Mikoto had been trapped inside this "illusion" of the subconscious, where he remained on the roof that is currently aflame. Why didn't he move? Why didn't he fled the rooftop from this blazing heat that could do great harm? It was the ignorance of his own eyes being trick to believe darkness clouded his vision, thinking it was the power of the self-proclaim St. Nick. However, blinded such trickery, both eyes were unaware of the flames and abuse he could have suffered right then.
"Master Kimura? What are you doing? You need to get off the roof. Do you not see that fire? Master Kimura? Can you hear me?"
A voice from the helmet was calling out to the masked vigilante; this voice was none other than Asterion; he would continue on and on.
"Fire? Asterion, I don't see anything. It's dark."
Mikoto replied.
Asterion couldn't understand what Mikoto mean, but like his master, he too was oblivious and ignorant to see. However, Asterion did not see what Mikoto see, but outside of the black void that ensues his master, his first-son. There wasn't time to sit back and try to figure out what he was dealing with, but then before Asterion could even say anything while his eyes were staring at the screen, listening to the sound of something screaming from a distance.
"“AAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH”
Asterion couldn't do anything but listen to that loud shriek in the background. Something was going on, but it most likely be the rest of the party dealing with that creature, whatever was going on, maybe something good was happening. But then again, something terrible could be happening instead. Then suddenly, there was this huge explosion that managed to reach the audio of the helmet. It seems like every second, something is becoming on fire or blowing up. Soon Mikoto staggered slightly but regained his vision slowly as the conflagration that Asterion was trying to warn him about reached him within a few feet. Coughing and gagging as the smoke of the charred roof was entering his lungs. The weight of the roof was beginning to collapse, Mikoto depart immediately from the rooftop, using what will and strength he had to concentrate on generating bringer into the soles of his feet and leap into the air.
The take-off was a bit lousy, but he remains in a coughing state, trying to get a grip on oxygen that he could. He barely landed on two feet among the tundra of snow before him. The battle against Santa Claus was now in view, trying to inhale as much as possible, still coughing. However, Santa, recited some words, and just like that, everything begins to shift around them. As if he was revealing some big finale that was to end all of their existence.
A massive size creature had appeared from out of nowhere, and just like old Nicholas, this monster that he summoned emitted a single life of energy. Still unable to comprehend what both creatures were or if they were a living being in the first place. The battle between the humans and this false children icon was nearing its end, and all the playing around is coming to a halt, Santa called in a red nose reindeer to aid in the extermination of the Naruki protectors. Mikoto watched while his cough slowly ceases, but even within his ears of the cowl, he could hear Asterion surprised reaction.
"My.....god....."
The tone in his voice shows how he never did see something quite like that before, ever. Sure, they had their fair share of hollows, but this wasn't a mere hollow, and its visage alone was enough to question could any of them bring a stop to not only Santa but its servant that resembles Rudolph? Blizzards shrouded the area violently, the ground shook, and the area was becoming even more challenging to see. The only thing that was even capable of allowing them to see either targets were the bright red glow of the reindeer's nose. It was a beacon-like a lighthouse to shine the way, could this animal be the source that regulates the temperature to cold and the cause of this winter wonderland of snow? Before coming to such conclusion, the glow ceases to exist, and slowly the once flurry of snow and ice began to dissipate. Slowly fading away like a bad dream, Mikoto didn't know what to think or believe as he watched closely. Was this another trick? He remained on guard and kept his awareness up in case this was some sick twisted ploy to drop everyone guards.
But then Santa seems quite surprised, and he seemed to be lost himself at what is happening? Mikoto wondered if he overexerted himself, or was it from the previous attacks that done him in? Many questions could surface, but like Santa, this wasn't the end Mikoto thought would occur. He quickly shouted..........
“DAMN YOU RUKIA KUCHIKI! DAMN YOU SHINIGAMI! COME NEXT YEAR. I WILL MAKE A FEAST OF YOUR FLESH. AND YOU, HUMANS! DO YOU HEAR ME, FOOD?! I WILL-”
Mikoto heard his cry even though it fell short on the last few words he tried to utter before turning into a complete statue, and the sun slowly peeked over the horizon when this turn of event happened. A single beam of sunlight landed on the surface of the frozen Santa; a crack appeared and soon spread across the entire frame, which resulted in the statue crumble into pieces and melted away. Not a single trace of evidence that could be helpful to explain what this thing was. Even the creature that was summoned just for a brief moment had come, now dead and gone. Across the entire city had slowly come to life once again, Mikoto's eyes scanned the area, and as of now, the people that would be around is now confused, unaware that any event of the arrival of Santa Claus and the snow ever happened. But there were a few things Santa said before "dying." He mentioned a name and his return, but there was one other implication that seems Mikoto also has an association with.....
"Shinigami."
His mind whispered that word while his eyes would move towards the direction of the shinigami, both of them. But only one stood out the most, and he was the first to enter the scene before the other. Underneath this mechanical cowl, Mikoto eyes burn a hole through this shinigami with sea green color hair that could be mistaken for blue features. Young looking, slender, but that outfit was the same as the one who was here three months ago. The very same one that causes destruction and end up abandoning the area. And now, even Santa seems to be acquainted with these people called shinigami. Whatever the connection is, Mikoto would find out and the one responsible for his parent's death all those years ago. The last one able to escape, but he wouldn't allow it to happen a second time, even if he has to fight for answers. A soul is burning with a fiery passion for revenge, staring at the sea-green individual that is associated with the same being that stood by and done nothing years ago.
“HEY! You two! Infact everyone! Is anyone up for a little celebration? I don't know about you but I want to get a drink in with the heroes of the city before we head to our respective homes."
He shouted an invitation for everyone to celebrate, but Mikoto tuned him out, not entirely. He heard him well but was less interested in acting like friends or allies with strangers, especially when his eyes were locked on another objective. But who would want to celebrate from a false victory? Everyone that came to help was lucky, including himself was lucky. Neither party won, hell they hardly survive that battle with Santa Claus and calling themselves heroes? That is an overstated title, nothing heroic about the work they did today. Everything was sloppy, out of whack, brash, and too cautious to attack. Heroes wouldn't be the term Mikoto would use, for this band of people. Instead, they would be jokes in his eyes, and even he would put himself in that category. He allowed himself to succumb to something so bizarre that he placed himself into a mental state at the wrong time.
It would be a long time before he would try to befriend any of them until they get this image of their minds; they should be happy today. Lives were lost, and the monster responsible for this mess disappeared by some curse. The shinigami should have answers for that, and he shall get them right now and before he even tried to make the mistake of leaving. A green light discharged from the bottom of his feet again, making a b-line for the turquoise-haired male. The gap between them would be cut short in a second, his way of traveling in a fast-paced movement. He appeared a foot directly behind this shinigami, on the left side of Shizuka while throwing one arm back to grasp the collarbone. With enough grip that it would almost be like he could grip the bone itself. The pressure was mostly due to the rage he had bottled up and waited for this moment.
Simultaneously to snatching the male away from everyone else, he entered another swift movement with only a green form of light behind his position on the ground. Both individuals would appear on the roof where Mikoto would toss his body forward as he would generally do any of the criminals he dealt with before. Not that Shizuka would be classified as a criminal nor viewed as one. However, this was a personal matter, and until he gets what answers, Mikoto would treat him and any of his kind the same way with no remorse or empathy behind it. Assuming Shizuka even allowed the masked vigilante to grab him in the first place. If they did end up on the rooftop, Mikoto would be ready for a verbal reaction to his actions or even a physical reaction, and for that, he would be willing to reveal his real fullbring power if it means getting what he wants. If anyone was to intervene, Mikoto was already prepared to treat anyone else the same way, and this was his town, his city. He'd be damn if anyone gets in his way at this point and if they knew what was good for them. They stay out of his business and wouldn't hesitate to attack anyone that tries.
"I rather you not waste my time, so I am only going to ask once! I need to know what is your connection with that creature who was just here!? Who is Rukia Kuchiki!? And who was the shinigami that was here 23 years ago that allowed a man and woman to die in an alleyway!? Tell me!"
Mikoto not only shouted these questions, he demanded that this man tell him everything he asked. The fuel to his anger was slowly swelling up from within even more than before, waiting to hear those words, that name of the individual that wore his clothing twenty-three years ago.
