanage, they wouldn't understand how cruel children, especially those who have grown up knowing no happiness, can be."
I struggled as he ranted. 19 yrs old? Yeah I was an orphan and selfish and all those other things, however last I checked, I was 25. He was wrong...how could he be so wrong about something so obvious?
Then my mind started going through everything he had said earlier.
For starters, he seemed to have a split personality. As much as I was tempted to ask all my burning questions, I knew that it would have been much better if he revealed it by himself. Villains and monologues, am I right?
A voice at the back of my head was curious to understand it all. One answer I landed on that was a big part of the mystery of what he actually was, was...maybe this wasn't my Zanpakuto spirit.
Then to match the answer another question made itself apparent, how could he not know that the real Davian was dead?
The sheath! I can feel it!
My hand snaked out to grab it but was instead was batted aside. But I was ready.
A green bubble shield exploded from the sheath, pushing him off me and to the side. I rolled away, kicking out at the shadow I spotted from the corner of my eyes.
My ankle was grabbed in a tight and rough grip, then the sky and ground switched positions as I was slammed onto my back, digging a small crater on the gray soil. Not only breath, spit and blood also exploded out of my mouth. The wound on my chest that had slowly been closing up opened again. Fresh blood added to the scarlet color on my t-shirt.
Purple eyes appeared in my vision. I grunted, throwing a punch only to have it blocked and my nose flattened on my face. My vision swam as my head flopped back onto the ground. Everything was tinted red.
"Are you done?"
Gordon floated to my side, the voice coming off him still so alien.
I spat before hitting the Spirit's elbow to pull him close and smash my forehead onto his face.
Blackish thick blood spouted off his hood as he backed away, grabbing his nose in pain.
With teeth died red, I started laughing. The Spirit turned to me angrily.
Breath left me as a foot landed on my belly. The pain was blinding. Then he grabbed the material of my t-shirt, shaking me a little.
"But even!..." I jerked in his hold, throwing another punch at his throat that was stopped by his palm. Then he squeezed.
The pain from crushed fingers almost made me vomit to the side. I felt my face get grabbed roughly.
"Will you stop fighting and just listen!?"
I stopped, breathing heavily. With my nose as fucked up as it was, it sounded more like wheezing.
I was in a bad state but it wasn't anything new. My head rolled to the side and I saw Gordon, standing in place like a zombie, his will dominated. I needed to save us. There wasn't an if...I was our only chance.
Me trying to save a cop, how ironic.