Garian Shinjo and his allies moved with a level of haste at odds with his seven foot frame, gliding along the air like an ice skater instead of the giant he was. When he touched down on the grass, the light of the moon serving as the only illumination, he barely disturbed the grass beneath him. But a heavy set had dropped over his shoulders, as well as a cloud upon his mind and it all showed plainly on his face. “Are you scared?” Garian asked of Shintai, noticing the youngsters’ trembling. “This is bad,” Nasu commented, drawing his zanpakutō silently. “Kill him,” Came the elderly mans words.