In the skies above the Seireitei stood a man who was the spitting image of Kenji Hiroshi, draped in the staple black of so-called Gods of Death. His gray-streaked black hair moved gently in the high breeze and the smile he wore was almost predatory. But was the man himself gentle or predatory? The glint is those red eyes was clearly a sign of madness. But this was Kenji! A kinder hearted soul you'd never find. Despite his massive power he wouldn't harm a fly unless he really had to. Yet the blood covering this mans uniform hinted at darker intentions. "Such a pity," he mused. "I will."