The Death and Life of Erza Scarlet

by Goshinzilla

Death is only the beginning. Erza learns that much at the tower of heaven. But the afterlife, it turns out, isn't much better than life, with all its flaws. As she becomes a shinigami, Erza seeks to make a better world- but Aizen has the same idea... (ErzaXMomo)

71. Nature of The Beast

Well, I got another chapter for all of you. This time however, it comes with some rather radical changes to the original Bleach cannon. I don't just mean only what will happen with Grimmjow, but also another scene in this chapter. As such, its more important than ever to receive feedback on this chapter. I cant stress this enough.

However, while I say that, I do wish to thank all of you who HAVE left reviews so far. Seriously, they all mean a lot to us, and I think its about time I gave proper thanks yet again. They let us know what we're doing right, wrong, and in general give us more motivation to continue this story. So Thank you all very much.

Also, I have some words from the writer himself that are important to know for this chapter.

"Hi all. Greatkingrat88 here, just chiming in with a couple of things to keep in mind.

This chapter, we'll be dealing with Ichigo's inner hollow. Now, reading this, there are two things I want you all to remember:

Zangetsu is Zangetsu. NOT Ywach, just Zangetsu, the real and actual zanpakutou. (That was a twist I found idiotic even by Kubo's standards)

Hollow Ichigo is just a hollow, NOT a zanpakutou bitter about not being a zanpakutou.

Just keep that in mind going forward, in case any of you forgot. This was a personal veto of mine, as I detested that entire idea. Things will play out a bit differently, and that's intentional. Enjoy!"

While I personally LOVED the Zangetsu twist, I can understand his point of view and I think what we came up with here will still leave you all satisfied. Take my word for it.

Anyways, enough with that, on with the show!

Thanks once again to Greatkingrat88 (for writing) and jcampbellohten (for being our Beta)

Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo and Shounen jump. Fairy tail is owned by Hiro Mashima and weekly shounen magazine. I own NOTHING. This is all just for fun.

---

Grimmjow sized them up. His pulse had quickened, but although he knew he was completely outmatched if it came to a fight, he wasn't afraid. Odds were just a number, and he'd gotten out of worse scraps. Sure, three captains would be nearly impossible even when he had been at his best, but even now, even maimed and weakened, part of him wanted to charge, to rip and tear, to sink his teeth into their flesh and rend flesh from limb.

But, he had come too far to throw it all away, and he was certainly not about to die stupidly. With a practiced expression of indifference, as if he couldn't care less that three captains with their blades out had surrounded him, he stared into the eyes of the redhead he assumed was their leader, the one he'd given a thrashing not long ago.

"Espada," she said, "state your intent."

"His intent is irrelevant," said a haughty captain, whose very voice made Grimmjow's spine crawl with disgust. He knew a stick up the ass when he saw it, and he could tell this bastard had one to rival Aizen's. "Let us kill the intruder and be done with it."

"On my mark, and only then," said the redhead sharply.

"Agreed," said another, a short woman, and although sounding quite stiff, Grimmjow sensed a killing intent from her far more impressive than either of the others. "No hasty moves."

Grimmjow had simply stood still after the garganta had closed, letting his energy be known. The scenery was green and sunny; he had wound up in the middle of a park. The shinigami, true to form, had come running. Within ten minutes, these three captains had surrounded him, their lower ranking servants standing behind in support. He stood there, his one hand in his pocket, a look of indifferent contempt on his face.

"Took you long enough," he said at last.

"What is your game, espada?" the redhead demanded.

"To wreak havoc, no doubt," said the stick, haughty as ever.

"This is different from any of the other times, though," said the small one. "He simply waited for us to come to him."

She was perceptive, too. Grimmjow made a mental note that she was probably the wiliest of the bunch, and therefore the most dangerous.

Slowly, he reached for his blade, pulling it from his sheath. The captains tensed, and the stick raised his blade.

"Hold!" demanded the redhead.

Grimmjow lazily raised the blade, and then, with a single flick of the hand, he tossed it onto the ground.

"What?" said the redhead, sounding genuinely surprised. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Can't you tell, idiot?" said Grimmjow, raising his hand- and his stump, too, for good measure- up into the air. "I'm surrenderin'."

The words were like bile in his mouth. The shinigami were the antithesis of what a hollow was, dependent on others, weak and complacent, yet still daring to stand in opposition to the raw power of a hollow. They offended him not just by being strong, but by being strong and weak at the same time. Surrendering to them was to surrender a part of himself, to give away a part of what made Grimmjow into Grimmjow. He reminded himself of Aizen, of the idea of paying that smug bastard back the only way he could, and swallowed down the bitter taste of having to yield.

"It is a lie," said the stick, and Grimmjow sensed irritation under the calm surface. "He will lash out at you the moment you attempt to restrain him."

"See," said Grimmjow, "unlike us, you assholes got rules. I surrender. That means according to your rules, you can't touch me."

"Explain yourself," the redhead demanded angrily. "Not long ago, you came close to killing me."

"See this?" Grimmjow said, pointing to his stump, still red and sore. "That's what I got for failing. I ain't even half as strong as I used to be. Even one of you could beat me down easily right now, even if I hate sayin' it. Aizen's a son of a bitch. But then again, you all know that, don't ya?"

Something in the redhead's face changed, and Grimmjow recalled that he'd heard some stories- that once, a shinigami had served Aizen, defected and paid the price…

"So, here I am," he said with a shrug. "Aizen's a bastard. I surrender, and what's more, I come to bargain. You get me on your side, and I'll tell you everything."

"I doubt if you're all that useful," said the short one, sounding skeptical. "You're a brute. You're the septimo, and I doubt you're more than fodder to the likes of Aizen Sousuke."

"That's former septimo," Grimmjow spat. He turned around, gesturing to where his old tattoo had been; it had been scratched out, another humiliation to follow the loss of his arm. "I lost my arm, my rank, my power, my everything, and all I want is to see Aizen lose the same. As for bein' useful… well," he said, turning around again, and pulling the folder out from inside his vest, "I brought you a gift."

Unceremoniously, he tossed the folder onto the ground, where it landed not far from his blade.

The short one gave the redhead a look, and the redhead nodded.

"Secure it, but don't take your eyes off him. You," she said to Grimmjow, "if you move at all, we'll kill you."

"Fine by me," Grimmjow said casually.

The short one rifled through the file, after first carefully checking for any traps. Grimmjow waited impatiently, constantly reminding himself of the end goal.

"Well?" said the redhead.

"I can't be sure of this," muttered the short one. "It's some sort of scientific composition. But… it bears Aizen's personal signature."

"Nicked it off his chief scientist," said Grimmjow gleefully. "Figured I'd need to grease the wheels a bit if I was to get you lot talking to me."

The three captains exchanged glances.

"Thoughts?" said the redhead after a while.

"Unchanged," said the stick. "A hollow is a hollow. They cannot be trusted to do anything but destroy."

"Assuming he isn't lying," said the short one carefully, "this could be an unparalleled opportunity."

The redhead looked Grimmjow in the eye. "You surrender to us, to become our prisoner and live at our mercy?"

"I said the words once already, shinigami," Grimmjow spat. "You got ears, don't you? I won't say it twice."

She nodded. "Get down on your knees and put your hand on your head. Now."

Grimmjow snarled with frustration.

"Look, I told you I'll work with you-"

"Now. Or I won't hesitate to see you killed."

Sensing the eagerness of the stick, who was staring at him intently, Grimmjow knew he was out of options. He couldn't back out of this situation, much less go back to Hueco Mundo. This was a one-way trip, and this was the fate he had chosen for himself. Gritting his teeth, he obeyed, albeit slowly.

"Momo," said the redhead, raising her voice in an order to one of her subordinates, "restrain him. The strongest bakudou you have that'll let him move."

"Yes, captain!" said another short woman, and Grimmjow shot her a glare as she began her chant. Uninterrupted, she quickly formed a large set of golden chains, wrapping around Grimmjow's torso, binding his arms.

"We're taking you back to base. No tricks- any sign of deceit, and I will have Captain Kuchiki here cut off your head."

"It would be my pleasure," said the captain dispassionately.

Grimmjow sighed, as he was pulled to his feet and marched through the town, the shinigami buzzing around him like insects. These bastards… they had better be worth the risk.

---

"I told you everything already! Three times, woman!" snarled Grimmjow. It had been three hours of intense interrogation. He had been taken to an unassuming building of sorts, which had turned out to hide a much more complex set of rooms inside; shinigami magic, undoubtedly. He had been chained down quite firmly, strapped to a chair with the accursed magic of the shinigami. The short, perceptive woman from before, whom he had learned was called Soifon, had begun interrogating him, lining out question after question. She would suddenly go back to old questions, over and over, and it frustrated him to no end. Whenever he said something the least bit inconsistent, she would come down on him like a hawk. Grimmjow had begun to hate her. He wanted to kill, to wreak violence on something, and being stuck to a chair answering questions was the opposite of how he had wanted this to go.

"From the top," Soifon demanded, "and make sure you get everything right this time. Tell us about Aizen."

"For fuck's sake…"

"Tell us, or we'll just kill you. Your life is not worth anything to us."

"Bitch!"

---

Erza stood in the room next door. A quick kido spell had rendered the wall transparent, making the room a makeshift interrogation observation room. To her left stood Byakuya, staring at the captured espada, and to her right stood Yoruichi, brought in as a special consultant, given her past in the stealth force. For three hours, she had watched Soifon do what she did best, interrogating the former espada with ruthless meticulousness.

"Why is she making him repeat himself?" Erza muttered.

"Standard procedure," Yoruichi explained. "It's to make sure we have a consistent account of events. If he's being inconsistent, it means he's not sure of what he knows. It also serves to break down the prisoner's spirit. Makes them easier to work with."

Erza shuddered. The techniques of the stealth force she knew to be ruthless, and she suspected this was only scratching the surface.

"I must protest," said Byakuya. "He obviously knows nothing of value. For all we know, he is sent here as a decoy while Aizen makes a move elsewhere. He could be lying through his teeth. We're being distracted with petty, useless things. He ought to be executed, and we ought to move on."

"He is a prisoner of war," Erza said, a hint of steel in her voice. "The arrancar might think nothing of killing out of convenience, but we do. We should, at the very least. If he becomes a threat, we kill. If not, he remains a prisoner. Alive, if not comfortable."

"Commander-" Byakuya began, but Erza cut him off.

"Go report the facts of the matter to the captain-commander," she said brusquely. "It is well past time he learned what has transpired here."

"…yes, commander," Byakuya said neutrally.

As he exited, Erza gave him a scrutinizing glare. He had been unusually bloodthirsty for a man so well known for his restraint, and the recklessness he had shown last night was… troubling. Given his antipathy toward the arrancar, she wondered if it was wise to have him deliver the news- but then again, she had given a direct order, and the nobleman took such things seriously.

"Yoruichi," she said, turning her eye back to the irritable ex-espada, "what do you make of our prisoner?"

"A clear case of psychopathy," Yoruichi said with a shrug, "but then again, that's typical to almost all hollows. He's quite a narcissist. See how frustrated he is that we aren't just agreeing with him, taking his word for granted and striking a bargain right away? He had enough ego to expect, on some level, that this is how we'd react."

"Makes sense from a hollow perspective," Erza muttered. "Two forces united against a greater power, that's a common enough occurrence in Hueco Mundo. I guess he didn't consider that we're not the same."

She focused on the espada, as he tried to reason yet again.

"Listen," Grimmjow said, in what he probably thought was a convincing, smooth tone, "we're all on the same side here. We both hate Aizen's guts. Now, me, I got everything you need. I'm cooperating. So, stop jerking me around and let me get to the point, woman!"

"You are not in charge here," Soifon said neutrally. "Let's talk more about Aizen's forces. How many?"

"I told you a million times already!" Grimmjow snarled. His temper having flared, he quickly brought himself under control- albeit with great effort, and when he spoke again, the pretence of calm was paper thin.

"Look," he said, "I got everything you need. I already gave you good info, and that's just the start. So, here's what I think: you bastards work your magic, get me back to strength, and I promise you I'll be right with you when the time comes to fight Aizen. I'll rip his weakling bastards to shreds alongside you, and that's after I've given you everything I know. Get me an arm, get me my strength, and I'll be loyal-"

"You're not in a position to make demands," Soifon said coolly, "and if you want to get anything at all, you'll comply with everything I ask of you. Do not make the mistake of thinking you are invaluable to us just because you've turned coats."

"Damn it, woman!" Grimmjow snarled, straining against the chains. "I'm gonna give you Aizen's head on a platter, can't ya see that? Stop bein' so fuckin' difficult!"

Erza sighed, and shook her head behind the wall. "Not very cooperative for somebody claiming to be, is he?"

"He tries," Yoruichi said sardonically, "but actually… he could give you some useful information. I know Kisuke would be delighted to learn how the garganta works, for one."

"Well, he's out for the day," Erza said, wondering where the rogue scientist had gone, "so for now, we handed the folder to Nozomi. Judging by what she had to tell us, he gave us something big- probably the biggest he could give us, and he doesn't even know it. He's not very bright outside of combat."

"Still," said Yoruichi curiously, "this is… interesting."

"Is he being honest?" Erza said. "I'm sorry to ask you to help with this interrogation and all- I know that you never liked the profession- but… I could really use an opinion on this."

"Oh, please," Yoruichi said dismissively. "He's an asshole, and we're not torturing him or anything. I'm happy to help. Now, is he being honest, or is he some kind of clever double agent, that's what you're wondering, right?"

Erza nodded.

"Well…" Yoruichi said, furrowing her brows in thought, "if he's lying, he's one of the most skilled liars I've ever met. How many arrancar do you think would be ready to die for Aizen?"

"Some," Erza said, and thought briefly of Neliel and Halibel.

"And how many do you think would be ready to have a limb severed, their power lost, and sent out to pretend they were a defector, and consistently put on a completely believable act?"

"When you put it like that…"

"It'd be subtlety of a kind I've never seen in a hollow," Yoruichi said, shaking her head, "but then again, you'd know them better than I."

"No, I agree. I can't think of any hollow who could pull that off. So… we think he's telling the truth?"

"Hollows aren't exactly reliable, but I think his hate for Aizen is genuine. But I doubt if he'll have any interest in keeping his word to us. He despises us, I can tell, and even that aside, hollows rarely do anything that doesn't further their own interests."

"What would you have me do for now?"

"Keep him under lock and key and find out what you can," Yoruichi said with a shrug.

"And if I can't get him to work with me? What if I have to…"

"There's no need to sully your hands, Erza," Yoruichi said with a smirk. "Just letting him go would be enough. Aizen is sure to want him dead or worse. He would have to hide far out in the Hueco Mundo wastes for the rest of his life."

"I… see," Erza said. That hadn't even occurred to her. Right now, ass though he was, this man's life- this hollow's life- was in her hands, and anything but keeping him under her thumb as a prisoner would be worse for him.

He had surely done enough to deserve death a thousand times over, but the idea of executing a prisoner, helpless to resist, even an evil one… because it was convenient? No, that was the sort of thing Aizen would do. She sighed. This was a kind of problem she had never even expected.

She looked at the arrancar. She hadn't gotten a very good look at him the last time, on account of his constant attempts to end her life, but here and now, in the light of the interrogation room, he was something else altogether. Bound, helpless, infuriated and with nowhere to go, Erza couldn't help but think he looked pitiful. Did he even deserve that much from her?

---

It was with a considerable measure of impatience that Uryu showed up to the Wandenritter's usual meeting spot that day. He was tense, and although Meninas- who had been accompanying him most of the time when he wasn't in school, at a smaller or greater distance- was a pleasant enough person, charisma could not undo the concerns running through the young quincy's mind.

"Young Uryu," said Haschwalth as Uryu approached the grand master, "you seem… strained today."
He was seated on a large piece of concrete, looking flawlessly at home despite the stark contrast of the ruins compared to his white, pristine suit.

"I beg your pardon, Haschwalth," said Uryu politely, "but just a night ago, there was yet another incursion. Nobody was hurt, but it's clear Aizen Sousuke is not going to relent. The war looms, and we have no idea how soon it may come. This is my city, sir knight, my home. I cannot defend it as I am now."

"So very formal," said Jugram with the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

"More like he's kissing ass 'cause he wants something," said Bambietta with a snort. "Then again, that's basically every time anyone's being polite."

"Come, now," Jugram said, "let him speak. What is on your mind, Uryu?"

"I cannot defend this city as I am," Uryu repeated himself, "and while these history lessons have been fascinating, I need more than that. I need strength. Haschwalth, I beseech you; teach me the strength of the quincies."

Haschwalth, for a few moments, said nothing, only giving Uryu a scrutinizing look.

"You know," said Meninas gently, "this city is well defended. You're still young, and you've got much growing left to do. It's alright not to help in a situation like that."

"Defended by shinigami," Uryu said haughtily, "an affront in itself."

"Is that all you think of defense of your home, young Uryu?" said Jugram. "As something to do to protect your pride, your ego?"

"…No, sir," Uryu said, sounding a little embarrassed, realizing how it had sounded. "I'll not deny it offends me, but the reason I seek to defend it is… I cannot stand idly by and do nothing. Not when I know I can do something. When the war comes, people will die. Humans may be caught in the crossfire. If my intervention can save lives, then that's reason enough. The thought of knowing this comes to my city, my home… if I one day look back at this and say, 'I did nothing,' then I will forever feel ashamed."

Jugram sat quiet for some time, his face quite inscrutable.

"If we offer you this strength, Uryu, then you must pledge to use it honourably. We do not ask you to join our ranks, but we will not give such power without an assurance that it will be used responsibly. The quincy method is your birthright, but it must never be used selfishly or cruelly."

"I swear it," Uryu said firmly.

"Good enough," said Jugram, his tone surprisingly upbeat.

"Er… just like that?" Uryu said, blinking confusedly.

"He's really sure he's a good judge of character," Bambietta said, rolling her eyes, "so yeah, you're good in his eyes. 'Course, if he was such a good judge of character, he wouldn't have let that charlatan pick his pocket the other day-"

"Really, Bambietta," said Jugram, mildly irritated, "that could happen to anyone. He really sounded quite convincing. At any rate, it is entirely irrelevant to my ability to judge quincy potentials-"

"Sounds like something somebody who stupidly lost his wallet would say," Bambietta said with a grin.

"Be nice," Meninas cut in. "It's not very noble to gloat at the misfortune of others, Bambi."

"No, but it's fun," Bambi said with a chuckle.

"Do you see the things I must put up with?" Jugram said exasperatedly, although there was a smile on his face as he gave a despondent shrug. "Pray that you are never burdened with leadership, for you may be saddled with obnoxious, classless and distasteful subordinates."

"Hey, I take offense to that!" Bambietta said loudly. "I may be completely obnoxious and have about as much class as a Marxist utopia, but I have excellent taste!"

"Sounds like something somebody who insists their grand master buy them a bright pink miniskirt would say," Jugram said sardonically.

"It was cute!"

"It barely covered anything," Meninas said.

"See, Uryu?" Bambietta said, letting out a shrug and a sigh of such complete exasperation that nobody could possibly take it seriously. "These are the complete and total squares who took an interest in you. Run while you can!"

"I'm over eight hundred and even I know nobody has used the word 'square' unironically since the nineteen-seventies," Jugram commented.

"Er…" Uryu mumbled, in between embarrassed and fascinated at Bambietta's complete lack of respect, "um, power? And such?"

"Right," Haschwalth said, quickly wiping the smile off his face. "I do apologize. I swear we are usually more professional than this."

Bambietta snorted, and only Meninas clamping a hand over her mouth stopped her from letting out what would undoubtedly have been a rude remark.

"As you are already familiar with Meninas," said Jugram, his tone becoming more formal, "I think it would be best if you begin to practice with her. Set time aside each day, and she will grow your strength like water and sun grows a budding plant."

"I see," Uryu said, unable to hide a small hint of disappointment in his voice.

"I would do it myself," Jugram added, "but Meninas is by far a better teacher. She has raised many a knight to chevalier, and chevalier to paladin. Learn first from somebody closer to your level-"

"Kinda like saying a rhino is closer to an ant than an elephant," Bambietta snorted, having freed herself from Meninas' grasp.

"Closer to your level, and who knows? In the future, you may well learn from me directly."

"Come on, Uryu," said Meninas gently. "Why don't we start right away?"

"Right away? Er, I mean, yes. Right away. No better time to start," Uryu said, feeling excitement well up into his chest.

"Right this way," said Meninas. "I know a secluded spot in the park that will do just fine."

As she dashed away, Uryu followed, feeling a strange elation. He was about to reclaim what his father had always kept away from him, the heritage of power that belonged to the quincies. It was a thrilling thought.

---

Szayel slowly regained consciousness, and the first thing he became aware of was pain. A murderous headache, to be specific, each heartbeat highlighting a new pulse of agony. Grunting, barely aware of himself, Szayel clumsily moved an arm about, trying to prop himself up. After flailing and failing to get himself upright, he eventually managed to grab the edge of a table, pulling himself up into a sitting position. The world around him was blurry, spinning, and he sat still, frantically holding on to the table edge.

In his mind, a singular image, although not very concise or specific, began to form. That sneering, arrogant cripple. Grimmjow. That bastard. Oh, he would pay for this. Szayel should have known better than to toy with a rabid dog, too mad and stupid to understand what utter insanity it was to attack Aizen's favoured servant. But, he knew more than a few ways of making the mad dog suffer, of making him wish he were dead. Szayel imagined the son of a bitch strapped down to a table, helplessly watching Szayel approach with a scalpel in hand… yes, that would do. As a start. Focusing on his hate, on the gleeful thought of revenge, Szayel slowly pulled himself to his feet, taking a few deep breaths as he kept himself stable with both hands. Slowly, his vision stabilized.

There was blood on the floor where he had lain, dry, thick and fragmented, and Szayel realized he had to have been knocked out for at least six hours, maybe more. His servants were under strict orders not to disturb him in his quarters unless summoned, and as such he had been left there alone. Grimacing, he brought up a hand to touch the back of his head. He grit his teeth as his fingers explored the blood at the back of his skull, ignoring the pain it brought.

Broken skin, but thankfully, his skull appeared intact. Judging by the intense headache, though, he probably had a mild concussion. That bastard! What did he even think would happen? Why had he been sloppy enough to leave Szayel alive to begin with? A beast like Grimmjow enjoyed killing, delighted in it, so why…

As his vision stabilized more, Szayel's eyes wandered across the room. Yes, why…

Then, he saw it. The vault. Wide open. Suddenly, a panic began to creep up into Szayel's chest, genuine fear replacing his petty hatred. How? How had he-

Yes, of course- he'd asked how to open it. After knocking Szayel out, he'd used his fingerprints to open it and then thrown him aside.

With a clarity afforded by fear for his own existence, Szayel pounced on the vault, quickly tearing through its contents. It was half empty, folders of scientific plans spread across the near vicinity. Szayel went after them one by one, ignoring a wave of nausea as he bent down to collect paper after paper strewn across the floor. As he collected the data, feverishly putting together what had been taken, he slowly began to regain a bit of calm. Nothing appeared to be missing. Had the stupid bastard rifled through all of this and failed to see its importance? With eager meticulousness, Szayel gathered everything up, paper by paper, folder by folder, running an inventory.

Everything was where it should be.

Except, Szayel realized as he put together the last file, horror returning to plague him, for one thing.

Quickly he weighed his options. What was he to do? He could run away, of course, but that would mean giving up everything here in Hueco Mundo for an uncertain, quite possibly fatal future. He could report to Aizen and explain what had happened. Aizen Sousuke, benevolent front aside, had shown little tolerance for failure. But then again, this wasn't Szayel's fault. But no, he couldn't expect a man that cold to reason with such weakness.

So, how could he reason?

Well, Aizen was, all things considered, quite practical. Szayel was, unlike most of his lord's underlings, not easily replaceable. He would need help. And even if he ran… well, the thought of Ulquiorra or Halibel barreling down on him was terrifying, and if he ran, then he'd really put himself in as bad a position as he possibly could. No, better to report.

He could try to hide it, of course… but no, this project was quite familiar to Aizen, and he would find out. Trembling inside, struggling with nausea, Szayel hastily made his way toward Aizen's throne room.

---

Aizen was holding court, having just created yet another arrancar, when the pink-haired scientist barreled into the throne room. Aizen was in a good mood, and as such paid him no mind. He was the center of attention, dozens of arrancar watching their new brother remade, powerful and splendid.

"My lord!" Szayel demanded urgently.

"Szayel?" said Aizen, mildly annoyed at the scientist's tone. To be disturbed at a time like this was a nuisance, and most of anyone else wouldn't have dared.

"Lord, there is something I must discuss with you. It's… urgent."

"Surely it can wait, Szayel," said Aizen dismissively. "I was just about to introduce to your brothers and sisters their new sibling."

"It can't," Szayel said bluntly. "Lord, I must speak with you, now."

Few people would have dared to take such an audacious tone to their lord and master, and several arrancar glared at Szayel. However, there was something in his voice that gave Aizen pause.

"…Very well. If you are this keen, then surely you must have good reason."

"You need to send them all out, lord," said Szayel, gesturing to the arrancar gathered. "All of them, now. This is for your ears only. It's sensitive."

Aizen furrowed his brows slightly.
"…Very well. Leave us," he said, giving the surrounding arrancar a wave, "and take your new brother with you."

Hastily the arrancar obeyed, and as they scrambled away, Aizen retrieved the hougyoku from the air, where it had floated during the conversion process. Szayel waited until they were fully alone, looking more than twice at the exiting group of arrancar.

"Very well, then," said Aizen stiffly. "What is the matter?"
He looked more closely at Szayel. The scientist was unusually disorderly in his appearance; his hair was hanging in stripes, parts of his hollow mask had been chipped, and small droplets of blood stained both his hair and clothes.

"Szayel, you are a mess," Aizen said curiously. "What happened?"

"Lord, I…" Szayel said, pausing. "It was Grimmjow, lord."

"He attacked you? Szayel, I hope you did not interrupt me so dramatically simply to file a complaint," said Aizen strictly.

"That's not it," Szayel said, shaking his head, a nauseated look passing his face as he did so. "Grimmjow broke into my personal laboratory, attacked me, knocked me out and…" Szayel said, hoping the half-truth would make him look like less of a failure.

"Speak up," Aizen said firmly.

"Lord… the vault. He broke into the vault."

Suddenly, Aizen tensed a little. Now it all made more sense.

"The vault? But how could a simpleton like he have known?"

"I am not sure, lord," Szayel said honestly. "It must have been dumb luck or random chance."

"What did he take?" Aizen demanded.

Szayel paused, a look of dread passing his face, and Aizen felt a pang of… concern.

"I said, what did he take?"

"Our… our plans, lord. For… for the project you contributed to. Karakura…"

Aizen was not the kind of person to express his emotions openly. He had always been of the opinion that emotional outbursts were a sign of lacking self-control. One certainly could not control how one felt, but one could control how one acted, and that was everything.

That was why Aizen would not, upon a startling and infuriating revelation, do something as base and stupid as gaping, or screaming out loud. That was the mark of a weak mind. But in his mind, Aizen roared.

"I… see," he said, his voice quite controlled, but even Szayel could hear his lord's tone shift, tenser and more controlled, his teeth gritting. "All of it?"

"All of it, lord," Szayel said, sounding miserable. "The whole file is missing; I checked it all."

"Where has he gone?"

"I know not, lord. I was… unconscious."

Aizen knew the answer already. To the shinigami. Where else would the disgraced cripple have gone after daring to defy him? It was revenge, petty revenge… and worst of all, he had unwittingly picked something important. In his mind's eye, Aizen saw himself sever Szayel's head for his failure, immolating his body with a perfectly executed kidou spell.

But, that was not what a self-controlled leader would do.

"Szayel," he said, his voice strained, "go back to the lab and begin reconstructing the plans at once."

"But-but, lord," Szayel stuttered, "from memory? You authored more than half of this yourself-"

"Do it!" Aizen snapped, realizing too late that he had raised his voice. "That is to say… only you can help right now, Szayel. I am… depending on you. I know you will not let me down."

"I- I will not, lord!"

"I will contribute in time," Aizen said, his knuckles tightening around the scabbard of his blade, "but I… must confer with my council for the time being. Go, and do what you can."

"Yes- yes, lord! Right away, lord!" Szayel all but squeaked, hurrying out of the throne room.

Aizen took a deep breath. He wasn't angry. He didn't get angry. He was in control, as he always was. It was just that some people were… obnoxious. Grimmjow had just earned himself a very cruel, very unusual death.

---

Ichigo's first indication that something was out of the ordinary was the fact that when he stopped by the Visored's hideout after school, Urahara Kisuke was there ahead of him, engaged in discussion with all eight of them.

"I told ya, we're good," Hirako said firmly. "This ain't something you'd understand, and you don't need to. I know you're a scientist, but go stick your nose into something else this time around. Something that don't care about privacy."

"Shinji, please," Urahara said cordially, "you know I know this issue as well as anyone could. I'm not here out of self-interest. Well, not entirely. I want to make sure the kid makes it."

"Uh, guys?" said Ichigo, marching up toward the group, hastening his step. "What's going on?"

"Huh, you're here already?" said Shinji, turning to look at him. "Look…"

"Is something wrong?" Ichigo demanded.

"Everything's fine," Shinji insisted.

"So, what are you all talking about?"

"Well, tell him," Lisa said.

"You're about to die, that's what," Hiyori said gleefully.

"You pipe down!" Shinji said. He sighed. "You know how you've been practicing? Improving?"

"Yes," Ichigo said with a nod, feeling a knot of worry beginning to form in his gut.

"I'll lay it out frank," said Shinji, "and don't start quaking in your boots. Everything's going the way it should. When you came to us, you were in a bad way. That hollow was well on its way to consuming you from the inside. Give it another month or two, and you would have been gone."

"But I'm handling it. Right?"

"Sorta," Shinji said with a shrug. "You're definitely better off now than you were before. See, when you first got here it was just a matter of time. Thing is, it still is. We pushed it back a good chunk now, put the fear into the beast in your head and got you controlling your body properly. But we got ourselves a kind of… good news, bad news situation."

"Then, tell me," Ichigo said. His voice was even, firm, but on the inside he felt the knot growing.

"Bad news: the hollow ain't gone and it hasn't stopped eating at you. Good news: we're about to fix that."

"But I thought… I thought I was already training to do that?"

"It was enough to set up a basic amount of control," Shinji explained, "but you haven't done as we have. Each one of us had to face our hollow, beat it into submission by force of will. You've shielded yourself from it, but that's not enough. If it stays this way, it'll eventually eat you all the same. Frankly, all the practice you did so far was just to get you to a strong enough place to do this. You've trained and you've done well, and you can't wait much longer. Today, you learn to control it."

Or else you die. The truth was there, unspoken but plain as day.

"I… see," Ichigo said, feeling as if he was about to drop off a cliff. "I guess… I guess we're doing this, then."

"Mister Kurosaki," Urahara cut in politely, "with your permission, I'd like to fill them in on your background. In full."

"Do it," Ichigo said quickly.

Urahara nodded.
"He is like you, but also not," he said solemnly, turning to the visored. "You were souls, shinigami, turned against your will. Mister Kurosaki here likewise had no choice, but unlike you, there was never a point when he wasn't part-hollow. His conception is… unique. His father is a former captain and his mother a quincy, you see."

"Explains why he's crazy strong," Kensei muttered.

"Only in part. Much like you, his condition is to blame on Aizen. Only in this case, a hollow, parasitically inhabiting his father's body, merged with him in the womb. It accelerated his growth, lying dormant until recently. It is completely and utterly a part of him. A man like Aizen would view it as the next step in scientific progress."

"I'm sure he would, the bastard," Shinji said, his tone severe.

"The point is that he's not the same as you, not quite," Urahara said, "and as it happens, what worked for you may work differently for him. For his own good, I'd like to be present when this starts. I've prepared. Shinji, I'm asking you."

Shinji gave Urahara a long, inscrutable look, before turning to Ichigo.

"What do you say, kid? I'll leave it up to you."

"…Let him stay," Ichigo said after a pause. "He looked out for me before. He probably gets something out of it, but if it helps me stay me, then that's fair enough."

Urahara nodded, looking pleased.

"How do we do this, anyway?" Ichigo said.

"Remember how we did the first time?" said Shinji. "Like that, but deeper, and this time there are no safety nets. You'll bring the hollow out, and we'll take turns keeping it busy. You face it and you beat it. Sounds simple, but it ain't. You're probably gonna lose track of time, but keep in mind that if it takes too long, you lose. The moment it gets out, it'll start taking control of your body, transforming your reiatsu into its own."

Ichigo swallowed nervously, his mouth feeling dry. "Any tips?" he said.

"Remember who you are," Shinji said simply. "That's it, really. Remember who you are and who's in charge, and don't let him win."

"…Right," said Ichigo. "You guys, uh… go get ready. I'll be right with you."

"Sure," Shinji said with a nod. "Take a moment if you need it. I get it."

The visored walked off a bit toward the center of the spacious hideout. Urahara was about to follow, when Ichigo quietly called out to him.

"Hey, sandal-hat!"

"Mister Kurosaki?"

"Listen," Ichigo said, taking a few steps closer, "I need you to do something for me."

"Name it."

"In case I don't make it-"

"You will. I have confidence in you, Mister Kurosaki."

"In case I don't make it, tell Mom and Dad I love them, okay?" He was breathing short, quick breaths, the reality of what was about to happen beginning to sink in. "And all the other ones too, you understand?"

"Mister Kurosaki-"

"And promise me," Ichigo said intensely, "if I don't make it, you make sure that creature dies. Don't let it come after my family. Swear it!"

"…I promise," Urahara said gravely.

"Good," Ichigo said, nodding. "Now, I don't know what's about to happen, and I'm all out of good last words, so… damn it, let's just get this done."

"Either way it will be over soon," said Urahara. Somehow, Ichigo did not feel reassured.

Before the day was over, he would either be dead or alive. And he hadn't even told his mother. Inwardly, he cursed. Well, there was nothing to do about it now. If he made it… if he made it, he'd come clean, he swore to himself. Nervously, he stepped toward the circle the visored had formed.

---

Having entered his shinigami form, Ichigo sat down on the ground cross-legged, placing Zangetsu in front of him. He felt the zanpakutou's unease; the spirit worried for him, even if he would not vocalize it. Ichigo took a deep breath, and looked around. The visored had him surrounded in a wide circle. Right in front of him stood Shinji, and behind him stood Kensei, and Ichigo guessed there had to be some forty meters between the two fighters. He balled his fists, placing them on his knees, and closed his eyes. Offering a last thought of regret to his mother, he reached inside of him, drawing out the hollow. The beast, stymied and subdued for weeks now, was all too eager to regain control, and within seconds Ichigo felt its nauseating energies seep through his body. Slowly, he lost consciousness, sinking inside his own mind.

---

Urahara watched with fascination. Within a minute, the hollow had taken shape across Ichigo, more than halfway transformed. The mask had overtaken the boy's face entirely, and all what could be seen of his skin was chalk white. Sensing carefully, Urahara tried to assess it. As strong of a transformation as it was, it didn't control more than half of the content of the host body's energies, and Ichigo's presence was still strong.

His mind, however, seemed absent. Letting out a malevolent hiss, the half-hollow, half-shinigami beast stood up, grabbing hold of Zangetsu, its energies rising, rising, rivaling that of a captain with ease.

"Hey, Urahara?" said Shinji, slowly pulling his blade out.

"Yes?"

"If you're going to stick around, make yourself useful. I'm going to keep that thing busy until it gets tiring, and then Kensei will relieve me. Then Rose, then Love, and so on. You're here, so you're in. Got it?"

"Understood," Urahara said.

As much as Shinji denied being a leader, as much as he had insisted they made decisions as a group, there was no doubting the authority in his voice. Not one of his companions protested, each one fully focused on the task ahead of them.

"Right, then, you ugly bastard," said Shinji, taking a few bold steps forward, "let's see what you go, shall we?"

The hollow quickly responded to the provocation, letting out a piercing shriek and lifting Zangetsu, charging the visored. Shinji calmly made a claw over his face and pulled down, his own mask immediately materializing. Just in time, he raised his blade to parry an overhead strike, powerful but lacking anything like subtlety. Mesmerized, Urahara stared, drinking in the sensation of it. Ichigo was one of a kind, and Urahara was privileged to witness this.

He just hoped it wouldn't end with him having to explain to Ichigo's mother why he'd killed her son.

---

For a brief moment, the world had been pure white. Then, it had manifested: Zangetsu's inner world, tall buildings and bright blue skies. But, it was in disarray, deeply wrong. The sky was to his left, and he stood sideways on the wall of a skyscraper. The blue sky was tumultuous; although bright blue, its clouds moved rapidly, constantly shifting and changing. Ichigo felt the weight of Zangetsu in his hand, and looked down across his body. He appeared normal, wearing his shihakushou, the weight of a hollow at the back of his head gone for the first time in over a month.

"Why, hello."

The voice reverberated, croaking maliciously across the entire world he stood in, echoing through Ichigo's head. Where a second ago there had been nothing, there now stood another Ichigo, its entire figure chalk white; the uniform, the skin, the hair. The only exception was its eyes, the whites black and the irises bright yellow. It had an odd version of Zangetsu slung lazily across its back. The sword was identical in shape to Ichigo's, but whereas Ichigo's was black metal at the back with a steel-grey cutting edge, this one was white at the back with a black edge.

"You," Ichigo said, his eyes narrowing.

"Me," said the figure, "but who me is, well… I'll figure that out after I eat your family."

Ichigo felt his choler rise, and the grip on his blade tightened, but he stopped himself. To rise to a simple provocation would be to play right into its hands. It was no simple thing; Ichigo had dreaded the prospect day in and day out for some time now, and he had meant it when he had told Urahara he'd rather die. But control himself, he did.

"Careful, careful," said the white figure with a grin. "Wouldn't do to lose your temper, would it?"

Somehow, Ichigo got the notion it could read his thoughts.

"Of course I can, dumbass," said the figure with a snort. "I'm in your head, idiot. I know what you think. Very soon, I'll be doing all the thinking for you."

"You're my hollow."

"I am my own hollow," sneered the white figure, "and you are soon to be no more."

"I've come here to cage you," Ichigo said determinedly, swallowing down his doubts and fears with some effort. "If there's one thing we agree on, I think it's that we can't both share this body anymore. One of us needs to be on top."

"Good, good!" croaked the hollow, mockingly clapping his hands. "That's what it's all about, yes- who's the king and who is the horse. Who is master, and who is servant. Your time has come, Ichigo, and soon I'll be king!"

"Right," said Ichigo, grasping his sword firmly. "Come on, then."

He took a few steps forward and then broke into a run. He held his blade up at the ready, charging in with an overhead cut. The hollow blocked, pushing back against Ichigo's charge with seemingly no effort.

"Give it up, kid," he said mockingly.

Ichigo didn't answer, headbutting the hollow. It reeled back, skipping back a good ten yards. The rules seemed different here; the hollow had slid back with ease, and Ichigo barely felt any pain in his forehead. Determined, Ichigo charged again, launching into a series of cuts and slashes, but the hollow caught and parried each one with ease.

"I've seen everything, moron!" he cackled. "I've seen every bit of training you got, every fight! I know you inside-out!"

Determined, Ichigo continued, refusing to listen, but the hollow hadn't lied. It knew his every move, and Ichigo, for all his efforts, couldn't seem to land a single hit.

"I told you," said the hollow with a chortle, "I know you, Ichigo! I know your weakness and I know your style! You thought it was wise to come here? You're just getting desperate, aren't you?"

"Talk is cheap," Ichigo said stubbornly, lashing out with a wide sideways slash. The hollow smoothly jumped over it.

"I told you, I know," it said smugly. "I even know things you don't."

Then, to Ichigo's surprise, Zangetzu suddenly changed shape in the hollow's hands. Gone was the enormous, knife-like greatsword, and in its place were two white blades, slowly twirled around in the hollow's grasp. The left was thick and sturdy and quite short, whereas the right one was sleek, longer, lithe, and hollowed out. Neither was as long or as large as the form Ichigo knew.

"What- what is this?" Ichigo said, taken aback.

"You think you get to fuck over your zanpakutou and force him to come out just a couple months after learning its name?" cackled the hollow. "You get what you work for, kid. You put in three days of work after forcing him out, and what you get ain't half of what it can do. But me… I knows it inside and out."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. What the hollow said made enough sense, but at the same time, he could not afford to trust anything it had to say.

"This changes nothing," he said stubbornly. "I'll still beat you down all the same."

Not waiting for it to respond, he charged, swinging his blade in wide, quick arcs. Nimbly, the hollow evaded each one, occasionally parrying or diverting Ichigo's blade. Then, suddenly, through an opening Ichigo hadn't even seen, it thrust the longer blade forward while blocking Ichigo's sword with the shorter blade. The longsword slid halfway into Ichigo's gut with little resistance, and the hollow's grin widened.

"Give up, Ichigo," it said mockingly. "I told you, I know you. I'm a better you than you could ever be."

Ichigo coughed and staggered back, flinching as the sword was pulled out of his gut. Blood seeped down his chest- yes, blood, but it didn't seem to hurt as much as he had expected, or bleed as much as it should have. He stared intently at the hollow, determined to end it, to break its back. He let his energy rise, channeling power into his zanpakutou. He raised the blade, and loudly he cried, "Getsuga Tenshou!"

But the hollow had cried the exact same, word for word, syllable for syllable, in exact synchronization with Ichigo, and as the wide arc of the crescent moon flew from Ichigo's blade, so did two smaller ones surge out from the hollow's two blades, the three projectiles slamming into each other mid-air, exploding with a burst of raw power that sent Ichigo stumbling back. As he regained his balance, he saw the hollow smugly resting the shorter blade over its shoulder, the longer one pointed right at Ichigo.

"I told ya," it said, "I know what you know, only better."

"I've had about enough of you," Ichigo snarled, and stood upright, his legs wide apart as he raised up Zangetsu. Drawing on the familiar power from within, he let his energy surge, his power crackling around him.

"Ban kai," he exclaimed loudly, "Tensa Zangetsu!"

Heeding his call, the blade transformed, once again taking the compact shape of the sleek, long, black blade with a manji guard, the black coat replacing his normal jacket. Feeling power pulsing through his body, he charged, the world seeming to move in slow motion as he did. He sped around the hollow, aiming to strike it from behind. It seemed as still as a statue, and Ichigo raised his blade to strike-

But then the hollow spun around at the last second, before Ichigo could even see it, blocking his strike, while lashing out with a cut aimed at Ichigo's gut. He skipped back, and the hollow looked at him with playful confidence.

"Bankai, huh? I told you, I know all your tricks."

"Then, you should know that's not half of what I can do!"

It was true. Ichigo widened his stride, striking a lightning-fast circle around the hollow, going more and more quickly. He pounced, and although the hollow was able to block his strike, the force of Ichigo's attack sent it reeling, his blades knocked aside. Pushing his advantage, Ichigo struck again and again, dashing back and forth like a mirage, before finally ramming his blade into the monster's gut. He grit his teeth with anger as he raised the monster up, skewered on Tensa Zangetsu.

The hollow stared into his eyes, his face still glowing with malicious cheer. His arms hung limp from his sides, only barely holding on to the blades.

"This is my body," Ichigo snarled, staring the beast in the face. "This is my home and my sword, monster, and you're just a freeloading parasite stuck here! I claim what's mine, you hear that?"

The hollow let out a long, slow laugh, still hanging limp.

"It's real cute how you think it's that easy. It really is," it said after a while, wheezing the words out, seeming unaffected by the blade in its gut. "You think it's enough just to stab me once and say something tough like you mean it?"

Ichigo threw it to the ground, wrenching the blade free, and took a step forward, aiming to pin it down. But the hollow, limp a moment ago, quickly recovered, got to its feet and raised its blades.

"I know, I know, I know!" it ranted madly. "How many times I gotta tell ya, I know?"

It raised its blades, and Ichigo stopped his advance as he felt its energies rise, filled with familiar power. Ichigo took a deep breath. It couldn't be…

"Ban kai," the hollow shrieked, and the words were like an insult, like a defiling of the meaning behind them, "Tensa Zangetsu!"

There it stood, holding the same bankai. No- almost the same, but not entirely. A thin, white chain wrapped around the hollow's wrist, hanging loosely. It extended all the way up to the hollow's shoulder. The blade, Ichigo noticed, was a bit longer than his, too, and had a silvery edge that looked quite sharp. Ichigo stared, at first with surprise, then with anger and disgust.

"That is not yours!" he exclaimed, anger welling up. The connection between zanpakutou and wielder, between Ichigo and Zangetsu: that was a sacrosanct thing, a special bond nobody else had any right to, that nobody else could understand. This was an insult to everything Ichigo held dear.

"Ain't it?" said the hollow casually. "Sure looks like it to me. Why don't ya take it from me?"

Ichigo scowled, readied his blade, and charged. The hollow laughed maniacally, as the two of them commenced their duel at the speed of lightning, their movements a blur. Any observer to this mad struggle would have struggled to see anything at all, such was their movement.

Yet for all of Ichigo's focus, for his passion, for his effort, for having his back against the wall, it was not enough. It was the same as before. The hollow knew his every move, parried every strike, and worse yet, it seemed to know just where to pierce Ichigo's defense, and one by one, Ichigo was struck with one cut after another, just at the edges, at his shoulders, his sides, his thighs. He didn't know for how long it went on; it could have been a minute or it could have been a lifetime. Time felt meaningless here. But eventually, after taking one too many cuts, Ichigo fell back, breathing heavily. It was more out of habit, he realized, than out of need. He wasn't physically tired; this realm was not the same indeed. His will seemed to falter, though. He was buckling at the knees, frustration building up. It was like running his head into a wall, over and over, like nothing worked.

"It doesn't," said the hollow, undoubtedly reading his mind again. "Just give up, weakling."

"Not while I can stand," Ichigo said stubbornly, although with less conviction than before.

"You know what's happening?" the hollow said gleefully. "Right now, I'm almost there. Right now, I'm eating every piece of your reiatsu. In a few minutes, I'll be complete. In just a little while, you'll be gone, and I'll be free. You're about to be the horse, Ichigo, and I'm going to be king forever."

The confidence in its voice was compelling, speaking its peace with absolute certainty. It had to be true, didn't it? What other way was there?

"Ichigo."

The voice reverberated across the world, not with malice but with concern, with familiar reassurance. Ichigo turned around, and saw the familiar shape of old man Zangetsu, as unkempt as ever, staring down on him like a stern father onto his child.

"Old man…" Ichigo murmured, "I…"

"This has gone on long enough," said the spirit. "Ichigo, why have you not beaten him?"

"I- I can't! I don't know- he knows everything I'm about to do before I even do it!"

"Long I thought of this as simply another trial," muttered Zangetsu, scowling at the hollow, "yet it seems unfair, even by my standards. This… outsider meddles with what ought to be a trial given by me to you. Know this, Ichigo: this monster has you trapped in his web of lies. You have not lost, not until you believe him."

"I am about to lose everything," Ichigo said, a tint of desperation in his voice, "and nothing is working!"

"Says he," Zangetsu said dismissively, and something about his voice eased Ichigo's mind; the calm confidence of the spirit's speech reassured him. It was not impressed by this monster, so why should he?

"Nothing works, you say?"

"No…"

"Have you tried everything, Ichigo? Or have you simply stuck to the same bag of tricks over and over, the ones your aunt has taught you? These skills still fresh in your mind?"

"I…"

"Think harder, Ichigo!" demanded Zangetsu. "Think beyond what you've learned. You cannot go through life using the same few tricks over and over. You must broaden your skills and widen your gaze, or you will never reach your full potential. This monster knows how you fight, but you forget, Ichigo- he has not watched you long. He has seen you since you became a shinigami, but do you forget? Do you forget that you were strong even before that? That you fought and fought hard long before you knew the full scope of your heritage?"

"I…" Ichigo said, realizing the truth of the zanpakutou's words. He had been a hell of a fighter even before, if only by the standards of a human. If the hollow didn't know… yes, he knew things that it did not.

"Thank you, old man," he said, feeling confidence growing in his chest. "I forgot, didn't I? Good thing I'm not alone in this, huh?"

"Go, Ichigo," said the spirit firmly. "Crush this beast. He has no chance against the force of your will!"

Ichigo took a step forward.

"Bull-shit," the hollow spat. "You got shit, Ichigo, and you know it."

Ichigo didn't reply, taking another step toward the beast, then another.

"You don't know anything I don't. This ends the same way, Ichigo!"

"I can see it now," Ichigo said, continuing his advance. "You're afraid of me. If you weren't, you wouldn't be standing there talking to me. You'd be right here trying to rip my throat out."

"Go fuck yourself!" the hollow shrieked, and charged, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Ichigo caught its strike just barely, bracing against the force of the impact. He pushed back, their faces mere inches apart.

"You were really just all talk, weren't you?" the hollow sneered. "You got a few words in, and now you think you're more than nothing. I'm master here-"

And then Ichigo's knee connected with the hollow's gut, and as it reeled back, Ichigo slammed a punch into its throat. The beast coughed, staggering back, and Ichigo launched himself up, slamming a kick into its face. A second later, he came down on it with his blade held firmly in both hands, aiming to run it through and pin it to the ground. The hollow blocked, just barely, knocked off its feet. A second later it had blurred away, reappearing behind Ichigo, going for a thrust of its own. Ichigo was ready, though, deflecting the blow with ease before running a fist into the hollow's solar plexus.

"Screw good form, I guess," Ichigo said firmly.

The hollow grit its teeth, hatred glowing from its eyes. It charged energy into its blade, its power spiking high before peaking, and Ichigo recognized what it was; a Getsuga, as powerful as they came. He watched, charging his own power to match it.

But then suddenly, the hollow simply wasn't there. Ichigo sensed it behind him at the last second and spun around, discharging his own blast immediately. His reflexes saved him from being cut in half, but the force of the blast sent him flying. Finally aching, Ichigo struggled to get to his feet.

"You thought a few quick punches and kicks would do it?" said the hollow, the glee in its voice replaced entirely with malice. "Kid, I know this blade in ways you don't."

There was a brief flash of darkness, and suddenly the hollow was behind him. Ichigo dodged under a wide slash, and then the hollow was gone again.

"See, this," said the hollow, reappearing further back, "is just a taste," and again it disappeared, into darkness and then out of it, "of what you could do," and suddenly it was upon Ichigo, blade raised, Ichigo only barely managing to parry a strike aimed at his shoulder, "if you knew how to use your damn sword!"

"What… is that?" Ichigo grunted, pushing back.

"Shadowspace," the hollow sneered. "I can be anywhere I want, anytime I want, faster than any shunpo can take me. This is what mastery looks like, Ichigo!"

"Got it," Ichigo said, and headbutted the hollow, who reeled back before disappearing into blackness again. "Thanks for explaining. Huge help."

He charged at it again, just where it had appeared, intent on closing the distance, but the hollow was ready. As Ichigo came in close, the chain around the hollow's arm came loose, wrapping around Ichigo's legs like a snake, pulling him off his feet.

"Getsuga Tenshou!" cried the hollow. Ichigo only barely managed to roll out of the way, sent tumbling by the shockwave, the blast missing him by mere inches.

"I toldja," the hollow cheered, "you got nothing on me!"

"Then, why are you running away?" Ichigo exclaimed, and jumped to his feet. The fight was on, and for all its little tricks, Ichigo's mind was hardening into a thing of steel, filled with the single-minded determination to crush his foe, to bind it and make it submit.

---

A weary Rose stepped back, the last of the four strongest visored to have pulled his weight. Already, Lisa and Mashiro were jumping in, neither of them making any illusions of fighting the monster before them alone, not with the intent of keeping it alive. Hachigen was already bolstering them, powerful enchantments shielding them from blows that might have torn them apart.

"Hell," said Kensei, still breathing heavily, "what is that thing?"

"The first of its kind," said Urahara, fascination in his voice, "a hybrid of unparalleled power. The next step in hollow evolution, even."

"Yeah, well," Shinji said, watching intently, "while you're getting hard fawning over it, it's only getting stronger, and the kid don't got much time left."

"Minutes at most," Kensei concurred. "That body is nearly completely hollow."

The beast had transformed as it fought and grew stronger, and Urahara had a sense that the fighting had only served to let it realize its power more and more. It had grown taller, more muscular, and the skin was entirely white now. Great curved horns adorned its forehead, two rough lines of bright red running down its forehead and over the eye slits of its mask, down past its jaws. It roared, Lisa having barely evaded vivisection for the seventeenth time already, and it opened its jaw. A cero began to form, red-black and pulsating with energy.

"Hachi!" cried Shinji.

"Understood!" the visored cried, already at work constructing a spell to negate the burst. Something that powerful, they all knew, could level an entire city and kill anything caught in its path.

"He won't make it," Kensei said, clenching his fists.

"Urahara, if you got anything, now's the time to do it!" Shinji snapped.

Urahara had already rifled through his pockets and pulled out a small, white device, just about fitting into his palm. It blinked blue, and he threw it at the hollow with expert precision, the little device letting out a burst of energy as it came close to the hollow's head. It fell to the ground lifeless, but the cero had gone.

"Got more of those?" said Shinji.

"A few," Urahara said, a hint of worry in his voice, "but they're really batteries for a larger… device."

"Tell me about it. Now," Shinji demanded.

"Well, it's based on the same technology as the hollow bait. I reverse engineered the spiritual molecular structure-"

"What it can do, egghead!"

"Oh yes, right. The device can, in theory, completely nullify a strong hollow energy, assuming it isn't well controlled."

"In theory?"

"Well, I didn't have time to test it. Science isn't magic, you know. These things take time to be made reliable."

Shinji made a face. "So, what's the catch?"

"Well, assuming it works-"

"Now, doesn't that just inspire confidence?"

"Assuming it works, it'd force the hollow back into dormancy. The problem is Ichigo would be back to square one. The hollow would eventually come back, and we'd be right back where we started."

Shinji furrowed his brows, as if deep in thought, if only for a few seconds; there was precious little time to spare.

"It'll have to do," he said at last, turning his eyes on the hollow. "Hachi, how much time's he got left?"

"Three minutes at most," said the kido specialist, short of breath.

"Right. Kensei, Love, on me. The rest of you, surround it. Hold nothing back; beat the bastard to a pulp if you have to. Urahara?"

"Yes?"

"Use it if you have to, but not a moment before. He didn't come this far to get set back."

"Agreed," Urahara said.

"Alright," Shinji said before he broke into a run, "three minutes, people!"

The hollow roared, and an all-out battle ensued within moments.

---

Ichigo fought like he never had before. Nothing existed but the movements of his arms, his legs, his body; his mind was sharper than it ever had been, finding new patterns of attack whenever it needed one. Never had more been asked of him, and never had the stakes been higher, and never would he be sharper than he was in this very moment. The hollow's tricks had at first been frustrating, but Ichigo found that with the speed of his bankai, its short-range teleportation wasn't difficult to react to. It would disappear, Ichigo would find it, push it back, and so it would repeat. In sword-to-sword, it still held the edge, but Ichigo had stopped playing fair, stopped fighting with the blade alone. Where the hollow would anticipate an overhead strike, Ichigo would lash out with a foot to catch it in the knee. When they got in close, it would get a knee to the gut for its troubles. If his blade was pinned down to the ground, he would lash out with an elbow and feel a gratifying thud as it slammed into the beast's nose. His tactics were unconventional, a mixture of his karate training and the thuggery of fighting punks, unpredictable and informal.

It was working. No matter what the hollow did, no matter where it went, Ichigo matched it, met it, and countered it. He had been cut multiple times, struck and beaten, but somehow it hadn't seemed to matter. His focus was too strong, and the less he thought of it, the less the pain seemed to matter. In this realm, it seemed, will alone mattered.

"You cheap little punk!" the hollow snarled, launching into a quick series of attacks, forcing Ichigo on the defense. "I am king here! Your time is coming, do you hear? Soon, all of this will be mine!"

Ichigo caught its blade and punched it in the throat.

"You're afraid," he said calmly. "I can sense it. I think you always were. That's why you tried to get me with nightmares at first, because you always knew I had the strength. You are ruthless and devious, like any hollow, but it's too late. Sooner or later, I'll pin you down and smash your face in until you give."

The hollow's face twisted into a mask of rage. It shrieked and charged, but Ichigo, anticipating the attack, twisted himself forward, slamming the hilt of his blade into the hollow's gut. At the same time, its blade skewered Ichigo's gut, but he paid it no mind. He grabbed its sword arm by the wrist with his off-hand, and with his sword hand he slammed the end of the hilt into the hollow's face, over and over. It squirmed and twisted, trying to break free, even letting go of the blade as it did so, but Ichigo refused to relent. Kicking at its knee, he forced it down on one knee while continuing to bash its face. Letting go of his own blade, he grabbed the hollow by the neck with both hands and pushed it down, onto its back, leaping on top of it. The hollow scratched at him, twisting, trying to break free, but Ichigo was having none of it. He pinned it down, straddling its waist, raising one hand to strike its face. His fist came down, once, twice, three times, and the hollow let out a gurgling grunt, desperate to break free.

"Mine," Ichigo said coldly. "This is mine, monster!"

"You… don't have the… strength," the hollow snarled in between punches.

"I'll show you strength!" Ichigo spat.

Finally the hollow caught his fist in one hand, just barely holding back. Ichigo's grip tightened around its neck. It was doubtful whether he could really choke anything in a world like this, but it was worth trying.

"Heh," said the hollow, a bit of glee returning to his face. "You remember, don't you? What pushed you that far in the first place?"

Ichigo did not respond, wrenching his fist free for another strike. But as he raised it, suddenly the world around them changed, the bright white replaced with darkness. Surprised, Ichigo paused. Rapidly, the world around them changed, the dark taking a new and familiar shape.

His house. At night. The same hallway he had stalked through in his nightmares, leading to his parents' bedroom. He stood up, realizing the hollow he had pinned down was gone. Taking a deep breath, he took a step forward, blade in hand.

He saw the same vision. He approached the room, feeling the familiar sense of dread. There was a small trail of blood coming out the doorway to the bedroom, and as he stepped in, he saw the same sight again.

His parents, mauled and gored almost beyond recognition. Chunks of flesh ripped from their bodies, their lifeless eyes staring at him in the moonlight.

And then he was straddling his mother's dead body, raising bloodied claws from her corpse, holding warm chunks of bloody meat ripped from her guts. Inside, he felt a familiar wave of nausea.

A lie.

He felt Zangetsu's voice inside him, firm and underlined with anger.

"I know," he mumbled. "I know it isn't real."

"Can't you see it, Ichigo?" he heard the hollow's voice reverberate across the entire world, from everywhere and nowhere, deafening and quiet at the same time.

"This is where it will go. Sooner or later, I'll take charge, and that's where it goes. Face it, Ichigo. You are only prolonging the inevitable. Let go and die. Let your worries go away. There will be no pain then…"

Ichigo stood up, and felt his mother's corpse slump off the bed as he stepped onto the floor. Slowly, he looked down onto his body, plain white, muscular, and clawed.

"I feel you," he said quietly. "You're strong, but you don't know what do with it. You're angry and malicious, but you don't know why. That's why you want to kill- my family, and then anything else in your way. You're lost and weak."

"It won't work," the hollow mocked. "You think you can read my mind?"

"You could read mine," Ichigo said, "and we share the same space, don't we?"

He breathed in, focusing.

"You've kept yourself hidden all this time, but here and now, I feel you for what you are. Lost and angry, without purpose. I'll give you that, then. It'll be from behind a cage, but I'll give you purpose."

"You dare?" the voice sneered angrily. "You dare speak to me like that? Like you know anything? Look at yourself, Ichigo! You're a monster, if not now, then in the future!"

Ichigo shook his head, and slowly reached out to touch the mask running across his face. It was thick and bony, and he felt the weight of its horns.

"It was your mistake to dress me up like this," he said, "to make me see what you saw. Because now I understand you, just a little. It's terrible, but I understand what you're like."

His hand clamped around the shape of his mask, gently at first, then firmly, his bestial claws straining against the bone of his face.

"You can't take it off! That's who you are!" the hollow's voice shrieked.

"It's who you are," said Ichigo calmly. He grunted as he felt the mask's bone strain against the force of his hand, his skull aching under the pressure. He let out a loud cry, and with one firm movement he curled his fingers, shattering the bone of the mask. Blood seeped down from his face; it was like removing a nasty scab, but Ichigo was undeterred. He grasped at what remained of the mask with both hands, and ripped it free. Blood splattered across the room, and Ichigo knew pain-

-and then suddenly, there was no house at night, no macabre bedroom, no dead parents, only the bright blue sky of Zangetsu's world. The clouds were serene, moving slowly and harmoniously across the sky. To the left of him stood the old man himself, giving Ichigo a stern, but approving look.

"You saw through it."

"Yes," Ichigo said soberly, staring into the distance, "and not a moment too soon, either."

He felt oddly serene, calm; he felt as if the world was his to control, as if the touch of his fingertips could move mountains and drain oceans.

"You," he said, "show yourself."

There was no disobeying his command. His voice rung across the world with absolute force, and the hollow stood before him, an angry glare in its chalk-white face.

"We'll have to learn to live with each other," said Ichigo. "Neither of us may like it, but neither of us has a choice."

"If you slip up even once," sneered the hollow, "if you let yourself relax for even a second, I'll be there, gnawing at your mind. One day, Ichigo, when you are weak and at your last leg, I'll be there to take charge."

"I know," Ichigo said plainly, "but until then, you stay here."

The hollow simply glared at him.

"You won't have nothing. When I call on you in battle, you'll feel the same thrills as I do. And there will be plenty of fighting ahead, that much I can promise you."

"A pittance," spat the hollow.

"A pittance is better than nothing. For now… go back to your cage."

At Ichigo's mental command, great metal bars encased the hollow, keeping it firmly in place.

"Well done, Ichigo," said Zangetsu, pride in his voice. "You have taken another step toward mastering yourself."

"I have a lot of steps left to take. I'll stop when I'm dead, I think."

"Well said."

With that, Ichigo felt the world around him begin to unravel, not into chaos and disorder, but simply fading away naturally, taking him back to reality. He blinked, and suddenly he stood on the ground of the abandoned warehouse of the visored.

It was to a scene of destruction that he awoke. The ground around him was torn, ripped and shredded; pieces of concrete had sprayed all around, fresh dirt opened in great rifts everywhere around him. He could see Love and Rose, both barely standing up, their clothes torn and bloodied. Kensei was breathing heavily, fists raised but looking like he could keel over any moment. Shinji held himself upright by leaning on his blade, a trail of blood running down his face. Further back he could see Hiyori lying unconscious on the ground, Hachi not far from her. Lisa was on her back, staring up at him, propping herself up on one elbow with great effort. Mashiro was lying down, but slowly managed to sit up.

"That was… whoo, that was… crazy," she said, sounding dizzy. "Actually, I think I'm gonna pass out again…"

And so she did, slumping over on her back.

"Took you long enough," Shinji grunted, a small grin creeping across his face.

"…I did that?" Ichigo said, looking at the sad state of his tutors. Despite himself, he was a little impressed.

"Well, don't sound so damn happy about it," snorted Kensei. "Do you know how much we had to put our backs into it to make sure you didn't just die?"

"I'm… I'm grateful," Ichigo said slowly, the calm from before persisting. "Really, I am. It's… under control now. For a given value of the word, at least."

"Congratulations, Mister Kurosaki," Urahara said brightly, and Ichigo noticed the scientist was the only one not looking as if he had just lived through a tornado. "As I said, I had confidence in you."

"Bastard…" Shinji muttered. "Well, kid, don't let this go to your head. That right there was the most important part, but from here on, it's more and more training. Got that?"

"Yes," Ichigo said firmly, "every day. His power… I can feel it inside me. It's so different now, when he isn't using it to… to eat my mind."

"Don't let that go to your head, either," Shinji warned. "I remember it plain as day, and it's easy to let something like that get to you. Don't rely on it more than you have to."

Ichigo nodded. "As you say… sensei."

"Sheesh, sensei?" Shinji muttered. "Anyway… I think we all better get ourselves patched up. You go home, kid, and make sure to meditate. This kind of control is good, but it can be lost if you don't practice it properly."

"Understood."

"And I had better get back too," Urahara said. "After all, I have a host of data to go through."

"Thank you," Ichigo said sincerely. "Thank you to each and every one of you."

Shinji grunted something inaudible, and Ichigo decided that perhaps it was best to leave the visored to their own devices. Making his way toward his human body, he felt a great sense of elation. Dark had turned to light. The night had passed, and dawn had come. Now, he felt as if he could take on the world, and win.

---

Erza found it hard to watch Soifon ask the same questions over and over, watch the espada's growing frustration, but she forced herself. They had made progress, of course; the information they had gotten so far was, if not revolutionary, then at least interesting. They had a consistent account of Aizen's forces, if only through the lens of a brute. They had some knowledge of the layout of Hueco Mundo, although it was much the same as Erza remembered it from all those years ago when she and Aizen had sworn to the same cause. Grimmjow himself was not easy to work with, frequently lashing out at his interrogator with vulgar insults, tirades that were as inventive as they were crude. Soifon weathered it with professional calm, continuing to ask her questions. For five hours it had gone on, and Erza had left Byakuya to watch over the city in the meantime. They could not afford to be caught unawares, defector or no defector.

Suddenly there was a thumping on the door, an aggressive, urgent, rapid-fire set of hard knocks. Erza turned to deal with it within the second, but the knocks continued until she opened the door, and an excitable Nozomi almost put her knuckles into Erza's chest.

"What is it?" said Erza firmly. It had better be important; this was a serious matter that ought not to be disturbed over anything small.

"The documents," Nozomi said urgently, "I've studied them, just like you said."

"And?"

"Well, although there is much left to uncover and although I can't be sure about all of the science involved, it's actually quite fascinating-"

"The documents, Nozomi," Erza reminded her before the scientist could go on a tangent.

"Right. I… I think I've got a fairly good idea of what Aizen's plan is."

"Aside from conquering the Gotei?"

"Yes," Nozomi said firmly. "It's much, much bigger than that. You need to see this. Right now."

There was something very, very urgent in her voice, and Erza decided to trust her. Nozomi was a scientific advisor, after all; this was her area of expertise.

"Yoruichi, keep an eye on them," she said. The former stealth corps commander only nodded. "All right, Nozomi, what have you got for me?"

---

Well now, I'm sure ALOT of the content that happened in this chapter caught you by surprise. I'd like to go over them one at a time if you don't mind.

1. Grimjow. Yes, we've actually decided to have him "join forces" with the shinigami. Now obviously this is less out of the goodness of his heart, and more him just seeing an opportunity to fuck Aizen over. We're going to have ALOT of fun with this possibility I assure you.

2. Zangetsu's "True" Shikai form. I can imagine most of you wernt expecting this to make an appearance so soon, let alone by the hollow as the first wielder. But keep in mind, Ichigo really, REALLY took some short cuts to get where he has. That has to have some kind of consequences in my mind and thus, giving him a "imcomplete" shikai was the way I decided to rationalize the two different shikai. It has precedence in cannon, as seen wth Yumichika, and even Lisanna in this very story.

3. New Bankai: Well, kinda. Its still the same in terms of ability and name, but much like the Shikai, the Tensa Zangetsu we've seen up till now is incomplete, due to the shortcuts used to obtain it. Its more or less kinda what happened with Renji's Bankai, only we've keep the name. Now if I were to be honest, I would have LOVED to have used the Bankai seen in the final arc...but I know my cowriter would reject it outright. Thus, I decided to go a different route, and combined different aspects of Ichigo's other Bankais and made it into one.

The Blade is like that of the Fullbring Tensa Zangetsu (Minus the spikes, which my cowriter hated. Its change is now just the extended length and curve of the blade.) The chain going around his arm is from the FGT form he used to beat Aizen. (No, we're NOT using FGT in this and no, it is NOT as powerful as the bankai he used to defeat Aizen.) and the handle is how the original bankai is. Ultimatly, I feel this works out for the best.

Both these new shikai and Bankai are still currently unavalible to Ichigo, but he WILL get them eventually. I figured it would be best to foreshadow them first...just like the last two things I want to discuss.

4. New Techiques. Ichigo NEEDS new techiques, I think we can all agree on this, and thus we used the hollow to showcase just a few. There are more yto be seen to be sure, and you can imagine that these will be given to Ichigo as time goes on. Feel free to PM me any idea's you yourself may have for a new move. (Also, yes that attack used by the hollow in shikai WAS the Getsuga Juujishou. I wasn't allowed to add in the attack name for reasons that are a bit complicated.)

5. Vasto Lorde Ichigo: Yes, I imagine none of you expected THIS to show up during his training with the vizards. As such, they...kinda got their asses kicked. Now had they gone after him with intent to kill, this would have resulted in the hollow's demise, but even then, it would have been a hard fought victory. This is also being done to foreshadow it early on for its later use. (which will have a better reason than cannons.) I'm VERY lucky I was able to convince my writer to let me include this, and thanks to some brainstorming, the how and why of its uses will be better written than what we got in cannon. No deus ex machina out of left field here my friends. We have real, PROPER, build up this time.

Now as ive said earlier, it is VERY important for us to get some feedback on this, so we know if were doing this right or not. So please, leave us a review.