Shortly after dawn, when hollow activity was set to be at its lowest ebb, the Western 22nd district lay bathed in gentle sunlight. A man could almost be forgiven for believing it tranquil and calm, were he not to realise it was far too quiet for all to be well. The region lay just beyond the territory already controlled by the shinigami. A simple hop over the walls and you would be there, though of course, the district itself was large enough to prove a worry and difficult to hold. In the eastern most third of the district, closest to the heart of the soul society, lay a built up, residential area with a few minor workshops. At the western most edge of this area lay the great factory that was the primary objective of this raid. The residential area was protected by a solid wall, though it was nothing compared to the monumental edifice that secured what remained of the shinigami controlled soul society. This wall curved back to meet the far greater wall, in a U shape and the factory itself was protected by another, similar wall arranged in much the same way, protruding slightly from the residential area. Beyond all of this, lay the farms. Huge, rolling stretches of open land that had been left untended for almost a century. They were in a state of some disrepair but the ground was still fertile. The farms however, lay beyond any protection and were in no way shielded from the rest of the outside world. 

Hollow activity was low, but not entirely absent. They had not formed into organised patrols or well prepared defensive positions, rather a few beasts roamed the region at random. Sometimes they were alone, other times in small packs. What they were looking for was unknown and likely not important, souls to consume perhaps, a fight maybe. What was clear was that they were not ready for an attack in force, or if they were then they were hiding it very well. 

Osamu and his men were ready for the assault, or as ready as they could be in the allotted time. Dissatisfaction rumbled through their ranks. News of the allegation of treason had spread quickly and they all felt that they had as much been accused as Osamu. The Captain had spent a lot of time fostering a shared sense of mission and identity amongst his men, a wound of this nature touched them all. Indeed, several men had already openly questioned the wisdom and justice of partaking in this offensive. Why should they fight and die for a Captain Commander who treated them like this? Why battle under her orders and for what she represented. Thankfully Osamu and a few of his senior officers had successfully diverted these mutinous mutters and reminded everyone that they weren’t going into this fight for the top brass but rather the common man and the survival of civilisation, that at least seemed to settle them down. Moral aside the 10th were in fine fighting form they were equipped, trained and organised. Everyman knew his business and he knew it well. 

Today they would be going into battle without the NDV, those brave boys were still unprepared and wanted for their proper equipment. So, the 10th had organised it self along those lines into what Osamu termed triganta. The triginta was a temporary measure, put in place by Osamu to help manage and run his division on the field. In time he planned to fold his men into the NDV, as one seamless force. But that particular vision was not ready yet. So, when the division fought as shinigami alone he broke them down into sixteen groups of thirty, plus a few smaller group as runners, signals, special tasks and command staff. Finding no immediate or obvious parallel for such a structure he named the units himself. The name was unoriginal, triginta being the Latin for thirty, but he didn’t need it to be fancy or inventive. He just needed it to work. His men, stood in their triganta, Osamu at their head with a few of his command staff around him. 

Osamu had been keeping a close eye on the development of the battle as a whole. Very few hell butterflies or runners would come to him directly, instead they would go to his staff, who in turn decided what the Captain should be informed of and what they should deal with themselves. Still, Osamu knew how the distraction was faring and he would shortly know how the men of the 2nd were performing, once they began their attack. Osamu was a little surprised at himself and his lack of concern for the second and specifically their captain. He would have thought that he would be more worried but not only had the switch in his mind flicked on that engaged his professional detachment but his faith in her abilities was sufficiently great that he didn’t need to worry about her. So, he and his men stood in waiting, ready for the allotted time to commence their advance.