Pathetic vermin.

That's what they were.

They squirmed under the hold of power, ran at the sight of danger, and showed undeniable cowardice to any challenge. Yet they never truly died. They were such an aggravating existence.

Trash. Complete and utter trash. They were bemusing for a while, but then they would fade and grow disgustingly boring as they wrinkle with time. In the end that's all there was to it; humans were trash. They tell themselves lies to ignite false beliefs, or what they call 'hopes', and 'emotions', centralizing around the empowerment they believe exists in a simple muscle – the heart. So, I could rip out their hearts, and all the strength they believed they owned would disappear. Correct? I'm sure.

And so they struggle for survival, yet it's the fittest who win the fight. The fittest, in the end, would always be the soul-less, as some would call us. However, the name that is most familiar to us is monster. Or rather, espada. I, myself, am a high rank among them. Numero Cuatro. This means only that I will always be the survivor. No, the one to thrive. Under the command of my lord, no one will stand at the will of my blade.

So here I am now. Under war with all the Shinigami, but more specifically over a woman. In more detail, I should say Inoue Orihime, a human with the ability to reject fate by undoing events. She had close ties to a substitute Shingami who was able to enrage an entire colony of the worms and push them to attack our peaceful abode. It was an ever-so-bothersome head-ache. Nevertheless, what I have yet to understand is why such a fit is being thrown over a simple female.

So I continue to fight with this mortal, my blade meeting his and obviously overpowering him. His futile attempts at an Araancar's powers, his so called 'lunar fang,' is powerless against me. He called himself a vizard, the disease my Lord has spread into these Shinigami. A mistake that has shamed my Lord by coming to his palace and reckoning with his might. A failure of common sense that I shall correct with this thing's death.

I sent a fairly strong wave of spiritual pressure that was intended to kill. This has wasted enough of my time, and his existance was a risk to Las Noches's security. The surge of power poured forth, a mass of deep green, and devoured the Shinigami. However, before I could indulge in my victory, his black sword struck through the dark verde color, saving his body from harm. Such creatures could not take a hit. If he would not attack, at the very least he could bring out a strength differing from this weak form he displayed currently. I knew he held something greater, and the reason he held it all back now was far too apparent.

"You survived my cero without pulling out that mask. You're stronger than before," I stated, knowing that a weaker member of our ranks had fallen before this man. Or maybe it was the fact they believed that the 'connection' between each other created strength. Each one had its own lies, but whichever let him fight would allow excuses for falsehood, "is it because you defeated Grimmjow? Or possibly because your friends are fighting below this tower?"

Yet, the Shinigami's expression remained indifferent.

There was one more possibility. I found it more ridiculous than the others, yet humans are always unpredictable. "Or perhaps," I threw a glance to his reason for coming. Her eyes were glued to us, watching our every movement. The Woman's brows were furrowed, eyes wide, and lips pouted, symbolizing what they called 'worry,' if I remember correctly, "it's because of that Woman."

Immediately, both of their expressions grew with surprise, answering my question perfectly.

Yet, this man does understand that this woman is probably not the same as she once was. The mind goes under great stress, probable traumatization, when taken out of their element. Las Noches has twisted her, though for the better or worse was simply a point of view. "The Woman is one of us now. That will never change, even if you do 'rescue' her."

Ichigo began to stare at me with great intensity, almost as if he was trying to burn holes through my very being.

"What?" He simply questioned.

"Saving her is meaningless." I stated, letting the ominous air loom over the war-torn tower we resided in.

"That's not for you to decide." The Shinigami replied rebelliously, gripping his sword tighter, biting the inside of his cheek, and his eyes still fighting away the doubt.

"You're right, that's for Aizen to decide." I replied with ease. If Aizen wills it, it shall be done. That's all there is to it, no exceptions. That simple rule is law to the other Espada and I. Yet these humans cannot comprehend this fact. No matter how much you prove it or how much you force it down their throats, they have no sense to realize what it truly is.

I lunged in for a blow, pushing him into a pillar. He nodded his head to the side, my blade just barely grazing his ear before striking the column, crushing it with overwhelming, pure strength. He swung his blade in for a counter-attack, but my sword quickly slid from the crumbling stone, guiding its way back to the side of my head and blocking his slow-paced assault. He ceased providing force and pulled it back to his cranium. Missing, unfortunately. Yet, he took the chance selfishly, and guided his sword-arm to the remainder of my hollow mask. I ducked my head with adequate speed, while he smashed through another pillar. As he took a moment to reclaim balance, I prodded my sword towards him and he dodged it with great discomfort.

"There's more." I warned him, and repeated the motion more than a thousand times, watching as he moved from side to side avoiding the sharp tip. Eventually he threw himself back, jumping a yard or so away from me. As I rushed towards him, the tormented support tower fell to the tiled ground, dropping with a loud roar as pebbles and stones danced across the smooth squares.

I returned to him and then repeated the rapid motion of earlier. This time, however, his eyes wondered, watching my movements a bit too long. Before I could change pace, his arm seized mine, gripping my wrist tightly. My monotone face suddenly grew wide-eyed with surprise, a rare occurrence. And all within the same moment, his sword glided across my chest, ripping the clothes given to me by my Lord. I frowned further at this and felt my skin tear apart in a small seam. Nothing that will require heavy medication, if anything. It was a small scratch.

"I barely cut you. Is it because of your Hierro? It's tough." Ichigo stated the obvious as I lightly touched the scrape, making sure it was truly there.

"It seems I can read your movements a bit better now," he continued, arrogance in his voice, and a smirk playing at the end of his lip.

"What was that?" I questioned, being careful to fully apprehend how he calculated my movements.

"The last time I fought you, I couldn't read your movements at all. I couldn't read your attacks, defense, counters, speed, movements... Nothing. I felt like a statue fighting a machine. Maybe I'm able to read your movements because I've become more like a hollow..." He stated, explaining this with far too many words, "…or maybe, it's because you've become more like me."

I slammed my sword down towards the stone, splitting the ground beneath me. How dare he make assumptions like those? My brow deepened, and my muscles stiffened with anger. I didn't want to use the true strength of this form, but if it shall be, then I would.

"I see. You seem rather excited you can keep up with such low-level abilities" Slowly, I released the hold I held on my spiritual pressure, letting the air radiate with its presence. My sonido flashed me slightly above my provoker, getting ready to slice him down his center. His block managed to kick up an awful lot of debris in an attempt at hiding an escape, but too soon his body separated itself from the cloud, and I managed to get myself behind him. I prepared to add another impact, but he swung himself around, to which I returned behind him yet again. My blade was ready to crush his spinal cord, something that would surely finish this disruption. He could not stop me, nothing would. Yet, my expectation was fallen short. Some shield had stopped the attack. I frowned at the recognizable color. It cracked and crumbled effortlessly, yet something stopped me from counter-attacking, moving away, or doing anything but staring at the shattered pieces. The orange pieces held a dim glow that looked hopeless among the messy ground, and destroyed hall.

I glanced behind me to the Woman. She looked determined, her willingness to help defined, and yet a hint of a sadness behind it all. Why would she protect him? It was obvious he was to die before me. Why would she defend him? If she was so eager to guard everyone, why hadn't she done this before? If so, why not shield myself? ... I needn't her assistance; I could handle myself, unlike the man here.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, watching as she faltered with her grace every other moment. Even she unsure of what she had done.

She remained silent, continuing to watch me with the same sadness she had before.

"I asked why you helped him?" I repeated myself, being sure I was clear.

She only responded with utterance of undefined words, garbling out of her like a garbage disposal, "Why?" She parroted, looking down at her feet, unable to hold my gaze. "Well, because..."

"Because he's your friend?" The words rolled off my tongue bitterly and I swallowed it down, ignoring the scratching feeling in my throat. The feeling continued, resting in the pit of my stomach. A feeling I detested immensely. It only increased when I saw her steal glances towards the Shinigami, checking to see if he was alright, "Then why didn't you try protecting him from my first attack?" I continued on, prodding, "Why did you wait?"

I knew she couldn't answer me, but what confused me was why she couldn't. Why. A self-explanatory question such as this always had an answer.

"I-I didn't!" She weakly whined. She was nervous, strange.

"You're not sure." If she could not explain herself, than I shall. "Then let me explain." I turned myself to her, ready to state my facts, "You-"

"Would you shut up already?" A voice interrupted me, and I closed my mouth with slight disappointment, aggravation twitching my eye, coupled with the feeling that would not leave my stomach, "You keep going on and on about this crap. Am I supposed to care?" He inquired, his arrogance getting the better of him. He turned to the Woman, flashing a grin, "Thanks for the assist, Inoue," he said, "but this is gonna get serious, so get back."

I watched as her body flee deeper into the corridor, waiting 'til she was a safe distance away. It was purely for the terms Ichigo had wanted.

"I'm surprised at how talkative you are today. I always thought you were the silent type."

I grimaced at his words, and generally at him. He lowered his blade, keeping it pointedly at me. Lunar Fang resonated against the darkened metal.

"Lunar Fang, again? Haven't you realized it doesn't affect me?"

Instead of taking in my reasoning and pulling out his mask, he, in turn, started bounding towards me with the black spiritual pressure flying widely all around him. He was readying himself for a large, straight on hit. Our blades clanged against each other, his Lunar Fang getting threateningly close to myself. The sheer force began pushing me backwards, sending me flying towards the Woman. I took a chance and looked behind myself, catching the sight of her finding space between strong looking pillars. Satisfied, I let my eyes retreat back to my target of offense. I finally pushed him off, but his Lunar Fang never ceased, just simply glowing like a wildfire in the air. He swung at the floor, so I jumped to higher ground. Using my sonido, I flashed behind him, readying for an attack towards his neck. Yet, instead, I was greeted by another clang. The force of his sword penetrated throughout the area, lighting up the entire tower. He was still so arrogant.

"I know you're proud of yourself for using what little brains you possess, but have you learned nothing? Even with your mask on, your Lunar Fang can't strike me down. An unmasked Lunar Fang is a pointless waste of time, no matter how you use it."

Slowly, the speed of our battle grew and grew. Everything turned blurry except for the predictions of each other's moves. I stole one glance to the Woman, her face full of fear, and I forced the horrid feeling away.

She meant nothing.

OMIGOSHRLY Yes yes, it's finally out. Isn't it so beautiful :'D! I swear, this never would of made the light of day if It hadn't been for a new friend/co author of mine. ( Psssssssssst; She's OolashaSylvanas ... Check her out :o! She's amazin'~! ) She definitely got this story to look like the Jesus that it is now, so go send her a pm of Thank You for me C:

Hopefully you enjoyed, and wait for the next chapter C: