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)

78. Principio de lucha 2

Hello dear readers. So...…I want to be a bit honest with you all. We've taken a bit of a hit when it comes to the reviews as of late. Now im not expecting every chapter to get over 20 reviews or something insane like that. But lately, we've been lucky to get over 5. It's a bit...Demotivating.

We'll keep writing regardless of how many reviews we get, and I know that with work and/or education, sometimes it's just too hard to really leave any real thoughts on a chapter. I totally get that, and I've been going through some hard times at my own job myself. Trust me, I get how exhausting those can be.

But hearing what people think of what we've written so far is something a writer thrives on, and a lack of reception gives way to doubt in ones skill as a writer. Has there just not been enough interesting things going on? Well I can safly say once we're past this current battle, things are going to change drastically. More so than ever before. So expect BIG cannon changes once this battle is over. If you thought the substitute soul reaper and soul society arcs were changed a lot...Oh you haven't seen nothing yet!

But while I don't want to look like some beggar for reviews...I'd just want you to all know that every single one of them means so much to us. In a way, its what strives us to continue being as good as we are and to get better.

I'd like to thank Wolfdude16, darkmachines, G4R1K, Imperial warlord, and any guest reviewers who have still continued to leave their reviews in these recent times. It's truly appreciated.

I'm hopping we can get a more larger response this time around. We've tried to do what we can to make this chapter fun and interesting, and we'll continue to do so going forward. All I ask for is you, our readers, to let us know how we're doing. By no means am I demanding more. That's not the case...I just want you to all know that it does help us out.

Anyways, enough with the delay, onto the chapter!

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!

---

The dome engulfed them both, row upon row of blades setting the border for a battleground few ever laid eyes on, and fewer still lived to speak of. Already, a multitude of blades were missing from its walls, broken in the battle with the obnoxiously fearsome espada, Ulquiorra Cifer.

He had been forced to do it. A being of such strength had hierro so potent that Byakuya's blades could only scratch his skin, and his foe's strength and speed was such that he could barely even catch the opportunity to try. Innumerable blades had tried and failed, each one too weak to break the armour of the foul arrancar. Met with this setback, Byakuya had unleashed senkei, going blow for blow with the espada. At long last, it had been forced to draw its sword, although how slow his foe had been to do so was an insult in itself.

It had gone better, at least initially. Byakuya had seized the initiative, and for a few glorious seconds, he had pushed the espada back. Senkei had slowed its movements, and for a brief minute or so, Byakuya had let himself hope it might allow him to gain enough of an edge to seize victory, but to his frustration the espada had, with immaculate swordplay, matched his speed despite the penalty forced upon him by the dome of blades. Byakuya's face was a well-tempered mask of dispassionate focus, almost as much as Ulquiorra's, but on the inside, frustration boiled and writhed, threatening his iron will and hard-earned discipline. The arrancar, Byakuya knew, had yet to unleash its full power, and even at this base level, it still matched Byakuya with his bankai unleashed. The realization crept into his mind, from unwelcome edges of logical deduction, that he might lack the strength to vanquish an enemy such as this.

He violently suppressed these thoughts, throwing himself into the fight with renewed vigour. There was no threat he could not face, could not conquer. What was nobility, what was skill, if not the ability to overcome seemingly impossible odds?

The espada was fighting rather seriously; there was at least that. Byakuya had pushed him hard, and what had once been rather apathetic parrying with little interest in doing his enemy harm had now become a fast-paced, deadly struggle with intent to kill. Ulquiorra feinted, but Byakuya was ready for the attack, moving his head sideways to evade a thrust that would have gone through his skull, immediately launching a counter-attack. His blade surged forward, but although it struck home, he barely managed to breach the hollow's skin, its exceptional armour proving difficult for even Byakuya to pierce. He jumped back just in time to evade a horizontal slash, immediately coming down with an overhead strike. The espada caught the strike quickly; it had been much too obvious not to react to, but Byakuya had what he wanted. He pushed down, the espada holding firm. His brows furrowing, Byakuya quickly let go with one hand, thrusting it forward, against the espada's chest.

"Hadou thirty-two: Oukasen!" he cried, the spell forming instantaneously. A blinding yellow light struck, exploding outward, striking the espada point-blank. Ulquiorra, caught unawares, tumbled back, sliding toward the edge of the dome of blades. Byakuya, seeing the opportunity, raised his hand again.

"Bakudo sixty-one: Rikujoukourou!" he said, and at once the six bars of light formed around the espada, freezing him in place. His blade raised and pointed directly forward, held in both hands, Byakuya charged.

If Ulquiorra was surprised, he never showed it. Instead, he flexed his spiritual energy, pushing back against the spell holding him. It buckled and broke under his overwhelming reiatsu, one bar shattering almost immediately. It was enough that he could free his sword arm, able to angle it up to parry Byakuya's stab just in time, redirecting the blow to the side. Byakuya grit his teeth, trying again and again, but Ulquiorra quickly parried each strike. Slowly but surely he was freeing himself, one bar of light breaking every second. Byakuya let out a growl, without even realizing it, and redoubled his efforts. He had played to his strengths, used his superior arsenal, and the espada seemed to barely even have broken a sweat!

Regardless, there was no way to go but forward. He had to keep going. He had to fight it and beat it. He had to at least drive it off-

"GETSUGA TENSHOU!"

The missile, crude as a sledgehammer, slammed through the wall of blades, and Byakuya had to move out of the way. The espada calmly caught the strike head on, cutting it in half. The energies of the simple missile subsided, wasted. Byakuya felt his choler rise as he saw Kurosaki Ichigo dare to step into his senkei, daring to interrupt his duel, daring to try to steal the credit that was his to claim.

"Hiya," said Ichigo cockily, sword slung over his shoulder. "Looked like you could use a hand there."

"You," Byakuya said irritably, his voice just barely kept neutral.

"Let me just get my bankai out, and we'll-"

"This does not concern you. Leave," said Byakuya, as firmly as he could without raising his voice. "This battle is not yours to intrude upon."

"Intrude?" the filthy commoner said incredulously. "Hey dumbass, you weren't getting anywhere, and this isn't about your personal pissing contest with yourself! This arrancar," he said it loudly, his voice growing stronger with each word, "he's threatening my city, and I don't have time for your chivalrous bullshit! Now, suck it up and work with me!"

Byakuya's eyes narrowed. If looks could have killed, Ichigo and his entire bloodline would have been evaporated.

"I do not need the meddling of inexperienced fools to win this battle. Leave."

"Big words for the bastard I beat after just a few months of training!" Ichigo shot back angrily.

Where Byakuya had just now felt only a general loathing, he now felt real hate well up in his chest. He dared? This little half-breed human mutt dared? Had he not been involved in mortal combat, he would surely have struck the insolent little bastard's head from his shoulders.

"Pitiful."

The espada spoke at last, looking as unimpressed as he sounded.

"It seems the Gotei does not only employ children, but it also bickers like them. You seek to defeat Lord Aizen with such disunion?"

Byakuya nearly fell for the goad, but instead tightened his grip on the blade, and turned his gaze toward the espada once more.

"Rest assured," he said, struggling to speak as calmly and collectedly as usual, "I need no aid to defeat you, espada, nor will I waste another word arguing."

"Hnf," said Ulquiorra, lowering his blade.

Byakuya told himself that he was not rising to a goad as he charged, but he could never have been sure of it. The espada thinking so little of him, first scion of House Kuchiki, captain of the Gotei, was infuriating- and all because of that filthy half-baked excuse for a shinigami. He raised his blade for a stab, his strike parried at the last second. The two locked blades once more, launching into a furious exchange of blows, Byakuya pushing the arrancar as far as he could, forcing Ulquiorra to recognize his skill. With cold, furious, utterly focused passion, they were once more trading blows, once more with neither one making any progress.

"Damn it," Ichigo muttered, hastily raising his sword arm, letting his reiatsu surge. "Stupid, stubborn bastard… bankai!"

Byakuya was perplexed to find Ulquiorra had vanished with an unbelievably quick sonido, so fast that he could only just perceive it. His surprise was immediately replaced with anger as, in the espada's place, Kurosaki Ichigo appeared, his blade striking air.

"Out of the way, incompetent!" Byakuya snapped. Ichigo shot him an irritable look, but disappeared just as quickly as Ulquiorra. Byakuya spun around to see the youngling clash with the espada all on his own, the two of them moving at a speed that impressed even him. He grit his teeth. Thief!

Not one to be upstaged, Byakuya charged, blade held low. Ulquiorra, now pressed hard by two opponents at once, lashed out with a kick, catching Ichigo in the gut, bringing up his blade to parry Byakuya's strike. Ichigo slid back, but recovered quickly, and a moment later he reappeared behind the espada. Ulquiorra raised his free arm, his forearm blocking the strike.

"See?" Ichigo demanded. "He's not so tough when it's the two of us!"

"I am beginning to understand your antipathy for this ant," said Ulquiorra, staring Byakuya in the eye.

"On that alone we agree, fiend," Byakuya spat, and skipped back before executing a lightning-fast thrust. Ulquiorra dodged under the strike, and skipped back. Byakuya now found Ichigo parrying his strike; their foe had moved so quickly there had been no time to halt.

"Hey, watch where you're going with that!" Ichigo burst out. "Remember who your enemy is, okay?"

"Believe me, I would not hesitate to skewer you if not for the espada you seek to steal from me, human scum," Byakuya said. His voice was calm; he wondered for how much longer.

"What? 'Steal'? The hell do you think this is, a prize contest?" Ichigo spat.

Byakuya did not listen, already having dashed after Ulquiorra. The espada met him head on, the two of them once more exchanging a lightning-fast series of blows. A second later, Ichigo came at the espada from the side. But, he was surprised as Ulquiorra stepped forward, off-handedly deflecting one of Byakuya's strikes, slamming a punch into the young shinigami's gut. Ichigo doubled over, and the espada grabbed him by the hair, forcefully tossing him toward the ground. As he went tumbling, falling a good fifty yards and hitting the ground, Ulquiorra turned back to Byakuya, just in time to catch another strike.

"I was ordered to kill given the opportunity," he said, "and I believe a man like you will appreciate adherence to command."

Byakuya suddenly found himself on the defensive, the espada truly pushing him now, every strike aimed to kill. Byakuya was a masterful swordsman, and in all truth, his form was likely better than the espada's, but the sheer speed and ferocity was overwhelming.

But, even in the whirlwind of blades, Byakuya saw opportunity. In one-tenth of an eye-blink, he saw it, and before his mind could even register it he seized the opportunity. One of Ulquiorra's strikes had been a bit too strong, a bit too wide, and Byakuya dodged under it, surging forward with a strong thrust. Knowing the resistance he would face from the arrancar's iron skin, he gripped the hilt hard as he stabbed forward, pushing with all his strength.

The blade slid in under Ulquiorra's ribs, and although slowed down by the hierro, Byakuya ran him through, even breaking his skin on the other side. He had almost fully impaled him now, and for the first time since the fight had begun, Byakuya felt a sense of triumph explode in his chest.

Then Ulquiorra lashed out with his free hand, like the strike of a snake, and grabbed Byakuya by the throat. A little bit of blood seeped from his mouth, but the arrancar's face betrayed no reaction to the wound Byakuya had given him. Slowly, the arrancar raised his other hand, still holding the sword, the knuckles coming level with Byakuya's face.

"My congratulations," said the espada dispassionately. "It appears you managed to pierce me after all. Yet…"

Byakuya's eyes widened as he saw, over the espada's knuckles, the beginnings of a cero. He felt the raw power keenly; he would have felt it radiate with force even if he'd had no spiritual aptitude at all. This close, striking with concentrated force at a weak spot like the head… it would surely end him.

He grabbed at the espada's arm, trying to break free, but his fist was like steel and his grip would not budge; he could barely even shift it. Byakuya's struggles grew more intense; he twisted the sword inside the arrancar's body, but it still didn't phase it. If Ulquiorra hurt, it did not hurt enough to make him stop. Byakuya grit his teeth. He had seconds until it would finish charging. Seconds. Seconds, and then he would be dead, the pride of the Kuchiki laid low for all his efforts. It could not end this way! Not with such indignity!

"GETSUGA… TENSHOU!"

The voice was twisted and wrong, reverberating across the air, but Byakuya heard it only distantly. All he knew was that suddenly, the grip on his throat loosened, and the cero went wild as the espada jumped back. He felt the surge of power as the crude projectile missed him by millimetres, the raw surge of power searing his hair and clothes.

"Thought that was enough, you bastard?" said Ichigo, standing again within the dome of blades, sword raised. Byakuya breathed in, blinking. Ulquiorra was missing a hand, and to Byakuya's surprise- almost shock- he realized it was still holding on to his scarf. Disgusted, he ripped off the severed limb, throwing it away. Ulquiorra gave them both an inscrutable gaze.

"Interesting," he said, seeming indifferent to the blood seeping out of his chest and wrist, as if he felt no pain at all. Perhaps he didn't.

"A pale imitation though it is, you have my interest, young shinigami." He said, looking at Ichigo.

Young shinigami? Young shinigami? His life had been saved, Byakuya realized, tasting bile at the thought, by Kurosaki Ichigo- and now, the espada seemed to pay him more heed than he did Byakuya.

"Do not forget," he hissed, "who your opponent is, arrancar!"

"I have not," Ulquiorra said, staring them down. His wounds, Byakuya realized, had stopped bleeding- and he could swear the stump on the espada's arm had grown longer than it was a minute ago. What manner of foul sorcery was this?

---

The massive fist crushed the asphalt as it connected, creating a huge crater where it impacted, ripping through concrete and pebbles with ease. Uryu was nearly overwhelmed by the shockwave alone, but recovered mid-air, gracefully landing on his feet, skipping back as he fired a burst of arrows at the espada. Every single one of them hit; the beast did not so much as try to dodge. Like every shot before it, his arrows did nothing but leave the faintest scorch mark. He might as well have been throwing darts.

Yami roared and charged forward, moving deceptively quickly. With such immense bulk, Uryu might have expected he would be a bit slower, but the arrancar as a group did not play by any of the rules one would expect from a human being, and Yami was no exception to that. Uryu just barely got out of the way, sliding to the side and dashing away. He was limping already. A glancing blow had struck his left leg, and he was sure something had fractured. The only thing working in his favor was the espada's own clumsiness, relying on brute force and bullish charges, but even that would eventually work. Not only was Uryu worn out from his battle with Gantenbainne Mosqueda, but the power difference was too much. He was starting to tire out. When the espada landed a hit- and Uryu was sure it would, given time- he would be reduced to an unpleasant stain on the street.

Where are the damned shinigami?! he thought desperately to himself, realizing how desperate the situation was. Normally, he would detest the idea of accepting assistance from their ilk, let alone being saved, but there was no arguing with this kind of power difference.

Yami lunged at him, his comically oversized fist nearly snatching up Uryu, and the quincy went low, dodged and rolled, and did his best to ignore the jab of pain in his leg. He only barely got to his feet before he felt the tip of the giant's fingers grasping at him, like some kind of advancing titan. Uryu spun, fired a burst of arrows at the monster's eyes, and slid away. His jacket was torn, and his heart raced even more quickly as he realized the monster had almost, almost gotten him.

"You fuckin' gnat!" Yami spat, momentarily distracted by the arrows. "Stand still so's I can kill ya, asshole!"

"What's the problem, espada?" Uryu shouted back, with bravado he had long since spent. "Are you used to prey that just rolls over for you?"

Yami, ever the master of witty retorts, snarled and lashed forward with a furious punch. Fast, impossible to take head on, but… easy to read. Uryu dashed to the side once more, bounced against a building, launched himself into the air to land smoothly behind the espada-

-only to find himself backhanded mid-air.

The blow only partly hit, but it was enough to send him flying. It rattled his ribcage, knocked the air out of his lungs, and this time he knew something had broken. Multiple somethings, undoubtedly. He only barely held on to his bow as he slammed into the street, bouncing and tumbling for several yards before finally stopping.

"Thought I was just a dumb mutt, didn't ya?" Yami said with a devilish grin, as he walked closer, towering over Uryu. He stopped just inches away, a triumphant look on his face. He bent over, extending a hand to grab the quincy. Uryu forced himself up to his elbows, forced the world to stop spinning, desperately trying to move, but he knew it wouldn't work. The blow had stunned him, and now the monster was too close, now his body was much too banged and broken and his will too disjointed. In a second's time, he would be caught, and then all he had to hope for was a quick death. Resignedly, he stared up at his impending doom, refusing to close his eyes or look away. Defiance, at least he could manage that much.

Then in an instant, something happened, so fast and so furious that it took several seconds for Uryu to understand it. At first, it just looked like Yami stumbled back, blood spraying from his shoulder down to his hip. Then Uryu realized there had been a blur. Then, as his mind caught up, he realized that there stood a pink-haired figure in full battle plate, wielding a smooth and deadly longsword, a slight blue glow running down its length- except its edge, which was covered in dark red blood. Smoothly, she flicked the blood off the blade, raised her arm, and as if it was already there, a bow materialized in her hand. Without even drawing the string back, she fired an arrow into the giant's chest, and Yami let out a gurgle, a large hole gouged just next to his heart.

"You- fuggin'-" he managed, before slowly toppling over backward, the ground trembling as he landed.

Gaping, Uryu managed to sit up, realizing that his left arm was broken. Taking pains, he managed to prop himself up with his right, staring up at his saviour.

"M-mentor," he said, breathing heavily, "Me-Meninas?"

"I am sorry about the last-minute entry," she said, reaching into a pocket and retrieving a white handkerchief, with which she smoothly wiped her longsword clean before neatly sheathing it.
"Are you alright? Oh, look at you- of course you aren't. We'll have to do something about that."

"I, I thought," Uryu stuttered, from physical shock as much as the shock of her sudden appearance, "I- I- you said-"

"Yes, I know," said Meninas, gently grabbing him by his right arm. "Are you with me? One, two, three!"

With a dozen bones and muscles yelping in defiance, Uryu let himself be pulled to his feet. He wobbled back and forth, and he felt confident he would have toppled as soon as he had risen if not for how he leaned on her. She was like… a rock, steady and solid.

"But… Paladin McAllon, I don't understand…"

"Look," said Meninas "do I really have to explain now? You're in terrible shape."

"If… if you don't mind." Uryu said tamely.

She shrugged. "It was a test, Uryu. One that I am glad to inform you that you passed. I'd go so far as to say 'with flying colours', even."

"A… test?"

"Being a knight," said Meninas proudly, "means more than just honour and loyalty. Those of the Wandenritter must possess strength of character as much as strength of arm, and loyalty and dedication alone does not character make. What decides character is to do what is right even when it's hard, even when it comes at great personal cost. We are not mindlessly loyal, Uryu. If you had simply obeyed, I would have considered it a failure."

"I…" Uryu said, gaping like a fish. "I uh, I see. But, um… I'm not a knight."

"Regardless," said Meninas casually, "you are being given the strength of one, and it would be irresponsible of us not to be assured such strength is being used virtuously. You charged into the defence of this city, thinking it would cost you the heritage and power that you so much desire, and you did it all the same. That is a noble action, Uryu."

"What… um, all of you go through tests like these?"

"All of us," Meninas said with a nod.

"And um, what if you disagree with what's right and wrong? Er, what if… what if a soldier thinks his commander does wrong? How… how can that work?"

"Then the onus is on his commander to persuade the soldier that he is right, not on the soldier to obey," Meninas said firmly. "I told you, we are not like the Gotei. Mercy, temper, kindness, wisdom: these are all virtues we adhere to. So must we all."

Uryu nodded weakly. His injuries were starting to make themselves reminded; it felt as if his entire body had gone through a meat grinder.

Suddenly, Yami let out an irritated groan. His body, still like a corpse until just now, began to stir. With sudden force, he thrust himself up, standing tall. The bleeding around the hole Meninas' arrow had left had begun to slow down, his inhuman constitution clearly showing.

"Well, I felt that," he rumbled angrily, staring down at the two of them. "I got a bone to pick with you, ya pink little shit!"

Meninas sighed, and shook her heard. "You know, I did think I could have hit him harder. I must be getting sloppy."

Uryu breathed in sharply, a pang of fear rushing in. He had thought the espada well and truly dead, finished- but then again, Meninas seemed entirely unconcerned.

"Could you stand on your own for a little?" she said, giving Uryu a reassuring look. "It won't take a minute. Or, do you need to sit down?"

"Er, I'll be fine," Uryu mumbled, a little taken aback at her surprisingly fussy comments.

Meninas nodded. "Right, then. I'm letting go now. Be careful."

Uryu avoided an embarassing fall to the ground by leaning on a lamp post, and watched with awe as the knight walked toward the espada, calm as the eye of a storm.

Yami clenched a fist.

"Get that sword out, bitch," he snarled, "'cause you're in for a world of pain now!"

To drive his point home, he went for his own blade, pulling the zanpakutou from its sheath with visible effort. He was wounded, that much was clear, but with such brute strength and power, Uryu knew better than to think he was beaten. Meninas didn't seem to share that opinion, though.

"No, thank you," she said politely.

"The fuck you mean, 'No, thank you'?" Yami spat.

"A knight only draws her blade to end a foe worthy of it."

"Fuck me, and I thought the shinigami were arrogant assholes!" Yami roared, and raised his blade. Meninas turned around briefly, shot Uryu a smile, and then she moved.

Even though he knew it was coming, he could barely register what happened. She made a fist, surged forward, and with a massive discharge of power, her armoured hand struck Yami in the chest.
It was over in the blink of an eye. The espada buckled under the force of the blow, the wind not so much taken from his sails as it was violently ripped away. He flew into the air, several stories up, and then fell to the ground with a dull 'thud', still and lifeless. Uryu couldn't tell in detail; night was setting in, and it was probably for the best. The bulky, muscular beast's chest was a total mess, its ribcage completely caved in. Blood was seeping out of his back in a thick, rich stream. Uryu realized he was gaping. The sheer power she had exuded, if only briefly, was absolutely astonishing.

"Well," said Meninas, exhaling gracefully, "that should do it. Are you alright over there?"

"Er, yes," Uryu said, wincing slightly as she walked over to support him again.

"Good."

"That power… it was monstrous. How… I mean… how?"

"It is strength bestowed upon me by His Majesty. He has many a gift to offer his vassals. Some are complex. Mine is not- just raw power. You like it?"

"…Yes," Uryu said, nodding slowly. "But…" he said, still staring at the broken espada, "aren't you… aren't you going to finish him?"

"No," Meninas said plainly.

"Is that chivalry? Honour?"

"You misunderstand. Letting a beaten enemy live is indeed honourable, but it is not a courtesy we extend to hollows. But one of his strength…" she shook her head, "no, a hollow that has absorbed such power, and so many souls, should be purged by the blade of a zanpakutou. The odd hollow here or there? Good enough. But we cannot go too far. To interfere with the flow of souls is the kind of folly that led to the great shinigami wars."

"I… see," said Uryu, digesting the sentiment.

"I understand if you find it perplexing. We are not keen on the Gotei Thirteen, but fundamentally, shinigami perform an important role. Now, you really need some medical attention, and I cannot stand here explaining things until you go unconscious."

Unceremoniously, she scooped Uryu up into her arms, holding him in a bridal carry.

"Uh… yes ma'am," he said meekly.

"We're done here. Well done, young Uryu," she said gently, and Uryu's heart swelled. It didn't swell quite as much a second later, when she dashed off into the night, and Uryu felt his body protest at every sudden movement of her hirenkyaku.

But somehow, it all felt worth the pain still. Ishida Uryu, a knight… fighting by the side of somebody like her. Despite his injuries, the prospect had never seemed more appealing.

---

With her blade held at the ready, Rukia carefully approached the arrancar. She had heard reports of them by now, privaron, former espada looking to regain their glory by fighting in the war. Aizen was cautious with revealing his true strength even now, it seemed. She stopped some distance away from her opponent, who stared her down with a condescending smile on her face. She had dark hair, a shade of purple so dark it was almost black, held up in two pigtails. Two tear-shaped purple markings lay below her eyes. Her hollow fragment lay on the left side of her forehead, and along with her white, gothic-style dress, it gave her the refined expression of a dominatrix.

"Who are you?" Rukia demanded.

"Cirucci Thunderwitch, of course," said the privaron, as if it were obvious, "once the fifth espada. Really, you shinigami are just rude. I know all your captains and vice-captains by heart, but you can't even remember an espada? Tut-tut," she said, shaking her head with faux disappointment.

"But I can't say I remember you, shinigami. You wear the uniform, but… oh, you wouldn't be one of the children, would you? I'd feel terrible, having to slaughter a child."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Rukia said darkly, on edge; as calm as the privaron seemed, Rukia knew it could snap at any moment, that this power was not one to be underestimated.

"Well, that was a total lie, I'll admit," Cirucci said with a shrug, "but it wouldn't be much of a challenge. Are you sure you're not one of them? You're awfully short, and you have no chest to speak of."

Rukia was much too dignified to rise to such an obvious bait, but it irked her a little. But, she was a Kuchiki, and somewhere out there her brother was fighting, and she had no intention of dishonouring him.

"Are you quite finished?" she said severely.

"Oh, but I was just getting started," Cirucci said playfully. "In fact-"

"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki," Rukia commanded, and as she called, her blade answered, extending and turning an icy white. She pointed the blade down, stabbing the ground before her three times, and cried, "Hakuren!"

There was a flood of freezing air surging forward like a flood, bursting with power, leaving a massive trail of ice. Cirucci jumped out of the way, narrowly evading the strike.

"That's just rude!" she snapped irritably. "I was talking, you ignorant bint!"

"Perhaps you confused this for a beauty parlour, then," Rukia said coolly, "but in my experience, battles are for fighting. Are you confused as to where you are, Cirucci Thunderwitch?"

"Fine, fine, have it your way," Cirucci said, and reached for her sword. Only now, Rukia realized the weapon was radically different from any zanpakutou she had seen- it was not a sword at all, but rather it looked like a large golden disk attached to a hilt. It was more than that, she realized as she had to dodge back from the disk suddenly flying at her. She parried it with her blade, metal grinding against metal, and suddenly the disk was pulled back again. It was attached to the handle by a long piece of string, it seemed, swung around like a whip.

Deciding to take the initiative rather than let the arrancar dictate the pace of the battle, Rukia surged forward with a quick shunpo. She raised her blade high, batting away the twirling disc as Cirucci lashed out, seeming surprised by Rukia's assault. She managed to pull her weapon back in time just to block Rukia's first strike, but it was obvious that the arrancar was no close-combat expert. Her weapon was a poor fit for it to begin with, and although she moved with speed and grace, Rukia could sense the relative clumsiness of a fighter without form.

"Sheesh, this is disappointing," Cirucci said, skipping back rapidly, launching a burst of bala to cover her retreat. "Here I thought we'd have ourselves a proper, ladylike exchange of ranged combat, and you have to go and make it a boorish brute battle."

"There is nothing 'ladylike' about battle," Rukia said, surging forward after side-stepping the red projectiles, "and I am no lady!"

She gave chase, Cirucci deftly avoiding her strikes and charges, but Rukia was not a beginner anymore. She noticed, for instance, that the arrancar wasn't using any of its stronger tricks as long as it was busy running away, that its moves were always a reaction to hers. It could be a feint, but Rukia was ready for it. They traded blows, Rukia constantly on the offensive, Cirucci barely finding the time to strike out with her disc.

"No lady, huh?" Cirucci said irritably. "You know, I do so detest a woman who rejects her own nature. If you are no lady, what are you?"

"An officer!" Rukia said, fiercely pushing her advantage with a set of quick stabs. Cirucci sneered, charging a cero in her hand. If it hit, this close, it didn't need to be accurate. But Rukia saw it well ahead of time, and the seconds it took to charge it were more than enough. She was of the house of Kuchiki, and she was going to do her brother proud- and so, she decided she would take a leaf out of his book. As the cero charged, she slipped into a single swift step of shunpo, reappearing behind Cirucci just as the ball of red, raw power discharged. Just as Rukia had expected, the privaron was ready for her strike, spinning around with animal agility, arm raised to block her strike. But a simple back-stab was not Rukia's intent.

"Bakudo four: Hainawa!" she cried, and pointed her fingers down with one hand. The spell surged out, a glowing rope of yellow energy wrapping around Cirucci's ankles. Surprised by the sudden spell, the privaron was caught unawares, and Rukia just pulled, as hard as she could. Cirucci overbalanced, and fell over onto the ground. Rukia stabbed her blade down, barely missing the privaron's neck, instead shattering an inch or two of asphalt. Rukia jumped back, and an instant later a hail of bala missed her by millimetres. She'd had one shot before Cirucci would counter-attack, and she had been too arrogant, too sure she could go for a fatal strike right off the bat. The privaron had not become an espada for nothing. Rukia had a long way to go before she could hope to do her brother proud, it seemed.

Undaunted, she pointed two fingers at Cirucci, who was rolling away, quickly ripping the glowing rope away from her legs.

"Hadou four: Byakurai!"

The ray of lightning shot out, and this time Rukia had aimed for centre mass. She was rewarded with a pained yelp, and Rukia held her blade up, but found herself forced to parry a quick lash from the strange whip-disc before she could attack again.

"You are an obnoxious brute, aren't you?" Cirucci spat. Her right shoulder had been pierced, Rukia could see. Blood poured out, staining the privaron's pristine white outfit, and a small tear in her clothes marked the entrance wound.

"You are one to speak of being true to one's nature," Rukia said haughtily, cautiously stepping closer, her guard raised. "You are a monster, not a lady, and no amount of eloquence and good clothes will change that."

"That's just the thing," Cirucci said with an unpleasant chuckle. "Humans are monsters, too. But I've had enough of this chatter, of this… uncivilized nonsense. I may not have heard of you, but you are a nuisance. So-"

Rukia surged forward, and Cirucci parried just in time.

"Rude!" she snarled. "Haven't you learned not to interrupt people when they're speaking? I thought by your bearing and speech that you had some manners, you mongrel!"

"A time and a place!" Rukia shot back. The charge had very slightly caught the privaron off guard, and Rukia was pushing her advantage for all it was worth. She went for a low, sweeping horizontal slash, and just as she had predicted, the privaron jumped over it. Before her feet could touch the ground, Rukia thrust her palm forward, touching Cirucci's midsection.

"Hadou one: Shou!"

The spell, basic though it was, was enough to send the unprepared privaron off her balance, tumbling to the ground. Rukia leaped into the air, her blade coming down for a stab just as the privaron rolled onto her back, facing Rukia. She moved her head aside, just like last time, but this time, Rukia didn't aim there. This time, she steered her blade aside at the last moment, and Cirucci cried out as the zanpakutou cut into her sword arm, pinning it to the ground.

"You bitch!" snarled Cirucci, charging a cero in her hand, but Rukia quickly put her foot down on the privaron's wrist, forcing it to the ground, away from where Rukia stood. Calling to her blade, Rukia channelled the powers of her zanpakutou, and suddenly Cirucci's arm began to freeze. First it was just stiff, suddenly numb to the pain, then it became frozen solid, and then a sheet of ice began to encase it.

"N-no!" Cirucci said, suddenly alarmed. She had realized it, then- if it spread, it would begin to encase her entire body, and if that happened, it would be over. Her arms pinned, she opened her mouth, charging a cero. It grew much more quickly than normal, lacking the strength of a normal blast, but it was close enough that Rukia had to jump back. Cirucci, her arms freed, got to her feet. Her right arm broke off as she stood up, shattering into thousands of pieces against the ground. She gave Rukia a hateful glare, and Rukia, for her part, stared back inscrutably. This… if this kept up, she would win. She had disarmed the privaron- figuratively and literally- and it was clear its power was now no match for hers. But, arrancar were more than met the eye, and Rukia knew not to overestimate her position.

Intent on pushing her advantage while Cirucci was still disoriented, Rukia surged forward for a killing blow, but just as she did so, the privaron scrambled for her weapon. Rukia charged on, her heart skipping a beat. If she could reach her in time, if she could stop her from grabbing that weapon, the fight was as good as won. Cirucci moved with the speed of a cornered animal though, quite desperate, and she dodged under Rukia's thrust, rolled to her side, and snatched her weapon from the ground. She got to her feet, taking a cut to her one good arm for her troubles, Rukia's blade cutting through even her hierro. Cirucci yelped and lashed out with a foot, catching Rukia in the gut. The shinigami was thrown back, and nearly losing her balance, she had to focus hard just to not fall over. As she finally stopped wobbling after a few precious seconds and regained her bearings, Cirucci stood up, weapon in hand. Blood trailed down over her forearm and past her wrist, dripping from her knuckles down to the ground.

Rukia cursed quietly, to herself. She had come so close, so close to ending the arrancar… but even so, her enemy was reduced to fighting with her off-hand, and with trauma and blood loss on top of it. There was just one problem…

"Tell me," hissed Cirucci, gritting her teeth, and Rukia wasn't sure if it was more out of indignation or pain, "what is your name again, shinigami?"

"Kuchiki Rukia," Rukia said, quickly running through her options. A quick strike would likely be best, to keep the privaron off her balance still. As it was now, a battle of attrition would go in Rukia's favour, with how much blood the arrancar was losing from her severed arm. Yes, a quick strike, keep her on the defensive, a kido here or there to wear her down…

"Kuchiki," Cirucci spat. "Yes, a scion of a noble house… 'not a lady', indeed! But that would explain it. Captain Kuchiki, is that your father?"

"Brother," Rukia said tensely.

"Pfah," Cirucci snorted. "Well, look what a mess you made of me. I've just been silly to hold back."

Her reiatsu began to rise, the strength of the pressure washing over Rukia in waves.

"Rip, Golondrina!"

There was the problem.

The pressure that had been building up peaked and exploded outward, the massive discharge fuelling the arrancar's abominable transformation.

The mask piece had extended, Rukia saw as the dust settled, into a beak-like shape running over Cirucci's forehead. A set of intimidating black wings spread out, housing ten long blades, and a thick, feathery mane sprouted from the back of her head and shoulders, running down her back. The arms had become long and slender, with claw-like appendages in place of hands, and on her arms just beneath her shoulders, great gilded discs rested, a larger and bulkier form of what her sealed weapon had been. A long, prehensile tail completed it all, and Cirucci stood before Rukia, more powerful than ever. Her legs dangled from her form, raised above the ground on its arms, and she looked like some bizarre predatory bird. Her injuries were gone, as Rukia had expected, and the arrancar looked down on her opponent with victorious glee.

Rukia steeled herself, but she was still not ready for the attack that followed. The privaron's wings rustled, vibrating too quickly for any eye to follow, and it filled the air with a nauseating hum. Like a storm of blades the wings struck, Rukia barely able to parry. She felt a sudden jab of pain, and with shock she realized she had been struck in the shoulder, sent flying back. Somehow keeping her composure, she launched a Byakuyrai toward the arrancar's face, but the shot went wide as Cirucci laughed.

This time Rukia did lose her balance, and thinking on her feet- or rather, off of them- she continued her roll, knowing the quick attacks would keep coming. With a quick Shou aimed at the ground, she launched herself into the air, managing to stabilize there. The ground where she had been seconds ago had been pulverized by a thousand and one cuts, shredding through the asphalt, sending black bits of gravel flying all across the street.

"Hadou thirty-three: Sokatsui!" Rukia cried, raining down blue fire on the privaron. It achieved little except to momentarily distract Cirucci, who laughed at the attack, but it was something Rukia needed badly. To be kept running like this, out of control and put at her opponent's mercy just like she had done to Cirucci only a couple of minutes ago, would be a sure death. She landed on her feet, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, and quickly pointed her blade down. She had managed to stab it into the ground only twice before the privaron came at her again, and her ability interrupted, Rukia was forced to skip back again. She grit her teeth with frustration. Hakuren would do quite a bit of damage, especially with such a large target, but the time it took, albeit brief, was too much for a foe this fast. She had to rethink her priorities, and quickly.

"What's the matter, shinigami?" Cirucci laughed, assured of her dominance now. "Have I upset your plans? Is it too difficult to launch that little avalanche of yours?"

Mockery. Overconfidence. Arrogance. That, Rukia noted, was a fatal flaw, one that could be exploited. But how? Prideful and haughty though she was, Cirucci backed up her boasts with raw power and furious speed. As much as she had been put on the defensive by Rukia's aggressive approach, she had everything to turn that right around; superior reach with her bladed wings, and expertise in utilizing them. Damn it all!

Without thinking about it twice, Rukia had an idea, and launched herself up into the air with a mighty leap. Cirucci followed after, and with one lazy sweep of her wings she caught up, easily, and stabbed forward with both her wings. But as she did so, Rukia cried out,

"Bakudou nine: Hourin!"

From her off-hand, a glowing, orange, rope-like bond flowed, wrapping around Cirucci's neck. Rukia pulled hard, the sudden burst of movement taking her past the bladed wings and inside the privaron's guard. She stabbed her blade forward one-handed, and was rewarded with a shriek of pain as it pierced the privaron's shoulder. The iron skin dampened the strike, but at least Rukia had evened the score. Cirucci snarled and twisted around in the air, and thrusting out with her legs, she kicked Rukia down toward the ground. Caught unawares by the attack, Rukia crashed onto the rooftop of a nearby building, and her bones cried out in protest, the air knocked out of her lungs. Triumphantly, Cirucci let out a bird-like shriek, and went into a steep dive toward her prey like a falcon about to pounce on a rodent. Rukia coughed, knowing she had but a second to react, and forced some air into her lungs. It hurt, but not nearly as much as being impaled by that tail, or those blades, that was for damned sure. As the privaron closed the distance, Rukia aimed her off-hand upward, hastily channeling the energies of a kidou.

"Hadou thirty-one: Shakkahou!" she cried. The red fireball discharged, and Cirucci, too close and too fast now to evade, was struck dead-centre. The blast did little damage, but it sent the bird-like beast off course, bouncing off the side of the building and smashing into the street. Her body aching, Rukia got to her feet and jumped off the roof and down to the street. She winced as she landed, something probably had broken, but there was an opportunity here that she could not let slip. Cirucci had slammed into the ground with great speed, her attempt at a deathblow working against her, and now she looked stunned, just barely about to get to her feet. Rukia took a stance, pointed her blade down, and quickly called on her zanpakutou.

"Second dance," she said, pointing the tip of her blade into the ground once, twice, each one leaving a glowing mark, "Hakuren!"

Cirucci had heard her, but in her dizzied state acted too late. As Rukia spoke the word and stabbed her blade down a third time, there was a surge of cold, an avalanche of icy air coming right for the privaron. Within seconds a long wall of ice had formed, thick, cold, and filling up most of the street. Had she done it? Had she-

"Damn it!" Cirucci snarled, the left half of her body encased in ice along with her wing.

Damn it! At the last second, the privaron had managed to move to avoid a direct hit. Now she raised her free wing, its blades hacking furiously at the wall of ice along with a strong fist, great shards of ice being ripped free with every blow.

Even so, Cirucci was stuck in place for the time being. Should Rukia charge in, then? Go for a killing blow? No- those wings with their built-in blades still outranged her, and she didn't dare risk it. She was still recovering from the shock she had been given when she'd been thrown to the ground, her breath still ragged. Instead, she quickly stabbed her blade into the ground and thrust her palms forward, holding them together by the wrists.

"Ye lord!" she cried out, hoping very badly she had enough time. "Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man!"

Cirucci had nearly broken free now, both her wings liberated from the ice, the bladed limbs ripping apart the ice even more quickly now. Only her side and leg still remained trapped.

"On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus. In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens! Hadou seventy-three: Souren Soukatsui!"

Rukia didn't dare feel relief as the spell completed, a massive burst of blue fire roaring forward from her hands. The spell was complex to execute despite its simple nature, and she would not have attempted it without a full incantation. She only hoped it would be enough. Quickly she reached for her blade, assuming a stance as soon as the fire struck.

She needn't have worried. Cirucci screamed, freed from the ice at last by the blazing heat of the spell, yet too late to avoid it. The inferno caught her fully, and she launched herself into the air as if to avoid, only too late- she was on fire, her feathery mane burnt to a crisp. Her wings burned, and she collapsed to the ground mid-flight, rolling around on the ground, finally managing to put out the fire. She wouldn't have had to bother; the spell had a very limited lifespan, but then again, she had no way of knowing. The haughty arrancar struggled to stand up, managing to do so only barely. Her skin was scorched and sooty, and although her resurreccion seemed to have absorbed most of the damage, she was in poor shape now. Her clothes seared, her wings reduced to mere skeletal shapes, she was a sad echo of what she had been a minute ago.

"Surrender!" demanded Rukia, deciding she should at least make the offer. "Surrender and you will be treated humanely as our prisoner!"

"Surrender?!" Cirucci spat, her voice a hoarse croak. "To the likes of you? To the shinigami? To be one of your guinea pigs? I'd rather die!"

"You will not get another chance," Rukia said sternly, cautiously advancing with her blade raised. "Surrender or die."

"As if!" Cirucci cried, charging forward. Her movements were slow now, compared to what they had been, and Rukia anticipated it without trouble. Smoothly, she side-stepped the attack and cut Cirucci across the side as she did. The privaron stumbled from the sudden injury, falling to one knee. Rukia turned around, and within a second Cirucci could feel the cold, sharp edge of Sode no Shirayuki against her neck.

"Will you persist?" Rukia said.

"Don't you dare… look down on me," Cirucci snarled, her face twisted into a mask of hatred. "I won't be… made a fool of."

"So be it," Rukia said indifferently and raised her blade up for a killing strike with the precision and professionalism of an executioner. Desperate, Cirucci thrust a palm up, and too late Rukia saw it was a cero. Judging by its size, Cirucci had to have started charging it before she even charged in- damn it, how could she have missed that? Quickly, Rukia jumped back, but she was caught in the blast. Although it was not a direct hit, although the hollow's energy went wide into the air, the shockwave knocked Rukia off her feet. She scrambled to get to her feet, blinking; the brightness of the blast had nearly blinded her. As she stood up, her vision blurred, she could see Cirucci stepping inside a hastily opened garganta. As it closed, the privaron gave her a gleeful little wave, smirking evilly.

"Not tonight, shinigami!" she shouted, her voice a pained sing-song tone. The portal closed and she was gone, the street looking as if she had never been there except for a few burnt feathers. Rukia took a few deep breaths, blinked until her vision stabilized, and decided that kill or no kill, a victory was a victory. She sealed her blade, wiped it clean of blood and then smoothly sheathed it. She had not disgraced her name, at the least. She wondered what her brother was doing out there in the night, if he had already killed something far mightier. Well… there was only one way to find out. Her fight was over, but the battle for the city still raged on. With haste, she made her way toward the closest battle, ignoring the protests of her aching body.

---

Hard-hitting speed freaks. Why did it always have to be hard-hitting speed freaks? The thought ran through Momo's frustrated mind as she maintained a barrier against the brutal assault, pushed back through the air over Karakura Town by the relentless strikes of the privaron espada who had introduced himself as Dordonni Alessandro del Socaccio, a tall and devilishly handsome fighter with a goatee and a thick bone fragment with small horns over his forehead to really complete the Luciferian look. He hadn't quite lived up to the kind of villainy he evoked; he was infernally powerful, but so far his attacks had been very direct, lacking any kind of subtlety.

Not that they needed it. No sooner had he boastfully introduced himself than he had charged forward like a whirlwind, and with his legs alone he had begun to drive Momo back, each blow frighteningly powerful. It was a bizarre style of fighting. He didn't use his sword, or even his arms, only his legs, spun around in fast, furious arcs. Momo had barely had time to activate her golden runes, and had taken a nasty glancing blow before she could summon her strength fully. Her right arm ached and throbbed, and it took all she had to keep up. Momo specialized in kidou, not hand-to-hand. An opponent like this would have been better suited to somebody like Captain Soifon, not her.

But, pushed hard though she was, Momo's resolve was not shaken. War did not let one choose opponents of one's liking. If she could not handle an opponent like this, she had no business being on the battlefield, no business participating in the war, and no business being Erza's vice-captain. She grit her teeth, furrowed her brows, and stared down the privaron, blocking yet another thunderous kick.

"Come now, young lady," said the privaron with polite condescension. "You cannot expect to hide behind a shield all fight long. I expect more valour from the Gotei's elite!"

"I'm sorry, but we can't all be glory chasers," Momo said firmly. "Hadou thirty-one: Shakkahou!"

Dordonni somersaulted over the blast, launched from Momo's zanpakutou, evading it with ease.

"Baròn Puntapiès Alto!" he cried, slamming his leg down onto Momo as he sailed over her. Momo crossed her arms, bolstering her shield, but the privaron struck with tenfold strength; her shield overloaded and broke, and she was sent tumbling to the ground. She managed to stabilize her fall just before she hit the ground, but she still fell over. She had turned a free fall and crash into a clumsy landing, at least. She rolled over, knowing what would come next.

A second later, the asphalt near her shattered, sending a spray of black pebbles all around them, a crater forming where she had been a moment ago. Momo pushed herself to her feet, thrusting a hand toward the arrancar, already charging.

"Shou!" she cried, the simple spell throwing him off balance. It appeared he hadn't stabilized fully, and Momo was relieved to see him tumble back. He landed gracefully on his feet, of course; nothing seemed to truly unbalance her fiery opponent, but Momo was already raising her blade for a counter-attack.

"Shakkahou!" she cried, the red ball of fire boosted by the amplifying powers of her shikai. The spell hit Dordonni before he could evade, blasting him back.

"Sokatsui! Shakkahou! Soren Sokatsui!"

There was an enormous display of red and blue light, exploding with a force that could have levelled buildings, a blazing inferno enveloping the whole of the street. The spells were somewhat suboptimal due to their lack of incantations, but Momo's expertise and the fine-tuning effect of her zanpakutou had rendered the difference minimal. The rapid-fire nature of her attack made it well worth it.

However, before she could congratulate herself, Dordonni surged out from the firestorm, singed but unharmed, not unexpectedly having dodged the worst of the blast. Momo had been prepared. She raised a hand, and cried, "Bakudou eight: Seki!"

Dordonni's kick was reversed, the spell completing just in time to repel his attack, and Momo raised her zanpakutou, a red fireball already charging up, but the privaron was too quick. Just as she raised her weapon to strike, he had vanished, and Momo spun around just in time to brace herself for a direct kick that sent her flying. The fireball in her blade discharged harmlessly into the air, and Momo had the air knocked out of her lungs when she collided with a lamp post, her entire body rattled. Dordonni had no plan of relenting, and charged again. No quarter given, that was the way of a hollow, whether it had the shape of a man or not.

Gasping for air, Momo rolled out of the way, desperately firing off a weak blast with her blade at random. She was lucky enough to glance the privaron, who was momentarily knocked back, buying her the precious seconds she needed to get to her feet. She swung her blade around, raising it up for another blast. It hadn't had the time to charge, wasn't all that strong, but it made Dordonni move away when she threw it at him, and that was better than being charged. She skipped back, slipping into a shunpo, only to have to dodge low but a second later as Dordonni caught up. The displaced air from his sweeping kick rustled the hairs on her head.

"Shou!" Momo cried, but Dordonni was ready this time, nimbly somersaulting back and away from the spell before closing the distance once more. Momo had begun to charge fire in her zanpakutou, though, and as he charged, she swung the blade forward. Too close to dodge, the blast caught them both, but Dordonni was worse off- whereas Momo was thrown to the wayside, Dordonni was struck in the head, stumbling back, uneasy on his feet like a drunk. He actually fell onto his back, unbalanced for the first time in their battle.

Momo forced herself to her feet, intent on seizing the opportunity before it was lost. She raised a hand, and cried, "Bakudou sixty-three: Sajou Sabaku!"

Golden chains wrapped around Dordonni, summoned as if from nowhere, and the stunned arrancar was encased fully just as he tried to stand up. Straining against them with his considerable strength, he was nevertheless held in place. Momo breathed a sigh of relief. The chains were durable, and it would take power far greater than his to break out of them easily. Momo aimed her zanpakutou forward, putting her off-hand over the wrist that held the hilt. She called upon the spirit of her weapon, and immediately she felt a surge of power, the indescribable sensation of kidou energy running through Tobiume's length, amplifying, growing, charging, brimming with power and hungering to be unleashed.

"Sprinkled on the bones of the beast!" Momo chanted loudly, totally focused. "Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind. Stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Hadou sixty-three: Raikouhou!"

"Cowardice!" Dordonni snarled, struggling against the chains, the glowing bindings creaking and groaning but nevertheless holding firm. "Is this how you shinigami fight your battles?"

The power grew and grew in Momo's sword, a great ball of lightning taking shape. Raikouhou would normally form a ball of lightning perhaps twice the size of her fist before it discharged and exploded, but its energies running back and forth through Tobiume's blade had left a ball of electric force bigger than Momo's head. As her spell completed the kido finally discharged, and the recoil of it nearly knocked Momo off her feet. The supercharged hadou struck Dordonni in the chest, and there was a blinding light as the lightning ball exploded. Momo, already light on her feet after the massive recoil of the spell, finally lost her balance. As she propped herself up, she saw a brilliant spectacle of light, the spell taking its time to die out. The street was in ruins, and every window on the street had been blown out. The corner of a building had collapsed, and the walls around them took severe punishment as dissipating lightning raked their sides, digging deep creases into brick and mortar- and that was just the residue of the spell. Momo breathed in with a bit of awe as she stood up. She had wanted to rely less on her own crafted magic, to try more of the classic method, and it had worked spectacularly. Tobiume's strength was kido, and kido Momo had woven. The light alone was sure to have been seen for miles.

Slowly, the lightning began to die out. A last few arcs of lightning raked against a couple of lamp poles, overheated to the point where they had begun to bend over their own weight. Cautiously, Momo took a few steps forward, daring to hope this was it.

"D-damn…."

The grunt was long and pained, and on wobbling legs, Dordonni stood up as the dust began to settle. He had crouched down low into a foetal position, arms, legs and head curled in, making himself as small a target as possible in lieu of being able to escape. His clothes were torn and seared, made into rags, and great burns covered his skin. The blast had seared skin and muscle off his left arm; Momo could see white bone where there should have been flesh. He was in terrible shape, but regretfully and frighteningly alive.

"Cowardly…" he croaked, "but undeniably… effective."

Momo raised her blade again, ready to charge a spell, but Dordonni had already raised his, with what little energy he had left, and cried, "Whirl, Giralda!"

The transformation was, by all standards Momo had seen for the arrancar, rather subtle. After the rise and discharge of power, after Dordonni had stood up, healed albeit at the cost of considerable reiatsu expenditure, it was simple. A pair of horns extended from his shoulders. Large pieces of jagged bone with horns of their own encircled his forearms, like some malformed, huge bracelet. Rings of bone circled his legs. Besides that, he looked much the same. The one thing that struck Momo were the two large pieces of bone floating at shoulder level, looking like two oversized bird skulls, hovering in the air.

No- not hovering. Writhing, impatiently bouncing up and down, as if carried by some impossibly strong wind. Momo steeled herself.

"Your trickery is potent, witch," Dordonni proclaimed, pointing at her confidently, "but it is no match for the strength of a gentleman!"

What gentleman would serve the likes of Aizen?

The thought barely had time to pass through Momo's mind before a whirlwind surged at her, and she barely had the time to move out of the way. Asphalt, rock, and debris sprayed through the air, and Momo realized that if they kept the fight to ground level, somebody was going to get hurt. It was bad enough that her spell had wreaked so much havoc, even if it couldn't be helped- but if she stayed, people would die, the very people they fought to protect.

Taking to the skies against a master of the wind, with no cover anywhere, was not an enticing prospect. But, Erza wouldn't let that get in her way. She'd never endanger others, even at the cost of her own life. Her decision made, Momo leapt into the air, the golden runes etched into her skin coming aglow. It was time to bust out the strongest stuff she had, or she would die a gruesome death, and soon.

"Fool!" Dordonni cried, coming level with her some forty yards above ground, the bird skulls weaving a great, barely perceptible castle of air around him, whirling and thrashing like a tornado. "You seek to enter my domain?"

"This is our fight," Momo bit back, "and I want to keep it that way!"

"…Perplexing," said Dordonni, pausing momentarily. "Your attack was cowardly, yet now you act nobly."

"I'm not bound by your definition of cowardice, and I'm not going to fight in a way where you're sure to win and I am sure to lose just to appease your ego. Do your worst."

"You will regret that, I am sure," Dordonni said, his lips curling up into a contented smile.

"Shakkahou!" Momo cried, done talking. Dordonni swerved out of the way quite easily, and at his command the two bird skulls summoned a massive gust of wind, blowing Momo off balance easily. As she fought to recover, thrown like a leaf in the wind, there was a realization.

He evaded the attack. He didn't block it. He's still afraid to be hit. That means there's still hope… if I can hit him.

No sooner had she completed the thought than he was upon her, a sweeping kick very nearly breaking her neck. She ducked low, but lost her balance in doing it, and went into free fall. A quick shou sent her tumble sideways, just in time to evade another ruthless follow-up attack. Twisting around in the air like a cat, Momo righted herself and stopped her fall, erecting a glimmering shield just in time to block another strike.

"Seki!" she cried, and the next strike bounced off her, the privaron caught unawares. Momo dashed away, launching a quick set of destructive spells as she went, more as a distraction than as a serious attempt at harming the arrancar. He evaded them with ease, and began to close the distance once more. She had fallen close to ground level now, and too late, Momo realized she was about to crash. She quickly righted herself once more, and casting seki on herself, she managed to reverse the impact's force. She still landed on the ground, the privaron hot on her heels. Quickly, Momo thrust a palm to the ground, golden light extending down, flowing out, illuminating the street.

"If you believe I'll let you wreak more havoc with your trickery, you're sadly mistaken! Ave Mellizos!" Dordonni bellowed, barrelling down upon her. His kick went wide over her head, but Momo realized as it took effect that the intention had not been to hit her. The two whirlwinds did, though, and sent her flying like a leaf in a stiff breeze.

"You wanted the skies?" Dordonni shouted boastfully, Momo thrown well up into the air. "Then you shall have them, witch!"

"Shakkahou!" Momo cried in return, but the charged fireball went wide as she tumbled through the air currents, making a fresh crater in the road. She was carried higher than ever before, at the mercy of the winds.

"It is useless," Dordonni bragged, catching up with the tumbling Momo. "You lack the strength. Once you lose your concentration, those spells of yours mean nothing."

He charged in close, launching another kick, the winds subsiding only long enough that he could land the hit. Momo, once caught in the wind, now had the wind knocked out of her, and flew further up into the air. But, she had not been unprepared; golden runes had been expended to lessen the impact. If not, she might have had her ribcage shattered, and she would have been finished already. Silently drawing upon her skills, knowing the next attack could come any moment now, she thrust herself sideways with wordless shou. Casting spells with no words at all was difficult, even lower ones, even for her; the connection between verbalization and effect was potent, a difficult obstacle to overcome. All the same, it worked well enough. She was not a moment too soon, either, as Dordonni had once again closed the distance, his vicious kicks forcing Momo back. She skipped to the side, left and then right, barely evading the two bird-skull whirlwinds each time. She fired off a Shakkahou wordlessly, still struggling to breathe, but Dordonni dodged under it gracefully.

Momo thrust herself downward, but a glancing blow from another whirlwind turned her dodge into a free fall. Seemingly helpless, she tumbled toward the ground, only barely stopping herself from crashing at the last second. Nevertheless she fell over, skidding across the ground like a flat rock thrown across the water before sliding still. Her body aching in places she hadn't known could ache, she propped herself up, only to find Dordonni looking down on her, mere yards away, a triumphant look on his face. Desperately, Momo crawled backward, not even getting to her feet. Her eyes were fixed on her opponent, and there was fear in them, written clear as day.

"Is that it, then?" said Dordonni mockingly, stroking his chin, the bird-skulls hovering at shoulder height, slowly following his stride as he walked forward, taking his time to chase her down. "No devious tricks left? No spells? Too stunned to speak, perhaps?"

"Please," Momo said, desperately crawling further back. Dordonni took another long step to catch up.

"Please?" said Dordonni. "I expected better than begging."

Please take another few steps.

"I- I'm not begging," Momo insisted, crawling further back.

One more step. One more smug look.

"That's an odd notion of not begging you have."

Another step.

"You wondered if I had any more devious tricks, didn't you?" Momo said, painstakingly getting to her feet, shakily raising Tobiume. "Well, I'm all out."

Triumphantly, Dordonni surged forward, only to suddenly be frozen in place, a golden glimmer radiating across his body. Vaguely, the shape of a great golden pillar could be made out, from where Dordonni stood, far up to the sky. Exactly where Momo had been before.

"-Except one."

"What is this?" Dordonni demanded, his fingers twitching, struggling against the paralysis. Save for his speech, the movement of his lips and the odd twitch from his limbs, he was frozen in place.

"A spell of my own making. It takes a bit of setup, of course. I suppose you thought nothing of it when I touched the ground you now stand on a minute ago, and I think you thought just as little of it when I ran my hand up into the air, in the exact same place."

"Let me go!" Dordonni demanded.

"I could have tried for a normal spell, I guess," Momo said, slowly approaching the arrancar until they were but a couple yards apart, "but they're breakable. This one… is stronger. It won't last for much longer, but it doesn't have to."

"Coward! Trickster! Dishonourable cur!" Dordonni spat.

"A strange accusation from a hollow," said Momo, coolly. "War is war. You don't get to pick your opponent, or their fighting style. I wasn't used to yours, and it benefitted you. And vice versa, of course."

She raised Tobiume, holding it back, pointing it straight toward the privaron, while holding her free hand up, two fingers folded into her palm along with her thumb, the other two raised up.

"I'm running out of time, so if you don't mind…" she said, and took a deep breath.

"The oozing crest of corruption, The arrogant vessel of madness! Deny the seething urge… stun and flicker… disrupt the sleep!"

Dordonni struggled, realizing something powerful was coming, but the spell would not be shifted, the golden light holding him firmly in place.

"The crawling queen of iron! The eternally self-destructing doll of mud! Unite! Repulse! Fill the earth, and know your own powerlessness! Hadou ninety: Kurohitsugi!"

The moment the black coffin began to form, the golden light shattered, disrupted by the potent magical energies, and Dordonni ran forward, but it was too late. An outstretched arm managed to escape the enveloping black block, but that was it. A second later, it dissipated, gone as if it had never been there at all, and Dordonni sunk to the ground, his body torn and shredded by the top-level hadou. There were no final remarks, no quips, no last amount of defiance. Dordonni was simply dead, collapsed on the ground in a pool of blood. Momo breathed out. That was close, too close- and she had only managed to trap him by playing to his overconfidence. Damn it… at this rate, she'd get a heart attack before any arrancar got to her. Still, as she breathed in and out, she felt a measure of satisfaction. She had won, and she had done so with a mixture of her own strength and traditional magic. There was harmony there. Despite herself, she smiled.

---

Erza had rushed toward one of the strongest power sources, followed by Rangiku, but much to her surprise, the source had flared up loudly long before she even got there. That in itself wasn't too strange, except she had no idea who would have been at that position; it did not match any of her officers. Then- and this was truly surprising- the power had flared up, died down, been replaced by an even stronger force, which in turn swiftly died, dropping down to a level where it was almost impossible to sense. Very briefly, Erza thought she had felt something… different, very different, but it left quickly and Erza was not much of an expert to begin with. So, she had run toward the power source anyway, if only to confirm the death of an espada.

The scene was one of battle, alright. Erza could see a red-haired arrancar with an afro slumped over, quite dead, in the distance. But what really caught her eye was the giant, lying on his back in a growing pool of blood.

"What the hell happened here?" said Rangiku, giving voice to Erza's thoughts.

"A fight," Erza said, realizing how empty the statement was. Cautiously she advanced on the dying arrancar, taking point with Rangiku close behind. He truly was a giant, both in stature and in power- albeit ebbing out, drastically weakened from blood loss and harm, Erza could tell this was no ordinary arrancar.

"What, is this another one of the chaff they sent out?" Rangiku said, frowning, She had drawn her blade, and Erza did the same.
"You know, one of those… those privyon?"

"Privaron," said Erza frowning, "and no, I doubt it. This… this has to be an espada."

"Not close to as strong as the others," Rangiku commented.

"True," Erza said with a nod, "but still terrifyingly strong even right now. It's got to be."

"Well, either way, it's not a threat," Rangiku said with a shrug. "Do we finish him and move on? There's more coming."

"Rangiku," Erza said sharply, "he's helpless and dying."

"And also a monster who'd rip out your throat in a second if he didn't decide to torture you first," Rangiku said matter-of-factly, giving a shrug.

Erza paused. Rangiku wasn't wrong, and she knew very well that the war might get very ugly, that it might take her places where black and white might turn to all imaginable shades of grey. She realized that incapacitation and capture might not always be viable. She realized also that the Gotei would think nothing of the execution of an enemy, even one helpless, that she would be alone in her misgivings. But something inside her stood firm, rock-solid, in the notion that killing the helpless was wrong. Was that a weakness, perhaps? Something to overcome? Something she would be forced to shed as time went on?

She dearly hoped it was not.

"We don't murder," said Erza firmly. "It's the difference between us and them."

Rangiku rolled her eyes. "What, do we nurse him to health and keep him prisoner? Put him on trial just so we can have a piece of paper saying he deserved it when we execute him?"

"If we have to," said Erza firmly. "Well… it's not like we have to save him. But murder? No." she shook her head resolutely.

"Yes, it's definitely more humane to leave him suffering and almost dead," Rangiku said sarcastically. "No, don't answer, commander- I know what you're going to say, and I'm not going to argue. Let's just… get on with it. There's more things to fight, after all."

"Quite," said Erza, "but… I still wonder what did this. It surely could not be a zanpakutou."

"He's cut pretty bad," Rangiku commented.

"No-one in our group was even close when this started," Erza shot back.

"Huh. One of the auxiliaries?" said Rangiku.

"Maybe…" Erza said skeptically, "but I doubt it. A quincy, maybe? But if Uryu has that kind of strength, he's kept it well hidden-"

Their musings were interrupted, very suddenly, and Erza shoved Rangiku to the side just in time as a huge polearm cut through the space they had both occupied a second ago. From the momentary glance Erza got of it, before it was yanked back to its owner by the chain attached to its hilt, it was one of the strangest, most impractical-looking weapons she had ever seen. It looked like two crescent moons had been welded together, then attached to an iron haft.

"Well, fuck me, here I thought I got ya," came a rude voice, lazily drawling out its words with the kind of malefic, overconfident glee Erza had come to expect from every espada.

And an espada he was. There was no mistaking the raw power, nearly as wild and poorly controlled as Grimmjow's once had been, oozing off his tall, lanky frame like slime off of a snail. He was unsettling to look at, even; although Grimmjow had the eye of a psychotic killer, he at least looked human. The approaching espada only had a vaguely humanoid shape to him, his limbs exhibiting a kind of lean gigantism and deformedness that made him look wrong. He was tall; in fact, he would have been at least a head taller than Zaraki Kenpachi. Slick black hair trailed down his head, like oil staining a street. He wore a wide, white eye patch on his left side, and he had an unnaturally wide grin unsettling enough to rival Gin's. His lone eye stared down on them with confident malice.

His legs and arms were long, too long for their body, lean and lanky in a way no normal body ought to be. Strong muscles could be seen where his white clothes did not obscure them. He was a vile thing to look at, more beastly in appearance than most of his kin. He was accompanied by a far more normal-looking arrancar, one-eyed like his master, but his more human appearance only served to highlight the inhumanity of the espada.

"Nice to meetcha," he said, lazily taking a few steps toward the two of them. Erza and Rangiku already stood with their guards up. He hefted his absurd polearm with ease, resting it over his shoulder. "Name's Nnoitra Gilga. Sexta espada. And, well… shit, I don't need to tell you why I'm here."

"You're every bit as repulsive as Grimmjow said you were," Erza said, recalling the captured arrancar's descriptions with distaste. "To think I'd ever find him the more attractive choice, even by comparison…"

"Grimmjow?" Nnoitra said, with a menacing chortle. "He was weak. And from what I hear, he almost went and killed you. Ain't surprisin' for a woman, I guess. Not that I mind it, you know," he said, slowly extending his tongue, licking his lips demonstratively. "I don't care if they're weak or strong. Fight's a fight."

Erza's eyes narrowed. "Rangiku, stay back," she instructed. "I'll take him on."

"Tesla," Nnoitra said with a nod, "finish that trash. Stay the fuck out of my fight. This weak-ass girl… she's all mine."

"Yes, my lord!" said the fraccion, circling around to engage Rangiku. Erza tensed. He didn't seem to know her full strength- but then again, he just might. It might just be a game, to trick her. One could never be sure with some espada. They should never be underestimated.

Nnoitra stepped forward, raising his enormous weapon easily, as if it were like paper in his hand, and grinned even wider. Wordlessly, she called on her blade, her sword turning into two. She felt reassured by their weight. Espada or not, she was a captain. Defeating a monster like him was her job. It was what she was made for.

---

Neliel surged forward, and Grimmjow was hard pressed to even react. His weapon had been confiscated when he first surrendered, and he doubted it would have made much of a difference if he had it, weak as he was. Desperate, he rolled back, evading the first strike, but no sooner had he gotten to his feet than the next strike came at him. With no other options, he caught the blade in his palm, feeling a jab of pain as it cut through his hierro. He held onto the blade regardless, knowing she could end him any time.

"Fucking think, woman!" Grimmjow snarled.

"About what?" Neliel said, lightly pushing the blade forward. Grimmjow winced as it cut deeper into his flesh. "About your betrayal? Your disregard for orders? How you got your own people killed over nothing?"

"You shut the fuck up!" Grimmjow snarled.

Neliel suddenly kicked forward, and Grimmjow's hand was wrenched away as he tumbled back, sent flying like he was some meager hollow. He hated it. He hated how weak he had become. He hated the difference in power. He hated that he could not fight back. He hated, hated, hated the way she looked down on him. If only he had been strong…

She'd still kick your ass, a spitefully rational part of his mind reminded him. It just would have taken longer.

Grimmjow, though, was nothing if not a survivor, and his resentment could not get in the way of that. As he turned his tumble into a controlled roll, getting to his feet only to find Neliel right in front of him, his mind worked in overdrive. Her blade was raised; she'd used a single step of sonido to catch him.

"Wait!" he snarled, lowering his hand. Neliel stayed her hand just briefly.

"For what?"

"Been thinking," Grimmjow spat quickly. "Got time for nothing else down here."

"It must be a novel concept for you," she said coolly.

"Oh, ha ha" Grimmjow snarled irritably. "Yeah, look at stupid Grimmjow, he ain't nothing but a dumb brute who can't do nothing except fight. He's dumb. Well, I don't see anyone else pulling a fast one on Aizen!"

The tip of Neliel's sword found its way to his neck, its razor-sharp edge lightly touching his skin. Grimmjow's heart raced.

"Enough of this," she said. "This ends now."

"As I said, I been thinking," Grimmjow said quickly. "You think I'm dumb, but you don't make it this far without some smarts, damn it!"

"What, then?"

"I can put two and two together," he continued. "I know you're a killer, Neliel, 'cause no-one makes it up the ladder without bein' one. I know you're weak, too; you don't like being what you are. So, being kind," he said, spitting the word out like it were a curse, "and being a killer, you'd have ended me quick if that was what you were here for. But, you ain't. You came in here, sword out, hoping to scare me shitless, but you ain't here to kill me."

Neliel's eyes narrowed, and calmly, she sheathed her blade. Then, lightning-fast, her hand lashed out, grabbing Grimmjow by the neck.

"You're right," she conceded. "What else did you figure out, Grimmjow?"

"You're strong," he croaked. "Holy fuck, you're strong. But, you don't got the guts. You won't even hurt me unless you have to. Means I can be as difficult as I like. A pretty big disadvantage, ain't it?"

He struggled against her grip, his one arm grabbing her by the wrist, trying to wrench it off, but he might as well have tried to shift a mountain.

"I came to take you back to Lord Aizen," she said firmly. "It is for him to mete out punishment, not me."

"Don't you fucking see it?" Grimmjow spat, weakly struggling against her iron-clad grip. "You're being used! Every single fuckin' time, you're being used!"

"Be silent!" Neliel said sharply, and Grimmjow knew he had touched a nerve. Right now he needed time, as much of it as he could get; anything to prolong being dragged back to Aizen.

"Old Barragan, he's a right and total bastard," Grimmjow snarled, writhing like a cat, still to no avail, "but he never pretended it was about anything bigger than himself! You knew where he was! And along comes this bastard of a shinigami and you, you can't wait to believe everything he says! Well, I'll tell you this much, Neliel: soon enough you'll see how he's throwing aside each and every one of you that ain't useful to him, just like Barragan did, just like every king before him did! You'll see! And when you does, you'll realize you're in the shit just as deep as I am, that you can't get off without being killed for it! Fuck, when he has me tortured and executed, why don't you ask yourself if that's the act of a merciful and noble leader, you dumb bitch!"

Neliel said nothing in response, and seeing the furious look on her face, Grimmjow realized he had managed to get to her a little too well. She balled a fist, and an instant later, Grimmjow's head jerked back after a powerful jab. The world was spinning now, and he fought to regain his bearings.

"I'm taking you back," she said, "and if you shut up, I won't hurt you any more than this."

"A-hem."

It was a very polite cough, subtle, just loud enough to be heard, but not so loud as to be intrusive. Neliel spun around, and Grimmjow, slowly beginning to see the world properly, let out a grin. Standing a few yards away was the blond, hat-wearing store manager, leaning on his cane.

"You!" Neliel said urgently, reaching for her blade. "You are- you're Urahara Kisuke! Where… where did you come from?"

"The one and only," said the store owner cheerily. "As for where I came from… well, let's call it a trade secret, shall we?"

Grimmjow's grin became a chortle, suppressed by Neliel's hand on his throat.

"Those smarts I mentioned before?" he hissed gleefully. "One of 'em's called stalling. Have fun with this one, Neliel."

Neliel turned around, and holding on to Grimmjow, she raced off, toward the entrance she had made. However, before she had taken more than a few steps, a sharp rap of the cane to her wrist had made her drop her cargo. Grimmjow fell to the ground, coughing, victorious cheer rising inside him.

"Tut-tut, miss Oderschvank," said Urahara, fanning himself. "Don't you know it's very rude to run away from your host like that? I'm afraid I can't make it that easy on you."

Neliel's gaze fell on Grimmjow. Her eyes sharpened, and her brows furrowed; she appeared to be weighing her options.

"Two seconds to reach the exit," said Urahara, "but with that speed, he'll catch up in one. And then there's my subordinates…"

"H-how?" Neliel stuttered. "I mean-"

"No offense, Miss Oderschvank, but you are not a subtle creature, and this is not a subtle situation. Reading minds can, in the right situation, be very easy. So, with this established, shall we have a little chat?"

Neliel held out her blade at the ready.

Urahara shrugged. "Have it your way, then, Miss Oderschvank."

Slowly, he pulled from his cane a short blade, holding it low.

"It's been a while since I used this," he said, a confident smirk finding its place on his face, "so please, go easy on me."

---

Well now, that sure was a lot of action wasn't it? One of the things im the most proud of in this story is ensuring that any and all plot important characters get a chance to shine and do their stuff. It's something many manga struggle with and very few manage to pull off. I'm really happy with how all the dights turned out, but Rukia and Momo's are ones im the most proud of.

Now I know that some of you may be confused as to how Ulquiorra is doing as well as he is against byakuya and Ichigo given my previous statements on how most bankai can beat a base Espada. This is still true...for the most part. Byakuya's zanpaktou isn't exactly something that works well when his enemy has extra hard defense. His zanpaktou is, more or less, quantity of blades over quality. He just dosnt have the offensive means to do any real damage. Ichigo on the other hand, is only able to land any real damage thanks to his mask. In every other regard, ulqiorra is just better. While the two of them could handle any Adjuchas arrancar in their bankai's in their base form...Vasto Lorde's are a different breed all together. Only the best of soul reapers can fight Vasto Lorde's and hope to have a chance of victory.

Not much else I really want to go over. As ive said earlier though, I really am looking forward to seeing your thoughts to this chapter, so please let me know what you thought of it in a review. It really does mean a lot.