A/N: A reviewer recently suggested to me that ol' Kanaye is a self-insert, and to tell you the truth one of my initial fears when I started this project was that readers would get that impression. I assure you that he isn't a self-insert, and in fact he's about 180 degrees away from how I would ideally act or look. Since nobody mentioned anything, I left it alone. But now that someone's relayed his impressions, I feel that it's time to elaborate on Kanaye's condition. I'll address each of that reviewer's qualms as he presented them.

The first problem the reviewer had was that he was handsome. In case nobody noticed, everybody except for the dopes in Bleach is handsome. That shouldn't have been an issue in the first place. The second problem was that his attack was bigger and *stronger than Ichigo's. Bigger? Yes. The idea being that it's not controlled and just a great big mass of energy (whereas Ichigo's Getsuga is channeled and controlled through Zangetsu). A Lincoln Town Car's engine is bigger than a Cadillac CTS's six-banger, but I can almost guarantee that the Caddy'll smoke a Town Car every time. I starred "stronger" for this reason: when did I ever say it was stronger? I said "more raw", and I can see how people could mistake that for the word stronger, but I assure you that "more raw" and "stronger" are not synonymous in any thesaurus. There will actually be a chapter in the future that will alleviate any concern about the relative power levels of Ichigo and Kanaye, so look forward to that.

The third problem is kinda part of the second: that Kanaye's attack made Rukia worry about Ichigo's safety. Yes, it made her worry. When you have latent romantic feelings for someone, you're going to worry when they get in a fight. Seemed like the best way to set up Rukia to actually show some emotion, emotionally stunted as she is. The fourth, and final, problem was that Kanaye attracted both Orihime and Rangiku. In Rangiku's case, I actually really enjoy her character plus she's a total skeeze. Enough said. As for Orihime: she is an integral part of Bleach, but she has this super-glued attachment to Ichigo. Since I don't particularly enjoy Orihime bashing, I needed a "replacement Ichigo". I thought about every character I knew of, but I couldn't come up with one that was enough like Ichigo to be able to take away her attention. And so Kanaye was created – his original purpose was to distract Orihime, which meant that I had to make him enough like Ichigo to distract her (enter La Cero and the basis of his attitude) but low profile enough that he didn't take the ultimate spotlight away from the rest of the cast (this isn't the Kanaye show, it's the everyone else show). Which is why I was concerned about the first three or four chapters of this story, when I was fleshing him out a bit.

It also probably didn't help that the reviewer I mentioned didn't read past the second chapter, when Kanaye was still being an attention hog.

A final thought: I salute all you authors who stay 100% true to character arcs and storylines. I appreciate that you have the patience and the willpower to do so. Me? I like to throw a little chili powder in with my steak to give it some kick. If that happens to offend you, then I ask that you please don't waste your time reading my story; and if you just can't stop yourself from reading it, at least have the decency to pick up on the subtler points instead of nitpicking. My apologies for this lengthy note. Thank you to everyone who read past the first three chapters and enjoy.

OoOoO

The trip across the desert seemed much shorter than it should have, but the tension thrumming among the small group hadn't diminished in the slightest. Renji glared daggers at Kanaye the entire way and Kanaye stared pointedly ahead. With the exception of Chad, who was attempting to handle the situation as logically as possible, the other shinigami were confused. They remained quiet, refusing to take any one Captain's side. Nicola was content to ignore his charges and opted to hum a tune of his own invention as he lead the Reapers to whom they assumed was the Lord of Hell.

He guided them into a large, tan stone building that lacked any real exterior style but rather reminded Ichigo of a cathedral of some sort. From there, he lead the seven Soul Reapers through and around a system of complicated tunnels. They were so complicated that even Rukia and Uryuu, with their expert training in tracking reiatsu, were hard pressed to sense the path of spiritual energy that traced back to the structure's entrance. Just like the tower they had left behind, this building's inner walls were composed of jet black panels that absorbed any and all light that touched them. In the cramped area of the tunnels, the effect was even eerier.

Soon enough the group emerged into a long rectangular room, and all but Nicola and Kanaye were surprised when the hard floor gave way to the same soft, warm black sand that littered the landscape of the majority of this realm. A black stone platform with a set of stairs leading up to a throne of the same material rose out of the sand at the far end of the room. Upon the throne sat a huge pale figure swathed in tattered black robes, obscured by the abstract shadows cast by the midnight ceiling.

Seven other figures of various sizes were gathered around the base of the platform, and Ichigo snarled when Aimone, Enzo, and the devilish clone of Senna came into focus. As the captive shinigami came closer to the waiting Respinto, the anti-Senna grinned widely and gave a short giggle.

"Hello again, Ichigo!" she tittered, throwing up a little wave. That only served to anger Ichigo further and he had to squash the urge to rend first hers, then Aimone's flesh from the pair's bones.

Enzo grinned manically, pointing a muscled finger at Kanaye, who had stopped just a few feet shy of Enzo's position. "Gotcha now, ya little bitch." Kanaye simply glared.

Nicola strutted forward, turning with a flourish in front of the great stone staircase. He made a wide sweep with his arms, then bowed low at the waist. "Lord Victor, I present to you our honored guests." He returned to a standing position with one quick, precise jerk, then stepped to the left, shoving his hands in his pockets and facing his captives.

Ichigo, who for the sake of his own sanity ignored the smiling Senna copy, and Renji took stock of their opponents as quickly and covertly as they could. Aimone, Enzo, and Nicola were relatively familiar at this point, but the other ex-Arrancar were mysteries. The smallest of the Respinto stood to the far right and appeared to be no older than a schoolboy. His shoulders were hunched inside a tight black bomber jacket and his arms were stuffed into the deep pockets of his black jeans. He looked as though he were trying to make himself look as small as possible and, if his near invisibility were any indication, he was succeeding. The woman next to him was quite the opposite in personality. Her fiery red hair hung in loose ringlets to the small of her back and her bright green eyes sparkled with the killer intent of one skilled in the art of assassination. A ruffled blouse untucked over slim black slacks concealed shapely curves, although the deep V of the blouse left little to the imagination. She had one thin, pale arm propped on her left hip and the other caressing a sheathed dagger on the opposite hip. The only spot of color in the room shone from the center of her chest, a heart-shaped pendant containing several small red gems.

Next to her stood Enzo and on his right were Aimone and his pet. Next to the two of them, a clearly distracted Nicola kept on humming his ditty and rocking on the balls of his feet. The remaining two were twins, female, each wearing mirror images of the other's bobbed blonde hair. They wore simple long-sleeved t-shirts and tight black jeans and stood so close that they looked to be melded at the hip. One was obviously more aggressive than the other, her shimmering azure eyes hard and icy as opposed to her sister's guarded gaze.

The massive man atop his throne was clearly Victor, but he hadn't yet addressed his "honored guests."

He stayed silent, waiting, watching his captives from underneath the veil of darkness that shadowed his face. Suddenly, a burst of reiatsu shook the room, making the walls and the knees of the lesser souls quake under its pressure.

"Shinigami. Welcome to my humble home," a deep voice rumbled. "You have already met Sinagra, Esposito, and da Cortona. My other servants, Icaro Infante, Marcella Ricci, and Fiore and Flora Moretti are also very pleased to meet you." He motioned to each one of the unknown Respinto in order, distinguishing Fiore as the more assertive of the twins.

As the low vibration of Victor's voice receded, so did the wave of reiatsu, yet the Soul Reapers remained silent. Spiritual energy pulsed and flexed when Victor chuckled, his amusement apparently lost on his army of fallen Arrancar. With what appeared to be great effort, Victor clenched the arms of his throne and leaned forward, slowly rising from his stony perch. Ichigo thought that perhaps time had slowed, the giant moved so sluggishly. Yet his heavy power prevented any sort of movement or escape attempt from the tiny shinigami, and none of the Soul Society's warriors dared reach for his weapon. Once he was fully erect, he began his way down from the platform upon which sat his throne. Step by step came down. Every step saw his form grow larger in the eyes of his captives, and every step they thought that he could grow no more. Finally, at long, long last, Victor came to stand directly between Aimone and Enzo. He stood at least twice as tall as either of them and his mass was proportional to his height. His face, no longer covered in eternal shadow, was covered in burns and scars, the largest of which were made by four claws and ran diagonally from his left temple to the opposite corner of his lips. A ragged mop of stringy black hair topped his scarred head. Victor rested a beefy hand upon the hilt of a massive, guardless katana and grinned widely at the glaring shinigami beneath him.

"Good evening," he began,"or should I say good morning. It is so hard to tell time when one is surrounded by so much darkness," the giant grumbled. "Then again, time is worthless when spending an eternity ruling over a wasteland of discarded souls and disgusting demons."

The shinigami refused to respond, partly out of wariness, but partly because they were unsure how to speak to such an awesomely powerful being when said being began a conversation by making idle chit-chat.

Upon seeing that his guests were mute, Victor snorted, a particularly undignified sound that somehow made his dignity the least of the dangers that waited within his soul. "I suppose you are all wondering why my servants have brought you to me. Or, more likely, why they have brought you to me without removing your zanpakuto." He waved his free hand as though he were dismissing some meaningless drivel. "You may try to escape," Victor growled, his reiatsu shivering accordingly. "In fact, I welcome you to try. The simple fact is that not one of you could best my servants on their worst day."

He said it with such finality, such resolve, that the Soul Reapers knew the truth of the statement even as they peered into the cruel eyes of their Respinto foes. Cold, harsh desperation settled upon their minds, and any ill-defined plans of escape died before they were created. Rukia in particular hardened with the knowledge that there was no way to leave the depths of Hell, and Ichigo glanced worriedly at her when her aura turned frigid.

"Now, to the purpose of your visit."

Victor glared at Icaro, the smallest Respinto, and the small boy scurried off behind the throne. He returned immediately, carrying in one hand a small wooden bowl. The boy practically launched the object into his king's hand before returning to his place in the line of Respinto. Victor, emotionless now, presented the bowl to his captives so that they could see its empty basin. Carved upon the inner surface was a single rune that looked vaguely like something that Ichigo had seen before – a series of triangles drawn over each other to form a sort of jagged circle. A square sat in the center of the shape so that the final product resembled a bursting star – he couldn't remember where he would have seen such an odd symbol.

Suddenly, Rukia gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. All eyes settled upon her trembling form, but Ichigo, he looked at her eyes. And he had never seen her eyes more terrified than in that moment. Not when she was facing the Sokyoku, not when she was impaled by Grimmjow, not when she had to bear being away from Ichigo for seventeen long, heart-wrenching months. The sheer desperation, the fear with which she gazed upon that simple wooden bowl was enough to freeze his blood and sink the icy fangs of fury deep into his heart. Even though the Hollow inside of him was merely a shell of what it used to be, a construct that he willingly allowed to live, Ichigo could feel the latent Hollow's screams for Victor's blood. How dare he strike that sort of fear into their little shinigami.

"That...that thing. That was supposed to be destroyed even before Yamamoto was Captain Commander." Her voice trailed off into a whisper, the fear in each syllable palpable in the reiatsu-laden air.

"Quite right, Ms. Kuchiki. I'm certain you learned of this when you were training to inherit your surname," Victor said happily. "Would you care to enlighten the rest of my guests as to this trinket's nature?"

Ichigo, his rage alight and the recent use of his Vasto Lorde shell augmenting that rage, nearly snapped and unsheathed Zangetsu, but one look at Rukia quelled his anger. She pointed absently, not really seeing or hearing what was going on around her. In that moment, he had never seen her so broken, and his instinct to protect won over his need to bring down the walls around him.

"It's the Tobira," the petite shinigami whispered.

"The door?" Renji shouted, his curiosity deflated now that his old friend has just called that tiny thing a door. "Rukia, it's just a little bowl, there's no way it's a door."

"No, not a door. The door. A portal to anything in any universe in any reality," the short shinigami continued, some of her consciousness returning to her violet eyes. "It eats the souls of Shinigami in order to open the portal. The last time someone tried to use it, all of Soul Society was consumed!" Her whispers turned to panicked shouts, and Ichigo grabbed her by the waist to keep her from lunging for the Tobira. "We have to destroy it! I can't watch everything around me be devoured! Not again!"

Ichigo froze. Again? When had she seen everything devoured the first time?

"You are almost completely correct, little Kuchiki." Rukia went silent and limp in Ichigo's arms, though she appeared to be conscious still. The orange-haired Vizard gathered her up and held her to his side, ready to speed away at a moment's notice. Victor closed his massive hand around his newest possession and nodded in appreciation for the youngest Kuchiki's knowledge. "But, you are wrong about one thing. The Tobira does not feed on souls, it feeds on spiritual pressure. It would take huge numbers of enlisted shinigami to open a portal for even a second. However, if it were to consume three incredibly powerful Captains instead, well...the potential would be limitless."

The final pieces at last clicked into place within the minds of the shinigami, and Orihime sobbed involuntarily at Victor's implication. The horror of their predicament was laid at their feet, ready for them to see now that the wool had been pulled from their eyes. Renji growled, a deep sound that came from his throat. "No," he spat. "I don't believe it."

Victor laughed with all the gusto of a maniacal tyrant, his vibrating reiatsu forcing the walls of his sandy palace outward with the force of its exuberance. He stepped forward, beaming straight into Renji's feral eyes. "Believe it, my shinigami friend. The three of you will soon be eaten; ground and processed as though you were worthless scum. And your unwitting brethren?" He paused, leering at the lower-ranked shinigami before returning his attention to that head of flaming red hair. "Well, they were never meant to tag along, but they should make a decent snack..."

The air cracked and Victor was blown backward, crashing through the staircase that led up to his throne and into the far wall. Stone and sand crumbled together into black dust, the ruins of the tall throne slamming into the formless floor. Each Respinto was speechless, staring with open mouths at the wall where Victor had disappeared into a wide crater. The shinigami were equally amazed, but hadn't seen or felt any force that could have sent Victor flying at such incredible velocity.

Then, with little warning, a waterfall of dense, dark reiatsu crashed down upon the room, forcing Uryuu and Orihime to their knees. Ichigo recognized the tone of the pressure immediately, as did Renji and a newly revived Rukia. For they were all very familiar with the unique blend of Hollow and Shinigami that formed the profile of a Vizard. Wild cackling from within their group confirmed their fears and they all turned to face Kanaye. He flexed his outstretched fist and shook out his hand even as his fierce red reiatsu poured out of his body in angry waves.

"You sorry sack of shit," Kanaye roared at the spot that marked Victor's sudden stop. "I can't believe you forgot me, even after all this time." His twisted voice cackled once more, although this time it sounded angry instead of joyful. The Respinto had recovered by this time and were prepared to leap at the insolent brat that dared to strike their king, but the same booming reiatsu that first greeted the shinigami when they came before the broken throne exploded throughout the room.

"You...I never imagined that you were more than a distraction for my servants to enter the Soul Society," Victor's voice called from the crater in the rear wall. A burst of sound similar to that which accompanied sonido rang out, and then Victor was standing unharmed before the small group of Reapers. His grin spoke of crazed amusement, but his coal black eyes promised slow, agonizing death. "But I could never forget the stinking fucking Hollow that TRIED TO TAKE MY THRONE AND GAVE ME THESE SCARS!" The ruler of Hell jabbed a meaty finger at the claw marks crowning the other smaller burns and scars, spittle sloshing from his lips.

"And I'll never forget the smug fucker who put his hand in my gut," the Hollow retorted. "And now I'm gonna return the favor, so let's play while the Boss is still in the mood to let me run free." The Captain reached for his sword.

"Wait, Kanaye!" Ichigo yelled. Having regained control of his addled brain, he set aside his reservations about the newest Captain's state and concentrated on the fact that one of his comrades was about to race into battle with a being who was, for all intents and purpose, a god.

"Don't worry about me, Kingy," the imposter Kanaye crowed. He turned to face his companions, and all but Orihime recoiled when they saw his black and red eyes. "Me and fugly here are just gonna have a little fun." With that, he turned and whipped Ankoku from its sheath with the force of a whirlwind.

OoOoO

A/N: I was going to add a lot more to this chapter to give it a little more substance, but I've gone overboard as it is, so I'll stick the rest in the next chapter.