[Week 32, Day 5, backdated to early morning] Dream
[An equation floats in blank space. It's filled with Greek letters and variables that would be unknown to even a seasoned scientist. To the left another equation appears that is somehow related to the first equation but most will never see how. There's the sound of chalk grinding against a board, scribbling and clacking. It's not in time with the appearance of the equations.
More equations appear, bursting on scene something between fireworks and the twinkling of stars. The chalk sounds furiously, scribbling, trying to keep up. Different equations grow brighter, much like an image of an electrical impulse traveling between neurons. Faintly, one can see lines connecting the equations as the impulse travels though they disappear just as quickly. Some connection are too fast, too fleeting to be caught by the naked eye.
Mayuri stands in the middle of these equations, waving his arms. He's conducting the equations and connections. In the left hand a utensil, maybe that chalk that keeps sounding. This hand seems to work independently of the right conductor, the motions much smaller and contained. It's possible that this hand is the one writing the equations, though none of the motions match with anything that might equal the characters nor with the squeak of the chalk.
Somehow or another, he is slowly revolving. More equations are added, some fade away, some are spider-webbed to others, pulled closer by the stronger connections. He is literally surrounded by them and from by his face one can see he is at his happiest.
All is science and nothing can stop him. No annoyances to distract him, no lack of supplies to slow him down. No outside responsibilities, just theorems and thought experiments.
The chalk breaks, shrieking against the incorporeal board. All the equations dull. Mayuri winces and looks about. He stares confusedly down at his left hand and the broken tool.
There is a rumbling, cracking sound. The world sounds as if it is falling apart. And it is.
The equations fall, one by one. Mayuri's face falls as soon as the first one moves. Those tenuous connections are snapped, evaporating into the air. A look of panic forms. As another falls he rushes towards it to catch it. The equation goes right through - meaning either it or him are transparent. As it slides through him that panic turns to abject horror. All his work! Leaving him!
The equations fall faster now. Mayuri is paralyzed in terror as his world crashes down. Somehow even the paint on his face pales, body in shock.
It's all gone now. The space is empty.
"Where did it all go?" This question echoes around him in the empty space. For what seems like forever there isn't an answer.
And then an answer comes, in the form of huge black brushstrokes slashing across the whiteness of the space. They are dark, black ink, blacker than night without stars; wherever Mayuri turns, he cannot escape these letters forming before him:
KUROTSUCHI MAYURI
The way these letters hurt to look at, the black sucking at the vision as if this is not ink, but a series of abyssal gorges slashed into the side of reality - this can only be the brushwork of a god, and an angry one at that.
YOU HAVE TRESPASSED WHERE IT IS NOT FOR YOU TO TREAD.
YOU HAVE ATTEMPTED TO CONTROL AND VIOLATE THE DREAMS OF KANNAGARA.
The next three words appear all at once, rather than stroke by stroke:
THIS
IS
FORBIDDEN.
Mayuri says nothing, almost too interested in the letters themselves than the message. The message comes through loud and clear, however.
The god continues:
THOSE YOU HAVE TRICKED OR SWAYED ARE HENCEFORTH PUNISHED BY MY BRAND. THEY WILL BE CAST OUT, THOUGH ONLY FOR A TIME.
BUT THEY ARE NOT THE ONES WHO SOUGHT TO REACH BEYOND THEIR KEN.
FOR THIS MOST GRIEVOUS OFFENSE, YOU WILL SPEND ONE WEEK SHORN OF YOUR POWER, EQUAL TO THOSE WHOM YOU FELT NO BETTER THAN CATTLE. YOU WILL LEARN HUMILITY, KUROTSUCHI MAYURI, OR THE NEXT TIME I SHALL NOT BE SO KIND.
The message is concluded with one final character, written not in black but in a brilliant silver, so bright it makes the white around it look dingy:
月
“ moon ” ]
[Mayuri awakes in a sweat. He rips his zanpakuto from the sheath and uses the incantations for both shikai and bankai. There's no response from the sword. With a shriek that is somehow less pleasant than nails on a chalkboard, he throws the blade across the room. He shouts, the yell filling the entire lab.]
NEMU! NEMU GET IN HERE IMMEDIATELY!
[He whips around, realizing that the damned device may be on.It is. He picks it up and hurls it as well across the room. As the Hitomi hits the wall the feed cuts.]
*dream serum dream and punishment
More equations appear, bursting on scene something between fireworks and the twinkling of stars. The chalk sounds furiously, scribbling, trying to keep up. Different equations grow brighter, much like an image of an electrical impulse traveling between neurons. Faintly, one can see lines connecting the equations as the impulse travels though they disappear just as quickly. Some connection are too fast, too fleeting to be caught by the naked eye.
Mayuri stands in the middle of these equations, waving his arms. He's conducting the equations and connections. In the left hand a utensil, maybe that chalk that keeps sounding. This hand seems to work independently of the right conductor, the motions much smaller and contained. It's possible that this hand is the one writing the equations, though none of the motions match with anything that might equal the characters nor with the squeak of the chalk.
Somehow or another, he is slowly revolving. More equations are added, some fade away, some are spider-webbed to others, pulled closer by the stronger connections. He is literally surrounded by them and from by his face one can see he is at his happiest.
All is science and nothing can stop him. No annoyances to distract him, no lack of supplies to slow him down. No outside responsibilities, just theorems and thought experiments.
The chalk breaks, shrieking against the incorporeal board. All the equations dull. Mayuri winces and looks about. He stares confusedly down at his left hand and the broken tool.
There is a rumbling, cracking sound. The world sounds as if it is falling apart. And it is.
The equations fall, one by one. Mayuri's face falls as soon as the first one moves. Those tenuous connections are snapped, evaporating into the air. A look of panic forms. As another falls he rushes towards it to catch it. The equation goes right through - meaning either it or him are transparent. As it slides through him that panic turns to abject horror. All his work! Leaving him!
The equations fall faster now. Mayuri is paralyzed in terror as his world crashes down. Somehow even the paint on his face pales, body in shock.
It's all gone now. The space is empty.
"Where did it all go?" This question echoes around him in the empty space. For what seems like forever there isn't an answer.
And then an answer comes, in the form of huge black brushstrokes slashing across the whiteness of the space. They are dark, black ink, blacker than night without stars; wherever Mayuri turns, he cannot escape these letters forming before him:
KUROTSUCHI MAYURI
The way these letters hurt to look at, the black sucking at the vision as if this is not ink, but a series of abyssal gorges slashed into the side of reality - this can only be the brushwork of a god, and an angry one at that.
YOU HAVE TRESPASSED WHERE IT IS NOT FOR YOU TO TREAD.
YOU HAVE ATTEMPTED TO CONTROL AND VIOLATE THE DREAMS OF KANNAGARA.
The next three words appear all at once, rather than stroke by stroke:
THIS
IS
FORBIDDEN.
Mayuri says nothing, almost too interested in the letters themselves than the message. The message comes through loud and clear, however.
The god continues:
THOSE YOU HAVE TRICKED OR SWAYED ARE HENCEFORTH PUNISHED BY MY BRAND. THEY WILL BE CAST OUT, THOUGH ONLY FOR A TIME.
BUT THEY ARE NOT THE ONES WHO SOUGHT TO REACH BEYOND THEIR KEN.
FOR THIS MOST GRIEVOUS OFFENSE, YOU WILL SPEND ONE WEEK SHORN OF YOUR POWER, EQUAL TO THOSE WHOM YOU FELT NO BETTER THAN CATTLE. YOU WILL LEARN HUMILITY, KUROTSUCHI MAYURI, OR THE NEXT TIME I SHALL NOT BE SO KIND.
The message is concluded with one final character, written not in black but in a brilliant silver, so bright it makes the white around it look dingy:
月
“ moon ” ]
[Mayuri awakes in a sweat. He rips his zanpakuto from the sheath and uses the incantations for both shikai and bankai. There's no response from the sword. With a shriek that is somehow less pleasant than nails on a chalkboard, he throws the blade across the room. He shouts, the yell filling the entire lab.]
NEMU! NEMU GET IN HERE IMMEDIATELY!
[He whips around, realizing that the damned device may be on.It is. He picks it up and hurls it as well across the room. As the Hitomi hits the wall the feed cuts.]
*dream serum dream and punishment