The pain lanced into him once more, driving Renji to his knees. Blood spilled forth to be absorbed into the waiting mist. When it was over, he found himself in another part of the maze.

He nearly screamed in frustration at having to go through all this again, but his teeth gritted against crying out. Don't give her the satisfaction! The weary soul forced himself to stand using Zabimaru as a crutch. That made it four times he had guessed correctly compared to three times he had not. Shivering violently, he pressed on through the featureless turns and dead-end hallways, each looking just like those that came before. There was no indication how much longer the gauntlet would last.

It had finally dawned upon him that what he was experiencing must be Urahara's bankai. Would explain why the older captain insisted he flee earlier. Which hardly mattered now, because he was in it. Renji recalled a point before the Autumn War when the human Sado Yasutora had come to ask for training from Urahara, only to be turned down on the grounds that his bankai would be 'unsuitable'. It was becoming painfully clear what that meant. This thing did not exist for any purpose except to destroy a person. Benihime's final release was breaking him down bit by bit. He felt weak and disoriented from the relentless onslaught of an endless environment. To say nothing of the strain derived from being hunted by heaven only knew what.

He had yet to spy the beast again. It wasn't Grimmjow, that much he could be certain of from the brief glimpse back when all this started. Which meant it was another part of the bankai. Those trick portals took more out of him every time. There was no means to discern which might prove lethal; sometimes it was the red door, other times the white. Combined with this was a terrible suspicion that there was no end, no center of the labyrinth at all. It would just keep him in here until he ran out of strength and dropped dead. Where was Urahara? Why was he letting this happen?

Am I going to die here?

Despair rose up in his throat to choke him. Should I stop running, then? Stand my ground until that thing chasing me catches up and fight for my life, before I become any weaker from Benihime's sick guessing games?

Renji actually hesitated for a few moments, debating. That idea does hold some appeal. Except doing so was just another form of giving up. The same as lying down and… dying. He felt how tired he was, such that his own body begged for him to do just that, come what may. Let this place kill me. Just let it end…

His hold on Zabimaru tightened.

"I will not…" Abarai growled through clenched teeth, then threw his head back and roared, "…QUIT!"

Above him, the face of Benihime twisted in mocking laughter, before disappearing once more into the darkness.

Alone, without even the voice of his zanpakutō to accompany him, he made a vow right then and there.

I'm not about to throw away my life. I will survive you, Benihime.

So Renji lurched on. Fighting a dread of what might lie around every corner, struggling to hold onto the hope that the next door might be the way out. When yet another choice of portals presented itself, red or white, he selected white without hesitation. Please let it be safe. Please let it be safe…

It was.

Ichigo's Hollow stood unmoving. Behind it was yet another set of doors, which it resolutely ignored. Hands balled into tight fists, it waited, staring fixedly at the turn in the passage down which it came. Its shoulders flexed in anticipation.

I'm not doing this anymore. Before I take another step, I have to kill that fucker who's been following me. I know he's there. And if he had to go through the trap doors as well, then he's hurting as badly as me. I'll take him on here, and maybe end this game. Not that it really matters. I just want to get my hands on someone who can bleed and feel pain. Make this asshole regret ever crossing me!

There came a faint sound from up ahead. Someone was approaching this position. The Hollow drew in a sharp breath and tensed to spring. In moments the enemy would round the bend. Then the Hollow would attack and tear it to pieces, whatever it might prove to be.

Come on. Come and get it. I'm waiting for you. No more running! Show me your face, you bastard, and I'll kill you!

Raspy breathing through clenched teeth. A smell like an animal in the wild. The slow tread of clawed feet.

A hand grasped the corner.

There was only a moment to register sharp black talons and yellow flesh before the rest came into view, and they saw one another.

As the pursuer raced forward, Ichigo's Hollow turned and dove through one of the portals at random, not caring if it was safe or not.

It wasn't.

They came exploding through the wall in a gale of dust and rock. A lightning kick from Soifon only ruffled Grimmjow's hair as he ducked beneath it. When she attempted to stab him with Suzumebachi he made a grab for her arm that forced the agile assassin to twist aside. In response his own foot lashed out and caught her in the stomach. The impact sent her skidding across the floor, only to recover and perform a set of somersaults that ended with Soifon back on her feet, undaunted and weapon at the ready.

For his part the Espada frowned upon noting the black butterfly-shaped mark which now adorned his ankle. This was a match for one on his forearm and another sprouting on his left shoulder blade. They didn't appear to be slowing him down to any extent, but the way she kept aiming for those same spots left him leery about permitting a second strike.

"Rikujokuro…"

At the first syllable Grimmjow performed sonido, appearing a short distance off in time to watch five petal-shaped energy bands emerge around the spot he had previously occupied only to vanish when nothing presented itself to capture. He growled in annoyance. Lucky his ears were so sharp. This one didn't feel the need to shout her spells the way other death gods did. Anyone else probably would have been trapped at this stage.

-15 MINUTES 'TIL FACILITY TERMINATION-

He glanced around, grinding his teeth in consternation. Well, fuck. I honestly didn't expect the fight to last this long. Time flies when you're having fun, but if this keeps up, I might have to go with Plan B.

"Thinking about running, Grimmjow? Abarai did mention it was your favorite tactic."

A surge of anger flooded through him. "Nah!" he rumbled, stalking slowly forward. "Just wondering how long you plan to fight me with just your first release. Cuz it doesn't seem to be working out too well for you."

Blood stained the white officer's cloak in several places as testament to this. Were it not for how quick she was, he felt certain their fight would have ended in the first minute. Yet the woman persisted in facing him. So this was the Stealth Forces captain, eh? She seemed to have a better grasp for how a deathmatch should play out than Kurosaki at least. Lady didn't mess around. And as much as he appreciated the chance to finally pit himself against a real shinigami captain, he had other aspirations that would require living to see tomorrow.

The woman raised her arm back as if to strike. There came a dull boom, and just like that, she was surrounded by over a dozen copies of herself.

Shit! Gemelos sonido?!

As one the host of copycats launched themselves at him. Grimmjow knew he had only an instant to decide what to do. Though they weren't real, the shadow-images thwarted his ability to determine her location. If she was able to strike one of those black tattoos while he defended against a clone, it could mean the end. What he needed was an indiscriminate multi-directional attack to deal with all of them at once.

And he had one.

Golden stingers streaked towards his heart, eyes, throat, and the marks on his body. In response the Espada opened his mouth and roared!

The detonation that resulted was like an exploding firework magnified by a thousand, loud enough to rupture flesh and crack rock. In the face of this sonic onslaught Soifon's copies vanished, and the slight captain herself was flung back to smash against a wall. The impact left her momentarily dazed. As she slid to the ground, ears ringing and the taste of blood in her mouth, a bone-crushing grip seized the hand which boasted Suzumebachi. She felt her fingers snap. Powerful claws then fisted in the front of her shirt to yank Soifon upright where she dangled before the blue-eyed madman, who studied her with undisguised relish.

"Y'know," Grimmjow hissed, bloody teeth grinding, "I think I'm getting to like–!"

An instinctive sense of danger stopped him. At the same time, the black gauntlet and its poisoned talon vanished from the captain's imprisoned arm in a golden glow only to reappear on her free hand a split-second later. This she drove toward his previously afflicted appendage, and only well-honed reflexes saved him. He released her shirt to seize the weapon before it could penetrate his flesh a second time.

In a flash Soifon's legs came up to wrap around Grimmjow's head. She caught a glimpse of his shocked expression between her thighs before wrenching violently to one side with all the weight and inertia she could claim. There came a grinding snap in the wrist he still held followed by excruciating pain, but this sacrifice caught the Hollow off guard so that he was flung off to one side. Soifon tore away from his grasp, the shattered hand slipped free, and she landed in a crouch.

Meanwhile Jaguerjaques had recovered in midflight and alighted on all fours with the grace of his namesake. Soifon knew at once that he would not make the mistake of talking before finishing her again. And she was now at a distinct disadvantage. The hand that previously held Suzumebachi was effectively crippled, rendering it useless. While ambidextrous and more than skilled enough to continue, this particular opponent was unnervingly fast, enough to match her current state if not outright surpass. Had he not already been injured by Kurosaki's Hollow, no telling what might have happened. There was no guarantee she would be able to administer the requisite fatal strike. It would seem that going bankai, with all its attendant weaknesses, was the only solution for…

A shadow passed over her. Something purple and huge landed between them, only to emit a loud croak before launching itself right at Grimmjow, who in turn yelled and lashed out with blue slashes of his Desgaron.

The attacker was sliced to pieces which collapsed with wet plops. However in the space of a breath these bifurcated segments arose as completely separate yet identical entities, and without hesitation they converged on their astonished target in violent precision.

Soifon found herself momentarily at a loss. Unless she was gravely mistaken, their battle had been interrupted by what appeared to be… giant frogs.

"Pardon the intrusion, Captain," a voice spoke from behind her. "Are you all right?"

Shocked to be taken unawares like this, the Stealth Forces mistress turned to be confronted by a most peculiar sight. For there was revealed Akon, the R&D Bureau's assistant-chief. Wearing a white robe and an eternally flat expression, the horned shinigami regarded her from atop another tremendous amphibian over ten feet tall at the head. While largely frog-like, its skin was a bright turquoise with thin scarlet lines running over it. A great striped black-and-white throat sac took up most of its body, but more peculiar than this, the beast appeared to possess no eyes of any sort. As Soifon watched a great barbed purple tongue licked briefly over those whale-sized lips before retracting back into its mouth, and a shiver went through the beast as it settled its bulk.

Akon slid down to her level and came quickly over. He indicated back towards his mount. "Soifon-taichou, meet Subject 21: Quaolnargn, or 'Tuff Toad' as our Patroness christened him. He's an experimental lifeform designed to kill Captain-level shinigami as part of Project: Deathly Debutante. I decided to bring him out of storage in response to… excuse me…"

So saying he took her arm and drew them both off to one side. Moments later a cerulean Cero went roaring past right where they had previously occupied. It lit the whole environment blue and blew straight through the Tuff Toad, which erupted in a 'pop'.

"Well, that should make things easier."

Akon spoke so nonchalantly it left Soifon too bewildered to even consider retaliation or evasion. As a result, she was treated to an uninterrupted view of what happened next. For where the bloated frog had been, there now loomed at least six new monsters, identical save for different coloring. Some were varying shades of green, one orange, another scarlet. While the Cero began to die out, they launched themselves across the hall. Upon looking in that direction she spied Grimmjow Jaguerjaques now engaged in fighting off some thirty Tuff Toads who pursued him relentlessly about the room. They leapt with astounding agility in attempts to crush their foe, opening jaws to reveal short sharp teeth or sending their spiked tongues flicking out with the force of wrecking balls that shattered the floor and walls with ease. The Espada seemed quite understandably overwhelmed.

"Quaolnargn reproduces through a form of environment-fueled mitosis," Akon supplied to her wealth of unspoken questions. "Spiritual energy directed at him, whether destructive or meant to restrain, is absorbed to produce a new generation, the number of which depends on the amount of power available. Cutting them produces the same result. As you can see, they have no visual senses, instead relying on organic radar emitted from the throat pouch and reflected back onto the skin as touch information. This gives them a 360-degree field of uninterrupted 'vision'. Subject 21 will continue to replicate until his target is overwhelmed or runs out of energy, whichever comes first."

As he spoke, Grimmjow suddenly turned and sped down the hall with the Tuff Toad army in hot pursuit.

"Ah, it seems he's returned to his original objective," the spiky-haired scientist mused. He then rounded on Soifon and produced a syringe filled with a greenish liquid from one pocket. "If you like, I can take care of those injuries before we proceed. Just pull down your pants and…"

Akon casually dodged a kick that would have decapitated him had it connected.

"Understood. Let's give chase, then. I have an idea of where he might be headed. If that's the case, our other ally should already be way ahead of us." He proceeded to jog on by her. "Coming, Captain? There's about ten minutes before we're all blown to Kingdom Come."

Soifon collected herself enough to refrain from further murderous episodes. She noted the red warning alarms still going off before speeding past Akon to complete her mission.

Loly peered around a corner. After a moment came the all-clear, and she darted forward to join Menoly. The two of them crouched behind a suspiciously organic-looking column. The dark-haired arrancar chanced a look down the way. Nothing presented itself, save for the constant throbbing red light that illuminated every inch of the place. All the same, sweat dripped down her brow and stung her eye. Angrily she wiped this sign of insecurity away.

"How the hell does Grimmjow expect us to find this guy?" her partner hissed, edging closer while casting furtive looks about. "We sure didn't get any magic bracelet that points the way to him! How can we even be sure that freaky thing was heading in the right direction? Maybe he just wanted us to follow him around before jumping us."

"Our pesquisa should do the trick." Loly closed her eyes and concentrated. Signals came in response, resounding within her soul. Back the way they came was Grimmjow, and what could only be a high-ranking shinigami, but for some reason she couldn't read anything off the human's Hollow. Could it be Jaguerjaques had managed to kill him? She found that idea hard to swallow. The sheer force of its strength made her throat clench even now.

But that would have to wait. Up ahead a response had come back from a large concentration of soul energy. That had to be it. How many other captain-level shinigami could be in this place?

"Found him. Come on." With that she crept swiftly down the hall, dagger drawn and eyes raking the way ahead for signs of an ambush. Menoly followed with her own weapon at the ready. So far they hadn't been faced with any resistance, yet in spite of this they both knew their lives were imperiled. If that countdown was any indication, this place was going bye-bye in under 15 minutes. Before that happened they would need to finish the job and get out of here… assuming there was still a way out. Grimmjow would just have to look after himself.

After a few moments the corridor ended at what looked to be a door so tall its heights were lost in the gloom of the ceiling. There looked to be a large 'X' emblazoned on it. The Hollow pair approached.

There came a disturbing squelching sound, followed by a great golden eye opening up at each arm of the cross. Both girls tensed in preparation to defend themselves as those disembodied orbs focused in on them. However before Loly could consider their response, a slight pressure drew her attention down to her hand. There the ring she had been given was undergoing some kind of reaction. The plates shifted from black to white in a complicated pattern.

At the same time, though, the eyes upon the door spun in counterpoint to this dance, until finally they drew down the arms of the X to merge into one at the center, their barred pupils converging into a smaller 'x'. Without a sound the door slid open.

Glancing back meaningfully at Menoly, they stole in together. The first thing she noticed was that there didn't seem to be an alarm in here. The place was huge, with green walls and a floor covered in strange glowing lines that looked to converge at a big pointed crystal near the center of the room. Loly spared this odd setup only a glance before slipping past. There didn't appear to be any spiritual energy she could detect coming from the rock, nor did it respond to their presence.

No one else was around. All the same, she got the feeling they were being watched. As she digested this disturbing sensation, she noticed Menoly edging closer to the lone monolith.

"Don't touch it. It's not real."

The sandy-haired Hollow threw a sharp look at her partner. "How do you know?"

"I can feel it through the ground." Loly tapped a foot against the floor. "This thing's got no weight. It's just an illusion. Probably a trap."

That feeling of being watched was growing stronger by the second. Menoly cast a nervous look over one shoulder before turning her attention back to the seemingly solid spire. "Should we look for a way out?"

"With the whole place on lockdown? What good would that do?"

"Better than sitting around waiting for somebody to show up and kill us!"

As they stood debating, something stirred in the chamber that escaped their notice. A small portion of the wall off to one side bulged forward before shivering into paper-thin pieces. Revealed beneath was a human hand. It slid over to tap out a sequence on the wall before slipping back under the same filmy substance, disappearing in the process.

A second later a previously unseen door slid open. Both arrancar spun about and spotted the empty black frame. Nothing could be discerned of what lay within.

"Who's there?" Loly demanded. "Show yourself!"

Not a sound came in response. They shared a glance.

"Go check it out."

"Why me?"

"One of us has to."

"Then volunteer yourself, because I'm not going in there!"

"Stop being such a coward!"

"Why don't you show me how?"

"I'm not about to–!"

In the darkness, something moved.

The feuding pair froze upon hearing it. After a time when nothing more happened they began to argue again.

"We're running out of time! You check out whatever's in there and I'll investigate out here. If anything happens…"

"I'll have to take off my sombra to fight! So they'll be able to sense me and not you! Think I'm stupid?"

"What does it matter if they do? The whole place is going to explode at any minute!"

"So I'm not dying one second sooner than I have to."

"We're already dea…! Look, this isn't getting us anywhere. We'll each take off our sombras. That way if anything happens it's on both our heads. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

They did so. For a few moments the two Hollows stared at one another, as though expecting something terrible to take place as a result. When this did not prove to be the case they each gave a nervous laugh.

"Arrancar presence detected…"

Their faces fell. Loly's lone eye darted towards the darkened opening from which this dry pronouncement came, drawing her weapon instinctively. Menoly did the same. Together they watched in a sort of frantic fascination for what might come next. Both held their breath.

"…Initiating the CY-X9500 Anti-Arrancar offensive system."

A small red glow burned within the stygian blackness.

"Affirmative…"

Something pink flashed between them. When Menoly looked down, it was just in time to watch Loly's severed hand hit the floor, still clutching her dagger.

There was no time to take this in as a maelstrom of fire roared forth, sending them scrambling for cover. What came out of the door next sent sheer terror straight into their hearts, and this nightmare wasted no time continuing its assault, launching missiles and initiating bullet hell from the weapon attached to its arm.

When someplace new greeted him, Renji could hardly contain his joy.

He stumbled forward a few steps and drew to a halt. Turning slowly in one spot the weary survivor surveyed his surroundings with an eager laugh. The door through which he had passed was not in evidence. Instead the captain found himself at the center of an enormous courtyard. Walls still rose on all sides like before, but noticeably higher, stretching far up to form rectangular parapets overhead. The black starless sky was visible as a jagged rectangle.

Am I hallucinating? Could this be the end?

Renji, can you…

… hear us?

With a shout of joy he looked down at Zabimaru in his hand. You guys! I've never been happier to hear your voices! What gives?

Her trial is nearing…

…its end. She has consented to…

… unbind us for the final battle.

Renji frowned and cast a searching look about. Whatever comfort he might have felt at escaping the maze did not last long. No, actually, escape wasn't the right word. This was just the next stage in the torture game. Wonder how Benihime likes to finish things off?

When nothing obviously life-threatening presented itself he decided to do some investigating. A small casting of Shakuho produced a red fireball, to his immense relief. He waved it away without bothering to see if blasting his way clear was an option. No doubt Benihime still had the rules stacked in her favor.

After assuring himself of the new environment, Abarai flopped down and crossed his arms, closing his eyes with head dipped forward. Access to spirit powers was a plus; unfortunately, he still remained dreadfully weak from the experience of running the maze. In total he had guessed five times incorrectly and suffered the price. If he was any judge, his strength currently stood at less than half. No way to tell how long he might have been in here, but his body ached with residual pain, and he dearly appreciated this chance to catch a breath. Something told him the worst was yet to come.

He's… here.

Hearing the voices of Zabimaru speak as one momentarily shocked Renji. However this was nothing compared to what he felt upon opening his eyes to find Ichigo's Hollow now standing in the chamber. Shit! He was in here too?!

The white-skinned horror spotted him immediately. Even as it moved to leap forward the captain had already found his feet, zanpakutō in shikai and the command for bankai on his lips.

Their impending confrontation was thwarted by the reappearance of the crimson mist, which rose noiselessly from the floor to coil up around their waists. Each fighter felt his muscles lock tight with no regard for any amount of struggle. Unable to even scream in frustration, they were forced to simply stare at one another with only a few meters of distance between them.

While trapped in this position, Renji perceived a disturbance in the mist. It looked to be swirling slowly around them. If his imagination wasn't playing tricks on him, the whole sluggish mass was rotating about a single point in the room.

As he watched, something nearby took a deep breath.

He heard this clearly, and the realization that they were not alone made Renji's blood run cold. Dammit, I was so surprised to see that albino creep I forgot he's not the worst thing in here!

Right then the fog bulged upwards at the center. Deep, raspy breathing now accompanied every beat of his pounding heart. The swirling vortex grew faster and faster, until finally the protrusion receded to either side like a lanced boil.

In that cleared space there arose the pursuer from the labyrinth.

It stood hunched over yet remained ten feet tall even in that position. Naked, the body on display bore a resemblance to humanity, only twisted and grotesque. Its skin was a sickly sallow color with tufts of coarse bleached hair sprouting in patches. White stripes bedecked the back and undersides of arms and legs reminiscent of a tiger's pelt, and it was festooned in bumpy pustules. The way it twitched and flexed seemed to indicate these blemishes were causing intense irritation. Ropy muscles stood out against its hide with every movement. A tangled mess of pale hair fell to the middle of its back. Being partially submerged in the bloody foam and turned away from them, nothing more could be made out. Yet what he saw was enough to make Renji glad this thing had not caught him in those constrained corridors.

The whirlpool ceased its movement. In a rush the whole mass simply flowed inward to be absorbed by the immobile monster. It stood up straight, flinging its head back as the process continued. Those mighty arms lifted beseechingly towards the empty heavens. Finally not a shred of the mist remained, yet Renji and the Hollow found themselves still unable to move. They could only watch as the hunter turned to face them fully.

Gaunt cheeks lent the creature a half-starved appearance. Drool dripped past thick purple lips pulled back from short rotten fangs which it clenched so hard the muscles showed in its jaws. Its nose was squashed and bat-like, and the eyes were shiny black. It trembled when it saw the two captives, as though straining to leap forward and rip them limb from limb.

A heavy sigh filled their ears. Renji felt his head jerk upwards, as did the two others. Far above them, against the lightless sky, the mask of Benihime hung huge and threatening.

'Now we shall see,' the spirit of this world spoke in a haunting whisper. 'Which will it be? The Lady…' here her face twisted in a mocking smirk, 'or the Tiger? Someone must die.'

"URAHARA!" Renji screamed. "IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, DO SOMETHING!"

Benihime simply laughed in response. The Tiger, as Renji now thought of it, panted and whipped its head from side to side, sending shaggy yellow hair flying. In desperation he tried again. "KISUKE! MAKE HER STOP! URA–!"

His voice cut off.

There came no warning. The next thing he knew, the Tiger was loose and coming straight at them. The Hollow screamed before flinging itself at that towering terror, and the beasts met in a collision of primal ferocity.

But Renji made no move to defend himself or attack. He remained in that spot, Zabimaru held slackly in one hand. For a brief time in that maddening space he could conceive of no other option. He was simply too stunned.

It can't be. Zabimaru, tell me I'm wrong.

Do not falter now. Your life…

…means nothing to either of them. You must…

…win or die.

Renji Abarai raised his sword arm woodenly, the blade eager to be let loose. He took a shivering breath and mouthed the name of his bankai. Hihō Zabimaru emerged in a swell of spirit power screaming its war cry. The sound caused his heart to pound, and he roared aloud in shared determination to emerge triumphant. Renji sent the giant serpent whip soaring at those two monsters. The Hollow and the Tiger both sprang aside to avoid his zanpakutō's charge. As it landed, the yellow-haired giant turned cold onyx eyes upon him. The sight made his gorge rise.

Damn you, Benihime. How could you do this?

He's your master!

A moment later the thing was springing towards him, and the Crimson Princess' game of death began in full.

Just when she thought he might have stabilized, Ichigo reared up and vomited blood into Nanao's face.

She yanked her glasses off and nothing more. Without bothering to so much as wipe herself clean, the enchantress pressed her palms against his shuddering chest and mouthed a quick healing charm.

Why is this happening?!

For almost twenty minutes her student had been suffering what looked to be seizures of such violence they were causing internal damage to his body. Yet try as she might, her magic couldn't seem to locate the source and repair it. How much longer could he last?

Nanao, I can't find him!

What?! Why the hell NOT?! It's his zanpakutō, it should be in there SOMEWHERE!

Don't yell, please! Zangetsu's not responding to me, that's all I know! Is he getting worse? Should we call a doctor?

I'm sorry, Ureshii. I know you're doing all you can. We just need to keep watch over him until help arrives.

She gazed down at the boy's sickly pallor and blood-spattered chin. Doing so reminded her of her own condition. Hurriedly Nanao wiped a sleeve down her face, revolted by the coppery tang in her nose and mouth. As a shinigami she had assuredly seen living beings die before, but this time it was someone she knew. Which made everything so much worse.

"NANAO!"

The woman looked up and felt relief wash over her. Ichigo's father Isshin Kurosaki was hastily scrambling down the ladder leading into this unearthly zone. He nearly fell once or twice, one hand being preoccupied holding onto a large medical kit. When he finally made it to the bottom the wild-eyed parent came racing over to drop down beside his son.

Dr. Kurosaki wasted no time in checking Ichigo's vitals. He pulled open the unconscious youth's eyelids, and after assuring himself of the situation, opened the kit and began rifling efficiently through its contents. "How much blood would you say he's lost?" the physician demanded in a haggard voice.

Nanao swallowed, unnerved at seeing this normally carefree soul so shaken. "A liter, maybe two. I can't be certain."

"Hold this." He held out a full bag of blood. She took it without question. Isshin then bent to wind a rubber band tight around the teen's arm. Afterwards he busied himself hooking a needle up to the blood bag. The time it took him to find a vein to insert it into nearly made her scream in frustration, but at last it was done. The former captain leaned back, hands held at the ready as though preparing to leap forward should it be required.

When nothing further happened for several seconds, he turned to regard the pale-faced scholar. "Thanks."

"Heron Squad has been notified and is sending a team of their best healers." He didn't react to this news in the slightest. Ise then lapsed into silence, wishing she could think of something reassuring to offer and feeling ridiculous for not being able to. This situation made her want to scream. Even were she not a social maladroit, what could you say to a man when his son was bleeding out before him? "Have you heard from Orihime?" she finally asked just to keep the conversation moving.

He shook his head and went back to his medical supplies. Removing a small glass vial, the doctor slid a hypodermic needle from its pack and began to fill it. "I managed to get in touch with Ryūken. He's got an emergency room prepped and waiting. Can you alter this room so we don't have to get him up the stairs?" Nanao briefly took in the nebulous terrain of shifting colors before giving an assured nod. "Alright. Hold off on that for a minute. I might need you to perform healing on him again. In the meantime, what do we know?"

"He was behaving as though something was causing him discomfort for a little while, when all of a sudden he just started… bleeding through his skin."

A few taps followed by squirting out a little liquid, and then he was slipping the hypo into the plastic tube attached to his son's arm. Isshin then unrolled a blanket which he draped over Ichigo's chest and lower body to keep him warm. Such mundane medical treatment almost left her hypnotized, and Nanao had to pull herself back to continue. "I couldn't detect any sign of what might be causing it, whether externally or otherwise. But if I had to give a diagnosis, this appears similar to what humans experience when they're attacked by Hollows: severe injuries to the soul which automatically manifest in the body. Only as far as I can tell, his soul hasn't left its earthly vessel."

Given the chance to analyze the situation from a detached perspective lent her some degree of reassurance. Like if they could formulate a conclusion as to the cause of this dilemma it might give them a better chance of beating it. As she spoke Isshin was checking Ichigo's vital signs again. For lack of anything better to say, Nanao asked, "Do… do you concur, sir?"

"It's a valid explanation." The medic spared her a glance and gestured down at their recumbent patient. "Can you look after him again?"

Nanao almost found herself asking a rather obvious question. Being a much more powerful shinigami, wouldn't Isshin himself be more suited to any form of magical healing? However something about the way he looked right now told her this was not the time to ask. And from a logical standpoint, it made sense for them to treat this situation from as many angles as possible. So while he provided the physical first aid, she would administer a treatment of the soul.

She stood and crossed over to stand by Ichigo's head. The determined spellcaster knelt down, looking to the doctor for confirmation. He nodded in acquiescence. Gently, alert to any possible sign of distress, Nanao Ise lifted the boy's russet top and rested it in her lap. She then bent to channel more of her protective power into him.

He looks so beautiful, really. So pale. It highlights his hair.

Hush. Don't distract me.

Nanao, I'm scared. Is he going to die?

Death is not the end, Ureshii Onnanoko. We know that better than anyone.

But still, you don't want him to.

… No. You're right.

Should we call Rukia now?

Not yet. Not until we have better news.

This seemed to settle the anxious spirit. A small measure of comfort stole over Nanao, as though someone had wrapped warm arms around her. Grateful for this expression of support from her zanpakutō, she settled back in to wait.

When Ichigo's arm snapped, Nanao actually cried out.

Ichigo's Hollow swung a vicious backhand, only to have it caught by the Tiger with no more effort than if it were handling a newborn child. Before the Hollow could free itself the looming ogre twisted its wrist so violently bones snapped like twigs. A scream tore from those white lips, orange eyes wide with panic, before its attacker planted a kick to its stomach that sent the madman flying.

Renji watched all this slumped back against a wall where he had been flung earlier. The impact felt like his skull cracked, leaving him dazed. Aching knees gave out as he slumped to the floor shuddering.

We're seriously going to die.

The battered warrior's breath caught in his throat as the Tiger spun about and trained eerie shining eyes upon him. Moments later wicked curved talons were streaking to tear out his heart. Zabimaru's vertebrae dropped between them before the blow could connect. For a heartbeat he was safe. Then the barrier simply exploded into shards of bone, and it was coming for him again. Renji shrieked deliriously.

The Hollow chose this moment to rejoin the fray. It registered as little more than a white blur, yet in spite of this, the Tiger proved quicker. As Ichigo's Hollow swooped in, their opponent had already counterattacked, delivering an elbow to the demon's gut so fast Renji could hardly believe his senses. It carried through with this movement to bear the pale horror to the ground with a dull smack, causing his unlikely ally to convulse like a smashed insect and cough up blood.

This momentary distraction gave Abarai a chance to try and collect himself. Battered and broken beyond belief, he assessed the battlefield. Zabimaru lay in segments scattered all around. He had fired his Baboon Bone Cannon in a panic when it seemed nothing else could save his life, heedless of the resulting loss of mobility. For all the good that did. The Tiger proved too swift, avoiding his blast with ease. It was possible to still manipulate the vertebrae individually, but it would take time before his spiritual energy could recover to the point where the bankai could fuse itself back together in full. By then they would probably be dead. His dwindling reserves were almost tapped. He had taken too much damage, while their adversary was still going strong.

As if to emphasize this, the Tiger grasped the Hollow by a leg and lifted it into the air before proceeding to slam it against the floor again and again in a pitched tantrum of violence. Dark blood spattered the stone as Ichigo's nemesis screeched in wordless pain. Though he shook from weakness, Renji pushed back against the wall until he had found his feet. Dizzily he could do nothing but watch the brutality taking place. I've got nothing left.

His ears pricked upon hearing unearthly laughter emanating overhead. It seemed Benihime was enjoying the show. The sound made his teeth grind, and he found new strength born from hatred.

"SHAKUHŌ!"

Scarlet fire streaked for the striped giant's head. Before it had even traveled halfway there, the Tiger swung the howling Hollow like a club to strike the incoming fireball and send it soaring away. It then pitched its living weapon in a burning heap before focusing on Renji, who had retreated to a safe distance. Panting and snorting, the diseased horror clenched its teeth and launched itself at him.

But the young brawler was already reaching into his robe, coming out with a handful of silver tubes. These he flung desperately at the enemy even as it surged forth. They were so close he could swear he saw his own fearful face reflected in those dead eyes.

In the next instant, the Tiger was completely encased within a smooth grey dome with a five-pointed pentagram engraved upon its surface. Renji stumbled back and sank to his knees, gasping in sweet lungfuls of air. Sure glad I bummed those off Ishida after our time fighting in Hueco Mundo. Means I didn't have to use up my own spiritual energy trying to contain this sucker. At least now I've got a chance to think. But it won't last long, considering the strength of this opponent.

Friend or…

… foe, Renji?

Yeah. I finally get it. I've figured out how her bankai works. First it weakens the victim. Hence the maze, although that in and of itself was savage enough. Those trap doors… choose wrong and they steal a portion of your spirit power. Too many incorrect guesses, and she's got the majority of your energy bled away. Then, should you make it to the end without being caught, all the power stolen by Benihime gets funneled into her champion. Her executioner.

Urahara.

The Tiger (Tora-Urahara… Torahara?) still retained a phenomenal degree of combat skill. Renji remembered Soifon mentioning to him once that Urahara had been in charge of the now defunct Maggot's Nest prior to his investiture as Captain of Squad 12. That meant he had world-class skills in unarmed combat. It showed. Funny, really; the one thing in that massive brain he still had access to. In this state, Urahara moved like an animal, in quick bursts followed by holding perfectly still to conserve energy and prepare for the next attack, but he fought with his entire body. Kind of like how Yumichika used to during their one-sided sparring sessions.

Was Kisuke aware? Did he know what he was doing? And more importantly, why the hell did no one ever warn me about him?!

Renji had never heard of anything like this before. A bankai that robbed its wielder of all control, reducing him to the level of a bloodthirsty beast? What kind of screwed-up final move was that? He could see the appeal in objective terms. When faced with an overwhelming number of opponents, you could turn their own strength against them. The more material at hand, the more juice Benihime could pump into her feral gladiator. It was brilliant really.

Only problem was, it didn't discriminate. Enemy or ally, if you got caught in this place, you became a target. And when the time came, there was no use attempting to reason with your attacker. Kisuke Urahara, the genius, the intellectual titan who prided himself on coming up with fantastic solutions to any problem; all that had been stripped away, leaving behind a force of murder that knew only how to kill.

Yet Renji couldn't help but give the devil her due. Across the way, Ichigo's Hollow was starting to rise. When faced with an otherwise unbeatable adversary like that, who wouldn't want to stack the odds in their favor? In the very recent past, he had watched in despair as that maniac went toe-to-toe with a vasto lorde. And while it certainly hadn't come out on top in that fight, in its place Abarai wouldn't have lasted a second. The Hollow had taken the brunt of the damage in this battle due to being more gung-ho about attacking. That regenerative ability served it well; otherwise it probably would have been bleeding out dead on the floor by now. No doubt the Hollow had also been drained from running the maze, making it a more believable task of exterminating it. One-on-one, these two might just kill each other.

In fact, if I let them…

"Oh, really, Renji?"

Shut up.

"Is that how you intend to win the day? Rukia might have a word or two to say about this plan of yours."

She's got nothing to do with it. And I don't even know if killing the Hollow would have any effect on Ichigo. I'm fighting for my life here! It's them or me!

"What a dilemma. Sounds familiar, actually. Don't you think the same fancy crossed my mind in that final battle? If I hesitated for just a few precious moments, Ulquiorra could have torn Ichigo's head off. Then we finish him, and afterwards I console the poor bereft princess, letting her know how sorry I am, and that I'm there for her, and how I've secretly yearned for her all this time so that now finally we can be together…"

Before them, the gray shield wall shuddered as though struck by a heavy blow. Cracks appeared all over the surface. It shook once more, and then a fist plowed through as if it were cheap ceramic. Renji called over several of Zabimaru's smaller segments and began sliding them up his arms to form greaves, ignoring the pain from his injuries. Every bit of defense helped.

I could die.

"I did die. What matters is how I did it."

Screw off, you're just a figment of my imagination!

"Which means you're arguing with yourself. I wonder what aspect of your psyche I represent, hmm? Certainly something pretty. Don't you dare do me a disservice by imagining otherwise, Renji."

What am I supposed to do? It's too fast, too strong. So what then, maybe appeal to Benihime? He cast a quick glance skyward. No. Not that one. She's enjoying this too much, watching us fight for our lives. The dirty scheming bi–!

By now the Hollow had crawled to its feet. Those terrible wounds were already halfway healed. The fire from Renji's attack had gone out. Ichigo's dark side turned murderous orange eyes upon him. "You pineapple ass-clown, I'll take your fucking–"

"Are you seriously that dumb?!" Renji yelled back before it could finish. "You think either of us stands a chance against that thing alone? We've gotta hit it together!"

The dome exploded, upon which Torahara was loose and ravening for their blood. It didn't speak, or even growl. It just looked at them. Fearfully Renji stared right back. No more Quincy gimmicks left. I can't even tell if we've hurt him at all.

Think. Think of a plan. You've come up with some good ones in the past. But then I had friends helping me. Now… I've got nothing. Just waiting to see which of us dies first.

'Time is running out, my pets.'

Benihime's softly spoken words had an unnerving effect on Torahara. The beast crouched down on its haunches and cast a look upwards. Something like a whine emerged from its throat. It shuddered as though in pain. Noting this opportunity, Renji slowly got to his feet.

Next thing he knew a foot plowed into his side. He could feel ribs snapping, and blood burst from his nose. The battered fighter rolled end over end across the floor to land in a quivering heap. He vomited the contents of his stomach and other things less mentionable, dark red fluid blending with the polished stones. Torahara reared over him an instant later and brought both claws down, nails raking across his back in an effort to lay him open. But to Renji's disbelief, they failed to penetrate the furred mantle around his shoulders. The creature snorted as though in frustration. It hooked a foot under him and rolled its victim onto his back before raising an arm to strike once more.

"You know… me…"

Torahara paused.

Panting in and out, Abarai stared at that ruin of a face. "C'mon," he gasped. "It's me… Renji. The freeloader? I know you're… in there!" A hacking cough that tasted of copper interrupted him, but he angrily swallowed the bitter tang down. "You're no… animal. Goddammit, you're… Kisuke Urahara! You just gonna… let some crazy zanpakutō… take that away from you?!"

He could see Benihime's frown from here. As if sensing her displeasure, the Tiger shook its head with a snort. Reaching down, it grasped his head in both hands. Renji saw the muscles in its arms flex with enough force to crush his skull like a grape.

This is it. This is how I go…

Thoughts rose unbidden with oncoming death. Unfulfilled dreams, bitter regrets, cherished hopes. His whole existence stretching away before him… a dream…

Renji…

About to squeeze his brains out, Torahara flinched as the captain's hands snapped up to catch it by the wrists. They looked at one another, warrior to beast, and in that instant, neither of their eyes were human. Watching this even Benihime appeared taken aback.

'Who dares to interfere in our game?!'

A voice in no way resembling Renji's responded from his mouth.

"ONSHOKU BANDA NO MORI."

In response to this deathly curse there suddenly sprang from the ground a horde of towering black shadows to ring about the pair. These faceless apparitions lifted spindly arms and brought them smashing down upon the Tiger with savage force. It lurched under the force of this onslaught, battered by a hundred angry limbs without cease.

The avalanche of destructive power continued to rock the savage monster. In desperation it let go of its victim, whose grip had also come free. Torahara reared upright, flailing at the spectral assault. Its arms passed straight through those withering branches with no visible effect. This seeming impermanence was not evident otherwise, as they continued to beat the beast with a fury that rivalled nature itself.

"KAGERO KYUDEN."

In an eye-blink the shadows warped and became strands of thick white webbing. These formed a snare that quickly bound the man-monster in their grip. Hanging over the ground, it struggled mightily, ripping at the lines with teeth and claws in a frenzied effort to be free.

There came a roar, and then the Hollow was plummeting towards them. It held aloft one of the enormous segments of Hihō Zabimaru. A great blade of bone jutted from the tube. Without hesitation it dropped down and drove this improvised weapon in between the Tiger's shoulder blades. Red blood burst out as the spear erupted from its chest, splashing against the blank-eyed Renji's face. He gasped and coughed…

… live, my dear…

Sputtering, the bewildered shinigami came back to himself. He stared without comprehension at what was taking place. When did I…?

At the same time the Cobweb Palace vanished. The Tiger dropped to the ground, and instinctively he rolled to get out of its way. As soon as he came to a stop the effort of doing so became plain. Every muscle was screaming with exhaustion. Renji tried to stand and failed. Only a few feet away the Hollow had let go of its tool and grabbed a handful of Torahara's yellow mane. It yanked backward, pulling the Tiger's head up, and giving a bloodthirsty laugh it began pounding its free fist furiously against those brutish features with unrestrained glee.

For all its primitive nature, Torahara acted swiftly. It grasped the bloodied shaft emerging from its pectorals and snapped it with ease before plunging the blade over its shoulder, catching the Hollow in the stomach. The white nemesis shouted in rage and pain before falling off its perch. Taking advantage of this, Torahara reached back to take hold of the giant cylinder and yanked it loose with a violent lurch.

Expecting a renewed assault, Renji was surprised when the Tiger just stood there, hunched over and trembling. A queer sort of clarity came upon him. It seemed to be having difficulty breathing; must have pierced a lung. And there was blood coming from its nose and mouth. Those rotten fangs clenched tightly as the beast strove to collect itself. They had finally managed to wound it at long last.

But not nearly enough. This became apparent when the Tiger whipped around and dove for the Hollow. Those long ropy arms lashed out and seized hold of its pasty neck. As they bore one another to the ground the Hollow managed to pull out the bone knife which it then began stabbing into Torahara's arm until its yellow hide turned red. This seemed to cause the murderous animal no concern as it continued to choke the life from its prey, whose orange eyes were starting to bulge in panic. The Tiger gurgled wordlessly while grinding its bloody teeth together. Seeing his erstwhile ally in mortal danger, Renji sought to crawl towards them without success.

Renji…!

… grab on!

His attention turned in time to see the great skull of Hihō Zabimaru flying towards him. Still unmoored from the rest of its body, the severed head soared like a missile. Renji didn't question. He simply reached out a hand, and caught hold of the snake's lower jaw as it went speeding by. They streaked through the air on a beeline towards the two wicked creatures struggling to kill one another.

Instinct still reigned in the Tiger's world. As that bone bullet streaked in, the abomination released one hand and without even turning its head to look, lashed out with a backhand blow that swatted Zabimaru away like a bothersome fly. It then returned to strangling the Hollow.

Yet Renji had seen it coming. Even as the blow connected he was letting go, and fell to land right on that broad naked back. His fingers tangled in a thick mass of blond hair to keep from sliding off. For a moment the dazed fighter didn't know what to do next. He simply hung there, his cheek resting against that diseased hide as he struggled to keep from passing out. In doing so, Renji found himself staring straight into the eyes of the baboon skull mask that adorned his left shoulder.

I have…

… an idea.

Before he knew it Renji was crawling up that loathsome spine hand over fist. The Tiger shivered slightly but gave no other sign of noticing his presence. Perhaps it deemed him too weak to pose a threat, preferring to focus on Ichigo's Hollow. As a result in mere seconds Renji found himself braced against its shoulder blades.

With a burst of strength, he then tore off the furred mantle from his shoulders, mask and all, and swung it around to wrap tight against the Tiger's face and chin. Renji pulled back, digging his knees in, muscles locked and veins standing out in his neck.

Nothing happened. The Tiger continued to focus blindly on choking the Hollow, and for a few seconds he despaired that this was even going to work. Dammit all, it's got to breathe, doesn't it?! C'MON, TELL ME YOU NEED TO BREATHE!

Then its head shook ever so slightly. A moment later Torahara lurched back and forth rapidly, as though trying to buck him off. Grimly Renji held on, arms shaking, imagining its lungs filling up with blood and no air. The Hollow's wild blows were diminishing as it fought to breathe to no avail. Only now the one throttling it was thrashing from side to side, its gruesome visage covered by the suffocating pelt.

All of a sudden the Tiger let one hand free and reached up to tear frantically at the impermeable wrap. Its claws failed to penetrate that armored fur once more, preventing it from getting any sort of hold. When it brushed against the bone mask, it jerked its hand away as though burned. The Tiger sought to bite through with no success. When this failed Torahara gave up and instead reached over one shoulder for Renji to drag him off. He dodged as best he could, fighting to retain his hold and not be caught, staring down at the dying Hollow below. Like this, face filled with fear, it reminded him so much of Ichigo.

Whatever you can do, man, do it now.

Out of nowhere Torahara let go of the Hollow completely and lifted its other arm, intending to seek out Renji. However even as a great gasp of air came from the freed doppelganger's throat, it reached up and grabbed hold of the Tiger's wrist, preventing it from catching him. The Hollow wrapped its arms around that huge limb and went so far as to sink in its black teeth to keep from being shaken free. At the same time it kicked wildly at the behemoth's chest and stomach with all its remaining power.

Torahara lurched upright, dragging Ichigo's Hollow with it. The Tiger waved its arm in an unsuccessful attempt to dislodge this new assailant. Meanwhile Renji did not let up. He couldn't do anything else, yet he was determined to keep at it for as long as he was alive. Because I think it's working…

The Tiger began to run awkwardly backwards in a zig-zagging pattern while still striving to snatch Renji. It looked to be aiming to smash him against a wall. But as it did so, one knee suddenly buckled, and it fell heavily to its side. There the cruel killer flailed and scrabbled madly in an effort to rise, beating the Hollow against the ground as it did. Having one arm trapped and no vision kept Torahara from regaining its balance enough to get back on its feet. It rolled across the floor, winding up on its back where it snapped both legs up and down, arching its spine to lift itself off the ground in an effort to crush Renji.

He didn't even notice the agony of being battered and cracked against hard stone. All the tattooed fighter's senses were focused on the spasmodic jerking he could feel through the Tiger's frame. Pushed past any recognition of torment, his body had gone cold as ice. In spite of this his frozen fingers remained dug into the pelt, pulling it back to ensure this wicked animal did not draw in air. Absolutely nothing else mattered.

Kill it.

Kill Urahara.

There's no other way.

The efforts to smash him began to slow. Torahara gave a half-hearted jerk of its heels that barely left the earth. It stopped moving and just lay there shivering, which quickly became a shudder, a terrible jerking of arms and legs. Its body pressed against Renji's. He could swear he heard a strange rattling noise from deep within its chest.

At last the giant lay still.

Could be a trick. Make sure he's dead before stopping. Kill him the way he would have me. I know what I'm doing. No one can blame me for this. I'm not at fault here.

No, you are…

… not.

"But does that make this any less grotesque, Renji-kun?"

Staring up at the sky, the young man finally realized he was crying. He spied Benihime watching them, seemingly unmoved by what was taking place to her master.

Don't be like that monster. Don't let her win.

With that, he pulled the wrap loose.

For a while all three of them just lay there, lacking the means to accomplish anything else. Renji felt the Tiger's weight atop him. He could not tell if it was alive or dead.

"Breathe," he murmured weakly, almost like an admonition.

Nothing.

Then a gasp, very quick, followed by another. And finally Torahara sucked in a huge swallow of air before subsiding to lie panting helplessly splayed out on the floor.

'Enough.'

A soft white mist spilled from every side of the room. No more than ankle high, it swept over the three combatants. That sense of coldness passed from Renji. He rose to his knees without effort, barely aware of having done so. Torahara and the Hollow did the same until all three of them were in a line facing the same way. Abarai stared dully straight ahead. Wonder what happens next.

He got his answer when Benihime appeared before them. Still a huge death mask with empty eyes and mouth, she now boasted a pair of hands larger than the Tiger that hung to either side of her face. On that crimson visage there appeared a distasteful frown.

'This will not suffice.'

Renji heard something like a whimper from the Tiger on his left. Benihime glanced at him disdainfully.

'You have failed again, boy. A death has not been provided. So it falls to us. Which of you will it be?'

He couldn't seem to move his head, but by the sound of it, Torahara was clearly afraid. Would she really kill her own wielder? If anyone's crazy enough to do it, it's her. This actually made him pity the cursed wretch even more. However when Benihime turned her empty sockets on him, this sensation was immediately replaced with fear.

'As for you… we made the rules of our game quite clear. Yet you scorned our generosity.'

"Generosity?" he managed, surprised to find he could speak.

'Indeed. We could have simply killed you outright. Yet we gave you a chance to earn your future. And you threw it back in our face by daring to show mercy.' The look on her beautiful features was utterly chilling. 'Only we determine who receives that favor. You have laid unworthy hands on what is ours by right. Worse still, you permitted foreign interference. Do you deny that you are guilty of these crimes?'

Renji didn't trust himself to speak. Foreign interference? What did that mean? He had no idea how to respond. Perhaps recognizing this, Benihime paused, a sly smile toying about her lips. She then swung about to the kneeling Hollow at the other end of the line. The relief he felt at not being the focus of her attention made Renji shudder.

'And does this sad remainder of a child have anything to add?'

At that moment, Abarai knew exactly what was going to happen next, certain as the sun rising in the morning. Instinctively he drew breath to object before it could…

"Fuck off, bitch."

Too late.

Ichigo, you mouthy teenage punk.

"As soon as I get free, I'm gonna fucking kill you, that dipshit Urahara, and anyone else I can find for putting me through this shit! I will murder the whole cock-sucking lot of–!"

Benihime's eyes narrowed as this vile diatribe wore on, lips pursing. Beside him the Tiger quailed visibly. Even Renji could tell something truly awful was about to take place.

"Couldn't happen to a more deserving fellow!"

No, I can't let this…

It's out of your…

… hands, brother.

Even as Zabimaru spoke, Benihime's hands flashed to either side of the ranting demon, encompassing it between her palms. She smiled gently, like a mother would. The sight even gave the Hollow pause.

'Our choice is made.'

A red globe of energy emerged to completely encase the heartless soul. Its arms and legs whipped out suddenly to hang spread-eagled in midair. Renji felt his head turn to look against his will.

Moments later a scream ripped the air without stop. Within that circle, the Hollow's body swelled like an engorged hog. White skin split in lurid tears from this sudden increase of pressure as it bloated up to obscene proportions. Blood squirted out in every direction, but none of it escaped the sphere. The face grew unrecognizable, eyes enveloped in overinflated flesh, cheeks puffing out to resemble a chipmunk before they simply popped. The Hollow's shrieks became a low hooting gurgle.

Benihime slowly rotated her hands in opposite directions. Doing so caused the Hollow's outstretched limbs to twist as though they were made of cloth. The sound of tearing meat and snapping bone was horrifically audible to Renji's ears. And still it continued to expand even further, whole body rupturing in every direction, all while remaining alive. His empty stomach gagged at the sight. Renji found himself praying this same fate did not befall him. For mercy's sake, someone make it stop!

But it didn't. The barbaric execution went on, when suddenly Ichigo's Hollow sucked in a breath through its ruined mouth and roared out…

"CUT THE CORD!"

It fell to screaming again after that, and Renji could do nothing but watch.

Sweating, the Vizard regarded the golden thread wrapped around his fingers intently. This didn't make any sense. The Hollow had been growing weaker by the minute. Just what was going on? It shouldn't have encountered an opponent that difficult. How could anyone currently in Soul Society pose a threat to it? Maybe Zaraki at full power, but even then…

He threw a sharp look over at the seneschal. The sneaky old fart was seated with hands tucked into his sleeves, eyes closed as though asleep. Suspicion rose at the back of his mind. Was this all a scheme they concocted? Could I be in danger?

-You're a dead man, king. In more ways than one. Best make a run for it now before they decide to spring the trap!-

No. I'm just being paranoid. There's no one who can defeat the Hollow. I can't leave before the mission is complete. I just have to wait and…

-CUT THE CORD!-

The terror and pain in that psychic wail proved so overwhelming it actually knocked him back. Heart racing, the Vizard scrambled up trying to gather his wits. Before him the cord had gone slack, unwinding, like it was about to…

Oh, no.

He dispersed it without a second thought. In moments the glowing string simply faded away until nary a trace remained. Frightened and confused, the solitary spy sat gaping under the full moon, wondering what to do next.

Ichigo's Hollow vanished.

For a second Renji thought that was the end of the torture, and he almost heaved a sigh of relief, until Benihime uttered a furious oath.

'Damnation! What new effrontery is this?!'

She turned about, searching the battlefield for any sign of her victim. Renji did the same. But their efforts were in vain. The Hollow was gone without a trace. Uttering a hiss, Benihime floated up to hang over their heads, face worked in blackest fury. The deadly princess regarded her two remaining victims.

'We tire of this.'

Huh?

He looked again. By all appearance the wicked zanpakutō had lapsed back into outward calm. 'The game has been irreparably defiled,' she stated matter-of-factly. 'Our chosen sacrifice has slipped away. It would be beneath our dignity to accept a substitute. We find ourselves quite put out by this turn of events.'

Benihime seemed to consider them both groveling on the floor beneath her. Then she gave a dismissive wave of one hand.

'That will be all. You may go.'

White mist surged up to envelop him completely. Renji peered all about, unable to see anything beyond his own body. He felt light, weightless.

Next thing he knew, the Siamese Captain found himself back where this had all began, in a huge chamber somewhere in the depths of the R&D Bureau. He looked around, noticing signs of battle, tumbled columns and rubble all about. Yet no other fighters were present.

Renji inhaled gratefully. His body seemed in no worse shape than when he went in there. Did that really happen? It hardly seemed real. No proof appeared to offer confirmation the whole thing hadn't been some kind of disturbed fantasy. How long were we in there?

-ATTENTION: ANNIHILATION OF COMPLEX TO COMMENCE IN 2 MINUTES-

Oh. Okay.

"Administrative access: Urahara Kisuke," a hoarse voice rasped behind him. "Emergency measures rescind. The threat has been terminated."

-CONFIRMED. RESCINDING FACILITY ANNIHILATION. ALL PERSONNEL, RETURN TO YOUR ASSIGNED DUTIES.-

Renji turned around to find Urahara standing behind him. And he knew it had not been a dream.

The Ibis captain's white coat was soaked in crimson. His face looked a mess, sticky redness from the smashed nose and split lips doing little to hide deep purple bruises already showing on his skin. A ghastly wound in his chest continued to ooze, along with one arm that looked stabbed and mutilated beyond belief. Gray eyes gazed sadly at Renji, who could only stare back.

Urahara swayed drunkenly. His jaw worked up and down in an effort at speech. He coughed, and blood came out. At last two words emerged faintly.

"Who died?"

"No one," Renji whispered back. "I think."

Kisuke nodded, barely seeming to comprehend. Then his legs buckled, and he dropped like a stone. Abarai managed to leap forward and catch the man before he could hit the floor. They sank down together, the younger fighter holding onto his inscrutable colleague, feeling him shaking violently.

Until that day, he had never thought to see Kisuke Urahara cry.

Between one violent convulsion and the next, Ichigo simply went limp.

He's dead, Nanao thought. Horror at the idea was replaced by confusion when she noticed his chest rising and falling regularly under the blanket. Astonished, Nanao stared at his pale sleeping features, which looked so peaceful she nearly mistook him for being dead again.

"I… it's over!" She looked around as though seeking confirmation. Half a dozen shinigami medics looked ready to concur with her diagnosis simply for the sake of not wanting to tempt fate. After having experienced symptoms more horrific than anything that came before, Ichigo had just… gotten better. There was no other way to put it.

The human paramedics seemed no less bewildered by this turn of events. They were in an ambulance halfway to the hospital when things got so bad they had been forced to stop the vehicle to perform life-saving measures. Right then it seemed certain the dying teen wouldn't make it there at all. His knees and elbows were going purple, and he had been given enough blood for two people, when just like that he was seemingly out of danger. Completely unconscious, but otherwise… fine!

Hardly daring to believe their good fortune, Nanao threw a joyous look at Isshin, who was so overwhelmed he dropped down to the pavement and put his head between his legs. The distraught father had been following them in his own car, not wanting to crowd the emergency van any more than it already was, even if most of the human occupants couldn't perceive the shinigami in attendance. He had requested Nanao accompany them owing to her not being able to drive herself in his place. Now here they were, and… and… heaven only knew how or why, but their prayers had been answered!

"He's… stable," one of the human paramedics stated upon checking his instruments. "Holy mother of mercy… it's a goddam miracle!" After looking about for confirmation, he then indicated back towards the ambulance. "C'mon, let's get moving while this lasts. We're only a few minutes from the hospital."

He proceeded to pound on the wall separating them from the driver's seat. Moving back to the doors, the medic paused upon spotting Isshin. "Doctor, we're heading out. Do you want to join us?"

"I'll be right behind you." The Kurosaki patriarch was up on his feet in a flash. "Nanao, keep me posted!" he called while bolting back to his car, which was halfway up on the sidewalk.

She waved in compliance, too overwhelmed to risk further speech. Moments later the sirens were blaring again, and Nanao could have sworn she had never heard anything so beautiful. It was a sign that life had been preserved. Somehow, someway, the worst had seemingly been averted.

Think it's time you made that call to Rukia now.

I couldn't agree more.

"Crap," Akon swore.

Up ahead Soifon stood waiting for him, her face hard with displeasure. The reason for this was obvious. Their way was blocked by a giant squirming mass of rainbow-colored frogs that filled up the passage completely. More of the Quaolnargn copies hopped about in front of the blockage, unable to pursue and not inclined to do much of anything else.

"I was afraid of this," the demon toad's creator sighed. "One thing that could truly hamper Quaolnargn is the environment. If he's in a tight restricted space, repeated attacks will result in forced reproduction to the point where they're all simply squeezed in with no means of getting loose. Seems Grimmjow figured that out on his own."

"Is there another way around?" Soifon asked brusquely, stepping aside with obvious distaste as a purple behemoth went croaking by.

"Not to that chamber. There's only one established entrance at Lieutenant Kurotsuchi's express insistence. It's her project, so we had to comply. Those are the rules around here." Akon then gave a shrug. "Ah, well."

One hand dove into his pocket and reemerged with a small trigger of some kind. He pressed it. With simultaneous pops, over a hundred Quaolnargn simply exploded. Their remains became thin as tissue paper that drifted to the floor and lay there like molted skin.

Akon pocketed the device again. "He won't be able to reconstitute without help. We'll have to deal with Grimmjow and his party ourselves."

-ATTENTION: ANNIHILATION OF COMPLEX TO COMMENCE IN 2 MINUTES-

"Assuming we're not all dead in roughly two minutes," he added.

The scientist turned to find he was addressing empty air. Soifon had already disappeared down the now unobstructed hallway. "No one ever waits for an explanation nowadays," he groused to himself. As he did, however, the red lights suddenly flicked off and normal lighting resumed.

-CONFIRMED. RESCINDING FACILITY ANNIHILATION. ALL PERSONNEL, RETURN TO YOUR ASSIGNED DUTIES.-

Oh. Alright, then.

It was safe to assume Director Urahara had eliminated the main force of the invasion. Which left only the Espada and his associates. They could probably handle this on their own. With that in mind, Akon went on his way feeling somewhat more reassured.

Yuma Ōga looked up from the documents he had been perusing for the last two hours in his small cell. While just as enthralling as he had been told, for some reason the young scholar was finding it hard to concentrate. There was a sense of imbalance in the air, an itch between his shoulder blades. Being highly attenuated to any disturbance in his surroundings while working was part of what had led him to join the Kidō Corps. Here one's privacy could be respected; virtually nobody bothered you in your academic pursuits.

Yet this was different. It felt like several things going wrong at once. Not so much an outside disturbance as… hard to describe, really. And it had been getting worse.

"Oh, that does it," Yuma sighed and dropped the display. He got up and walked the few paces to the door of his unremarkable living quarters. Upon opening it he stepped out into the hallway to look around. When the party responsible did not present itself he trudged down the way, grumbling and shaking his head in exasperation.

At last the diligent academic reached the research wing. Whatever he was feeling appeared to be emanating from here. Yuma went down the honeycomb of passages, following his instincts until at last he came upon a door emblazoned with a soaring phoenix. The sight actually gave him pause. He knew what was kept in this chamber. Not his area of research, but word of something like that got around, even amongst cloistered sorcerers not inclined to socializing. For a second he debated calling for help.

Oh, why bother anyone? I just want to get back to my work as soon as possible. He opened the door and stepped inside.

First thing he noticed was the enormous storage unit for this vault. It had retracted from the ceiling to hover only a few feet over the floor, a cylinder of tremendous proportions inscribed with protective charms. They glowed yellow, an indication the binding was dispersed. Just as plainly the unit had been opened. Some of its contents were piled in a heap on the floor. Yet nowhere in evidence was the party responsible.

However the feeling of wrongness had focused. And scholar or not, a shinigami knew to trust his instincts. In obedience to this Ōga wasted no more time encanting a spell.

"Bakudo #92: Stone-Throw House."

A high-pitched screech followed upon which a transparent cube emerged around the gathered artifacts. Encased along with them were suddenly revealed three figures that hadn't been visible before. The tall one holding the staff reacted swiftly, raising it overhead before droning out something unintelligible. Immediately orbs of blue fire appeared to go streaking against the barrier, only to disperse harmlessly against it.

Yuma regarded them with a certain erudite interest, taking especial note of how they all appeared to be sporting mask remnants of a sort. "Are you Hollows, by any chance?" he inquired politely. "Sorry to offend, but that's really not my area of research. I can't remember actually meeting one before this, although I suppose…"

As he spoke the bulky fellow lowered his shoulder and charged into the spell walls, which proved no more effective than his friend's attempt had been. "You're better off conserving your strength," the spellcaster advised in laconic fashion. "I'm something of a genius when it comes to containment. That particular casting won me high marks at the Academy."

They regarded him before turning to consult the third member, a smaller female. Nothing of their conversation could be heard from within the confines of his magical prison. Yuma considered. Well, that should hold them for a while yet. Enough time for me to alert the wardens. Or the captain. Guess I'd better get on with it. Say, who is our captain, anyway…?

He turned towards the door. Unnoticed behind him, the female arrancar's lips moved soundlessly. As she did, the world snapped into black and white.

Yuma halted in puzzlement. How odd. All of a sudden it was as if everything in his field of vision had been reduced to bands of bright light and deepest shadow. They stood out starkly against one another, zig-zagging across every available surface in a disorienting fashion. The effect messed with his sense of depth, causing him to misjudge the distance back to the door. Was it near, or far away? He could make out details of the room in some places, but in others they simply vanished within those chiaroscuro depths.

When Yuma came around it was to find the same thing had occurred to the imprisoned pair. He could still clearly see them, but they had become like silhouettes, nothing but outlines filled with one color or another. Half of the tall Hollow was visible as a white shadow superimposed over a black gash, yet from around the waist down it simply disappeared into an adjoining white band running through that part of the room. The same was true in reverse for its partner, allowing only sections of its outline to be visible while the rest was swallowed up in purest night. Yuma felt dizzy just looking at them. His Stone-Throw House had that quality of patchwork visibility as well.

Hang on… there's only two of them. Where's the third?

That prickle down his spine was back. He took the warning to heart. "Bakudō #..."

A long coiled tail wrapped around his throat. The astonished mage barely registered this before that noose constricted with brutal force.

Pure white liquid spattered against the ebony patches of ground. Something black hit the floor with a thunk and went rolling across the checkerboard of colors, visible only when passing over white. It came to a halt in one of the dark stretches, thus turning invisible.

Enfain Tezima dropped from the ceiling in full resurrección. She now sported a tail whose end curled round and around itself in the manner of a clay rope. From her forearms grew two curved sickle blade talons, and three full horns sprouted from the arrancar's reformed mask, which left only her nose and mouth visible. Two huge eyes with pinpoint pupils swiveled to regard her colleagues, who were spared from the effects of Ciao Roscuro. Their prison had vanished with the death of its caster.

"I'll keep an eye out for anyone else," she declared. "Finish packing away the rest and let's get out of here."

Obediently the fat Hollow's torso split open up in the manner of a flower blooming, his girth now branching out in four equal sections from the nub of his head. Revealed within was a great orifice whose spear-point teeth glistened wetly. His colleague proceeded to pick up their objective and feed it piece by piece into this gaping red maw where they disappeared without a trace.

Tezima made sure the operation was proceeding smoothly before turning to the corpse of Yuma Ōga. She crouched down and hooked one of her claws into his belly to rip it open. The smell of shinigami flesh made her tremble. Her accomplices too regarded the catch with undisguised hunger. But this was her kill, and Tezima meant to savor it. So she dug in.

Grimmjow's arm came thundering down to split the chainsaw limb grinding futilely against his armor. The CY-X9500 disregarded his bleeding stump in favor of letting loose with another blast of fire from his mouth, only for the panther-demon to duck beneath the conflagration and whip around in a lightning fast roundhouse kick that split Yamada in two at the waist.

The Sexta rose up to regard the two halves of his fallen opponent, still twitching faintly with that same emotionless expression on his face. Giving a disgusted snort he kicked the bifurcated cyborg aside before turning to address Loly and Menoly. "You find the guy or not?"

"How the hell were we supposed to with that THING coming after us?!" Loly demanded, still holding her severed hand protectively to her chest.

Both she and Menoly had fared poorly against the shinigami science experiment. Burnt, bloodied and more freaked out than either of them would care to admit, the two sat huddled together a safe distance from the fight. They had been right at the point of deploying their only remaining trump card when Jaguerjaques showed up and made short work of the android menace. Their mad-eyed savior now regarded the two of them with bland disdain before rounding on the still twitching remains of the CY-X9500.

"Hey. Your name Mayuri Kurotsuchi?"

No answer came back. Grimmjow picked his teeth with one black claw and perused the lab in contemplation. That illusion of the big green rock at the center of the room didn't fool him; it had no scent. Additionally, the alarm system seemed to have turned off. Could this mean Ichigo's Hollow was dead? The thought gave him no pleasure, even if he had been likely to die against it during their fight. And if that were the case, his main reason for being here was toast.

"Well, hell," Grimmjow proclaimed. "If we can't find him, guess the only thing left for us to do is vaporize this whole place."

A scarlet streak snapped through the air towards his throat which the Hollow caught one-handed. Grimmjow threw a curious glance down to find a long black and red lash imprisoned in his claw. He gave a violent yank on it, at which point Nemu Kurotsuchi burst out from a wall into 3-dimensional space once more. She landed with feet braced firmly and the handle of her whip pulled back over one shoulder, refusing to give any ground to the Hollow. The lieutenant's green eyes burned as she regarded Grimmjow.

"Y'know, I was really hoping to get some good fights under my belt from this stint," the panther demon chuckled. "But you smell damn tasty, so why don't we just–"

A shriek from both Loly and Menoly cut him short. Off to one side the CY-X9500 suddenly gave a shudder, and four mechanical crab-like legs emerged from his split midsection. He came upright, wobbling a bit before finding his new quadrupedal balance. Those pointed tips clicked unnervingly as the mecha-monster clattered forward once more.

"All available reserves charging for gut cannon," Yamada intoned, a cannon dropping from a hatch in his belly from whose barrel a perilous red glow began to build.

"THAT'S IT!" Loly burst out, purple eye wide and unhinged with terror. "ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT!" She then swung about to her partner. "MERGE, KUDOKU!"

The two slapped their palms together. Immediately a scarlet aura rose around them that caused the very air to quiver and ripple. Becoming mere outlines against this foreboding glow, their bodies began to blend together, refashioning into something much larger and more malevolent. The miasma around them intensified such that the very stones started to melt from close proximity to this virulent substance.

So strong was the poison, in fact, that the rings they wore simply melted…

-UNAUTHORIZED ELEMENT DETECTED-

… upon which the ground reared up and ate them.

Grimmjow stared, momentarily forgetting everything else in the room owing to the sheer weirdness of this occurrence. One second the conjoined pair of Hollows had been powering up, and the next it was as if the stretch of floor they stood on turned into a big worm and just… swallowed them whole.

-ANALYSIS COMPLETE. SAMPLES DEEMED AS: WASTE MATERIAL. INITIATING DESIGNATED DISPOSAL METHOD #2-

At this the proboscis extended straight into the ceiling. There came a muffled boom as a large bulge inside it went rocketing upwards faster than a firework. Once this eruption cleared the room, the organic protrusion descended quick as a flash and became part of the floor once more without leaving a trace to mark its passing.

"What is this place, a goddam funhouse?" Jaguerjaques demanded. "People popping in and out of nowhere! Y'know what? Fuck it."

So saying he wiped a smear of blood off his cheek left from his previous battle against the Hollow. A Gran Ray Cero started to build in his palm at a terrifying rate. It was a force suited for leveling this entire structure if he chose, but for the time being, just wiping out the whole room and everyone in it would be enough.

Nemu had been examining the spot where the two Hollows had disappeared with keen intensity, but when everything lit up blue the Ibis Squad lieutenant glanced briefly at Yamada. She then clenched her zanpakutō's handle, at which point the blood lash born from it retracted back at speeds that launched her across the way at Grimmjow, who still held the lagging end.

The determined maiden thundered towards him, yet an instant before they could connect Jaguerjaques released the whip and stretched out a hand to catch Nemu by the throat with ease. Swiftly he brought up his other arm where the Gran Ray Cero swarmed at full strength. The Espada grinned. "I gotta admit…"

"Trap jaw."

Next thing Grimmjow knew, pointed teeth sank into the flesh of his earlobe. There came a horrid ripping sound, and the Hollow howled as the CY-X9500 reared over one shoulder, a large chunk of tufted feline ear dangling from his mouth.

On it there gleamed a small black and white ring.

The frenzied Sexta prepared to unleash his attack against any and all present, but before he could so much as blink…

-UNAUTHORIZED ELEMENT DETECTED-

… the floor had already slid up and consumed him.

Both the CY-X9500 and Nemu slid through the sides of the defense system with no more resistance than if it were water. Lieutenant Kurotsuchi took a moment to reassure herself of this measure's effectiveness. Her father had deemed it capable of handling the most dangerous elements ever contained within these walls. She hoped his precautions still remained sufficient.

-ANALYSIS COMPLETE. SAMPLE DEEMED AS: CATEGORY DJIIN. RELOCATING TO APPROPRIATE FACILITY-

And with that the smooth lump flattened out into an innocuous stretch of pavement once more.

Satisfied at this turn of events, she gave subliminal approval for her partner to commence his recovery. The CY-X9500 skittered over to pick up his chainsaw arm before heading to where his lower half remained in a pool of something not quite like blood. He lowered himself down, the crab appendages reaching out to draw his severed segment closer. When physical connection was made they retracted into their fount, upon which the cyborg settled his arm against its stump. He then produced what appeared to be a tiny scalpel with a bar in its blade.

If you develop a life-threatening infection as a result of lying on this filthy floor, don't come crying to me, Yamada!

He touched Hisagomaru to the open halves of his body. Immediately the zanpakutō absorbed these injuries completely, causing his flesh and bones to knit back together with nary a scar to be seen. The bar filled up almost full red. Once assured of his complete recovery, the various metallic implements emerging from his skin went right back in, and once more Hanataro Yamada lay naked on his back blinking up at the ceiling.

"It happened again, didn't it?" he inquired to no one in particular.

The door leading into this chamber slid open as Soifon came speeding in. She drew to a halt upon noticing the pronounced lack of enemies. The Viper company captain swept raging shark eyes over every square inch in search of her prey, the sight of which caused the buck naked Hanataro to squeak and go scurrying towards his playpen on all fours, shutting the door behind him.

"Where is Jaguerjaques?" Soifon asked.

"He has been removed." So saying Nemu slipped the handle of her whip securely up one sleeve. Towards the chamber's center the simulation of her father's prison vanished. A large hole in the floor beneath it opened, and past several levels of defensive magic there arose the real Mayuri Kurotsuchi, still encased in calcite cohabitation with his old research subject. Nemu then crossed a few steps and knelt down, coming up with the piece of Grimmjow's ear. From this she detached the ring and held it to the light for further study.

Completed.

Soifon accepted her soul cutter's assessment of the situation. She therefore determined to check on Renji and Urahara, a prospect whose result the devoted shinobi did not relish learning.

May you have nothing to regret from this episode, Lady Yoruichi.

The Vizard sat confused and sickened by what nearly took place tonight. I almost lost my most valuable asset. Now there's no one left to complete the mission but me. Which means it's effectively over. I've failed.

What are they going to do to me?

"You should leave here."

He looked up to find the seneschal had risen and now stood with hands hidden in the sleeves of his robe. The white-bearded courtesan regarded him with flat accusing eyes, as if already excoriating him for his weakness.

King…

"If your forces have been captured as you say, they might already have divulged our identities," his only remaining ally continued. "I do not recommend returning to the grounds. I will not open the way for you, and any attempt to enter on your own will surely draw attention."

Gazing at him dully, the Vizard considered his options.

Kill him, King.

Flee.

Mocking laughter receded into the deepest depths of his soul as his Hollow side fell under the sway of that commandment. This allowed him a clearer head, yet still he found himself sorely in need of an alternative. The elderly noble then raised his chin and spoke in a firm tone of voice. "For the sake of both our houses, it is probably best that we die now, lest we contribute to the scandal further. If you will consent to do so for me, I would be grateful."

He looked up, speechless at the thought. "I'm not…"

There was no way to complete that sentence. The old man just looked so calm and self-assured, everything he was not right now. Is that true bravery I'm seeing? Was suicide what a courageous person would do in this situation? Fall on their sword and be done with it?

I can't do that. If I do, it'll mean everything I've done was wrong. The exploitation of Ichigo… attempting to murder that boy for whatever reason… and Hachi… Hachi worst of all…

He heard a sharp intake of air above him. When he looked up it was to find the old man's eyes had gone wide with fright.

Only then did he notice that they were surrounded.

The Vizard scrambled up and drew his sword. All throughout the woods and up in trees, a host of armed warriors observed them closely. They wore identical crimson and olive green uniforms with face-concealing masks painted to resemble demons. Even like this he could tell they were arranged in battle formation.

Into the glade strode Katsurou, Lord of the Arashi.

A soft sigh came from the bent seneschal's lips. Meanwhile the Vizard crouched in an agony of despair, bearing his weapon against someone who had been a force in the world since before he was born. The steely-eyed aristocrat drew to a halt, arms clasped behind his back. Swathed in the colors of his house with a dagger tucked into his sash, he radiated effortless power and command, skin gleaming bone white under the cold moon. Death lurked in every line of his face.

"NO!"

In terror the Vizard did the only thing he could think of. From the hilt of his soul cutter there fired over a hundred golden threads to unerringly strike each of the Arashi enforcers in the vicinity. Immediately all movement on their part ceased, and they stood still as stone. One thread took Katsurou in the chest. He too remained in his previous position, the very picture of icy condemnation staring rigidly forward. The member of the Masked Army gazed right back.

It's him or me. I have no choice. It has to be done.

The masked sorcerer came to within striking distance of the frozen lord and raised his weapon. No time to reflect, or think. Just make it quick. He's entranced, he'll never even feel it. None of them will.

With a final look at that face he knew would forever haunt his dreams from then on, he swung with all his strength.

Katsurou's arm swept up to intercept the falling sword with a harsh clang, and in the same moment his other hand lashed out swift as thought to plunge through the Vizard's mask deep into his right eye.

An unholy scream tore the peaceful night apart. The members of the Arashi household regained their senses in time to watch the Vizard fall to the ground with a hand pressed to his face, shrieking and swinging his sword through empty air in blind agony.

Katsurou Arashi looked disdainfully upon this wretched display. On his left hand was now revealed a large gauntlet made of dark purple metal. Its bands were studded with tiny spikes. The fingers of this war glove grew abnormally long and thin with wickedly sharp points reminiscent of a spider's legs. His amputated right arm sported a mate to this monstrosity. But while there was no hand within to manipulate it, the fingers still moved as though animated by an internal force, granting Katsurou mobility he would otherwise lack.

A convulsive jerk of the Vizard's arm was accompanied by a high-pitched wail. Something small and round then went sailing through the air to bounce harmlessly across the forest floor. As it rolled to a halt, the thing turned black and dissolved away before any of the nearby guardians could get a clear look at it. After this the Vizard lay curled on his side into a sobbing ball.

The head of the Arashi clan flicked a claw at his mewling victim. Several attendants peeled forward to approach the Vizard with weapons at the ready and incantations on their breath.

Before they could reach him, orange light bathed the whole glade as though the sun had arisen. The guardians immediately regrouped in a defensive position around their lord. Katsurou's head lifted to observe a rent torn in the night sky through which a swirling gray void appeared. A beam of blazing energy fell from this hole to envelop the fallen Vizard. The very earth around him tore loose, and the whole thing went floating heavenward carrying its passenger. When the Arashi guardsmen looked to their master for orders, he waved a hand to indicate they should take no action. In moments the Vizard had vanished from this plane.

"You must stop."

Their attention turned to the ancient retainer who remained alone in the clearing. His face had settled into regal impassivity once more as he regarded his sworn liege. At last Katsurou deigned to take note of him, upon which the weary soul continued.

"You are killing us by engaging in this selfish manner," the old man declared with all the dignity of his years. "The sins of the past demand no further amelioration than has already been done. If you persist with your unyielding obsession, it will only cause further tragedy to the Arashi."

At a gesture from Katsurou his ring of bodyguards parted to leave him facing the old man across the way.

"The world has changed. Why can you not see that? The players you knew are no longer in evidence. It is a different age. But you remain bound by your old grievances. If you would only listen–"

Before he could speak another word Lord Arashi crossed the space between them and swept one of his talons across the retainer's flapping throat.

Watery eyes bulged and the toothless mouth hung agape. He brought a hand to his throat. When it came away, there was no blood. However a long black slit now clearly bisected his neck. A shudder passed up that spent frame. When the noble executioner turned his back, however, his desperate elder strove to speak.

"Listen… to me… my lord… plea-se… ple–"

Right before their eyes, that wrinkled skin turned white just like Katsurou's. His head slowly came up, shaking violently. Strangled gasps escaped his mouth as it opened and closed in vain. He gave a spasm, shrinking and twisting in upon himself before finally pitching over to lie in a graceless heap.

A whisper of movement followed, a soft shush of power being let free, and the Arashi warriors found themselves now confronted by another group of fighters dressed in black with masks that left only their eyes visible, the mark of the Stealth Forces. Both sides watched one another without saying a word.

Into that perilous atmosphere so fraught with threat, Lieutenant Tetsuzaemon Iba of Viper Company stepped forth from concealment. "Lord Arashi," he greeted the nobleman warily, his dark shades reflecting the other man.

"Gotei Lieutenant." Katsurou spoke back, secure and serene as only one of his rank could be.

"An incident took place this night," Iba continued when no more was forthcoming. "We have reason to believe it might have originated somewhere in this wood. Can you offer an explanation as to your being here?"

Some of the Arashi bristled at hearing their leader confronted, even indirectly, by a mere plebeian. However Katsurou held up a gleaming metal hand to forestall any action. The gauntlets encasing his forearms glowed a soft fuchsia hue, then vanished, reforming into a double-edged jian whose handle its wielder caught in midair. A servant came forward holding an ornate black lacquer scabbard which he slid the sword into smoothly.

"I have disposed of a traitor to my house." Katsurou indicated back to the lump in fine cloth on the ground. "You are free to confiscate the remains if you so choose, or leave them there to rot. I care not. We shall take our leave now."

The aloof aristocrat marched forward then, his long ponytail swinging behind him. The attendant bearing his zanpakutō followed closely. In accordance with their master's unspoken command, the Arashi guardsmen began to disperse. Their counterparts in the Stealth Forces looked to their Second Seat's example as to how to proceed. When Tetsuzaemon made no move to hinder the clan head or his people, they melted into the shadows, becoming one with the night. Not long after he found himself alone in the clearing.

Iba walked forward and bent down by the corpse. He reached forward to get a better look, only to rear back with an exclamation of disgust. The withered old body had shrunk even further, shriveled and desiccated like a mummy. No blood flowed at all from the cut in its throat and the eye sockets in that ghastly skull were filled with a crumbling black powder. It looked as though something had sucked all the fluids out of him.

With a shake of his head the lieutenant got back up. A sense beyond mere revulsion told him not to touch this body. He debated calling in Heron Squad to perform a cleansing ritual, but knew his first priority must be to contact Captain Soifon. Moments later a hell butterfly containing his report flapped across the clear sky.

Iba then hunkered down against a tree and removed a booze gourd. He took a swig to wash the distaste of this affair out, mulling over everything he had seen and heard. There were no clear answers forthcoming, no idea of who the enemy might be. But it probably wouldn't be long before they revealed themselves. Some folks just couldn't wait. When that time came, he would gladly teach them how true men behaved.

"You should've run when you had the chance, boy," Rajnee snarled as he edged along the narrow bridge of stone. Drool flecked his muzzle, and the werewolf rumbled deep in his hairy red chest. "Like you did when I killed your grandpa!"

Ulric Sterne made no reply. All his concentration was bent on the enemy before him. He kept his bow notched and ready to fly in an instant, the silver arrow seeming to glow under the moon.

'Grandfather', he prayed, 'let me see this done. Let no more innocents die.'

The devil wind whipped around the castle with such force he feared being blown away. The young mystic didn't dare look down to see just how far off the ground he really was. This strand of masonry they both stood on rumbled beneath his feet, and at his back the huge mausoleum at the center of this web of columns burned with a crimson radiance reflected in the moon overhead. Had Ingelbert made it? Could Rania be safe even now? He had warned the Gypsy not to come back for him, offering to fend off the wolf pack alone. This deep into the castle, there could be no hesitation. Now bleeding, exhausted, and nearly bereft of silver arrows, he faced this most powerful opponent in what might prove to be the last fight of his life.

"Worried about your friend?" The prime werebeast gnashed his fangs, speech rendered an almost unintelligible growl by his half-wolf form. "Don't be. He'll never reach the Graff. Gehrin's in there, don't you know. The boy's as good as dead."

Ulric's arm did not stir in the slightest. The damned soul clearly feared his weapon; small wonder, having lost so many of his host to them. Only one arrow left, and my dagger. I don't stand a chance against him in a close quarters fight. Which means I can't afford to miss. The bridge they stood upon was no more than two feet across, limiting the werewolf's movement. It was the entire reason he led the sinful soul out here. There's no place for him to dodge. I have the advantage. I must choose my moment, just as you taught me, Grandfather.

The hulking beast drew ever closer, muscles flexing beneath his furred pelt and claws raised in preparation to rend his flesh. "And once we're done with you, Birkenstrad will pay dearly for your rebellion as well."

Don't think about that. Don't pay his words any heed. Forget about everything but this moment. Don't let your concern for anyone cloud your (Adelaide) judgement! Be strong!

Rajnee slyly noted how the human fighter's eyes narrowed behind his glasses at mention of his hometown. He crept ever closer, the wind running through his red pelt like a lover's hands. "There anyone I should pay special attention to when I get there, eh? A sister, maybe?" His eyes burned with unholy fire. "Or how about… a girlfriend?"

The silver arrowhead never wavered from the beast's heart. Yet Ulric could feel his own start to pound hard.

"Like the Constable's daughter."

Teeth gritted, the avenger involuntarily pulled back his bowstring even farther. He could almost hear his father's spiteful words in his ear: 'Fool boy! You're letting him bait you!'

"I believe her name was… Adelai–"

NOW!

The bowstring thrummed as the arrow shot towards its target. Dear God, please…!

The werewolf leapt straight into the air, the silver shaft passing harmlessly below him. His leap propelled him over fifty feet so that he hung for a moment silhouetted against the moon, borne aloft by the devil wind, a wild demon from hell itself.

And then he was tearing down for his target like a juggernaut. Ulric felt panic set in as he pulled the silver dagger from his belt. Run! No, he'll catch me! No room to dodge, no chance to fight, just…

Rajnee dropped straight toward him with a howl. Sterne's body froze with indecision. In that moment Ulric knew he was about to die.

Grandfather… I'm sorry. I failed.

With a whistling note, an arrow erupted through the werewolf captain's open jaws.

Ulric gaped. On instinct he stumbled back and flopped down hard. For a moment he nearly fell off the edge, dropping his knife and gripping the stone sides feverishly so that they bit into his palms.

Rajnee hit the bridge right in front of him and collapsed face forward. A gurgling rasp came from the dying monster's throat. For a moment their eyes met, and neither could tell which looked more surprised. Then the Graf's lieutenant slid off and plummeted towards the castle roof, disappearing into the darkness as Hell swallowed another black soul.

"Didn't your teacher instruct you not to waste ammunition?"

When Ulric looked up, he felt certain he must be dreaming. "Grandfather…?" he whispered.

"I suppose it's less insulting than your usual way of addressing me. Though hardly accurate."

The stupefied teen blinked frantically. He took off his cracked spectacles and put them back on. There indeed on the bridge was a white-haired bowman wearing a hooded cowl emblazoned with the five-pointed mark of their order. Yet the face proved even more shocking than even the thought of his dead teacher coming back to life.

"Richter?!" he blurted out in disbelief.

"Don't refer to me by my given name," his father ordered peremptorily. "How many times must I tell you?"

With no evident trepidation the elder archer strode briskly along the stone beam until he stood over his astonished offspring.

"You are a disgrace as usual." Richter Sterne's expression was his usual icy mask as he spoke. "While I do not fault your intentions in coming here, I do question your execution. There is more at stake than one Gypsy girl's life."

He then knelt down and held out a hand. "But once begun, we must accept reality. Now let us go. Dawn is swift approaching. While you and your friend were drawing their attention in your usual overly dramatic fashion, I took the opportunity to construct a magic circle around this whole complex. It should prevent any of the Graff's forces from leaving the castle during the day when he is slumbering. Before then we must…"

"Michiru-chan!"

The girl gave a start and looked up from her writing. Orihime Inoue came racing down the hospital hallway. Some of the nurses and attendants shouted at her for doing so, but the redheaded teen paid them no heed. Michiru bolted up from her seat in the waiting area as her friend came skidding to a halt.

"Inoue-san, where have you been?! We've been trying to reach you!"

Orihime shook her distractedly. "I was at the train station waiting to pick up Tatsuki, she's coming back today, the battery in my cellphone had run down, when I got back home I checked my messages, Kurosaki-sensei had called, I ran here as fast as I could!" Gasping and trembling, her knees appeared ready to give out. Seeing this Ohgawa tried to guide her down into a seat, but the frantic beauty wrestled away.

"How is he?" she asked, desperation evident in her tear-filled eyes.

"Ichigo's fine," her schoolmate sought to reassure her. "He's safe and resting in his room. Dr. Ishida came by a few minutes ago to update me. They still don't know what caused it, but he said it looks like Kurosaki will make a complete recovery."

All the tension seemed to drain away from Orihime's body so that she sagged on the spot. This time when Michiru caught hold and directed her to a seat she did not resist. There she burst into tears, lovely face buried in her hands. The other girl felt like crying too.

"I should have been there," Orihime wept. "I… sh-should have… known! He almost…" After this the sobs became too strong for speech. Ohgawa draped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Best to let her get it all out. This episode has been rough on everybody.

At last Inoue seemed to get ahold of herself. Her shaking had subsided, and she looked a good deal calmer. "Thanks, Michiru-chan." She wiped her eyes with a sniff and smiled. "Excuse me, now. I have to go see him."

Orihime then got up. Michiru stood with her. "Umm… you can't. He's in intensive care, only immediate family is allowed to be with him."

Comprehension dawned in those deep bistre eyes. "Oh… that's right. I forgot, we're in a hospital." Looking around the waiting area, she took note of the lack of familiar faces. "Is anybody else here?"

"Kurosaki-sensei went home and picked up the twins. They're upstairs with him now. Good thing it's the weekend or there might have been a lot of explaining needed. Ishida-kun called everybody he could get ahold of to let them know. I was here already getting an eye exam, that's how I was in before practically anybody else. Kon's around somewhere, he just went to get us both some juice from the soda machine."

"Rukia!" Orihime gasped. "Ohmigosh, has anybody told Rukia? She has to know!"

"She… is. She got here fast thanks to Kon and…"

Michiru hesitated. Should I really say this to her now? I mean, with everything that went on between them? I guess… that's all been settled, right?

"Rukia's with them now. The family. She's… with Ichigo."

Orihime's mouth hung open slightly, and she blinked. "Oh… right. You're right." With that she retook her seat.

They sat together for a time without saying anything more. After a bit Michiru started to get uncomfortable and thought about going back to working on her cellphone novel. But that sounded rude, and so she sought to make conversation until Kon showed up. This came as a relief since Inoue definitely wasn't up to chatting much. With a new source of stress in their lives, who could blame her? Hollows were bad enough. Somehow sickness seemed even more frightening by comparison. But for that, at least, you didn't need to be a shinigami to help out.

This wing of the Shihoin mansion had been donated to treat grievously injured shinigami following the Autumn War. Since then it had taken on a sort of unspoken significance; those who were brought here stood as good a chance of living as anyone could hope. Yet standing outside Kisuke Urahara's sick room, Yoruichi Shihoin couldn't find it in herself to believe in superstitions. Not when there were real evils so close at hand.

"What happened to him?"

Noboru was peering in through a window beside her. He seemed more unnerved by the sight of Soifon tending to the unconscious patient's wounds than anything else. His mother reached out and stroked his hair reassuringly. Just when Noboru felt certain she wasn't going to tell him, Yoruichi spoke. "He used his bankai."

The boy studied their sleeping compatriot and made a face. "Are bankai supposed to take that much out of you?"

"Not usually. But Kisuke is a special case."

She turned and walked down the archway, stepping out into the carefully tended palace garden with its sakura trees and pruned bushes. Wearing an elegant gold brocade robe with jeweled pins in her hair, Yoruichi definitely looked the part of master in her own domain. Her son was more out of place in a torn and dirtied Stealth Forces uniform. When she notified Noboru that Soifon would not be training him today as per usual, it came as somewhat of a surprise when he insisted on learning the reason why. Normally the boy would have just seized his good fortune without question and run off to play. It was possible the lad had chosen to take on more responsibility, for himself and others. Perhaps in anticipation of meeting his father, so as to make a better impression? The experience of living with Rukia and the others might prove even more beneficial to his growth than she had hoped.

"You see, Noboru, bankai training is one of the most overwhelming experiences you can subject yourself to."

They sat down together on a tiny hill crowned by a leafless maple tree. Yoruichi pulled Noboru in to rest against her, and he snuggled in securely. Mother and son gazed out across the vast Shihoin holdings.

"A zanpakutō is part of your soul, but each has its own distinct personality. This is why getting to know your guardian spirit takes time and effort on your part." She reached down and removed a red ornamental chopstick from its place tucked into his ear, holding the disguised soul cutter up by way of example. "Like all close relationships, this requires understanding, willingness, and patience. Normally a shinigami must resign themselves to devoting years to this venture, or even several decades in some cases. It takes that long for your partner to open up fully. And there's no guarantee it will work. A bankai is not meant for just anyone."

Yoruichi handed Hanuman back to him. She lifted her face towards the sun and closed her eyes to let its radiance dispel as much of the chill inside her as possible.

"But Kisuke didn't intend to wait that long or go through all that effort without being certain of a result. If it was possible to achieve bankai, he wanted it proven swiftly and surely, one way or another. So our boy genius set himself to designing a method by which bankai could be mastered in just three days. He worked out all the angles, checked the fundamentals, and reassured himself as to the necessary materials. The result was the Tenshintai, and initially it appeared to be a success."

A tone of deep regret entered her words. "What he failed to account for was Benihime."

Noboru looked up at her worriedly. Yoruichi's golden eyes had gone distant, lacking their usual playful sparkle. He could never remember seeing her appear quite so solemn.

"The Crimson Princess is one of the oldest zanpakutō on record. She might even be the oldest. As such, she takes herself very seriously, and expects her shinigami partners to afford her all due courtesy. Benihime is a rather temperamental weapon, and it takes a highly adaptive and accommodating individual to properly wield her. Kisuke believed he had a good handle on her personality by that point. But he failed to comprehend how vindictive she could be. And how merciless."

"I was there with him in our private training area when he put his design to the test. For three days I watched him strive to overcome Benihime and earn her final release. Kisuke was supremely confident. What I saw left me doubtful, however. It's not for show that traditional bankai training takes a decade. You need that time to come to grips with your soul cutter and the power it could potentially offer. Compressing that into 72 hours was bound to come with risks. Yet even with that in mind, I felt something was wrong. Not that it was really obvious, just a suspicion."

"The truth is that Benihime was furious with Kisuke," the golden-eyed goddess continued. "She felt he had insulted her by not putting in the requisite time and patience to really come to grasp their potential. By doing so he committed a crime in her eyes. One that deserved punishment. So the three days passed with no indication it was going to work. Then all of a sudden, Benihime relented. She offered Urahara bankai, and he, being elated to have his concept proven correct, accepted. We learned the truth only when he used it for the first time right then and there."

She wrapped her arms around Noboru and pulled him closer, perhaps to comfort them both. Unnerved, he settled into this embrace, letting the sound of his mother's strong heartbeat reassure him. Any questions he might have wanted to ask were consciously withheld.

"Urahara hadn't defeated Benihime, you see. He thought he had, and so did I, but actually she tricked us. The bankai she gave him was a nightmare. Benihime took control during it, and Kisuke was reduced to her pawn, a repellent beast forced to obey the commands of its mistress, the Crimson Princess. But that wasn't all. To make sure Kisuke understand the enormity of his transgression against her, she felt a sacrifice must be made. So every time he uses his bankai, someone has to die, whether it be Kisuke or at least one person caught in his final release. Killed by the Lady or the Tiger."

A point dawned on him that seemed too important to let slide. "Didn't you say you were the only one there when he used it?"

Yoruichi stared up at the bright blue sky, running her fingers contemplatively through his smooth black hair. "No," she finally sighed. "There was one more. My bodyguard. His name was Zhen Feng, a man whom I trusted with my life."

This caused him to perk up immediately. "Feng? You mean he was…?"

"Soifon's last living brother. She had five to start with. Two of them were killed while seeking vengeance against a deadly Hollow. Two others died on covert assignments. Zhen managed to survive five missions 'til this point, leading many to believe he would inherit the title of Soifon previously held by his grandmother."

The former fugitive shook her head wearily, as though reliving this episode was draining something essential from her. Nevertheless the tale proceeded apace. "When Kisuke activated his bankai for the very first time, it took both me and Zhen into it. We survived Benihime's maze and wound up at the trial, where we were confronted by a maddened Kisuke after he had been infused with the power collected from us. Even with my own bankai, I couldn't manage to defeat him. We fought each other to a standstill, neither being able or perhaps willing to land a finishing blow. Eventually Benihime ruled the game was over and declared she would choose who must die. I begged her to spare Kisuke in exchange for agreeing to give my own life."

A self-deprecating laugh followed. "What a naïve fool I was. She had her eye on me from the start, because my death was the most certain way to hurt and shame her wielder. Being a willing sacrifice would just make him feel even more guilty afterwards. Fortunately there was someone who saw Benihime's true nature more clearly than I. Zhen had worked out what was happening. With no way to break free, he offered himself instead. She ignored him, so Zhen stepped up his game."

Yoruichi actually smiled at the memory of what came next. "He called her a whore. Right to her face."

Still holding her tightly, Noboru wondered if this last was a joke. The memory of the half-dead fellow in the hospital bed reminded him it was not, and he continued listening.

"That selfless man threw every dirty name under the sun at her. Zhen swore that if she allowed him to leave there alive, he would make sure to tell everyone in Soul Society that it was because Benihime let him have his way with her. That she licked Zhen's ass at his command, and sucked his cock, and let him beat her bloody. He went on to add that when he grew bored with her and was about to leave, she got down on her knees and pleaded with him to stay so he could treat her like the filthy cock-hungry slut she was."

"Just like he planned, Benihime was infuriated. So she took him apart. She killed Zhen in ways that you and I can't begin to conceive, and made sure to take her time at it. When it was over we were set free, Kisuke and I."

She shivered at the retelling, causing her son to do the same. For his sake Yoruichi mastered herself enough to finish this shocking tale of indecency and integrity.

"He was horrified at what happened. Nearly killed himself right there. I managed to talk him out of it. I didn't want it to be known that Urahara was responsible for Zhen's death because the Central 46 and Yamamoto might have considered him a danger and called for his extermination. So I concocted a story that Zhen was killed protecting me on a secret mission. That's what we officially listed as his cause of death. Years later Kisuke used an official demonstration of his bankai to earn a captaincy. We had tested it under controlled conditions beforehand and learned how it worked. This time we made certain that only some captured Hollows were within range of Benihime's power, so that no one watching would be hurt. Well, the Hollows were destroyed easily, and so Kisuke claimed the role of First Seat of Division 12. The truth of the affair was shared only with Zhen's family."

Noboru thought about this for a time. "So that's the reason Feng hates him?"

"No," his noble parent chuckled. "She hates him for getting me mixed up in the Aizen debacle that caused us to be banished. The truth is, Soifon is deeply grateful to Kisuke, because she feels he gave her brother the opportunity to offer his life in the noblest way possible by saving me. The one she truly hates is Benihime, for what she did to Zhen, and would have done to me."

His mouth grew pinched at this line of reason. "That's nuts."

The smile Yoruichi wore in response made him even more confused. "I like to think that's just Feng. It's the way they are. You'll never meet anyone more devoted to our family. Were it not for them, I wouldn't be here, and neither would you, my boy. Zhen, his brothers, and generations before them going back centuries… they were willing to sacrifice their futures to ensure that of the Shihoin." She bent down and kissed him on the forehead, causing Noboru to squirm in embarrassment. "So try and cut her a little slack. She might just grow on you if you let her."

'Like a fungus,' he wanted to argue back, but it was a half-hearted unimaginative effort, and Noboru felt bad for even thinking it somehow. With a conflicted groan the distressed prince buried his head in his regal mother's lap, kicking his heels as he sought to correlate the sour abusive Soifon he knew in any way with the heroic Feng family to whom he owed his very existence.

"I guess… I could take it easy on her for a while," he finally muttered with ill grace.

Eventually Noboru went to sleep. Yoruichi allowed herself this time to consider everything that had happened up to this point. It seemed clear the appearance of the demon Jigoku had ruffled more feathers than just that of Soul Society. Had Aizen and his cabal attempted to reach Mayuri Kurotsuchi for the same reason as themselves? Were they trying to anticipate an advantage by allying with Hell? Or maybe it was the weddings of Four Great Houses that had stirred them to action? Her impending nuptials were fast drawing near.

Of course it was always more than just one thing with that man. She had received word about a break-in from Tessai Tsukabishi, reinstated captain of the Kidō Corps. Seems while the debacle was taking place at the R&D Bureau, somebody snuck into one of the most secretive and illusive places in the afterlife. There they managed to avoid detection, killed a person who turned out to be the lieutenant of the division (how on earth did those absentminded academics not even know their own Second Seat?) and absconded with an extremely dangerous artifact that had been kept there for study. So was the attack led by Grimmjow and Ichigo's Hollow a feint to draw attention away from the burglary in an attempt to kill two birds with one stone?

Yoruichi slipped a hand into her sleeve to emerge with a small black and white ring which she held up towards the noonday sun.

This powerful artifact was not unfamiliar to her. It was designed to allow entry past the security systems implemented by places such as the Shinigami R&D Bureau, the Kidō Corps interdimensional fortress, and certain restricted areas of the Kinou Academy. High-ranking nobles of the Arashi used it when visiting such places. They had that authority. The Arashi clansman who had been killed in the woods must have given them to the Hollows. But why allow such a damning piece of evidence to remain? It would have been child's play to include a simple spell that destroyed the ring after it had been removed. Was this an internal revolt by a lone disloyal retainer as Katsurou claimed to Tetsuzaemon? Or had the old man been attempting, in his own way, to call attention to the activities of the Arashi and their lord?

She could really go for a few less unanswered questions. What's the point of having a private ninja army at your command if you can't even ferret out information?

Like a genie summoned from a lamp, Soifon flashed into view and bowed before her lady with fist pressed against the grass. "Lady Yoruichi. Kisuke Urahara is recuperating at an acceptable rate according to our physicians. He will recover in short order."

"Thank you, Soifon." She smiled and proceeded to tweak the sleeping Noboru's ear, causing him to jerk and grumble before lapsing back into contented torpor. Even today, his every move delighted her. Motherhood certainly did open up a whole new world. Not all of it good, admittedly, but the positive outweighed the negative.

"And the other matter?" Yoruichi asked lightly. In no way did her behavior indicate anxiety on this score. It almost even had her fooled.

The Viper Company captain's face took on a fierce cast, as though eager to dispense capital punishment upon some unlucky soul. "My lady, we have confirmation. None of the other Vizard left their camp or engaged in activities outside the bounds of Hueco Mundo. Our eyes were upon them at all times."

Yoruichi heaved a languid sigh. "Which means it's one of the two currently in Soul Society."

"Or both," Soifon responded quickly. "They each entered the lands of the Arashi where we could not follow. We should be prepared to dispose of them at a moment's notice."

Yoruichi did not respond to this harsh sentence of death. My friends, she thought. Two people whom I hid out with for 100 years after serving with some even longer in the Gotei 13. We lived together, laughed, fought, shared meals and stories. I know their voices and faces so well. I saved their lives when Soul Society would have had them executed as Hollow hybrids.

And one of them tried to kill my son.

She looked down at the recumbent Noboru.

For that I would see them both dead, innocent or no.

"Make what preparations you see fit, Soifon," she spoke softly.

The master shinobi bowed her head. At her lady's unspoken command she then vanished, leaving the scions of the Shihoin house to their undisturbed rest.

Heal it!

I can't.

DAMN YOU TO HELL! I COMMAND YOU TO HEAL IT!

I CAN'T, KING! It's gone!

WHY?! HOW?!

It's been eaten! I can't restore something that was eaten, you know that!

Eaten? What does that mean?! If I go out like this, they'll know it was me!

No they won't. None of them was there to see what happened to you. We'll just have to hide it, King, that's all.

But I can't see! I'm half-blind, someone's bound to notice eventually!

Then take mine.

What?!

Mine are still good. Use one of my eyes, and keep it hidden.

I… I'm not sure…

King… what exactly do you have to lose, hmmm? I'm the only friend you've got left.

The Vizard considered. He knew that wasn't true at all. Someone was watching his back. Someone had intervened back in the forest, transported him to Hueco Mundo via Negacción. Only he had no idea who it could have been. Not Grimmjow or any of his pack, that's for sure. And the Wild Hunt had no power in Soul Society. At least, that's what he had been told. Could Cernunnos have instigated his rescue? Why would it do that? Maybe it was Aizen, or even her…

Like they give a damn about us. You're just their expedient pawn.

The Vizard stared in a mirror at his ruined face. The empty socket gaped back at him. After recovering in Hueco Mundo, he had managed to make his way back to Soul Society without being caught. Once dawn arrived, however, he would be forced to face them. When he did, there must be no trace of suspicion on his part, or they would surely kill him.

Say it, King. You know it's the only way. You'll die otherwise.

He trembled. This would give the creature more control over him, of that he had no doubt. Yet he could live with that. He had to.

Do it, then.

Already done.

In the reflection there now appeared two eyes. One was his own, normal and safe. The other had black sclera and blazing yellow iris.

It winked at him, and he shuddered, clapping a hand over it involuntarily.

Be seeing you, partner…

"Did you sleep well, Aikawa-san?" Izuru greeted him politely, standing outside the hostelry in the pre-dawn chill.

"Like a baby, my friend!" Love flashed a happy smile and clapped him on the shoulder. "I tell you, there is nothing like a woman's arms to help a man rest easy!"

Lieutenant Kira winced but endured the hearty gusto. "I… suppose you're right."

"I'll tell you the details later." The bushy-haired Vizard glanced around, completely ignoring the cloud of despair that passed over Izuru's features at this prospect. "What's Rose up to? Now don't tell me he's still abed! If I have to do this, then there's no way I'm letting him weasel out of it."

"Pardon? I thought he was with you."

"Actually," a new voice broke in, and they turned to find Rojuro Otoribashi sidling down the street of Seireitei wearing a tired smile. "I had my own intimate business to take care of, dear chaps. Rest assured, I won't be sharing tawdry details, with you or Lisa when we get back."

"Well, aren't you more fun than a barrel of Hollows early in the morning?" His perverted partner stuck his hand in the pocket of his kimono and produced an Edo-era skin mag, bound with velvet and lovingly hand drawn. Kira blanched as he began to peruse the dirty item, while Rose simply lifted an eyebrow in long-suffering resignation. "Say, you got bedhead or something?" Love inquired, flicking a glance up from his illustrated treasure. "Your hair's a mess."

"Nice of you to notice." The strawberry-blonde rolled his eye disparagingly, the other one being hidden by a fall of his long curly hair. "Actually, I'm trying a new do, based on young Kira's example. You'll find it's all the rage these days in the noble circles."

His own lank fall of pale hair did nothing to hide the distinct look of trepidation the Greyhound Company lieutenant now sported. "Ah… well, fashion changes so quickly, don't be surprised if no one else is wearing their hair like that today, Otoribashi-san!" To cover his chagrin he promptly sought to change the subject. "Are those new glasses, Aikawa-san? I seem to recall you having a different pair on yesterday."

Love reached up to touch his dark shades, eyes hidden behind them. "Oh… uh, yeah. My old pair, they… well, she told me that it would enhance the mood, so I let her do it, and next thing I know they're in so deep that neither of us could…"

"Yes, thank you!" Kira spun away and trod purposefully off. "Let's commence with the itinerary, we've got a busy day ahead of us! First I'll escort you through a tour of the Halos, then we'll stop by a few of the newly fashioned planes, Vanaheim is coming along quite nicely, and Ryūgū Palace has earned its spot at the top of the most acclaimed places to visit, so I suggest we…"

The two Vizard exchanged identical grins before taking up step behind their guide. Some people you just couldn't help yourself with.

At a sign from Tezima, her overweight ally disgorged the contents of his second stomach. In moments a large pile of shattered implements took up space in the forsaken forest of Hueco Mundo.

The avatar of Tia Halibel observed this offering. "You left nothing behind?"

"We got everything that was there," the chameleon arrancar supplied.

"Well done." Halibel selected the largest piece and held it up for inspection. Even in her huge hands, the blade of the Sokyōku halberd appeared gigantic. She inspected the broken execution weapon for a while in silence. "So then… what became of Grimmjow?"

This question was addressed to Loly and Menoly, who cringed openly. "We don't know," Menoly admitted. "We think he might have been captured by the shinigami. Or killed."

"And why was he in a location other than the one I assigned to him?"

They all looked to Tezima then. She reflected how a leadership role in this crew most often meant the lesser members felt it was your job to take the brunt of any potential threat. It was tempting to just throw them all to the wolves and see how well they fared. But she had never been one for ducking out on responsibility. "He wanted an opportunity to settle things with Kurosaki Ichigo, or whatever that thing might prove to be." This next part was much more perilous, but in for a penny… "He also said Aizen should get used to not having everything he wants."

To her surprise, Halibel actually laughed at this, a low disturbing chuckle. She shook her bloody head from side to side. "I'm sure he will appreciate hearing that as much as I do." Halibel put down the Sokyōku fragment and settled back to regard the small collection of Hollows before her. "Well, then. That leaves only the matter of your reward."

Enfain Tezima tensed, as did her packmates. Lot of ways this could go bad for us…

Upon noting her anxiety the vasto lorde grinned wolfishly. She then presented her fist to them. When it opened, there was a small glowing green orb nestled in her liquid palm. "If your leader should return, he'll find what he needs to know by following this. And please give him my regards. I look forward to working with you again."

Grimmjow's second-in-command stepped forward and gingerly retrieved the spell item in question. When she touched it the sphere instantly absorbed into her skin, causing Tezima to gasp. Nothing harmful took place, however. Instead there came a newfound sense of direction, like a message telling her where to go…

She pondered this information before bowing to the Segunda Espada. Tezima turned and led her comrades away from that place, leaving behind the artifact they had risked their lives to win without even knowing what it had been for.

"So what now?" Loly suddenly asked as they slipped through the white forest. "Maybe Grimmjow really is dead."

"He'll be back," Tezima replied in confident tones. "She wouldn't have bothered to pay us if he were gone. They're keeping an eye on things over there, so most likely she already knows what the deal is. If the shinigami captured him, he'll just use Plan B to bust out."

"What's Plan B?"

Tezima shrugged. "Got me. But Grimmjow seemed pretty confident he could get out of that place when I brought it up before. If you want to know how, feel free to ask when we see him again."

No more was said on the topic, and the loosely knit band of hunters set off towards their territory.

Ichigo and Zangetsu stood together in his topsy-turvy inner world. Before them was a blue pyramid of demon magic, and within that sat the Hollow, resolutely facing away with arms wrapped around its knees.

He tried again. "So who could put you through the ringer that bad, huh? Was it Ulquiorra? Did you bite off more than you could chew?"

His doppelganger still refused to respond.

A glance at Zangetsu earned nothing but a grim frown, so Ichigo decided to switch tactics. "I've got a pretty good idea what you went through, considering I went through it too. I know how scary it must have been to you …"

"Piss off, King! I wasn't scared!"

Finally, something to work with. He pressed his advantage. "I think it should be obvious to all of us by now that you really don't know what you're doing with this whole 'out-of-body' thing you've got going. Whoever's behind it clearly doesn't have your best interests at heart either if they threw you into a situation like today. Don't you think it's time we both knew who's behind it all?"

"Your mother."

For a moment Ichigo nearly lapsed into a Hadō recitation, he was so angry. But he fought down the fury. That only helped one of them. "You nearly got us both killed. How'd you manage to swing that? Was it just another case of assuming you could handle anything and everything on your own? Cuz that's one trait I'm ashamed to say we share."

"Mind your own business!"

At this Ichigo actually laughed. "Dude, this is my business! I can't believe you really said that! Talk about putting your foot in your mouth."

The Hollow sank back into sullen silence. Further attempts to elicit a response proved futile. Eventually the master of this domain threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine, stay in there and lick your wounds. Tell yourself whatever you need to make this okay. I've got a life to get back to." He turned to leave.

"King…"

Ichigo paused.

"I'm sorry… for what I said about your mom."

Without turning around he offered, "Forget it."

The inner world faded into whiteness around him. An approaching sense of weariness and lethargy let Ichigo know he was coming back to a physical orientation. Upon opening his eyes he found himself in the hospital bed of a private room. Warm orange light of dusk was streaming through a window. Yuzu and Karin curled up in a large chair together, both asleep with hands clasped. The sight helped him forget how utterly wasted he felt.

"Ichigo?"

Any remaining pall was dispelled when Rukia leaned over his bed wearing a look of concern. He couldn't help but smile. How many times am I going to make you fret, Rukia? Probably a lot. We're just getting started, after all.

"M'fokay?" His tongue obviously hadn't recovered as sufficiently as his spirit. But she got the idea.

"Your father is here, and the ruler of the hospital, Ishida-sama. Nanao Ise and other mages of Soul Society are on hand to see to your needs as well. You're going to be fine, Ichigo."

Hearing her say that made it true. They stared into each other's eyes, and right then he knew this was the perfect chance to kiss her. The one he had been waiting for. As a way of saying… uhh…

While he was busy pondering the subtle intricacies of bedside romance, the morphine drip put Ichigo to sleep before he even knew it.

Rukia watched his eyelids drift close. The sight of him sleeping peacefully served to take up all of her attention, making it hard to look away. There was something so gentle about Ichigo like this.

She thought about kissing him, but decided to save that for a more appropriate time.

To be continued…