Gardevior sank through Arron's subconscious like an anchor through water, feeling the ever cooling temperature shock her senses. She had slipped past the thin layer of his conscious and into his subconscious, where the memories of the mind lay dormant. This was her first destination, although it was unlikely to be her last: to unlock the darkest secrets of the mind one had to go far deeper. It was a daunting task, one that only a trained and desensitized individual can safely partake in.
She opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings. She was in a frozen hellscape, the ground littered with snow and a blizzard obscuring her vision from every direction. The temperature was very low, but she didn't pay attention to it. This was just an illusion of the mind, one of the thousands of inner worlds that link memories together like a metro station. It could only deter her, not harm her.
Her main concern was finding an exit. She attempted to locate a synapse, a point of breach between this inner world and the next, but the blizzard dulled her psychic senses. This wasn't normal snow, it was something else.
She stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and spit out the first one that floated onto her taste buds. It was horribly bitter and sour, not like real snow. The grey metallic liquid dried up as soon as it touched her skin, creating a thin veil of freezing mist around her body.
The sheer level of detail conveyed was astounding. Most inner worlds could not activate all of the five senses, usually only sight and sound, maybe touch if the world was especially important. To be able to taste the snow and smell the cold air was nothing short of an anomaly.
She shuddered: this world was causing her to fumble on her thoughts. She took a deep breath again, calming her shot nerves and focusing on finding a synapse. A dull light shined through the storm, something important for sure, most likely a memory. She slowly traveled towards it, ignoring the rapidly decreasing temperature around her. This world seemed to be becoming more hostile the longer she remained.
She reached the light and pushed through, falling again, but this time at high speed. This world was darker, with pale moonlight shining onto what seemed to be an infinite sea of sand dunes. Nothing else existed besides a large cluster of ruins in the distance, too far for her to reach within a reasonable time frame. She landed on a large sand dunes, crating a cloud of fine dust as she impacted. Luckily, the sand was soft, cushioning her landing.
Gardevior stood up and brushed herself off, observing her surroundings in an attempt to discern her location. This was definitely a memory of sorts, but where? This place reeked of unnatural energy, like an aura, but hostile. It attacked her senses constantly, leaving her nose feeling like she had inhaled seawater and her eyes red. With a grunt, she cracked her neck and waited for the memory to play out in front of her.
As she patiently sat, one large sand dunes rose, revealing a creature hiding underneath. It had massive tusks, beige skin and a white mask covering its face. Fur lined it's humanoid body as it hunched over like a gorilla. It exhaled a vaporous cloud that reeked of death and trudged towards her. It's pupils dilated upon finding prew as a disgusting black tongue reminiscent of tire rubber soaked the teeth of its bone mask in the most disgusting way possible.
Gardevoir charged a flair of cosmic radiation at the tip of her finger, consuming the creature and eradicating it with little effort. It howled as its outline was reduced to ash and it crumbled to dust. It was clearly hostile, but even if it wasn't she would have killed it anyway. She couldn't afford to take any chances. The energy of the creature blipped out of existence like a dot on a radar screen, and she dropped her hand to her side once more. How tedious.
If Arron thought he was scaring her by directing her to his worst memories, then he was horribly wrong. In fact, despite her absolute certainty that this was a memory of his, in some way, parts of it were clearly embellished to terrify her. Perhaps this was a memory of a dream or nightmare? That would explain the fantastical elements.
As much as she wanted to explore, she was running out of time. She had to go deeper before his mind consumed her.
Before she could locate another synapse, a fist sent her flying across the sand dunes and tumbling, kicking up sand as she went. With precision and nimble acrobatics, she was able to slow herself down and catch the ground with her hands, flipping and landing back onto her feet. Her dress fluttered in the cool wind as she stared her new foe down.
Unlike the previous creature she had ever countered, these two weren't monstrous in size or stature, although the one on the left was a giant of a man. The left individual was tall, bald and had strange ridges across his scalp. His arms were like bridge cables, as were his legs, and his body was built like a steel car chassis. Most alarmingly, however, was the bone mask fragment that clung to his chin like a aesthetician decoration. A sword hung around a belt on his waist. He wore a shoulder jacket with no shirt, displaying a tattoo on his left shoulder, the number ten in a gothic font.
His partner was a clear opposite of him. Short, skinny and almost frail looking, one would assume he wasn't much of a threat, but when one was within the mind of another, reality didn't apply. Unlike the cruel smile worn by his comrade, his face was blank and uncaring. He too had a sword strapped at the waist, although a shorter one, and a mask fragment sitting on the right half of his scald, covering his black, glossy hair. His green eyes sparkled in the night, analyzing her with clear interest. His number was hidden, but she could tell he was clearly the leader due to the unspoken confidence in his capabilities he exuded.
Their most shocking features, however, were the holes in their abdomens. The left individual had a massive hole in his chest, where his throat met his chest. The other had a small black hole where his collarbones met. They were dark and inky, like buckets of black paint.
"I told you I could get her, Ulquiorra." Said the taller one, his voice deep but still ultimately juvenile in nature. He grinnedbat his self-proclaimed accomplishment like a cruel child would at burning ants with a magnifying glass.
"It appears you did. It matters not, she's still standing." Said the other one, obviously named Ulquiorra, whose voice was as monotone as his appearence. "Your surprise attack failed."
"So? We can just hit her again!"
If it was possible, the expression of Ulquiorra soured, even just a little bit. He obviously didn't like being around this large individual for some reason, despite traveling with him.
"That would be unwise. Remember what happened when you tried that with Korusaki."
The larger individual huffed. "Fine, so what do you propose."
Ulquiorra eyed Gardevior again, looking her over once more before casting judgement. "You know Aizen's orders, Yammy. We must inquire about why she is here."
Gardevior interrupted their conversation once he was finished, using her telepathy to broadcast her thoughts into a voice. "I am here looking for secrets."
Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed. "You will find nothing of the sort here."
"I beg to differ. I have already discovered plenty."
Ulquiorra gestured absent-mindedly to Yammy. "In that case, you cannot be allowed to live. I'll report to Aizen. Enjoy yourself, Yammy."
Yammy's grin widened as he flexed his muscles. Gardevior attempted to read the mind of her opponent and found it nonexistent, typical for a memory. But if his punch was anything to go by, he wasn't anything special.
Yammy pounced with the grace of a water Buffalo, which is to say none at all, and attempted to body-slam his opponent like a Slaking. His attempt failed, as Gardevior simply teleported several feet away and watched as he slammed his elbow into the ground. Faster that the average eye could register, however, he had recovered and charged at her like a locomotive with his outstretched hand, a crimson energy churning within his palm. Gardevoir unleashed her own wave of cosmic radiation, hoping to repel him, but he resisted the superheated gamma rays and nearly crushed her abdomen with a blow resembling being struck with a sledgehammer. She was sure she coughed up blood, but she couldn't tell.
Yammy, however, didn't deliver the attack unscathed. His skin was bubbling at the surface and his eyes were bloodshot. He stumbled for a second before regaining his bearings. To Gardevoir's horror and morbid fascination, his skin knitted itself back together and the burns subsided in a matter of seconds, and he laughed viciously at her expression.
"You can't kill me, I'll just heal after you hit me! Is that all you've got!"
Gardevior steeled her nerves and formated a different plan while he gloated. Psychic, yes, that'll work.
She slammed her psychic energy into Yammy like a wall with enough force to crack bones, but he simply caught it with his hands, his feet being pushed back through the sand as he wrestled with the opaque force of energy. In a feat of herculean strength, he ripped the force from her mental grasp and tossed it aside, causing it to ignite in the sand in a fiery magenta explosion.
Yammy smirked at her, but upon noticing her serene expression returned once again, his smirk died. Then he noticed it: multiple blobs of psychic energy floating around him. They formed into a set of rings and shrunk, containing him like a bakudo. He struggled, only to feel the force tighten and crush him, pushing the air out of his lungs and causing him to growl. She approached him silently, her footsteps leaving no visible trace in the sand.
"You are but an animal. A powerful animal, but only an animal," she told him. "I have no interest in killing you, but I will if I must."
Yammy's expression only grew more unhinged and enraged. "I'll kill you! I'll tear your body apart and feed it to the menos!"
Gardevior was unfazed. "You will not. You cannot."
Those six simple words seemed to push him over the edge. He shattered the psychic bonds containing him with a howl of rage, the power of his voice causing the earth to quake and the sand to shift. Then he grabbed his blade.
"I'll show you, I'll crush you like an ant! ENRAGE, IRA!"
A blood-red mist engulfed the battlefield, concealing his form as he transformed. Gardevior's eyes widened as she looked upon his new silhouette behind the cloak of energy and smoke whirling around him. He was easily thirty feet tall, with multiple legs and massive bony outcrops emerging from his elbows. A massive tail swung around behind him, with what looked like a bludgeon attached to the end.
"I'll kill you." He hissed, his breath alone creating a miniature sandstorm.
Gardevior sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice," she pulled a pendant off of her neck, one holding a shining multicolored pearl in a golden brace resulting woven leaves. She looked back up at him, undaunted by his new level of power. "You are strong, but foolish. I will defeat you here, if you are what is plaguing my client."
Yammy's eyes widened in surprise, clueless to what she was referencing too, but his gaze steeled once again. "Dont make me laugh. Your pretty little jewel can't hurt me?"
"Oh, really? Would you like to test that theory?"
She held it up to the sky, focusing on her master's energy, and requesting her permission to unleash her hidden potential. She was greeted with concern for her safety, and instant approval to use her final trump card.
"Mega Evolve."
With those words, her body was engulfed in a multi-colored light as she changed form. Her dress grew in size, her crests multiplied, and her energy increased by an order of magnitude. Yammy even seemed surprise by the change, baffled by this strange creature's power.
Once the light dissipated, she swung her arms instinctively, unleashing waves of cosmic radiation instinctively that smashed into Yammy with the force of solar flares, burning the surrounding sands into a sickly metallic glass.
"Now, let's finish this, insect," she goaded, sending him into an even greater fury.
He swung his arm down to crush her to no avail, as Gardevior easily dodged. This was followed up by a barrage of attacks from the Cero Espada, all which failed to hit.
"I see your transformation was superficial in nature. How humorous for you to believe it could stop me," she smirked at him condescendingly. "You are a sickly plague on this mortal mind. Allow me to rectify that, doctors orders!"
In her hands formed a massive ball of onyx energy that quickly grew from the size of a basketball to the size of a small car. Yammy's eyes widened as she threw it, sending the mass of dark power flying into his alien form, creating an explosion that engulfed a good kilometer of land around them, although it didn't harm Gardevior at all. Yammy's scream echoed throughout the barren wasteland as he was burnt away by the power, leaving behind a ruined body of a base form Yammy Llargo. Unlike before, he didn't heal, having wasted his energy in his rage state. He twitched and growled, grasping at her legs in anger. She stomped on his hand, twisting her foot to crush it.
"You are pathetic."
His anger grew again, but it was more of a mewling, festering grunt than anything else. Yammy Llargo was thoroughly and completely defeated. She charged up another shadow ball to finish the job before she sensed a presence behind her. She spun around, half expecting to see the frail figure of Ulquiorra again, but this time she was greeted by a different individual. The man was tall, wearing a white overcoat and an undercoat of white etched with black. He wore a painted smirk on his face, his messy brown hair sweeped over to keep it out of his eyes. He reminded Gardevior of the professor at first, maybe it was some manifestation of Cerise, but she quickly realized that this wasn't the case. This man was a completely different monster altogether.
He spoke, his smooth, luscious voice putting her on edge. It was the voice of a psychopath, one who held no concern for those around them. He simply looked at Yammy's burnt body with a disappointed smile.
"How… exhausting. I was expecting more from his release. I suppose perfecting such a unique transformation will take work, though. But you my dear, you are a far more interesting specimen. Dissecting you will be so much fun."
Her new enemy drew his sword and held it downward firmly, causing it to glow. "Shatter, Kyoka Suigetsu."
His blade shattered into an array of sparks and shears of steel shrapnel, leaving nothing in his hands but an empty hilt. She backed away instinctively, only to find herself in his clutches once again, this time with him magically behind her. His expression remained unchanged, his hands calmly running through his hair.
"Leaving while someone is talking to you is very rude."
She flung around and unleashed another wave of cosmic radiation, only for him to walk through the blast unscathed like a mirage through a sandstorm. His smirk never died, his casual stride never breaking out of step, and he held his sword in his hand once again.
"I can assure you, you cannot escape me here. My blade will not allow it."
He held up his hand and flexed his fingers. "Hado #63: Raikoho."
Within the palm of his hand, an arc on yellow lightning burst forward and slammed into Gardevior, causing a cataclysm explosion that seared her skin and burnt her dress. She tumbled backwards before regaining her footing. But her opponent did not let up, and through the acrid cloud.of smog and ozone he rushed forward again, slicing through the front of her shoulder with his sword like a hot knife through butter. She winced, but retaliated with a kick fast enough to prevent her decapitation by his blade. He dodged, but she followed up with another, this time catching him in the chest and warding him off momentarily.
"Bakudo #61: Rikujokoro."
In an instant, several shafts of light slammed into her body, pinning her arms to her sides and crushing her. She struggled against the energy, but to no avail, as it was far to strong for her to break through without drastic measures. Through her blurry vision, she saw him, walking towards her casually as if he was simply asking her for directions. She wouldn't be the first to admit it, but she was terrified of this man… no, this monster. These were not humans. She didn't know why she hadn't considered it before.
In her desperation, she felt an overwhelming force build up around her navel, a white hot energy reminiscent of the core of a star. She realized it was her remaining latent energy flexing against her will, her fight or flight response. She grasped it and began to hastily mold it into something useful: her ultimate attack.
It wasn't uncommon for pokemon to have unique attacks; many found ways to use their powers in new and exiting ways. But to completely rewrite the rules was a other beast entirely. This wasn't a normal attack, this was a force of nature that Gardevior seldom used lest she risk harming or killing those around her.
Right now, however, that's exactly what she wanted to do.
She focused, reaching deep inside her and pulling out that white hot power, allowing it to unleash it's baleful energy across the battlefield like a fog. The superheated energy quickly decimated all the minor creatures that chose to trespass on the battle between these two warriors, and it only grew hotter as the cloud condemned around her, slowly being wrapped around her form. The cosmic radiation amongst a half dozen other kinds of malignant energy twisted together and molded along her skin, dissipating her dress and revealing her toned legs and muscular body. With a burst of energy, her form solidified once more, and combined with the power of her mega-evolution, she had become quite the fearsome foe.
Her body had become slimmer, more athletic in nature. No longer was she bound to the constraints of the dress, but rather she was free to move acrobatically and deliver devastating blows up close and personal. All her wounds, scratches and burns had healed, revealing her luscious, unblemished skin to shine in the moonlight. But most importantly, the energy that surrounded her was hotter than magma, a scorching ten thousand degrees Celsius. She had harvested the energy of the sun itself to use against her enemies. Her form crackled and flared with intense energy like no other.
"My, I must say, your newfound power is quite beautiful. Beautiful and deadly, might I add. You could time to pique my interest!" He said, twirling his blade in his hand nonchalantly. "But you know that won't be nearly enough to kill me, right?"
She didn't respond, instead choosing to flex her limbs and become more attuned with this new form. It had always been quite difficult to attain, even in the mind of another. Luckily, Arron had a strong inner mind, so she was free to unleash as much power as necessary. Hopefully, it would be enough to drive this monster away.
Her foe raised an eyebrow. "So much like a hollow, yet so unlike one as well. You continue to pique my curiosity."
Gardevior narrowed her eyes, her crimson pupils practically screaming for blood. "I don't care what I 'pique' in you. All that matters, is that this fight isn't over. Not even close."
She charged at him before striking his blade with the force of a charging rhino, creating a Shockwave around them. His grin only widened.
Chrysa and Rosemary sat on their little Cafe table, sipping their iced champagne and discussing the recent revelations in their lives. Rosemary described some of her recent into and the successes that followed, and Chrysa had revealed all she knew about Arron's nature, which at this point was cosmetic and biological in nature, things Rosemary wasn't to interested in since she was a world renowned psychologist. She was far more interested in the inner workings of Arron's mind than anything else, something that Chrysa was sadly lacking information on. Rosemwry thus settled for the little she garnered from her mental bond with Gardevior, a bond that was straining more and more each minute.
Something was wrong, Chrysa knew this deep down. She could see it in Rosemary's expreasion, the bags under her eyes, her parched lips and the bloodshot whites of her eyes. Whatever was plaguing Gardevior was plaguing her as well, although not as severely. Earlier Rosemary had a terrible migrane that had only recently began to settle down, and she had begun to shiver and fidget out of discomfort. Chrysa felt glhorrible for her friend, but every time she insisted on helping, Rosemary pushed back, stating that there was nothing either of them could do.
And despite her obvious physical mal-effects, Rosemary's trust in Gardevior was absolute,
and unshakable. Chrysa knew that Rosemary's Gardevior was strong, one of the strongest out there, and that they'd beated multiple leagues, both major and minor, but unlike Rosemary she doubted Gardevior's willpower.
"I know what you're thinking, Chrysa, and I wouldn't try it. To try and remove her from the meld would be a foolish idea. You could kill her, or worse, kill all of us."
Chrysa looked at her in disbelief. "How could it kill all of us?"
Rosemary sighed. "Gardevoir is currently facing a threat within the mind of Arron, a formidable one, possibly even the source of his trauma. The remove her during a fight could send her in to a deep psychosis and cause her to kill us all, and I can assure you none of the pokemon in Cerise Park could stop her. Let her do her job, please."
Chrysa stared down at her half empty champagne glass, swirling it's contents gently to stifle boredom. She'd expected the process to be over by now, usually it took under an hour, but it had gone on for over three hours, and she and Rosemary had run out of champagne. They had run out of things to go over on Arron's condition. They had run out of things to catch up on. There was nothing left to say anymore, thus Chrysa's nerves had become even more tense due to the lack of distractions. She was tempted to call Ash and Goh, but Professor Cerise advised against it, stating that the boy needed to cool off. She disagreed, but she didn't want to overstep her boundaries ahain: Cerise was already stressed and fed up, and Rosemary's interference in his mind would only irritate the problem like rubbing salt into a wound.
Rosemary, to Chrysa's chagrin, wasn't a very cooperative individual either. Her sass and attitude was world renowned, and the both of them had already gotten into two arguments in the past three hours alone regarding the severity of Arron's condition and the depth of his bond with Goh respectively. Chrysa had started wondering if calling Chrysa had truly been a mistake: something was keeping Gardevior anchored in Arron's mind, or on the flipping, blocking her from completing her goal.
While Chrysa was deep.in thought, Rosemary began to spasm. Chrysa rushed to her, but it was too late. She rushed into the bathroom and Chrysa could gear the sounds of vomiting echo through the thick wooden door. There was little she could do but wait, so she waited for her friend.
After what seemed like hours but most likely lasted several minutes, Rosemary cleaned herself up and had removed her sunhat and pendant, letting it swing in her fingers. She looked incredibly pale and fatigued, and she was sporting a severe nosebleed. She handed a napkin to Rosemary, who wiped the blood off her upper lip as gracefully as she could and huffed, finally meeting Chrysa's gaze.
"I was updated. I get those every once and a while during a mind meld. I have a clearer picture than before, but they can be rather violent in nature, as you can see. Either way, Gardevior is facing stiff resistance, like I've never felt before."
Chrysa wasn't surprised. "What else can we do? Is there any way to help her?"
"No, we just have to hope that she can succeed. And that Arron is willing to reconcile with her."
"What," Chrysa asked, "what do you mean reconcile? What's even going on here? Why would they need to reconcile about anything?"
Rosemary tapped her nails on the table as she spoke. "Some sort of unspoken challenge of sorts. I'm not sure of the details, bit apparentlyArron was not to keen on letting Gardevior in. Until he decided to up the stakes. She's facing something in there that even he's afraid of, even if he won't admit it."
"What is ahe fighting? You have to tell me!"
"Nothing I see is a solid picture, I just get senses, feelings. They come and go sporadically and I'm left to pick up the pieces. Gardevior is to busy to send something concrete."
Chrysa sighed. "I understand. So, what now?"
"We wait."
Arron had long since curled up into a ball. The feeling of that bitch rooting around in his head made him want to puke, but he held it all together as she completed whatever nefarious deed she had came to fulfill.
But he wasn't to concerned, he knew he'd have the last laugh. The severity of his memories should scar her for life. To see hollows and shinigami and mass destruction on the scale he'd seen would destroy her. She wouldn't be able to cope, thuse he hadn't attempted to watch, he probably couldn't anyway. He didn't know exactly where she was, only that she was there.
Her physical form hadn't moved since she had sat down hours ago, still in that cross-legged, meditative position. Her body, however, had changed. She was sporting a nosebleed and her odd plant-like hair, despite remaining untouched, was disheveled and messy. Her breathing had become labored the longer this went on, and she had muttered incomprehensible nonsense on multiple occasions like a person in their sleep would.
Arron wondered, even just for a moment, if she would succeed. Maybe if she could reach into his mind, then she could find something in there, maybe… find out if Aizen's illusion truly had subsided. Come to think of it, she could probably help more memories of his past resurface, they'd been awfully quiet recently. He'd do anything to hear his sister's voice again.
Arron sighed. He hadnt thought this through. He should have made a request instead of goading her, but his pride wouldn't allow it. He was so sick of being treated like he was mentally ill for mature and preferring isolation. It wasn't his fault most of the other creatures here had the iq of a frog.
The pokemon's breathing hitched again, startling him out of his thoughts. Damn, he was getting soft. He needed to start fighting again.
Something was seriously wrong with her, though. She was visibly sick, and hunching over, as of what she was doing was ruining her body somehow. Arron couldn't stand this anymore. Hebhad acted rashly for sure, and while she was a bitch, he had a feeling thenmore he resisted, the sicker shed become and he'd be damned if he'd have her death on his conscious.
Shit, he'd have to clean up after his mistakes again.
He didn't know how to reach her, so he figured the best waybto do so was to reach into his own mind. How would he do that, though? He wasn't a psychic type, he didn't have crazy mind powers.
What if he went to sleep? Then he could ignore his conscious and focus on the subconscious. That's where she'd be, right?
He focused on falling asleep, closinging his eyes and hoping the blinding white tile of the lab room didn't keep him awake. Then he began to feel relaxed, willing to fall asleep. So he took it, and he went under, letting his dreams take over.
The first sign that showed Arron was asleep was that he was back in his human form, which he had missed dearly. Flexing his fingers, he felt the hilt of his sword and the biting cold of the tundra around him. He opened his eyes to see the frozen hellscape that was his inner world, winds ripping all around him like icicles biting into his skin.
Arron didn't know why Arrancar had these. Their weapons, unlike traditional shinigami Zanpakuto, didn't have spirits attached to them, but rather served as seals for their full hollowfied forms. They were very cut and dry, far less cumbersome than having a extension of your soul vie for dominance.
That didn't mean they didn't show some basic sentience, though.
When a normal individual would first see this place, they'd see the frozen wasteland that was his inner world, just an all-encompassing and never ending blizzard made up of his spiritual energy. It was a hostile and reactionary force that would wear away anything that entered except for the master of this place, namely him.
But for Arron, this place held a deeper meaning, the key to his true potential and power. It hid itself, preventing anyone, even Aizen, from truly comprehending his true capabilities. This was the place where the arrancar equivalent of a Zanpakuto spirit resided.
He drew his blade and slammed it into the ground, and it sunk into the snow before splitting the earth into many pieces, revealing a massive, dual-pupiled eye staring back at him. It rose out halfway, like a hermit crab peering from it's shell, before massive tendrils erupted from the ground as well, surrounding them both.
'Welcome home, my master. Your spirit had become faded since the battle with Aizen, and I feared for your life. Are you safe?'
"As safe as I can be. I need your assistance with a matter of great importance."
The eye remained unblinking, awaiting some form of command. Arron kicked some snow and ran his hand through his hair.
"I believe you have already encountered the intruder, correct muerte congelada?"
'Yes, my master. She has escaped my grasp, she knew how to navigate the storm. Forgive me.' It's voice was wrought with genuine remorse as it explained It's self perceived failure. Arron had always hated that about Muerte Congelada, but he never had the heart to correct his zanpakuto spirit on It's self-deprecating worldview. Mainly because he wasn't a dick, but also because he had a feeling that doing so would be incredibly hypocritical to do so. Arron had always held himself responsible for the deaths of his comrades, whether they died due to his failures or not.
"It's of no consequence, but she is important. Where is she now?"
'Deeper, my master.'
"That doesn't answer my question."
'It is the only answer to your question.'
"Then elaborate for me."
'The mind is like an ocean. The deeper you go, the more pressure and resistance you will face. The individual you are looking for is within your memories and dreams, fighting another intruder.'
Arron's gaze hardened. "What other intruder?"
The massive eye of Muerte Congelada twitched in irritation. 'Unknown.'
"You aren't helping."
'Forgive me my master.'
Arron groaned. "Just… help me here. Guide me to her, she is in great danger."
'But you previously stated that she was an intruder. Why not allow the intruders to eradicate each other?'
"Because I need her for something."
'Of course my master'
The blizzard subsided, leaving a serene and chilly expanse. At the edge of his vision, wind blew snow into a vortex, opening a portal to another part of his inner world.
'I wish you the best of luck master.'
"Thank you, I have a feeling I'm going to need it."
He approached thenportal and slipped through, escaping the cold and entering a new kind of nightmare. But this wasn't the place he wanted to be.
"Not this place again."
A couple of notes explaining the more controversial parts of this chapter.
First of all, and I know ow this will be the biggest question, was Gardevior actually fighting Aizen? I don't want to spoil anything, but I can say that the Individual she fought wasn't nearly as powerful as Aizen was, especially with the Hogyoku. For her to be able to hold her own against someone like Aizen would be all sorts of absurd. Not to mention his Kyoka Suigetsu would prevent him from being defeated. If you want the entire Aizen plot to be addressed, then be patient, because I have stuff coming out for that.
For the second elephant in the room, this is a much simpler answer. These fights are based on characters from Arron's memory, and Arron only saw Yammy's second release once, when he first attained it. At that time, which was at least a year before the winter war, Yammy was far weaker and far less capable than even the Yammy that Ichigo, Kisuke and Yoruichi fought in Karakura Town. It's stated in both multiple datebooks as well as directly by Ulquiorra that Yammy hadn't mastered Pesqisa or Ceros, amongst several other things, and had his arm cut of by a very unimpressive Ichigo with no mask mastery that would have been stomped by Ulquiorra at the time if he didn't have bigger fish to fry at the moment. So yes, it's entirely possible for a pokemon like Rosemary's Gardevior, who is no joke by pokemon standards, to kick his ass in mega-evolution form.
Please, review. I really want constructive criticism for this story, because I have none and I don't know if people like this story or not. It helps a lot, I promise.