Grimmjow opened his eyes and could see nothing but a plain of white sand, white sand and black skies with a moon that stood grandly in the sky. Grimmjow looked around, very confused, very angry. They had split him apart form his beloved, they had sent him to this desolate place.

"Espada, the choice is now" Mente said, curling its long body around Grimmjow's torso. Grimmjow looked into the ember eyes, his throat constricting. "Do you wish for strength and no recollection of your past or do you want to keep your memories and stay at the level you are at now? " Mente hissed, serpent-like structure slithering across the white sands.

"I have made my decision." Grimmjow said, voice a little lower than usual.

"What shall it be?" Mente asked, finally forming a humanoid shape. It raised its arm and placed a shadowy hand in Grimmjow's face, awaiting the order.

"I choose…"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Szayel was slumped against the wall, sleepy eyes threatening to close once more. He yawned and let his body slide down the wall, eyes making their last comeback only for his lids to droop closed. He let out a contended sigh, both because the Sexta was making such marvelous study and because the simple action of closing his eyes made his whole being shudder in happiness.

"Ah, finally a much needed rest after hours of boring, tedious observations" Szayel thought to himself, head dropping. He could feel something odd--something in the energy of the room shift. He opened a single amber eye and saw reiatsu--thick, sky blue reiatsu filling in the entire room. He gasped and got up but it was too late. The pressure of the energy was too strong, too much and the Octava Espada was pressed up against the wall, air constricting, side being pressed against the hard marble surface.

"Where is HE?!" A voice roared and Szayel recognized it as that of the Sexta but the pressure, the sheer strength of the Sixth's spirit energy was so powerful. So much he couldn't breath, turn his head or even speak. Szayel's vision began to blur, and for the most saddest and stupidest of reasons, the only thing he could think about was how pissed off Aizen was going to be when Grimmjow destroyed the palace.

Maybe that was what turned Szayel's unmoving lips into a sad smile.

The blue reiatsu was curling now, smoldering but not as forceful as it had been. Szayel took a breath of air but didn't try to move from the wall. He collapsed on his knees, not trying to look up or trying to figure out what had happened. All he knew was that he survived--and that was enough.

Szayel fell sideways now, still breathing hard. The reiatsu was simply going through the room, not a blue any longer but still there. He couldn't hold it back now, the urge to pass out, and he did just that, collapsing in a heap of white and black clothes and pink hair. He saw blue--not reiatsu, hair, and black, a mess of black hair and green eyes and he didn't have control of himself as he hit the ground, couldn't control the choked out words that had escaped him before he could fall unconscious.

"Ulquiorra…what-what are you…doing here?"

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

When Grimmjow awoke, I mean really opened his eyes, felt his body moving, his heart beating, the only thought that crossed his mind was that he needed to get stronger, needed to work harder. After a few moments of recalling as much as he could, he realized one really important detail. He was laying down, being held by strong, cold yet gentle arms.

Grimmjow groaned and stirred into hose arms, those comforting arms. He felt his hand lift, felt his finger run along soft flesh. Grimmjow turned and looked at the person holding him, the familiar black hair, the wide emerald orbs and the bone helm. He choked on his words as he sat up and gawked at Ulquiorra.

"So you have awaken, I see?" Ulquiorra stated as if he hadn't been holding the Sexta so…caringly. "What do you remember?" Ulquiorra pressed on.

"I don't…I don't remember a lot…I just…" Grimmjow turned, hiding the heat rising to his face. "I know that I have to train--train and get stronger." Grimmjow whispered. Ulquiorra's eyes seemed to widen at that last part, but then he got up and off of the bed. Grimmjow got up after him, ignoring the dirty clothes he still wore, and almost fell due to the blanket wrapped around his legs.

"If that is all, I shall go and report to Lord Aizen that you have awaken." Ulquiorra said as he stepped casually out of the room. Grimmjow rushed towards him, arm extended. It was too late--Ulquiorra was outside of the room in a flash of black and white.

"I remember…what you mean to me…" Grimmjow choked out, hand slowly receeding.

…

Outside in the hall, the Fourth Espada walked, pace quick and hands in his pockets. He slowed down little by little and his green eyes scanned the hallway. He let his guard down for a moment, let himself listen to those awkwardly spoken words. His head, once hung dejectedly low, raised, eyes fierce and intense. Those black and white lips moved swiftly, quicker than the word was spoken.

"Mentiroso"