Aizen is a very captivating character--I love making him the bad guy! ('cause... well... that's what he is.)
Anyway. Read & review, and be as critical as you want. I know I made this is a little too dramatic... but it's a prologue, and that's what I do to most intros.

Prologue

A shadowy figure arrives in Hueco Mundo, tall and slender, with an aura of power and a long coat that flaps in the wind. His hand reaches out, fingertips touching the bloody chest of a limp body on the ground. A murmuring of words escapes from his lips, words with a silent rhythm but don't seem to make any sense. The body, seemingly dead, jerks uncontrollably a few times before a panting noise erupts out as the dying man gasps for air.

"Is that good enough for you?" The figure asks. The tone is almost mocking, but the words are still calm and quietly spoken.

The man on the ground twitches, breathing heavily, and his ragged voice cuts through the air. "Heal me," he hisses in pain.

The figure chuckles. "Why would I do that, Grimmjow?"

The man, Grimmjow, lets out a howl of fury and ache as his clotting wounds sting, as the blood starts to trickle once again. His eyes, an electric blue, smolder over as the injuries burn and throb.

"Ai-Aizen." He wheezes furiously. "Why bring me back when…?"

The lean figure, Sousuke Aizen, smiles coldly. "Bring you back? I merely recovered your numb senses. You're still dying, Grimmjow, former Sexta Espada. Only now you can feel it."

The Arrancar's eyes widen in shock and anger, his bleeding fingers clenching into an agonizingly painful fist. "F-Former?"

"Yes, 'former,'" Aizen says, regarding Grimmjow with a small smirk. "You really think you'd still remain my number six after being so easily defeated by Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"Nnoitra—" Grimmjow begins, but Aizen cuts him off with his powerful reiatsu. The former Espada holds in his scream by stifling it with a growl, trying hard not to pass out.

How weak would that be?

"Listen," The brown-haired Shinigami whispers into his ear, bending over to do so. "Do as I say, and maybe you'll get your rank back. Be powerful again."

The temptation is too luring. On his back, next to his Hollow hole, Grimmjow can already imagine his erased 6 tattoo coming back as inky and black as when he'd first been honored as Sexta. But when his trembling hand reaches back to trace it, all he feels is a predominantly smooth patch of skin, more sensitive and swollen than the rest of him—the evidence of his tattoo being ripped off.

"I'll do anything," Grimmjow croaks, and Aizen smiles. He leans over—and in a bone-chilling tone—whispers the plan to his newest pawn.

Soi Fon, captain of the Second Division, slowly edges open the wooden door of her room. Shouts can be heard from yards away outside, yells and gasps and one loud, rather colorful string of expletives, which could only come from a certain Kenpachi Zaraki and his rumbling voice.

"Shut up!" Soi Fon snaps, sticking her head out the door, and the huddled group of people fall silent.

Then,
"You can't tell us what to do, lil' bee," mutters Kenpachi. He pauses, and a haughty expression crosses his face. "But I guess yer just jealous 'cause you 'eren't the one who found the 'Spada."

"Espada?" The petite woman's eyes narrow and she unsheathes Suzembachi, rigid and instantly alert.

"Hey… don'… hurt me." A cracked voice croaks from the center of the circle, making heads turn. Soi Fon blinks, then starts to push Shinigami out of her way, knocking over a very disgruntled captain of the Eleventh Division.

She's so taken aback at what she finds in front of her that her voice doesn't seem to work anymore. The crumpled heap on the ground, slightly mangled, is staring up at her with bloodshot eyes. The person is almost unrecognizable, but Soi Fon can still make out the blood-crusted blue hair, the gaping hole in his revealed abdomen, the ivory jaw bone attached to one side of his face.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

"I practically kill myself to get here, and this is the welcome I get? A couple of swearwords and a black-haired midget who won't stop staring at me?" His voice is husky.

With lightning-like speed, Soi Fon's Zanpakutō is at the Arrancar's neck, the icy point of her blade pressed against his flesh. "Do you want to be killed?" She hisses in a low tone. "Because no one addresses a captain like that." She surprises herself with her own aggression.

He blinks, before his signature maniacal smile spreads across his face. "Whoa, you're a captain? I just thought you had a nice—"

"Care to explain what you're doing here?" She interrupts, as demanding as usual, cutting off whatever inappropriate comment he was about to make. "Speak, Espada, or you will never wake up again!"

Grimmjow carefully raises a bloodied hand and pushes Suzembachi away from his throat. His hand is trembling, Soi Fon realizes; not from fear, but from shock and excruciating pain.

"I came here," he says simply, "because I want to join you guys."

Review... please. For the sake of a new Bleach-fic writer.