When Raphael emerged from the haze, he was standing in what looked like a room carved in stone.

The entire area was colored in nothing but black or white, leaving the turtle to stand out like a sore thumb. He became aware of several pairs of eyes staring at him from the shadows, and he was able to turn enough to see someone with bright blue hair and matching eyes stare dispassionately at him. Before Raphael could open his mouth to speak, Ichimaru pulled at him sharply, forcing him to fly to the floor in the center of the room. He resisted the urge to growl as he picked up the sound of at least one voice laughing in the darkness.

"Now Gin, that was thoroughly inappropriate," said a quiet yet authoritative voice in front of Raphael. "He is, after all, a guest. And a rather famous one, at that. We wouldn't want to make him angry, would we?"

Raphael scrambled to his feet and looked up. Sitting in a simple and yet oddly grand chair atop of a short dais, he saw someone clad in the same sort of pseudo-shinigami clothes as Ichimaru. His thick brown hair was impeccable save for a strand that he allowed to fall over his eye. Judging by his innate hatred towards him, Raphael managed to work out that this must have been Aizen.

"My apologies," Ichimaru replied in a voice that didn't sound the least bit apologetic. "You see, he threatened to stab me in the back the first chance he got, so I thought it best to make sure he stays in front of me. Just a little over eager, as always."

"Where's my family?" Raphael asked Aizen, determined to get them out of the way first.

Aizen stared down at him with some amusement in his dark eyes. Finally, he said, "My, you're rather straightforward, boy. You leave no room for pleasantries. Would you care for a cup of tea, or would you like me to tell you right off the bat that your family is safe in the real world?"

"I already knew that," Raphael admitted. "Didn't think ya had any reason to go after all of 'em 'n hand Leo back in exchange. We had some stupid enemies before, but I heard enough about ya to know ya ain't stupid."

"Should I view that as a compliment?" Aizen queried, still amused.

"If ya do, at least pretend to be insulted," the turtle shot back. His hands went for his sai as he added, "I had a bunch 'a people talkin' at me today, and I wanna get somethin' straight. You're gonna talk to me. You're gonna tell me what this Alma Roja mumbo-jumbo is, what it's gotta do with me, and what crazy scheme you're hatchin' up with it. And then you're gonna sit nice 'n quiet while I poke at ya 'til ya bleed."

"He pokes!" Ichimaru scoffed lightly. "We should be very careful with him. Some of us might wind up with holes in our chests!"

Though he didn't fully understand why the unseen audience behind him was chuckling, Raphael was satisfied when they quieted down as he withdrew his sai and held them for all to see. "If I get within a foot 'a any 'a you with one 'a these, holes are gonna be the least 'a your worries."

Raphael tensed when he heard the rustling behind him and knew that some of Aizen's forces were stirring. They quieted down when Aizen rose to his feet and told them, "Now stop this. There's no need for idle threats or chiding remarks-"

"What makes ya think they're idle, Elvis?" Raphael growled.

Aizen narrowed his dark eyes at the turtle for a moment before continuing. "Our guest is here for answers, and we'll give him answers. He simply needed an incentive to bring him here, and now that that's done, there's no need for lies." Descending the dais, he beckoned to Raphael. "Please, Raphael, follow me."

Raphael felt a low growl rumbling in his throat as he contemplated his choices. He didn't know how many were behind him, so blindly hacking and slashing would probably not be the best of ideas. Plus, he was almost certain that the ever-grinning Ichimaru was standing besides him with his sword at the ready. Much as he hated to follow Aizen into an adjoining, darkened room and leave the safety of the still-open portal, Raphael didn't think now was the best time to try his luck. Rushing blindly into danger was one thing; rushing blindly into danger when your enemies can possibly destroy souls was something else entirely.

Stepping into the room, Raphael immediately saw what accounted for the meager amount of light. A white orb of some sort was displayed on a pedestal, besides which Aizen had come to a stop. Though he didn't know why, Raphael found that he couldn't bring himself to edge more than a few feet into this display room. Something about that ball 'a light, he realized. It's givin' out a whole lotta power.

"Let me, if I may, make an introduction," Aizen told him. "This item is known as the Hougyoku. It was created by a very ambitious young scientist who, for all his genius, didn't have the proper insight to use it for all its worth. I was forced, therefore, to take it out of his hands and have been putting it to very good use."

Instead of elaborating on its use, Aizen turned wryly to the Hougyoku and remarked, "Hougyoku, I'd like you to meet Raphael, the Alma Roja. He has been asleep for a very long time. It is now time to force him to open his eyes."

And open they did, for Raphael's initial reaction was to widen his eyes upon seeing the dim white light of the orb instantly grow to almost blinding proportions. He tried to shield his face from what he imagined would be an explosion, but he found himself incapable of movement and wracked with pain. Wha... what's happenin' to me?

As though having read Raphael's mind, Aizen's voice came from the bright abyss and said, "We are conducting an experiment, Raphael, and it pains me that we cannot replicate the results should they prove to be successful. Given the research made by Soul Society and by my Espada, the Alma Roja has only the power to destroy, and nothing more. While a good portion of the Earth's population will have to be slaughtered at some point, my plans do not involve the complete annihilation of all creation. Why rule if I have no subjects, after all?"

From somewhere behind Raphael, an unfamiliar voice spoke out. "Aizen-sama! The special forces units have been dispatched from Sereitei and will arrive in approximately seven minutes."

"How disappointing," Aizen sighed. "I would have thought that they'd catch wind of us long before now. Oh well. I'd rather have too much time to spare than risk being interrupted. What of the group in New York, Tousen?"

As Aizen spoke, the brightness in the room dimmed down and a nearly-audible pop filled the room as darkness returned. Crying out, Raphael found himself reeling on the floor, his heart pounding and beads of sweat rolling off his forehead. Like a heart attack or somethin'... can't move....

At the doorway, the one known as Tousen replied, "It seems as though they're still hesitating, but I saw Lieutenant Matsumoto contact shinigami headquarters. They will doubtlessly learn of our true location and will make the predictable choice."

"Excellent," Aizen rejoined. "Then I suggest you set up our welcoming committee. The rest of the Espada may return to Hueco Mundo."

Hueco Mundo? Raphael thought, bewildered. I thought that's where we already were. What the heck is going on here? Though he tried to move, he seemed to be suddenly weighed down at his center and his limbs were numb, almost as though they were no longer attached to the hunk of flesh that was his body. He found that he couldn't even squirm in frustration, which was just as well. Given Aizen's infuriating leer as he moved towards him, Raphael didn't want to give this guy the pleasure of watching him squirm.

"I regret that I won't be here to watch your soul take its true shape," he told the immobilized turtle. "It poses far too great a risk, you see. But my commanders will be in touch, being brave enough to stand by and greet your friends even though it poses such a danger to them. You've already met Gin."

"Oh yes," came Ichimaru's familiar voice from somewhere behind Raphael. As Aizen disappeared from view, Ichimaru continued, "I've heard a good deal about your brothers, but the only one I was fortunate enough to spend any time with was Leonardo-sama. Heaven knows he's a boring conversationalist, so to have an opportunity to guard the Alma Roja should be far more entertaining."

"Couldn't be more right," Raphael spat out, surprised to find that he could form the words. "I've got some choice things I'd like to say to ya. And heck, no time like the present, right, ya creepy bastard?" As Ichimaru threw his head back and laughed, Raphael experimentally twitched the fingers on one of his hands. From what he could tell, they moved.

"You do realize, turtle," Ichimaru told him jovially, "that the only thing keeping me from hacking ya into little bits is the fact that, once your heart stops beating and your soul comes out to play, this dumb world ends, right? Why else would we bring you to Soul Society instead of Hueco Mundo? We used the Hougyoku to start eroding your chain of fate, and once it breaks, Soul Society and the shinigami will-theoretically, at least-be history. To put it in little words for ya: you're dyin', turtle. And you're gonna take a whole lotta people down with you into Oblivion."

From the main room, someone laughed out, "Here they come!"

While Ichimaru turned his attention to the ensuing skirmish, Raphael's thoughts raced. So that's what that bright light had done to him. It was like throwing acid onto his chain of fate, the chain connecting his soul to his body. So why didn't it affect Aizen or anybody else in the room?

The simple answer, Raphael soon realized, was that he was the only one in the room who had a chain of fate. From what he had learned from Urahara, shinigami are made entirely of soul particles and need to adopt a human body to be made visible in the physical world, hence why Raphael couldn't see them without focusing his spirit power. So if Aizen and the others were, as he believed, formerly shinigami, then that meant that they were all spirit particles. What would happen, then, if...?

The corners of Ichimaru's lips tilted slightly downwards, though he couldn't be strictly said to be frowning. They had believed that Urahara and Yoruichi would stay behind in New York, and that only Leonardo, Ichigo, Matsumoto, and Hitsugaya would go through the portal, and thus they had left three fighters behind in the main room. They had been partially right. While Urahara and Yoruichi had indeed neglected to join the battle, Leonardo was accompanied by two more turtle allies, and a furry creature that could only have been a rat. "Oh," he whined quietly, noting that they were vastly outnumbered and he would thus be needed to join in the fray. "That's unfortunate."

Sensing a spike in Raphael's rietsu, Ichimaru's eyes widened ever so slightly as he whirled around. He managed to see just as the turtle retrieved a shinigami badge that he had hidden away before he brought it to his heart, activating it. Not knowing what to expect, Ichimaru took a step backwards, walking right into a flying kick from one of the new turtle arrivals.

"Okay, skinny kid," Michelangelo remarked, his nunchucks at the ready. "I'm only gonna ask you this once. Where's...?" His voice trailed off as he got a look at two figures in front of the fallen enemy. One of them was his brother's comatose body lying on the ground. The other was... "...Raph?"

Raphael rose to his feet, disoriented by the feeling of stepping over his own body. Though this had happened before during his training with Urahara and Yoruichi, there were a few things very, very different this time around. For one, there was no chain of fate, red or otherwise. He couldn't understand it at first until he noticed another difference: he was wearing clothes. Not just any clothes, either. Holding his arms out, he looked at the black and white robes covering his body and realized why there was no chain of fate. He was a shinigami.

That was when the third difference dawned upon Raphael. Not only was he no longer in pain, but he felt good. Really good. Scary good. No chain 'a fate, he realized. Nuthin' tyin' me down to my body. It's just me... the Alma Roja, whatever that is. And like that guy said, I've only got the power to destroy. Grinning down at Ichimaru as the man slowly made his way to his feet, Raphael murmured, "I am so gonna enjoy this."

Michelangelo darted back, pressing himself against the wall as Raphael lunged for the guy he had kicked. He had no idea what was happening, or why it looked like Raphael's ghostly form-which seemed to be wearing a kimono or something-was moving at the speed of light. He could see the more solid figure of his brother's body laying on the floor, and it didn't look like he was breathing. Oh man. Not good, not good.

Scurrying out of the room, Michelangelo turned to the pair closest to him-Matsumoto and Donatello-as they were beaten back by a guy with bright blue hair and matching eyes. Heading behind them even as they readied themselves for another attack, Michelangelo commented, "Guys, guys, I think we're too late! I just saw Raph's ghost, and he didn't look none too happy."

"What?!" Matsumoto exclaimed, chancing a glance back at him.

"He just rose up from his own body," Michelangelo explained. "Raph number one's lying stiff on the ground, and Raph number two is all billowy and... and... and kinda like you." Looking at Matsumoto closely, he asked, "Say, what are you again? You're not a ghost, right?"

Surprisingly, the first one to speak was the blue-haired enemy. "He's a shinigami? The Alma Roja is in shinigami form?" With a smirk, he cast a glance towards the room in which Raphael and Ichimaru were last seen. "I'm gonna go get me a piece of that action. Better than watching Wiggles here flaunt her cleavage at me."

"Like I could help it!" Matsumoto shot back. Despite the anger and embarrassment in her voice, she didn't try to make after him. She could see Ichimaru fighting against what looked like an incredibly fast shinigami in the next room, and she didn't know if she'd be tempted to fight him or help him. Before she seriously allowed for either thought to be entertained, she turned to Hitsugaya. "Captain!"

Hitsugaya and Splinter were facing off with a thin, pale man with impossibly large, unemotional green eyes. Judging by their panting breaths and their enemy's composed nature, it appeared that they were losing. "I heard, Matsumoto," Hitsugaya called. "There is little we can do now."

"There is nothing you can do now," replied their opponent. "Nor was there anything that could have been done prior to your arrival. The only portal open now leads directly back to Hueco Mundo. You can either stay here and be killed by the Alma Roja, or you can allow us to take your heads back to Aizen-sama as prizes."

"This Aizen creature shall have no prize," Splinter proclaimed. "Not our heads, nor the spirit that resides within my son. Soul Society cannot be destroyed without all of existence falling into ruins, and Aizen should know this. He is a fool to think that he can use a primordial power such as the Alma Roja against the shinigami."

"The only fool I see is the one who would deem to call these green monstrosities his 'sons,'" the quietly condescending man told him. "If it weren't for the fact that I regard you as little more than trash, I would be surprised by such sentiments."

His green eyes widened, then, and he managed to use the flash step technique to dodge an angry blow from Leonardo's swords. "I hate hearing people disrespect my father," the turtle told him darkly. "So I think I'm going to have to shut you up before you say anything else."

"Whoa," Michelangelo murmured, "Leo's been taking some lessons from Raph." The mention of his possibly-dead brother caused him to cast a glance over his shoulder, concerned about what was happening now that two of the bad guys were in the room with Raphael's "ghost."

"Leonardo, get back!" Ichigo exclaimed, darting in front of Leonardo. He had managed to transform into a shinigami with Kon's help, and he kept his massive soul slayer between the turtle and his enemy. "This is Ulquiorra Schiffer, the fourth-strongest Espada. I don't want to make him think he's important, but he's too much for you to handle."

"Then we'll handle him together," Leonardo affirmed.

"Leo, watch it!" Donatello called out. Leonardo managed to whirl around just in time to see Donatello parry an attack from the blind, dark-skinned man that he and Ichigo had been fighting before. Ichigo had jokingly called the man Kaname-taichou, making Leonardo conclude that this was one of the former shinigami captains that had turned traitor and sided with Aizen.

"Aw, jeez," muttered Ichimaru's voice. Michelangelo and Matsumoto whirled around as the man stopped only a few feet away from them, looking unhappily out at the mess. "What a spectacle. I can't risk Ulquiorra and Tousen being unable to take care of seven of you on their own, especially not with Grimmjow deciding he wants to try to prove something with the Alma Roja." With a heavy sigh, he glanced at Michelangelo and remarked, "I really don't like picking up the slack. It puts me in a bad mood."

Michelangelo hardly had time defend himself before Ichimaru's sword rang out against Matsumoto's, who had hurriedly stepped in on the turtle's behalf. Even as unfamiliar with the two of them as he was, he could see Ichimaru's faltering smile and Matsumoto's grievous determination and sensed a complex history between the two of them. "It's not going to end like this, Gin," she whispered to him harshly. "Please don't try to make it end this way."

Ichimaru said nothing for a moment. Then, with a smirk, he answered, "No one said this was the end, Rangiku." He quickly pushed her back with so much force that she fell to the ground, and he didn't even need time to regain his equilibrium before kicking Michelangelo firmly in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Grinning down at both of his fallen opponents, he finished, "I'm only just getting started."

"So am I."

The former-shinigami turned around and had just enough time to use his sword against a barrage of ice from Hitsugaya's sword. The movement forced him back slightly, and Hitsugaya quickly took the opportunity to step in front of Matsumoto and Michelangelo. "No one harms my lieutenant, Ichimaru," he told his ex-comrade. "Between her and Hinamori, you and I have some business to settle."

With a small chuckle, Ichimaru prepared himself for another attack as Michelangelo wondered who Hinamori was. "My, my, Toushiro-kun. It seems I constantly come between you and the women in your life." His voice taking on a colder edge, he added, "Maybe you should have learned by now to stay out of my way, little boy."

Michelangelo braced himself as the two strong shinigami raced towards one another, expecting something akin to the Big Bang and yet unwilling to step between them. Whoever this Gin or Ichimaru or whatever his name was, the turtle quickly decided that he didn't like him one bit. Since it was so rare for him to dislike anyone so immediately, Michelangelo trusted his instincts and stood up, helping Matsumoto to her feet.

"So, uh," he began weakly. "Old boyfriend?" Seeing Matsumoto's wide-eyed glance and sensing a trace bit of anger, he stepped back and amended that with, "Friend, I mean. Old friend? Not that that matters right now. He's about to kick your captain's butt. Outnumbered or not, this is still a clash of the titans thing going on here, and I'm not feeling particularly titan-y."

Though his pop culture reference went over Matsumoto's head, she nodded in agreement. Flinching as Ichimaru and Hitsugaya clashed swords and watching the rest of their allies dealing with Kaname and Ulquiorra, she looked towards the other room as her mind raced.

So, given what Michelangelo had said, Raphael's soul was no longer within his body. With the Alma Roja imbued with the powers of a shinigami, why weren't they all dead yet? Unless.... "We may not have much time," she realized quietly, hardly aware of speaking out loud. "That's why Aizen left the portal to Hueco Mundo open and led us all into a remote sector of Soul Society. The Alma Roja is like a ticking time bomb, and when time's up-"

She was cut off by a sharp yell as something catapulted from the next room. Fighting ceased when the blue-haired man that Ichimaru had called Grimmjow skidded to a painful halt on the floor. He tried to raise himself up to his elbows, but his strength failed him and he lay still.

Ichigo gaped at the fallen Espada, shocked. He had fought Grimmjow several times, barely managing to escape each encounter with his life. In terms of difficulty, Ulquiorra was the only other Espada that he had met that could rival Grimmjow's perseverance. So if he had been defeated in the less than two minutes since they had arrived....

"Tch," Ulquiorra sneered. "How pathetic."

"How fortuitous," Ichimaru corrected. "It sure beats an egg-timer. Grab him and lead him into the portal, will you, Ulquiorra?" Turning to his opponent, his smile took on a malicious air as he remarked, "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut our scholarly discussion a bit short, Toushiro-kun. Don't worry, though; I still fully intend to drive my point home." Though Hitsugaya grimaced and prepared to dodge the next attack, they both knew it would be pointless when Ichimaru raised his soul slayer and called, "Shoot to kill, Shinsou!"

As Ichimaru's sword elongated and snaked towards Hitsugaya, the young shinigami knew that even his flash step wouldn't save him now. Judging by Matsumoto's outcry, even she was certain that Ichimaru's sword would hit its target. Hitsugaya was fast, but so was Ichimaru's weapon.

All this raced through his mind in a matter of seconds, leading him to start when he saw something large materialize in front of him and heard the unmistakable sound of metal clashing against metal. He was puzzled for a moment before hearing Leonardo's amazed voice breathing out, "Raph?"

Sidestepping the creature that had intervened, Hitsugaya looked up to see the turtle that he had fought on the rooftop so many hours before. If not for the clear characteristics that defined it as such-the green skin, the large shell beneath the shinigami robes, and the red bandanna-he would have hardly recognized the ninja creature known as Raphael. That was because, he soon realized, this was no longer Raphael. "No," he told Leonardo in a hushed voice. "The Alma Roja."

Something seemed to twitch beneath Raphael's skin; a red aura of some sort, trying to become something more tangible than an aura. His sai had been replaced by a pair of three-bladed katars, which he used to easily keep Ichimaru's weapon at bay. And judging by his harsh breathing and the disturbing light in his eyes, he took extreme pleasure in the brief glint of fear that passed over Ichimaru's face. Taking a step away from the turtle, Hitsugaya came to the same conclusion that Matsumoto had: they were running drastically low on time, and the only means of escape was straight into the lion's den.

Looking over his shoulder, he glanced at his lieutenant, who was staring at the spectacle with wide eyes. "They mean to use him to destroy Soul Society," he told her lowly. "The portal is our only hope." Her blue eyes turned to look down at him. She didn't even need him to continue speaking before she understood what he was getting at. "We must force him into Hueco Mundo. It's the only way to save ourselves and destroy our enemies."

"What about Raphael?" Donatello asked. "You can't just-"

"Your brother is dead," Kaname proclaimed, though not without a fair bit of sympathy. "You can either come to Hueco Mundo and join our cause, or you can join him. Unfortunately, Aizen-sama has already stated his preference."

"Quit talkin', Tousen," Ichimaru told him, finally losing his smile and turning his lips down into a harsh scowl as he stared down at the turtle. "We don't care about the mutants. Get rid of that Kurosaki brat, and I'll handle the Tenth Division captain and lieutenant." Smirking sarcastically at Raphael, he added, "That is, if the esteemed Alma Roja doesn't get too hot under the collar."

"For somebody who just told one 'a his stoolies to shut up," Raphael replied, "ya sure do talk a lot." With that, he forced Ichimaru's soul slayer back, causing him to stumble backwards as he reined his blade in. Without looking away from Ichimaru, Raphael pointed one of his katars at Kaname, stating, "Ya take a single step towards Ichigo, and I'm gonna carve ya up so bad you'll think it was Thanksgiving, got that, turkey?"

Being sightless, Kaname couldn't see the change that overcame Raphael nor witness the ease with which he had caused Ichimaru's soul slayer to recoil. But he could sense Raphael's rietsu, and noted that it was stronger than any other he had ever known. It made his skin tingle with its raw power. If this... thing got into Hueco Mundo, it would be the end of Aizen's empire before it even began. Reasserting his grip on his soul slayer, he asked, "Ichimaru?" Receiving no answer, he wondered over the silence enveloping the room. "Ichimaru," he repeated.

"Scared off by a lame threat, Tousen?" Ichimaru laughed. Despite the chuckle, his voice was grim. "Go, then. Get outta here. Kurosaki's gonna die anyway. He's not gonna let one of his buddies sacrifice himself, not even for the world." He waited until he heard Kaname shuffling off. Noticing that they were even letting Ulquiorra go towards the portal with the wounded Grimmjow, Ichimaru decided that he was either right... or they were waiting for all of the bad guys to go through the portal before shoving the Alma Roja in after them. He would have to time this just right if he wanted this to work.

Looking up at Matsumoto, he grinned amiably at her. "How about it, Ran? Hueco Mundo ain't so bad once you get used to it. It's gotta be better than complete oblivion by way of an angry turtle, huh? Sounds like a pretty pointless way to die."

"Don't knock it 'til ya try it," Raphael retorted. "Willin' to give it a go?"

"You're outnumbered, Ichimaru," Leonardo spoke up, standing in besides his brother. Even as limited as his own spirit power was, he could sense the overwhelming change in Raphael. It would have made him break out into a sweat, but he remained composed when he remembered the most important factor in this situation: Raphael was still his brother. Even with the power to destroy the world, that wasn't going to change. "If you had any sense," he continued, "you'd turn around and leave."

"Maybe he's got too much sense," Donatello brought up, stepping in besides Leonardo. "Based on what Urahara told me before we took off, the Alma Roja needs a certain gestation period... it's like a bomb with no strict timer. So if he overheard Captain Hitsugaya talking about forcing Raphael into Hueco Mundo-"

"He's just biding his time," Michelangelo realized, getting over his discomfort concerning Raphael's appearance and moving next to him. Narrowing his eyes, he mentioned, "So I'm guessing that we've gotta make it clear that he doesn't have any time."

"How about it, hotshot?" Raphael asked, gesturing towards Ichimaru with a katar. "Think ya got it in you to fend off the Alma Roja and his three brothers?"

"And father," Splinter added.

"And friend," Ichigo piped up, his soul slayer at the ready.

"Friends," Matsumoto rectified. Seeing Ichimaru's surprised glance, she swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat as her hands gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. "You made a really dumb mistake, Gin."

His voice low, he lightly queried, "I assumed that you loved me?"

Despite the deep blush that rose to her cheeks, Matsumoto steadily responded, "No. You assumed that love was enough to keep me from doing what's right." Raising her sword, she moved in front of the line of males that had formed in front of her and declared, "The next time I see you, I won't give you a chance to hurt anyone again. Now go crawl back to Aizen before I do what I should've done a long time ago."

"You'll die," he stated, as though it were a revelation.

"But unlike you," Hitsugaya remarked, "she won't die like a dog."

Without warning, Raphael darted straight for Ichimaru, hardly giving the silver-haired man enough time to use his sword to parry one of the katars. Raphael's weapons however, like his sai, were ideal for disarming an opponent, and a simple flick of his wrist was all that was needed to send Ichimaru's weapon clattering to the floor. Before Ichimaru could get any funny ideas, Raphael kicked it away and grabbed Ichimaru by the collar. "Tell Elvis," he snarled in his face, "that if he's plannin' on messin' with Ichigo or any 'a his friends again, he's gotta tangle with me first."

With a smirk, Ichimaru replied, "You won't be around forever, turtle."

Raphael returned the smirk with one of his own, causing Ichimaru's placid expression to fade away into something similar to unease. "Not forever," the turtle agreed. "Just a little longer than you." Ichimaru's eyes finally widened enough to see his eye color as both of Raphael's katars rammed into his gut and pushed him back. Raphael thought that the man's eyes were a crimson red, but he couldn't be sure. Everything was red to him, from the color of Ichimaru's eyes to the stain creeping along the white folds of his robes. Red had always been his color. Now he knew why. He was the Alma Roja. The red soul. If Ichimaru's eyes really were crimson, it'd be an amusing coincidence.

Raphael was driving Ichimaru towards the portal, his smirk fading away as he growled at the former shinigami. There was only one way to end this. Hitsugaya had known, and it seemed like Matsumoto never raised any argument against it. Ichimaru needed to be taken back to Hueco Mundo... and Raphael needed to follow him.

Leading Ichimaru towards the shimmery black portal, Raphael dislodged his weapons from the man's abdomen. No longer held upright by the strong hold of the turtle's weapons, Ichimaru fell backwards. Before disappearing into the portal , it looked as though he held out a hand for someone or something behind Raphael, but Raphael didn't know for sure nor did he care.

He was about to follow after him, but he felt a hand on his arm pull him back. "Raph, no!" Turning, he was surprised to see Leonardo behind him; there was a time when Leonardo would have yanked him halfway across the room if he had known what he was about to do. Was Raphael really that much stronger now that he was in this form?

Shrugging his brother off of him, he commanded, "Don't try to stop me, Leo. We both know what I gotta do. I stay here, Soul Society comes down with me."

"It's not Soul Society I'm worried about," Leonardo told him desperately.

With a small laugh, Raphael replied, "I know. That's why I gotta get goin'. Don't wanna end up taking you out, too."

"Raphael." He looked up to see Ichigo put his sword down. Ichigo was looking down, his brown eyes obviously pained. It was then that he noticed that Leonardo had been the only one to approach him. Everyone else-even his family-maintained their distance. "I wish I could tell you to stay," Ichigo continued quietly. "But that isn't for me to say. All I can say is that I'm very happy to have met you." As he looked up at Raphael, a small, sad smile touched his lips as he concluded, "Now get out of here before you kill us all."

"It doesn't have to be this way!" Michelangelo cried out unexpectedly.

"Michelangelo," Splinter whispered, putting his hand on his son's shoulder.

"No!" Michelangelo argued. "It just doesn't! His body's right there in the other room. We can put him back and it'll all be okay. There's no reason for him to get all nuclear on us, is there?"

"It's over, Mikey," Raphael told him sternly. "They used some kind of magic on me and took away my chain 'a fate. If it weren't for the fact that I had Ichigo's shinigami badge, I woulda imploded right away. As it is, all I did was gain us enough time to push the baddies back." Turning away from them, he clenched his fists against the handles of his katars and stared into the inky blackness in front of him. "Now it's time to quit stallin'."

Before anyone could stop him, Raphael ran straight into the portal.

Raphael thought he might've heard someone call out to him before he took off into the black tunnel, but the sound quickly faded away as he continued to move, trying to put as much distance between himself and his loved ones as possible. It wasn't so much dying that bothered him as it was the thought of being responsible for the deaths of so many good people. He had already gotten a woman killed during the Menos Grande incident that afternoon; if there was going to be blood on his hands, he'd want to make sure that it was shed by people who deserved it.

Ahead of him, he was surprised to see the dark-skinned man called Kaname appear out of nowhere. Instead of slowing down, Raphael doubled his speed and held out his katars, aiming to plough straight through the man who no doubt planned to stop him. When Kaname slashed out with his sword, Raphael ducked as he saw numerous tiny blades emerge from the sword's trajectory, none of them coming close enough to pose a threat.

"Heh," Raphael called to the man who put his sword down. "What are ya, blind? Ya didn't get nowhere near me." It was only when he heard a loud scream from behind him that he came to a sudden halt. That voice... it sounded like....

"Yes," Kaname answered evenly, "I am blind. Even so, what makes you think I was aiming for you?" Without waiting for a reply from Raphael, he turned around and began walking back towards Hueco Mundo. "I admit it's a low trick to make you retrace your steps, but after what you did to Grimmjow and Gin, I find myself more interested in self-preservation. Sayonara, turtle. You wouldn't want to miss his last moments."

Raphael stood there, feeling himself grow feverish. He didn't know if it was a result of his worry or of the fact that his time was running short. How much further to Hueco Mundo? Would he even make it there before his soul just... gave out? What would happen if time ran out while he was still in the portal? If he ran the risks of Hueco Mundo and Soul Society being destroyed, shouldn't he at least satisfy his curiosity and go back to see...? But then, what would be the point? They'd get healers or something for him, wouldn't they?

Annoyed by the barrage of questions that flooded his mind, Raphael made an enraged sound and ran back. Damn Aizen. He knew he couldn't just stand back without checking back on his family. He knew that he wouldn't be able to not be there during his father's last moments. He'd send one of his lackeys to strike an old man just to fulfill his own needs.

Stumbling back into the black and white cavern that was located in Soul Society, Raphael panted hard as he looked down at the mess in front of him. It seemed as though most of the people there had gotten hit with one of the blades, though most of them were minor cuts. Still, that meant that there was blood everywhere. More red. More destruction. He truly was the Alma Roja.

"Raph?" Donatello asked, upon seeing his brother. "Raph, wha-... oh. You heard the screams." His voice trailed down to a thin whisper as he looked down at the two huddled forms on the ground, his throat clicking as he swallowed hard.

Saying that Raphael was surprised would have been an understatement. He had heard Splinter's voice scream loudly and passionately, but he had forgotten that his sensei wouldn't view his own demise with anything but a quiet dignity. On his knees, Splinter's bowed head and heaving shoulders made it clear to see the blade that had lodged itself in his arm, bleeding profusely but not being the source of his sobs.

It was seeing Leonardo lying motionless on the floor that caused the sensei and his students to resort to tears, something that they had never done as a group. Hitsugaya had taken out what looked like a cell phone and was speaking urgently into it as he requested medical back-up. Matsumoto and Ichigo simply looked on, both shocked and saddened. They too had suffered minor injuries, but were simply applying pressure to the wounds as they gazed down at the mourning mutants.

"No," Raphael finally whispered. "It happened cuz 'a me. I didn't...." Looking up at Ichigo, he stated, "I couldn't see the Menos, so I called 'im. That's all it was. I just needed 'im to be my eyes. I didn't-"

"Raph?"

Raphael looked down upon hearing a weak, strained version of Leonardo's voice. Forgetting about his headache and general queasiness, he dropped down to his knees besides his brother, nearly knocking Michelangelo away. "Leo, you're okay!" Seeing the black blood pouring from a wound on the bottom left of his plastron, Raphael could only snap his mouth shut. It looked as though he had been hit on his left side and someone had hastily removed the blade before realizing that the effort would be futile. After a moment of watching Leonardo's eyes failing to fix on his, he asked, "Donnie?"

It was a long time before Donatello answered. "As far as I could tell, his liver's been pierced. Or maybe his stomach. Or... well, there are a lot of vital organs around there, and judging by the discoloration of the blood, something's been pierced. If he doesn't get medical attention soon...."

Putting his communicator away, Hitsugaya proclaimed, "I just spoke to the captain of the fourth squad, which is comprised of our healers. They've pinpointed our location and are sending a squadron out right away. They should be here in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Donatello asked. It seemed like he was about to say something, but he didn't need to. The tone of his voice said it all; they might not have ten minutes.

As though allowing a moment to pass to take this in, Hitsugaya brought up, "A special forces unit has also been deployed. They should arrive at any moment. If we can improvise a stretcher, two of them can use the flash step and take him back to-"

He was interrupted by a loud, long scream from Raphael. Being the closest to him, Michelangelo made a surprised cry and arched back. It was the first time since Leonardo was struck that Splinter ventured a look upwards. As for the three shinigami, they knew exactly what was happening. While Hitsugaya and Matsumoto each took a step back, Ichigo stepped forward and even reached out towards the turtle that had become his friend. "Raphael...."

Donatello, the only turtle that had been on his feet, moved backwards and nearly bumped into Ichigo. "This is it, isn't it? We're about to watch the world's first soul... what, go back from where it came? Help me out on the theological aspects of this."

"I don't think theology is what I'd call it," Ichigo murmured, noting the sudden increase in heat.

"Call me crazy," Donatello nearly whimpered, "but I'm suddenly really interested in theology."

Michelangelo jumped up to his feet and backed away from Raphael. He was loath to do it, but he couldn't help himself. There was a definite temperature increase in the room, and it stemmed from his still-yelling brother. "End of the world as we know it," he remarked quietly to no one in particular. "Wish I could say that I feel fine."

Splinter merely stared at his incensed son, his grief for Leonardo making it difficult to chastise Raphael. Then again, given the circumstances, he doubted if chastisement was the proper course. Leonardo was failing fast. And the only hope for Soul Society would have been for Raphael to escape to Hueco Mundo. Given his current temperament, Splinter doubted very much that anything could change Raphael's course now. With a short prayer, Splinter reflected on the fact that he was thankful to be given the chance to go alongside his sons.

"Captain," Matsumoto said, placing a hand on Hitsugaya's shoulder. Though he said nothing and didn't turn to look at her, Matsumoto was grateful for the touch of his hand on hers as he squeezed it gently. They had worked well together for years, becoming an unlikely yet successful pair, and both of them considered it an honor to stand by one another until the end. They had lost, and Aizen had won. It was best to accept defeat along with the minor victories along the way.

Raphael's cry had initially been one of anguish, but it steadily turned into something more practical: pain. He could feel something deep within the center of his being, as though a match had just been lit and every inch of him was slowly catching fire. His hands clutched at his head as his eyes squeezed shut, the crimson after-images behind his eyelids doing nothing to ease his headache. So, this was what it was like when your soul collapsed, huh?

Donatello saw it first, the pale dim light that seemed to radiate from Raphael's chest. His heart, the turtle realized. I guess early philosophers had something when they claimed our souls are in our hearts. Had he not been preoccupied by the thought of imminent death, he would have wondered over the mechanics of Raphael's shinigami form being partially him and partially this Alma Roja. After all, wasn't his body still in the next room, and his soul...? But that was something he'd have all eternity to figure out in the afterlife, assuming there was one.

Michelangelo covered his eyes as the red light grew ever-brighter, making him think of some old adventure movie he had once seen where a giant ruby bathed everyone around it in a scarlet glow. That's all this is, he tried telling himself. Just a bath in a nice warm light. We deserve a good rest, right? His chest tightened with the fear that always comes when one expects death, but he was proud of himself. He wasn't screaming, he wasn't crying, and he was about to meet his maker. That putz could probably use a good shell-kicking, after all.

All inner monologues came to an end when the entire cavern was covered in the eerie red light and Raphael's screams faded away. Ichigo kept his eyes open for as long as he could, watching the turtle simply vanish into burgundy particles that in turn dissipated. He felt an oddly tingling sensation from within him, and that was when he closed his eyes, thought of his father and his sisters, and got ready for whatever was going to happen next.

It was a long time before anyone moved, as everyone had done as Ichigo had and simply closed themselves off in preparation for death. It was Michelangelo who opened a single eye first and gazed around the room. He felt... odd. There was really no other way to describe it. He could feel the cold stone floor beneath his feet and smell the acrid blood coming from the various open wounds and see the slightest trembles from Splinter's whiskers. Touching his chest, he marveled at the feel of his plastron beneath his fingertips and noticed that his scars all had a different texture to them, as though they were each trying to tell their own story. He was about to grin at this strange outcome when a thought suddenly hit him. "Am I dead?"

His voice jarred everyone else out of it. Michelangelo also flinched at the sound of his own voice. He had thought that he was speaking only loud enough to be heard but... why did it seem so much louder?

After a few moments in which everyone was marveling over these same discoveries, Michelangelo snapped his fingers, amused at the way the sound reverberated off the walls. "Vampires! In Anne Rice books, when a person becomes a vampire, they get all these weird heightened senses." Noticing the strange glances he was receiving from the shinigami, he shrugged and admitted, "Okay, maybe not."

"Sensei?"

Everyone forgot about Michelangelo's strange suggestion when Leonardo's voice spoke much more clearly than it had only moments before. Michelangelo and Donatello rushed to kneel besides their wounded brother, seeing him attempting to sit up. "Leo, don't!" Donatello exclaimed. "You'll aggravate your injuries."

"Unless he's a vampire," Michelangelo muttered.

"I feel fine," Leonardo protested. He winced a little, putting a hand to his injury. "For the most part. For a turtle who just narrowly avoided being a shish kabob, I mean." After seeing that he was telling the truth, Splinter reached over and embraced him. Michelangelo and Donatello looked at one another before deciding that the questions could wait until later. After a shrug, they joined in on the hugs.

Moving towards Hitsugaya and Matsumoto, Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest and quietly told them in Japanese, "I thought we were supposed to evaporate into absolute nothingness. Instead, I feel like I can outrun Yoruichi and wipe that dumb smile off Urahara's face. Did your brains over at Sereitei get their calculations mixed up? Again?"

Hitsugaya looked down and said nothing, apparently deep in thought. Matsumoto, however, didn't seem to be one for questions. All she knew was that she was alive. And, running her hands over her arms, she also noted, "I've got such beautiful skin! Why didn't you ever tell me it was so soft, Captain? Look, Ichigo, doesn't it feel nice?"

As Matsumoto practically threw herself against Ichigo, the orange-haired boy stepped back and sputtered, "Get off me, Rangiku! It doesn't matter how nice you feel! You're all cut up, and so am I. So's Leonardo and Splinter-sama. Don't you think it's a bit weird that we suddenly don't feel any pain?"

"Speak for yourself," Leonardo remarked, finally prying away from the hugs. "I'm in plenty of pain. But when a person's got his vital organs punctured, I guess that's to be expected." As though just noticing it, he looked down at himself and remarked, "It looks like the bleeding's stopped, though."

"Where is Raphael?" Splinter asked. After ascertaining that Leonardo was all right, he had been looking at the spot where Raphael last knelt, hoping against hope that his family would still be intact. When no one answered, he turned back to the group of shinigami, having heard Ichigo's Japanese portion of the conversation. "It would appear that Kurosaki-san's estimation about the calculations being wrong is correct. Rather than destroy, the Alma Roja seems to have imbued us with greater strength and resiliency than we had before; it would appear Soul Society has not yet learned that just because something is more powerful, it does not necessarily mean that it will cause destruction."

He waited for a moment, as though looking to see if this point was understood by the shinigami. Seeing Hitsugaya's firm nod, Splinter contented himself with that and continued, "I had hoped that perhaps Raphael's life would have been spared. However, with his soul gone-"

"He gave each of us a bit of his strength," Leonardo affirmed, determined not to accept the evidence that told him his brother was gone. "Maybe he knew that on some level, and that's why he came back. All we can do is be grateful for that."

The seven of them fell silent for a moment, pondering Splinter and Leonardo's words. Ichigo didn't believe that Raphael expected to save his family; he had only wanted to be there with them. It was a selfish part of the turtle that Ichigo recognized all too well, having seen it in himself more times than he would have liked to admit. Still, if he and Raphael were as much alike as he believed, then he knew that Raphael would be happy knowing that he had, in actuality, saved those he loved rather than doomed them. That is, if any part of Raphael existed at all anymore.

All of them looked up when several black-clad figures raced into the room. They would have had them surrounded, had their newfound perceptiveness not alerted them to their presence much sooner than they should have been. Reaching a hand up for his bo, Donatello stood and commented, "Great, and here I thought we were the only ninjas in Soul Society."

"Put down your weapons," Hitsugaya said when he saw Michelangelo mimic his brother's reaction. "They're not here to fight. They're the special forces unit I told you about." As a woman clad in white shinigami robes designating herself as the captain strolled in, Hitsugaya looked at her and stated, "You're late."

"We were detained," she replied briskly. "Three arrancar. No doubt set there to delay us. Speaking of detainment, where's this Alma Roja? We can try sedating it before it causes too much damage."

Before anyone could say anything, a groan came from the adjoining room. Everyone whirled around to face the dark entranceway. Even as the woman silently motioned for two of her men to approach the door, the four mutants and three shinigami held out a small vestige of hope.

It seemed like a long time before the special forces shinigami that entered the room reemerged. "Well," inquired their captain, "who's in there?" One of them merely shrugged before pointing a thumb into the room.

No sooner had the gesture been made did Raphael stagger out into the main cavern. "Oh man, my head." Looking up in surprise at his family's joyful outburst, he winced and told them, "Yeah, nice to see ya, too. Now somebody get me some aspirin and point me in the direction 'a my bed. And when ya see Ichigo again, tell 'im that I ain't gettin' mixed up in no more 'a these stupid shinigami adventures."

"What do you mean, 'when we see Ichigo?'" Michelangelo asked. Pointing to the shinigami behind them, he remarked, "He's right-"

"His spirit power is low again," Ichigo realized. "He won't be able to see or hear me until I'm back in my body. He probably doesn't even know there's anyone in the room other than the four of you."

Proving Ichigo's point, Raphael spoke even as the shinigami was talking. "He's right about what?" Blinking, he grabbed his head and groaned again. "He's in here, ain't he? I just can't see 'im. And lemme guess, Urahara and that Yoruichi chick are hiding around the corner, ain't they? Please tell me that everything that happened was a really screwed-up practice session, because I'm really feelin' the need to pummel somebody for this."

The family looked at one another before glancing back at the shinigami, as though seeking advice on their next course of action. After a few exchanges of eye contact between the two present captains, Hitsugaya announced. "Soi Fon's men will need to take Raphael back to Sereitei for some brief examinations." Seeing Ichigo's concerned expression, Hitsugaya quickly clarified, "All of you are welcome to accompany him, since most of us need to be patched up anyway. Afterwards, you're free to return to the physical world. And depending upon what we may or may not discover about the affects of the Alma Roja on all of us, you can choose to forget we ever existed."

As the group mulled over their options, Raphael gave up on waiting for a response and simply fell to the floor, welcoming unconsciousness once again.