Arron slept in his bush for the remainder of the night and into the morning, digesting the gargantuan amount of food he had eaten the night before. Two sandwiches, several fruit he didn't recognize, two slices of cake, and even some of the wine. He shied away from the chocolates, though: he didn't know if he'd end up poisoning himself like an idiot, and he didn't want to risk his life over a chocolate covered strawberry.

He wasn't really ashamed, he'd eaten more as a Gillian, although he didn't think souls were in any way similar to strawberry cake, but who cared, its not like anyone was going to hold him to that standard. Its not like this world had hollows… probably.

Areon didn't want to keep sleeping, though, because every time he fell asleep he dreamed about his time as an Arrancar. All his mistakes, all his regrets, his sister. Harribel didn't deserve the fate she had received, but for some reason, Harribel, one of Aizen's most loyal followers, had been deemed unnecessary. She hadn't failed him, she was still useful. Maybe Aizen was just that arrogant, so drunk on hisbown newfound power that he perceived himself as invincible. Arron wouldn't put it past him.

Arron remembered his fight with the boy, Hitsugiya. His powers were impressive to be sure, especially for his age. He had even been a fair match for his sister, coming close to killing her on multiple occasions. That just wouldn't do. Aizen had trusted Arron's judgement, so he'd never given him special orders like he had to Ulqiorra, rather preferring him to be a wildcard. Thus he had observed Ichigo's battle with Grimshaw, ready to step in of Ichigo had succeeded. And he had, but at a grave cost. But Grimmjow's pocket dimension hadn't lasted as long as he'd predicted, and Aizen's desire of having those two fight were clear. Thus, he hadn't intervened. He was sure that Ulqiorra could handle Ichigo even if he was healed by the girl.

So he had set out to pay a pleasant visit to his sister and possibly kill some Shinigami while he and Gin waited for the right moment to strike at the heart of darkness himself. Gin assured Arron that he had a plan the day before, one that would work, but Arron didn't trust Gin's capabilities. He wanted this mess to end and Aizen's demise to be quick.

That wouldn't happen.

First, he decided to toy with the boy, Hitsugiya, and to give his sister some room to breath. The boy was capable, but there was a reason Arron had been one of the first Vasto-Lordes Aizen had sought out. He had offered him the rank of 2, impressive indeed, even higher than Barragan would have been at the time. But he had refused, stating that he had no interest in fooling with the balance of the world. His sister's intervention, however, had thrown a wrench into his desire to remain neutral. He didn't trust Aizen, not at all, and he didn't trust his sister's welfare when his spindly, twisted, scheming hands were the one's pulling the strings. So he reluctantly joined Aizen as one of his secret projects, along with wonderweiss. He would simply be a skirmisher, fighting battles wherever he chose. Arron was okay with that.

Hitsugiya had put up a valiant fight, but he was no match for Arron's sheer power, and Arron savored the look of despair in hisbeyes when he learned who was truly the master of frost.

Impressive, truly. When I heard a boy was one of the captain's of the Gotei 13, I was skeptical for sure. But you had exceeded my expectations.

Arron had willed another of the boy's ice dragons to crumble with a lazy wave of his hand, giving the boy a run for his money without even drawing his sword, much less activating his resurreccion. Hitsugiya grit his teeth and steadied his blade.

But your arrogance in the strength of your zampakto will be your downfall. You say it is the most powerful ice based zampakto? That may be true. But unlike you, I am ice and frost incarnate. Your Zampakto bends it's will to me even as it struggles to fulfill your commands and desires. Even your own sword recognizes who is superior.

He used his sonido to quickly flank him and release a Bala of frozen energy, shattering his wings without even breaking a sweat. Hitsugiya fell from the sky and crash landed into an empty fruit stand, struggling to regain his footing, but he didnt have the time. Another Bala struck him, this time in the gut, sending him through a window and into an empty office building a block away. Several more dragons erupted from the wreckage, howling at Arron, but when they crashed into him, they shattered like window panes thrown onto the ground, leaving him unscathed.

This is getting old. Just surrender, you have no chance against me.

Hitsugiya struggled to his feet, a waterfall of blood dripping down from his scalp and forehead. More blood was running down from his lips, suggesting that Arron's Bala had ruptured an internal organ or two, or maybe knocked out some teeth. The boy could barely stand.

Your determination is admirable, but at this point you are more of a nuisance than a threat, like a mosquitoe. Why won't you quit?

Hitsugiya didn't respond, but he could feel the boy flexing his spiritual pressure, searching for something, or someone. Then he identified who: a girl, no older than him. Arron cracked a condescending smile.

Now I see why. Its that girl, isn't it? The girl Aizen had run through with his sword? I can respect your dedication, it would be hypocritical of me not too. But if you really want to save her, killing me, or at least trying to, isn't going to get you anywhere. So I'll make you a deal; take the girl, and leave. Let me finish my work here and you both won't be harmed. I can assure you.

Hitsugiya clenched his teeth even harder. You can assure me nothing.

So you say. But look at me with a straight face and tell me you didn't think about taking me up on that offer. I can wait.

Hitsugiya never denied his claim, he simply hardened his glare.

That's what I thought. I knew you wanted to because you never mentioned anything about loyalty or honor, or about the balance of the world, It probably never even crossed your mind. You are so far separated from this war for the same reason you are so close to it: you aren't attempting to preserve the balance of the world, you are just attempting to avenge the one you love. But you can't avenge them and you never could. All you can do is save them. Arron unsheathed his sword and raised it in a casual stance. You have your opportunity to do that now. Take her, and flee. Live for another day, live with her. You have an eternity, so make it count.

Hitsugiya didn't respond. All he did was raise his stance once again, and restored his wings.

Arron's gaze softened in a rare moment of real, genuine sympathy. You made the wrong choice. Extinguish: Muerte Congelada.

A massive blizzard erupted from Arron, with winds so strong they sent rubble flying and unbalanced the lesser combatants on the battlefield. The already chilly winter temperatures dropped another few dozen degrees, causing lakes to freeze over and animals to flee. A newfound spiritual pressure nearly crushed everyone who wasn't a lieutenant or higher, and all fighting stopped as dozens of pairs of eyes turned on him as the frost receded, leaving the morphed form of Teir Arron behind.

Like his sister, little changed when he transformed: his robes had transformed into plates of silvery bone armor covered in a fur coat, a large, bushy tail swishing side to side behind him, and his hands were covered in two massive, ornate gauntlets resembling the paws of a polar bear. His beard, which was short and cropped before, was now long and braided, resembling a Nordic style. He flexed his paws before extending his massive claws, each an inch long and curved like scimitars. His eyes were slit like those of a snake, but colored a light blue, like the cold and clear waters of the arctic circle.

Arron didn't speak, he simply waited for Hitsugiya to act, yet he didn't. He was covered in a thin coat of ice from the blizzard and visibly shivering, but the same determination still burned in his eyes. He had spirit, he would give him that.

Arron would take that from him first.

With a rapid sonido, Arron flanked Hitsugiya yet again, but he was prepared for this. His blade clashed with Arron's razor claws, but before he could counter, Arron unleashed a cero from his other hand, which transformed into an unrelenting blast of ice so cold that the plants behind him disintegrated from the rapid change in temperature. Hitsugiya didn't yield, however, andattempted to use more of his power to block Arron's attack with a wall of ice. While any normal human would have found it harder than steel, one punch from Arron shattered it like drywall. Another cero pushed Hitsugiya back even farther, forcing him to jam his blade into the concrete to keep his balance, but Arron had prepared for this; The cero of ice quickly became more deadly as individual snowflakes melded to form razor-sharp ice particles that ripped through Hitsugiya like bird shot. Before long, Hitsugiya was a bleeding mess of holes no larger than a watch battery. He held his balance on one knee, attempting to stand, but found it impossible.

It is hopeless. That is my aspect of death, hopelessness. To feel that all the tables have turned against you, to feel that the mountain you are climbing only rises the more you progress. To know that any struggle is meaningless. Hopefully you have learned this lesson.

And with that Arron tossed the body of Hitsugiya aside. He was still alive, but not for long. It didn't matter, though. The plan would all fall into place soon enough...

Arron wondered who won. Aizen had the upper hand for sure, but so had Ulqiorra, and Arron had felt his violent death from the fake Karakura town. The odds weren't hopeless for the Gotei 13. Maybe they'd irk put a phyrric victory. Arron would never know.

Honestly, there was no point in dwelling on it: he could never go back, and he didn't know if he would. He had nothing for him there, his sister was dead, so were Starrk and Ulqiorra, Aizen either won and did something insane to the living world in his quest for power, or the Gotei 13 won and the world returned to it's same corrupt self. Why go back just to reside in Hueco Mundo for an eternity? Here, he at least had some semblance of a goal, if satiating hunger and people watching was a goal. He might be some kind of weird bear-dog hybrid now, but there were worse fates. Hell, maybe he could hop onto one of those trains and hitch a ride around the world, that sounded far better than basking in Hueco Mundo's eternal moonlight.

He tumbled out of the bush and shook his fur before taking in the scenery of the small town. It was rainy out today, with a thick fog blanketing the valley, and there weren't any picknickers for him to rob, what a shame, he guessed that meant he had to get closer to the town. Maybe he'd find something tasty down there. Arron nimbly hopped down the hill, leaping from one outcrop to another before breaking his fall in a relatively soft tuft if grass. His exoskeleton was covered in dew droplets, but that might cover his scent, so he'd let it remain. It was actually very pleasant outside, despite the light shower. The flowers were blooming, the many different birds in the treetops were singing, and the air smelled of nectar and grass. It was a shame there weren't any big metal dinosaurs, that would have tied it all together.

He stealthily made his way to the town by passing through the tall grass surrounding the railroad tracks, sniffing the air to see if he could detect any food. The town actually was very appealing,

and normal people weren't the most observant, so he was sure he'd be fine. Besides, he was craving cupcakes, and he was sure they didnt grow in nature.

Something that bothered him was that everything seemed to avoid him. Maybe he had kept some of his undead traits? While most people tended to not notice hollows, especially not those who were capable of hiding their spiritual pressure, animals could both see and smell hollows, and they tended to avoid them at all costs. Maybe his scent, while greatly diminished, was still enough to drive any curious creatures away? But that had to mean he was very conspicuous, which was a double edged blade. On one hand, he probably didn't have to worry about any wild animals bothering him unless they were confident they could beat him, which was good. On the other, it meant any creature the humans of this town used to track targets would have an easy time finding him. So maybe he should start finding a more reliable way to cover his scent than some dew when he hit the town.

By the time he'd reached one of the roads near the town, it was already midday. The rain had finally stopped and the clouds had parted, leaving the sky clear. And it was sweltering outside, something he didn't appreciate. While his bony exoskeleton was very strong, it was also really good at conducting heat, essentially turning it into a convection oven, which wasn't fun summer heat. He was panting and exhausted, so he changed priorities: water.

He remembered that he hadn't had much to drink in the last sixteen or so hours, just some wine from the bottle the couple left. That was probably a stupid thing to do, but whatever. Maybe cake wasn't such a good idea today. Ice cream sounded better.

He followed the back alleys behind the smaller buildings, looking for any open cafes or food trucks he could rob and occasionally peeping onto the main sidewalks to ascertain the civilian foot traffic, which was picking up. But before long, he'd stopped looking for restaurants in general and started following a peculiar scent, a warm, cinnamon-ish, cake-ish scent that was driving him wild in ways he couldn't describe. He didn't just feel it in his stomach, but around his hollow hole as well, and it felt… heavy, that was the best way to describe it. All he knew was that he had to find it.

He followed the scent through the alleys, dodging the sight of pedestrians and checking the street to try and locate that smell. Eventually, he came across a small food card in the middle of a busy street corner, serving heaping helping small brown pastries along with some vanilla ice cream. Arron licked his chops, knowing that this was it. But how to get some?

At first, he wondered if he could just beg for some? Maybe the people in this world were nicer than they were in his old world. But he was very conspicuous; some of the creatures accompanying their owners on the sidewalk were already skittish, some were even making a fuss, and didn't want to risk an altercation when some of them might recognize him.

He couldn't just downright steal some, he'd have the same problem. He needed a distraction. He spotted a small jewelry shop across the street, so maybe if he circled around the back alleys, he could bust a window and set off the alarms?

So he decided to do just that. Retracing his steps, Arron races to the other side of the street corner and towards the jewelry shop. Nobody noticed him besides a few birds hanging on a power line above him, so he was ready to go. Arron fored a blast of ice onto one of the side windows on a front rectangular booth, shattering it instantly and setting off a blaring alarm. Everyone in the vicinity turned to the shop as Arron dashed back into the alley. He heard shouting and rummaging behind him as the shop owner tried to find who tried to break in. All the while, Arron scrambled up a steel gutter on the side of a small two story shop to get a better vantage point. Most of the people on the sidewalk had dispersed to not be incriminate, but so was the old man selling the pastries. It seemed his plan worked a little to well.

Before the old man could dissappear, Arron jumped from the second story and onto the umbrella hitched to his cart, causing the old man to freak out and trip, banging his head on the metal bar handle and crumbling to the ground. Arron froze for a split second before realizing he had just made a huge mistake. A small pool of blood was forming around the old man's head, and he wasn't even twitching. Arron hopped down from the cart and nudged the old man, but he was out cold, if not worse.

Shit

There was nothing Arron could do, so he instead focused on his prize, the small brown pastries stored in the case on the cart. They were twisted and covered in a kind of sparkly sugar along with helpings of cinnamon, and had a small amount of butter melted on top of the whole batch. In the other case was vanilla ice cream, and good vanilla ice cream as well, with thenlittle speckles of vanilla bean throughout. Arron gorged himself on the ice cream first to cool himself down, which was spectacular, but then he tried a few of the pastries he had done so much work to get. He ate one and immediately began to zone out. He had eaten these before. He could feel it, they were triggering some primal feeling of nostalgia in his soul, and he could picture the bare outline of a memory.

It was warm, tropical even, but not too hot, probably because the sun was setting, blanketing the coast with maroon light. The ocean breeze blew past his hair, leaving a faint whiff of the salty sea behind. He was on a bench next to a boardwalk, with a massive ferris wheel in the distance turning lazily.

He was home.

The smell of the same pastry wafted through the air along with a thousand others, mingling together to form the scent of celebration. He was in front of the local pastry shop a little old cuban lady owned, La Pequena Tienda de los Suenos. Everyone called her Abuela, and she was like a godmother to all the children in the community. She would fry up Bunuelos and give

them to the homeless and the children playing outside, and would give small cakes to the kids who got good grades. Today was a great day for many; it the end of the last day of school, so kids were running down the boardwalk playing while their parents watched, and Abuela had fried up an extra large batch of churros with her special guava mermelada at a discount just for the occasion.

But he wasn't worried about any of that. What he was worried about was who he was sitting next to. Harribel had a pair of khaki shorts and a sleeveless top on, her skin absorbing the waning rays as the sun sank below the horizon. Her eyes were sparkling from the light reflected off the ocean waves. Her blonde hair was mess as usual, and she had a set of dog tags hanging from her neck. Her smile sparkled, she was relaxed and at ease, far from the stern and rigid Haribel she had become as a hollow.

I got to go back tomorrow, my leave is up. But I'm proud of you, you finally got out of the rat race. She had been in the navy, a Lieutenant Commander, and she had come home to witness his high-school graduation, class of 1992, and spend time with their father. Right now, though, it was just the two of them on the boardwalk outside of Vero Beach, eating churros and talking. He hadn't seen her in over a year, so she set some time for just the two of them to talk. Just promise me you'll do something good with your life from now on, you barely passed.

I will, I promise I will. He had meant it.

Good. I can't bare to see you fumble through life, you're to smart for that.

Something told Arron he hadn't been around long enough to fulfill that promise.

But just as quickly as the memory had surfaced, it faded, and shoved Arron back into reality in the process. No! Just one more minute, I need to speak to her, I need to hear her voice, even if it's just a memory!

But as hard as he tried to bring the lifelike memory back, all he could conjure were snippets. The smell of the sea, the sound of her laugh. He couldn't remember it all at once, and it was like agony. His hollow hole throbbed, like it was being stretched closed with with a pair of pliers, and for the first time since… ever, tears spilled from his eyes. He could feel what little part of his heart remained cry with him.

She was all I had.

He sat broken on the Churro cart as the commotion over the broken window and the alarm was starting to settle. Some people were noticing that the old man who pushed the churro cart was unconscious on the ground. A police officer who had arrived at the scene spotted Aron, and pulled out his cordless radio to call for assistance.

Aron sucked up his tears and hopped off the cart before returning to the alley he had come from and running for the safety of the woods. But before he could become anonymous, a large creature landed in front of him with a thud. It was a massive lobster-like creature with two massive claws that looked sharp as knives. It didn't have a mouth, or at least one he could see, and it was incredibly nimble, hopping from one foot to the other in such a rapid succession that it was almost like a blur. Arron growled to threaten the creature, but it was unfazed.

You are coming with me, whether you want to or not. It eyed his claws and teeth, adopting a defensive pose to prevent Arron from getting the drop on him.

Unlikely. Arron replied simply. He wasn't in the mood to toy with this lobster.

The lobster narrowed it's eyes. This is your last warning. Come peacefully and I won't harm you.

I don't do peaceful. Arron readied a cero and fired a blast of ice particles in it's general direction. But the lobster dodged and backflipped, using it's wings to reduce it's speed in the air. It springboard off of the wall of the alley and performed a superman maneuver, lunging at Arron with one oversized claw outstretched and ready to cleave him betwixt. But Arron's thick shell prevented it from harming him, and in the process, Arron bit into it's shoulder and tore a large hole out of it's carapace, leaving a few drops of orange blood on the ground. The lobster jumped back, clutching it's arm with an angry expression.

Ugh, you taste like dirt. Arron replied.

The lobster began to fume. You are only making this more difficult.

I'm not just going to roll over. You're going to have to try harder than that.

His opponent released his grip on his arm and swiped at Arron in rapid succession, attempting to deal some damage, but his exoskeleton easily deflected every attack. In return, Arron released another torrent of ice shards, causing the lobster, who was mid-attack, to block with it's arms instead of blocking, and the results were catastrophic. The shards easily shattered the lobsters shell like it was plastic, leaving spatters of orange blood on the ground. The lobster lost all structural integrity after it's shell was reduced to a shredded mess, and it gurgled as it collapsed to the floor, twitching. Arron attempted to flee, but even more creatures flanked him, some escorting the injured lobster creature to a healer, and the rest encircled him. Most of them were large dogs of some type, some with massive curved horns and a devil tail, others with striped fur and a massive mane like a tiger, and another with black and grey fur and a truly unnerving expression, its red and yellow eyes bugged out.

Surrender, now, before I make you. The hyena-like dog with the red and yellow eyes said.

Make me, ugly.

Ugly growled and charged at Arron, slamming into his side at full speed. He felt it, for sure, but it didn't really hurt much. Ugly, on the other hand, was cradling it's head in it's front paws and whining. The other dogs unleashed their own ceros, massive blasts of fire engulfed Arron even as he attempted to evade the attacks. His exoskeleton heated up like a grill top, steaming, and he felt his insides begin to burn. They relented and Arron backed up against a wall, feeling sick to his stomach, before he vomited up his churros. The other dogs backed up for a moment, and Arron finally lost it.

He unleashed the largest hail of energy he could muster. Engulfing the entire alley and startling his opponents. Hebheard their yelps and cries as the ice shards pierced their skin and sent them stumbling blindly. But one leaped through the storm: one of the tiger-like dogs, which fired a blast of energy point blank into Arron's face, preventing him from continuing his barrage. He tumbled backward and scrambled to his feet, growling, but Arron knew he couldn't do this forever. His insides felt like they were being cooked, and mane and fur was horrifically burnt and singed. He panted as he was backed into a corner by the now wounded, bloodied and very angry dogs, as well as several police officers with more red and white balls. He knew he was beaten, but he wasn't going down without a fight.

But before he could make his final stand, one more dog, far larger than the rest, entered the alley. It was essentially an upside version of the smaller tiger dogs, with an even bigger man and canines the size of steak knives. It growled at him and stamped its foot on the ground.

Surrender. Now.

Arron cracked a tired, condescending smile. I'm afraid I can't do that.

The massive tiger dog was unfazed. This is your last chance before I make you.

The big red lobster said the same thing. I turned him into confetti. I'm not afraid of you.

It's eyes narrowed. You should be.

Faster than a bolt of lightning, the massive tiger dog slapped him with it's ginormous paws, sending him flying into a wall before it unleashed a devastating torrent of fire from it's maw, far hotter than any he had felt thus far. Unlike before, he felt his exoskeleton fiy giving way and melting in certain areas, causing immense pain. But Arron wouldn't show it, showing pain was a sign of weakness, and weakness got you killed.

He stood back up, his exoskeleton dripping down his sides.

I was told to use nonetheless force. I won't kill you, but ill.make it hurt until you surrender or pass out. Your choice.

Arron was getting really sick of these bastard police dogs. He channeled his anger into a Bala on his forehead and charged toward the leader, crashing into it's side and slamming into a way, but he didn't stop there: he kept pushing until he heard ribs cracking. The massive dog howled in pain. He released the dog before slamming his paw into it's head with a fully powered Bala, causing a crater to form in the ground. The dog didn't get up.

Who's next? I hope you like hospital food!

The rest backed up, but he heard a loud shout behind him.

Eat concrete!

A massive foot slammed into Arron's head, throwing his head intonthe ground. He couldn't spot the assailant, but he could sense it's spiritual energy bouncing around above him. He charged up another blast of hail to flush them put, but the enemy crashed into hisbhead with the force of a locomotive, giving him a concussion.

"Now, Goh, capture him."

What?

Before Arron could even react, he felt his body being turned into energy, and the world went black.