Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, or any of its characters; I do, however, claim ownership of this story, the ideas presented herein, and my OCs. Do not use/steal/etc. them without my permission. Thank you.
Author's Note: This is a long chapter. I tried splitting it into two parts, but it broke the flow of the action up too much. So you might want to grab a drink and some snacks, is all I'm saying. Hope you enjoy it.
Love Conquers All
Chapter 12: Inferno
The dark-eyed demon prince looked over from his makeshift throne with annoyance as the messenger walked in, wishing that he could just crush it like a bug.
"What is it, Balthazar?"
Callos was not going to deny the fact that he took perverse joy in having Saika's former adjutant running his errands, but the bastard constantly refused to treat him with respect and was never on time when called. Something would have to be done about that, Callos mused with a grim smile, which was promptly wiped off his face as Balthazar delivered his report.
"Death has fallen in battle, Prince Callos."
The prince's eyes widened in shock and he shook his head to clear it of anything that might be obstructing his hearing. Clearly, he hadn't heard what he thought he'd just heard. It was simply preposterous.
"Please tell me you're joking."
Balthazar sighed mentally, controlling himself before he spoke.
"With all due respect, Sir," he said in a tone that conveyed very little, "I would not joke about such things. The testimony I received from War himself stated that Death was most displeased with your decision to hold off on the attack until morning. She charged down towards the Seireitei on her own, and was defeated in battle and killed by an as-of-yet unidentified assailant. All we know of him is that he is a human, capable of transforming into a Hollow."
Callos snorted in disgust, hocking up a wad of spit and launching it across the room into a garbage can.
"What a vacuous whore," the prince said scornfully. Balthazar bit his tongue until it bled to stop from mentioning that the former Horseman had been the one with the right idea.
"There is something else, Prince."
"Speak."
"Your father, the Baron, has received news of both Tarsin's botched assault and of Death's demise. In an effort to relieve you, he has sent Malachi and Tenebros through the Gates, accompanied by a legion, to provide more firepower. They should be here shortly."
Callos' eyes narrowed.
"What could I possibly use those worthless failures for? There's a reason those two arrancar freaks replaced them as my brother's Captains; they were weak, and the strong demolished them."
"They have spent every waking moment since then fighting to become stronger, Prince," the messenger explained, "and their powers have risen accordingly, as far up as Euriae."
Callos' eyes widened slightly at that, impressed despite himself.
"They managed to rise that high this fast? Hmph, I guess I should give them a bit more credit, then. When are they due to arrive?"
No sooner had the question been asked than a burst of reiatsu was felt as a Gate was ripped open out of nothing, and Balthazar rose.
"It appears they have just arrived, Prince Callos. Shall I send them here?"
"Yeah, you go ahead and do that," the prince muttered apathetically, not really caring what Balthazar did at this point. His attention was focused solely on the two new weapons he was about to acquire, and pondering the best way to use them.
"What took you two so long?" Urahara asked Ichigo slyly, but his smile vanished when Ichigo looked at him with black and yellow eyes as deep and harrowing as the pits of Hell.
"I don't want to talk about it, Captain," he said curtly. Kisuke didn't attempt a comeback, nodding grimly and departing to go help Byakuya in setting up bulwarks. The other Soul Reapers were still a bit wary around Ichigo's vizard form, but he could care less. As long as his friends and those who mattered to him knew that he had total control over his Inner Hollow, he wore his red-streaked mask with pride.
Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stood off to the side, not entirely unwelcome but still feeling ostracized.
"Where's your girlfriend?" Grimmjow asked mischievously, but Ulquiorra didn't even look over at him.
"Neliel is still asleep, if that's what you're asking. And for the last time, she's not my—"
The two former Espada were distracted by a surge of demonic reiatsu off in the distance, and their eyes widened as they recognized the unique signatures. The other Soul Reapers felt something hazy, having been exposed to some demonic reiatsu in the last battle, but only Ulquiorra, Grimmjow, Saika, Renji, Rukia, Ichigo and Hitsugaya felt the true strength of the newly-arrived enemies. The Tenth Division Captain, who had been talking to Momo, felt his head pound for a moment as his eyes flashed blue before returning to their normal green.
"Toshiro?" Hinamori asked, concern showing clearly in her voice. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," he replied through gritted teeth, ears still ringing slightly at the sudden spike in reiatsu. "I'm fine, really."
"I doubt that somehow, Shiro-chan," Momo teased with a bittersweet smile, and Hitsugaya frowned.
"It's C…"
"Captain Hitsugaya, yes, I know," Hinamori completed, sighing. She wondered if she would ever see her old friend again, the one who had spent days lounging on the front porch mowing through watermelons like they were nothing. Reaching out, she put her hand on his head and ruffled his hair.
"But you're still Toshiro to me, Captain."
Normally Hitsugaya would have torn the arm off of the person who would dare do such a thing, but when Momo was the person involved the situation was anything but normal. Putting his hand up, Toshiro gently removed his friend's hand and lowered it slowly, but did not remove his own. Shifting his grip, the Captain entwined his own hand with Hinamori's, squeezing ever-so-lightly as he did so.
"I can feel Hyorinmaru crying out within me," he said softly, ignoring the light blush that dusted Momo's cheeks. "Just now, it was like my will was no longer my own. This feeling that burns within my soul, it… it terrifies me."
Hinamori's blush gave way to unabashed shock; she'd never seen her friend so open or vulnerable before. Acting like he hadn't noticed the change at all, Hitsugaya continued.
"This power I have now is immense, but if I can't control it I know it will consume me… Hyorinmaru will consume me. These demons that will assault us today will be their strongest warriors, and in the face of their power I do not know if I will be able to hold back. If something should happen to me out there, just know that I'm s—"
Momo stepped forward and cut the Captain off with a kiss that shocked the melancholy right out of him, but before he had a chance to respond Hinamori had backed away, her mouth still slightly open and her eyes shining.
"Don't apologize, you idiot," she said. "You're going to come back, right? So there's nothing to be sorry for."
Toshiro didn't know what to think, so he decided to just stop trying altogether. He all but lunged at the woman in front of him, wrapping an arm around her back and using it to keep her from falling as she was pushed down with so much force she almost left her feet. Time was merciful then and slowed its course, allowing the two of them to stretch the moment out for what felt like minutes. Eventually, however, Hitsugaya raised her back up and broke off, his expression a mystery once more.
"Goodbye, Momo," he said, "and good luck."
With that, the Tenth Division Captain vanished, no doubt off to prepare himself for the coming day. Hinamori was left standing stock-still in surprise, but a clear laugh brought her back to reality. When she turned around and saw who it was, she blushed fiercely.
"What's so funny, Lieutenant Matsumoto?"
"Oh, nothing," the Tenth Division Lieutenant replied in a tone that was far too innocent to be sincere. Growling in embarrassment, Momo stomped off to help prepare the defenses while Matsumoto just stood there laughing. It was a rare thing to be able to laugh during wartime, and she was going to take full advantage of it.
Saika felt his jaw clench involuntarily in rage as he realized who had just emerged from the Gate, and what it would mean for the coming battle.
Those bastards…
"What's wrong?" Yoruichi asked, and Aron couldn't keep his hands from balling into fists, a light trickle of blood seeping out from where his nails broke the skin of his palms.
"I should have killed them when I had the chance," he said ambiguously, but before the Shihoin princess could reply Ulquiorra and Grimmjow appeared right next to them, the buzz of sonido signaling their arrival.
"Aron-sama…" Schiffer began, but the orange-eyed prince held up a hand to stop him.
"I know, Ulquiorra," he said, his eyes on the ground. "It seems that the time has come for me to atone for my weakness."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Yoruichi snapped, angry at being left completely in the dark.
"I was merciful, once, when I should not have been," Saika explained, "and now what should have been a relatively simple battle has become much more complicated. You two," he continued, shifting his gaze to the faces of his Captains,
"Are you prepared for what is to come?"
The two former Espada nodded gravely.
"Very well, then. When those two ingrates get here, I will trust in both of you to do what you must."
"If they extend the challenge of morituri it will be accepted without fail, Aron-sama."
"I have no doubt that they will, Ulquiorra," Saika responded in a voice that made Yoruichi forget completely about the bright, humorous man she knew and look at him in a whole different way: he was a General of Hell; fighting constant battles for over 100 years would certainly change you, and not exactly for the better. It was as if his cheerful self that she had seen earlier was just a mask, covering his scars.
But he was also a Prince, whether he wanted to admit it or not, and he subconsciously bore himself with a somber nobility that brought Byakuya Kuchiki to mind, during the period when he had been mourning the death of his wife. Like Byakuya had been back then, it seemed as though Saika was struggling with all of his strength not to crack under the pressure.
"Yoru, are you all right?"
She blinked and saw that Saika was looking at her now with an expression of complete tenderness, the polar opposite of what she thought he would be capable of given his tone a few moments ago. But the way the light played off of his eyes, now their normal shade of orange, made it clear that he was concerned for her with every fiber of his being. Putting up a mask of her own, she scoffed.
"Of course I'm all right, you idiot," she said, the trace of a smile taking enough of the sting out of her words and for Aron to smirk in return, although it was clearly pained.
"Suit yourself," he said, before looking over again at his two Captains.
"I would suggest that the two of you say your goodbyes to whomever you wish, but I get the feeling that there aren't many people here you're on speaking terms with."
Ulquiorra's eyes relaxed for the briefest of seconds before hardening again. This was not going to be a pleasant talk.
"There is one," he said, and Saika smiled sadly.
"Go to her, then, my friend. And you, Grimmjow?" he asked, one eye glancing over at the blue-haired former Espada as Schiffer vanished. Jaegerjaques shrugged dispassionately, and Aron's smile widened ever so slightly.
"You're a terrible liar, Grimmjow."
The former sixth Espada glared for a moment, but then vanished with a buzz; it was true that there was no one he wanted to say goodbye to, but he certainly wouldn't mind saying hello to one Captain in particular. Saika looked over at Yoruichi and motioned wordlessly with a gesture that made her heart speed up before he vanished. The golden-eyed princess knew exactly where he was going, and followed in his wake.
Whatever he had to say, it was serious.
"I do not remember requesting reinforcements from my father," Callos said petulantly as he sat askance on his throne, looking down at the two kneeling demons before him.
"He told us that your distaste was to be expected, and ignored," Malachi spoke evenly, his tone formal.
"He also said that a foolish brat like you who failed to grasp the most basic of military strategies was going to need all of the help he could get," Tenebros said, his voice more acidic than his partner's had been. Callos seethed at the insult, but did not act on his anger; his weapons would do him no good if they were broken.
"So," he said as cordially as he could, "I hear the two of you have attained the rank of Euriae. Congratulations."
"Do not praise us yet, Prince Callos," Malachi replied coolly. "All of our training has been for but one purpose, and until that purpose has been achieved our rank is meaningless."
"Yeah, I'm gonna love looking down on that blue-haired son of a bitch as I choke the life out of him," Tenebros half-hissed, malicious glee dancing in his voice. Malachi shot his comrade a disgusted look, but Callos paid neither of the demons any mind for the moment. A plan was beginning to coalesce in his head, something so foolproof it couldn't possibly get screwed up by the incompetent maggots that comprised the bulk of his army.
What Callos didn't know was that his brother had already assumed he was going to make this move, and was preparing accordingly. But even if he had known, at this point nothing would have been able to dissuade the dark-eyed Prince from his scheme. He was going to demolish the three strongest obstacles to his domination of the Seireitei in one fell swoop, and after that nothing would be able to stand against him as his banner crossed over the threshold and into the Court itself. Looking down at the two former Captains, he smiled.
"How interested would you two be in fighting a morituri?" he asked, and Tenebros smiled.
"Why, your Highness," he answered, "we thought you'd never ask."
"It looks different in the dawn, don't you think?"
Yoruichi sat on the edge of the roof, dangling her feet in the air as she kept silent. She knew that Saika was trying to avoid telling her something, and she wasn't about to help him stall. The orange-eyed prince sighed when he realized that his strategy had failed miserably, taking a breath and speaking.
"My brother is going to challenge me to a duel this afternoon, Yoruichi," he said.
The princess cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.
"So?"
"So, I might not win."
Yoruichi fought back the urge to smack her former lieutenant hard across the face, but it took much more strength than she had thought it would.
"Why would you even think like that? He can't really be that powerful, can he?"
"I'd like to think not, but honestly I don't know," Aron admitted, walking over and dropping down onto the tiles of the roof, sitting next to his loved one.
"He's a purebred demon, which means he has to have something up his sleeve. On top of that, he always fights dirty," Saika added with a worried glance at Yoruichi, and she frowned.
"Don't tell me you're worried about me getting hurt? That's ridiculous!"
"Is it?" he snapped back, a little harder than he intended to. Seeing his former Captain shrink back under his anger, the prince softened his gaze and put a hand gently on her shoulder.
"Look, Yoruichi; I'm almost positive that I'll be able to defeat Callos, I'm just saying that I've seen him do far worse things than use a human shield. If things go like I think they will I should be able to keep him focused on me during the fight, but if there's one thing my bastard of a brother knows how to do it's run really, really fast."
Yoruichi gave a quick but warm smile, before her eyes hardened again; she was touched by Saika's concern, but if his mind was divided during the duel it would do nothing but work against him.
"Promise me that you won't think about me at all during the duel, Saika. If you get hacked up because you were distracted worrying about me, I'll never forgive myself."
"You know as well as anyone that I don't make promises I can't keep, kitten," Aron replied with a rueful smile, and Yoruichi knew she was going to have to resort to drastic measures. Leaning over with a distinctly feline smile on her face, she whispered,
"Indulge me just this once, Sai, and I'll make it worth your while."
The former Lieutenant just barely held back a spine rattling shiver at the implications in her tone, but when she leaned even closer and explained just how she was going to make it worth his while, Saika almost lost it on the spot. Reining himself in with every ounce of self-control he had, he swallowed audibly and replied.
"Well, Captain," he forced out through a suddenly dry throat, "I think we have ourselves a deal."
Yoruichi's grin widened.
"Good to hear it. Now you just have to make sure that you stay alive long enough to come home and collect."
Part of the orange-eyed prince's growl came through in his tense reply, his hands balled up into fists for an entirely different reason now.
"Something tells me that won't be a problem, sir," he replied, flash-stepping away before he lost control on the spot. There was no denying it; that woman truly deserved the nickname of 'Demon Cat'. Yoruichi let out an amused chuckle.
Men were so easy to get to sometimes.
Men are such animals…
This thought had occurred to Soi Fon more times than she could count over the course of her time in Soul Society, but it had never applied as aptly to anyone before as it did to Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. The mysterious blue-haired Espada who had gone to Hell and come back as a very unlikely ally in these troubled times was as much a feline as he was a human, and carried himself with the same tense, powerful grace. The flurry of kicks and punches the Second Division Captain was releasing into the air did nothing to banish the almost feral smile he had given her from her mind; it was as if he had been gauging her strength and her will to fight, challenging her pride and daring the Captain to do the same to him. Suzumebachi had been thrumming with aggressive energy since that exchange, yearning to brand that cocky bastard's face with a homonka and then see who was smiling. The tension in her reiatsu had become so great that Soi Fon had been driven here, to the dojo, working off the excess energy and trying to get her mind focused on the day ahead instead of that infuriating son of a…
The Stealth Forces leader was thrown violently out of her thoughts when her leg suddenly stopped moving. Soi Fon opened her eyes to see that a hand was wrapped securely around her shin, and she looked from the hand up the sharply sculpted arm it was attached to and across a scarred, half-bare shoulder blade before finally staring into a pair of bright, mischievous blue eyes.
"Not bad," Grimmjow said appraisingly, and from the way his eyes darted over her form Soi Fon couldn't tell if he was talking about her skills or her body. She was betting on the latter, but Jaegerjaques surprised her.
"Your form is sloppy, though, woman," he finished, letting her leg go and voicing a light, breezy chuckle before turning around and walking away.
Sloppy? Sloppy!?
Soi Fon's carefully honed self-control was slipping in the face of this unpardonable insult to her skill. She'd fought toe-to-toe with Yoruichi, for Heaven's sake. How dare he demean her like this!
I'll show that bastard 'sloppy'!
Soi Fon charged and aimed a swift, potentially fatal kick right at Grimmjow's temple, but he battled it away like a fly without even turning around.
"Like I said," he spoke as his stride remained unbroken, "sloppy. I heard that coming before you'd even taken a step, your muscles were so tense."
It took all she had to bite back a growl, but Soi Fon couldn't keep the anger out of her voice completely.
"If you're so good, why don't you prove it to me?"
A huge grin split Grimmjow's face as he heard those words; it turned out that the wasp had been even easier to snare than he'd thought she would be. Making sure the grin had disappeared before he turned around, the blue-haired warrior locked eyes with the simmering Captain of Second Division.
"You really want to get your ass beaten that badly, woman? Well too bad, 'cause I only fight if my enemy's as strong as I am, or if the stakes are high enough to make it worth my time. And I'll tell you right now that you aren't even near my level, so that leaves wagers. What's it gonna be?"
Soi Fon scoffed.
"I'm not about to be reduced to gambling on a fight with scum like you."
Grimmjow sighed.
"And here I thought you had fire under you, pushing you on to get stronger and stronger and stronger. Are you really not worried that my leader's woman is going to swoop down and take her spot back?"
Jaegerjaques could tell by the way her smoldering eyes widened and then narrowed murderously that he had struck a nerve, and struck it hard. Gritting her teeth, the Captain hissed out a reply.
"Fine. If I win, you have to admit that I am superior to you and never show your face to me in challenge again. In addition, you'll run all of my errands for a month, and I mean all of them."
Grimmjow just smirked. Those weren't half bad, but he could do better. Besides, if he died this afternoon he wouldn't even have to pay up, so it was really a win-win situation for him.
"Done. If I win," he said, the smirk widening, "I get to spar with you twice a day until you're as strong as I am. In addition," he finished, wondering just how she was going to react to his next demand,
"If I win, you give me your open Lieutenant spot for a month."
Soi Fon almost choked at those words. Was this freak serious? He couldn't honestly expect her to agree to that; no way was she going to let an arrancar wear the robes of a Soul Reaper Lieutenant!
"If you're too weak to take that bet, I can always just go tell Saika's woman that her protégé was such a coward she couldn't even…"
Grimmjow's words were cut off as he moved his head sharply to the left, barely dodging a blow that would have sent Suzumebachi's shikai right through his skull. As it was, he grimaced when a thin streak of blood shot away from his cheek and a black butterfly marking spread across his flesh.
"You're on, Espada," she hissed, and the former sixth Espada smiled.
"That's what I like to hear. Don't hold back on me, woman," he replied with a warrior's glee as he used sonido to escape his bind, cracking his knuckles and settling into a stance. Soi Fon's eyes narrowed.
"Why don't you draw your zanpakuto, beast?"
"If I need to, I will, woman," Jaegerjaques answered. "Jesus, don't make it seem like you want to lose; that's pathetic. Let's just hope for your sake that your stinger is as sharp as your tongue!"
With that Grimmjow vanished from sight, and Soi Fon had no idea where he had gone.
How could he be so fast?!
"Looking for me, cutie?"
The Captain barely had enough time to comprehend that Grimmjow was behind her before she was sent skidding into the opposite wall by a vicious spin kick. A trickle of blood seeped out of her mouth as Soi Fon rose to her feet, only to behold an empty dojo.
Before her steely grey eyes could blink she was up against the wall, Jaegerjaques' hand around her throat holding her in place.
"Told you I wouldn't have to draw my zanpakuto," he taunted with a smirk, gazing directly into her eyes. As much as she wanted to be revolted by the situation she found herself in, Soi Fon felt a shiver crawl languorously through her body as the feeling of being completely and utterly dominated swept over her, kindling a flame in the dark corners of her soul that even Yoruichi hadn't been able to spark. Grimmjow noticed the blood ebbing from the corner of her mouth and grinned before leaning forward, drawing his tongue across her cheek to stain it red, a parallel to the homonka on his cheek.
"Delicious…" he said, his voice low enough to make Soi Fon's breath catch momentarily in her throat. Drawing from her deepest well of control and vowing not to be undone by something so base, her eyes narrowed in a harsh calm that was not at all mirrored by the maelstrom beginning in her soul.
"You shouldn't have left me so close to my homonka, Grimmjow," she rasped, striking out at the place on his cheek where the first black marking glinted in the light.
"Shit!" the blue-haired warrior swore, releasing his grip and using sonido to escape just as the tip of Suzumebachi grazed his skin. Soi Fon smiled viciously, but to her surprise Suzumebachi sent out a pulse of spiritual energy through their connection that seemed almost… angry.
"Looks like your zanpakuto wants to keep me around, Captain," Grimmjow said with a smile as another homonka bloomed no more than a millimeter away from the original. Soi Fon was furious, but in the deepest corner of that fury there was an inkling of relief; Suzumebachi had forced her to shift the strike ever so slightly at the last possible moment, saving Grimmjow's life.
"If it makes you feel any better, your little tattoos can't kill me," Jaegerjaques said, smirking at Soi Fon's look of disbelief.
"What?"
"I've already died once, woman," he explained, "and I've got demon energy in my reiatsu now; it's part of my life-force, even if it is just a trace amount. Your little trick is impressive, but not enough to bring down someone like me!"
Soi Fon snarled, hauling her battered body upright and staring daggers at her rival.
"You dare to call my powers a 'trick'? I'll show you what true power really is, you bastard! Bankai!"
The force of the reiatsu that was unleashed made Grimmjow draw his sword out of habit, but he did not release it. Planting his feet and refusing to give an inch to this admittedly determined woman, the former sixth Espada grit his teeth and waited for the smoke to clear. When it did, even Grimmjow couldn't keep his mouth from opening slightly at the sight before him.
Soi Fon was standing tall, both of her arms clad in the armor of Suzumebachi up to her shoulder on the outside, the inside of her arms still bare. Every one of her fingers was now covered in a pointed blade, and her feet were covered in armor as well, with a single spike coming out from the tip of each foot. It was perfectly suited to hand-to-hand combat, and even if the homonka couldn't bring him down, Grimmjow knew that he had to start taking this feisty bitch seriously or he was going to be in a whole lot of pain.
"Oojo Suzumebachi," Soi Fon called out. "This is the purest expression of my power, the threat of suffocating death striking out at you from every angle until you can't even breathe under the pressure. When that time comes, all I have to do is strike with two fingers and you're finished. Prepare yourself, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques!"
Grimmjow barely had time to note that she had called him by his name before he had to buzz out of the way of a full-bore strike from Soi Fon, the wind generated by the attack cutting a gash across his face. Quickly reevaluating his opponent, Jaegerjaques readied Pantera and disappeared.
"Too slow!"
Soi Fon could follow his sonido now, and was already turning to strike when the telltale head of hair appeared in her peripheral vision.
"Oh really?" Grimmjow said snidely, blocking the strike with his zanpakuto and readying a blast of cero in his free hand.
"Dodge this, bitch," he growled, letting go of the pent-up energy at the Second Division Captain point-blank. While he waited for the smoke to clear, the former sixth Espada couldn't help but feel a twinge of something in the back of his mind. He chalked it up to regret that his most promising opponent since Ichigo had gone down so quickly, but there was another facet to the feeling that he couldn't classify.
"Stop daydreaming, Grimmjow!"
What the fuck?
Jaegerjaques had a mere second to shift his sword to behind his back as Soi Fon's right hand collided with his zanpakuto, the screech of steel-on-steel echoing in the room as she tried to force her way through the only thing keeping her from victory.
"You're done, Espada," Soi Fon whispered heatedly as she brought her other hand to rest at Grimmjow's neck, the points of Suzumebachi less than a half inch from his pulsing jugular. The blue-haired warrior was slammed by a sudden surge of animal instinct he hadn't felt since his days as an adjuchas: part of him wanted to unleash Pantera and rend this annoying wasp to shreds, and the other part of him wanted to grab her, throw her down to the floor and…
"You should have followed through on that strike, woman," he half-growled in a voice that held so many tempestuous emotions it almost made the Captain's knees buckle as her pupils dilated, responding to her opponent's primal instinct. Before she could rein herself back in, Soi Fon found Grimmjow behind her, the blade of Pantera against the skin of her neck and his mouth only inches away from her ear.
"Do you yield?" he whispered in a voice that resonated deep in Soi Fon's marrow, grabbing hold of her restraints and ripping them to ribbons. As if the rapid beating of her own pulse wasn't enough to make her focus dull, the fact that Pantera was thrumming in perfect unison made it hard to even see straight.
"Do you yield, Soi Fon?" the voice asked again, saying her name with such barely-repressed desire she gasped inaudibly at its raw force. Not wanting to give her rival the satisfaction of hearing her say it, but unable to resist any further, Suzumebachi took the leap for her as the Captain's bankai vanished into the wind. It left Soi Fon feeling as exposed as she'd felt in her life, but for some reason she didn't mind one bit. Seeing that his opponent had given her answer, Grimmjow withdrew his blade from her throat and pounced.
In the blink of an eye, Soi Fon found herself on the matted floor of the dojo, her arms pinned to her sides as Grimmjow's blue eyes stared down at her with a searing combination of lust and admiration.
"I gotta hand it to ya, woman," he said as he eyed Soi Fon's heaving chest appreciatively, "you gave me the best fight I've had in a while. Been a long time since my blood's gotten that hot, and I fought some pretty fierce duels in Hell. But there's somethin' about you that just…"
The blue-haired warrior was unceremoniously cut off as Soi Fon pushed out of his grip, driven by her most basic instincts. Soon he was the one looking up into a pair of eyes, the steely gray orbs smoldering with willpower that made Grimmjow's blood scream in need.
"Just shut up," she growled, lunging down and capturing his mouth with her own. Jaegerjaques responded with unchained fervor, and the two of them battled back and forth for a full minute before breaking apart, near-breathless.
"I guess having you as a Lieutenant wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," Soi Fon conceded, "but it might take some arguing before the other Soul Reapers would be willing to accept an arrancar into their ranks."
"Screw 'em," Grimmjow shot back, his eyes slightly hazy. "They don't like it, I'll just beat the shit out of 'em until they do. Besides, you don't have to worry about giving me those robes just yet, anyway."
Soi Fon cocked an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Why not?"
"I'm probably going to have to fight a duel this afternoon," he said casually, as if it was going to be as difficult as breathing, "so you can hold off on paying up until I get back with that bastard Tenebros' head."
Soi Fon nodded gravely, a warrior's understanding glimmering in her eyes as she was confident in his victory while simultaneously coming to grips with the fact that he might not come back.
"Don't give me that bullshit," he said harshly, shocking the Captain out of her introspection. "Do you think I'd really go off and die right after I've found someone to beat the crap out of on a regular basis?"
A competitive gleam came back to Soi Fon's face and she grinned, something in her eyes putting Grimmjow on edge.
"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Lieutenant," she said, and Grimmjow smiled in kind.
"Yes, Sir," he replied, suddenly wishing that he'd pushed for more than a month. All the same, something told him that by the end of his term, she wouldn't want anyone else under her.
Or on top of her, for that matter, he thought as his grin widened.
This was going to be a fun month.
Ulquiorra entered the room with a whisper, toning down the force of his sonido in case Neliel was still asleep.
"What took you so long?" a decidedly adult voice asked from across the room, and Schiffer turned to behold a fully-grown Neliel Tu, clad in a Soul Reaper's kimono and eyeing him quizzically.
"There was a pressing matter that required my attention," he replied evenly, not looking her in the eye.
"I see," the former Third Espada said, advancing towards him slowly but surely.
"But I can imagine that the preparations for battle are still underway," Neliel continued, her calm voice cutting to the heart of the matter as usual,
"So why are you here, Ulquiorra?"
"There was… another pressing matter that required my attention."
Nel was within arm's length of Schiffer at this point, and put a hand on the top of his Hollow fragment.
"Was? Or still is?"
Ulquiorra tried to push himself away, but found that he suddenly lacked the strength to do so. Neliel's other hand perched itself on his shoulder and she looked right into his piercing green eyes.
"Stop running, Ulquiorra," she said, gently but firmly. "If you keep all of those emotions bottled up inside you, they'll crush your heart like a grape."
"Something like me has no need for a heart," he said sharply, but Nel didn't budge.
"Yes, Ulquiorra," she insisted, his first name sounding almost alien coming from her, so full of emotion that Schiffer did not dare let show, "someone like you does."
She tightened her grip on his shoulder and moved forward, placing a gentle kiss on the former fourth Espada's pale lips. He went as rigid as a statue, thin pupils narrowing even further, but he did not reciprocate. Nel sensed his inner turmoil and, not wanting to make things awkward, broke off the embrace.
"What's wrong?"
"Not now…" Schiffer mumbled. "I cannot afford to be weighed down in such a way, not before I have fought my duel…"
Neliel's eyes softened in understanding.
"So you have come to say goodbye, Ulquiorra? To cut out your heart, and abandon it? Fine. If that is your choice, I cannot stop you. But can I ask you to do one thing, before you go?"
Schiffer's expression relaxed by the smallest of fractions.
"Name it."
"If you have resolved to leave your heart behind, then leave it with me."
"Neliel…"
"I'll take good care of it, I promise," she said with a bittersweet smile. "And when you come back, it'll be here waiting for you. As will I, Ulquiorra."
The green-eyed former Espada stayed silent for several heartbeats, before reaching out and tracing the scar on Neliel's face with his forefinger. The green-haired arrancar shivered under the unexpectedly delicate touch, but as soon as it had come it had vanished.
"I will hold you to that promise, Neliel Tu Oderschvank." It was the first time he had used her full name. Nel gasped and looked up, but Ulquiorra was gone.
"You had better come back, Ulquiorra," she said, gazing out at the horizon, "or Gods help me I'll kill you myself."
"Are you four ready?" Callos asked, and the elite demons all nodded.
"Good. We will leave presently."
"My Lord Callos!"
Famine ran up to the Prince and bowed hastily before raising his head. Callos, however, was more interested in the fly buzzing around his head.
"I did not tell you to come, Famine. Your fight is not with the Soul Reapers."
"But then what…?"
"Silence. I have an even more important mission for you, Horseman. You are to take three of our five legions and pass through to the Human World. Once you are there, cause as much destruction as you deem needed to gain the attention of the Soul Reapers. They will be obliged to split their forces in half to deal with the threat, and that combined with the fact that four of their strongest fighters will be dead by sundown all but seals their doom. Now go, and make the skies weep."
Famine nodded rapidly, his wasted eyes shining even brighter than usual. It had been a long, long time since he'd had the opportunity to gorge himself like this, and he was going to feast on those tasty human souls like there was no tomorrow. Which there wouldn't be; not for them.
As the lanky Horseman vanished, Callos turned to his remaining elite and grinned.
"It is time."
Death's body had been sealed away in the deepest recesses of the compound that had once housed Central 46, the spear that Hollow Ichigo had driven through it still gruesomely in place. As if by some trigger, however, the body jerked twice and dissipated into reiatsu, the beginning of the reincarnation cycle to determine the next demon who would be crowned Death. A part of that reiatsu broke off, however, repulsed by the rest of it. This reiatsu had not been part of Death originally, after all:
It had belonged to Sosuke Aizen.
Pulled by some unseen force, all of the demonic reiatsu in the room dove through the ground and vanished, followed closely by Aizen's own reiatsu.
The Gate of the Seireitei had been repaired and the Captains stood in front of the walls, awaiting the demonic horde. Saika, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow stood the furthest from the walls, centering themselves for the duels they knew to be coming. Soi Fon had her eyes trained on Grimmjow, but when a report passed to her through a reiatsu bridge, she looked over to the other Captains and shouted.
"We've spotted the standard!"
Toshiro was off like a crossbow bolt, fairly shrieking through the air as he flew to see what was on the horizon. When he returned and alighted next to an apprehensive Momo, the look on his face was one of puzzlement.
"There are only five warriors under the standard."
"What?"
"Why would they bring so few to fight us?"
"Do they really think we're that weak?"
"Those bastards, we'll show 'em!"
Ulquiorra wasn't paying any attention to the ramblings of the excited and nervous Soul Reapers nearby; eyes closed and deep in thought, the former fourth Espada was trying to discern just who the approaching enemies were. A shield around their presence had made it tricky work, but Schiffer got around it in a few moments. When he had positively identified their enemies, he relaxed and his eyes opened.
"It's them, but Famine seems to be missing."
Saika nodded, wondering just what his brother was up to. He had an idea, but now wasn't the time to be throwing troops around based on unproven suspicions.
"Captain Ukitake," he said forcefully, and the white-haired Captain looked over.
"Yes, Saika?"
"Get everyone lower than Captain class inside the walls of the Seireitei, save Rukia Kuchiki and Renji Abarai." Aron was about to add Ikkaku to the list, as he had achieved bankai, but the look in the Lieutenant's eyes begged him not to, and Saika relented.
"But…" Momo protested, not wanting to leave Toshiro's side in his hour of need.
"Momo Hinamori," Aron said as gently as he could while remaining steeled for battle, "while I can understand your desire to be close to those whom you care about as they fight, if you do not wish to die I would advise that you enter the Seireitei and do not come out until it is safe."
Momo made to protest, but Hitsugaya's hand on her shoulder stilled her voice at once.
"Momo, I'll be fine. Trust me. You stay safe; I promise I'll come back to you."
The last part was a whisper meant only for her, and Momo understood the weight Toshiro placed on his oath. Nodding hesitantly, Hinamori began to walk towards the Gate with the other Lieutenants before turning around and rushing into Toshiro's arms, giving him one last soul-burning kiss.
"For luck," she said, blushing, before flash-stepping away to escape the wide-eyed stares of the crowd. Everyone was glad that Momo finally seemed to be out from under Aizen's thumb, but they'd never expected her to be that… aggressive. Matsumoto ruffled Hinamori's hair affectionately when she appeared, but Momo just frowned and smacked her hand away, blushing as a loving smile crept over her frown as she relived the last few moments.
Come back safe, Toshiro.
When the area was clear of everyone except for the most powerful of the Soul Reapers, Saika turned and addressed them.
"Three of the five warriors approaching us will immediately challenge myself, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow to separate duels. We will force them to move as far away from here as possible, leaving you to deal with the two Horsemen. War may seem to be the only real threat, but I urge you not to underestimate Pestilence; his strikes are craven, but they are far from harmless and his accuracy is without peer."
The Soul Reapers all prepared themselves mentally one final time for the battle to come. All of them, that is, except for Ichigo, whose gaze was fixed worriedly on a short, raven-haired Soul Reaper.
"Kurosaki Ichigo."
The orange-haired Soul Reaper turned to find himself facing Byakuya Kuchiki, who had his hand resting readily on the hilt of Senbonsakura. Ichigo glanced at the sword for a moment, but when it became clear that Byakuya was not about to start sparring, he relaxed.
"Yeah, Byakuya?"
"Do you love Rukia?"
He had not been expecting that question at all, but Ichigo held his ground under Byakuya's iron gaze and nodded.
"Yeah, I do. What of it?"
"If that is true, then act like it and have faith in her."
His brown eyes widened for a moment, but then returned to normal. Ichigo saw the truth in Byakuya'a words and they eased his mind, but as he opened his mouth to reply he saw that the Kuchiki Lord had vanished.
"Thank you, Byakuya," he said anyway. "I needed that."
Soon enough the five hellish warriors were within kido range, and Saika felt his heartbeat speed up despite himself as his brother's grinning face came in to view. Callos soon took a few more steps forward, flanked by Tenebros and Malachi.
"Saika Rovinarus," he said, "I challenge you to meet me on the field of battle for the sacred contest of might known as morituri. Do you accept?"
"I do," Saika said solemnly. "May our blades speak for us, and our wills decide who shall be left standing when the storm is calm and the night has fallen."
The brothers vanished with a crack, leaving Ulquiorra and Grimmjow staring down their respective opponents. Malachi gave Ulquiorra a half bow.
"Shall we?"
The two stoics disappeared as well, and Grimmjow flashed Tenebros a murderous grin.
"I'm gonna enjoy evisceratin' you, wannabe!" he called out, and the last pair flickered away.
The two Horsemen that remained looked over the faces of the Captains before them, sizing them up.
"Well, this is quite rude of us, Pestilence," War rumbled, and the scabby Horseman looked over at his comrade curiously.
"What is, War?"
"We can't fight a duel against more than one opponent; that just wouldn't be right. But then what are the rest of these Soul Reapers going to do? They don't strike me as the type of people who like standing around."
Pestilence grinned widely, a gesture that sent shivers down a few of the Captains' spines.
"You know, War," he said, "I think you have a point there. Fortunately, I have the solution to the problem!"
The disease-ridden Horseman clapped his hands powerfully and the two remaining legions of demons shimmered into existence around them; they had been hidden under a field of some kind until now to mask their presence, only to emerge once the three most experienced demon fighters had been removed from play.
"Damn, there's a lot of them," Renji swore, readying Zabimaru. "Maybe we shouldn't have recalled the Lieutenants after all, huh?"
The Captains all wordlessly agreed with that sentiment, but it was too late for regrets to cloud their minds. Pestilence looked over the faces of his enemies, looking for one in particular. When he found him, the Horseman began to ready his bow and smiled.
"Eeiny, Meanie, Miney, Mo," he sang in a grating, high-pitched voice, "I'll fight you, Ju-shi-ro!"
Before the white-haired Captain could even blink, two arrows were racing towards him, shot from the bow he hadn't even seen get fired. His eyes widened in horror as he saw where the arrows were headed:
Right for his Soul Chain and Soul Sleep.
It was only thanks to millennia of training that Ukitake was able to deflect the arrow lunging towards the heart of his spiritual energy, but the one targeting his Soul Chain found its mark. Staggering, Jushiro found himself coughing up blood. Pestilence laughed, his eyes gleaming with hate.
"You feel it, don't you, child?" he hissed. "That boiling in your blood, the disease rising up and threatening to burn the life from your marrow? If I wanted to, I could accelerate it and kill you right now, but I think I'll let you suffer for a bit longer before the end."
With that he sunk two more arrows into the Thirteenth Division Captain, one for each shoulder. At his sudden cries of pain, the rest of the Soul Reapers were galvanized into action and leapt into the fray, some rushing to combat the demon horde while others faced down the Horsemen, murder in their resolve. Kyoraku scooped up his friend and vanished in an instant, no doubt hurrying to the Fourth Division as fast as he could. Pestilence gazed over the eyes of those who had stayed maliciously, imagining each and every one of them writhing in the grip of the plague he carried within his bones. One face stood out to him, though, and he locked eyes with the regal Kuchiki.
"I know I know you from somewhere," he said, recognizing the strength of the stare but not quite remembering where he had last seen it. Byakuya scoffed.
"I doubt I would ever have associated with garbage like you, demon." The look of disgust in his eyes was palpable, but it shifted to one of wariness when Pestilence began to giggle, the noise soon blooming into an all-out cackle.
"Oh, I remember now!" he said. "I wonder how I could ever have forgotten. After all, she was one of the sweetest souls I've ever claimed. So wracked by guilt and inadequacy… Gods, she was delicious."
"What are you babbling about?" Byakuya asked calmly, even as his heart began to beat almost imperceptibly faster in his chest. Pestilence grinned toothily, and replied. The voice that came out of his mouth, however, wasn't his.
It was Hisana Kuchiki's.
"Oh, Byakuya," he mimicked, as Rukia's eyes widened in horror and Byakuya's narrowed in indescribable rage, "these last five years have been like a dream to me…" Pestilence broke off his twisted mockery and laughed manically, his grating voice dominant once again.
"She succumbed so quickly to my illness it was sad. What a worthless whore."
Byakuya had drawn Senbonsakura and readied it for shikai before he was even aware he had done it. Right as he was about to release it, though, a white blur flashed in the corner of his eye and Rukia engaged the Horseman, bringing Sode no Shirayuki down with a fury neither her brother nor Ichigo had thought her capable of.
"Why?" She shouted, tears running down her cheeks as she pushed against the bow that was blocking her blade and refused to give.
"Why did you kill my sister, you bastard!?"
Pestilence smirked.
"Because it amused me."
"Dance, Sode no Shirayuki. Tsukishiro!"
The white ring surrounded the Horseman and soon shot up in a massive pillar of ice. The prison hung in space for a moment, a crystallization of Rukia's blind rage, before shattering into countless glittering shards that made diamonds seem dull by comparison. Where she had expected to see nothing more than a pile of icicles, however, the young Kuchiki was shocked to see Pestilence standing tall and brushing some white crystals off of his shoulder. The only sign that he had even been hit by an attack was his slightly labored breathing and a few cuts on his chest. Rukia couldn't believe it; her bankai had never failed to be more than enough power, and yet this monster had taken a direct hit like it was nothing. What was going on?
The Horseman cackled as if he could read Rukia's thoughts.
"No, you're not going crazy," he taunted, his head cocked to the side. "I'm just that powerful. Now, what do you say we send you off to meet your sister? I'm sure she's just dying to see you!"
Pestilence grinned with insane bloodlust as the twang of a bowstring sounded yet again. Rukia closed her eyes tightly and waited for the end, but it never came. Opening her eyes hesitantly, Rukia's expression of fear gave way quickly to one of surprise and relief.
"Nii-sama…"
A shroud of rose-colored, petal-looking blades fluttered all around Rukia, keeping her safe from harm. A second later she found herself in Ichigo's arms, snatched away from the jaws of the Horseman by the fastest flash-steps anyone had ever seen.
"Are you all right, Rukia?"
The Kuchiki princess looked up into those brown eyes she knew so well and smiled, nodding. The look of relief on Ichigo's face faded as soon as he released her, replaced by stone-cold anger. He pulled on his mask and was about to go teach Pestilence a new definition of pain when an arm reached across his chest, stopping him. Ichigo looked over and was about to chew out the person who had stopped him when he froze, his Vizard eyes widening in a rare expression of fear. Byakuya Kuchiki's voice was so cold in that moment it would have frozen Hyorinmaru solid.
"This one is mine, Kurosaki Ichigo."
The orange-haired warrior thought he had seen fury in its purest form when he had fought his Hollow, a creature driven exclusively by raw, impulsive emotions. Looking into the murderous slits that Byakuya Kuchiki's normally impassive grey eyes had become, Ichigo realized just how wrong he had been. As Senbonsakura reformed, it let out a sound that everyone who could hear it recognized as a grief-stricken warcry. Even in the face of the advancing Byakuya Kuchiki, Pestilence retained his cocky grin.
"Aw, did I hurt the poor little Soul Reaper's feelings?"
Byakuya was beyond insults, flash-stepping away from the crowd and hissing the only words his mind could form through gritted teeth as soon as Pestilence appeared in front of him.
"Bankai. Senkei Senbonsakura Kageyoshi."
Senbonsakura dropped into the ground with a deep thrum of energy, bypassing the first phase of the bankai completely and creating the dark blue dome that was the Senkei form. Ichigo could only witness the power of the reiatsu it was emanating with awe, vowing to never make Byakuya Kuchiki angry again.
"I would hate to be that freak right now," Renji said, and Yoruichi nodded in agreement; even the Goddess of Flash, who had known Byakuya since they had been kids, was stunned by the strength of his bankai, glowing in the distance as reiatsu clashed within it again and again.
Seeing that his comrade had found someone to duel, War stepped forward and bowed. He might have been the embodiment of carnage, but he was also the manifestation of a warrior's honor.
"Who among you wishes to cross blades with a God?" he asked, and was meant with silence for a moment, until the sound of rumbling laughter to rival his own graced his ears. War looked over to see a face he had kept an eye on for years, and the Horseman smiled.
"Kenpachi Zaraki," he said by way of greeting, and the Captain smiled widely. War brandished his double-bladed sword and spoke.
"It has been too long since I have enjoyed a fight against one such as you. I daresay that if you had been born a demon, I might be in your place, and you in mine. Come, and let us see who is the strongest!"
"You're on!" Zaraki shouted, laughing madly as he clashed with the Horseman far enough away from the walls that there would be no interference in their duel.
"I guess that leaves us on cleanup detail," Ichigo said, and the few Soul Reapers who weren't fighting yet vanished to go assist their comrades with the legionaries.
Ulquiorra and Malachi broke apart yet again, the former of the warriors beginning to sweat. In stark contrast, Malachi stood stock still as blood rolled off of his blade in fat droplets.
"I think this battle has gone on long enough, pretender," Saika's former Captain said evenly, and Schiffer readied himself to defend against another strike. What Malachi had in mind, however, was much worse than that.
"Animate, Saxara."
As Malachi released the spirit of his blade, the rocks all around the two combatants began to coalesce into a golem that was at least 12 feet tall and thickly armored, eyes shining darkly as the energies of the earth that had been corrupted flowed into the form, giving it power and substance.
"Kill him."
The golem lunged forward with a primal groan, bringing both fists slamming down on Ulquiorra's head. Malachi allowed himself a rare smirk, but when the dust cleared from his attack it quickly vanished.
"Impossible…"
Schiffer was still alive, having released his zanpakuto to block the strike. Rising from one knee, the former fourth Espada kept one hand on his zanpakuto and began to charge up a gran rey cero with his other one.
"Impossible?" He said, his tone perfectly calm. "A worm like you defeating someone like me is what is impossible."
A blinding burst of green light that put the aurora borealis to shame ripped through the golem, leaving nothing more than a pile of ashes and dust in its place. Malachi felt fear shoot through him for the first time in his life, but he mastered it quickly.
"I will not submit," he said, raising his sword and shifting the point towards himself. "I will not surrender to a half-breed like you, not while I still draw breath!"
Malachi plunged his blade into his heart, and for a moment it seemed like he had committed honorable suicide. But that notion was quickly dispelled when the sword liquefied, merging with his body and filling in all of his scars.
"What is this?" Ulquiorra asked, readying Carnefice and assuming a defensive stance. Malachi waited until the melding was complete, and then he replied in a smug tone.
"I have truly become one with my sword," he said, flexing his silver-streaked fist and causing a spire of rock to rise from the ground. "Its powers are now mine, completely and totally. Bear witness to my true strength, Ulquiorra Schiffer, and know the face of annihilation."
Ulquiorra narrowly avoided getting skewered by unleashing a mezzaluna wave purely on reflex, but a shard of rock still embedded itself in his sword arm's shoulder.
"Damn it," he cursed, pushing Malachi's laughter out of his mind as he thought up a counter attack.
"There are no counters for my attacks in this form, Schiffer," his rival called out. "As the earth surrounds you, so do I. As is lies below your feet every moment you touch the ground, so do I. I will swallow you whole, pretender!"
Malachi raised both hands, causing Ulquiorra to be isolated on a single circle of rock as the rest of the earth around him rose into the air and morphed into massive spikes.
"Let's see if Saika will still recognize your corpse after I tear it into a thousand pieces!"
Ulquiorra felt the sun cease to shine upon his face, and he sighed. There was no helping it now; he had to break the promise he had made to himself the day he had been transformed into an arrancar. The former fourth Espada relaxed his resurreccion, slamming the now normal-looking katana into the ground. Closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath, he put his hands to his temples just as the rocks consumed him.
"How many of these bastards are there?" Ichigo shouted, cleaving through what felt like the millionth fork-tongued monstrosity.
"Just shut up and keep fighting, Ichigo!" Renji called back, but both of them crouched instinctively when the aftershock of Byakuya's unchained reiatsu hit them at the same time as an echo of Zaraki's fully unsealed energy. The force of the combined shocks alone was enough to shear the demons in front of the Soul Reapers in half, and the two friends stood up slowly.
"Damn…"
Ichigo turned around just in time to see a demon lunging at him with a sword aimed at his neck, but before the Soul Reaper could defend himself his enemy found itself impaled on the end of a very sharp lance.
"Watch your back, Ichigo!" Neliel called to him before galloping off.
"It's hard to imagine that's the same kid we found in Hueco Mundo," Renji said, and Ichigo could only nod, exhaling in relief.
"You got that right."
Yoruichi and Urahara stood back-to-back, still besieged by demons and beginning to break sweats.
"This is just like old times, eh, Kisuke?" the Shihoin princess said with a smirk, and the 12th Division Captain allowed himself a small chuckle. The sound promptly died in his throat, though, when he heard Sajin Komamura give out an anguished roar. Setting his mouth in a grim line, Urahara decided to end this skirmish here and now.
"This has gone far enough, Yoruichi," he said to his best friend. "Get everyone at least 100 yards away from me, now."
Yoruichi's eyes widened as she realized what Kisuke planned to do, and she shivered.
"Kisuke," she said, her tone pleading, "you don't have to…"
"Do it."
She could hear Benihime seeping into his voice, and the golden-eyed princess knew that he had passed the point of no return. Sighing sadly, Yoruichi vanished from her friend's side and rounded up all of the Captains and other friendly combatants, flash-stepping them as far away from Urahara as she could. As Ichigo squirmed in her surprisingly strong grip, he shouted at his former teacher.
"What're you doing, Yoruichi? Put me down; I have a battle to fight!"
"This battle is no longer yours to fight, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya said with deadly seriousness. "And even if it was, you wouldn't want to be one step closer than you are now to Kisuke Urahara's bankai."
"His… bankai?" Ichigo repeated, confused. "But he said…"
"That it could not be used to train, or to give power," Yourichi finished. "That is because it is a force of pure destruction, Ichigo. Oketsu Hayate…
"The Dark Blood Hurricane."
Ichigo watched in awe-struck horror as the man he knew as an eccentric shopkeeper rose into the air, his haori stained with streaks of dark crimson and his normally slate-gray eyes shifting to match them. When he had risen high enough, he spoke with a harsh, yet chillingly musical tone; it was his own voice blended with that of his zanpakuto: Benihime, the Red Princess.
"Your blood gives you great power," he said, "power scum such as yourselves do not deserve. Give it to me, and gaze into the abyss of your own destruction!"
The possessed form that was Kisuke Urahara flexed his outstretched palms, literally ripping the blood from the veins of the demons below him. The black liquid rose into the air at the bidding of its new master, where it began to rotate in a circle around him. The building storm gained more and more strength as more demonic blood rose to join it, and after a few moments it eerily resembled a Hurricane.
"I see you have some strength left in you yet," Urahara said maliciously as he gazed down upon his prey, the demons that were holding onto what was left of their reiatsu in a desperate attempt to survive.
"Let us remedy that, shall we?"
As the blood in the air began to spin faster and faster lighting formed out of friction, and soon enough the storm was moving fast enough to be a blur, black lightning striking down on the ground below with reckless abandon. Three quarters of the combined two legions were obliterated in moments, but before the final blow could be struck, the storm stopped moving entirely. The droplets of blood froze still in the air, and Ichigo couldn't help but wonder what Urahara could possibly be thinking stopping his attack.
The orange-haired Soul Reaper didn't have to wait long for the answer.
The droplets of blood elongated into spikes and hardened, and for a brief moment the Captain was surrounded by thousand upon thousands of razor-sharp spears. With an unholy smirk he brought his upraised arms down, and the spears screamed forward. Yoruichi closed her eyes and could not restrain a pair of tears; she hated seeing her kind, compassionate friend transformed into this monster more than anything in the world. The skies cleared and Urahara sunk back down to the earth, his haori once more a pure white. All that remained in the wake of his wrathful bankai was a field of corpses, a grim testament to his true power. Yoruichi was by his side in a flash to support her friend as he staggered from exhaustion, mumbling only two words before passing out entirely:
"Never again…"
Yoruichi sighed in grief, and hoped that they could obtain peace in Soul Society for long enough that Kisuke would be able to keep his oath.
Byakuya was torn and bloodied, but he did not feel the pain. His heart was pounding, but he was heedless of the buzzing in his ears. All that he knew was rage, and the adrenaline that kept him on his feet. Pestilence was lacerated from head-to-toe, Senbonsakura's merciless steel having left its mark on him with sadistic pleasure. The Horseman was directly responsible for the only event that had ever truly broken her master's heart, and the zanpakuto was more than happy to repay the favor a thousand times over. Even the released form of this monster hadn't caused Byakuya to as much as flinch when he had felt its reiatsu, but as the battle had worn on the duel had taken its toll. When the Kuchiki noble felt the strength ebbing swiftly out of him through his multiple wounds and he saw the edges of his vision go blurry, Byakuya knew it was time to end this duel. He did not want to die before he had claimed his vengeance.
"Shuhei Senbonsakura Kageyoshi: Hakuteiken."
Pestilence could only stare in fear and struggle against the myriad swords piercing his flesh as the rest of Senbonsakura faded into wisps and flowed into Byakuya's battered form, granting him the power for one final, devastating strike. White energy pulsed around him in the form of wings and a halo at his back, and the bloodied Captain charged towards his enemy at full tilt. Pestilence's final, anguished howl did not reach Byakuya's ears as he collapsed, exhausted and fading rapidly.
Hisana, my love, it is done, he thought out into the ether as his eyes fluttered closed.
Rukia moved faster than she ever had before and scooped up her brother's form, terrified by its lightness. Dashing like a madwoman to the Fourth Division Headquarters, she found herself face-to-face with an uncommonly haggard-looking Captain Unohana. The Captain's eyes widened as she took in Byakuya Kuchiki's eviscerated body, her fatigue replaced at once by adrenaline.
"Put him down on a bed over there, Rukia," she said, preparing her strongest healing kido.
"Is he going to be okay?" the younger Kuchiki asked nervously, and Unohana was silent for several moments as she surveyed the damage, leaving her Lieutenant to look after Captain Ukitake.
"He will live," Unohana said after several tense moments, "but during the initial stages of treatment I am going to have to insist on no interruptions whatsoever."
Rukia nodded, not wanting to leave her brother's side but knowing that Captain Unohana was doing her utmost to save his life. She vanished before tears came to her eyes, and Retsu sighed at the thought of the discord and heartbreak war always carried with it.
"You have several infections and a few viruses coursing through your system, not to mention severe blood loss and multiple broken bones," she said, as much to herself as to Byakuya. "Captain Kuchiki, what did you get yourself into this time?"
"H—Hisana," he rasped, in a brief moment of lucidity, before the darkness took him once again. Unohana smiled sadly, her eyes glimmering with rare tears.
"I see," she said, beginning to treat the wounds on his legs with glowing hands.
"Well, wherever she is, Captain, I have no doubt that she is proud of you."
Byakuya's eyes twitched in his sleep before relaxing, and Unohana's smile widened.
Malachi had expected his rival to be crushed, pulverized and utterly obliterated as soon as his attack closed in on the green-eyed former Espada, but instead he found his knees buckling slightly in fear as the sphere of rock exploded outwards. Ulquiorra stood in the epicenter of the blast, his fingers still on his temples. The first change Malachi noticed was a subtle one; the scars running down from Schiffer's eyes had changed from green to black. When the former fourth Espada opened his eyes, the demon saw that the change had been reflected in them, as well; Ulquiorra's pupils had become green, and his irises had darkened to black.
"I could have been one of the top three Espada, if I had wished it," he said, "but I found it more advantageous to possess control over a smaller amount of power than to have no control over a massive amount. So I carved in these restraints," here he motioned to the black scars running down from his eyes, "and vowed never to break their seals unless absolutely necessary. For, as I am sure even someone as idiotic as you can realize, to lose control of yourself on the field of battle is tantamount to defeat."
Malachi was unmoved by Ulquiorra's words, and snarled.
"Shut up and die, you trash!" he shouted as he charged, and Schiffer twisted his mouth in a rare smirk.
"That's my line," the former Espada quipped, shoving his hand through Malachi's chest just as his blade touched Ulquiorra's helmet. Feeling something pulsing in his hand, Schiffer raised an eyebrow.
"Strange," he said emotionlessly as Malachi choked on his own blood and bile, "I did not think you would possess a heart."
Ulquiorra dropped the faintly pulsing organ to the ground and made to withdraw his arm, but Malachi reached out with his free hand and held it still.
"If I am to die," he rasped out with his last, strained breaths, "then you are going with me!"
Focusing the rest of his demonic reiatsu into his sword, Malachi forced it down with the last of his strength and died before he hit the ground. But as he fell, so did white fragments resembling shards of bone.
Ulquiorra's Hollow mask remnants had been shattered.
"No…" The green-eyed former Espada whispered as he staggered back, clutching his head. He could already feel it beginning in his soul: the regression. Without his fragment, he was doomed to turn back into a Hollow, the ignominious fate that had befallen Dondochakka and Pesche, Nel's former Fraccion. His eyes shifted back to their normal colors and the pupils began to dilate and contract randomly, Ulquiorra's vaunted self-control quickly slipping as he struggled against the primal instincts rising up to swallow him. If he became a Hollow again… he didn't even want to think about the consequences of that. He would never be able to become a Vasto Lorde again, let alone a Gillian, and the Soul Reapers would probably kill him on sight once he was no longer of any use to them. And Nel…
His memories of her flashed across his mind like shooting stars, precious, fleeting jewels being swallowed up in the relentless night that spread across his being. He needed to stem the tide somehow, to stop the encroaching darkness and retain control of his will, but he lacked the strength, the power…
No.
As long as he had the will, he had the power. He had too much to do, too much to live for to give in to something so base. Reaching deep within himself to the demonic power he had inherited upon his death and descent into Hell, he threw open the gate that separated the bulk of it from the rest of his being, which until now had only possessed traces of it. He had been proud, determined to destroy his enemies without resorting to this power he perceived as a crutch.
But the time for pride was over: this was a matter of survival, pure and simple.
As if he was in someone else's body observing what was happening to him, Ulquiorra watched in grim satisfaction as the fiery orange reiatsu beat back the dark waves and forced them into submission, reining them in before banishing them to a deep corner of his soul. His being had returned to equilibrium, but the demonic energy that coursed through him now was foreign, and untamed; he would have to work hard to master it, but that could come later. His right hand sought out Carnefice out of habit and, to his shock, came up empty; his left then hesitantly moved up to where his Holllow Hole had been and felt smooth, whole flesh.
His lack of a zanpakuto and Hollow Hole unnerved him, but he let the feeling pass; for now, he was relieved to be sentient. Reflecting as he ran both of his hands through his slick hair, Ulquiorra saw that if Saika had not bolstered him with demonic reiatsu when he had made him his Captain, the former Espada would not have possessed the strength needed to master his own Hollow instincts. Looking east, towards where he felt Aron's reiatsu engaged in a vicious clash with Callos, Schiffer bowed his head in respect and gratitude.
"Thank you, Aron-sama," he said, his eyes returned to their normal green hue and glinting in the sun. "I, Ulquiorra Schiffer, swear that I will repay my debt to you, even if it takes a thousand lifetimes."
Placing his hand over where his Hollow Hole had been to seal his promise, the former fourth Espada and ex-arrancar vanished, wondering just what it was that he had become.
Grimmjow was pissed, but he was also a little bit grateful. He was pissed because the fucking pansy in front of him had managed to slash him up pretty good despite him having released Pantera, but he was grateful because at least his woman wasn't here to see it.
Yeah, he considered that feisty Captain his woman. He had beaten her into submission, after all. Anyone who had a problem with that would have to face him personally, and he wasn't about to let go of the first decent piece of ass he'd had in ages. That, and he'd be seeing a lot of her in the future as her temporary Lieutenant.
Which was another reason why Grimmjow was pissed; he was so close to a month of pure, animalistic bliss he could taste it, and yet this bastard Tenebros seemed hell-bent on denying him his right. As he felt the blood trickling down the bridge of his nose, he snarled.
"What's wrong, Grimmjow?" the demon taunted, licking the small trail of blood that ran down his own chin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were slipping."
"Like hell!"
Jaegerjaques charged, feinting at the last moment and launching four darts from his elbow. One caught Tenebros right in the sternum, but the demon dodged the others by fractions of an inch.
"Bastard…" he grunted, yanking the barb from his chest and shattering it.
"I'm not done yet," Grimmjow hissed, taking advantage of his opponent's lapse and slashing a deep gash across Tenebros' chest. The demon hacked up blood and staggered back, disbelieving.
"I'm not—about to lose—to a half-breed usurper like you, Grimmjow! Fracture, Schisan!"
The former sixth Espada's eyes went wide as Tenebros broke into pieces before his eyes, each shard floating in the air and gleaming like a blade.
"What's wrong, Grimmjow?" a disembodied voice hissed. "Afraid you can't fight all of me at once?"
"No," the blue-haired warrior replied, smirking "you just look so fucked up that I lost my concentration for a second."
"Silence!"
The shards rushed at Jaegerjaques like a hailstorm on steroids, swarming him and carving gaps into his white armor like a hot knife slashing through butter. The storm of Tenebros' released form continued for a few moments before relenting, backing off when Grimmjow was so wounded that his resurreccion form had disappeared on its own. Tenebros floated back together, cracking his neck twice when the gathering was complete.
"Man, that gets me every time," he groaned. "You have no idea what it's like to be so many places at once; straight-up discombobulating, I tell ya," Tenebros continued as he paced slowly towards the downed warrior, savoring the smell of his blood and relishing the feeling surging through his veins before the kill. Standing over the former Espada, Tenebros sneered.
"Look at you. So pathetic. I can't believe Saika chose you over me; what the hell was that bastard thinking? I should just kill you now, and put you out of your misery."
He raised his blade and gripped the hilt with both hands, preparing to drive it down through Jaegerjaques' back, but the demon stopped when he saw the fragment glinting in the sun on Grimmjow's cheek. Smiling wickedly, Tenebros got an idea.
"That's what's supposed to keep you freaks sane, is it?" he asked. "That bit of mask left over from your more primitive days? What'dya say we see what you're like without a sliver of control, eh, Grimmjow? Maybe then you'll at least be a bit of a challenge, if you can stand up, that is."
Tenebros reached down and gripped the fragment on Grimmjow's jaw and ripped it off, grinning viciously in satisfaction as it crumbled to dust in his hand.
No…!
The blue-haired former Espada had only a moment to react to the searing pain and grimace at his own weakness before chaos overtook his mind, a roiling black storm that threatened to rip down his control and pull him back to the level of the most basic Hollow. If that happened, he was beyond fucked; he had no illusions about what the point of Suzumebachi would do to him then, and he had no desire to be turned to ash by the lethal shikai. Then again, swift death was preferable to holding back this raging flood of nothingness that was quickly devouring his rational control and replacing it with pure impulse. Through his haze, Grimmjow heard Tenebros' acidic voice taunting him.
"Man, your mind is so much easier to read like this, Grimmjow! Hmm, what's taking you so long? What are you holding onto that's preventing you from falling into that chasm where your kind belong? Let's see… well, well, what do we have here? A woman? Really, Grimmjow? That's what you're clinging to? Are you serious?! Then again," Tenebros mused mockingly, resting a hand on his chin, "she's not too bad when it comes to looks. Maybe I should take her for a spin or two, show her what real strength is, if ya catch my drift."
As the full meaning of Tenebros' insinuation crashed down around Grimmjow, something deep inside of him snapped. No way in hell was this bastard going to even think about touching his woman and get away with it, much less live out his sick little fantasies. Jaegerjaques let his righteous fury well up in him, its surging, fiery power pushing back against the advancing waves of Hollowness. For the first time since becoming a Hollow, Grimmjow had been given something of substance to fight for, something to defend. A purpose.
A reason for a soul, even if it was a demonic one.
As the blazing orange typhoon struck out and crushed the pathetic black waves that had almost overcome him and forced them into a tiny sliver of his being, Grimmjow felt a wave of calm pass over him unlike anything he had felt before. He was still sane, but it was more than that.
He was whole.
The demonic powers his commander had bestowed upon him now flowed through his veins as freely as his own blood, giving him the strength to defend what was his by right. As he felt his Hollow Hole gradually disappear, Grimmjow smirked but kept his head down; he needed the element of surprise for this to work. Reaching out with his right hand as quickly as he could, Jaegerjaques powered up a blast of dark orange energy and was about to blow Tenebros' head off until he felt a hand grip his own strongly, forcing his hand to point upwards. Losing control of the energy, Grimmjow felt it shoot up into the sky and heard Tenebros' manic laughter.
"What, are you still trying to fight me? Just shut up and regress already, bastard."
"I was hoping you'd do that," Grimmjow said with murder in his voice, and before Tenebros could blink Jaegerjaques' other hand shot out and broke the demon's left leg clean in half.
"Thanks for leaving yourself so open, asshole," the former arrancar taunted, ignoring Tenebros' screams and cutting them off by grabbing his neck.
"Die."
The sharp sound of the demon's neck snapping brought a sadistic smile to Grimmjow's face, but it also brought him screeching back to reality. A hesitant hand felt the smooth flesh where there had once been a void, checking to see if his transformation had been a temporary thing and quickly realizing that the change had been quite permanent. So what did that make him? He wasn't an arrancar anymore; hell, he was barely even a Hollow, and that was all he had been for a long, long time. The simplest answer was that he was a full demon now, but Grimmjow knew there was more to it than that. Demons were supposed to be devoid of all attachment and positive emotion, but those were the very things that had given him access to this power. Besides, he still had a fragment of Hollow energy left in him, taking the place of the demonic energy that had been locked away in his soul until now.
Too tired for further introspection, Grimmjow rose to his feet and sighed. Noticing with satisfaction that his bleeding was beginning to slow down and stop already, the blue-haired warrior sped towards the Seireitei, heart pounding for a whole different reason.
Kenpachi Zaraki had never fought a more exhilarating or infuriating battle in his life. This guy took all the punishment the Eleventh Division Captain could pour out, and he gave just as good as he got. If he kept getting slashed up like this, he might have to resort to kendo again, like he had against Nnoitra. The Captain shuddered, hoping he wouldn't have to stoop that low to win.
"What's wrong, Kenpachi? Do you wish to take a respite?"
Zaraki gave the Horseman a feral smile, readying his jagged zanpakuto once again.
"Only if you need one, old man."
War laughed, his teeth shining in the light of Kenpachi's reiatsu.
"Very well. Then prepare yourself, young Kenpachi, for I will patronize you no longer. Out of respect for a fellow warrior, I shall fight you now at the peak of my power! Destroy, Rudra!"
Kenpachi flinched at the overwhelming reiatsu that was released as War assumed his true form, but when he opened his eyes again an exasperated look quickly dominated his face.
"Again? Are you kidding me?"
Zaraki had been given enough trouble with Nnoitra's six arms and massive scythes, but even that form paled in the face of what the Eleventh Division Captain was staring at now.
Like the God of Destruction that War's weapon got its name from, the Horseman was now sporting eight arms, each one brandishing an intimidating trident.
"Quiver before my true might, and know how it feels to be engulfed by chaos!"
Kenpachi jacked his reiatsu up to the maximum, but even that only deflected five of the eight strikes. Nine razor-sharp prongs slammed into Zaraki's chest, and he flew away from the Horseman a harsh voice echoed in his head.
Disgusting. If you had only known my name, maybe you wouldn't have disgraced us so shamefully.
Before his zanpakuto could reprimand him any further, darkness wrapped Kenpachi in her arms. Moments later he collided with the wall of the Seireitei, slumping forward with a groan. His fellow Soul Reapers only had a moment to gaze, stunned, at the defeated form of the fearless Eleventh Division Captain before War appeared before them, laughing.
"That felt good," he boomed, flexing his arms as the Soul Reapers looked at him with equal parts awe and abject terror. War gazed down at his opponents and focused on Ichigo, instinctively recognizing that he was the only one out of the group that presented a somewhat-fair fight.
"You, Vizard boy," he said, gesturing the masked Soul Reaper with two of his arms. "Will you be my opponent? I have no interest in crushing flies."
"If you will not battle with flies," an ancient voice that shook with power spoke out,
"Then perhaps you would challenge a dragon?"
The Soul Reapers turned collectively to behold Captain-Commander Yamamoto standing tall, Ryujinn Jakka free of its staff enclosure but not yet aflame. War smiled wide and his eyes flashed, surprised by this turn of events.
"Captain-Commander Shigekuni Yamamoto-Genryusai," the Horseman's voice rumbled happily. "This is quite a surprise! If one as ancient as you has finally tired of your existence, then it would be my pleasure to relieve your withered frame of its cares."
"Your rampage has gone far enough, demon," Yamamoto said forcefully, brushing off the Horseman's insults.
"You have mutilated a man I think of as my own son, brought more than one Captain to the edge of death, and now dare to assume that I will simply let you strike me down? You arrogance is appalling. If you wish to perish in a storm of searing, purifying flame, then I shall make it so. Turn the universe to ash, Ryujinn Jakka!"
Far from being afraid in the face of such dominating reiatsu, War flashed a grin and laughed, his voice like peals of thunder.
"So this is Ryujinn Jakka! I had heard many stories of its strength, but none of those compare to the sight of it. Truly marvelous, and a worthy opponent indeed!"
"If you have time to waste breathing, worm," Yamamoto spoke, "you have already lost this battle."
Yamamoto flash-stepped and appeared behind the Horseman, three of War's eight arms falling off and melting into ash in his wake. The demon roared and spun to face his enemy, but the Captain-Commander had already vanished. Another round of wracking pain lanced through the Horseman as he lost another three arms, leaving him normal save for his tridents and increased reiatsu.
"How…?" War breathed, struggling to surmount his pain and stunned by just how much power the old man possessed.
"There is not a shred of mercy in my heart for those who would attempt to ferment chaos," Yamamoto said harshly as he raised his sword high for one final strike,
"And there is certainly no compassion for a being that is chaos personified."
The Captain-Commander lunged forward and brought his blade crashing down, slicing through War's last feeble block and cutting the Horseman clean in half. He quickly but calmly resealed his zanpakuto and turned to face the other Captains, who were still astonished by the display of power from their Commander.
"Get the wounded inside the walls. Anyone who is capable of it, assist Captain Unohana with her healing efforts."
Most of the Captains vanished immediately, but Yoruichi was hesitant to leave.
"With all due respect, sir," she said, "may I humbly request to remain here, until Saika has returned to us?"
Yamamoto gave the barest traces of a smile and closed his eyes.
"Of course you may, Lady Shihoin. I, too, hope that he returns to us, and unharmed. We will undoubtedly need his power in the battle to come."
In a few moments the field of battle had all but cleared of people, leaving Yoruichi, Neliel and Soi Fon looking expectantly towards the horizon.
"Who're you waiting for, Soi Fon?" Yoruichi asked, puzzled. Soi Fon fought back a blush and growled her reply.
"An infuriating, blue-haired bastard."
Neliel looked over and raised an eyebrow, confused.
"Surely you don't mean Grimmjow?" she asked, but when Soi Fon just blushed ever-so-slightly Nel realized that yes, she had meant Grimmjow.
"But what do you want with him?"
"We had a bet," the Second Division Captain replied shortly, her blush deepening.
Yoruichi smirked at the sight of her former Lieutenant in such a state, but before she had the chance to ask any questions two figures appeared walking towards them, jackets slashed up and bearing a few gashes but otherwise unharmed.
"Ulquiorra!" Neliel all but shouted, running towards the former fourth Espada. "You're all—what happened to your mask?" she asked, her eyes wide with horror as she rememebered what had become of Pesche and Dondochakka after Nnoitra had ripped their masks off. Schiffer saw the fear in her eyes and stepped forward, putting his hand lightly on her shoulder.
"I am fine, Neliel. Trust me."
"But… your Hole, it's gone!"
"I am aware of that," Ulquiorra said tersely, though not unkindly. "I have gone through some… changes, as has Grimmjow. I will tell you of them later, when there is time to spend on such things." He looked around, green eyes narrowing when he did not find who he was looking for.
"Where is Aron-sama?"
"Not back yet," Yoruichi replied, trying to keep the anxiety out of her voice.
"That's not good," Grimmjow said, shifting his gaze east.
"Callos must have been hiding more power than we thought," Ulquiorra said. "The last I felt they were still fighting each other, and that was some time ago."
Looking over at Soi Fon, Grimmjow moved to within whispering range and smirked.
"Better get those robes ready, sir," he breathed, making the Second Division Captain shiver lightly in spite of herself.
"Screw you," she hissed back, but with a kindred smirk gracing her face.
"Give it a few minutes," Jaegerjaques said, causing Soi Fon's blush to surge back onto her face. The pair's flirting was broken off sharply, however, when Yoruichi gasped sharply and forced out a single, stricken word.
"Saika…"
Five pairs were instantly riveted on the horizon, and the sight they witnessed there made their blood freeze.
Callos, in his released form and flexing two black, feathery wings that had grown from his shoulders, was dragging Saika's body through the dirt in front of him. The orange-eyed prince's body was marred with several cuts and had gone limp. Callos grinned wickedly and pushed his half-brother's body away from him, on its knees and facing towards the five anxious warriors. Yoruichi saw with horror that blood was leaking from an empty hole in the left side of Saika's face: his eye had been torn out.
"I suppose I should put him out of his misery, huh?" Callos said cruelly, raising his sword up and to the side as he prepared to decapitate his sibling. Yoruichi was about to flash-step in an attempt to stop the dark-eyed demon prince, but Neliel held her back and gave her a look that said 'You don't stand a chance against him.' Broken, the Shihoin princess could only watch in sorrow as the sword arced down towards Saika's neck, cringing in anticipation of the blood that would soon be splattered on the ground. Instead, all Yourichi heard was a dull clang. Opening her eyes, she saw something that almost made her cry out in joy.
Saika had somehow managed to raise his hand up and block the blade inches away from his throat, and Callos was now looking down at his sibling with an expression of shock as he tried to complete the stroke and found that his sword wouldn't budge.
"How…?" he breathed out, but he never got an answer. Instead, a surge of reiatsu sent him flying backwards, and only an instinctive flap of his wings kept the prince balanced. When his vision cleared, he saw that not only was Saika on his feet, but he was emanating a massive amount of spiritual energy considering that he had been a single slash away from death not ten seconds ago.
"I can see that you're wondering how I can do this," Aron said, his voice dripping with hatred. "Since it's the least I can do before I rip your head from your shoulders, I'll tell you.
"Your last attack cut my soul in half, which you assumed killed me. This wouldn't be stupid to think, except that you should have remembered one very crucial piece of information. Ever since our father ripped his power away from me, my soul has existed in two halves naturally.
"If anything, you actually helped me, brother. Thanks to you, that whole yin-yang thing got dealt with when my soul knit itself back together, and now it's one solid whole. Instead of rejecting each other, my Soul Reaper and demon powers have melded together. Do you know what that means? No? Fine, then I'll just show you," Saika finished, holding his sword out in front of him and planting his feet.
"Bankai."
When the resulting cloud of dust had cleared, the five observers found themselves staring at something that should have been impossible to create: the ultimate form of a Soul Reaper-Demon hybrid, a being that was terrifying even when it wasn't at full-strength. A wreath of blazing demonic energy sat on Saika's head like a crown, his single eye blazing blue with Soul Reaper reiatsu while the space in his empty socket glowed red-orange like embers. Rather than sprout actual wings like his sibling, Saika was framed by a pair of wings forged out of pure spirit particles, the neutral balance between demonic and Soul Reaper energies. His tattered robes had mended themselves, and now Aron stood tall like the royalty that he was, staring his half-brother down as his fangs glinted hungrily in the sunlight. Seeing the look on Callos' face, Saika laughed.
"What's the matter, brother? Afraid? You were so confident a moment ago when I was on my knees and about to die; why are you scared to strike now?"
Spurred on by Saika's taunt, Callos shot a beam of demonic energy from his hand and smirked as his brother did nothing to defend it. A moment later, though, his eyes widened as he saw Saika standing there, his wings having formed a barrier to block the attack. They pulled back and flexed open completely, revealing a grinning Saika.
"I just wanted to see if that would work," he said, "and I guess it does. Well, brother, as much as I would love to cause you excruciating amounts of pain I'm fighting on borrowed time here, so if you don't mind I'm going to end this right now."
Focusing Soul Reaper reiatsu in one hand and demonic reiatsu in the other, Aron slammed the two together and let the reaction do the rest. An explosion of chaotic energy lanced through Callos' chest, leaving a smoking hole where his sternum and most of his ribcage had used to be. The dark-eyed prince, however, had no intention of going gently into the night. Gathering what was left of his fading energy, he charged at his brother with his sword raised and eyes smoldering with rage. Saika blocked the first strike, but Callos pushed through with surprising force and raked his blade across Aron's shoulder. Saika hissed through the pain and the two siblings exchanged a flurry of strikes back and forth, the doomed Callos refusing to give his last inch without a fight.
Feeling his bones cracking under the combined force of fatigue and the injuries he had sustained during their first duel, Saika realized that if he didn't do something immediately he might not survive the fight. Seeing Callos charging at him, Aron closed his eyes and tensed every muscle in his body for what would be his final strike. Opening his eyes as he felt the blade falling towards his head, Saika shot forward from under the sword's path while striking with his own, severing Callos' head from his shoulders. As he felt the last traces of the prince's reiatsu vanish, Saika relaxed his bankai and let his exhaustion overtake him. The last thing he saw before passing out was a pair of glittering golden eyes, shining with relief.
The fragment of Sosuke Aizen's reiatsu that had been released by Death hovered in the air, desperately trying to locate its master but feeling no kind of resonance from him. After hours of wandering, though, the lonely energy was greeted by three other similar bodies, and they all merged together into a single, much stronger orb of reiatsu. Using a form of echolocation, the glowing blue orb soon singled out an incredibly faint trace of its master's presence and raced toward the location, only to shrink back in shock at what it witnessed.
Aizen had, in fact, been used for target practice. Riddled with a dozen arrows and lined with streaks of blood, the broken body was rapidly deteriorating and a Hollow Hole was forming on his chest. The energy instinctively knew it was incomplete, and that a final portion of it still rested with the Horseman known as Famine. But it also knew that if it did not act soon, both it and its host were going to cease their existence entirely. The reiatsu plunged back into Sosuke Aizen's body and raced towards his soul, hoping that being incomplete wouldn't result in any adverse side-effects.
Sosuke Aizen's Spirit World
Aizen was suspended in darkness, and had been ever since that bastard Mortos had stolen his reiatsu from him. If he ever got his hands on him, the former Captain swore he would kill him, slowly and oh-so-painfully.
Suddenly, like someone had flipped a giant light switch, Aizen's Spirit World came back to life. It was a reflection of the throne room in Las Noches, but Sosuke saw very quickly that something was amiss. A figure was sitting on his throne, giving him the cocky smirk that he had flashed so many times. But that wasn't the most distinctive thing about the figure in the slightest, and Aizen felt his heart constrict in fear and anticipation when he saw that the figure was pure white, with a pair of malicious yellow eyes.
He had finally gained an Inner Hollow.
Now, if he could just master it, his power would be unrivaled, even by that brat Ichigo Kurosaki. The Hollow's smirk widened into a smile.
"I know what you're thinking, partner," it said, "and there's no way you're possibly going to defeat me, especially when you only have 80 percent of your power. I rule here, and you should just accept that."
Aizen reached for his hip and found to his relief that Kyoka Suigetsu was waiting for him, and he drew his zanpakuto with a hiss. The blade was a bit duller than normal, reflecting Aizen's weakened state, but it would serve. The Hollow got up from the throne and chuckled, rolling its head around on its neck and cracking the joints in his shoulders to prepare for a fight. Drawing a green blade with silver hilt-wrappings, the Hollow assumed a fighting stance.
"If you honestly think you can beat me, you're welcome to try," it sneered, "but I will have no mercy on you if you lose."
Aizen flashed a smirk of his own.
"I wouldn't expect anything less."
The fallen Captain charged, light flaring brightly as the combatants clashed.
Orihime and Ishida were enjoying a walk together after school and relishing the light breeze that fluttered around them. The Quincy's hand rested by his side, agonizingly close to Orihime's but still empty. Forcing himself to keep a straight face while his heartbeat chose to be as erratic as possible, Uryuu kept his cool by paying an inordinate amount of attention to everything around him except the girl next to him. When Orihime let out a shriek and grabbed the Quincy's arm so hard it jostled his glasses halfway off of his face, Uryuu had no choice but to look into her deep gray eyes and try to stay calm.
"What's wrong, Orihime?"
The red-haired girl pointed her other hand off into the distance.
"Look!"
The archer readjusted his glasses and looked where Orihime was pointing, his breath catching in his throat as he saw what had startled her:
A Gate of Hell stood tall and ominous, ushering a swelling horde of demons into the near-defenseless Human World. A wasted and lanky figure sat astride a black horse at the head of the host, laughing madly at the thought of the entire world being consumed by an unquenchable hunger and devouring itself.
"This isn't good," Orihime forced out past her fear, and Uryuu nodded.
"We should find Chad, and fast. He needs to know about this; the three of us are the only ones that can do anything about this until Ichigo decides to show up."
Orihime nodded frantically and the two friends ran off in search of Chad, hoping that they could find the gentle giant before it was too late.
The figure stood perched on top of the roof, watching the reiatsu crackle in the distance like a tempest as her burnt-orange eyes narrowed in worry. A blast of wind knocked the red band out of her dark, blue-black hair and she cursed, snatching it back a second before it had fluttered out of her reach for good. That thing had been really expensive, and she was damned if it was going to just blow away like last time.
The memories returned to her in a gentle wave, comforting, not at all like the broken, jagged flashbacks she had experienced before. Memories of the brown-eyed Soul Reaper who had saved her time and time again, and had never asked for anything in return. If only he were here now, he would certainly know what to do. But he was off doing who knows what, leaving her to deal with this new mess herself. Shifting effortlessly into her Soul Reaper form, Senna felt a pang in her heart and sighed. It just wasn't the same without him.
Wherever you are, Ichigo, she thought, hurry up and get back here.
Author's Note: Okay, that was ridiculous. This chapter turned out to be much longer in word form compared to the images I had floating around in my head, but like I said earlier, I didn't want to break it in half and sacrifice the tension. The next chapter is going to be substantially calmer, focusing on the rehabilitation of the injured, Karin's training, and Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's attempts to learn about and master their newfound powers. So, for any of you who wanted more character development than there was, that's all coming next chapter.
Also, the character in the last scene is Senna from the movie "Memories of Nobody". If you haven't seen it yet, it's floating around on the internet subbed in english; check it out, it's good stuff.
Hope you enjoyed it, and Please Review; it really is appreciated and makes cranking out these chapters possible.
See you next time!