It's been a while since our last update hasn't it? Well have no fear because we return to you all once again with another chapter! I hope that you all enjoy it!

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!

Eleventh Seat Tetsu Ueda wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving a bloody trail across his forehead. He made a face as his arm burned with fresh pain; a gash on his forearm he hadn't noticed until now had just mixed with the salty excretions from his forehead.

But, he had no time to waste on petty distractions. The street he was holding up was near to crumbling. Only two steps to his left, an officer wrenched free a blade from the neck of an arrancar, only to collapse after a few short breaths, exposing a hole the size of a fist in his chest. All around them, there was death, and until seconds ago it had been pure, unrelenting chaos. Tetsu had been assigned here under the leadership of Seventh Seat Akira along with a full battle group, two companies of Fifth Division's fighting men and women. They had not been at the frontlines, but close enough, and the monstrous arrancar had found them soon enough. This last ten minutes had been brutal. He had watched Akira die, and after her Tenth Seat Jouji, making him the senior officer. They had both been good officers, fine women with their lives cut short by these human-shaped monsters.

The battle force had been reduced beneath half strength. Over a hundred men and women lay dead, scattered about the ground. A dozen arrancar lay still on the ground, the white of their uniforms mottled and sullied by blood and dirt. They had stormed the barricades Fifth had set up on the street, smashed right into their lines with reckless abandon, carving and stabbing and slashing in a frenzy. All thoughts of tactics had become moot, and it was only when Akira had ordered them to form up, surround, and attack that the battle had turned from slaughter to hard-earned victory. Now, she lay dead for her troubles.

A dozen of them, Tetsu thought bitterly, for over a hundred of us.

"Fifth, form up!" he bellowed. "Form up on the barricades! Hold the damned line!"

The remainders of the battle group were slow to respond, still in shock from the sheer brutality of the assault, and Tetsu realized he needed to take action. Forcibly grabbing one of his subordinates by the arm, an unseated squad leader by the looks of it, he shouted, "God damn it, get your squad together! That is an order!"

The squad leader looked him in the eyes and whimpered, "They're all dead, sir. All… all gone…"

Tetsu scoffed and let go of the hapless soldier.

"Listen, all of you," he roared. "They're not going to stop coming just because we beat them back once. If they hit us as we are right now, we're dead, so form up!"

Finally, the battle group started to respond. Squad leaders seemed to recognize his authority, the unspoken truth of battlefield promotions kicking in. Tetsu knew he had to do more than that.

"All of you," he said, taking position atop the barricade, "we're Fifth Division, and we're here for a damn good reason. It was us who were deceived by the arch-traitor, and it's up to us to pay him back in blood! Our captain's out there, fighting for us. Now, are you all going to keep crawling around like beaten dogs, or form the hell up and give these hollow bastards hell?"

There was the odd cheer, and somehow, some fighting spirit seemed to return to them.

"I am in command," continued Tetsu, "of this wretched, godforsaken outpost until we get orders to move elsewhere, or we all die. Now, I want the line tightened. Set the barricade up where it was broken. Seventh squad, you're more or less intact- get the wounded aside and set up transports to the field hospital. Anyone without a life-threatening injury, stand up with your blade out. Anyone with a shikai, be ready to use it!"

He stared out into the distance, sensing more of them coming. He shook his head, briefly letting his pessimism shine through. They hadn't been ready. None of them had been. Most of the men here were hollow hunters at most, accustomed only to the average monster. These… monstrosities were overwhelmingly powerful. Morale hung by a thread, and another wave like this… it would kill him.

"Sir, I can see 'em!" Called a thirteenth seat, pointing to the distance. Another five were closing. Tetsu squared his shoulders, and grimaced at the ache in his body. Before this was done, he suspected, most of them would be dead.

Ikkaku was truly in his element. His body and mind were truly one; there was no separation between thought and action. He fought as fluidly and furiously as he ever had, unleashing absolute hell on the arrancar. Poww was on the defense now, the giant pushed back by the unexpected ferocity and power of the third seat. His body was riddled with cuts now, and they weren't shallow, either. Ikkaku's spade and guan dao had bit deep into his flesh several times, and the pristine white of his uniform was dyeing red quickly. Ikkaku knew he was winning as it looked right now. Once, not long ago, he would have relented to give the arrancar a chance to release his full power, to truly test strength against strength. Now, all he wanted was to see Poww dead at his feet, broken, and bloodied. He was not much like himself right now. The normal Ikkaku would be more reckless, overjoyed; the Ikkaku he was now was coldly precise in his fury, like a berserker with a fencer's disposition for finesse and accuracy.

It was because this enemy had to pay. He, and every miserable one of his kind, they all had to die.

Snarling, Poww sent out a furious backhand, accepting the vicious cut he took to his forearm. Ikkaku was sent sprawling back, tumbling some forty yards away. But, Poww's troubles were not over yet. Just as he was rid of Ikkaku, Chad attacked, launching an attack with his whitened fist. There was a sickening crunch as it caught Poww in the ribcage, breaking several bones and toppling over the arrancar. Chad took a defensive stance, his shield-arm raised. Where the seasoned, furious Ikkaku would have followed up, he waited instead.

Poww stood up, looking truly miserable. This was not how he had expected this to go. Humans were not supposed to be this strong, nor were third seats. They weren't supposed to carry around bankai. Every bone in his body ached, and he felt faint from the bleeding. Groaning, he produced a zanpakutou from his expansive sleeve. With some effort, he pulled it free from its sheath.

"Well, good goin', kid," Ikkaku muttered, finally catching up with Chad. "Guess we're about to find out what he's all about."

"So you will," said Poww haughtily. "Breathe, Caldéron!"

The blade dissolved as his reiatsu peaked, and the arrancar's body transformed, expanding monstrously. He swelled up to the size of a house- several houses, in fact- towering over them like a true giant. His body looked like an oval balloon. Smaller, stumpy legs held him in balance. His belly was oddly shaped, straight lines running from chin to tail. His head was comically small compared to the rest of his body.

"Well, would you look at that," Ikkaku said mirthlessly.

"It is… immense," said Chad.

"Yeah, well," said Ikkaku, shifting his weapons in their grip, "what is it they say? The bigger they are, the harder they fall."

"I wonder if he would even feel us attacking," said Chad.

"Here's the thing," replied Ikkaku, "my bankai just woke up properly."

The dragon relief on the blade behind Ikkaku was glowing bright red, and Chad could sense its power even now. He nodded.

"He will not be able to move so quickly in that form," he remarked, as Ikkaku took his first step forward. "We should use that to our advantage."

"You do that, kid," said Ikkaku, and broke into a run. He charged the released arrancar with single-minded determination, Chad following closely behind. However, as he came in closer, Poww raised a single stubby leg and brought it down. The ground shattered where he slammed it down, and rippled like water, throwing both men off their feet. A spray of dust, concrete, asphalt, and dirt was kicked up, and for a second the ground seemed as if it were at the epicentre of an earthquake.

"You are finished, both of you," Poww said confidently. "In this form, the true power of my punches is released. Simple-minded brutes like you will not even come close to me."

Ikkaku righted himself, getting to his feet and wiping the dust out of his eyes.

"Well, I'll be fucked," he snarled, staring hatefully at the enormous arrancar. "Playing dirty, are we?"

"Mister Ikkaku," said Chad urgently, "we need to stop and think for a second. He has to have some weakness, but we can't just run right in."

"Sure we can," said Ikkaku, raising his weapons on high, pointing the spade at the arrancar. "You hear that, you bastard? I'm still coming for your head!"

"He'll just keep us away with his feet," protested Chad.

"So what if it's not going to be easy?" sneered Ikkaku. "Like I said, kid, you can tag along- but I'm not waiting on you."

Chad watched with frustration as Ikkaku rushed forward, deftly jumping over the newly formed rubble. Poww raised his leg again, and before Chad could react, there was another storm of debris, and he was once again knocked off his legs. He was not one to complain, but he wished he had another partner. If only Ichigo were here…

In lockstep, they marched forward. The captain and the substitute, the nobleman and the half-breed, the veteran and the new blood, unified in their purpose. Their past disagreements were forgotten. All that mattered now was the fight.

There was chaos all around them, of course. The street they were approaching was near to being overrun by devilish arrancar, laughing as they cut through weaker shinigami. The sight would have offended both of them mortally under normal circumstances, but now it seemed somehow less important. They walked forward at a normal pace, their eyes fixed at the sky.

"I knew it," said Ichigo. "I knew he'd be here."

"Indeed," Byakuya affirmed, "your intuition was correct, Kurosaki Ichigo. It seems he has some measure of pride after all."

There in the sky, looking down on them from some fifty yards up, stood Ulquiorra Cifer. He had his blade out, kept low, but made no move to attack.

"It looks like he's waiting for us to come to him," said Ichigo, "and I don't know about you, but I'm not going to disappoint him."

Byakuya nodded.

"We will hold nothing back from the start," said the nobleman dispassionately. "There is no point in drawing out this battle."

"Yeah," said Ichigo, holding his blade up. Both of their reiatsu flared up, and as one they declared,

"Bankai!"

Ichigo's black coat flapped in the wind, his long blade held upright. Behind them, two huge rows of blades rose, then scattered into innumerable pink, lethal petals.

"I did say nothing held back," said the nobleman. "There is more you can do, is there not?"

"…Yeah," said Ichigo, surprised that the shinigami captain would bring it up. He had expected him to have some reservations about it. Were a hollow's powers not anathema to a shinigami still?

"I am past the point of caring," said Byakuya, as if reading his mind. "All that matters now is that we defeat him. I must do so, to redeem myself and regain my honour. You must do so, to protect your home. So, hold nothing at all back, Kurosaki Ichigo. Whatever the cost, he must die."

"Damn right," said Ichigo, "but I'll make that call. I swear on my life, I'm not holding back- but I can't waste a second of use for it. Do you trust me?"

Byakuya gave him a careful look, and after a slight pause, he said, "…I do. Very well, then."

"Then let's go."

"Momentarily," said Byakuya. He raised a hand, and flicked it forward. At his command, the petals surged across the battlefield, slaughtering a dozen of the lesser arrancar in an instant, eradicating the attack wave. Ichigo gave him a look.

"Going soft?"

"I am still a leader," said Byakuya, "and I cannot just watch my soldiers be killed and do nothing. No- this is no time to bicker or banter. Go. I'll cover you just as we discussed."

Ichigo nodded enthusiastically. As one, they jumped, surging up into the sky. Ichigo took the lead, and the massive cloud of pink enveloped them both. They spared no words for Ulquiorra Cifer; the moment they closed the distance, the battle was on. Ulquiorra charged into the cloud, heedless of the blades clawing at him, but soon found himself outfought. Ichigo swung his blade in wide, powerful arcs, and the espada soon found himself barely able to keep up. His vision was blurred, and he had to constantly stay on the move lest the sharp blades find their mark and carve out his eyes. He evaded a furious Getsuga, only to be struck the next moment by a cloud of blue fire, sending him reeling. Ichigo immediately took the opportunity to attack, thrusting his blade into the espada's chest and narrowly missing his heart. The espada tried to counter-attack, but his blade was turned aside by a swarm of pink. Ulquiorra raised a finger to point at Ichigo, forming a cero, but the young warriors saw it in time and grabbed him by the wrist, twisting it out of the way. He stared into the cold, lifeless eyes of his enemy.

"You know," he said coolly, "I think I'm starting to figure you out, Ulquiorra Cifer. At least, your fighting style. You're not perfect yet, for all your practice."

Sneering at him, the espada tried to bring his blade to bear again, only to be turned away yet again by pink blades. Furiously, Ulquiorra kneed Ichigo in the gut, and wrenched his arm free. With a shove he forced the substitute back, then retreated a few paces, away from the deadly cloud of pink. Byakuya hung back some thirty yards, supporting Ichigo from afar, and at this range his control seemed limited.

Ulquiorra's jacket started to dye red with blood, although not by much; his regenerative capacity seemed to have kicked in already. Ichigo, deciding not to leave him any more time to recover, quickly closed the distance. Ulquiorra dashed far back, away from Byakuya's range. The captain gave pursuit, but the pink cloud moving with him could do little more than keep up.

"What's wrong, huh?" Ichigo taunted, hammering the espada with blows. "Where's that arrogance you showed before, you pale bastard?"

Ulquiorra did not respond, firing off a quick set of bala. However, before he could take advantage of the opening, a golden chain wrapped around his legs, pinning him. Ichigo raised his blade, knowing it had to be Byakuya's excellent spellcasting at play. Ulquiorra parried, but without the use of his legs, he could not move back. The chains were already straining as the espada fought to break free, but it bought Ichigo precious moments to hammer his opponent with rapid, vicious blows.

Finally the chains broke, and Ichigo cursed. The espada's guard was too good to break easily, and Ulquiorra took a few steps back.

"Enough," said Byakuya. "We need to change strategies. He will keep on retreating, and one to one, you are still no match for him."

"Then let's change it up," said Ichigo.

"Senkei," said Byakuya, and around them, the dome of blades formed. They both surged forward as it completed, and Ulquiorra found himself having to parry hundreds of sword strokes delivered within seconds. His hierro absorbed most of it, but he was on the defensive entirely, just about keeping up. Byakuya came in with a powerful overhead swing, and as the espada parried it, the captain aimed a palm at his knee.

"Shou!" he cried, and the simple spell disturbed Ulquiorra's balance for a moment. The next second, Ichigo came at him with a stab from behind. Ulquiorra twisted out of the way, the blade raking across his side and drawing blood. However, with pinpoint accuracy, Byakuya stabbed into the espada's chest wound. The blade sunk in, just an inch, but it was all he needed.

"Tsuzuri Raiden!" cried Byakuya, and Ulquiorra twitched as an electrical current ran through his body. Before he could recover, Ichigo's blade emerged through the front of his chest, the young substitute having come in from behind.

Ulquiorra did not lose his composure, though, and lashed out with his blade at Byakuya, forcing the captain to leap back. Ichigo pulled his blade free, twisting it as he did so, and took a step back.

Ulquiorra was breathing heavily, bleeding copiously now.

"Damn you both," he said, his tone still level, still dispassionate. "It is time you both died. You have long since overstayed your welcome, shinigami."

"Sore that we learned from before?" said Ichigo.

Ulquiorra's grip on his blade tightened. "Enclose," he said, "Murcielago!"

As he transformed, Ichigo and Byakuya both steeled themselves. The real battle had just begun.

Third division were holding the line, if only barely. Edrad watched the hordes of arrancar throw themselves at the defensive line recklessly. Where they went, shinigami died by the dozen, but soon enough they died in turn. It was pitiful, he reflected; if they co-operated like the shinigami did, what chance would the reapers have? He watched the body of an arrancar tumble to the ground, writhing in its death throes as a kidou flame ate away at its body. With a single, decisive step forward, Edrad brought down his boot on the dying arrancar's skull, crushing it instantly and ending its suffering.

This was the grand vision his new master Fernandes believed in? Chaotically throwing oneself at the enemy like a blunt instrument, expiring after causing as much damage as possible? He shook his head in revulsion. He was grateful to have a strong leader to serve, but he couldn't help but question his judgment. Aizen Sousuke clearly cared little for the lives of his soldiers. At the same time, he could not help but admire the shinigami before them. Despite horrendous casualties, despite their soldiers dying by the dozen, they held firm in the face of overwhelming brutality. Despite their weakness, they were prevailing. Such spirit was admirable in itself. It was a shame he had to crush it.

There was one officer who directed the effort with competency, barking commands and cutting down arrancar with relative ease. His blade was strangely shaped, like a hook except with sharp, straight edges rather than a curve. Three had already been slain while Edrad approached, and each time, they seemed to slow in their swings, as if they could not lift their blades. He had taken their heads, one by one.

Judging by his reiatsu, this was one of the shinigami elite, just beneath the captains. A vice-captain. That was it, then. Edrad would crush him, and with that, the line would crumble.

"HALT!" he bellowed, loudly and aggressively. The next wave of arrancar, already moving in, slowed in their advance. They sensed Edrad's superior strength, and by their hollow's instinct, they knew to respect it. They had no discipline, but they still knew pecking order. It was just as Edrad wanted it. He stepped forward a few paces more, drawing his blade and pointing it at the street barricade.

"I am Edrad Leones," he rumbled, "servant to Jellal Fernandes, septimo espada."

There was a long pause. The shinigami looked surprised to see the assault relent so suddenly, looking anxiously to their leader. Finally, the vice-captain spoke up.

"I am Vice-captain Kira Izuru, of Third Division. What is the meaning of this?"

"As you see," said Edrad, "my kin will not attack, not until I permit it. Let this be decided one on one. Let our people live a little longer. Face me man to man, and I will spare your men."

"I don't expect you're giving me much choice?" said the vice-captain resignedly. He was sizing up Edrad, assessing the threat he posed with calm, focus, and care. A level-headed fighter, Edrad figured. Those could be quite dangerous.

"If you refuse, then I will charge your line, break through it, and slaughter anyone who opposes us," boasted Edrad, "but if you will face me and me alone, there will be a respite. For as long as we fight, at least."

Kira appeared to weigh this for a moment, then nodded, and jumped over the barricades. An officer- his second, Edrad assumed- protested, but Kira waved him off.

"Any time I can buy is worth it," said the vice-captain firmly. "If the assault stops for a minute or two, we'll have time to call in reinforcements. Get a runner on it, now."

That, Edrad realized, was the best move he could have made. This line held up one of the flanks of the shinigami perimeter, and if it crumbled, so might their entire defense. The smarter thing for Edrad might be to go back on his word and attack with all they had, right now. But… but all the same, he didn't want to. There was something in him from both his masters, former and current. Grimmjow had taught him to appreciate proving himself in combat. And, Jellal… naive though he might be in some respects, Edrad had come to understand the importance of trust, maybe even honour.

Besides, he wanted to know if he could beat the vice-captain.

He took another step forward, towering over the shinigami. He would have reach and probably raw power over the shinigami, but nothing was ever easy when fighting the shinigami's best. He lashed out with a powerful overhead strike, just testing the waters. The vice-captain parried, reeling from the hit. Edrad's blade slid off, but he pushed the attack, raining down heavy blows on the shinigami. Kira parried each strike, always just barely in time to counter a fatal blow. After a good few strokes of failing to break the shinigami's defenses, Edrad took a few steps back, breathing heavily. His blade felt heavy in his hands.

"Twelve strikes," said Kira levelly, his voice coldly neutral.

"You counted?" said Edrad bemusedly. He was impressed by the vice-captain's martial skill so far, although he was loath to say it.

"I did," said Kira with a nod, "because it matters."

"It matters?"

"Try lifting your blade, Edrad Leones," said Kira.

Edrad did so, and found it overwhelmingly heavy. He rested it on his shoulder, and he felt it strain against his bones.

"Everything my Wabisuke cuts," explained the shinigami, "will double in weight. If your blade weighed five pounds, it would have weighed ten after the first strike, then twenty, then forty, then eighty…"

Edrad's eyes widened. So that was the effect he had witnessed before- not just superior swordsmanship, but a powerful shikai ability. He grit his teeth in anger.

"What's wrong?" said Kira.

"Why, you little-"

The vice-captain lunged, blade raised, and Edrad had to fight the reflex to parry. Keeping his sword rested against his shoulder, he raised his forearm, trusting his hierro to protect him. The zanpakutou clashed with his flesh, drawing blood but failing to cut deep. Kira took a step back, nodding appreciatively.

"Quick thinking, but hardly a winning strategy."

"Indeed," said Edrad, his eyes narrowing, "it is no wonder you could not be bested one to one, when you had such an ability. Not much of a fight, is it?"

"Spare me," Kira scoffed. "Don't tell me an arrancar is going to lecture me on fairness."

Edrad chuckled. "I guess you're right. Fair doesn't have much to do with how life turns out, does it?"

"Indeed," said Kira. The officer lunged at Edrad, who found himself hard pressed; without the use of his blade, he could do little more than dodge. He took another couple strikes on his forearm, each one drawing blood. Grunting, Edrad took a couple step backs as Kira paused to assess the situation, blade still raised.

"As I thought," said Edrad, shaking his arm lightly, "your ability affects my arm too, even if it doesn't catch all of me at once. That's fearsome."

"You're brighter than I expected," said Kira sharply. "I'll take your head all the same. Without your blade, you cannot win."

"You forget," said Edrad, "I am an arrancar. I do not need to fight with a blade to win."

He held up his blade in one hand with great effort, struggling to even lift it, and called, "Awaken, Volcanica!"

The shockwave of power overcame Edrad, and he felt almost ecstatic. To release the beast within, to be his true self… it had been too long.

Kira reeled. There was not just dust kicked up, but smoke. The arrancar had changed radically. His already bulky form now looked even larger, with great, bony protrusions extending from his shoulders. He had stood tall before; now he was a literal giant, standing more than twice as tall as Kira. His arms, bone-white, had become almost comically massive, large even in proportion to his massive form. Smoke trailed from the protrusions at his shoulders. Kira did not show it, did not allow it to show, but he felt intimidated. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that nobody was invincible. The bigger they were, the harder they fell.

"One to one, right?" he said, taking a few steps further out into the street. Edrad turned to face him, and the lesser arrancar shied away even further, clearing out of the immediate vicinity. Little spurts of flame burst from his shoulders. He was eager now, ready to let loose.

"One to one," Edrad reiterated, balling his fists. Just as he had hoped, the spell cast by the shinigami's shikai had been lifted, contained to his blade. But, he knew, it could be remade. With surprising speed, the vice-captain charged, and Edrad knew that if he was caught in a series of quick strikes, his massive size would soon start to work against him. With a thundering roar, he slammed a fist down into the street. The asphalt cracked under the blow, the earth shook as if by an earthquake, and Kira lost his footing. This would have to be decided quickly, Edrad knew, for either one of them.

He looked like something savage. The primero was an unknown quality to the Gotei, because even the deserter Grimmjow had known nothing about him except that his strength was legendary. As Kyouraku and Ukitake stared him down, the battle raging all around them, they started to realize why.

Outwardly, he did not look that impressive. He cut a handsome figure. He could have been called elegant, if not for the look of tired resignation in his body language. His uniform was nothing out of the ordinary, except for a cloak lined with fur. Only a set of bone fragments shaped like canine teeth beneath his neck spoke of his nature as a hollow. Most arrancar they had seen had never looked quite human, all of them possessing some feature just a little too exaggerated or unusual, but he was an exception to the rule. Well-proportioned and restrained, he looked more human than any of the monstrous creatures they had seen. By his side stood what looked like a small child, although Kyouraku could tell something was unusual. Their reiatsu felt nearly identical, for one.

"You know," said Kyouraku in a jovial, friendly tone, "I get the sense that you're not all that invested in this fight. I sense no murderous intent from you at all."

The primero stared at them for some time, before responding. "You're not wrong."

"No murderous intent, Kyouraku?" Ukitake muttered. "Can't you sense it, too?"

Kyouraku knew what he meant. There was an absurd, shocking force lurking beneath the surface, monstrous in nature and far surpassing anything else they could sense on this battlefield in strength.

"He's hiding it pretty well," said Kyouraku. "What you can feel isn't killing intent. This is just you at rest, isn't it?"

The espada gave them a long look, before finally speaking.

"It's true as you say," he said slowly, "that I have no personal stake in this conflict. I'd rather not raise my blade at all. I spent a lifetime doing battle. I have seen enough of it."

"But?" said Kyouraku.

"But I owe Aizen a debt," said the primero. "I will not bother to explain it. It does not matter. All that matters is that I must fight, whether I like it or not."

"It's a shame," said Kyouraku, and slid off his pink jacket, letting it drop toward the ground. The he reached for his blades, pulling them out in a smooth motion, Ukitake following his lead.

"If that's just him at rest," said Ukitake warily, "I'd hate to see what he's like when he's made his mind up to kill us."

"Lilinette," said the espada, "go hide somewhere else for now."

"But Starrk-" protested the childlike arrancar.

"Now," he insisted. Sighing, the smaller arrancar scurried away. Starrk pulled his blade from its sheath, and Kyouraku found himself hoping the arrancar was not as terrifying as he seemed.

"You know," he started, "we don't really have to do this. We could just have some saké-"

The next instant, the espada was upon him, and only instinct and muscle memory saved Kyouraku from losing his head, catching the blade inches from his neck in a parry.

"Yes," said the espada, "I do have to do this."

"Stop messing around!" Ukitake called, lashing out with his blade. The espada evaded easily, taking a step back.

"I'm not messing around," muttered Kyouraku. "But we've got to find out what this guy can do, haven't we?"

"We need to go all out," Ukitake urged, "finish him before he can do the same to us."

"Finish that?" Kyouraku said, shaking his head. "No, that won't happen. I'll try to press him from the front. My swordplay should be good enough to keep up. You, try to find an opening in his guard. Take it easy until we find a way in."

Ukitake gave him a sharp look, but when he saw the serious look on Kyouraku's face, he nodded.

"I'm with you."

The primero made no sudden moves. Unlike so many of his kin, he seemed to possess not just power, but restraint. That, Kyouraku guessed, was why he was number one.

Kenpachi had walked into battle, completely without the normal zest he usually felt. It was such a bizarre feeling- normally, this would be perfect. His boys all around him, getting stuck in like blood-mad berserkers, making him proud in the middle of the greatest battle the Gotei had ever seen. A war with more strong opponents than he could ever have asked for. Carnage, battle, a free rein to rip and tear. Yet, his enthusiasm was dulled. He had slain a few arrancar wading into battle, but it was offhanded, half-hearted. Ever since he had woken up in the sickbed, dried blood staining what was left of his clothes, he had felt a strange melancholy. He had entered a battle he could not win to put him in that state, and it had brought him no joy. To just be pummelled, to be somebody's punching bag: that was not fighting. So it was that Kenpachi walked into the greatest battle he had ever taken part in feeling strangely detached, almost distracted.

He lashed out, again and again, but even though arrancar fell left and right, even though his soldiers cheered his name to the skies, he did not feel half the excitement he should. He had even removed his eye patch without thinking about it, even though it made every encounter he'd had so far even more one-sided. Standing in the street with his men, he did little more than hold the line, waiting for something worthwhile to come to him. What was wrong with him?

Neliel watched the captain from afar, staring him down. She stood in the sky, hand on her blade. Where the Kenpachi wrestled with apathy, she wrestled with shame. She had failed to kill that monster. Lord Aizen had scolded her. She had let him down, had let herself be distracted. She had to make it right. That's why she had held back, looking for him and only him. Slowly she descended to ground level, drawing her blade.

Kenpachi looked up. He should have felt excited. He had been beaten before, hadn't he? That Scarlet woman had done a number on him, and all it had meant was that he wanted another go, win or lose. It wasn't something stupid, like the wounded pride of losing to a woman- no, he had lost, and that was fair. But, it wasn't fun. If fighting wasn't fun, then what was the point of anything?

"Oh," he said, resting his blade on his shoulder. "It's you, huh?"

"We have a score to settle," she said firmly.

"You know what?" Kenpachi growled, with sudden, new-found purpose. "We do. I don't know what the hell you did, but you fucked my head up. Maybe killin' ya will solve it."

Anger welled up inside him. Well, it was better than lethargy. Snarling, he charged with a strong overhead strike, fast and hard. The espada parried, his great blade sliding off hers as she angled it down, and in a single smooth motion she cut through his guard as his blade deflected off hers. It cut into his side, but Kenpachi barely registered the pain as he lashed out, his counter-attack having begun before she had finished her strike. She bent under a blow that would have severed her head, and Kenpachi launched into a furious series of strikes, raining blow after blow on her. His strikes were wild and uncontrolled, even for him, but they put her on the defensive.

She was being overwhelmed. His technique was completely non-existent; he was hacking at her like his blade was some kind of blunt instrument, but he did so quickly and hard. In terms of raw power, she could not compete, not like this. Neliel took a quick step of sonido and moved behind him. She stabbed at him, but he was already twisting around, like a wild animal acting on instinct. Her blade bit into his side, sliding halfway in before he retaliated. He didn't even react to the wound she had given him, and she had to wrench her blade free in a hurry to parry. She was not quite in time, and a glancing blow caught her across the face, splitting her cheek open and raking over her knuckles as she tried to parry. She took another quick step back, a sonido taking her twenty paces back, only to realize she was holding on to her blade with only two fingers; three of them had been severed. She took a couple sharp, short breaths, forcing herself calm. The pain would come soon, she knew. Adrenaline only lasted so long. How long would it be before this berserker scored the hit he needed?

"Declare," she hissed through the pain of her fractured jaw, "Gam-"

He was already upon her, screaming wordlessly. Cursing under her breath, Neliel ran back. His blade came down in the space she had been a moment ago. Realizing she needed more space to even finish her declaration, she landed on a rooftop, her head spinning.

Kenpachi swore loudly as the espada disappeared from right under his nose. Where she stood now, a level higher, he would not have reached her in time. Had he known anything about shunpo, he could have given chase- but he had never bothered with it. He had never needed it until now. Hell, normally he would have welcomed this. He watched the flash of her transformation, briefly felt the surge of power, and his eyes narrowed. Without thinking, he took his blade in both hands.

Something had changed, alright. He didn't want to fight her. He wanted to beat her.

Neliel landed gracefully on the street, raising her lance, breaking into a gallop. Kenpachi held his ground, blade in both hands, staring her down with a stubborn, angry look on his face. She upped her speed, aiming the tip of the lance at his heart. This time, she wouldn't mess up. This time, she'd kill him for Lord Aizen.

Time seemed to slow. He was fighting for his life, he knew that. Usually that didn't matter, but now, somehow it did. Was this how everyone else felt?

He would have to time it perfectly. He had been hit by her before, and she was very, very fast, but it wouldn't be impossible. His eyes narrowed, and he waited with atypical patience for the few seconds he had left.

On she came, her hooves thundering across the street, and as her lance came in, Kenpachi angled his blade and caught it head on, redirecting the blow. There was no time to counterattack, though; although he had managed to redirect the blow, the full force of her body slammed into him the same moment. He was knocked to the ground, sharp hooves trampling him. His head spinning, he struggled to get to his feet, only to be struck by a powerful kick from her hind legs. He was thrown far, slamming into a wall some forty yards away. It broke under the impact, and he struggled to breathe as he stood up once more, the air knocked out of his lungs. He was fairly sure he had busted a rib or two. But, he realized, he did not have a hole in his chest this time. He grit his teeth, and stumbled forward. This wasn't over at all.

Ikkaku was like a whirlwind. He was distantly aware that he had broken ribs and probably some internal injury, but he barely even noticed it. Pure anger and adrenaline fueled him, as he worked his two weapons with remarkable speed, considering their unwieldy size. Poww matched his fury surprisingly well; although he could not hope to match Ikkaku's speed, the arrancar was just too large to be overtaken easily. Ikkaku was tearing great chunks out of his arms and his gut, covering him in sprays of gore each time, but although the pounds of flesh he claimed were severe and brutal, he was tiring. He fought more slowly than before, and it was only the full power of his bankai that kept him going. That, and an absolute desire to see the arrancar and all his kind die.

Ikkaku dodged another set of bala which pounded the street and sent up sprays of concrete where they struck. A cero followed it, and Ikkaku leaped out of the way, using a flying chunk of rock as a stepping stone to launch another attack.

Die die die die die!

There was no complexity left in Ikkaku. He fought only with the technique his muscle memory kept, all sense of strategy gone. He was putting his back into killing this arrancar, here and now, now or never.

Unfortunately, 'never' was the destined time. As Ikkaku reeled back from a thunderous stomp that nearly knocked him off his feet, a gigantic foot came down on him. He managed to avoid being stepped on, but before he could recover, a bone-shattering backhand caught him. There was a brief flash of pain as the air was knocked out of his lungs, and another set of fractures added to his battered, bruised body, and Ikkaku was thrown far back. He slammed back-first into a wall, and staggered to his feet. He felt his grip on his weapons loosen.

"You… son of a…" he wheezed, barely able to breathe. He tried to take a step forward, but the world was fading away, into darkness.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he do anything right? Why couldn't he kill this damned arrancar? Mercifully, unconsciousness stole these doubts from Ikkaku as he slid into oblivion.

Chad watched the shinigami fall from afar. He had wanted to co-ordinate, but the third seat had not been forthcoming in any way, shape, or form. Chad was not the cursing kind, but watching the battle unfold had been… frustrating. Ikkaku was powerful, but his way of throwing himself at his enemy over and over, no matter the injury he took, was not a winning strategy. Not against an opponent who could take this kind of punishment.

Poww looked down on the shinigami. His belly ached, naked flesh exposed in several places where that accursed bankai had bit deep. No matter. He was finished now. Well… no, not quite. His eyes narrowing, Poww stomped over toward where the shinigami had fallen. There was life in the little bastard yet. Nothing he couldn't remedy quickly.

Chad took a deep breath as the arrancar moved toward Ikkaku. There was an opening there, but… it would mean great danger, and he couldn't be sure it would even work. But, unless he wanted to cower and watch his comrade-in-arms die, there was no choice.

Poww stomped forward, slowly and inelegantly. He was breathing heavily, grunting with pain. The cuts he had taken hurt more than he had expected. The shinigami was a fool, but he certainly knew how to throw a punch. Waddling up to him, Poww decided to do it up close and personal. No cero; nothing so meagre. He would crush the shinigami personally, feel his skull turn to pulp under the weight of his feet. Gritting his teeth, he raised a gigantic foot, and-

"La Muerte!"

For a moment, Poww felt shock, and then a fresh wave of pain. As he looked down, there was a shower of blood and guts spilling over the street.

Chad was breathing heavily. He had slipped in from the side, readying his Brazo Izquierda del Diablo, and he had been able to slip in beneath the arrancar's massive legs. Aiming for the biggest gut wound Ikkaku had delivered, he had struck with all his might. It worked beyond his wildest expectations. Stepping back, covered in blood from head to toe, he could see that the crack in the giant's armour had been significant enough, and the sheer force of Chad's punch had split his gut open. The monster convulsed, letting out gargled cries of pain as its entrails spilled out onto the street. Thrashing and twitching, it levelled the buildings near it. Chad quickly stepped back, grabbing Ikkaku and dragging him away.

"Thank you, Mister Madarame," he murmured under his breath. "I could never have done that without you."

There had been some team effort, albeit incidental.

Momo's breathing came in sharp, short bursts, panting as she ran for her life. She had held her own well enough, until the three fracciones, having learned from their last battle, decided that there was no reason to hold back. They had each released their zanpakutou at once, and what had ensued was a lightning-fast dance with death as Momo ran, dodged, evaded, ducked, blocked, and at one point teleported herself a short distance.

But, after a few minutes of pure fight-or-flight, where her reptile brain was almost fully in charge, it started to dawn on Momo that although she was constantly on the backfoot, she hadn't yet been hit. Aside from the odd glancing blow, a cut here or a scrape there, she was quite intact. Although it all rested on a knife's edge, she was actually keeping up. She even found an opening here or there to launch a counter-attack, although it had not done much so far.

Each of the three arrancar was terrifying in their own way, visually distinct yet equally lethal. Apache seemed the most like herself; the only visible changes were a thick coat of brown fur covering most of her body and two elegant antler horns protruding from the skull fragment on her head. Mila Rose, for her part, looked like a lesser version of her mistress; dark-skinned and wild, the bony protrusions of her resurreccion covered only the barest minimums of decency. Her mane of hair was long and thick, and she held a blade in her hand. The most warped of them wall was Sun-Sun, whose lower body had turned serpentine entirely, leaving her with a long, sleek body with surprising bulk. Each one would have been very, very dangerous to face alone. All together, they left Momo with little chance but to retreat, over and over. But, her retreat wasn't aimless.

"Stand still, you dumb bitch!" Apache snarled, surging forward and launching a spinning kick at Momo, who blocked it in the nick of time with her Tobiume. Apache seemed to be the quickest of them, leading every attack sequence with a quick dash. Momo knew what would come next. Thrusting her palm at Apache, she cried "Sho!" Before she had even completed the spell, she brought up her sword hand, a blast of heat already charging through her shikai. As Apache was thrust back, Mila Rose came in with a furious overhead swing. Momo met it directly, blade clashing against blade. Rose held hers in both hands, and Momo felt the heat of the blast she was building up sear against her skin. But, at the same time, the arrancar didn't dare to push her too hard, because she knew perfectly well what would happen if the blast exploded in her face.

"Crazy bitch," Rose muttered, gritting her teeth as she pushed back against Momo. "You going to blow us both up?"

"If I have to," Momo said resolutely. She was bluffing; she absolutely had no intention to die here, but the arrancar didn't know she wasn't that desperate… yet.

As suddenly as she had come in, Mila Rose dashed back, and just as she did, Momo flung the fireball away- not towards Mila Rose, but beneath her, toward her nine o'clock. Sun-Sun weaved out of the way at the last second, buying Momo an absolutely vital blink of an eye to react. With her best shunpo, she skipped back, narrowly avoiding a serpent's strike. It had been perfectly timed, and if Momo hadn't figured out the pattern already, she would have been toast. Working in unison, the three fracciones were an order of magnitude more lethal than they would be on their own. They were staring her down, assuming formation together again; Apache at the front, Mila Rose just behind, and Sun-Sun just a little further back.

Momo was breathing heavily, thick beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She was starting to tire. But, as she stood there panting in the sky over Karakura, she started to smile.

"What's so funny, bitch?" Apache snapped, balling her fists. "You're almost out of juice already. You're going to die any minute. So, what the hell are you laughing about?"

"Oh, don't worry," said Momo. "You're about to find out."

"She's gone mad," Mila Rose scoffed dismissively. "Let's finish this, girls."

"Wait…" said Sun-Sun, furrowing her brows. "Something isn't right. She's a kido… specialist…"

As she trailed off, the air around them came aglow. Around the three arrancar twenty seals in arcane, gilded scripture appeared, forming a sphere of energy. It crackled with energy, little bursts of golden lightning bursting from each one.

"You were so sure," said Momo triumphantly, "so very sure that you had me on the run. I guess you couldn't have anticipated that I deliberately placed kido seals I put on my skin into the air around you. And, you definitely didn't expect me to try to herd you to be in the same place, either."

"You bitch!" Apache snarled, glancing around her uncertainly. "I'll kill you. I swear, I'll rip your guts out, you skinny, little pencil-pusher bitch!"

Momo focused, the runes on her body glowing just as the ones surrounding the three fracciones did. "Chronometron devastator!" she cried, and at her command, the seals around her three enemies discharged in an instant. Momo closed her eyes, averted her head, and shielded herself with her arm, but the flash of light still burned bright enough to nearly blind her. That, she knew, was enough power to level a city, concentrated in the space of maybe forty cubic feet. It was her ace in the hole, burning through nearly all the spells she had stored on her skin as pre-prepared, fully powered spells. She opened her eyes, seeing stars for a few seconds; the flash of light had been powerful, indeed. She blinked a few times, and eventually, her vision returned to her.

The cautious hope she had let rise in her chest was quashed in an instant. That had been enough power to level a city, and it still hadn't been enough. All three of the arrancar were reeling, sure, injured and charred, with great burn marks on their bodies, but they were all alive, all remaining in the forms of their released zanpakutou.

"God… damn it…" Apache said, coughing, wobbly on her legs.

"I don't know about you," Sun-Sun said weakly, "but we need to stop… we need to put this into overdrive. I can't take another hit like that."

"She doesn't have another hit like that in her," sneered Mila Rose. She was unsteady on her legs, too, and her left arm hung limp. Momo tried assessing the situation. All three of them were considerably weakened now- but so was she. Things seemed no worse or better than before.

"We gotta do it," said Apache.

"You serious?" said Mila Rose. "I don't fancy growing a new arm. That takes forever."

"We can't let Halibel down," said Sun-Sun plainly. "I can't face her after failing again. Can you?"

"…No," said Rose, shaking her head. "Fuck it. This arm's not doing me any good right now, anyway."

Momo took a few steps back, uncertain. What were they going to throw at her?

Things are now finally starting to move forward, and I promise you that more epic battles are to come and resolve as the storiy continues. Im especially hyped for the next chapter. I do hope that you all really enjoyed this chapter though and I eagerly wait to see what you all thought about it.