And we're back! Sorry for the delay but my Uryuu/Tatsuki stories took over. One's wrapped up and the other's just gotten under way. Yeah its a crazy cracky couple.

I'm bumbed about the latest Bleach chapters too but hey, lets hope that soon we go back to the DOME!!

Also this story has been nominated over at the UFO awards so a big thanks to whoever did that. Now in order to be fully submitted it needs to be seconded. So if you're enjoying the story please second the nomination here:

http:// www . dotmoon . net / awards / awards_ nominees . php

(remove spaces from the address or just google the UFO awards)

In the meantime back to the story.


The sound of feet woke Ulquiorra.

Eyes snapping open in the blackness consciousness returned to him very quickly. Sleeping was a new and unpleasant development but it seemed that the survival instinct overrode even the more hindering effects of what was happening to him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the flickering of the candles Urahara kept in the room out of some strange desire to feel as if he was in a place where the sun shone and normalcy ruled. He could not see the shadows but he was sure that he had heard feet on the ground. He knew it was denial that had him sleeping fully clothed, hiding the evidence of what was happening to him. Denial and, perhaps, necessity as well. He was not foolish enough to think that he--or any person really--was skilled enough to survive in the desert of Hueco Mundo. Not ever but certainly not now. Not with things as they were.

Moving into a crouched position, Ulquiorra eased his weight forward and took it on the balls of his feet. Silently he shifted until he stood fully upright. In the darkness his eyes easily located the wrapped Zanpakuto. For a moment he considered leaving it inside. A practiced eye would know that there was something wrong with it, they would see a physical proof that he was drastically different. But even as he toyed with the idea he realized that the half helmet was gone and he had no idea where it was. No matter what happened he was going to be showing the physical symptoms. With no other choice he grabbed the wrapped bundle and tugged off the cloth with equal silence to reveal what lay underneath. It was strange to think that it was only a short while ago when he had held a sword in his hand.

Not anymore.

Now it was a staff, longer than his Zanpakuto had been and growing slowly but steadily. A physical manifestation of what was happening to him. He knew that Shinigami had blades, Arrancar and Vizards as well. Perhaps Murcielago would change as well one day, back to a sword, but he sincerely doubted it. Now as he held the smooth ebony of the staff in his hand, he realized that for the first time he might need to use it. Disgust churned through him. There was time when no matter the opponent he would not go into the fight with his weapon drawn. But not now, now he had to be prepared. The weakness the need to go into battle with a weapon at hand showed him made him sick. Sick and angry and sure of the fact that if he could he would like to destroy someone during this fight. Staff in hand, he turned and walked over to the door, sliding it back just enough to see who his adversaries were.

His green eyes locked with a pair of vacant hazel ones.

"Hello!"

Involuntarily Ulquiorra took a step back as Nel slid the doors open completely, pressing her hands to either frame and spreading her legs in a wider stance, her slim figure taking up the entirety of the space. The grin on her face was unnaturally bright, contrasted sharply with the vacant look in her eyes. Even in her adult form Nel had been one of the happier of the Arrancar and though her eyes had always shown with amusement and joy, there was nothing of that in them now. Oh there was emotion, to be sure, but it was the emotion of a child. She felt but there was no comprehension as to why she felt the way she did. Her helmet had chipped further, allowing more of her blue green hair to spill across her features and half hide the large scar that cut across her face. Her eyes darted across him before landing on the staff.

"Oooo," she looked at it intently, leaning forward while maintaining her grip on the doors, "what's that?"

"It is nothing," Ulquiorra said moving the staff to the side. Nel's hands left the door and instantly fastened around the staff, "Nel--"

It was too late.

The resounding burst of power was enough to send agony through his ears and knock them both clear off their feet. Nel fell against the floor of the room and Ulquiorra slammed into the nearby wall. Despite his ears roaring with agony, Ulquiorra both heard and felt the splintering crack as his back hit the wood Urahara had plated the house with. Air knocked out of his lungs, Ulquiorra dropped to his knees, hands flying out and catching his fall. He raised his head to see the black staff on the floor and past that the form of Nel. She was sitting up, her legs sprawled and her hands in her lap, looking around the room with a with a dazed look on her face, her eyes even more vacant than usual. His eyes went back to the staff laying in the center of the floor. Violent, temperamental--Ulquiorra had many choice words for the spirit that inhabited the staff on the floor, none of them even remotely positive.

"What's going on?! Nel?!"

Ulquiorra's eyes jerked up instantly to see Orihime standing there, still barefoot and her hair mussed from the kido induced sleep. She crossed the room very quickly as Nel's head turned towards her, her eyes remaining as vacant as always as she smiled up at Orihime, clearly not comprehending what was going on. She only looked over when Orihime was close enough to enter her spectrum of vision. Then she turned towards Orihime with the same bright, vacant smile she had flashed towards everyone else. Clearly she had done so with Orihime before, for the young woman found nothing out of sorts with the vacant look in her eyes. Quickly the young woman crouched beside Nel.

"Are you alright?!" she asked frantically.

Almost spellbound, Ulquiorra watched her. It was like he was looking, not across space but across time. The woman kneeling beside Nel was not the dark, broken creature that he had been dealing with. This was the Orihime of old, before Las Noches and Aizen--before him. There was not struggle or hesitance in her concern, no attempt to hide what she was feeling. Her emotions were stark on her face, obvious even to a person who would not have known how to read her. They were still in Urahara's strange home, still in the middle of a conflict more chaotic and twisted than any they had faced and yet in that moment she looked like the woman he remembered. The one who had defied the will of the Gods, for much much longer than he would have thought possible. It was like he was looking at a memory, brought to life.

A few days ago and Ulquiorra would have thought that was impossible.

He was old and he did have memories, most of which he would like to forget but a few he did not mind so much having. But Ulquiorra ahd known that they were just that: memories. They could not be brought back, no more than the dead could come to life as they were before their deaths. He had watched the person that Orihime Inoue had become, certain that the woman he had known was nothing more than another memory, existing only in the recesses of his mind. But now, in that moment, that memory was living and breathing and standing just in front of him. He was paralyzed. Not just by the damage he could feel but by the sight of something more unbelievable and impossible than any he could have imagined. He was afraid to move, afraid to breath even--for fear of what would happen when he looked away.

As if sensing his gaze on her, her eyes rose and locked with his.

His fingers tightened against the wood of the floor, bracing herself for the coldness to be in her eyes. But it was not there. Her grey eyes were open to him, the emotions reflected on her face echoed in her gaze. They were not the eyes of the woman who did not remember him, who only knew that something had been taken away from her but not what that something was. No, they were the eyes of a woman who had not yet understood what kind of cruelty the darker parts of the world held. They were the eyes of the woman who had sacrificed everything to save them--to save him--only to be deemed too much of a potential threat to Soul Society to be allowed to remain as she was.

Abruptly agony sliced across his stomach and back.

His arms buckled, his elbows hitting the ground as a sound came out of his mouth, but with the damage his ears had suffered he had no idea if it was low or if he had screamed at the top of his lungs. His head pressed against his forearms as the pain rolled through him. It was white hot and blinding, like someone was trying to physically break him apart. He tried desperately to inhale but every breath was worse. It was like his chest was constrained. He could feel the pain pulsing centrally in his back and his stomach, where his hierero had been literally broken. The pain sharpened, lacing up his back as if the rest of him was suddenly being broken as well. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe--he couldn't do anything except fight to remain conscious while, at the same time praying that he would loose unconsciousness.

"Ulquiorra--Ulquiorra!"

Orihime jumped to her feet and but found herself unable to run over to where the bone pale man was on his knees and forearms rigid with agony. She had woken up after hearing the strange noise only to find Nel and Ulquiorra sprawled on the ground. One moment he'd been fine and the next he was doubled over in agony, the sound torn from his mouth somehow both inhuman and chillingly human at the same time. Something was happening to him, something she had no idea how to deal with. Her mind immediately jumped to the fractured white skin, to the normal skin she'd glimpsed underneath it. Before she could think more about it, he began to gasp for air but the wheezing made it sound like he couldn't breathe, not like he was trying to. Orihime sucked in her breath, feeling like the air had left the room as well. She turned her head to call for Urahara--hoping against hope that the blond man would know what to do but the moment she opened her mouth she realized something terrible.

She couldn't breathe either.

Eyes widening, Orihime tried to take in a deep breath and found it was impossible. She couldn't do it. Her hands flew to her chest and throat, her fingers desperately searching out the reason she could not inhale properly but coming up with nothing. Nel sat uselessly beside her, her eyes still vacant as if she couldn't hear what was going on. Spots began to prick at Orihime's vision as she felt her knees weaken. Desperately she pressed herself against the wall, bracing her hands on her knees and trying to slow her panic but the shallow breaths were not helping. She was in trouble, real and true trouble with no way to figure out how to fix it. She couldn't shout for Urahara, couldn't do anything. Her eyes moved desperately around the room before they landed on Ulquiorra. Still on his knees, still supported by his forearms--he was struggling for air as well. Her eyes landed on the only weapon she could see, the staff on the ground between them. There wasn't anything to say this would work, that the crazy plan forming hazily in her jumbled, frantic, oxygen deprived mind was going to do anything. It was crazy.

But the idea of dying there struggling for air was a far crazier one.

Shoving herself off the wall, Orihime grabbed the staff and shoved herself up to her feet, though the action caused her vision to darken. Staggering over to Ulquiorra, she fought to look past the darkness and see his back. She could see the looseness in the fabric in a specific, focused part of his lower back. The rest of him was encased in the bone white. Praying she was not about to condemn them both, Orihime lifted the staff as high as she could over her head. The sounds that came from his lips were getting softer as she felt her own vision darken further, her grip on the staff becoming much weaker. There wasn't any time to think, no time to consider, all she could do was act.

As hard as she could, Orihime brought the staff down across Ulquiorra's upper back.

There was a sickening crack as the staff hit home. The second it did the tightness in her chest eased. Lungs working on pure instinct, she gasped for air and found it flooded her lungs. Her knees buckled as she dropped to the ground, coughing desperately as her lungs tried to get a normal breathing rhythm back. Beside her she heard Ulquiorra cough as well, but he made no move to push himself up. Tears pricked at her eyes as she sat there gasping for air. Breathing was all she could do, even as fear pulsed through her. Whatever had just happened, whatever was going on--now it was scary. She didn't understand it and a large part of her didn't want to. She wanted to get out of there, as fast as she could. Whatever answers could be here, she didn't want to find them if they cost her her life. Not like this, not after what had just happened.

But it hadn't happened to her, not really.

As her breathing became steadier she looked over at Ulquiorra. He was still doubled over, his hands in front of him but his face hidden both by his hair and his arms. He wasn't making any move to get up but from the gasping, she could tell that he was breathing easily. Just as she was. The back of her hand was still pressed to her mouth as she stared at him. If he felt her eyes on him though, he made no move to try and look at her. Orihime looked at him, realizing that it was odd he was not trying to look at her. Even when he had acted as if her touch had caused him physical pain, he had always looked at her. Admittedly, at times, it had been the kind of look where he spent most of his time trying not to let her know he was looking but he always had been. Now though he was not. His head was bowed and his hands were on the wood, his face hidden from her eyes. and Orihime felt worry course through her.

"U-Ulquiorra?" she spoke, her voice weak and tentative as she lowered her hand, "Ulquiorra?" she tried again, her voice a bit stronger.

"Uh oh," Nel spoke for the first time, "don't touch him or he'll break like a dropped tea pot," the grin that showed on her face was a vacant, a child's grin. Like a child delivering a death sentence, "white marble, white dust--it'll go everywhere and you won't be able to pick up all the pieces."

"I--" Orihime began, looking at Ulquiorra.

"Follow your feet! They remember the way!"

Orihime's head snapped back towards Nel as the woman's words came back to her. Follow, remember--Nel had not been giving her directions she had been telling her that she had been there before. Orihime glanced upwards. She was quite certain that she had not been in this house before--or maybe she had, she wasn't sure. She only knew that most of the place she had been she had gone because Ulquiorra had brought her there. He had said that she had ben there before and both Urahara and Grimmjow had echoed that. But Nel, Nel had told her as well and she had not realized it. But did that mean she knew everyone in this strange place? The idea was strange, to be sure, but not as strange as half the things that had happened to her in the past few--however long she had been there. Moving onto her hands and knees, Orihime focused herself on Ulquiorra. If she touched him was he really going to shatter? But he did not seem like he was going to move on his own.

"What happened?"

The sharp inquiry was jarring, especially when Orihime turned and saw it came from Urahara. She quickly realized shouting for his help would have been pointless. He was dressed in the threadbare cloths she was used to seeing him in but now they were stained with sand. But what caught her eye was the long tear across the fabric, edged with dark red. His skin was unbroken but Orihime had no doubt the blood was his. His eyes moved across the room as he took in the sight of what was happening. There was none of the carefreeness she was used to seeing in his gaze. He looked cold, calculating and cold, like he had no emotional attachment to anyone in the room. Quickly he crossed the room to where Ulquiorra was hunched. His eyes went over him in an assessment that seemed to tell him more than what Orihime's look had done. He turned to her.

"Can you stand?"

"Y-yes," she stammered out, "but--"

"Take Nel and go to the main room," Urahara ordered, "close the doors on your way out!"

"I will no!" Orihime said pushing herself to her feet, "I want to know what's happening to him! You can't keep having these secrets--what are you doing?!"

Instantly she found herself on the other side of the closed door. Her head spun as she realized he must have done something that she didn't understand--again. Shaking her head to clear it she looked over at Nel who was sitting sprawled on the floor, looking vacantly at the doors. Orihime walked over to the doors and grasped them, intent on pushing them open and going in there whether they wanted her to or not but she found them to be locked. Of course he would have a way to lock the doors. Cursing her bad luck, Orihime glared at the wood and rice paper before pressing her ear to the frame and trying to hear whatever was going on.

Urahara made sure the doors were locked before he walked back over to Ulquiorra. Carefully the scientist knelt down and looked at the hunched form of the former Espada. He heard the doors lock and knew that Orihime and Nel were gone and yet he was making no move to get up. Urahara ran a hand over his face as he looked at Ulquiorra, a feeling he had not felt in some time coiling through his stomach.

Excitement.

What fractures of humanity he had left told him he should not be feeling anything of the sort. His escape to this place, all that had led to the necessity of that escape, the very barest price should have been his sense of excitement. But he felt it inside him. He could feel the power that hummed through the room, power unlike any he had felt before. He felt like he was not underground, like the world had not ended at his hands. He felt like he was back in his lab, back before what he had taken had been stolen and warped and defined not as good or useful but as evil and twisted. It was science at its purest form. An experiment, a reaction, a result--a result he never could have dreamed of when he designed the orb that would destroy not only his world but almost every other one out there. He should not feel excited about the prospect of what was happening but excitement was exactly what he felt.

"Ulquiorra," he said, "sit up. Whatever's happened, hiding's not going to make it better."

He did not know what went through Ulquiorra's head as he moved, drawing himself inward. Urahara held himself still as Ulquiorra eased himself back onto his heels, his body still curled around itself. His movements were all done with trembling limbs. Urahara held himself still as he watched the the former Espada move, not reacting to anything though he was sure of what would happen. Slowly Ulquiorra straitened up until he sat there on his knees, his hands in his lap and his eyes locked with Urahara's.

Despite his efforts not to let anything show on his face Urahara knew his features were pure awe. His eyes moved over Ulquiorra as his mouth fell open. The excitement he felt evaporated, replaced with the awe reflected on his face. Words failed him, his mind failed him--he was sure that if he had enough humanity left to weep he would have. Urahara had never believed in the nonsensical notion of a God--and he was sure he had not back when he was a member of the living. He had heard tales of people who experienced miracles, things so wonderful and impossible that there could be no explanation for what was happening. Urahara was sure that there was an explanation for what he saw, somewhere there was one . But looking at it, he could not think of one. He had never dreamed this when he ad set out for the experiment, not in a million years and yet now as he looked at the being in front of him all he could think was that this was the ending he had been looking for, almost without even realizing it. The weight of the journey, of the events, that had taken him to this point was staggering to think about but sitting there Urahara realized that for the first time he could remember they seemed almost worth it. Everything that had brought him to this point, every life lost and wrong turn taken, the burden of it all lessened as he stared at Ulquiorra, lost in the awe of what he had created.

"My God," he breathed, "its finally done."


What just happened?! -that's probably a bad thing for the author to ask. I know what happened! But you'll find out soon too, promise. Next time we'll find out more of what happened to the other Espada and of course Ulquiorra's current situation as well. Maybe Orihime will get some answers out of Nel but I doubt it.

Anyway, please review! Last time only a few of you rock stars came out to review. Thanks to those who did, you guys rock my toe socks. For the rest of you, please PLEASE review! I accept anonymous reviews if you wanna do it that way but please review!