Walter Wagner's POV. Human World. Temporary Quincy Freedom Fighters base.

Sighing to myself, I put down the last ration redistribution application I had to approve for the day. Feeling the familiar stiffness in my body, I took a moment to work my hands through my shoulder muscles, relieving some of the fatigue from my shoulders.

Now that my focus wasn't totally consumed by paperwork, I idly constructed thin strings of reishi connecting to the window handles from my right index. Flexing my finger a bit, the large stained windows opened with a slight creak.

'I'm going to have to get Hendrick to inspect those hinges.' As I slumped down in thought, I could feel all the tension in my body loosen while the peaceful sounds of nature filled the room, carried on a warm spring breeze.

The serene moment was broken by the sound of clay breaking. Likely a trainee successfully hitting a target on the archery range.

My office was located on the final floor of the castle. As such, it wasn't surprising that the open windows to my left provided me with a good view of the main training fields below.

After rummaging a bit in my chest pocket, I flipped open a classic mahogany and gold-accented pocket watch. My father passed it on to me on his deathbed, with the promise that I keep my focus on the present, and never let our family's curse consume me as it did him and his father before him.

Gently running a finger over the slightly cracked glass face, a morbid sense of impending doom crept up in the back of my mind. Images of a raging inferno and burning bodies flashed past my mind. These visions come to me at times, as they do to all the men in the Wagner family when they come of age. Sometimes they are useless, lies constructed to deceive the rational mind. But sometimes, they are despairingly true.

Ignoring the vision, I pushed my seat back and got up. The tingling in my legs testifies to the fact that I've been working for far too long.

My steps echoed throughout the stone-walled room as I walked up to the windows. Standing just before the window sill, I watched the new recruits being put through their paces. Stern veteran Quincy worked hard to complete their mission - hardening young boys and girls into useful soldiers for the great cause.

The late afternoon sun gently illuminated the fields below. The angle of the light allowed the rows of trees flanking the grounds to stretch out long shadows. This part of Prussia was well into spring, allowing the somewhat dull compound to have dashings of green all around.

Throughout the compound, if one focused, it's not hard to hear the enthusiastic youthful shouts and sounds of destroyed clay targets ringing out. Reminding me that there was more training occurring out of sight. All in all, the situation was painting a picture of an active military compound.

A proud work.

I decided to get a closer look. 'If I had to fill out one more god-forsaken form...'

Stepping out of the office, I was familiar enough with the labyrinthian castle to know which direction to take. Once they saw me leaving the office, one of the standing guards outside the door called out to me almost immediately.

He performed a quick and practised military salute before he continued. "Herr Wagner, Lieutenant Vogt requested a meeting a few minutes ago. As per your orders, we turned him away as we would anyone. We believe he did not take too kindly to that..."

I silently stared the man down.

To his credit, he wasn't weak-kneed enough to hide completely from my gaze. However, it is presumptuous of him to comment on his superior's state of mind unasked.

Making a mental note to look into it later, I decided to nip this conversation in the bud before he blundered his way into saying something truly worth punishment. "Soldat, your report has been noted. Next time, however, choose your words more carefully."

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" Shaking my head, I left the fidgeting guards to their duties.

Instead, I put my focus on the crux of the comment. A slight frown marred my face.

It was no wonder. Hendrick Vogt was a snake. A cruel and unprincipled thug. A man I would ideally purge from my ranks immediately, but he is far too useful for that.

The Quincy alliance is already fragile enough. I can't risk losing support from the various faction leaders by removing Vogt on unreasonable grounds. Scheming against him is useless as well. Everyone can see the war on the horizon, and most of the leaders are more than happy to unleash a rabid dog like Vogt onto the Shinigami.

War is the proving ground of ideology and the playground of the strong. Unfortunately, Vogt is part of the strong.

After his Majesty and the legendary Sternritter were felled by the foul Shinigami, there have been very few powerful Quincy born in the past eight centuries. Vogt, for all his many faults, is one of the few Quincy alive who can slay those mindless beasts, the Gillians, with one arrow. Making his strength a valuable asset. One I tend to use to its fullest before discarding.

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Regaining my composure, I decided to deal with Vogt after I finish my inspections. He's waited for a few minutes; what's thirty more?

The thought gained a light chuckle from me as I walked down the meandering corridors.

...

"Steady. Release!"

"Speed up your reishi platform construction-"

"Blut isn't just about injecting reishi into your blood, you imbeciles-"

Various instructions rang out as I walked down the side of the training fields. I didn't want to disturb the training efforts of the veterans for too long with my impromptu inspection, so I nodded to the trainers as I passed each one.

Further noting that their morale has significantly risen. It seemed like allowing the jaded warriors to interact with innocent youngsters reminded them why we fight.

'Note to self, confirm assumption at the next mission briefing.'

Leaving the main training field, I turned a corner leading to the castle courtyard. Abrupting coming to a stop, I found a group of tired trainees walking towards me. Or, more specifically, leaving the courtyard.

Seeing me caused them to panic. I must admit that seeing them stumble over each other to salute me as best as they could, brought a slight smile to my face. Before they could continue embarrassing themselves, I dismissed them.

"At ease, soldiers."

Chuckling at the mumbled sorry and awkward smiles of the group as they passed, I turned my attention to the elite soldiers congregating at the centre of the courtyard. It seemed that they were discussing the training results of the day and sharing their experiences.

Looking at my brothers- and sisters-in-arms giving their all to the cause, I couldn't help but feel proud. It took many months of tense and emotional negotiations with different parties to allow the dispersed Quincy groups to combine into one formidable force. A force fierce enough to hopefully strike at the heart of our oppressors.

But the signs that we are reaching our limits are there.

We are a young organization which means that the number of personnel is lagging behind our needs, and our training regimes are not completely refined yet.

Surprisingly enough, we have a good regiment of elites among our ranks, but we severely lack low-level soldiers. If we had more time, we could erase this issue by enticing the younger generation of pacifist Quincy families to our cause. But for now, we can only do what we can.

As with all wars, many soldiers need to be the cannon fodder.

Giving their lives to advance the great cause and using their bodies to shield their more valuable comrades from the enemy's blade.

Despite our best attempts, we have come to learn that placing Quincy spies within the Seireitei is practically impossible. Worse still is that no ambitious Shinigami traitors have reached out, trying to use us as a blade against our common enemy.

This leaves us in a particularly precarious position. We cannot continue to tolerate our oppression. However, the lack of information on the Shinigami makes going to war with them an uncertain endeavour.

Meaning there is a good chance that currently we might not have the numbers advantage against the Shinigami. Such that our elites could possibly fall long before we can truly inflict damage on Soul Society. Assuming the Shinigami use their low-level officers as expendable units.

A scenario we can only hope does not play out.

With those frustrations in mind, I completed the impromptu inspections. Aside from the dismal number of recruits, everything was mostly on track. The only real good news is that the limited training we conduct in the Human World is easy enough to conceal.

Having a few veteran Quincy actively dispersing and normalizing the atmospheric reishi has proved to be an effective method to fool the Shinigami sensors. But the reiatsu fluctuations that large-scale combat produce aren't so easily hidden.

It matters not. We are well aware that we can't stay concealed for long.

By now, the Shinigami should have caught on to our recent movements. A few hundred Quincy from all over the world can't just disappear without the Shinigami noticing something strange.

...

Deciding it was time to finally deal with Vogt, I made my way to his personal training grounds.

The dull and worn-out grey walls on this side of the castle truly showed the building's antiquity. This castle has stood tall since the days of the Quincy golden age. A time when Quincy could live with their heads held high. A time when Hollows trembled in our presence and grovelled like the dogs they are.

According to the Wagner ancestral records, His Majesty himself graced the castle with his presence on multiple occasions. Sharing with my ancestors, His vision of the world.

A world without death. A world with the Quincy seated at the throne of existence, as is our birthright. How glorious it would have been if His Majesty succeeded...

The silent walls seemed to sneer at my wilful fantasy. The visions of a world on fire decided to make themselves known again as if to mock my faith.

As has become routine these days, my thoughts redirected towards the coming war.

For all the Shinigami's pompous self-aggrandising about their roles as the guarantors of peace and stability, their actions betray them. Like the true tyrants they are, they have consistently tried to cage us and survey us like we're cattle. Meant to live and carter to their will!

For so long have the Shinigami used force to placate us. Allowing no visionaries to live long enough to inspire change and killing off 'radicals' as a disguised form of culling. But no more...

Contrary to what those cowardly pacifist families think, the Shinigami are not invincible. They are not gods. They are not our god... And, as such, will fall when struck down by our arrows. The records are not completely clear, but we know that many Captains fell to His Majesty and His Sternritter. With the right tactics and enough faith, I believe we could do so as well.

But we are not delusional.

The Shinigami have a powerful fighting force. Countering the Captains of the Gotei 13 is going to require extensive planning. Bearing the brunt of the Captain's onslaught was, expectedly, a major sticking point during negotiations.

But I know my comrades are not cowards. If no other option remains, we will strive to trap those Captains and have some brave fighters activate the Letzt Stil - a forbidden technique that many proud Quincy would rather die before utilizing. Preferably, Vogt will be a part of such a group. Maybe his arrogance will not allow him to suffer defeat, thus forcing him to perish with the enemy.

However, before we attempt to attack the Soul Society, we need to train and test our military tactics. Luckily for us, those loathsome beasts have a whole world we can use to our advantage.

Our vanguard troops should be reporting back any day now about the feasibility of establishing a base in Hueco Mundo. Even if vile Hollow reiatsu is toxic to us, that added level of danger in combat should allow our soldiers to progress their martial prowess all the more quickly.

Seeing the light-filled end of the passage, I flared my reiatsu slightly. Low enough that I remain concealed from remote scans but high enough that Vogt can pick it up.

Sighing, I decide to just get this over and done with...