Shattered Realms

by MJLCoyoteStarrk

Aizen's defeat has left a tense peace between Arrancars and Soul Reapers. The resulting isolation has lasted for 200 years, only to be broken by a covert expedition from the Soul Society that has vanished. A small group is sent out to find out what happened only to find themselves facing the affects of the past while old heroes struggle w/their own pasts. Prologue has been updated

12. Chapter 11: Shattered Dreams

Shattered Realms

By Eduard Kassel and MJLCoyoteStarrk

Chapter 11: Shattered Dreams

(Meditation 1: Loss)

"You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood…back home to the escapes of Time and Memory." –Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again

"Are you sure about this?" Ichigo yelled to Chad. The scene felt a bit nostalgic to his training under Kisuke Urahara. He found the feeling rather annoying.

The young Captain stood in the open space of Chad's underground training ground, clutching one of the specialized practice swords. He had kept his Gigai on as an additional handicap, but had removed his coat to reveal the black shirt he wore underneath. Chad looked down on him from his perch on top of a two story tall rock spire, not bothering to answer Ichigo. His expression was as stoic and unreadable as ever.

"Hey Ginger! Don't go acting like I'm not here!" Ophelia yelled.

The Goth stood about twenty yards from him. Her hands were balled into fists pointing to the ground. She reminded him of an angry girl pose from one of the anime shows that Karin used to watch. He would have snickered if he wasn't sure it would just piss her off more.

Ophelia had not changed out of her Goth Lolita dress, but was pulling on a pair of gauntlets of over-lapping steel plates over her forearms. The gauntlets were fingerless, covering the back of her hand with spikes running up the arm from the wrist. Ichigo thought that the gauntlets looked pretty badass, but he wasn't sure what kind of fighting she was going to use them for. He wondered if it would be like the Reiatsu enhanced martial arts that Yoruichi used. He supposed that he would find out soon enough.

"You do realize that talking to someone else isn't the same as acting like you aren't here, right?" Ichigo asked.

Ophelia actually snarled at him and rolled her eyes. He resisted the urge to smile and shake his head at her overreactions.

"Of course I know that, Dumbass," Ophelia muttered.

Ichigo couldn't help but be reminded of a long-deceased little blonde menace.

Seriously, if she starts hitting me with her shoe then I'll have to find Shinji and let him know that Chad found Hiyori's reincarnation.

"Let's get this thing started already," Ophelia said. "I hate pre-fight speeches. Oh, and just so you know, Ginger, if you stop fighting to talk then I won't play along. I hate it when people do that crap," she said as she snapped the last gauntlet closed. She let out a breath and fell into a defensive stance with her arms raised in front of her face.

Okay, so we're doing some kind of kickboxing now. I guess her armored arms are for defense and kicks will be her attack. She's not exactly in a practical outfit for that style though. Oh well, I suppose she could pull it off. In my time I've seen people fight in some of the most ridiculous outfits after all.

"This spar will continue until either party yields or I call the match," Chad said in his usual straight-forward manner.

Ichigo and Ophelia remained silent. They kept their focus on each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Begin," Chad said raising a fist.

Ichigo let out a breath as he allowed his Reiatsu to flow through the Gigai. His Reiatsu felt thick and slow, like molasses in a straw, as it flowed through the gentei kaijo seal placed on him before coming here and the Gigai, but the power was there. He knew that any Kidō he performed would be severely weakened, but it would be powerful enough to counter any attack the girl before him would unleash. He looked at the practice sword and bolts of Reiatsu flowing through it. It was changing its form into the familiar long broad blade of Zangetsu. It felt reassuring hefting its familiar weight, even if it was just a physical copy formed by his Reiatsu.

Ophelia released her own Reiatsu in a sudden burst that made Ichigo grimace as a wave of nausea crashed over him. He didn't let her know how it affected him and focused his attention on her. He noticed that the gauntlets were turning from metallic grey to black. Roses suddenly seemed to blossom on each metal plate, blazing white hot. When his body had adjusted to her Reiatsu, he tentatively felt it. He realized that it had the nature of a Hollow lacing through the human Reiatsu.

It's like my own.

With an inhuman leap, Ophelia closed the distance landing in a crouch. The force of the landing caused dust to rise around her. Before she could rise Ichigo rushed forward. He brought the sword down on her. It seemed as though she had made a poor move. She raised her left gauntlet, deflecting the sword with a ting and a burst of sparks as the blade struck the metal. Tendrils of white flame rose from the spikes and wrapped themselves about the blade. She smiled at him. Ichigo frowned not surprised that the Goth had tricks up her sleeves.

Her pigtails struck at Ichigo from the sides. Instincts let him reoil as the dark hair struck like vipers at his face. He pulled his blade free from the graspe of the tendrils of fire before going into Shunpo that carried him away from her. After he came out of Shunpo, Ichigo kept his eyes on Ophelia. She hadn't moved, but gazed at him, her teeth revealed in an ear-splitting grin.

He noticed that the tips of her pigtails were becoming white, and widening even as they split down the side. He blinked in surprise as the pigtails were transformed into a pair of serpent heads topped with two thick horns.

The twin snakes hissed at him, revealing long fangs that dripped with venom. The hairs compressed and hardened until it looked like white leathery horned vipers were growing from her head. As the change reached her head white ooze seeped from her scalp. Twin black horns, like the horns of a viper, grew from the white ooze just above her eyes. The ooze surged over her face and ears, covering most of her head in a blunt scaled mask that went from white to ashy grey as it hardened. The eye slits were the only thing left like a face beneath the horns. Her eyes morphed into twin fiery gold slits amidst a sea of black.

"Freaky isn't it? Are you stunned by the freak, Ginger? Well, let's see how you like her bite!" she snarled, her voice warped by the mouthless mask.

Ophelia vanished in a static of Sonído. Ichigo felt her Reiatsu reappear behind him. He dodged just as one of her braids struck at him, the viper's head biting down where his neck had been only a moment before.

"HEY!" he shouted. "ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"

"No," Ophelia said, her voice a bit too innocent. "My babies, on the other hand…"

Ichigo's eyes widened at what happened next. Bolts of black Reiatsu seemed to flash from the horns on Ophelia's mask and into the vipers, giving them more life. He had never seen any of the Visoreds achieve anything like it. It made him wonder just how much of her Inner Hollow was in control over her and her over it.

"STOP DAYDREAMING, GINGER!"

Ichigo watched the braids grow dramatically as Ophelia's black Goth attire bleached white and all of her exposed skin became ashy grey and began to become covered in scales to match her face and hair.

Zangetsu caught the back of her hand. Sparks flew from the gauntlet as Ophelia came face to face with him. He had the gut feeling she was smirking at him from behind her mask of scales.

"Always keep a monster at arm's lengths, tonto," she hissed. Her golden eyes narrowed.

Her arms are her defense, Ichigo recalled.

He pushed her back. One of her braids struck out at him and Ichigo dodged it. As it returned to its mistress, Ichigo managed to slice through it. No blood came out and Ichigo understood why as he watched the viper head turned back to mere hair drifting to the ground.

He didn't sense the other braid until it whipped around its ankles, tightening into a noose.

"Hey!" Ichigo yelled as he was hauled up into the air and slammed into the nearest rock formation.

The rocks shattered on his impact, kicking up dust and debris. Ophelia growled and caressed the severed tip of her braid while the other retreated from the dust cloud to float above the destruction. The severed end revealed that the braid's core was white bone.

"I didn't think those rocks would break apart like that," she whispered. "Just what is he made of?"

A new viper head sprouted from the core and the frayed hairs resealed the tip around its base. Ophelia stroked the new viper's head fondly with her gauntleted hand, but she kept her eyes on the dust cloud.

Ichigo burst through the swirling dust in shunpō, twisting through the cloud with the force of his passing. Ophelia smiled.

"Typical," she hissed and laughed.

Zangetsu halted mid-strike, nearly a centimeter from the girl's masked brow. Ichigo stood before her, suspended off the ground with his legs and arms arrested by her serpent braids before he could finish the strike. The vipers hissed at him, exposing their fangs before sinking them into the sides of his torso.

Ophelia snickered, but the sound failed as her golden eyes widened in confusion. Her black scaly mask cracked across her face. She let out a cry of pain as the mask burst off her face, blood erupted from her brow and nose. The vipers embedded in Ichigo's sides tore free, ripping flesh and drawing blood. The Captain's strength and speed helped him clear the flailing braids as they retracted around their mistress who had fallen onto her back clutching her face.

Ichigo noted the damage to the Gigai and hoped that Chad could patch it up. If Urahara saw the Gigai's state then he would want an explanation.

"Victory to Ichigo," Chad said.

He leapt down from his perch barely bending his knees on impact with the ground. The braids wrapped around Ophelia as she sat up. Ichigo looked at Ophelia and thought that it looked as though someone had tied her up, but she did not look distressed by the constriction.

Is it her way of hugging herself for comfort?

As he watched her mask grew back. Unlike the previous mask this one had a black line cutting through the scales from her widow's peak to between the eye slits like a scar.

"Arrogance defeated you, Ophelia," Chad said. "You stopped the sword but the force from his incomplete attack was still a strong blow. If you had raised a gauntlet over your face then it would have protected you. Your mask is hardly sufficient defense except against the weakest Zanpakuto. Have you learned more about your weaknesses from this?"

Ophelia nodded, looking at Chad's feet.

As Chad turned his back to Ophelia, Ichigo kept his eyes on the strange girl. The braids merged into one larger snake that started to sway in the air above her. It swelled further and became as thick as her head and turned from ashy grey to pure white. The mask's eye slits sealed shut and a new surge of ooze swallowed her dress and arms, covering her completely in a scaled shell. It was a strange sight as the kneeling woman was covered in the mask substance leaving a huge white snake to coil in on itself. If not for her Reiatsu being stable in its hybrid nature he would have been certain that she was succumbing to her Inner Hollow before his eyes.

"Is that normal?" Ichigo asked as Chad reached him. The stoic giant glanced back as if to verify that they were talking about the same thing.

"For her…yes.

"We call her spiritual state, 'Halves.' Halves are living humans with Hollow abilities that create physical transformations and alter their living physiology and anatomy. Like Hollows they tend to be animal based, and when they go 'Half Empty' they acquire more of the mental traits of the animal.

"Halves like Ophelia, however, their forms are…different. It's not just taking on the mental aspects of the animal, but also the physical. When she calms or that form burns enough Reiatsu, she will revert back to normal in both body and mind." Chad walked past Ichigo towards the exit.

"So…we leave her in a snake?" Ichigo asked glancing back at the lounging reptile.

"The snake is essentially her, so the question is not quite valid, Ichigo. This is something she does to cope and heal. She won't appreciate any comfort beyond what I just gave her right now," Chad said as though plucking the questions from Ichigo's mind. Ichigo followed him.

"Uh…you said that the changes are not just a power up transformation?" Ichgio asked. He looked back to the grumpy-looking snake watching him go.

"Yeah, her pigtails conceal thin prehensile tails that she always has. Thankfully, it's the most dramatic change I've encountered. Most can pass it off as something or other," Chad said as he scratched his beard.

"I hope that it's linked to power. Other than you or a Quincy, I never expected to get that kind of a fight out of the living again. The fight only ended so quickly because she messed up," Ichigo said as he joined his old friend in walking towards the ladder.

"Hmm. Still, I'm impressed. If she had not been so quick and that blow had landed… You've gotten better at reading other people's abilities, Ichigo. Being a Captain has made you sharper," Chad remarked.

Ichigo paused for a moment. He hadn't realized what he almost did. He had planned for that blow to land even as he realized it would likely be blocked. He had assumed that it wasn't as strong as it had been.

Would it have killed her? Would Chad have realized that I had miscalculated and intervened in time?

The thought made Ichigo worry. A Captain needed to know their strength. Even Kenpachi made sure of that, even if it was for the wrong reasons. Ichigo looked down at Zangetsu and saw that it had reverted back into a practice sword.

Yet that still didn't change how he felt. It felt as though Zangetsu was heavier than ever before. And he wondered yet again if he really was worthy of the white Haori that was waiting for him when he was no longer on leave.

Warriors don't necessarily make good leaders, he had often thought when he was offered the post of Captain. He wondered if he made the right decision.

Karakura Town

Yoruichi Shihoin sat across from Kisuke who took another sip of tea. She picked up her china tea cup while taking another finger sandwich with the two remaining fingers of her right hand. She put her cup down and wiped the corner of Kisuke's scarred face with her napkin.

"You're drooling again," she said.

"What do you expect when I'm sitting across from a beautiful woman?" he asked. She smiled and shook her head.

"You're hopeless."

Kisuke looked at the remnant of Yoruichi's right hand. He supposed that she was lucky that Aizen decided to leave her with the hand's thumb and forefinger.

"Have you had any phantom pains lately?" he asked.

"No, but sometimes my left foot itches."

"Even after all of these years, your body still can't get used to not having any actual feet."

"I know, and the new synthetic feet don't work as well for me. 'Queen of Flash' indeed."

"Come on, I'm sure that you can still beat me in a foot race."

"Just like in the old days," Yoruichi said with a smile. Her smile dropped and she sighed. "Aizen really fucked us over, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but we both got off easy." Kisuke and Yoruichi sipped at their tea.

"Even though Aizen's dead he can't truly be forgotten. I hate that he can intrude on our lives like this even after all of this time. I guess he got what he wanted: immortality," Yoruichi said. "Even if it's just his name being cursed by old foes or stories told by mothers to scare their children. 'Don't do that or else Aizen will come get you.' Tch…it's rather sickening that his name's been reduced to that of the bogeyman."

Kisuke didn't say anything. He understood where Yoruichi was coming from, but there were more important matters to discuss than the dead.

"So, is Shinji still at his last location?"

"Nah, he moved to New Londinium. I guess he likes the party scene there more than in Paris."

"I suppose. I'll make sure to see if I can pay him a visit before he decides to move again."

Mexico

Ichigo waited in the small living room. The holo-screen was turned on to the news, showing a line of Restored American tanks, each decorated with an eagle wreathed in flames, at the Independent Republic of Texas border. A line of Texan tanks, decorated with the lone star, were ready to fire if the American tanks moved.

"They're still staring each other down," Chad muttered as he entered the living room. He held a small glass of tequila to Ichigo as the image changed to an anchorwoman clad in a plum-colored sitting behind a news desk. "I thought that you could use something a little stronger than tea."

"Thanks," Ichigo said as he accepted the glass. He looked back at the screen. "How long have they been like that?"

"Ten years. It could be war tomorrow or just as easily another decade of posturing and saber rattling."

Ichigo took a sip of tequila and grimaced. The alcohol stung his throat as it went down and he could feel a buzz starting to come.

"That's strong," he said as he set the glass on the table.

"Glad you like it," Chad said. He picked up the holo-screen control and turned it off.

They sat in silence for a moment before Ichigo sighed.

"I saw Orihime," he said.

"I know."

"She's…she's just not the same as she used to be. I know with all the time that's passed she would change, but still... I mean, for a moment, at the beginning, I thought it was the same Orihime despite that, but then…" Ichigo shook his head. "I knew that what happened that day changed her, but… I just never thought that Aizen's fall would break her like that. I just…"

"It wasn't what happened that day that made her break," Chad said.

"What?"

Chad looked at Ichigo and stood.

"I have something to show you," he said.

Ichigo followed Chad to his home office. The office itself was small and neat. The computer pad on the desk was turned off. A small cactus sat on the edge of the desk. The bare spaces of the walls were decorated with photos of desert landscapes. Chad went to the bookshelf and ran his eyes over the titles. Ichigo looked at the photos and saw one of a sea of white sand under a crescent moon.

"That's Hueco Mundo," he said.

"No," Chad said as he brought out a hard cover between a copy of Ficciones and Cien años de soledad. "That's White Sands in what used to be New Mexico."

"Right," Ichigo said. He looked at the book and his eyes widened. It was Der Aufstieg und Fall der Quincy by Uryu Ishida.

"Uryu wrote this? Our Uryu?"

"Yeah," Chad said. "He gave this to me shortly before his death."

"I haven't seen him around, but…you would know that wouldn't you?"

"It was his request to not be reborn into the Soul Society. Rukia respected his request."

"Rukia? Why wasn't I told? She should have told me."

"I guess he didn't want you to be there and she didn't want to upset you. Open it."

"Wait, how does a book about the Quincy explain why Orihime is the way she is?"

"Open it to the title page."

Ichigo did as Chad said and looked at the photo tucked away in the book. It showed a man with reddish hair in a 49er's jacket, three children, and a woman. The eldest child, a girl with red hair, looked as though she would rather be somewhere else. The second child had dark hair and a tan complexion with the barest hint of a smile. The youngest, an albino girl, was smiling a broad grin under a straw hat. He looked at the woman with her arms around the man, smiling, and recognized her.

"Is…is that…Orihime?"

Chad nodded.

"Then that means that the others are her…"

"They were her family," Chad said.

"Wait, Orihime had a family? I had no idea. Hold on..you said 'were'."

"They lived in Los Angeles."

Ichigo looked at Chad, his brow furrowed in thought. Chad could see that Ichigo was having a hard time connecting the dots.

I suppose he never learned how to think things through, Chad thought.

"I still don't get it. What happened?"

"The Fourth of July, 2026," Chad said.

"Wait, are you telling me that…?" Ichigo looked at the photo and his eyes widened in comprehension.

Denver, Zone 2, Restored America

Orihime Inoue made her way through the crowds of revelers preparing to celebrate the end of Patriot Week. She decided to go against her child's guise and looked more like her original form than usual. She looked like a thirty-something buxom blonde woman wearing a respectable if not stand-out outfit of khaki pants with a shirt of subdued "patriotism". Despite the looks she was drawing from most of the men and some of the women she passed she felt even more like a ghost than usual.

The world has moved on and yet much of my soul has not, she observed with the resignation that had long gathered dust.

She looked at the flags being waved. Most were the flags of Restored America: a bald eagle, wreathed in flames, in the center of a pentagon formed by five gold stars on a black field. Others were waving the old stars and stripes of pre-downfall America. Orihime felt a wave of nostalgia on seeing the old flag of red, white, and blue that had been replaced with gold, black, and red.

The "Blackshirts" of the Voluntary Militia of Public Security were out in force, cold eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of civil disobedience. The insult that the name "Blackshirt" had been intended had faded over the decades as the state-sanctioned thugs made it their own and made sure that it was a name to be feared once again. Their expandable batons were out and ready to take down any who was likely to cause trouble. The squad commanders were marked by the gold eagle pins on their black berets and the collars of their uniform jackets as well as the riot pistols at their side that would unleash a non-lethal charge when fired. This had long since ceased to be a land where the trappings of tyranny were hidden with more than a token effort. It depressed Orihime to see how such things as night raids and seeing the Blackshirts patrol the streets day and night had become matters of normalcy to the people.

She was not surprised to see that the VMPS and NSF, National Security Force, recruiters were also out in greater numbers than usual. Patriot Week was the best time of the year to sign up new recruits after all. They were setting up posters showing men clad in black and silver uniforms marching with the flag of Restored America waving in the background. Each proclaiming: "CITIZENSHIP IS NOT A RIGHT: IT'S A PRIVILEGE. JOIN YOUR LOCAL MILITIA TODAY."

Orihime grimaced at the posers. Her adopted country was gone, killed long ago. What these people claimed to have resurrected they had merely desecrated.

As she looked away from the wall her eyes went to a large mural. It showed The General looking out over ruins of New York City. The charred remains of the broken Statue of Liberty was in the foreground with rays of sunlight breaking through the grey storm clouds. The caption was stark and to the point: "KEEP WATCH AND NEVER FORGET THE FOURTH OF JULY."

How could I forget? It was the day I realized that it was futile to try to live a normal life, Orihime thought with a touch of anger. It was as though the poster or the man it depicted were addressing her personally instead of the entire nation.

She thought that she had gotten over her life before July 4, 2026, but Ichigo's visit had stirred so many memories and emotions that it caused a maelstrom to rise. Those internal winds had unearthed feelings that she had thought cast off but had simply been buried, waiting to emerge once more.

What was I thinking letting Ichigo find me? I swore that I would have nothing more to do with the Soul Society, and he's a part of it now. Our time as friends is ancient history, a mere few years in lifetimes spanning centuries. So why did I let the stranger from the past disturb my present?

Orihime clenched her hand into a fist and could feel the nails biting into her palm trying to draw blood. She closed her cat-like green eyes and inhaled. Her mind cleared.

I let him find me because I missed him, she thought. I wanted to see him again. I thought that there might still be a chance that he could be mine, and that my eternity would not have to be a lonely journey. Just another fantasy that I thought I had outgrown. I should have realized that, like all my other hopes, it was futile.

Ulquiorra was right. There is no point to cling to hope.

Orihime continued her way through the crowd as it made its way to the specified viewing areas for the March of Patriots. The throng was a collection of individuals becoming a single mass, united in patriotic fervor. She looked at them with disgust.

What good little sheep these descendants of America are: obeying instructions barked by the wolves in their midst.

Advertisements floated in the air, her childhood's sci-fi wonder brought to life as a glorified tool for televised propaganda. Images of men, women, and even children clad in the uniforms of the Militia and NSF were telling the crowd, "I AM A CITIZEN." Then came the floating image of a young girl clad in the military fatigues of a cadet and with a blank expression on her face asking, "ARE YOU?" Then came the recruiting logo: "SERVICE IS CITIZENSHIP" surrounding an eagle wreathed by a laurel of olive branches with two hands joined in a handshake where the laurels met, the official emblem of the Department of Citizen-Civilian Relations.

It was a sight worthy of a Philip K. Dick novel.

"Just what we need, another crappy recruiting video," Orihime muttered, making sure that none of the Blackshirts could hear. They could not actually threaten her, but it would be annoying to have to deal with an incident and be blacklisted.

The recruiting video was now replaced with projections of National Security Forces marching down the central street of Steadfast, which had once been Milwaukee. The uniforms of black and silver were designed to impress and radiate a sense of military prowess. The officer uniforms of white and gold were designed to befit their high social rank.

The crowds cheered as fireworks began to be launched into the night sky, signaling the beginning of the March of Patriots. The sound of "Yankee Doodle" began as three people: a young boy who looked to be twelve, an old man, and a middle-aged man were spotted leading a procession of men dressed in the blue and white uniforms of the American Revolution came marching down the street. The boy and the old man were playing drums strapped around the back of their necks while the middle aged man played the fife. Behind them Old Glory fluttered in an artificial wind, displaying its thirteen stars and stripes proudly.

Shit, it's the "Spirit of '76" come to life, Orihime thought.

A war that was proudly heralded as a grand revolt against tyranny in the name of democracy and freedom was turned into a piece of pageantry for a dictator and his followers. The joke was so stale that she could neither find it amusing or worth getting annoyed at any more.

Orihime knew that after the men clad in the uniforms of the American Revolution and the War of 1812 passed it would be men clad in the Union Blue of the Second Revolution, formerly the Civil War, marching to "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". Then there would be members of the National Defense Force allotted to don the uniforms of the other major wars that America took part in: the Great World War of 1914 to 1945, Korea, Vietnam, and the Gulf Wars. After them was the main force, some dressed in the black and purple of Pax Americana and the majority clad in the black and silver of the Third Revolution.

"CITIZENS AND CIVILIANS, PLEASE RESPECT THE NATIONAL ANTHEM!" a voice blared from the loudspeakers.

The crowd put their right hands over their hearts before holding them out in the Bellamy salute as the tune of the "Chant du Départ" sounded and the image of The General, dressed in his black and gold uniform covered with military decorations, standing in front of the Capitol and saluting the passing soldiers in Steadfast floated in the night sky. It was time for the citizens clad in black and silver to make their appearance.

They came like a dark river, their silver lining were like the froth of the waves. The people around her cheered and clapped. Some held out their personal copies of The General's "Black Book", the manifesto that he wrote while in exile in Canada titled Our Strife: Re-Forging America. Some even chanted "USA, USA, USA," and Orihime wondered how that mindless chant managed to survive a century of chaos and warring city-states.

As she watched the river of black and silver uniforms pass she allowed herself to be swept away in the currents that run through the river of memory.

Las Noches, The Winter War

Orihime watched in surprise as Ulquiorra made his way out of the prison that Grimmjow forced him into through Caja Negación. Grimmjow said that Ulquiorra would only be imprisoned for a few hours before he could free himself, but she had thought that he would come out from where he had been imprisoned, not in the Throne Room.

Ulquiorra's poison-green eyes fell on her. He turned and walked in her direction. Orihime did her best to resist the urge to retreat from him. She wanted to show him that she was not afraid of him, but her body stiffened, betraying her fear. He obviously noticed.

"Are you afraid, Little Girl?" he asked in his monotonous tone. Orihime did not answer. Her heart beat faster in her chest and she had to swallow the spit that had built up in her mouth. "Lord Aizen no longer has any need for you. You no longer have any protection from harm. It's over. You will die here, alone, with no one by your side. I want to know." Ulquiorra was now standing in front of her, looking into her eyes with his cold gaze, as though piercing her very soul. "Are you afraid, Little Girl?"

Am I afraid? The question raced through Orihime's mind. She didn't know how to respond to that. In some ways she was afraid. She was afraid for herself and for her friends who had been through the fire because she had come here. She thought that she was keeping them safe, but instead they had rushed into greater danger. Rukia and Chad had nearly been killed and Ichigo…

Why? Why did you come to save me? You should have just stayed in Karakura Town? I came here to keep you safe. Why must you insist on playing the hero when I don't want you to?

She could not understand why she was feeling this animosity towards Ichigo. She loved Ichigo. She had dreamed of him coming to her rescue. Why should Ichigo riding in like her knight in shining armor to rescue her fill her with such rancor?

It's because I didn't need him to rescue me, she thought. He got himself killed for my sake, and I never wanted that to happen. I don't need someone to die for me, especially when I made the choice to come here myself.

She returned Ulquiorra's gaze. He had told her that she should hate her friends for coming here only to be slaughtered, and she would deny him how she really thought. If she told him, then Ulquiorra would consider it a victory and she would deny him the satisfaction. Instead, she would listen to her heart. Her heart told her that she wanted Ichigo to risk his life for her because it meant that he did love her on some level. That was all that really mattered to her. If she was to be victorious over Ulquiorra then she would have to be honest with herself.

"I'm not afraid."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened slightly. He was obviously surprised by her answer. Orihime felt renewed strength and courage rise in her to where she had to resist the urge to smile.

"My friends will come and save me. My heart is already with them."

Ulquiorra didn't say anything, and Orihime thought that she had won.

"Nonsense," Ulquiorra said. "Do you honestly believe that your friends can save you?"

"I do. When I first heard they came to save me, I felt…"

She paused as she remembered Ulquiorra coming into her room to let her know. She realized that her rancor had come from the harm that her friends suffered at the hands of the Arrancars. Yet that had not been her initial emotion. What she had felt at first was how she truly felt.

I must be honest with myself.

"I felt a little happy…but I felt terribly sad too. I came here so that they wouldn't get hurt. Why did they come? Don't they understand I wanted to keep them safe?

"Then…when I felt Rukia fall and when I saw Ichigo fight, I realized that I was wrong. I didn't just want Ichigo to be safe. I just wanted everybody to be safe. When I realized that, I understood why they did it. They feel the same way that I do. If any of my friends disappeared then I would do whatever it took to get them back."

Ulquiorra looked at her and shook his head.

"Friends," he whispered. "What good are they? It may be true that they will move heaven and earth to ensure your safety now. However, there will come a time when you may need them only to find that they will not be there. There will come a time when you can rely on no one but yourself. In the end, friends will always betray you. The sooner you realize that the easier the pain will be to bear when it comes."

"You're wrong," Orihime said, fear rising again. "Friends never abandon each other. They're always there when you need support. Their coming here proves it. They are the best friends I could ever hope for.

"Maybe I don't feel exactly the way they do, but I do believe that it's possible to care for others and to put your heart in sync with their own. To me that's what it means to have one heart."

"'Heart'? I find it intriguing that you humans use that word as though it was nothing more than something that you could hold in the palm of your hand." He raised his pale left hand and brought it over his left eye. "My eyes see everything. There is nothing that can hide from my gaze. I always believed that what cannot be perceived by the senses does not exist." He lowered his left hand back to his side.

"You use the term 'Heart,' but what do you mean by that?" He held out his right hand and pointed at Orihime's chest. "If I was to tear open your chest, would I see something other than the physical muscle that keeps you alive by pumping blood throughout your body?" He raised his hand to the level of her eyes. "Perhaps I would see this 'Heart' if I were to crush your skull."

Orihime's eyes widened. She knew that Ulquiorra had the power over her life and death in his hands.

Please, she thought. Please, Ichigo, save me.

The floor beneath them began to quake and Orihime thought that her prayer had been answered. She could feel the tremendous Spiritual Pressure coming towards them and recognized it. Ulquiorra's eyes widened in surprise.

Then he came, bursting through the floor. Ichigo had come to save her as she knew he would.

Yet, the day that Ulquiorra's words proved to be correct came when annihilation rushed towards her and there was no one to save her but herself.

Denver, Zone 2

Orihime brought herself out of the memory. The black and silver river was nearing the end, or perhaps it was a serpent of humanity. Orihime shivered when she saw the trucks coming. There were about fifteen trucks, each piled high with books, works of art, statues, and other items that were deemed to be "Un-Patriotic" by the Committee for a Stronger Society. A line of civilian volunteers followed holding torches and banners high. Each wore a white armband with the CSS's emblem: a golden torch with a golden eagle wreathed in flames at the top surrounded by the words, "Pura Fortis Societas". The head of the Committee's Denver branch rode in the lead truck, waving to the crowds with a smile on her narrow face. Orihime was glad not to be able to see into her eyes otherwise she was afraid that she would see the fires of patriotic fanaticism burning in them.

Once upon a time, we had a love affair with fire. A shudder ran up her spine at the thought.

She watched as the trucks continued to their final destination: Memorial Square in front of the capitol building. The images floating in the air showed Memorial Plaza, surrounded by a sea of people, many holding torches and others were waiting with contraband materials at hand. She saw other projected images from various celebrations showing CSS trucks laden with contraband with lines of volunteers following, prepared to feed the flames. Their steps merged with the patriotic marching songs, a choreography fit for a society gone insane.

When the last trucks reached the center of Memorial Plaza, the images projected for the crowd changed. The holo-screens showed The General, standing in front of Restored America's flag flanked by the upside down American flag with five stars in the blue field that the Pax Americana Party used to his left and Old Glory to his right. He was clad in a crisp black uniform with gold trim. Gold eagles were pinned on his lapels.

His once chiseled face was beginning to sag with heavy jowls and she could tell that his muscles were beginning to turn to fat. His once black hair was mostly grey. Despite the betrayal of age, he still maintained an aura of authority that seemed to radiate from the holo-screen. His cold grey eyes seemed to stare directly into a person's soul in judgment.

"TONIGHT," his image began. "WE REMEMBER THE PATRIOTS WHO GAVE THEIR LIVES IN THE HOPES OF RESTORING THE ONCE GREAT UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. WE REMEMBER THE SACRIFICE THEY MADE ON THE ALTAR OF LIBERTY. WE REMEMBER THE BLOOD SPILLED TO UNLEASH THE SHACKLES PUT ON US BY THE PAX AMERICANA OLIGARCHY.

"WE MUST ALSO REMEMBER THE FIRES THAT DEVOURED THE OLD UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. WE REMEMBER THE ONCE GREAT CITIES OF BOSTON, PHILADELPHIA, WASHINGTON D.C., CHICAGO, DETROIT, DALLAS, HOUSTON, LAS VEGAS, SEATTLE, PORTLAND, SAN FRANCISCO, AND LOS ANGELES. THE IMPERIAL LAUREL OF THAT ONCE GREAT NATION BECAME NOTHING BUT ASHES THAT WERE BLOWN AWAY IN THE WINDS OF CHAOS.

"WHAS JULY FOURTH, 2026 A TRAGEDY? WAS IT A DEATH KNELL FOR OUR ONCE GREAT NATION THAT BECAME WEAK FROM THE INFESTATION OF ARROGANCE AND GLUTTONY AND GREED AND COMPLACENCY?"

The General paused and then raised a fist.

"IT WAS NOT!

"IT WAS AN OPPORTUNITY FOR US TO REGAIN THE MIGHT THAT WE LOST IN THE DECADES OF DECADENCE AND IMMORALITY. IT WAS THE FORGE IN WHICH THE IRON IS MADE STRONGER. IT WAS THE FIRE NECESSARY TO DESTROY THE WEAKNESS THAT SEEPED INTO OUR ONCE GREAT NATION.

"MY FELLOW PATRIOTS, WE HAVE EMERGED FROM THAT FIRE STRONGER AND MORE PURE THAN BEFORE.

"WE HAVE BECOME THE IRON FIST THAT OUR FOREFATHERS WANTED US TO BECOME. HOWEVER, IRON CAN RUST. AND SO WE OFFER TO THE CLEANSING FIRES THE IMPURITIES THAT WOULD CORRUPT OUR NATION.

"WE CLEANSE OURSELVES OF IMMORALITY. WE CLEANSE OURSELVES OF ANY IDEOLOGY THAT WOULD DARE SUBVERT WHO WE ARE AND OUR GREATNESS. WE CLEANSE OURSELVES OF ALL WEAKNESS. WE CLEANSE OURSELVES WITH FIRE.

"LET THE CLEANSING BEGIN!"

The crowd cheered as the pounding of drums and the blaring of trumpets came in a marching song. Soldiers and citizens came forward with lit torches. The contraband materials that were once piled in the back of trucks were being piled in the center of the plaza.

Books explaining the system of Social-Capitalism, a hybrid merging the strengths of Socialism and Capitalism into a single economic and political system, were thrown on top of paintings displaying Restored America in a negative light or the Eurasian Confederation and Imperial Commonwealth in a favorable light. Statues of the Buddha were thrown onto the pile with copies of the writings of Confucius and Karl Marx. Pages were torn out of the holy texts deemed to be "Un-American" by the CSS: the Bhagavad-Gita, the Quran, the philosophies of Mao Tze and Laozi and Nietzsche, the scientific writings of Darwin and Dawkins and Sagan, and any other texts that would be seen as causing people to question The General's regime or the religious right's firm hold on social morality.

George Orwell would burn alongside Ayn Rand. The works of theists would feed the same fires as those by atheists. Works of liberals and conservatives and middle-of-the-road authors, political and economic theorists, and artists would become undistinguishable of one another as they were kissed and embraced by the flames.

When the materials were gathered into the center and the torches surrounded it, then came the greatest abomination. The sound of "Give Me a Clean Heart" came over the loudspeakers. Some in the crowd began to sing along, but the majority didn't. Instead they began to chant, "Burn, burn, burn, burn."

When the torches touched the pile, Orihime closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the flames rise to devour those beautiful things that were deemed ugly by this militaristic and self-righteous society. It would bring back too many memories. It would remind her of the smell of charring flesh and burning houses as bands of marauders like the Army of Excellence or the Iron Cross Brigade or God's Children went on their rampage across a scarred land. It would remind her of Karakura Town burning and Aizen's laughter as he and his followers wrought destruction.

Yet, none of those memories was the worst. The worst was her memory of July 4, 2026. It was the day when she lost the last fragments of hope for living an ordinary life away from the Soul Society's grasp.

A cheer erupted and Orihime knew that the flames were beginning to devour that which was deemed "abnormal" in this façade of American society. Someone jostled her from behind and she staggered forward. She didn't know how her eyes became open, but she found herself looking at the holo-screen.

Flames. All was the feeding fire, purifying America while destroying it. A nation that had a love affair with fire was destined to be consumed by it. America was always a nation obsessed with fire, whether they recognized it for what it was or not.

"Burn, burn, burn," the crowd chanted.

Orihime found herself looking into the flames. Her life had been filled with fire. It had forged her from a girl filled with hopes and dreams to what she was now. Her life was a wasteland of shattered dreams with nothing living except the all-consuming fire fueled by memory.

Burn…

Burn…

Burn…

Karakura Town, The Second Aizen War

Orihime looked in horror at the aftermath of Isshin's attack. Urahara's shop and the buildings around it were reduced to piles of rubble due to the force of the Kido. Isshin looked with wide eyes at the figure still standing among the ruins as his Reishi became too unstable to sustain his spiritual body. Particles of decaying Reishi began to fall away, floating in the wind like ashes.

"No," Isshin whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing.

He had used the most powerful of all Hado techniques, Kami no Sōgi Kasō. Kisuke had warned him about the consequences about using it. Kami no Sōgi Kasō required a great amount of Reiatsu to be effective that it caused the caster's Reishi to become unstable to the point that it would turn on itself. As a result, it was recognized as a death sentence for those who performed it as well as a death sentence for the first spiritual entity it touched. Isshin had been willing to make that sacrifice if it meant keeping his two remaining children safe.

Yet, it failed. The Hogyoku embedded in Aizen's chest had cast a spiritual shield that took the full strength of the Hado.

"Such a shame," Aizen said in his silky voice. His eyes glittered with maniacal glee. "It appears that your sacrifice was for naught."

Isshin fell to his knees. The ashes of destroyed Reishi fell away in greater amounts.

"I'm…sorry…Masaki," Isshin whispered. He lowered his head in shame and the ashes of Reishi fell like dark snow to the ground. "I…failed."

Soon there was nothing left of Isshin Kurosaki, save for the dark ashes of Reishi that blew away in the wind. Orihime struggled to get up, but she was still weak from the Kido's blast wave.

Aizen looked around, taking in the devestation around him. He looked to where Kisuke leaned against the remains of a concrete wall, still holding to Benehime's hilt, the remnants of the shattered blade glittered in the flames on the ground. The right side of Urahara's face had been burned to the point that it would never truly heal. Aizen heard someone struggling for breath. He turned and smiled.

Ichigo Kurosaki lay on the ground, his body convulsing as though he was having a severe seizure. His hands clawed at his chest and throat as though desperate for breath. His eyes were wide and looked to be near to falling out of their sockets. Zangetsu lay forgotten beside him.

"Oh, well hello again, Ichigo Kurosaki," Aizen said. "I didn't realize that you were here until now. It's such a shame that your father isn't here to see you like this." Aizen licked his lips with his blackened tongue. "I see that, once again, you failed to heed the advice of your betters. You decided to rush into battle, thinking that you could take me out with a side attack. Too bad that you got caught in that blast without anything to shield you."

Aizen approached Ichigo who was as helpless as a fish out of water. He put one dirty and blood-stained foot on Ichigo's chest. Aizen leaned in close and released a small amount of Reiatsu. Ichigo recoiled, his convulsions became even greater. Ichigo turned his head and vomited. The sight made Aizen sneer in disgust.

"Pathetic," he snarled. "I knew that you would never be able to defeat me in fair combat, but seeing you like this is just sad." He looked towards Urahara and smiled. "Tut, tut, tut, Kisuke Urahara, I'm so disappointed in you. You put too much faith in this boy and now he's completely useless to you. Will you cast him aside as you've done before?"

"Ichigo," Orihime whispered.

"Ah well, I suppose the time has come…" Aizen began. Orihime watched in horror as two slits formed in the skin above and below the Hogyoku, which was now blazing with a great white light. The flesh rippled before opening into a great mouth that ran from Aizen's throat to his waist. The Hogyoku hung suspended by cords of muscle. Muscular tentacles writhed in the mough and Orihime saw that each tentacle ended in a clawed hand. "…to claim you for my own, Ichigo Kurosaki."

The tentacles rushed out of the mouth in Aizen's torso. They wrapped themselves around Ichigo's convulsing body. The hands dug their talons deep into Ichigo, drawing blood. They lifted him in the air and began to drag him into the gaping mouth.

Aizen then noticed a beam of light rushing towards the tentacles. He watched in surprise as the tentacles were severed, black blood gushed from the maimed tentacles as they rushed back into Aizen's body to regenerate. Ichigo fell to the ground with a thud.

Raising an eyebrow Aizen turned to follow the beam of light as it returned to its source. The mouth bisecting his torso closed leaving only a seam as evidence of its existence. He then noticed Orihime lying on the ground with one hand stretched out. Tsubaki returned to its hairpin.

"Oh…Miss Inoue," Aizen said, clearly pleased. "I'm surprised to see that you're still here. I was afraid that you may have run away. I thank you for saving me the trouble of having to look for you."

"Aizen," Orihime gasped as she struggled to her feet.

She felt rage build within her. She looked around at the bodies littering the ground. She turned to Urahara, still leaning against the concrete wall, who looked as though he would faint at any minute. Tessai moaned in agony on the ground, his left arm and leg looked as though the bones had been completely shattered. Ururu wept as she shook Jinta's body as though hoping she could wake him up despite the gaping hole in his chest. Then Orihime saw that Tatsuki was trying to move. She returned her attention to Aizen.

"Why?" she asked. "Why are you glad to see that I'm still here?"

"I suppose that you have a right to know," Aizen said. He looked at Ichigo. "You and Ichigo Kurosaki were my back-up plan in case I was unable to create the Oken."

"Back-up plan?" Orihime asked. "Back-up plan to what?"

"To complete my perfection," Aizen said. "Did you really think that I wasn't involved with the events that helped shape you and Ichigo into the people you are today? The two of you have the aspects that I shaped you to personify. Urahara helped in the process, hoping that it would backfire on me.

"Alas, yet again my intellect surpasses that of my mentor and creator." Aizen looked over to Kisuke who looked at Orihime in fear and shame.

"Ichigo has indeed come to personify the violent passion and destruction that corrupted his mother when she underwent Hollowfication. As such, once he has become one with me then that aspect of me will be complete. Instead of being my destroyer, he shall become my strength.

"Likewise, you have long since become what I meant you to be. Like my female Espada you possess great power that is hindered by Altruism. However, what was a bad habit for them is your life-defining vice. You are preservation and regeneration. You are a force that can only react and seek a return to similarity and docility. You are the perfect balance to Ichigo in me.

"The three of us will form a new trinity that will create an even greater God. Together, we can reshape all of the worlds in our image. We can end all pain and suffering. We can ensure that the living can be reunited with their loved ones, never to be separated again. Together, we can make all dreams and wishes come true. All that you have to do is submit to me.

"If you do then I will make your dreams a part of my own. I will spare the few survivors in this town so that they will witness…"

"No," Orihime said.

"What was that?" Aizen asked.

"I said, 'No'. I will not submit to you."

"Oh, but you will," Aizen said. "Don't you understand that I've already won?"

"You haven't won," Orihime said.

Aizen sighed and looked at her as though he was looking at a small child.

"Is that so? Tell me, who is the hero who will save the day? Isshin? You must have seen him destroy himself in an attempt to destroy me only to fail and while still stained with his own daughter's abolished soul. The Gotei? They're burning in a plague of their own might thanks to my followers and my Bankai. Urahara? He's hours from being in any shape to fight. Ichigo? He's unable to do anything but act like a fish out of water. You?" Aizen's smile widened and he walked towards her. "Come now, Little Girl, it's time to stop pretending. We both know that the only thing that you're good for is healing and screaming for your dear Ichigo to come and save you. You're helpless without your friends.

"We both know that you can't fight any more than Ichigo can resist fighting. You are what I made you to be. How do you think your powers awoke? It was when you willingly allowed your own brother to attack you in order to save Ichigo. But who sent the Hollows to turn your brother into one of their ilk? I did. I knew that it would take you being attacked by someone who truly loved you and whom you loved in return to awaken your potential.

"You could defeat a Hollow as long as you were ignorant that a person was under the mask. You showed that when you defeated Numb Chandelier. But even faced with a weak savage like Yammy, you couldn't draw a drop of blood; not even to defend your dearest friends."

Orihime listened. She felt confused, unable to truly comprehend what Aizen was telling her.

Don't try to understand it, a voice whispered in her mind. She recognized that voice.

Tsubaki? What are you…?

Shut up and listen, girl, Tsubaki said. He's only partially right. You're mostly focused on healing and protecting, but if that's all there is to you then why am I here? Why am I as much a part of you as the others? My job is to destroy while theirs' is to protect and heal.

I don't…I don't know.

If you truly wish to unleash me then you must come to understand why I am here.

Orihime thought about it. She looked around at the destruction that Aizen had caused and engineered to satisfy his own vengeance. She felt rage rise in her and she understood.

Even flowers can kill. All I have to do is want to kill.

She focused on her rage, allowing it to blossom in her like some poisonous flower. She would have to turn despair and grief into pure hatred, into an uncompromising desire to kill. She focused on Aizen, directing all of her hate at him. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks. Never before had she felt so much hatred and she never realized just how much it hurt.

"I know you better than you know yourself, Orihime Inoue," Aizen continued. "You will always suffer and try to hold on to any fleeting shards of happiness even as they cut you. However, if you submit then I will grant you the bliss of nirvana by becoming an unaware component of the new God of all realms.

"What do you say?" Aizen asked and held out a hand towards her. "Do you wish to become one with God? Do you wish to come home, where you belong?"

Weeping, Orihime met his eyes. Aizen's smile slipped.

"Your hands are drenched with blood, so much blood," Orihime said. "I don't know who it started with. I don't care if you were born to rule out of some misguided arrogance of Urahara san. I don't even care if the Throne of Heaven is empty or if God is just a rotting corpse. Any being that should shed so much blood and not regret it…. It's better for there to be no god than have a god that doesn't weep for the blood it has spilled.

"So, no, Aizen, I will not become 'One with God' if that God is you."

Aizen bared his teeth at her.

"This grows tedious," he said. "You will become one with me." The mouth bisecting his torso opened again. The tentacles writhed out of it, the hands opening and closing with eagerness. "Now, time to sleep."

The tentacles shot out at her. Orihime raised her hands to the side of her head.

"Santen Kesshun, I Reject!" she shouted.

Three beams of light flew out in front of her, forming a shield of gold light. The hands of the tentacles collided with the shield and began to scratch at it, trying to get at her. Aizen released a pulse of Reiatsu into the tentacles, but the shield held.

"It's stronger than before," he noted with a small scowl. "That's impossible."

"You're right," Orihime said. "I am weak. I couldn't kill to save my own life or even my friends' lives knowing that I was going to kill a person. That's why I'm not you. I regret what you have done enough for the both of us. I know that you will be even worse if you ever sit on the Throne of the Gods.

"I may have been able to forgive Ulquiorra. I may have even been able to forgive that Hollow that hurt Tatsuki. But I will never forgive you. You are the only one whom I will never regret killing."

"You…kill me?" Aizen asked, shocked by her words. Then he laughed. "Oh, you stupid little girl, you can't kill me. I'm omnipotent! I'm immortal! I'M GOD!"

"That's where you're wrong," Orihime said. Aizen fell silent. "You're not immortal. The only thing that is keeping you alive is the Hogyoku. In exchange for prolonging your life and keeping you from destruction, it's taking something far more important away from you. It's eating your humanity.

"I suppose I could forgive you if you didn't realize what it was doing, but you did. You knew what you would be giving up and you still chose the Hogyoku. That's why I can never forgive you."

Orihime held up the palms of her hands out in front of her. She focused all of her hatred into her hands.

"Little Girl," Aizen said. His condescending smile and tone of voice made it seem as though he was reprimanding a small child. "That won't do any good."

The tentacles began to sway, waiting for her to let the shield down.

"I reject you, now and always, Souske Aizen," Orihime said.

Her shield of Reishi went down and Tsuabiki flew from her hair pin, but this time the golden light that normally followed in its wake was not there. This time, Tsubaki was followed by pure darkness.

"Do you really think that little gnat will do anything? If it couldn't do anything against Yammy then it surely won't do…"

Tsubaki cut through the tentacles, and Aizen screamed in pain. He watched in horror as the severed parts of the tentacles vanished in tendrils of black mist.

"NOOO!" Aizen shouted. He beat at the fairy with his left hand. Tsubaki cut through his wrist. Aizen screamed as his severed hand vanished in an explosion of black mist. Never before had he encountered such destruction to his very being and it frightened him. He grabbed the bleeding stump and watched Tsubaki. When he saw that Tsubaki trailed darkness in his wake, Aizen understood. He looked at Orihime in horror.

"That's the Nothingness," he said. "How is it possible? How can you be cutting the very fabric of creation itself?"

Orihime looked at him, hatred blazed in her eyes as Tsubaki flew in circles in front of her outstretched palms.

"I didn't truly understand my powers until now. Tsubaki was an enigma to me because he destroyed what he touched. Then I remembered about what you said when I went to Hueco Mundo. You said that my powers could defy Divine Law."

Aizen suddenly remembered.

"I only said that to give Ulquiorra a reason for having fetched you. He did what I commanded, but I knew that he would eventually wish an explanation," Aizen said.

"You may have said it as a lie, but it was the truth," Orihime said. "You only focused on Ichigo because you felt that his destructive and violent nature would be useful to you. However, you ignored me because you saw me as weak. Your mouth wouldn't have absorbed me. It would have destroyed me."

"NO! You would have been absorbed into me. You would become one with…"

"NO MORE LIES, AIZEN!" Orihime shouted. "There's no room for mercy in you, only destruction. Your big mouth told me that much. 'I'm omnipotent,' you said, and omnipotence has no room for weakness."

Aizen looked at his hand, expecting it to regenerate. Instead, he only looked at bleeding stump.

"I always wondered what you meant by 'Divine Law.' Now, I do. I can bring death with life setting the very cycle of souls in reverse. You are immortal, but I can reject the very idea of you existing in the first place. However, I know that there's one thing more dangerous than you. It's the root of all this horror." Her focus went to the Hogyoku. "That will be the thing that I will reject."

"NOOOOOO!" Aizen shouted. He backed away, the mouth closing, but the Hogyoku was still vulnerable. He poured his Reiatsu into it and the Hogyoku began to blaze.

"Tsubaki," Orihime said. Her voice was barely audible and Aizen became even more afraid. "…negate."

With joyous laughter Tsubaki surged forth cleaving reality in his wake.

"NO! I HAVE COME TOO FAR TO BE STOPPED BY A WORTHLESS BITCH WHO PINES FOR FOOLS!" Aizen screamed. He dodged Tsubaki and watched as it returned to its starting position. "I will not let a weak bitch get the best of me," he snarled. He saw Tsubaki coming at him again.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed. He leaned down, letting Tsubaki fly over him, feeling the coldness of the Nothingness before creation reaffirmed itself. He grabbed Tatsuki by the nape of her neck with his remaining hand. Tatsuki moaned as he lifted her in the air in front of him like a shield.

"CALL IT OFF!" Aizen shrieked. "CALL IT OFF!"

Tatsuki's eyes opened and she saw Orihime. She saw the hate burning in her eyes. She wasn't fully aware of what was going on.

"Or—i—hime?" Tatsuki moaned.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Aizen screamed as Tsubaki burst its way through Tatsuki's chest.

Tsubaki struck the Hogyoku's shield with such force that Aizen was sent flying backwards. Tatsuki slipped from the would-be god's grip, falling limply to the burning ground, her punctured plus rolled clear just as the corpse caught fire. The Chain of Fate was partially broken from Tsubaki's devastating blow.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Aizen screamed as Tsubaki continued to try to penetrate the Hogyoku's shield. "IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Despite Aizen's animal cries, despite Tatsuki's corpse lying right in front of her, despite Ichigo's renewed convulsions, Orihime kept her focus on Tsubaki. The Hogyoku was fighting back, trying to reaffirm its shield to drive away the Nothingness. It did not want to be destroyed. It was taking Aizen's Reiatsu for itself, draining him of his very essence, to protect its very existence. Tsubaki continued to push against the shield, slowly penetrating it. Threads of Nothingness seeped into the shield to negate its existence. The Hogyoku pushed back, sending Aizen into the air as though he was nothing but a marionette on strings.

There was a cracking sound coming from the Hogyoku as it pushed the boundaries of how much it could take. The amount of power it had used to resist Isshin's final Hado proved to be too much. The shield of Reiatsu shattered and Tsubaki crashed into the Hogyoku.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Aizen screamed as the Hogyoku shattered.

He watched as the shards from the shattered Hogyoku vanished into black mist. Black blood burst from Aizen's chest. The area where the Hogyoku had been was now starting to crumble away like drying sand from a sand castle.

Tsubaki flew back to Orihime and returned to its position. She fell to her knees weakened from the effort it took for her to destroy the Hogyoku. She looked up and saw Tatsuki's plus, lying on the ground.

"No," she whispered. "No…no…no…TATSUKI!" she screamed. She scrambled to where Tatsuki lay and put her hands on the plus. "TATSUKI!" she screamed again. Tears flowed from her as realization of what she had done began to sink in.

Kisuke staggered towards her and looked at Aizen's dying body. Tears came to his eyes and he lowered his face.

"It is finished," he whispered.

"IT'S NOT FINISHED!" Aizen shouted.

With a wary sigh, Urahara turned away from the wounded and approached the fallen foe. He saw that, aside from the gaping hole where the Hogyoku had been, Aizen's skin was taking on the sickly greenish-yellow hue that new corpses usually took on.

"This is not her oblivion! Her rejection only destroyed my prize, but not me! I CAN ENDURE THIS!" Aizen cried as he pressed his withering right hand to his chest.

Urahara looked down on Aizen. His eyes were filled with sorrow.

"No, you can't, Souske," Urahara said. Aizen looked up at him, eyes wide with confusion, anger, and fear.

"Orihime was right. You sacrificed your humanity to the Hogyoku. You traded the very pillars of your soul for gaining stronger Reiatsu and greater abilities. You linked yourself to the Hogyoku to where it still fed you despite being removed from your possession. Now it's gone, as though it had never existed, and you gave too much of yourself to its hunger. You are now more empty than even the most miserable Hollow," Urahara said. His voice was calm, but there was also a hint of sadness.

"But my Reiatsu," Aizen began and then noticed that his remaining hand no longer had any real shape to it. His eyes widened and he looked at Urahara. "No…this…this can't be happening. My Reiatsu is strong enough to preserve me, even without the Hogyoku. Why isn't it?"

"It was something that even I didn't think was possible," Urahara said. "The Hogyoku became selfish in the end. It took more than it had even given you in order to survive. As a result you became a spiritual negative, an imaginary number whose existence cannot be verified."

"No," Aizen snarled. "That can't be. Why am I not dissipating in vapor?"

"The reason is that your very negative existence is being ground into less than dust by the very weight of positive existence around you. It is as inevitable as two plus negative three equaling negative one.

"I am sorry that I made you, Aizen. I am sorry for your own sake as well as for everyone else. Most of all, I am sorry that you are the one who is paying the price for my sin of trying to play god," Urahara said. Even though his words were mournful, Urahara's eyes remained dry as Aizen began to collapse into the hole in his being.

"NO!" Aizen shouted. I am the Übermensch! I am the one destined to be God! I blurred the lines of existence! I escaped the pit and deceived the gods of death into their own destruction! I endured destruction personified! My work isn't over yet! I will return! When I do…

"…I WILL BECOME GOD AS YOU INTENDED, KISUKE URAHARA!" Aizen screamed as his being crumbled into dust.

"Goodbye, Souske Aizen," Urahara said. "There are none left who will miss you, but I will mourn what you could have been."

Aizen looked at Kisuke and realized that Urahara was telling the truth. He was becoming nothing. Desperation gripped Aizen as his body continued to be devoured by the Nothingness where the Hogyoku had been.

"NOOO! HELP ME! FATHER!" Aizen begged before vanishing into himself.

Thus it was that nothing remained of the man who would shatter the realms to become God over the ruins of his dream.

Burn…

Burn…

Burn…

Los Angeles, July 4, 2026

The alarm clock "blarked" near her head. She called the noise that the clock made "blark" because there was no other word that could quite capture the annoying persistence of the sound. Eyes still closed she reached up to the head board and smacked the snooze button.

As she snuggled back down into the bed she felt something warm press into her. Smiling, Orihime opened her eyes and lifted the blanket off her, revealing her plaid night gown. Snuggling against her side was a little girl with snow white hair.

"Morning Rachel," she said. The girl twisted her head and revealed a sleepy red eye. She knew that the albino's eyes were off-putting to most even if they didn't admit it. Orihime, however, found the red eyes adorable, like everything else about the child. That included the Hollow-laced Reiatsu that leaked from the girl.

Deciding to get up after all, she threw the blanket aside and sat up. Rachel groaned in protest, but didn't struggle as the young woman picked her up.

"Come on, it's a big day and we'd better get started," she told the child. She kicked her door open and walked into the hallway. She found that one of the best things about having non-sliding doors was the variety of ways she could kick them open.

With the albino girl well in hand, Orihime stopped by a door with a sign hanging on it. The sign only had a single word on it: "Mom" with a red X over it. It had been a happy day for her when that sign had gone up.

"Alice!" Orihime called as she kicked the door twice. "It's time to get up!"

"Go away!" the recently minted teen girl on the other side shouted back.

"Okay! But if you're not up before the toast is ready then I'll send Rachel in with the bucket!" Orihime called in her sing-song voice.

Covering the little girl's ears against the profanity that came pouring through the door was merely a formality. Profanity was just too common in this house for such things to really be of any use. Leaving her other adopted daughter to whatever passed for her morning rituals, Orihime continued to the kitchen.

The kitchen was, by far, her favorite room in the house. Lined with counters and cupboards that only broke for a window, the refrigerator, and doors, it was paradise for the culinary storage and innovation. The nice wooden table was already set for four and the island was already occupied as her son saw to breakfast.

"Oh, you're already up," Sean said as he looked up from his work. He only met his adoptive mother's eyes briefly before returning to the dishes he was working on. He was dark-haired with a solid tan. She could tell that he was shaping up to be a very handsome young man. She hoped the strange feeling of sadness and happiness at the thought was normal.

"No need to worry," Orihime assured him. "How could you plan for me getting up this early?"

Sean nodded in acceptance of the reassurance, but did not look up.

Orihime pulled up a stool and placed Rachel on it. She let the girl kneel on top of it and rest her hands on the counter. Orihime retrieved the toaster from its dark lair and then set out four jars of her home-made jam. By the time she got the bread Rachel was holding one of the jars. Orihime picked it up and smiled.

"Ah! Nutmeg and blueberry jam with sauerkraut juice, an excellent choice," she said and rubbed the little girl's white hair. "Be sure to spread extra on mine."

Leaving Rachel to stare at the working toaster, Orihime took her seat at the table that Sean marked with the daily newspaper. She wished that she could help, but it would only make her son more anxious.

She opened the newspaper and saw that the headlines were dominated by the dire financial and political situations in Eastern Europe as members of the various neo-Fascist and neo-Marxist extremist movements continued to bomb the Western European and Chinese businesses who were moving in. She oddly thought that it was almost nice that the sorrows of a part of the world that wasn't one of the usual suspects were being broadcasted.

Giving those people a break, eh?

Before her odd logic could continue her eyes fell on news about the Fourth of July celebrations.

For the past month it had been all that anyone could talk about. These celebrations would be the biggest in American History and for good reason. This Fourth of July would mark the 250th anniversary of the passing of the Declaration of Independence.

Fireworks! They're going to be the biggest ever!

She always loved watching fireworks. There had been a time when fireworks were the Japanese festivals' main draw for her. But having lived in America for years now, and adopted American children, she felt that this country was as much home as Japan was. She had come here for a fresh start after all.

While it was sad for the old ties to fade over the years, she had formed new ones. She had made friends with many of her co-workers and neighbors. She found a place that she could call "home" and a purpose both professionally and as an amateur matriarch.

There was only one thing missing to make her dreams of a new life complete. However, a little birdy, or rather a curious look in a pocket told her that might change tonight.

"Big smile," Rachel said.

Orihime blinked. The smile on her face slid away as she wondered how long she had been in her head. She looked at Rachel who sitting to her right with a plate with two pieces of burnt toast covered in something that looked like tar.

"Big day," Orihime said and ruffled the stoic child's hair.

"Bucket?" the calm girl asked as the edges of her lips began to curl into a smile.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Alice screamed as she burst into the kitchen, almost causing Sean to drop the bowl of cereal he was carrying. Orihime saw that the freckled red head must have nodded off, again. Her usually smooth hair resembled a bird's nest and she wore only an oversized Los Angeles Angels T-shirt.

"Indoor voice, please," Orihime chided as she lifted a finger.

"Oh please, if I got quiet there would be no sound in this place," Alice said as she rolled her eyes before sitting down at her spot across from Orihime.

"Hmm, that would be a nice change of pace," Orihime said before biting into a piece of toast.

After they finished breakfast, Sean took the plates and bowls to the sink.

"Alice, I want you to be ready by the time I get dressed," Orihime said to the retreating girl. "And that doesn't mean going back to sleep."

The door to Alice's room slammed shut.

"Bucket?" Rachel asked, looking up at her mother. Orihime smiled down at the albino girl.

"Only if your sister isn't ready by the time I get dressed."

Rachel nodded and Orihime made her way back to the master bedroom. She closed the door behind her and went to the master bath. She found it nice to have her own private bathroom, complete with a large bathtub and a shower stall, that she didn't have to share with the children, especially Alice.

She shut the door behind her and locked it before making her way to the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror for a while, running a hand through her dark-orange hair. She thought about dying it, but decided against it. Her hair was one of the things that she could not change to bring herself to change. She supposed she would never change it.

She opened one of the drawers and took out the hairpins. It had been a long time since she wore them and she doubted that the Shun-Shun Rikka would respond to her. She was an adult now and all of the movies and books said that adults could rarely access the magic they had in their younger days. However, she would wear them today. Today was going to be the day when the last bridge connecting her old life with her new would be burned.

I'll give them to Alice tomorrow. And that will be that.

She decided that she would take a bath instead of her usual morning shower. It was not only a way to treat herself but it would give Alice a little more time to get ready.

After filling the tub with warm water and the liquid for a bubble bath she shed her clothes and looked down at herself. Her figure was more modest, and hopefully more motherly than her old friends would expect. Only Charles had ever seen her like that, and being the stoic gentleman he had been for as long as she had known him, he didn't say anything. Perhaps that was why she truly let him connect with her however rarely and purely professionally. He asked little and expected little back. That made him safer than any of the others at the Institute.

An odd sense of curiosity came to her as she looked in the mirror. She put the hairpins in her hair and focused. The old glow came over her as she assumed what she would have looked like had nature took its course. She wore this form for some cases, but she had never seen what she would have looked like naked in it. She felt as though she was a nymph looking at what may have been. She sighed.

"Poor Chizuru would have died. But then that is why…" she didn't say any more. Instead she let the form of her own choosing resume. Once she returned to the mask she normally wore she took the pins out of her hair and put them on the counter.

She got in the tub, letting herself sink into the warm water. Once the warm water helped to relax her muscles she went to scrubbing herself.

She was not ashamed of the beauty she had once been, but she had altered her appearance to start a new life. She didn't want people to be distracted from her by her physical appearance and so had decided that a more average appearance would be the way to go.

She picked up the rubber frog from its place in the soap holder and looked at it.

"Ribbit! Why so morbid?" she asked herself through the bath toy, a habit from her childhood that she never truly got over. She also had a classic rubber ducky, but this was more of her frog's territory. The real name she had given the toy frog was Taira Winchester Ali Montasria Jr., but that was such a mouthful for her. So, she had decided to just call him "Froggy".

"I'm not being morbid, Froggy. I'm reminiscing," Orihime said.

"Ribbit! That's one and the same to you. If you have to look back why not see the good times? Just because they ended doesn't make them any less meaningful," she said through the toy.

"Damn, you have such a way of cutting to the quick. I suppose it's just nerves. I mean…I mean it just changes everything. I won't have to wonder what might have been and really commit to a course in life," Orihime started to explain.

"Ribbit! More than adopting three children you knew no one else wanted? You were terrified that you wouldn't be good enough for them since you have your own issues. You had to pull a lot of strings to get them. Despite your doubts, they seem to be doing well. Ribbit!

"Ribbit! So why does a ring weigh more on you?"

July 1

"That was…well, I never had a meal like that," Charles Westlake said as he looked at the left-over spaghetti with chocolate-tomato sauce.

"I'm glad that you liked it," Orihime said as she reached for his plate.

"No, I'll take care of it," Charles said as he stood and took Orihime's plate. "You fixed the meal, so it's my job to clean." Orihime smiled.

She first met Charles Westlake after her first month at the Institute of Spiritual Services. He was part of the team whose job was to go out and look for children who had the potential to become spiritually aware. Orihime was surprise how after the Second Aizen War, more people were becoming spiritually aware, especially in America. She had met him when she decided that she wanted to adopt.

He was the one who helped her get custody of Alice and Rachel. Charles hadn't been directly involved with getting her custody of Sean, but he had at least given the file to her and made sure that his assistant helped her. Even though they didn't work in the same department, they would sometimes meet for lunch and talk. While at work they made sure that it was purely professional, but then they started meeting outside work.

At the beginning, Orihime was afraid that he would make demands of her or he would do something that would hurt her. However, he didn't do anything or asked her to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. Instead, he focused on what she wanted. She remembered how that made her feel. For the first time, since the destruction of Karakura Town, she was truly happy.

"Earth to Hime. Come in, Orihime."

"Oh…sorry," Orihime said. "Did you say something?"

"Well, I was asking if you and the kids wanted to meet me downtown for the Fourth of July. We could spend the day together if you wanted."

"Oh…yes…yes that would be nice."

Charles smiled and picked up the last plate.

"I didn't see the kids around. Are they out?"

"Rachel's having her first sleep-over at a friend's house. Alice and Sean are going to be coming back from the camp in Tahoe tomorrow and I'll just pick them up at the Institute."

"Well, it's good to hear that they're being proactive," Charles said as he cleared off the last plate and put it in the dishwasher. "I've heard from most of the other child advocates that children who are likely to be spiritually aware have a hard time engaging in social interaction."

"Sean's that way," Orihime said.

"I'm not surprised. Young men seem to have a more difficult time adapting to the awareness and there's only so much that a single parent can do for them."

Orihime looked at Charles and could tell that he was holding something back.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Well, there's…there's something…uh…never mind," Charles said. "We can discuss it more when we get together for the Fourth."

"Oh." Orihime got up. "Are you going to be leaving or would you like to stay a bit longer?"

"I better get going. I got drafted to help with filing the latest paperwork and it needs to get done before the Fourth."

"I'll get your jacket."

Orihime went to the closet and took out the San Francisco 49ers' jacket that Charles liked to wear, regardless of the temperature outside. As she reached for it she noticed a bulge in one of the pockets. She looked around to make sure that Charles wasn't close enough to see.

She reached in and pulled out a small black box. Her heart began pounding faster as she opened it. She gasped when she saw the diamond ring inside and smiled.

July 4

A loud banging at the bedroom door stirred Orihime from her reverie. Blinking in the lukewarm water she looked in the direction of the bedroom door. Alice shouted through the door even while pounding on it again.

"MOM! CHARLE'S HERE! DID YOU DROWN IN THE TUB OR SOMETHING!?"

"Yes, and your mother's ghost is telling you that it's rude to pound on doors!" Orihime called back.

"AND IT'S NOT RUDE TO TELL ME TO HURRY UP AND GET DRESSED, WHILE YOU SIT THERE MARINATING WHILE EVERYONE ELSE'S WAITING?" Alice retorted.

"…It was an accident!" Orihime answered.

"Whatever. I want to get there before it's too crowded. I want the guys to see how hot I am and trip into each other," Alice called before walking off. Orihime stepped out of the tub and pulled the plug.

"I really thought I was past zoning out like that," she sighed. When the children entered her life it had been Alice's role to zone out. The girl would get in her lap or lean against her while her mind was years and a continent away. Sometimes her mind was a dimension away.

It did get better though, Orihime assured herself as she hastily dried off and went into her bedroom. She wasn't surprised to see Rachel, already dressed in jeans with a long-sleeved Berserk T-shirt and gloves on, sitting on her bed with her outfit of choice laid out next to her. Her hands were folded in her lap and she looked up at her mother with a smile on her face.

Orihime was used to her daughter's lack of respect for others' modesty. She looked at the dress in her nude state and nodded in approval. She went to her dresser and pulled out a drawer. She gave a toothy smile as she pulled out a pair of black panties that she had been saving for a special occasion. It was true that he wouldn't know she was wearing them when he proposed, but she would know.

And knowledge is power!

Downtown Los Angeles, July 4, 2026

Orihime was glad that she and her family were able to come to downtown Los Agneles to witness the Fourth of July Parade, which was promised to be one of the biggest celebrations in the United States. The large screens lining the streets showed celebrations from America's "Father Cities": Boston, Philadelphia, Washington D. C., and New York City. Orihime looked at them briefly.

"I hope that people will behave this year," Charles said. "The last thing we need is for too many drunk people on the roads."

"It'll just be the same as last year," Alice said.

"She's right," Orihime said. "People drink a lot when they're celebrating. Who knows, maybe I might get a little drunk myself."

Orihime gave a sly wink and Charles blushed. He ran a hand through his red hair and the other into his jacket's pocket. Orihime knew that he was touching the small box. She understood that he was debating on exactly when he would bring it out and open it while kneeling in front of her. Would he do it during the fireworks or would he hold off until after they made love? She hoped he would decide on the former. That would be more romantic.

"Mommy, Mommy," Rachel said, tugging on her skirt.

Orihime looked down and smiled. She couldn't see her daughter's red eyes or white hair due to the sunglasses and the sun hat she wore, but she knew that her daughter was excited about something.

"What is it, Rachel?"

"Ice cream, ice cream," the albino girl said and pointed down the street with a gloved hand.

Orihime smiled when she saw the Ben & Jerry's sign.

"Smart girl," Charles said. "Ice cream is the thing to have on a hot day. Orihime, do you mind if I…?"

"No, go ahead," Orihime said.

"Alright, Sean, come on," Charles said to Sean who was watching one of the screens showing a group of old people dressed in tri-cornered hats and bonnets with tea bags hanging down from them and waving yellow flags with the "Don't Treat on Me" snake, a remnant of a long-defunct political movement.

"Okay," Sean said as he turned away from the screen. His eyes kept darting around and Orihime knew that he was feeling uncomfortable being around so many people.

Orihime looked at a line of public pay phones lining the base of one of Los Angeles's many towers.

"Hey, are you coming?" Charles asked.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a moment. I just want to make a phone call first," she said.

"Alright," Charles said. "I'll have your Chunky Monkey ready for you when you're ready."

"Hmmm, my favorite," Orihime said, smiling.

"Especially when it's in a chocolate-covered waffle bowl with sprinkles," Charles said.

"Even better," Orihime said. She felt her mouth start to water.

"All right. Just don't be too long. You wouldn't want it to become soup."

"I won't be long," Orihime said.

She watched as Charles and her adopted children walk to the Ben & Jerry's shop and walk inside. She sighed and walked to the payphone. She took out her billfold and took out her credit card. She picked up the receiver and pressed the START button that flashed on the main screen and swiped her card through the reader.

She looked at the options that were displayed on the screen and pressed INTERNATIONAL. She looked through the list of nations serviced by the Global Communications Network and selected JAPAN. When prompted she entered the number that she retrieved from her memory. She closed her eyes and listened to the ringing on the other end, picturing the front counter and shelves filled with various merchandise. Then she heard the sound of someone picking up the phone.

"Hello, Urahara Shoten, how may I help you?"

"Hello Tessai," Orihime said, smiling at hearing a familiar voice. "Is Kisuke or Yoruichi there?"

There was a pause.

"Miss Inoue, is that you?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me. I know that it's been a long time, but…" She felt herself starting to tear-up from the memories that Tessai's voice brought up.

"Yes, it has been a long time, and I know that Kisuke and Yoruichi have been worried about you since he last saw you."

Orihime felt tears come to her eyes. The last time she talked to either Kisuke or Yoruichi was shortly after the Second Aizen War ended. She remembered how they agreed to keep certain facts hidden behind a wall of lies. She was the one who insisted that it be that way.

"Well, I called because there's something I want to tell them. So, are they in?"

"I'm sorry, but they're not here right now. I believe that Urahara is away on business for the Soul Society and Yoruichi is running an errand in Thailand."

"Oh, that's too bad. Do you know when they'll be back?"

"I can't say for sure. But, I can take your message and make sure that the first to get back knows that you called."

"Thanks, but…you know, I'll just call later. Do you think either one will be back in a week?"

"I would think so," Tessai said. There was another pause and then Tessai asked, "Is everything alright, Miss Inoue?"

"Yeah," Orihime said. "Everything's fine."

"That's good to hear. I'll make sure that the boss knows that you called."

"Thanks," Orihime said and hung up.

She let out her breath and looked around her. Horns blared as Los Angeles traffic crept forward at a crawl. People were waving American flags and sparklers while laughing. The street preachers were out in force, holding up Bibles and giving warnings about "The Great Whore of Babylon" and "God bombs". Bottle rockets were being launched from the roofs the apartment buildings.

A screaming comes across the sky, she thought as she listened to the small rockets.

She jumped at the sound of bang snaps being set off by a group of hollering high school students. She noticed that some of the students were more than two sails to the wind with beer already. She chuckled at their antics and made her way to the Ben & Jerry's.

She saw something out of the corner of her eye and stopped. She turned her head and a shudder ran up her spine when she saw the black-clad figure standing on top of a street light. The figure was tall with shortly-cropped black hair. A few other people saw the figure and paused to look before shaking their heads and walking away. But Orihime could only look, her eyes wide at the Soul Reaper.

The figure looked around and then took out a cell phone that Orihime knew to be a soul pager. She watched the Soul Reaper with curiosity as he said something into the soul pager. She couldn't be certain, but she thought he said, "Eclipse."

It was strange. She couldn't sense any Hollows nearby. She wondered if the Soul Reaper was on some other sort of business for the Soul Society.

It doesn't concern me, she thought. I doubt the Soul Society knows where I am.

She turned to face forward. That was when someone screamed.

She turned and saw people looking at some of the screens. Where there were once images of people celebrating America's 250th Anniversary there was now only blackness.

"What happened?" someone asked.

"I don't know," another said.

"A flash," a third said. "There was a flash and then…"

Orihime looked up at the Soul Reaper and saw something that looked like a detonator in one hand and was holding up a pair of binoculars in the other. Her eyes widened and she looked in the direction he was looking. She didn't see anything unusual, but she know that something was about to happen.

The burst of light told her all that she needed to know. She raised her hands to her temples.

"SANTEN KESSHUN, I REJECT!" she shouted without even thinking. The three rays of golden light that she knew were Hingiku, Lily, and Baigon raced from their positions and formed the triangular shield in front of her just as the force of the nuclear explosion was released.

Some of the people wanted to flee, but before they could react they were engulfed in a cloud of fire and ash. She watched in horror as cars were thrown by the blast as though they were nothing more than leaves in a hurricane. People screamed as limbs were ripped from their sockets by the explosion's mere force. Blood mixed with fire and the aroma of burning flesh was nothing to the horror that Orihime felt.

No, Charles, Alice, Sean, Rachel! MY FAMILY!

"NO!" Orihime shouted.

The shield before her held, but only for a moment. The force of the explosion caused it to shatter and Orihime felt the fire devour her.

BURN…

BURN…

BURN…

After The Downfall

Death.

It was her first realization as her consciousness returned. The lack of fear in that moment was not surprising. Death had been part of her life since her brother had been torn away from her. That role had grown as she found friends and enemies among the dead. And with her career and family it was no exaggeration to say that her life revolved around death.

Yet, she had not really experienced it herself.

She knew what could happen, but she had never asked what it was like to pass from one world to the other. Would she awaken with a broken chain, or would she emerge into that new world as she emerged into the old world, naked and screaming?

There was no flash of light or return to senses. For a length of time that she could not measure she merely existed.

The pain came, ending the sensation of mere existence, bringing her final thoughts with it.

"THE CHILDREN!" she screamed without a voice. She struggled and raged with all her will to rise up, to let the darkness fall away and fulfill the ingrained need.

To hell with the lack of a genetic link, I'm their mother!

There was no change, no motion, no reaction. She could do nothing.

Screams gave way to silent wails as rage mixed with horror and despair.

Is this Hell? I know it exists. I know that some horror waits beyond those chained gates. Were my sins so terrible?

"Ridiculous conclusions as usual, Orihime," a voice called from the dark. It was a voice that she knew.

Tsubaki?

Lights appeared before her. They were no more than a colorful will o wisps, but she knew them. They were her Shun-Shun Rikka.

Where am I?

"You're alive, barely. By our sheer will you were held on the very verge of death. To be honest you are constantly dying and we are rejecting death each time it returns. To call it 'life support' gives your state too much credit.

"I suppose the best way to put it is to say that you're merely a corpse that hasn't finished dying yet," Tsubaki said.

What about the children? Charles? You called me by my name, but why didn't the others speak?

"If you had eyes, much less eyes to see, you would know that there was no way anything but you could survive so close to the epicenter. This corpse is buried by ash and ruin. They're all dead."

"Ach," she rasped with her ruined vocal cords. It hurt too much to speak, but her anguish demanded to be released. She wanted to weep, but no tears could come. "Ach, ach, ach! Aaaaaa!"

"Shut up. If you want to do that then do it in your head, but there's nothing I can do about it. To be honest, we had enough problems putting all of our energy to keep you from dying long enough to begin putting your body back together enough to start healing it.

"I am here to ask for your help. We need your will to further fuel our efforts."

Can my power bring them back?

Tsubaki looked at the others, but none of them reacted. Orihime could see that they were all weaker and were somewhat transparent. It was as though they were on the verge of fading away. Tsubaki sighed and shook his head.

"There's nothing left to use. Even if we found bones this fire is an affront to nature. It has tainted what it touched. We can only pull you back because our grip has not slipped."

Then let me go. Let me die and follow them.

"No," Tsubaki said, his voice firm.

No?

"Our lives are tied to your life, not to some hairpins. If we die then we die as your mortal existence ends. One of us may be reborn as your Zanpakuto if you walk that path, but even if that happens, the others will be lost forever as far as we know. We don't want to die. Therefore, we will not let you die."

You are my power. I demand that you release me!

"Stupid girl, you never really understood us. You're not our master. You're our host. You gave us free will. You made us equal rather than servants out of the deep loneliness that hollowed out so much of your heart. We may have become reflections of your nature, but that doesn't change what we are.

"When that emptiness receded your will grew stronger. But now, more than ever, our will is stronger.

"We may need you, but it has only ever been in our interests to obey so we could be stronger through you."

You're lying! I demand that you let me die.

"I have always been honest. You made me to embody the hard truths about yourself that you did not want to admit to. But even then you put a mask on me. In this matter, though, you don't have a choice. You can live as you want, but we will ensure that you live. And now it seems that we can indeed ensure that you live indefinitely, regardless of what you do."

She hated her Shun-Shun Rikka. They had taken away the sweet relief of death from her so that they would remain alive. She realized that they were little more than parasites feeding off her. Yet Tsubaki told her that they became reflections of her nature. Did that mean that she was like them: a selfish coward? Even if that was the case she didn't want to have to endure the pain of being alone.

Please…please…don't…

"No. Now, Orihime, return to darkness. We snese that Urahara is near. He will prove useful to completing this resurrection."

The Ruins

Kisuke Urahara and Tessai made their way through the devestation. Gray snow fell around them, covering the twisted steel and broken stones. Even though two weeks passed since the bombs were detonated fire still burned beneath their feet. The kido glowing around them only allowed them to walk here and even then it would be foolish to linger.

Even though the ruins of Los Angeles was a nightmare, it was nothing compared to what was happening throughout America. He already knew of various groups of survivors gathering into bands, desperate to survive. Warlords were already rising in the Rocky Mountains and the Deep South and Texas. The triage was still in effect and many were left to die. The waves of suicide had not yet reached its apex. Disease, famine, blood-shed, and chaos would reign for decades at least.

For better or worse, the old United States of America was dead.

Kisuke returned his focus to the small device he held as it began to beep. He looked at the screen and nodded. Tessai stopped and rubbed his leg as he leaned on a cane.

"This is it, Tessai."

"It can't be right, boss. Even if she survived…"

"You remember what she can do, and undo. I'm not ashamed to admit that I only have theories on what applies to her," he said, indicating a collapsed building.

They continued searching the general area. Kisuke looked at his device from time to time while Tessai performed kido spells designed to seek specified Reiatsu. Twenty minutes after Kisuke got the initial signal they came across the apex of an orange dome nearly buried by stone and ash. Tessai immediately performed the necessary kido to move enough debrish and ash to reveal what lay beneath.

Both men were hardened by wars and the horrors of science and kido, but nothing prepared them for what they saw under the dome of Orihime's power.

"She's dead," Tessai stated, bowing his head as though honoring the dead.

"But she isn't. This shouldn't be, Tessai," Kisuke said as he looked down at the revolting mass of charred flesh and bone that his instruments indicated was Orihime Inoue.

"We should break that dome. That would send her to the Soul Society. If her regeneration has not taken place yet, it means she would have to experience being brought back from this. Even the Sokyoku was not that cruel."

Kisuke thought about it and then shook his head.

"No. Her will to live has not been extinguished and there has been enough death. Make preparations to move her back to the shop. We still have a chance to save her."

Tessai looked at the charred and ruined remains under the golden dome and looked at Kisuke. His face was stern and his eyes betrayed some anger.

"Are you doing this for her sake or your own?" Tessai asked.

Kisuke didn't respond.

Burn…

Burn…

Burn…

The Soul Society, July 4, 2027

"Are you sure you don't need anything else, sir?" Lieutenant Chōjirō Sasakibe asked as he held out a cup of tea to Captain-Commander Yamamoto.

"Yes," the old man said as he accepted the tea. The two men were on the small tea house's porch that overlooked Squad One's private garden. The bushes and trees were laid out in a zen style, subdued and elegant in the moonlight.

Sasakibe looked at the old Captain-Commander and wasn't surprised to see that he looked much older than he had the year before. It was as though the weight of his current decisions were taking their toll.

"I just need some time alone, Chōjirō. Make sure that no one interrupts me for the rest of the night."

"As you wish, sir," The Squad One Lieutenant said before departing.

Genryusai Yamamoto sighed and closed his eyes as the other man's presence retreated from his senses. Soon, the only sounds he could hear were the soft thump of a shishiodoshi and the singing of a nightingale. He opened his eyes and looked up at the moon, sipping at his tea. There was harmony and balance in the garden this night. He wished that things could remain like this forever, but he knew that it was impossible.

Even now, in the World of the Living, chaos reigned in the aftermath of the disaster that was continuing to unfold. The thought soured the tea in his mouth. It made the serenity around him seem little more than a façade. The thought brought about a recollection of a bit of wisdom imparted to him by a teacher of his long lost youth:

"Remember, even when you face tragedy and defeat, there are those who know nothing of what is going on and are having the best day of their lives."

The words were true, in their own way, but they did not lessen the tragedy regardless of how much one tried to reduce its size in scale.

Captain Kurotsuchi and his drones informed him that matters in the World of the Living were playing out in the best manner possible. Mayuri did not care about any loss of life as long as he achieved his goal. Yamamoto knew that it was a useful trait in an officer, but such apathy had its price.

Then there was the matter of Central 46. The members of Central 46 and their allies were forming their own private army that would not be answerable to the Gotei. Aizen's slaughter of their predecessors gave them the necessary justification for this action. The truth was that they knew that he had wavered. This had caused Yamamoto to keep his actions in the World of the Living secret from all but two of his captains, fearing the reactions of some and knowing that it would bring others to arms against him. Rather than reexamine their actions, the reaction of Central 46 was to find new ways around the Gotei to carry out their own devices.

Even though they had been informed of the circumstances developing in the United States following Aizen's death, Central 46 had ordered him not to interfere. Yet Yamamoto had disobeyed. He believed that Central 46 gave the order out of some sense of arrogance. They did not think that humanity could create a Senkaimon, and if they did then they would be able to either destroy it or control it to suit their own devices. Regardless, Yamamoto was afraid that they were wrong in either case. If the Living were able to create a Senkaimon, then nothing could stop the consequences.

The thought did not stop Yamamoto asking himself, "Did I make the right decision?"

Despite his doubts, Captain Kurotsuchi's reports proved that he did make the right decision. The deed had been done to the best of their ability. The truth was well lost by now, and the matter would end as a disaster and not the seed for future wars in the Soul Society. He had chosen the lesser of the two evils, as was the sum of his duties as the Captain-Commander.

Yamamoto closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the night, searching for some serenity. The elder Shinigami found something else instead. He felt another presence close by, but he did not open his eyes. This was the person he had been waiting for a year to come to him after what Kisuke told him.

"I knew that you would come," he said. "However, I thought you would have done so much sooner."

"I came when the time was right," his guest said. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Yes."

There was a pause and he could hear the footsteps on the stones. He still kept his eyes closed. He knew his past actions and he never tried to separate himself from them in his mind, but he still did not want to look upon the consequences. He found that in times that required cruel action the consequences were always bitter.

"Are you afraid, Old Man? Is that why you keep your eyes shut? Are you too afraid to look on what you've done?"

"Yes," Yamamoto whispered.

"Do you think I care about that? I want you to open your eyes and see what you've done to me. I want you to look on what remains of the one who got rid of Aizen and the Hogyoku for you. So open your eyes, Old Man, and look at me. It's the least you can do for the innocence destroyed by the Soul Society."

Yamamoto opened his eyes. The sight before the ancient Soul Reaper disgusted him. The young girl whom Ichigo had risked his life to save from Hueco Mundo was now a ruin of her former self. All of her hair had either been burned away or fallen out because of the radiation. Her naked skin was a mass of scar tissue mixed with areas still blackened from dead skin cells. Her chest was a shriveled mutilation of what had once, without doubt, made her an object of envy among her fellow women. The hands were further horrors, the fingers burned and curled into useless claws that were tipped with bare bone. One eye had been melted away, leaving a black pit in her ruined face while the other looked completely dead. The two hair pins she wore had been melted into her red and black scalp. The pins still glittered merrily in the moonlight, a travesty of cheeriness to a specter of death more fitting than any of the Gotei 13.

"I see," Yamamoto whispered.

"Do you really?"

"Yes. I see that I destroyed you in every way possible, Orihime Inoue. The ravages of the body reflect those of your soul. I know why you are here, and I know that I have no right to ask it of you, but…I…I ask for your forgiveness."

"How can I possibly forgive you?" Orihime asked. "You took everything away from me. You took away my children. You took away the man who loved me and who would have become my husband. You took away the home that I made with the people I loved. You took away everything I lived for. You shattered my hopes and dreams of actually living a normal life. Yet you sit there and dare to ask me for forgiveness."

"I did not expect to receive it," Yamamoto said and lowered his head. "I doubt that I would have given it if I was in your place. I understand…"

"You don't understand anything," Orihime snarled. "Before I do what I came here for, I want to know why. Why did you do it? Why did you throw the world into chaos? Why did you turn me into this?"

Yamamoto sighed. There was no reason to hide it.

"I did what I had to do to fulfill my duty."

Orihime didn't say anything, but Yamamoto knew that such a simple answer would not be enough for her. Orihime was his judge and executioner, and she deserved a full answer.

"The World of the Living was advancing too quickly. Over these past centuries they have hurtled forward to achieve more than even I would have ever imagined. Some of them even slipped through the boundaries of the world to walk upon the moon. Yet, they hardly matured with their power.

"You know their history, the useless folly and the risks they took. During the 'Cold War' I violated the laws that barred us from meddling in their affairs to ensure they did not destroy themselves and set the cycle into utter chaos.

"This time, though, they were getting too close to a truth that they were utterly unready for. A truth that some of Aizen's followers made sure got out, even if it was only bits and pieces. Your organization, the Institute for Spiritual Services, and the American military's 'Arrowhead Project' were a testament to how close they were coming," he told her sadly.

"You feared that the true nature of the world would be revealed to the masses? The government went to great lengths to cover that up," Orihime said.

"They would have failed," Yamamoto said. "Those who gained that knowledge would not let matters lie. The American leaders wanted to know and harness the new frontier that the research that Aizen's followers leaked to them would have given them access to. It was only a matter of time before they succeeded in gaining the power to rip the fabric between the Worlds by creating their own Senkaimon."

"But you use Senkaimon," Orihime said. "Aren't you contradicting your very words?"

"We use the Senkaimon so that the equilibrium of the living and the dead may be maintained. They would have used it the same way a virus uses an open wound: to spread.

"The Worlds are meant to remain segregated. No good has ever come of them mixing. The World of the Living is for the living and the dead should look forward not backwards. Yet, humanity wasn't ready to accept truths that they would not like. They would, as they have done so many times in the past, have judged in ignorance and act in arrogance and greed against the pillars that have held them up for ages," Yamamoto said. "They would have destroyed both us and themselves.

"I did what I did to make sure that both would survive.

"What I have done to you and the World of the Living was evil. However, it was the lesser evil, as has been the case with the many atrocities I have committed or permitted to unfold. Humanity has been set back. Under the cover of the current chaos we have purged the living of what they knew about the Senkaimon that did not burn. We will watch them closely now, to ensure they will not draw close to the truth until they are truly ready to understand their place in the order of the Cosmos. And that will only happen when all of humanity is finished with their petty bickering over politics and religion.

"The covered tracks will keep the truth hidden from the living and the dead alike, hopefully forever. Thus, it falls to you to pass judgment, Orihime Inoue. I could have stopped it, but I didn't. I gave the order and drew the sword. My life is the only one you need to take, because it is my fault more than any other."

Orihime remained silent. Her single dead eye looked at Yamamoto.

"Thank you for being honest," she said. "However, I do not forgive you for this just as I do not forgive Urahara for Aizen and for the role he played."

"Will you kill Urahara as well?" Yamamoto asked.

"No. I want him to live. Life is crueler than death for him," Orihime said in her monotonous voice. "You, however, are a different matter. As you said, you are responsible, and therefore the lives of the millions who died one year ago today are on your head. And unlike Urahra you may be able to live with this atrocity as you have the others before. If there is any justice in the world, any of the Worlds, then you must die."

Yamamoto lowered his head and nodded.

"I agree." He looked down at his cup of tea and placed it on the wooden floor. "There is no reason for you to grant me anything. However, I ask that you make it quick. I…don't want to risk someone interfering with the sentence and complicating matters further."

"I intend to make it quick. Your suffering would not serve any purpose. I only demand your death," Orihime said, maintaining her monotonous tone. She placed her scared hands to either side of her head, touching the petals of the hair pins with the tips of the bones protruding from charred flesh.

"Sōten Kisshun, I sacrifice," she said.

Orihime watched as Ayame and Shun'ō flew from the hairpins and raced towards Yamamoto. They landed on either side of the old man and formed their shield. However, this shield wasn't of golden light. It was the ghostly silver of moonlight.

Yamamoto didn't feel anything at first, but then he felt something begin to leave him as it was being consumed by some unknown force. He began to struggle for breath as his life was being consumed by death. A stubborn, desperate part of him didn't want to die. There was so much he had to do. There were still so many regrets that had yet to be atoned. There were so many burdens that would be passed down unfairly from him to the subsequent generations.

Yet his regrets and desires changed nothing. At long last, the strength was flowing out of him. His ancient Reiatsu, which had enabled him to take so many lives, was fading. He was, for the first time in his thousands of years, facing a power that he was powerless to stop.

I'm going to die, he thought. That realization brought a sense of peace upon him. He closed his eyes and smiled as he listened to the nightingale's song. This is what peace is, he thought. It's…

Yamamoto shed a single tear. Whether it was for the countless sorrows he knew or the relief of release none could say. The song of the nightingale became a lament in the peaceful garden.

With their work done, the two members of the Shun Shun Rikka returned to their mistress. Orihime waited for them to return to their place, wrapping her tight in their healing light as they returned to the long task of restoring their mistress in flesh as they couldn't in spirit. Orihime knew that it wouldn't take them much longer.

I will not look back. I don't care what happens to the Soul Society, and I will not regret this decision.

Wreathed in golden light, Orihime walked into the night and out of the Soul Society for the last time.

Denver

Orihime watched the flames die down after consuming the sacrifice. The night filled with the explosions of the fireworks she once loved but now despised. The cacophony of blaring sirens and bugles and drums and patriotic fervor surrounded her. The flames on the holo-screens were replaced with patriotic images of long dead presidents and destroyed monuments in their former splendor. The charge for the upcoming year flashed across the images: PATRIOTS, RESTORE AMERICA.

You can't go home anymore, Orihime thought as she looked at the images.

She looked at the faces in the crowd around her and wondered how many of them really understood what America was like before the Downfall. It was one of the few areas where she agreed with The General: America had enslaved itself with greed, gluttony, corruption, and complacency. America destroyed herself with her hubris, like Rome before her. It was the inevitable fate of all nations and empires and gods: to reach the mountain's peak only to have it collapse under the weight of their own glory.

For a nation or empire or god to survive then all that they could do was to develop the mindset that there was no pinnacle. There was only the climb; only the struggle.

It was a lesson that Aizen never learned and one that Yamamoto learned too late.

The faces around her betrayed that they didn't know that they were hoping for the mountain peak again. When they got there, she wondered if they would realize just how lonely absolute glory truly is and would thus allow the mountain to collapse and crush them again. The mountain top was, like the behelits in a manga she remembered from the old days, a cursed blessing. It allowed one to gain a view of the world that they would otherwise never see and yet it was a desolate place, demanding more than what it was worth.

When one sees desolation they come to realize just how beautiful it can be and it changes a person, Orihime thought as she walked through the crowds. Desolation tries to colonize those who truly behold it.

She saw the desolation and she saw that it was more honest than the façade paraded before her by the Soul Society and the World of the Living. She allowed desolation to colonize her and she found that everything in her life before the desolation was hollow. She had dreamt in vain and those dreams had long since been sacrificed to the flames, leaving nothing but their ashes without a phoenix.

End of Chapter 11

A.N.: This is one of the riskiest chapters that Eduard and I have done thus far. Not only does is it completely divergent from the canon after a point in the Fake Karakura Town Arc (and even before it to some extent), but this is the first chapter in which past events really come to the forefront. This chapter revealed some of the reasons why things are the way they are in the Soul Society and the World of the Living. However, I also view this chapter as also the beginning of a personal odyssey for Orihime.

I sometimes think that Orihime is one of the most underappreciated characters in Bleach, with some only thinking that she's just a pretty girl who's nothing more than an airhead. However, I do believe that situations arise that really challenge a person and it is those situations that truly reveal who a person is. As a result, Eduard and I decided to make the end of the Second Aizen War Orihime's opportunity.

She realizes that, unlike her stay in Hueco Mundo, no one can come to the rescue on account that they're all either dead, too badly wounded to do anything, or struggling to stay alive. It is up to her to decide whether she will rise to the challenge, but isn't prepared for the consequences of her choice. It's the same in real life. We all make decisions that seem courageous and necessary at the time, but the consequences weigh on us and we begin telling ourselves "If only…"

The Downfall itself was inspired by two main sources: the cancelled-too-soon television series "Jericho" and the novel Swan Song by Robert McCammon. Restored America is inspired by a combination of George Orwell's 1984, Italy under Mussolini, and the First French Empire under Napoleon Bonaparte. The imagery of the March of Patriots was inspired by the Nazi propaganda film Triumph of the Will.

I couldn't resist having a couple of Berserk references added in, especially after reading Volumes 12 and 13.

Other nods in this chapter:

Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

The Dark Tower: Song of Susannah and "The Mist" by Stephen King

Annihilation by Jeff Vandermeer

Attack on Titan: No Regrets

Thank you for reading and please review.