Sirens to evacuate blared through the air, sending civilians and heroes into a frenzy on the streets. It wasn't ideal to leave all the living people to run on their own from the overbearing pressure in the air encroaching their way, but Ichigo didn't have a choice. The closer that monster got, the more he would kill from presence alone. He needed to throw him somewhere secluded again, or take him out as soon as possible. His reflection in the glass building he flew by caught his attention, as he noticed the green-haired man's own keeping pace behind him.

"The hell are you still doing here?" he shouted back over his shoulder, glaring into Deku's surprised eyes. "I told you to grab everyone and run!"

"I'm a hero," Deku argued back. "I can't just run and leave the fight to you! If he's as strong as you're suggesting, then let me help! We'll stop him faster together!"

Ichigo stopped his flight abruptly, slamming his fist into the other man's chest to halt him. "These people will die if they aren't moved away, now! If you're a hero, then save them first! I'll take care of Aizen!"

"Is that so?"

Ichigo spun on a dime, clutched Zangetsu's handle, and stared down the near-immortal being standing in the sky across from them. The air shifted with his sudden appearance, his spiritual pressure shifting the breeze past him and Deku with the weight of a tidal wave. Regular people collapsed on the ground below, and the green-haired man took one look at them and at Aizen before he silently dropped, branching out dozens of his black tentacles to the street and through the nearest windows and plucking every person he could see to carry back the direction they came.

"That's very prideful of you, Kurosaki," Aizen commented coyly, "to stand me down on your own. Is it wise to send him off?"

The orange-haired man barked a laugh. "That just made me more confident," he admitted. "You sounding happy is like nails on a chalkboard." He shook himself to keep his composure straight, following the other man as he walked in the air and landed on a rooftop. The Gotei had assured him the binds in Muken would keep Aizen down there for good, so how had he broken free if they followed him into this world?

"Odd, isn't it?" Aizen voiced Ichigo's thoughts, walking along the building's ledge. "Yhwach would waste the effort to send me to another prison only to leave behind the seals that defined confinement. You nearly helped me believe I was still trapped in that chair."

"Really?" the orange-haired man drawled sarcastically, dropping to the rooftop with him. "Sounds to me you were just fine staying imprisoned. Can't believe you left it."

"It's pointless, you know." The other man stopped at the corner of the ledge, turning his coy smile on the Substitute Soul Reaper. "You believed the Hogyoku had been beaten into submission and sat in my body afraid to fight you. But it and I are one, and I've had our rematch on my mind for quite some time. It's sparked a thirst for battle in the Hogyoku, and it has only increased my strength since our last fight. While yours has been cut down, hasn't it; Yhwach took away your powers, if I remember correctly? Or are you hiding their return from me?"

Ichigo blinked from the bead of sweat that rolled over his eye and huffed. "The Monk said they were supposed to return," he answered truthfully, "eventually. Still waiting for them to wake up, but I'm not holding out hope."

"A pity, then. It seems you're outclassed once more, with no option to run and remedy that as you have before."

"Guess I don't have a choice then, huh?" Clutching the grip of his sword, Ichigo lifted his zanpakuto from his back, and laid his palm just where the hilt would have been. "Of midday, of heaven. Seer bright and erase. Remove all before, and leave behind only the canvas to paint upon." He slipped his fingers between the wraps and pulled along his blade, a bright liquid dripping out as he unsheathed a white zanpakuto. "Bleach it white, Zangetsu."

For the first time in a long while did Ichigo see genuine interest and surprise color Aizen's face, as the old soul studied his sword. "You've changed," he noted. "An odd new ability to your zanpakuto, after all these years witnessing how you trained it. But with White gone, and your Quincy powers revoked, I can only imagine whatever spirit you do retain demands a new strategy" — his eyebrows quirked, and his lip quipped into a grin — "or Zero Squad left you a parting gift for your troubles."

"Does it matter which?" Ichigo asked him, chambering the seeping blade by his side. "If I'm going to beat you with it, does where it came from make a difference?" He dug his foot into the building, cracking the rooftop beneath only his feet, and charged through the air at Aizen with a slash.

But the growing being had already jumped to the side, another two buildings away, dodging the white that splashed through the air. "Of course it matters. If you have a new Shikai — instead of releasing your Bankai now — then not only are you already at your limit, but you believe its ability may be enough." Ichigo course-corrected after him, but Aizen stood his ground with a hand raised to the air. "But if any one of Zero Squad taught you a technique, then I should be taking you seriously. El Escudo."

A green light barrier appeared between them, clashing with Zangetsu's swing and stopping the attack or the white liquid from connecting with Aizen. "Your blade may strike down gods," Aizen continued, "but I do not doubt that white your sword sloshes around is any less troublesome to the touch."

Ichigo scoffed at him with a smirk. "Guess your sight is still keen as ever after spending time in prison as a pirate," he mocked, and tightened his hold on his sword. "Let's call it" — he turned his sword to the side and slashed it along the stained barrier — "your downfall!"

Not only did the Kido spell split into two where he cut it, but without being touched did Aizen's eyes burst white liquid, pouring out his sockets and puddling at his feet. Aizen gasped in pain, prodding at the flesh beneath his now fully white eyes, and pushed around the liquid that continued to pour down his hand. "W-what..!"

"It's not just the white of my sword you should worry about, Aizen." The orange-haired Soul Reaper scraped his sword on the rooftop, leaving a trail of white that cracked the stone further. "All white belongs to me now."

The 'evolved' being scoffed, and pointed a hand Ichigo's way. "Pale Fire Crash!"

Ichigo slashed Zangetsu at the oncoming attack, clashing it against the white that splashed into the air and turned it into useless sludge. "You did your best to see it, but I guess you didn't hear me. I'm erasing you. And the Hogyoku." He pointed Zangetsu to the sky and twirled, spinning the clouds in the twilight sky slowly; not like the blinded Aizen would notice. The white dripped down his arm, repainting his shihakusho and skin a reminder of the Hollow he lost. "You were right to be worried, but you should have killed me before I had the chance. I guess you didn't remember how you lost before."

Aizen's white-coated face scrunched in anger, and pointing both his hands at Ichigo he shouted again,"—!" He brought a hand to his throat, and slid it up to his mouth, pushing through the white that had rolled down his cheeks and chin.

"I told you: you aren't strong enough."

It was an insult the man didn't take kindly to, forming his sword in one hand and charging Ichigo with what sensing powers he still had left. The orange-haired man blocked the strike with his blade, unblinking as white splashed onto them both, and grabbed Aizen's wrist with his drenched hand. The being's grip on his blade weakened, dropping it to the floor where it shattered like glass. He swung his other arm desperately at Ichigo, but he blocked it and the charging attack in his hand, drenching them too so both Aizen's arms would hang useless by his sides.

Ichigo thanked Ichibe silently for the extra training after the war with the Quincies, along with his zanpakuto for making quick work of the only opportunity they had to put the man down, and chambered his blade behind him. Knowing the only sense Aizen still retained was his hearing, he chanted, "Getsuga." He flinched and moved to flash-step, but his white-covered feet dragged on the rooftop like logs. "Tensho." With nowhere for him to run, Ichigo cut Aizen from waist to shoulder like a stick of butter.

Both halves of Aizen fell like sacks of potatoes, white pouring out as the blood gushed through it in the open cuts. Ichigo sighed, relieved, while Zangetsu stripped itself clean of the white as he released his technique. For good measure, he stabbed his zanpakuto into Aizen's chest where he last remembered seeing the Hogyoku before it ended up coated in white. The monk had taught him how to strip anything of its power with control over white, an ability he found scarily unmatched when he thought about the others in Soul Society; he wondered if Ichibe had taught him with Aizen's eventual return in mind, either suddenly or after the many thousands of years of his imprisonment officially brought him out for a retrial. At the very least, he had mitigated as much damage as possible in their fight, leaving the mortals with little clean-up and repair work in this city once he moved the body—

shunk

Blood gushed from Ichigo's chest in a heartbeat, and the Soul Reaper stumbled forward as it seeped down his shirt. He clutched at his open wound in shock, staring at Aizen's split body motionless at his feet.

"The truth is, Kurosaki, that it never mattered where you learned it."

He felt the following stab through his back, piercing further through his hand, before the blade removed itself just as quickly. He looked back over his shoulder, watching as the air before his eyes shattered, and revealed before him an evolved Aizen in perfect health. His sickly smile pushed through his cheeks, pinching the sides of his inverted-colored eyes, and a hand rose to lightly press on his skin.

"Because one of us did forget our last battle, and that Kyoka Suigetsu is me now. You lost the moment you came to see me in person."

Aizen raised his blade to strike him down, but all Ichigo felt was the rushing wind against his skin. The colors of the world blurred in his eyes a moment, before they adjusted to a space without light and the worried face of a green-haired man standing over him.

"Kurosaki!" Deku's shout reached Ichigo's ears through a muffled layer. "Can you hear me?"

"Deku?" he muttered back weakly. "Why are…you here?"

"I sensed you were in danger. I came as fast as I could." The other man peeled the chest of his shihakusho and winced at the two holes bleeding out from Ichigo's chest. "I don't have my supplies on me. You need medical help-but none of them can see you."

"Aizen…"

"You were right," Deku cut him off, frowning at the hand he flexed. "My punch didn't even phase him. That was my full strength." An explosion ruptured in the air, and the hero's head twisted to look up the alley he had brought them to. The orange-haired man could sense what the green-haired man did, and with his stabbed hand grabbed the mortal's arm as he tried to stand. "Kacchan!"

Ichigo prodded lightly at the cut in his chest, flinching as it flexed the one on his back. He could almost feel a light draft blowing out of his chest, and groaned weakly. He was losing his power, the same way Byakuya had taken it from him when they first met; he barely remembered it but he could recall the fact it would rid him of his own powers, and in this world what hope was there of getting those back?

I'm sorry, Ichigo, Zangetsu's voice wobbled in his head. I cannot stop it.

It's alright, the orange-haired man responded remorsefully. It wasn't his fault.

But this might be the only chance we have now.

Ichigo furrowed his brow, listening as his spirit shared an idea, and coughed through a small laugh; one loud enough to take Deku's mind off the action above. "Just hang in there, Kurosaki," he pleaded with him again.

"We have an idea," he muttered, fixing his grip on the man's arm and snaking his other hand on his zanpakuto. "To stop him."

"What is it?"

With his remaining strength, Ichigo lifted his sword into the air, angling it out in front of him. "Fall on my sword," he heaved, "and take my powers."

Deku looked at him like he was crazy; he was.

"It's how I got mine, the first time," the Soul Reaper elaborated through his breaths. "Zangetsu still remembers how it happened; he won't kill you."

"Will it kill you?!"

"Probably not." Another answer the green-haired man didn't look pleased to hear. "If I die like this, there's no telling if I'll just go back to my body; if I do, I'm still leaving you with a fight you can't win right now. Neither of us have another choice we like."

Deku fixed a pained stare at Zangetsu, likely arguing with the souls in his own head weighing the options. As the building before them cracked like ice, threatening to crumble, the green-haired man made up his mind, rising before the blade and taking hold to point it at his chest. "Are you sure this will work?"

"If you mean not dying, we won't kill ya." Ichigo smiled through the pain, reliving his own time in his head, imagining Rukia being mad at him for copying her, and listing the apologies he'd have to make when he saw everyone again. "The fight's up to you now. Good luck, Deku."

The other man met his eyes with his own. "Midoriya Izuku," he shared.

Ichigo coughed another laugh. "Green. I get it." And he watched his blade pierce the other man's soul.

Sosuke stopped his blade short of cutting down the green-haired man as he flew by, tackling Kurosaki and darting away with him. The evolved being brushed his side where the man had punched him as he passed, probably hoping to stun him as he escaped and saved the Soul Reaper's life; the strike was abnormally strong for a human, though ticklish to someone like him. What a fascinating specimen, Sosuke mused as he choicely walked where the two mortals were hiding. Not only a vessel for the storage of souls but physically enhanced in speed and strength? Kurotsuchi would have used him as a study for his Nemu, were he around; would likely attempt to make an Oken of his own too if the Court Guard weren't around to stop him.

Using him only as a key would have been a waste, Sosuke mused as he walked, reevaluating his plan. He had considered the option of disposing of the mortal after all was said and done, but he was now far more interesting a specimen. If there was no method of subjugating the mortal, he could learn the means of replicating it as back-up when someone rose to defy him as the Soul King. Or he could supplement as a stand-in for the Soul King's incubation, if the stories he found of the realms' conception were true; he'd be no good a king if he himself was immobilized.

"Bastard spotted!"

Sosuke looked back over his shoulder, watching a blond man dressed in green, orange and black fly through the air propelled by explosions. An odd ability, but he hadn't thought of Momo in some time; how had she been coping since the Quincies invaded? Must have been hard to act knowing he was allowed out in their personal gain to protect them.

"Brown hair, wearing full black, atop the buildings at Perriot and Bones!" the blond man described Sosuke out loud, likely through some means of communication with others. As the distance between them closed, the mortal swung his arms out in front of him, palms lighting up with sparks. "Go to hell, scum!"

Sosuke stood beside the mortal and watched with him as his severed arms rolled through the air past them, and his blade slid along the side of the man's neck as he flew past. "An impressive power for such a weak soul. A shame it's gone to waste."

There was still the matter of reaching the Soul Palace and the Soul Society for that matter, Sosuke noted as he passed the mortal choking on blood. He hadn't attempted yet, but he would need to find a way into the Dangai and then into the afterlife to make any use of his efforts. If he couldn't open a gate, he'd have a key with no door to unlock; though all this required there to be a Soul Palace to this world, or the ability to access the one he knew if this was simply another realm in the mix.

The Hogyoku hummed in his chest, sharing in his thoughts, as if to say, We'll make the door ourselves.

"Right you are," he responded with a smile. "No point in worrying over but a minor setback."

More mortals appeared, masters of elements and powers like any other Soul Reaper. One with the head of a bird cloaked himself in a dark, Hollow-like monster. Following him was a draconic creature even more reminiscent of the heartless creatures. Sosuke moved the two quickly into his own place to be caught in the blast of ice meant for him. When the same man who created the ice began blooming fire from his arm, he shot the mortal across the street with a simple Kido blast; another finished the two monstrosities attempting to break free of the ice. Such a varied species of mortals, he noted. Ranging from a wide pool of abilities to a mix of species, all within a single realm, was preposterous in the worlds he knew. Maybe that would be his first change as Soul King.

The air erupted before him, a plume of power and wind shooting to the sky from the gap between buildings the mortal had taken Kurosaki. Sosuke could tell it was the power of his favorite experiment, too; how troublesome that the mortal could have a healing ability of their own, or maybe an elixir or something similar to Soul Candy. He left the pondering behind him, readying his blade to strike down the man once more as he launched from the alley towards him.

What flew up in front of his face was not the orange-haired man he expected, but the green-haired mortal he sought after, donning the Seretei's shihakusho, swinging a broadsword twice his height at Sosuke's neck. And the blade he raised to stop the attack was sliced through like it was paper.

He jumped back with a flash-step, the mortal landing on the rooftop's ledge while his sword broke through the stone upon contact. "I'm surprised," he told the man. "I thought Kurosaki to be a man self-centered on his own strength as the answer. I had not assumed he would pass it on to you."

As he lifted his giant sword from the building, the green-haired man looked him in the eye with a glare. "You can tell?"

"Kurosaki started his journey as a Soul Reaper from the very same process he ran you through, no pun intended, and though you wield it, the aura is still very much his. I should have assumed it was an option on the table; a fault of my own oversight." He formed a new blade in his hand, pointing it at the green-haired mortal spirit. "Where are my manners? We raise our blades against each other and I don't even know your name. I assume Kurosaki told you my own, but allow me regardless; Aizen Sosuke."

"I'm Deku," the mortal replied plainly. He flicked his right arm to the side, loosening for the fight, before he gripped his sword tight and lunged at Sosuke again; once more he only cut through the air. Sosuke presented the new Soul Reaper with the sight of the fallen blond after he flash-stepped away, one that froze the man with shock as he took in him and the other mortal creatures strewn about the rooftops.

"Friends of yours, I assume?" he asked the mortal, taking only the expression on his face to answer for him. "Take with pride that you are a unique species across the realms; the diversity in your abilities and looks surpasses even that of Soul Society by a substantial margin. A shame, then, that you all fail to match even a fraction of their strength, much less my own." Sosuke punctuated his words with the gravity of his spiritual pressure, watching Deku buckle under the sudden weight around him. "I believe fate inescapable. Even for all my years in confinement, I knew my time to take the place of the Soul King for myself would come. So too would their deaths be true, by my hand or not. The strength to make fate is bestowed only to those worthy of such dictatorship; no doubt why Kurosaki lost his."

Shaking with what was no doubt to the evolved being's mind as rage, Deku flicked his right arm for but a moment before taking hold of his sword and launching off the rooftop at Sosuke. The blade he raised this time blocked the attack, kicking up a storm and destroying the infrastructure behind him. Deku looked up at him with a new burning sense of fury, and he simply met it with his smile.

"Your own power atop his could not hope to reach that same level of power he wielded before," he informed the mortal. "No doubt you are stronger now than what he threatened me with in your people's prison, but still it is pitiful. What could you possibly hope to achieve fighting such an uphill battle?"

Deku's body waved slightly in its form, before a second sword lunged from his chest aiming for the ascended being's face. Sosuke sidestepped the blade, and fell back when another soul jumped out from the mortal's body and swung after him. This white-haired spirit was dressed in a Soul Reaper's shihakusho just like the green-haired mortal, though his zanpakuto was a small, unawoken blade; yet the mortal in possession of Kurosaki's powers looked at the other with shocked recognition. "Yoichi?"

"One surprise after another," Sosuke admitted. "Might you be Kurosaki's new zanpakuto? Or are you the power this mortal already contains?"

Yoichi gave Deku a brief smile before turning it on Sosuke, adding on a devious glint. "We guessed if Ichigo Kurosaki could sense us, then it was reasonable to assume you could too," the white-haired ghost shared. "And I am a part of this man's power."

"Only a part?"

The ghost quipped the brow of his only visible eye. "You mean you didn't sense the rest of us?"

Without warning did a black tentacle shoot out from the mortal man's forearm, latching onto the ground where Sosuke was, once again flash-stepping to dodge. Instead of the mortal flying at him, two more souls in shihakusho swung from his body; a man the long appendage was attached to and the woman on his back, both with swords in hand and primed to strike Sosuke.

He formed a barrier before him to stop them and their blades. Changing their plans, the woman leaped from the man's shoulders and bounded over the barrier, whilst the man shot another tendril from his shoulder to grab the building ledge and pull him past the Bakudo spell's side. But the pressure in the air shifted once more, and Sosuke looked away from them both to the scarred, orange-haired man jumping at him from behind.

None of their blows connected, as he left them to swing at the air while he repositioned once more. "A vessel capable of holding individualized souls that retain their selves," he noted aloud. "Quite unusual indeed. Most souls in mass would lose their identity and simply become enslaved powers to the one body. The rules of this world truly are different from my own. But if you've awakened simply because of Kurosaki's power, I will warn you now you do not have the strength divided amongst you to win this fight."

"Nonsense!" A giant ghost lunged from Deku's body, draped like the rest in a shinigami's uniform. A full meter over Sosuke he stood, and from above his V-shaped golden hair came the zanpakuto cleaving at him. "I feel like a strapping young lad again!"

The rooftop where Sosuke stood before crumbled from the large man's attack — something more akin to a smash than a slash, as the man's knuckles cracked the building first. "Oh dear," the giant admonished himself, rolling his shoulders and posing his blade like a torch in front of him. Despite the destruction, a wide smile painted his face permanently. "I'm letting my excitement get the better of me. I should aim better."

Sosuke surveyed the small force of newly-empowered Soul Reapers taking position beside one another, all around the green-haired mortal they had emerged from. This was a unique sight to behold, but also a disappointing confirmation the man and his spirits weren't intertwined; if he tried to combine souls into an Oken with the man there was now a chance they would be separated from each other and render his tool useless.

He could take his time, weighing his options. They had all seen his skin too.

Izuku wasn't sure how he got himself into the same mess twice, accepting a bestowed power from a weakened warrior through less-than-conventional means; he couldn't decide if being stabbed in the chest was as bad as eating hair. But where One For All felt dormant until he activated it, this power from Kurosaki was burning him without letting up. He felt more alive than Max Full Cowl ever brought him, and he was technically dead now, wasn't he?

He played with the large broadsword in his hands, lifting it with a sense of ease. It almost felt like an extension of his arms, even dancing bolts of One For All across its edges when he summoned it. Kurosaki's sword had a personality attached to it, one he communed with but equated to the spirits resting within Izuku's quirk; was it simply an extension of his own soul, in physical form?

"Keep your guard up, Deku," the second wielder of One For All, Soku, warned him, falling back to his side and examining his own plain sword. "Odd as this may be, it could be to our advantage. His power and speed is great, but with One For All our numbers may be able to bridge that gap."

"Right." Taking hold of his enormous broadsword and heaving it onto his shoulder, he marched forward, leading the spirits of his predecessors across the building. "We have to be fast about this. Kurosaki needs help. Everyone ready?"

"Yes," Yoichi answered, raising his blade in front of him.

"Yes sir," Soku sounded off, chambering his blade by his hip.

"Damn right I am," Banjo grunted, wrapping his fist and the base of his sword with Blackwhip, with two tendrils hanging at the ready.

"Of course," Shimura hummed, holding her blade out before her to block.

Yagi, standing tall in his muscular form, came up just short of Izuku's side, resting his smaller sword on his shoulder as the green-haired hero did his. "To follow you into battle?" he asked, widening his trademark smile. "This is the day I've been waiting for."

We'll remain in here, Shinomori spoke for him, En and the third user Kei. If he was unaware we are all separate souls, we could use the element of surprise to our advantage when we have the chance. We should keep our cards to our chest.

"Then let's!" Izuku leaped ahead with One For All coursing through his vein, and swung his sword down at the villain. "Colombia Cleave!"

Aizen dodged before his sword could connect, leaving the building beneath them to fold and crumble from the force of Izuku's swing alone. The green-haired hero scoffed and pulled back his blade; this was much stronger than he was used to, with another layer of power atop his own. He needed to watch it before he destroyed Japan trying to save it.

"Quick footwork," Banjo commented about Aizen, taking the lead as he leapt over the street after him, Blackwhip spinning violently around his blade. "Bermuda Bash!" He swung despite the massive distance between them, and his quirk outstretched to make up for it, balling up at the end to swipe through the air as the brown-haired villain rose high into the sky.

"And you have powers of your own beyond Kurosaki's parting gift," he gathered. "I take it then Deku gives his thanks to you for his strength."

"The kid's strength is all of his own hard work." Shimura had shot up after him, floating slowly to close the gap to him. "We give him thanks for making good use of it in our stead." Her first strike to his head was blocked, but Shimura kept up the pressure with strike after strike pushing him back. Banjo joined her in the air, accessing Float through their shared quirk, while Izuku and the others followed together while atop the buildings.

"He's still too fast," Yoichi noted. "If we do have the strength to stop him like this, it'll do no good if we can't connect our hits. We need to hit his body so we can slow him down with Gearshift to have even a chance for a real opening."

Soku looked over at the man who started the chain of their quirk. "When did you become a battle strategist?"

The white-haired man smiled at his protege. "Since we were passed on at the beach. Yagi." He turned his attention to the taller man. "Can you catapult Soku for better speed for an opening?"

The blond man returned to him a smile and a thumbs up, confirming, "Of course," that overshadowed the orange-haired man's cry as to why he had to be the ammo. "Young Midoriya, you stay ready once we give you the chance to strike. Do you think it will work?"

The green-haired man in question shook his right arm a moment before smiling at his mentor. "So long as your plan does," he affirmed.

"Splendid!" Without a moment to waste did Yagi pick up the shouting second-user by the collar of his garb and sat him in his other hand. "Let's put an end to this monster quickly. Morocco Meteor!"

Soku shot through the sky with a crack of the sound barrier behind him, and the trio fighting above had little time to react before the second user bumped into Aizen's shoulder. The brown-haired man barely budged while the orange-haired man spun off through the air, and the villain quipped an eyebrow his way. "You should have known from before that your strength isn't enough to hurt me."

"And you should know better than to talk us to death," Suko bantered back, placing one hand over the other and shifting them through the air. Aizen's spin slowed to a near stop, and the swing of his sword struggled to reach Banjo's next strike to his shoulder, or Shimura's to his stomach.

Now! All Might grabbed Izuku the same as he had Soku and chucked him into the air, and the green-haired hero pushed himself faster with bursts of One For All in his legs. Channeling his quirk between himself and his blade, readying it behind his head to swiftly strike down, he quickly closed the gap between himself and Aizen.

ping

Izuku's blade was stopped an inch into Aizen's shoulder, and Banjo's stomach exploded with blood not a second later.

The brown-haired villain pushed the sword from his shoulder — his movements acting unbothered by Gearshift — without a drop of blood falling from his quickly-healing cut. He chucked Izuku back down towards his mentor with ease, and turned his free hand to Shimura as she held the bleeding Banjo. "Hundred Step Balustrade." Pillars of light shot at the pair from the man's hand, catching them by the clothes and dragging them across the sky until they crashed through a skyscraper.

"Take care of them, Midoriya!" Yagi instructed, chucking the green-haired man through the air once more. "We'll keep him busy!"

"Stay safe!" he ordered — pleaded — at him, only receiving a barely visible thumbs up before the large soul jumped after Aizen with the other past wielders. Izuku kicked through the air to hasten his pace, shooting through the broken glass and dropping beside Shimura cradling the bleeding Banjo both surrounded by the thin pillars of light.

The bald man examined his blood-stained hand, releasing a weak groan. "I haven't bled in almost seventy-five years," he recalled weakly. "Didn't miss it."

"Don't reminisce now, you old bastard," Shimura chided him with a small smirk. "En talked about you as a fight; don't break that image now."

Setting down his blade, Izuku took the fifth user's hand in his. "Hang on, Banjo. We'll find a first-aid in here. Just hang on—" Light emitted from their connected hands suddenly, trailed down the ghost's body, and with one bright flash he disappeared from sight. "Banjo?"

In here, kid, came the voice of the fifth user. Hey Shino.

Welcome back.

Do you mind getting off your ass now?

"Are you all right?" Izuku interrupted them.

His bleeding has stopped, En explained for him. It seems leaving your body gives us a temporary one of our own, and we return to ourselves with you. He should recover fine in here.

Give it a try, Banjo encouraged his successor sarcastically. It feels wonderful.

"What did he even hit us with?" the woman in front of Izuku voiced their thoughts out loud. "I didn't see his sword move, or him throwing some other attack. How fast is he?"

"Too fast," Izuku answered sourly, picking up his blade with his left hand while he shook his right. "If he can overcome Gearshift, we won't outspeed him without Fa Jin." Blackwhip danced down his arm as a spiral gauntlet, tying his hand to his sword. "We need more time, and to figure out what he's doing."

"But we need to hold him off," Shimura continued, walking back to the hole she came through. The two watched the other uses of One For All dancing around Aizen in the distance, clashing blades without a single scratch on anyone. "Kurosaki gave his power to you, and the majority of it still is. We'll keep doing what we can to buy you that time."

His message to stay safe went unvocalized, as the two lept from the building towards the fight. Shimura took the lead and Izuku fell back, dropping atop another roof and thrusting his right arm. His body still felt wild with Kurosaki's power running through him — quite possibly infused into One For All with how even his one hundred percent bursts felt far stronger and faster than he was used to. It only reminded him that the gap between them was much greater than he realized. Even a few stacks of Fa Jin atop his max strength would fall short of accomplishing such strength; how the hell did someone live with this much power? Aizen had mentioned in Tartarus that Kurosaki had lost some of his power; how strong was he before?

How much stronger was Aizen now?

The mess of the fight came crashing back down to the city, Aizen standing his ground as his blade blocked Yagi's swing to his head and the other users fell back behind them. "You are a tricky fellow," the giant blond commented, chambering his free fist to his side, ignited by bolts of yellow energy. "But I hope you don't assume we'll tremble to our knees in fear!" Yagi slammed his glowing fist into Aizen's chest, erupting the air with a boom and a blast of smoke shooting out in all directions.

ping

Izuku had no time to react as Soku's shoulder erupted with blood and his entire right arm appeared cut over every inch. The smoke cleared with a single gust of wind, showing Aizen unharmed by the fist pressed against his chest.

What was happening, the green-haired hero panicked, watching Yoichi pull back the bleeding Soku as Yagi and Shimura continued to pressure Aizen. How was he attacking them from so far away, without ever making a move to attack? Why couldn't they hurt him or leave a scratch, even when their blades connected?

It is the power of his zanpakuto, the voice of a young man answered in his head, shocking the green-haired man from his stupor. Kyoka Suigetsu.

Who was this, Izuku wondered wordlessly, surveying the rooftops around him and the allies on the defensive against Aizen.

I am Zangetsu, Ichigo Kurosaki's spirit. You are wielding my power in this fight. Normally a conversation like this would prove impossible, but it seems your inner world functions on a more advanced level than other Soul Reapers'.

Pleased to meet you, the green-haired hero hastened his greeting. But you said you know this power?

Illusions. The spirit was quick to move the conversation along too. Full hypnosis, to be more accurate. He can trick all five of your senses into believing what he wants you to — experience what he wants you to — all without you being any the wiser. You've seen even a fraction of his skin; it was all he needed to put you under his spell, along with these souls you've contained. It is likely you are not fighting him but one of your own, while he hides invisible no matter what you do, possibly impersonating one of your own. You are alive only because he needs this ability of your vessel to hold as many souls as possible to ascend the heavens and take the place of God. He believes he has the power to toy with you long enough to fully format and enact a plan, and he is right; the power we have given you atop your own is still not enough as is, and under his spell your five senses will never find him.

Izuku cursed under his breath. Beyond Shinso's quirk he had never encountered grand powers of hypnosis, and definitely not to a level of control as this. His strategies of counteracting Brainwash and the like couldn't help him against a spell so strong it wrote his perception of reality. The ghosts of his predecessors charged at Aizen once more, Shimura clashing her sword with his.

ping

He twitched his head to the side, watching the second predecessor worm out of the first's grip, and stomp his way back to the fighting of their allies.

But this is not one of your five senses, Zangetsu noted. Intuition, precognition; whatever it may be, Kyoka Suigetsu cannot hypnotize it into submission. You can 'see' beyond his spell — know where he is or where he will come from. This alone is helpful, but is not enough to overcome the gap in strength.

No need to worry about that. Izuku flicked his arm quickly, surged with the strength of One For All before it retreated into the reserves. Blackwhip slithered out of his wrist and trailed along the flat of his blade. He had a plan from the very beginning with what little he knew before, and to his luck these revelations wouldn't render it obsolete.

I apologize for the burden we rest on your shoulders, but Aizen cannot be allowed to live. The Hogyoku will keep him alive and restore his body so long as it is tied to his soul, and his strength will be enough to decimate this country if he is so inclined to use another method to invade the Soul King's palace. You must separate the two and end them both in one swoop.

ping

"Will do." Trusting the warning where it pulled his head, Izuku launched through the air at his old mentor's ghost, shoulder-checking him aside and raising his blade. The blade of a wounded Soku connected with his, and what should have been the second predecessor squinted his eyes as they stared each other down. "Aizen."

"So you can tell," came the voice of the strange enemy from Suko's mouth, before the air between them shattered and the illusion faded. "I see your abilities stretch far beyond what you lead on. But we've danced around long enough." Aizen applied pressure where their blades met, and Izuku barely registered the chip in his sword before it was cleaved in two, nearly taking his right arm had he not reacted in time. "We will have to do without these enhanced souls. I'll give you time to say your goodbyes."

That's when Izuku took his window. Blackwhip shot at Aizen's blade and quickly snaked down his arm until it gripped him right. "I won't give you the same." His right hand flashed bright with power, channeling One For All atop the charges he had been storing throughout the battle, applying a layer of Gearshift to his speed, and with Kurosaki's power bundled in he thrusted it through Aizen's chest in the blink of an eye. "Canada Crush: 5000 Percent!"

Through the hole in Aizen's chest where his arm ran through, Izuku could feel something harder than a rock caught in the palm of his hand. Without another moment to waste, he ripped his arm back with the Hogyoku and swallowed his disgust with the gemstone shoved down his gullet.

Aizen watched him with a mix of shock and disgust, but it took no time at all for his demeanor to shift to a smile once more and laugh in Izuku's face. "An unconventional strategy, but I guess it is to be expected of your kind. Unlucky for you, the Hogyoku and I are one; separating us achieves nothing."

"You and the Hogyoku are two different things," Izuku corrected him through a gag. "Kurosaki said it stayed with you because of the connection with your soul." He copied the villain's smile with his own. "But the nine of us have been together longer cumulatively than you have with it, if I guessed right. Which do you think can be more convincing, one soul or ten?" Blackwhip shot from his back, latching onto the other users of One For All and dragging them into him while they disappeared in flashes of light."Go ahead. Heal yourself."

The composure waved, as the hole in his chest pulsed at the rims before gushing another flood of blood onto Izuku's chest.

The green-haired hero shot Blackwhip to the fallen half of his blade, lifting it back to its base and holding it together with the tendrils of his quirk. "That's what I thought."

DANGER

Aizen's quick grip on Izuku's shoulder dug into his skin like claws. Black creeped up the sides of Izuku's vision, the air around them both filling with dark, interconnecting panels. "Seeping crest of turbidity. Arrogant vessel of lunacy! Boil forth and deny!"

With his other arm free, the hero swung his sword behind him. "Grow numb and flicker! Disrupt sleep! Crawling queen of iron!"

Blackwhip tightened until the sword clicked back into place, and arcs of One For All trailed down his arm all the way to the blade's tip. "Eternally self-destructing doll of mud! Unite! Repulse! Fill with soil and know your own powerlessness!"

He gripped the wrist that wouldn't let go of him; neither of them were leaving. "Kurohitsugi!"

As the sky above his head turned pitch black, Izuku cleaved his sword into Aizen's neck.

Ichigo woke up to a man with green hair with a hand on his neck, and reflexively threw his fist at his face.

The casually dressed Midoriya caught it with ease. "Hey! Just me."

The orange-haired man blinked, and balked as he retracted his arm. "Sorry about that," he apologized, before judging the small amount of space between them. "Do you mind?" The hero stepped back, dropping Ichigo's arm onto the mattress—oh, he was in a bed. The orange-haired man took a survey of his surroundings, of the sterile hospital room around him, and gazed out the window to the midday sky gleaming from above. "I take it you did it, then."

"Yeah," Midoriya confirmed softly, resting on the chair beside Ichigo's bed. "We did it. He's not getting back up. Unless killing him puts his soul in the afterlife?"

Ichigo shook his head, pushing himself up to sit slowly. "He was a Soul Reaper before he evolved; he's probably been shoved into the cycle of rebirth, not remembering who he is. If that even works the same here — I have no idea." Taking stock of their tasks in hand, he raised an eyebrow at the other man. "What happened to the Hogyoku?"

The green-haired man hesitated, curling in his lips as he looked away. "Well" — he took a big gulp of air before looking back at the orange-haired man — "you mentioned it worked with him through suggestion and their time spent together, so I thought I could separate it and essentially force it into submission with…the souls I have. I managed to rip it from his chest and killed him as fast as I could. The Hogyoku hasn't tried to bring him back or anything, so I'm assuming my theory worked and it's now dormant. At least that's what Zangetsu tells me."

Ichigo stuttered out the start of his next question when he realized what Midoriya had just said. "Wait, you can talk to Zangetsu?"

The hero nodded. "The spirits in my quirk are all separate consciousnesses, so I guess your powers mixed with mine process differently than what he thought? I can hear his voice, and he's watching what I think is the Hogyoku's spirit? I haven't gone to my own inner world to see it myself yet. He did actually help me get back in my own body; he says my first thought would have probably blown it up. And thank you — both of you. You're not here willingly but I don't think I'd have saved anyone if you weren't here."

"So where did you put it?" the orange-haired man brushed aside the thanks; the less people felt indebted to him, the better. "We can't just leave the Hogyoku unattended—" Ichigo quickly deadpanned at the man, watching him squirm and shift through poses where he sat. "You ate it."

"In my defense" — Midoriya rose his hands quickly in surrender — "that's not the first time I've done that. I didn't have any other way for them to force their thoughts and feelings into it to try and override Aizen's connection, so I…ate it." He pulled at the collar of his shirt, stretching it down to show the jewel-like object embedded in his chest, just over his heart. "And I'm really confident it worked."

Ichigo stared hard at the science project melded into the skin of the other man's chest. The object that had caused the longest-running conundrum of his life — siphoning Rukia's power, throwing the Gotei into a civil war, evolving Hollows and keeping his biggest annoyance (bar Ishida) alive — had found its new host in a stranger from another universe who ate it like a grape. His moral compass was torn between relief and frustration; he leaned to the former for the time being, falling back in the bed with an exhale.

"Try not to be too demanding with your imagination," he warned the hero. "It might try to recreate you in his image, or grow a permanent third arm or some shit. Hat n' Clogs rarely explains his shit."

The green-haired man clapped his hands together. "I couldn't think of a worse person for this to be attached to, then. I'll give it my best. How do you feel?"

Taking a look at his hands, Ichigo commented, "I guess I'm back in my body?"

"You do look the same," Midoriya affirmed. "You were in pajamas when I came back to you, like you said you last remembered. I was worried you faded away right afterwards. I'm sorry it didn't return you home at the same time."

That was disappointing, Ichigo agreed. With his powers transferred, the Hogyoku in a mortal, and no means of contacting the spirit worlds, he was effectively trapped longer than he had hoped in what amounted to an alien world. He spotted his substitute badge on the table counter beside his head, but he wasn't gazing upon it with hope it would light up with the voices of his friends admonishing him for getting caught up in the wind of another mess.

"Orihime's gonna be a mess when I get back," he lamented softly.

Midoriya had still picked it up, chiming in, "Is that your wife?"

"Yeah. It's a terrible idea to try and upset her; when she cries, her eyes look like a puppy's. She's strong, but if I come back fine and in one piece, she'll probably play it up for some attention and a make-up gift. It'll at least reassure me she's fine too."

"But this isn't your fault."

The orange-haired man shrugged with a snort. "It's a tactic that's gotten us a free cake before. I can't be mad at her for being cute. Our kid's gonna do the same — he takes a lot after her."

"I'll get you back to them." The hero's voice turned serious, leaning closer with determination in his eyes. "Not if, but when I can get this Hogyoku to listen to me, I will give you back your powers, and I will find you a way home — I'll make one, if that's what it takes. I will bring you back to your family."

Ichigo looked him in the eyes, meeting and studying the emotion behind them. And he found it true. "Thanks."

Even if that meant waiting who knows how long, he would take the offered help. Along with the following offer to work at the man's agency to pass the time, and let him live comfortably and open; apparently their crew could do with an experienced translator. It was part-time, sure, and maybe the money wouldn't transfer back home with him when the time came, but it was better than sitting around wondering when he was going to get home.

"I was thinking a bit about that, actually," Midoriya would bring up later that evening, once Ichigo was discharged from the hospital and being led back to the hero's place for a temporary stay. "When Aizen came here, you think he swapped places with Tenko and he was sent to Aizen's prison overseen by your allies. The two were traded with each other, and maybe that was the only way to bring him over. So if they traded places, who did you trade places with?"

Ichigo thought it over a moment, knowing full well it wasn't like he would know the other person in the equation, and looked down at the pajamas he had worn to bed in his last memory home.

"Soul King rest their soul," he prayed in a mock mourn.

Denki remembered where he decided to nap in the middle of his off-day; atop a building, staring up at the rolling clouds above, listening to the soft tunes of his fiance serenading him in his earbuds. So when he woke up to find a ceiling overhead and a dim light peering through the window, he chided himself knowing the only person who would waste dragging him back was that same sweet angel he fell asleep to. Who he assumed was the same woman curled against his side under the covers.

"Sorry, Kyo," he began his apology as he rolled over to look at her. "I thought it was just going to be a quick…"

His assumption turned out to be wrong, because his short-length violet-haired girl was definitely not ginger; nor did she have the body of Yaoyorozu, which should have keyed him in sooner to the body snuggling against his.

A weak sound escaped his lungs as he tried to come up with something to say, and that was enough to stir the woman awake. She slowly blinked her eyes, rubbed off them the overnight gunk, and looked at Denki with a soft smile that faded away bit by bit as she came to see him more clearly. And then she screamed — which woke them up fully — while grabbing the covers and pulling them with her as she fell off the bed.

"Who are you?!" she shouted at him.

"Who are you?!" he wailed back.

"Where is my husband?!" she continued to prod. "How did you get in my house?!"

"How should I know? I was taking a nap on a roof! I don't know who moved me in my sleep!" Finding he was still dressed in his shirt and shorts, he jumped from the bed and hastily made his way to the door. "I'm sorry, this is a prank someone is playing on me" — he could envision the midget and tape-shooting bastards scheming over him on that rooftop — "that you shouldn't have been roped into. I'm a hero, so I will take my leave, find the dicks who did this, and bring them back here to apologize to you—"

Sadly that did not happen, as he opened the door to find a cane pointed at his neck, wielded by a man in a green and white bucket hat peering at him from under the rim.

"My deepest apologies," he began, something Denki didn't believe from his lifeless tone, "but you'll have to give us a bit more information than that, 'Mr. Hero.'"

Another hand rested on the back of his neck, and he looked over his shoulder to the purple-haired woman who definitely wasn't in the room before smiling devilishly at him. "And don't run. Or do; we could make the morning fun." Instinctively Denki let out a short burst of his quirk, hoping only to paralyze the woman and send a strand through the blade to shock him too, but his discharge redirected behind him, seemingly eaten by the dark-skinned woman's presence. Her smile only grew.

The electric blond wailed internally. What did he do to deserve this?