But even with all the strength befitting the leader of a clan who resided in their own pocket dimension of the Soul King's Palace, Kamisaigaiku could not last forever against the monster that was Aizen.
The dreary storm clouds that had gathered over the battlefield were dense, and the failing light of the day was no match for the brilliant emerald and violet spirit energy that colored the sky as the two shinigami went head-to-head in a raging battle.
They danced across the clouds with furious grace borne from centuries of experience, driving at each other through the moisture like men possessed. But with each strike, Kamisaigaiku felt himself grow a little more frustrated, a little more uneasy. Conversely, Aizen's casual smile grew more pronounced and jagged with every attack he parried and rebuffed.
Hideyoshi's panting breaths came in ragged gasps. He'd never fought anyone for so long, as his immense spiritual pressure was usually enough to best any foe without even having to raise a finger. When he had first come to the Soul Society, he had been required to reign in his power so that the other shinigami might still be able to breathe when he walked by.
But now he threw everything he had at Aizen, pushing himself to his absolute limit as he let loose for the first time in ages, and he was starting to slow down. Meanwhile, his opponent seemed to be hitting his stride- Aizen was only getting stronger and faster with every clash of their zanpakuto.
"You fight well, Lord Kamisaigaiku, but you must realize that this battle is fruitless."
Aizen appeared so quickly that it was only Kamisaigaiku's ingrained training and superhuman reflexes that kept him from being skewered alive. He barely managed to raise his blade in time to parry Aizen's sword, and push the blade away from himself with mere inches to spare. Their weapons rang loudly, crying out in protest as Kamisaigaiku struggled to keep Aizen's sword at bay. The nobleman gripped his zanpakuto tightly with both hands, which trembled from the strain of holding back the Tensa Zangetsu. Meanwhile, the man who'd been impersonating him for the last year was only using one hand, and was still pushing him back.
They were high up, now, and the clouds that swept by the combatants obscured their vision and dampened their clothing. The cool wetness caressed Kamisaigaiku's sore limbs, and his many wounds. His bankai could allow him to regenerate at a much greater rate by increasing his white blood cell count, and subverting that enriched blood to the wounded area, but Aizen's overwhelming spiritual pressure seemed to be preventing it. His many injuries made it difficult to think clearly, and his head swam unpleasantly as Aizen's smile curled even more tightly across his mouth.
Though his body was beaten, and his mind was thick with exhaustion, Kamisaigaiku's tongue still managed to speak his truth. "Fruitless or no, this battle must be fought. I cannot sit idly by while I watch the Thirteen Divisions get annihilated, and I cannot rest while the man who murdered my family is right in front of me!"
The pressure bearing down against his sword was lifted, and Hideyoshi felt a piercing pain in his side as the Tensa Zangetsu slashed him across his ribcage, the cold metal edge grinding mercilessly against his bones. He bit back a strangled cry, and swung wildly in the direction that the attack had come from, but he felt his blade cut only air.
Then, a voice from behind him spoke in his impostor's frosty tone. "That is most unfortunate. If you had relinquished your anger and joined me, I might have spared you."
"GRAAAAAAARRRGH!" Hideyoshi whipped around, dragging his blade in a deadly arc. The blow was expertly parried by Aizen, who then held a clawed hand over Kamisaigaiku's face. The nobleman's pupils contracted as violet spirit energy flickered across Aizen's palm like fire, and then-
There was a strange sound, like the air was ablaze. It was as if a raging inferno had been compressed into a single point in Aizen's outstretched hand. Without so much as an uttered word, Aizen released the pent-up spirit energy, and Kamisaigaiku was blasted back towards the ground by the concussive force of the nonverbal hado, his body enveloped in blinding light that seared his flesh and burned his hair.
It was excruciating, for even as he was burning away, his bankai fought to keep him alive. As his flesh was charred and blistered, his nerve endings kept regrowing, prolonging his suffering as he came crashing down from the heavens.
All the lieutenants could see was a single point of darkness within a massive beam of lilac colored spirit energy that was as difficult to look at as the midday sun, and Aizen, standing triumphant amongst the clouds, frowning stoically as he struck down one of the most challenging foes he'd faced that day.
When it was over, Kamisaigaiku was lying in a pit of charred earth, his body little more than a burnt husk that twitched and gargled. The ground beneath him was smoldering, and the surrounding trees had all been turned to ash by the power of Aizen's kido. It was like a comet had fallen from the sky, and had seared a massive hole into the ground next to the valley that had been created by the Lethal Getsuga.
"How pointless," Aizen muttered to himself.
Though Rukia had always considered herself to be a woman of logic, despair was beginning to wrap its icy hands around her heart. Even so, the cold in her chest was nothing compared to the red-hot fury in her gut. The ice and fire that fought within her kept her frozen in place, yet her hands shook so badly from rage that she felt she may explode if she didn't act soon.
There was Aizen, standing among the clouds, surveying everyone present as though they were beneath him. His cold demeanor and deadpan expression was irritating and bothersome, like salt rubbed in a wound. Her head still throbbed, and her mind was still moving at a snail's pace, as if it hadn't really registered anything that had happened since her brother had been cut down.
She wanted to run Aizen through, to kill him, to end his miserable life. But even if she tried to fulfill her revenge, the logical part of her brain knew that it would only result in her death.
The soul reaper took the time to glance around the battlefield, and saw that the lieutenants were all still gathered around Yuzu and Karin. Aside from them, there was only Chad, Tatsuki, Keigo, Mizuiru, Tessai, Ginta, and Ururu.
With Kamisaigaiku defeated, Rukia knew that she had the best chance of defeating Aizen. She had achieved bankai, and had entered the Soul King's Palace. She had even eaten the reishi enhanced food from the Soul King's dimension twice. There was no one better to kill Aizen than her.
But something stayed Rukia's hand. Something kept her from attacking Aizen, and joining the person she had lost in the afterlife.
That something was love. Rukia loved her friends, so much so that she couldn't bring herself to activate her bankai in their presence. Not only would doing so kill everyone, but it would ultimately be useless. Nothing else had worked on Aizen thus far. Not even the Lethal Getsuga. Would the Haka no Togame really turn out to be any different?
Rukia looked this way and that, staring at each and every person on that field. Some she knew from her time in the Gotei Thirteen. Others she had met in the world of the living. But no matter how they had met, or where they had come from, Rukia's love for her comrades kept her from giving in to her hatred of Aizen. She could not sacrifice everyone she cared for to stop the traitor. No, not even if it would spare them suffering could she activate her bankai. She must hold out hope, and believe in them. And if they should fail… then Rukia would do it. She would use her bankai, and hopefully be reunited with the mysterious person whom had held her heart.
Though he had hoped for a less violent ascension to the throne, Aizen supposed that all change had start somewhere. After waiting for this moment for millennia, his patience had grown thin, and so it was with undisguised relish that he turned his attentions to the Vice Captains of the Thirteen Divisions. They were still faithful to the Gotei Thirteen, and unable to truly comprehend the greatness that stood before them.
And so, he descended upon high, for if they could not see his greatness for themselves, he had no choice but to demonstrate the error of their ways. Such was the merciless reign of the new Soul King.
But even before he could make his move, Aizen noticed a shift from within their ranks, a subtle movement that was supposed to be kept secret. He watched, perplexed, as the ranks shifted, but no one made any move to strike.
'What are they planning?' he wondered as he flash stepped, reappearing not twenty paces from the group. Their faces grew pale at his approach, their fingers tightened around the hilts of their zanpakuto as they clustered a little closer together.
And then, with all the softness one would expect from a casual, friendly conversation, Aizen issued his challenge. "Submit to my authority, or pay with your lives."
No one dared lower their guard, or their zanpakuto. Not one of the Vice Captains trusted Aizen, and none were swayed by his soft-spoken ultimatum. In the simple act of defying his will, they had sealed their collective doom.
Aizen gave a sigh as he hefted the Tensa Zangetsu. How many lives had he claimed that day? How many more did he need to take before these fools simply gave in? A soft smile fell into place, playing across his lips. Frustration and anger were of no use to him. He had expected this resistance; it was only natural for people who placed their hopes and dreams in each other, instead of in themselves.
"As you wish," he muttered, "I shall make this quick."
Yumichika, the fourth seat of Squad Eleven, was the first to break rank and charge Aizen. Beauty was all he had ever aspired to, and so a beautiful death against a godly tyrant was one that he simply could not resist. It was the fire that burned within all members of Squad Eleven, the flame that spurred him onward in the face of any adversity, that guided his hand as he struck at Aizen.
The fourth seat swung his blade in a backhanded slash, but the traitor flash stepped. Yumichika let loose a growl and spun around, only to find that Aizen's sword was right between his eyes.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Aizen dragged the tip of Zangetsu up, catching it's razor sharp edge against Yumichika's forehead, and tearing a long line of red through his flesh.
The pain from that one little cut was immense, as if someone had driven a flaming sword into his skull, and Yumichika backpedaled quickly, blinded by the pain, wiping the blood from his head and face with the back of his sleeve.
"Your obsession with beauty is nothing more than a vain attempt to justify your existence," Aizen told him. "And now, I shall snuff it out."
Aizen lashed out with the Tensa Zangetsu, and Yumichika raised his sword to parry. He blinked, and by that time, it was all over.
Sosuke Aizen was gone, and Yumichika frowned, confused as to what had just happened. Why did he feel no pain? Then he looked down.
The blade of his zanpakuto had been cut clean off of the hilt of the sword, and was now spinning as it winked out of view far below. His carefully contoured and wrinkle-free shihakusho (which he took very good care of, so that it might be as flawless and beautiful as he himself) was now in tattered ruins. And beneath this, Yumichika could see a great wound upon his chest, stained with blood that appeared black in the darkness. His vision grew darker, and the ground rose swiftly to meet him as he fell.
Ikkaku lunged forth next, prepared to avenge his fallen friend. His spear crackled with crimson spirit energy as he prepared to unleash his bankai- but Aizen was too fast.
Before the bankai could fully manifest, it was dashed to ribbons by the unparalleled speed of the Tensa Zangetsu. Ikkaku could do little more than stare in wonder as his power was completely destroyed in front of his eyes, and his weapon fell apart in his hands. His bald head was slick with sweat, and for the first time since he'd met Kenpachi Zaraki, Ikkaku Madarame felt true fear. He was a warrior without a weapon- a fighter with no way to fight.
It did not last long, though, as Aizen pointed the Tensa Zangetsu at him, making Ikkaku's heart beat furiously.
"Hm, to have to use this power…" Aizen mused to himself as black and violet spirit energy began to vibrate and crackle along the blade in his hands.
Ikkaku stared, awestruck in his own idiocy. He knew that technique from somewhere, but how? He looked on as Aizen braced his sword arm with his free hand, and the chain of the Tensa Zangetsu coiled up the traitor's arm.
Not only did Ikkaku know that stance, and that attack, he knew that the power behind it was immeasurable. It was a cutting attack at heart, a simple blade of spirit energy honed to a supernatural sharpness. Its crude form and simple nature spoke of its original wielder's lack of spiritual control. In the hands of Aizen, that technique would be hundreds of times more powerful, and much more effective.
Ikkaku grinned in the face of his oncoming demise- that is, until he looked behind him. Gathered there, huddled together, were all of the other lieutenants.
But they couldn't move just yet. If they did, then Aizen would know exactly what they were up to. The third seat of the Eleventh Division grit his teeth in a fierce grimace, his eyes wide, reflecting the bright light of Aizen's royal purple spirit energy.
"C'mon then, Spirit King!" Ikkaku spat, beating a hand against his chest. "Let's see what you can do! Hit me with your best shot! I'm ready for ya!"
Aizen's malignant gaze met the bald man's dark eyes, seeing the unwavering loyalty and undeniable challenge written within them. Ikkaku knew what was coming. He knew that it would be impossible to negate the attack, even if he did still have his bankai. But he would use his body to shield the others, if only to give them a few more seconds….
"As you wish… Getsuga Tenshou," the imposter incanted quietly. The power within the zanpakuto he was using exploded outward, and black energy shot through with violet light swirled and roiled before lancing forth like a great spear of energy. As it came, Ikkaku released every last bit of his own reiatsu, which burned like a thousand red flares, and painted everything around him in a bloody shade of crimson.
Even when the energy of the Getsuga pierced his ruby aura, and then his body, Ikkaku did not falter. Blood spurted from between his lips, and bubbled down his chin. And then, Ikkaku was swept away by the overwhelming power of the attack, laughing like a lunatic as he mocked Aizen to his very last.
The Getsuga cut right through him, and barreled onward, to where the rest of the lieutenants were standing, huddled in a formation that they did not break until the very last moment.
Only, there was nothing and no one else there. Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki were gone.
Upon realizing this, Aizen tore through the remaining lieutenants with unrelenting ferocity, sending them to their deaths one by one as each fell before the blade of the Tensa Zangetsu.
Mashiro was dispatched with relative ease via a piercing stab right through her gut when she attempted to close with Aizen, and land a kick on his stupid face. He tossed her corpse to the side as carelessly as one would throw out trash.
Then fell Rangiku, whose Haineko managed to keep her alive for a sparse few moments before Aizen blasted the particles of her sword away with his spiritual pressure, and his blade caught her across the chest. Akon tried to use an advanced bakudo to seal Aizen's power, but Aizen smashed through the kido as easily as he broke Akon's neck, which he did with little more than a flick of his wrist.
After that, the vice captains encircled the Soul King on all sides, but that, too, proved to be ineffectual. Shuhei Hisagi, Izuru Kira, and Genshiro Okikiba all fell to a single, gargantuan Getsuga, which ignored their powerful spiritual pressures, and diced them into pieces before blasting their remains away in a magnificent arc of black spirit energy.
Chad made to intervene, seeking to help the few remaining vice captains, but the harsh stares of the lieutenants kept him and his friends at bay. This was a fight between the Court Guard Squads, and a traitor. Any interference would be met with harsh repercussions. If there was one thing the young, tanned man could understand, it was a fight to protect one's pride, and that was not the kind of fight he could butt into.
Renji and Omaeda both closed upon Aizen with their blades drawn, having managed to be quick enough to avoid every attack thus far. Renji slid a hand over the blade of Zabimaru, and cried, "Bankai!" while Omaedo raised his sword over his head and bellowed, "Smash 'em, Gegetsuburi!"
The heavy head of Gegetstuburi's massive flail arced through the air with a dull thud, like that of a helicopter's blades. Omaeda let the momentum build before lashing out at Aizen, who caught the flail in his hand like it weighed nothing, entirely aware of the fact that it was only a distraction.
That was when a harsh, angry voice from behind Aizen said, "Sōō Zabimaru: Orochiō! Zaga Teppō!"
The Soul King glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, there was Renji. He wore pauldrons of bone, and a great, skeletal serpent's tail uncoiling from his waist. From his left shoulder protruded a large green arm coated in fur, and in his right hand was his sword, which had become large and serrated.
Renji's bankai was truly awe inspiring to behold, and it made Aizen both elated and distraught. "You've grown quite strong, Lieutenant Abarai. Well done."
"HYAAAAAAAARGH!" Renji howled, like a beast possessed, as he pointed his sword at Aizen. It began to glimmer with crimson spirit energy, and Omaeda, his job done, got out of the way of the attack as Renji poured everything he had into his bankai. The energy climaxed, pouring out of him with such force that it felt as though he had pulled all the reishi of the entire world to bear upon his opponent. It shot like a bullet from a gun. The wind cried out in agony as Renji's power split the air and shook the leaves from the trees below them.
Aizen was gone in a flash of light, and an earth rumbling explosion, leaving only a cloud of smoke which quickly dissipated. The sky overhead was now layered with clouds, and it was getting late. Thunder flashed in the sky, and Renji looked about, almost as if in shock. A few raindrops sprinkled here and there: harbingers of the storm that was yet to come. A cry broke the impenetrable silence, and Renji saw Omaeda fall, blood trailing in his wake.
A hand came to rest upon Renji's shoulder, and he realized, all too late, that his last attack was not as effective as he had hoped.
He looked down, almost instinctively, and found a long, black blade protruding from his gut.
"Well fought," acknowledged Aizen, "but in using your hatred of me as a means to grow stronger, you've only proven your inferiority."
Shock was beginning to set in, making it hard for Renji to stay focused. Using the Tensa Zangetsu, Aizen had stabbed him in the back, moving with such speed that Renji hadn't even felt the wound until the blood was dripping from it.
"D-Damn…" he hissed through clenched teeth as his bankai fell away.
Even with all of his training and preparation, it had done no good. Renji had been training hard for years, getting ready for the moment his power would be needed. He was driven by an almost insane desire to be strong- strong enough to protect his friends. He got the distinct impression that he had been inspired by someone close to him, but who, he couldn't really say.
All he knew was that he had lost. He had given it his all, and it still would never be enough compared to the almost effortless might of Aizen.
"Do not feel as though you have failed," Aizen comforted the dying man, speaking so quietly that only he could hear. "In the end, there was no other way for this battle to end. This is the fate of any who stand in my way."
"Go… fuck… yourself," whispered Renji as his face turned deathly pale, and he teetered on the edge of consciousness.
Aizen closed his eyes, smiling knowingly. "I suppose it's true what they say. You can take the man out of Squad Eleven, but you can't take Squad Eleven out of the man."
The traitor twisted his blade, opening the wound to ensure that death would be short coming before he wrenched the zanpakuto from Renji's back. The lieutenant staggered, and fell forward into the air before tumbling towards the earth.
Renji was the last to be cut down, leaving only one lieutenant left on the field. It was Momo Hinamori, the Vice Captain of the Fifth Division, and the battle within her was as violent and bloody as the battle she had been spectating up until that moment.
She had given up so much for Aizen. She had helped him by becoming a spy, though she had managed to convince herself it was because she cared about her friends within the Court Guard Squads.
But as Aizen cut down the last of the leaders of the Gotei Thirteen, she recalled why it was she had agreed to help Aizen in the first place.
She had wanted Toshiro spared, along with her fellow lieutenants, and the Captains. She had wanted them all to be together, unified under a Soul King who was smart and strong. She was so sure that they would see the error of their ways. She had been positive that they would acknowledge Aizen as the Soul King, just like she did, and they would want to serve under him together.
But now they were all dead. Every single one of her friends was gone. The Shinigami Women's Association had been all but wiped out, and their blood was on Aizen's hands. And Toshiro… he was…
It was all a bit much for poor Momo to take. Even as the realization dawned upon her, she felt her heart sink to somewhere around her knees. She was a traitor now; she had betrayed her friends, and they had died cursing her. They did not end up joining her, they did not see the situation as she did. And now Aizen, the man she had looked up to for so long, had killed everyone she cared about. In that moment, it felt as if all the world had come crumbling down around Momo once again, and all she could do was drown in the certainty that it was all her fault.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Her heartbeat was like a war drum in her ears. Momo Hinamori was a lieutenant of the Gotei Thirteen… or she had been, up until she'd turned on her comrades, and helped lead them to their doom.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dumpba-dump
Her heartbeat grew faster, until it felt like lightning was shooting through her veins, and guilt burned in her stomach.
Just as Renji's body fell, taking its place alongside all of the others whom had fallen during the battle, Momo felt something she had never really felt before.
Hatred.
It coursed through her like a lion, roaring angrily for the destruction of her foes. Momo had never hated anything in her entire life, so the sensation was new, and a pleasant relief from her world-ending guilt. She had always seen the good in people, even when they could not see it in themselves. She had never had a reason to hate. Sure, there were good and bad in all things, but she did not abjectly hate anyone or anything- not even hollows. Until now, that is.
'Aizen,' Momo thought darkly, hating the name, and the face of the man who bore it. She hated everything about his stupid, handsome face. She hated his cold callousness, and his lack of empathy. She hated his charming smile, and his perfect teeth. She hated every little thing about Sosuke Aizen, and the thought of him using her for so many years was more than she could bear.
She had loved him, once. She had thought he was perfect, amazing. Momo had loved Sosuke Aizen as if he himself had hung the moon and stars in the sky. She loved him like she had never loved anyone before, not even Toshiro, whom she had known since they were children.
To think that he would continue to use her, even after she had given up so much just to be with him, was as painful as having bamboo shoots shoved under her fingernails. Her heart was in tatters, her mind was in shambles, and in that moment, where she managed to regain her semblance of calm, she knew what she had to do.
Aizen's back was still turned to her, but that made no difference. What she was about to do would surely end in her death. It was a small price to pay to be reunited with her friends, and atone for her wrongdoings.
"Snap!" Momo commanded softly as hot, salty tears drew long lines of silver down her face before dripping from her chin, "Tobiume!"
A great gout of flame sprang from Momo's zanpakuto as she pointed the blade at Aizen. She watched in slow motion as the flames arced towards her former captain, hissing and spitting like a firecracker as they went. She watched in horror as Aizen flash stepped around the attack without even looking at it, appearing in front of her in a split second.
His eyes, which had once been so warm and comforting to her, were now flat discs of violet that glowed like suns. His smile was gone, as was his patience. The blood on his sword ran, and with each droplet that fell from the tip of the Tensa Zangetsu, Momo knew she had done the right thing. After all, she had been the one who turned spy for Aizen. She had fed him information about the barrier. She had stood at his side as he cut down her friends. The blood on his sword was nothing compared to the blood on Momo's hands, and the screams that echoed in her head from the deaths of the other vice captains were like a never-ending symphony of horror. Not even Aizen's most disappointed gaze could wither her, or make her shrink away in fear. In her volatile anger, she found her meekness was gone. In her untethered fury, she at last found the courage she had lacked when it came to Aizen.
"You have been a good servant thus far, so I will give you the opportunity to explain yourself," Aizen murmured.
"Shut up," Momo growled venomously, her eyes darkened with hatred, "just… shut up."
"You dare-"
"I said SHUT UP!" Momo slashed at Aizen, forcing him to retreat from her sword.
Momo hadn't noticed it, but the more enraged she became, the hotter her sword grew. It glowed as if she had just pulled it from the forge, and the heat radiating off of it was powerful enough to make her skin tighten, even when she held it at arm's length. The way it gave off such heat was terrifyingly familiar for Aizen, who had once met Genryusai Yamamoto and his Ryujin Jakka in combat.
"What happened to you?" Momo asked quietly, shaking her head as she struggled to comprehend her former superior. "The Captain Aizen I remember was never so high and mighty. He never spoke down to others, even if they came from the bowels of the Rukon district. He never raised his voice, or got upset when I messed up. He was always kind, and thoughtful. Everyone looked up to you and admired you! I would've staked my life on you becoming the next Head Captain after Commander Yamamoto! I-I loved you, Captain Aizen! So tell me, please, what changed?! Why are you so cold?! How could you do this to everyone- to me?! Please, tell me!"
"Is that it? You simply wish to know what changed?" Aizen wondered, tilting his head in askance.
"Yes… What made you so distant? Why are people nothing more than pawns to you? I need to know… because I don't think I can follow you any longer, my Captain." She almost couldn't meet his eyes- those horrible, glowing violet eyes that put a hard knot in her gut. Even as they stood facing each other, Momo had never felt so separated from her former Captain. It was as if a great ravine stood between them, and every time Momo tried to build a bridge to the other side, the land beneath her feet eroded a little more. But now… now she wondered if she should even build a bridge, for the path Aizen was on was one that she doubted she could follow.
Aizen stared at his former subordinate. She was so small, and deathly pale. She looked unwell, and a feverish sweat had broken upon her brow the instant she had attacked him. The silent battle that waged within her was loud against Aizen's eardrums as she waited for an answer. He could hear the battle cries and dying screams as her mind waged a bloody war upon her heart.
"I am no longer a Captain, Lieutenant Hinamori. I am the Soul King. And I have not changed since the day I was reincarnated. The Aizen you knew as your Captain was nothing more than another mask I wore, a role I played in pursuit of my magnum opus. The only thing that has every truly mattered to me was reclaiming my throne. You were merely another victim of my deception."
The look on his face was harder than iron, and his expression was blank. There was no hint of a lie in his words now, no signs of deceit. The thread that had held the mask upon his face in Momo's mind slipped, and when it hit the ground far below, it shattered so violently that it was as if the world had ended all over again. How many times must she suffer for her Captain? How many times must he hurt her before his final ambitions no longer stand between them?
His soft voice cut through her anguish like a finely honed zanpakuto. "I meant what I said all those years ago, when I first left the Thirteen Court Guard Squads. It would have been kinder for me to kill you back then. It would have spared you much pain."
Momo's eyes widened, and her vision became unfocused as his words finally hit home. Aizen wished she were dead. That had been his intention, when he had stabbed her and left her for dead in the living quarters of the Central Forty-Six. He didn't do it because she meant anything to him, but because her devotion was a nuisance. She was nothing but a thorn in his side, a burden that he had carried. When she would have given up everything and anything just to please him, he would've only shrugged, uncaring of her sacrifices.
With every breath Momo took, the heat of her blade grew. Tears began to stream from her dead, lifeless eyes as she slowly came to terms with the realization that she was never anything more than a tool. She bared her teeth, trying her best not to sob. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tear everything apart and start anew. She wanted to go back in time, and start a new life, just so that she could never grow as attached to Aizen as she had.
Her hands were becoming redder, and blisters began to appear on her fingers as Tobiume absorbed her rage and turned it into power.
"Lord Aizen," she mumbled shakily, her dark brown eyes beginning to refocus as her hatred bloomed like a terrible flower, "I can no longer serve you."
And just like that, Momo vanished.
She appeared on Aizen's flank, reeling back with her sword as the prongs on her blade released great waves of heat. Her lips parted in a savage cry as her hair broke free of its bonds and flew out behind her in a frenzy of dark brown locks.
"SNAP, TOBIUME!" she howled, swinging her sword at Aizen with reckless abandon.
A golden ball of flame slid down the prongs on her zanpakuto, so great and bright that it was as if she had pulled the sun from the sky and hurled it at Aizen. He looked over his shoulder, stunned by the magnitude of the attack. So intense was its power that it seemed to burn away her tears before they could spill down her face, and it singed her hair and her shihakusho.
"HIYAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
The fireball exploded outward, bearing down upon Aizen so quickly that he barely had time to register it. It struck him full in the chest, burrowing through his skin, and tearing a hole right through where his heart would be. Momo knew better than to rejoice, though, for she knew that Aizen had no heart, and it would take more than a single fireball to kill him.
She swung her sword like a woman possessed, her arms moving so fast that they were a blur. Meanwhile, several spheres of golden flames, each more powerful than the last, flew at Aizen, catching him in the leg, in his arm, in his head, and each time, burning a hole straight through him.
Momo couldn't feel anything but pain. Her sword was burning her up as well, and the reishi that composed her physical form was quickly consumed by Tobiume. She panted, wheezing, gasping for air, but she did not relent, until at long last, Aizen had been completely obliterated, and her fingers were so charred that she could not grip her sword.
Tobuime fell from her hands, cutting through the air as it spun towards the ground far below.
"You have had your vengeance," a gentle, calming tone whispered in her ear. "This is the first gift I have bestowed upon you."
Momo turned, and there, standing so close that she could feel the heat of his body, was none other than Aizen- the man she thought she had killed.
"But how-"
"The Aizen you thought you hit and killed was an afterimage. And now, my traitorous lieutenant, I have one final gift for you. Consider it a reward for services rendered."
He pulled her around, and ended up having to hold her against his chest, lest she fall from the sky. No ordinary death would be enough for such an act of betrayal. The punishment for her crime must be far more severe. He relinquished his grip upon the Tensa Zangetsu, which hovered at his side as he cradled the dying woman to his chest.
"You will not feel any discomfort," Aizen muttered as he delicately reached up and brushed the hair out of her face. She did not respond, save to let out a shuddering breath. Aizen pressed his index finger against the crown of her brow, causing her head to loll backwards as she began to lose consciousness. "Farewell, Momo Hinamori. I release you from my service, and relieve you of your suffering."
Momo's eyes shot wide open as violet spirit energy began to envelope her, coursing through her body and making her gasp. She did not feel any pain for discomfort, but from the look on her face, she knew what was coming. The reishi that composed her body was vibrating, and her skin felt white-hot. She stared into Aizen's eyes, and saw only pity. She could taste iron on her tongue, and blood filled her throat. She held onto the man she hated for dear life, gripping his navy robes with trembling fingers, and then-
With a sound like a clap of thunder, Momo Hinamori vanished, leaving nothing but a few straggling violet embers of reishi swirling on a gentle breeze. She had been destroyed utterly, taken apart at the molecular level by Aizen's intensely precise control of his spirit energy, her life snuffed out by the man she both loved and abhorred, right up until the bitter end.
Sosuke Aizen lowered the hand that had been pressed against Momo's forehead, momentarily lost in thought. Perhaps it was his imagination, but her death seemed to weigh a bit more heavily upon him than those of the other members of the Gotei Thirteen. Perhaps, he thought to himself, Momo had grown to mean something to him as well, in some strange way. Much like his favorite calligraphy pen, his favorite teacup, or his most comfortable shihakusho. But the pain he had caused her, and the wounds he'd inflicted upon her mind were too much. And at the end of the day, Aizen had no use for a broken tool, regardless of how much time he had spent with it. First, he had lost the Kyoka Suigetsu- a weapon he had carried for millennium. And now, he had lost Momo, a servant whose loyalty had been unswerving for so long.
Rain began to fall, developing into a downpour in the span of a few seconds. It fell into Aizen's outstretched hand- the one he had used to obliterate Momo, forming a small pool of water in his palm that reflected his eyes, which were still bright with spirit energy begging to be released.
"Such is life, I suppose."
A/N:
This chapter is everything that I swore it wouldn't be when I originally planned it. It's literally just one long battle featuring Aizen handing everyone their asses. There's no humor, and the tension is sort of overshadowed by how ridiculously OP Aizen is. And I am so sick of typing the name 'Aizen' Like, if I had a dollar for every time I typed Aizen's name, I'd have enough money to pay for the animation and production of the new Bleach anime.
Not to mention that Aizen's powers are so cliché that it physically pains me to do a disservice to the guy. Like, c'mon, he's the Soul King, he should do something cool, right? Lol nah, he'll just spam the same abilities like he's playing Mortal Kombat. GG, losers.
But I suppose I should comment on the lack of content, and why it took so long to post. Truth is, I was taking a little break from this story to relax, and focus more on other things. Most of this was already typed up, it just needed to be finalized, but I was hesitant to skate over so many important battles that could have filled up a good number of chapters by themselves. In the end, I have a story to tell, so I chose to cut it short. I also got a new computer all set up, and had to manually move all my files over from my old computer, which was a pain. So, sorry to those of you who have been waiting in suspense. If it makes you feel better, I have a surprise for you!
During the time since I last posted, I managed to type this up, and commissioned an artist to do a scene from the chapter, right before Momo is destroyed. Without further ado, allow me to thank Midorizou of DeviantArt for sticking with me, even though I'm sure I was a pain to work with. They did an excellent job of bringing the scene to life, and I can't thank them enough for all their hard work.
Link to the art: deviantart dot com / midorizou / art / c- Raven - 880470234
Please copy and paste the link, and remove all the spaces! Or, you can simply look for 'Midorizou' on DA, and check out their profile! Their art is fantastic!
Music-
Of These Chains-Red (this song fits so well with the art I commissioned, give it a listen)
Helena-My Chemical Romance (all these character deaths got me fucked up)
All Fall Down-OneRepublic (title)
Wokeuplikethis-Gotye (aliens) (the lore I created to explain how Aizen is actually the Soul King be like)
Sorry this chapter is such a fuckin mess, but so am I. Thanks for reading.