alright, interesting things have happened, and so we reach a climax chapter, which is slightly longer than usual, yay! :D and to my dear reader TenraiTsukuyomi, who has been paying so much attention to the details and it makes me so friggin' happy, i can say you are half-right about your theory. but this we will see in probably the next chapter. anyway, MOVING ON!

That night, just as the first strands of dark isolation grabbed at him, Ulquiorra was ripped from his slumber by a disturbance; simultaneously, his mind registered sound, sensation and pressure in the blackness of his room, the moon overcast by clouds and robbing him of his vision until his hand flew out and instinctively found the smooth, raised panel on his wall that triggered the lights. Once on, he found the writhing, panting form of Erin on his floor, her throat churning out gutteral sounds that were similar to the sounds of a choking animal; she'd fallen from her perch on his window sill, which is what had initially woken him before her spirit pressure sky rocketed and began to fluctuate spastically as she tried to get up and move, though he couldn't be certain if she were awake or not.

Rising from his bed and determined to stop her bizarre episode, he went to her just as her power peaked and Cuatro found himself driven heavily to his knees under it; not to be stopped by it again, he let loose some of his own reiatsu for the first time, which punched a hole through her own dense cloud and shook the walls of his wing but allowed him to withstand her pressure until it declined again, the large room already permeated with such dense energy, a human's soul would be crushed almost instantly if it entered. Erin croaked, kicking out and trying to find purchase on the stone floor but finding no such luck, one wing moving lazily as if she would try to fly, but her body had pinned her other between the floor and wall, so she looked rather pathetic.

Ulquiorra studied her for a moment, trying to determine if it was safe for him to approach when her head turned and she crooned, "Ulquiorra..." in the most heartbreaking way that would pain any normal person to hear; naturally, it didn't affect him. Not that way. It did, however, prompt him to kneel and lift her head in his arms, her movements slowing as she breathed, "It... burns... inside..."

He remained silent as the episode suddenly ended with Erin passing out on him, her pressure zipping up and her breath coming deep and slow, everything growing still as he brought his own reiatsu down to its normal level, his mind working overtime to understand what had just happened. There was only one thing it could be. Although she couldn't hear him, Ulquiorra's voice cut through the eerie silence a simple, clear,

"I see."

Morning hadn't come as abruptly today as it normally did, as the lights in the Cuatro Espada's room had remained on through the night hours; only his biological clock saved him from waking late. With a start, he jerked awake, finding himself abnormally stiff and seated strangely. As he came to, Ulquiorra realized quickly that he was sitting at the foot of his bed, slouched over the sleeping form of Erin whose head was nestled on his lap still, one arm draped over her muzzle and acting like a pillow for him. With a sharp twitch, his neck cracked and alleviated some of his soreness while he dredged up the events of the night, slowly blinking sleep from his mind.

Erin had some kind of fit, this he knew, but the cause of it was something he could only guess at, though his guesses were usually correct. But after that, his fatigue had taken over and faded whatever had happened next until he was certain he was just making it up to fill the void in his memory. He recalled sitting there silently, gently running his hand along her nose ridge while he mulled over what had happened, wanting her to stay asleep so she wouldn't have another attack. After that, he must've thought himself into a coma because there was nothing else.

He did have a theory now, though, as to why her reiatsu was fluctuating and why she was in pain, and he found it necessary to alert lord Aizen immediately so he could postpone the Arrancar-ification; as he started to get up, a little creaky from his poor choice in sleeping position, he felt her great head slide from his lap and hit the floor softly, her body twitching; she groaned quietly. That's when Ulquiorra noticed her colors had diminished over the course of the night, her hide dull and seeming saggy and dry; he moved quickly to change his clothes, never mind the shower, and told her sternly, "Get up."

Moaning, Erin wondered, "Why...?"

"We must see lord Aizen immediately."

"It hurts... I don't want to..."

He wasn't taking no for an answer-when did he ever? "Now, Adjucha. Yes, it hurts. Deal with it and get up or I will drag you there myself."

She wanted to flick her tail at him and say "Help yourself" but sensing something off about him, she acquiesced, much as she didn't want to, and got onto her shakey limbs one-by-one, feeling dizzy. "I can't see straight... I feel funny..."

"Stop complaining." Getting as suitable as he could, he turned on his heel and marched toward the door and said, "Come," without even waiting for her to respond, knowing she would follow on her own.

His pace was a brisk march that made his coattails flutter more than usual, his hands fisted in his pockets once again as he listened behind him for Erin's dragging click-clack, making sure she stayed upright; if she collapsed, he'd have to drag her, and he didn't want to waste time turning around to get her when everything was time-sensitive now. Thankfully, they made it without difficulty, though he did have to stop several times to wait for her to catch up, her body slowly beginning to give out on her which both confused and worried her-that she made certain he knew.

Once more at the great doors with the odd figures, Cuatro knocked four times and was admitted more slowly than he would've preferred, walking straight into the dimmness of the throne chamber and into the spotlight as Aizen's smooth voice purred with mild interest, "Ulquiorra? This is unusual for you."

"Forgive my intrusion, lord Aizen," he began, placing one arm over his body and bowing slightly, "but there has been a complication with Erin."

He sensed the shinigami sit upright with muted quickness, his normally level voice laced with tension he was wise to ignore. "Complication? What happened?"

Erin drug her tired carcass into the room and tried to sit next to her Espada, her jaws unhinged as she struggled to breathe, feeling everything going numb slowly as her power began to slip away bit-by-bit. Ulquiorra spared her aglance before explaining, "This is what's wrong with her. I believe she's reached that point in her evolution once more and changing her before it is completed might have negative side-effects on her abilities."

But Aizen wasn't listening. He could feel the way her spirit pressure was roiling about inside her and with a jolt, he felt the Hogyoku nearby awaken, his fear quickly becoming a reality before him. Moving with forced ease, he reached over and opened the cylinder that he kept the mysterious item in and touched it softly, beseeching it with his heart.

Quite suddenly, Ulquiorra felt a rush around him and with a small sound of surprise, Erin was cut off from him, semi-opaque walls closing in around her; white bandages were coiling around her weakened body in a blur, with her having no energy left to fight it off, darkness claiming her body and mind until she was nothing more than a dragon-shaped mummy in a glass case. Confused once more, Ulquiorra glanced between his shadowy master and his fraccion, not understanding what had just happened; surely his lord knew that changing a Hollow when in such an unstable state carried more risks than it was worth?

"Lord Aizen, why have you chosen to continue with the Arrancar-ification?"

Aizen was sweating, but he didn't let even himself admit it, though he couldn't keep the tension from his voice this time as he stated simply, "Because I cannot allow Erin to become a Vasto Lorde." He prayed silently, Don't let it be too late.

Implications hit Ulquiorra like a wrecking ball as he realized with severe shock that-despite hiding it well-Aizen was afraid.

Afraid of Erin.

Because Erin was stronger than he was.

Don't let it be too late.

Ulquiorra had been instructed to go about his day as normal, which he did somewhat grudgingly; ever since Erin had arrived, his quaint little world had been turn upside-down, with more questions lingering around than answers. Getting back to a normal routine might be enjoyable for a while, but he couldn't for the life of him shake the anxiety that had taken root in his mind. Erin was on the verge of becoming the next level of Hollow: the rarest and most powerful of Menos, the fearsome Vasto Lorde; she was already powerful to begin with, and changing right before becoming an Arrancar would put her over the top and make her their greatest asset. Yet Aizen refused to let that happen. Why? Because the great Sosuke Aizen was afraid of a Menos.

In a way it was understandable, as her potential was unbelievable, but his awe of the shinigami had plummeted considerably to think that he was afraid of being usurped by Erin. If he played his cards right, she'd be none the wiser to their immense difference in power, and so the threat would be nullified. He supposed it would be his job to continue weaving the lies and deceit into her before she figured it out, but now he really didn't care to. But the facade had to remain so long as he valued his life, so he deigned to remain under Aizen's thumb a while longer; perhaps he was worried over nothing and Erin emerged no stronger than Uno, what with her transition disrupting her power and all. It never paid to be cautious.

Ulquiorra stopped walking and looked behind himself. Aizen had been very specific about no one disturbing the transition in case it altered her in any way, which was unsual enough. He wasn't covering his tracks very well either, which was even more unusual. Surely the others would catch on and realize something was amiss?

Or perhaps he put too much faith in the minds of trash.

When had that happened?

Everything was dark. Erin was used to it normally, but with her standard darkness there came nothing else. But this? This darkness was laced with an easily indentifiable sensation known as "heart-stopping pain". Everything-absolutely everything-burned and ached and felt like it was being torn apart constantly, as if every cell in her body were exploding a once; then it would change to a crushing weight that pulled tighter and tighter, shrinking her down. To make it worse, there was no break, no pause, no warning. It all happened in the space of heartbeats-crush-explode-crush-explode-so that she had no time to even breathe, let alone scream; she doubted anyone was around to hear her anyway, as she couldn't sense anything.

She tried to struggle, tried to orient herself through the blaze burning within her body, tried to at least find a sense of time amid the chaos; her panic had made her fidgety, worrisome, she couldn't think as the voices in her head-all the many hundreds of thousands of Hollows she'd devoured and which had been devoured by them-screamed together, given at least that boon, the sound stagnated, gurgling, sort of fuzzy as if coming in waves. With that, there was no way for her to fight back.

He tried, he really did, but after two long days of having Erin at his side, Ulquiorra had gotten used to her presence, to looking over his shoulder and finding her there, to having someone beside him who didn't turn away from him and who had witty, intelligent conversations to carry on with. Now he was alone again, surrounded by a trash-filled, empty world where he was the only one there for himself.

It was awful for him to find himself listening for a click-clack behind him, to look for a flash fo white and blue or to wait for some sign she was near. He, Ulquiorra Schiffer, had gotten himself attached to someone. He'd never thought it was possible, never even considered the chance, that in this world of shadow and moon where everything is black and there is no color, he'd find another white being.

White that shined like the sun.

Erin felt a shift, a tug, some strange stillness in her exploding pain that brought a single thought to mind: Ulquiorra. Ever still and silent, the essence of solidarity. She missed him, and thinking of him brought a peace to her as she wondered what he was doing, what time it was, if maybe he was sleeping. She remembered staying awake at night and leaving the window to let the moonlight in so she could see him; yeah, it was probably creepy, but without him knowing she would crawl over and check up on him throughout the night. Suffering from regular nightmares, she was used to not sleeping or getting enough sleep, so every time she was disturbed, she'd get up and run a circuit around his bed, often doing it on autopilot, to make sure he wasn't having any more nightmares himself.

When he slept, Ulquiorra was surprisingly calm-looking-not expressionless, but calm. There was a distinct difference.

That calm was taking over as she pulled in on herself, pulled away from the pain, shrank, disappeared...

Ulquiorra reached his room and opened the door. He got ready to sleep as he always did, feeling unusually weary. What was wrong with him? Worrying about someone else was not in his nature and being alone was normal for him. Everything made sense before Erin arrived. But even though he wanted to have a grudge, he knew it was pointless; his world was upsidedown now and it wouldn't ever be right again.

Erin felt separated from the chaos around her now-relief at last!-but also small, like she was trapped in a too-large room. Her breath was hard, but she felt her strength returning slowly; she'd be able to break out soon. Lifting her hand seemed impossible, but she did it, her talons wanting to sharpen themselves on something, her body aching to be set free from this black prison she'd been put in. But as she poked into the darkness, snagging on the prison walls, she felt a jolt.

Suddenly, white flooded her prison. The bandages returned and she roared defiantly as they wrapped her up once more.

Today was better. Yes, all that had happened was that he had gotten used to having someone around, but now things seemed back to normal. The anxiety had gone away with a good night's sleep-"good" apart from the typical nightmare he claimed he didn't have-and now he just had to try and enjoy his isolation before everything got flipped topsy-turvy again.

Walking about aimlessly, as per the usual, he crossed a hallway that had a small part exposed to the dome; halfway through the sunny part, he found himself stopping and looking out over the sand; an aerial exit was nearby and let a draft in so his hair ruffled gently as he found he had the perfect vantage point to see the walkway Erin had collapsed just the day before. He remembered being rendered senseless by her damn sparkling again before getting his feet swept out from under him; then she'd taken off through the air, the wind whipping around him in a way that brought that lingering need to spread his own wings and feel the wind coarse through his hair just like this.

It had been too long since he'd been able to fly.

She tried to fight, to struggle in the whiteness that had taken over the black, to escape the pain that had returned, but she could barely move. Her body felt so strange, so small and light, and it was getitng smaller and lighter as the bandages flexed and crushed her exploding cells; Erin thought she'd become mush.

Somehow Ulquiorra had ended up on the sands of the dome, right where he sparred with Erin only two days prior. Without wind, the sand hadn't shifted and stll bore marks of their duel, including the crater his body had made. Remembering that actually brought an ache to his neck and shoulders; he hadn't been playing her then, he'd actually been unconscious a brief moment, which he couldn't believe, and had used it to his advantage. He'd never admit he'd been knocked out, especially by an Adjucha, no matter how powerful they were.

He had his pride still.

Erin had been restrained, crucified even, or at least that's how she felt. Breathing was impossible and she could swear the pressure had been building inside her from the constant crushing, becoming her own boom bubble as it were. There came a point where she wanted to just give up and let herself be smashed, but just as she started to think about that, something dark marred the whiteness. She couldn't lift her head to look around, and yet she could see it off a little ways from her, just at the edge of what she assumed was her vision. There was so much white she couldn't be sure.

:So, you'd give up power for life?:

Erin jerked, wondering where that voice was coming from.

:If you're going to give up power, do it for something worth the trouble.:

Life is worth the trouble, she thought-spoke back to whatever it was.

:What life is there for those who feel nothing?:

Plenty. I feel.

:You must have a heart to feel.:

Screw that. I have a heart. I'd have to to explain my behavior.

:There's no two ways about this. Either you do or you don't.:

What difference does it make?

:When you figure it out, come and see me. I'll be waiting.:

What?

The burning suddenly, somehow, skyrocketed and she screamed in her head, the whiteness seeming to grow brighter until she lost sense of all color, her eyes being seared by the light.

Avoiding the ghosts of Erin had been tricky, but he'd managed and kept his sanity over the three days it took for her Arrancar-ification to be complete. Now Ulquiorra was on his way back to the chamber to witness her rebirth; part of him, however miniscule it be, was still reeling from the last week of his existence. A lifetime without her and he was fine, two days travelling, three days with her and now three days without and nothing was exactly as it was before. he could kid himself all he wanted, but Erin's presence had been burned into his merely by her existing around him, and he couldn't explain why her over everyone else. That was the frustrating part. He'd never needed anyone before, never wanted anyone, never felt understood, was always alone or ignored.

Then he'd found someone like him and now he couldn't let it go.

He was so pathetic.

Trying to save his own face as he entered the chamber and took his position around the shrunken box that now contained a slight, human-like mummy, he justified himself with his curiosity at how much stronger she'd gotten. He needed to know if Aizen truly wasn't the strongest being anymore and if his Adjucha-his fraccion-changed anything about the pecking order in Las Noches.

Today he would find out.

Once the council of Espada and their underlings had convened, they waited for Aizen to retrieve the small device and approach the box, his manner once again under complete control. With his cocky smirk in place, he lifted the Hogyoku and murmured, "Time to awaken, little one," before placing it in the small slot in the box and activating it.

A surge of power cut through the vast, dark room, shattering the box in an explosion of white smoke. The new Arrancar gasped loudly, their hip-length, sky-hued hair fanning out around them as they slouched to the ground; a wakizashi in a rose-colored sheath clattered to the floor just an arm's length away.

Female, of course, with a mask fragment covering her left eye and most of the upper-left side of her head, and a slender, pale body that had the faintest of sun-kissed, golden coloring, her hair blanketing her as she lay on the painfullycool ground. For several long seconds, the only sound was her breathing, but Aizen went to speak when he saw her sliding into a sitting position, her fingers tugging her zanpakuto with her when they caught the little tiestring and setting it in her lap, her messy bangs hiding her uncovered eye, "Welcome. Please tell us your name, sister."

She looked up. Her eyes were completely black.

It couldn't be described as a blanket, or even as a sea, but the densest wave of spirit pressure any of them had ever felt suddenly exploded into the room, catching everyone off guard and driving most of them either to their knees or right onto their faces, the walls shaking and the foor beginning to crack. Aizen, Uno and-by sheer force of will-Ulquiorra managed to stay on their feet initially, the bearing down of the pressure was becoming too much bit-by-bit; they were about to release their own just to withstand the wave when it began to evaporate, bringing relief as it left.

The shinigami with the God-complex watched as she blinked and the darkness receeded from her right eye, revealing it was even bluer than her hair, while her face was painted with shock-or terror, he couldn't tell-her breathing still deep and hard. He kept his guard up, his eyes narrowing as he waited for her to answer his previous statement, a strange weight making him feel slow.

In some awe, she reached up with one hand and ran her fingers through her hair, looked down at her body; she swept her flowing locks back over her shoulders, bunching them at her nape. "My name?" she asked in a voice that was medium-pitched and strong, chills beginning to descend on her skin. Her free hand gripped the handle of her blade and slowly pulled it out and she watched it gleam, the length equal to that of her elbow to her fingertips, sharpened on one side to the point of razor-fineness; she lifted it behind her neck, knowing she was being watched curiously by all the mysterious presences in the room. "My name is Erin Void,"-she jerked the blade upward and suddenly her gorgeous locks tumbled from her neck-"and I hate having long hair."

UPDATE! for those of you who have read this far and followed along and given me motivation, due enjoy this link. yes, I drew that myself

art/Ulquiorra-Schiffer-Primera-Etapa-370851419?q=gallery%3Atsoyukiku&qo=0