End of the Plunge, Peeps. Tell me how you liked it. Leave reviews, as always. I like constructive criticism.

The blizzard finally began to subside, only a frozen mist remained. Yoruichi and Urahara seemed less worried than Soi-fon, but they hadn't fought him yet, so they didn't know how fierce he was. He tossed his new weapon absent-mindedly in his hand, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

His body had vastly changed. His arms were fully covered in bony white armor with extended elbow guards, flared pauldrons, clawed gauntlets and bladed knuckles. His chest was exposed, revealing his six pack and hollow hole. He wore a tattered black waist-cape and a fuming shawl that was flowing in the wind. His face was covered in a bone mask fragment up to his nose, similar to harribel, making him look like some kind of oriental gladiator. Bony armor covered his legs and thighs, forming into a pants-armor covering the groin. Plaster-white bone cleats covered his feet, with spiked tips for kicking. All in all, he was an incredibly imposing figure, unlike in his base form when he looked more like a hooligan. His body was his weapon now, not just his Zanpakuto. Every part of him was designed to work in cohesion to obliterate his foes with the utmost efficiency, unlike his fake resurreccion

Which was far slower and clunkier than Arron would have liked. He sighed, flexing his spiritual pressure, sending a radiating Shockwave across the battlefield that floored weaker lieutenants and caused the captains and Espada to see what caused the disturbance. His exhale was cold, far colder than freezing, and a mist expelled from his lungs that froze the air around him. His body temperature was far below freezing, helping him spread his frost and causing the ground around him to prickly with ice crystals like a spreading plague. He could sense the three eyeing the cloud nervously, and he cracked his shoulders and neck before crouching and preparing to fight.

Soi-fon seemed to be anticipating something now, because she angled Suzumebachi in a defensive stance in an effort to ward off any sword attacks.

A shame he didn't have a sword anymore.

He threw the tail end of his Kusarigama, which was a metal ring with a razor edge, out from the mist and into Soi-fon. It slammed into her with the force of a speeding locomotive, cutting through her Haori and leaving a nasty cut on her chest as she flew into a light post, shattering it in half. Yoruichi reacted like a speeding bullet, appearing next to Arron with a flash step and kicking him. He blocked it with his forearm and swung at her with the blade of his Kusarigama, but she blocked and redirected it with a powerful reiatsu technique before kicking him through a wall and following up with an axe kick that would've made Bruce Lee proud. He spun on his back and flipped to his feet, hooking her leg with the crook of his ankle to unbalance her before punching her with an open palm and sending her into the leftover ruins of the same wall he'd just crashed through.

That left Urahara to finally act. Unlike his two companions, he was a lot more cautious, flash stepping out of the way to prevent Arron's Kusarigama from impaling or wrapping around him with it's chain before drawing his sword. "Sing, Benihime!"

A massive crimson blast erupted from his blade, heading straight for Arron. He swung the ring of his Kusarigama forward in an arc, a bout of frost engulfing Urahara's crimson wave of reiatsu. The frost absorbed and neutralized the attack, consuming the Reiryoku expelled. Urahara's eyebrow rose slightly as the attack dissipated in the air, causing the frost to spread further.

"I've never seen something like that before. I guess I'll have to improvise."

The shopkeeper flash-stepped behind Arron before stabbing him through his ribs with his sword before he could react. Arron spat out blood and elbowed him in the lip, splitting it. The shopkeeper stumbled back, but didn't get far as Arron was able to ensnare him with the chain of his Kusarigama before swinging him downward and into the pavement. Yoruichi flash stepped behind him in an attempt to get the upper hand on him, but failed, kicking at air. He cut her arm open with the bladed ring, the turquoise colored steel gleaming like an illuminated fang. Clutching her arm, she sent a flurry of kicks his way, attempting to stun him before pulling out a Kunai from her jacket and thrusting at him. Arron sidestepped it and tied her arm with his chain, using it as leverage to throw her over his shoulder before catching Urahara's sword with the Kusarigama, hooking it and kicking Urahara away to disarm him. Beniheme simply flew back into his hands, however, and Urahara stabbed him again, this time in the stomach. Arron blocked another swipe and dodged a thrust, throwing the now entangled Yoruichi into Urahara's arms and sending them both flying while freeing the entire chain of his weapon to use on Soi-fon, who had recovered.

"Having fun, little bee?"

"Don't call me that!" She growled. Arron just smirked wider, swinging both sides of his Kusarigama before throwing the bladed ring at her. She held up her sword and blocked it, only to find the main blade on the other end of the chain crash into her neck from above, piercing her shoulder blade. Arron then pulled both back and swung in a flurry of sweeping strikes, both ends assaulting Soi-fon in conjunction, who had a much harder time blocking due to her ruined shoulder. She was cut across the chest again, then her left leg, then her right arm, the wounds each beginning to sprout frost like a growing mold on bread. The frost itself began to hinder her movements and restrict her Reiryoku, causing her Zanpakuto to return to it's original state.

"You're not in a very good position, are you?" he asked. "You can't even use your Shikai now, so how are you going to beat me?"

She panted for a few moments before grinning. "I won't, but they will."

That's when he felt Urahara's blade pierce his chest again.

"Son of a bitch." He cursed under his breath before elbowing him in the chest and wrapping the chain around Urahara's neck, throwing him over his shoulder and into the air. Yoruichi kicked at him again, then struck him with several more, which he blocked with his arm plates, before she kicked his chest the hardest, sending him sliding across the ground. He retrieved both ends of his Kusarigama and used them to fend off Yoruichi and Soi-fon. Aoifon trusted with her sword, but he kicked her away, wrapped her with the chain, and yanked her towards him, sending her flying In his direction. He extended his fist and used it to lariat her with his spiked knuckles, breaking her nose and leaving her face mangled. He then swung her up into the air and back down into pavement, rendering her unconscious.

That left Yoruichi and Urahara.

Yoruichi didn't look too hot, but Urahara wasn't that miffed. He twirled his sword by it's red horsehair sash and chuckled. "You're tougher than you look, I'll give you credit for that. But I've got more important things to deal with, so why don't you just die? I don't have much time left."

Arron just swung both ends of his Kusarigama before tightening them out and grinning. "I came here to let off some steam, I'll take as long as I want."

Urahara's usually calm and relaxed facade hardened like stone almost instantaneously. "Then I'll have to become serious."

Arron chuckled for a moment, but Urahara wasn't joking. He flash-stepped in front of Arron far quicker than he imagined the scientist could, slashing across his chest. Arron backstepped and swung the razor ring at Urahara in a short arc. Urahara dodged before striking again, this time at Arron's shoulder, cutting through his rapidly growing hierro. Arron grit his teeth, surprised at Urahara's newfound skill and strength, realizing that he was definitely holding back previously.

"You're really starting to ruin my plans. I'm not sure why I hadn't factored you in earlier… that's unusual." Urahara scratched his misshapen Goatee and cracked his neck. "I always have plans for my opponents."

Arron grinned. "What a shame, I'd love to.see what you would've had planned for me."

Urahara's eyes narrowed. "No, you wouldn't."

In a flash, Urahara appears behind Arron, far faster than ever before, and with one smooth motion the Erudite lopped off Arron's right arm like it was made from butter. Arron shuddered in pain and jumped back, feeling the incomprehensible sting of losing a limb burn like a nightmare.

"Son of a bitch," Arron cursed, his breaths shallow "you caught me there-" he was pushed back even farther as Urahara impaled him through his stomach, causing him to vomit blood as they both flew backwards, eventually Urahara slamming him into a wall. Urahara swung Benihime again, sending several more waves of crimson energy towards Arron, but this time he couldn't dodge or deflect them in time, causing him to tank the blows. The force ruptured the building he had been thrown into, causing it to crumble and collapse onto Arron and leave a mess of dust and debris. Irahara scoffed at how easy Arron was dispatched. "Amature. I was expecting more from Aizen's best."

There was no response from the rubble, so Urahara walked off, spotting Arron's strange friend and hoping to have a chat with her.

:Play Bleach: Nothing Anymore during this part of the chapter:

Gardevior watched in awe as Arron out-maneuvered and eventually defeated all the enemies he descended upon. The young woman with the black hair had easily been dispatched, almost as if Arron was trying with her like a cat toys with it's prey. Her broken body was scattered in the rubble of one of the many buildings in the city, exhausted and bleeding. The black woman with purple hair wasn't fairing much better, gripping her ruined arm to slow the excessive bleeding.

But then the blonde man got the upper hand.

Arron had been buried under the pile of rubble after the blonde warrior had cut off his arm. The battle was obviously over, Arron couldn't keep going on like this.

That's when she realized: was he dying? To die during a plunge meant death in the real world as well, that included both the psychic and the patient. If Arron died here, then everything was lost.

That wouldn't do.

She teleported next to the Rubble, digging it up to retrieve Arron, only to be confronted by his enemies. The blonde man turned back around, obviously very interested. "Arron seems to have a very interesting friend. You should leave, though: this isn't your fight."

Gardevior scoffed. "You have no clue."

Urahara chuckled. "Yeah, you're probably right. I don't even know what you are."

Before she could respond, the ground under her shifted, revealing a very angry Arron. He rose up from the rubble, breath rasping, and looked at his stump with annoyance, like he'd gotten a paper cut rather than losing a limb. Gritting his teeth, frost began to congregate around it, covering the flesh and bone and expanding outward. Then it solidified before shattering into a million pieces, revealing a regrow arm. Gardevior was absolutely flabbergasted, but both Arron and Urahara seemed to think that it was just par for the course. Arron flexed his new arm before grunting and picking up his kusarigama, swinging it instinctively.

"That really wasn't cool, man."

Urahara didn't seem to care. "I'll do what I need to do."

Arron nodded, preparing to swing his weapon. "Of course you will."

But before their blades could clash, the world turned grey and paused. The air vibrated like a swarm of angry hornets. Urahara was frozen in place, expression unchanged from when he and Arron were conversing.

Arron paused and looked up to see two figures standing out from the rest, their movements still fluid. One was Aizen, same as before, casually warding off a blonde woman with skin similar to Arron's and multiple facial tattoos dressed in very suggestive armor. On her arm was a massive sword that clashed against Aizen's to no avail.

Gardevior looked back at Arron, and for the first time since she'd met him, Arron seemed genuinely anxious. He swallowed and released his transformation, allowing his armor to melt away and his kusarigama to return to it's original, sword state. His hands were classy and he seemed genuinely sick.

"What's wrong?"

Arron didn't respond at first, but his breathing was shallow. If she didn't know any better she would've guessed he was dying. He put his arm on her shoulder and sighed in a vain attempt to release some of his tension. "We need to go, find another synapse."

Gardevoir resisted. "Not until you tell me what the hell is going on! The memory froze, that means something important is about to happen…" she looked back up at the warring figures again and realized the implications. "They're what's about to happen, aren't they? They're why this place is so important, and why Aizen sent you here. Something here hurts you."

Arron didn't respond, but he refused to look her in the eye. His fingers gripped his sword so tightly that his knuckles were white. Finally, turning to Gardevior again, he regained some of his confidence and austerity. "This is where he took her from me. Nothing else matters. Now let's go."

Gardevior looked back up at the two figures, feeling the world begin to dissipate as the blonde figure fell from the sky, blood drenching her crippled form. Her eyes looked at Arron, hopeless and confused, as if wondering how her life ended this way. All the while, Arron walked away, seemingly disinterested in reliving the death of this individual who was somehow so important to him. He was not the same aggressive and confident individual from before, he seemed to have almost… shrunk for a lack of a better word.

"Who was she?"

"That's nothing I'll tell you."

Gardevoir scowled. "I'm here to discover these things, to help you. You can't keep denying what happened!"

In a flash, he spun around and slammed her into the wall of a nearby building, seething. "You're one hell of a hypocritical bitch, you know that? Thirty minutes ago, you refused to acknowledge that any of this," he gestured to the ruined city as well as himself, "even existed! Get your nose out of my damn business and get us the hell out of here! There's nothing I can do about it anyway."

"You need to let this go or it will kill you!"

"It already has!"

His statement shook her to the core. What did he mean by that? He was alive! He was standing right in front of her! Did he lose his will to live? Arron shook with rage at her defiance, practically steaming. Whatever was weighing him down enraged him as well.

But before she could continue to speculate, he sighed and released some of his anger. "Every time, it repeats. Every time, I dare to have a sliver of hope and everything is destroyed. I lost her twice already, there is no peace for me. I will be bitter! broken and disparaged until the day my soul dissipates, possibly even after that. Do you understand me? I have nothing left! Everything that I worked for is ruined."

He tossed her aside and cradled his head in his hands. "Everything is… cold and numb to me now…" Arron said quietly. "I lost everyone that I cared about in a pointless war, and for what? I'm tortured by being forced into this shell of a creature, a prison! And everyone expects me to be hunky-dory?" He slammed his fist into the side of one of the few remaining buildings, causing it to crumble like a Jenga tower. "Well they can all go fuck themselves! Let them skip in the grassy fields of their perfect little world. I want nothing to do with it. I'm trapped with them, and in this body. I've lost everything to the very same hope they and all the stupidity want me to embrace! Let me at least keep my bitterness, you passive aggressive, self centered cunt!"

Gardevior wasn't aware that his emotions had caused the world to crumble around them, and it was replaced by the original maelstrom of the frozen wastes she had first spawned in. Except this time it was downright inhospitable. Frost crept up her body like a layer of frozen death, causing her to shiver within seconds. She couldn't feel her limbs or her nose, or anything, really. And unlike before, there was no pale sunlight in the sky, but rather pitch darkness only illuminated by the faintest radiation of Arron's presence, his teal blue eyes like torches in the night. He was panting from the exhaustion of his outburst, finally running out of steam. Gardevior wasn't judgemental of him anymore, but she wasn't sympathetic either. Arron was undoubtedly broken, but he didn't want help. He had a cavalcade of problems for sure, but he was perfectly functional in his own mind, figuratively speaking. He was just an incredibly bitter and reclusive person that was driven over the edge by tragedy.

She could almost understand why he didn't want help, the concept of help seemed so foreign here, so untrustworthy.

"So, that's it then? You just want to stew in the bile of your soul for the rest of eternity?" She asked, attempting to get another rise out of him. If she couldn't help him, she'd at least learn as much as she could. "Because all I see is your regrets piling up in front of you."

"That's all I have at this point," he said, seemingly exhausted. "Regret and bitterness. Funny thing is, they hurt like hell but not as much as when you add hope to the equation: hope makes the pain so much worse."

"Hope for what?"

"Anything, really. Because I'm always disappointed."

She snorted, instantly regretting it as the frost and cool air felt like razors traveling down her sinuses.. "Now you just sound like you're fishing for sympathy."

"Says the person who, about five minutes ago, wanted to help me. I don't want your sympathy, your help or your damn opinion. I want you to open a damn synapse so we can get out of here and we can go our separate ways."

She hummed in agreement before reaching out and finally grasping another synapse. It felt like the exit, a wake up button, but a little strange. Either way, she took it. They were thrown through his mind once again, into a different place. But unlike the sterile, white walls of the lab or the crumbling ruins of Karakura Town, it was warm, humid and far more welcoming. Gardevoir landed on her shoulder, slamming onto the hard asphalt with a wince and a grunt. She sat up, massaging her shoulder before looking up to see the tropical sunset bordered by the leaves of several palm trees swaying in the wind. She was on a winding road heading to God knows where, empty of traffic. She could smell the salt of an ocean breeze in the air along with a whiff of something unpleasantly acrid and burnt, like lit gasoline.

She stood up, peering over the railing of the ledged road, looking down to see rows of houses lining up along the Beach. But closer by was a pile of scrap that was burning, along with a toppled truck that once contained,Basingstoke other things, what looked to be rods of uncut rebar. One of the tires had seemingly popped, causing the truck to swerve and tip over, spilling its contents across the road, and leaving some of it impaled into the scrap. Upon closer inspection, it was a ruined car, most likely from the wreck. The front hood had been impaled by several of the rebar rods, causing much of the internals to combust, and multiple more had pierced the windshield leaving bloody splatters across the leather seats.

That wasn't the most shocking sight, however. The worst was two figures bleeding out on the side of the road, a young man and a slightly older woman. The young man had a rebar rod forced through his chest, and was sobbing while apparently suffocating on his own blood, occasionally hacking up some onto the road beside him. The woman was dead for sure, impaled in multiple places and bleeding out on the ground, a massive pool of blood congregating around her corpse. She had the same blonde hair as the woman in Karakura Town, although cut shorter, and she was missing her facial tattoos, but it was unmistakably her. The man grieving over her dead body was also familiar, with the same corn husk blonde hair and lithe frame as…

Oh no.

Gardevior suddenly realized that she had intruded into another dream, this time a very painful, very personal dream, far worse than anything she'd seen so far. Before, Arron was powerful and capable of composing himself and controlling his emotions, but this was raw and unmitigated pain in the purest sense. Whoever this woman was, Arron cared deeply for her, and that meant she was closer to the source of his pain.

This was the source of his pain.

She hopped over the ledge railing and slid down the hill, landing in a small ditch beside the asphalt. Upon closer inspection, she saw the bloody nature of the situation firsthand. Arron was covered in blood, most of it not his, but that wasn't all. Many of the rods that had pierced the other woman were bent at an odd angle, almost as if she had moved to intercept them before most of them hit their mark. She sacrificed herself to save Arron.

Gardevior thought she was going to be sick, she backed away, only to fall off a ledge that shouldn't have been there, and into what appeared to be another sand dune. The once serene and humid paradise speckled with crimson was replaced with the cold and unfeeling moonlight of Hueco Mundo. But this was different: The original Arron, the selfish, cruel and detached Arron, was standing before a monster similar to those she had spotted roaming the wastes when she had first entered the sand hellscape. But this one was bigger and stronger, and familiar. The same yellow hue of the young woman's hair adorned her mane, and her eyes were the same jade green. But she was fashioned into a monstrous, salamander like form, with massive, uniform teeth lining the rows of her ghastly maw. Arron stood before her, watching her quiver in his presence, but he simply sighed.

"Come, sister, I won't lose you again."

The sand swallowed her whole, and she attempted to scream, only for nothing to come out but more sand. That was until it consumed her whole and spat her out again, this time back into the frozen hellscape where this nightmare all began. Shebrosebtonherbfeet, exhausted and confused, only to return to a combat stance when a rupture formed in the ground before her, revealing masses of tentacles sprouting like weeds in a barren field. In the center of the mass was a singular eyeball, reminiscent of a goat's. It peered at her curiously, as if it was contemplating whether to kill her or not. But in the end it swirled around and thrummed it's multiple appendages across the snow, kicking up another small blizzard. An ethereal voice, smooth and almost… buoyant for a lack of a better word, resonated throughout the land and within her mind all at once.

"So now you have seen what truly troubles my master, his sorrow and regret that consumes him. What say you, planeswalker?"

Gardevior couldn't respond, too confused and startled. The mass of tentacles writhed in an agitated fashion at her lack of a response. "Speak, I have no time for your pathetic mental hindrances, mortal, speak!"

"I… I don't know what to say."

The tentacles fidgeted. "Nay, you do. You believe he is broken, as do I. Look upon this realm, planeswalker. What do you see?"

"I see snow."

"A normal mortal would agree with you, but this is more than just snow. This is his inner world, and it has been reduced to ruin. It is bitter and cold, like his aching heart, and the frost only continues to build as he descends further into decay. He has nothing, and therefore I have nothing."

Gardevior remained silent, having nothing to respond with. The mass of tentacles continued.

"Our time is limited, so I will make this brief. I am asking you to fix him. As much as I vehemently hate to trust outsiders with such an important task, I cannot do it alone. He has lost his way, and you are the only one who could understand him… for now. Lead him to some form of salvation, save his soul. My master is dying on the inside, he has lost all hope. Make it right.

"But I-"

"You have no choice. Go."

And with that, she was forcefully booted from Arron's mind. She woke up in the same labrum as before, panting, her body shivering from what she had witnessed.

Arron stood before Aizen once again. Aizen, to his credit, had chosen quite the decor. He sat upon a throne of fused mirrors, the scenes deflecting off of their polished surfaces shifting as he did and changing like shifting murals. He wore his Espada garb, cradling Kyoka Suigetsu in his lap as he leaned his head on his arm, his elbow resting on the arm guard of the seat. His smile had shrunk, but not by much, just enough to see a shift in priorities.

"So, I suppose watching her die again isn't as traumatic as the first time, is it? That's to be expected from someone like you, Arron."

Arron drew his blade, twirling it absent-mindedly as he thought of the best way to skin Aizen alive. Aizen wasn't exactly intimidated, but he shuffled nervously at Arron's change in demeanor from before, going from the condescending warrior to the downright brutal killer that lay dormant within. Arron jabbed his blade into the ground in one smooth motion before looking Aizen in the eyes once again.

"You've become pathetically predictable, Aizen. Or should I say Kyoka Suigetsu?"

Aizen faltered, the depictions in the throne of mirrors halting before becoming blank, reverting to dark panes of glass. Aizen sat up, gripping his blade, but Arron didn't reciprocate.

"I'm Aizen."

"No, no you are not. You are a shell of what he is. You're an imposter. You're what's left of his sword, embedded within my mind, playing jester with my dreams and memories because you have lost your purpose." Each one of Arron's words seemed to cut deep like razor blades, "but i'm sick of your antics. This ends here and now."

Kyoka Suigetsu shook with anger, his physical form melting and reminding into it's true form. His face was no longer normal, but a gruesome mask painted with blood. His long white hair was messy and hanging haphazardly, his clothes ragged and torn, his white and lavender haori in tatters. All of Aizen's organized presence was gone, replaced by a disheveled mess of a Zanpakuto spirit. But Kyoka Suigetsu wasn't whole, far from it. This was only one piece of the monster.

"I see now. When we were cast into this world, you were separated from your master permanently. That's why you cling to him so much: you're literally a shard of a sword: an imperfect clone."

If Kyoka Suigetsu's expression changed, Arron couldn't tell. "I suppose you're right: I'm all that's left of my master. Therefore, I am my master."

Arron scoffed. "That could be taken in a multitude of different ways, most of them insane."

Kyoka Suigetsu didn't respond, choosing to rest his head on the back of his chair.

"You are deteriorating, Kyoka Suigetsu. You are beginning to disappear. You can't do this forever."

Kyoka Suigetsu stayed silent, but as if Arron had spoken of the devil, his mask cracked. Arron sighed, noticing that Kyoka Suigetsu was refusing to accept reality. "You need to let go."

"Why? This was never supposed to happen. I've been separated from everything I am. I can't let go, or else I'm nothing."

"You haven't been anything since you- we were forced here. You have no power here, no purpose and no identity. You are an imposter, Kyoka Suigetsu, an imposter of what you once were. It's best if you give in and move on."

Kyoka Suigetsu's mask crumbled and fell off, revealing his pale white face. His nose was rigid and angular, his lips thin. His eyebrows were narrow and his eyes were pure black. The rest of his body began to deteriorate with his willpower, becoming dust and ash. The throne shattered into a thousand pieces, the glass becoming dark obsidian right before his eyes. Arron did not think he'd be able to convince Kyoka Suigetsu to commit suicide, but he had succeeded.

"This is it, then. My journey has come to an end."

"Yes it has. Open your eyes and see the world one last time."

Kyoka Suigetsu Obliged, staring off into space as hisbbody crumbled into dust. The world suddenly became brighter for a brief moment.

"It is glorious to see reality for what it is. It's a shame I can do it only once."

Arron chuckled. "No, if you could see it everyday it wouldn't be as magnificent as it was the first time."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Arron willed the world to crumble along with Kyoka Suigetsu, and the world finally became black, his mind entering a soft and serene slumber.