The Soul Society

Thunderous booms shook the air, and the atmosphere trembled in the sheer spiritual pressure exuded by the two battling halves. Aizen launched again and again at the aged Shinigami, who time and time again deflected and countered, and yet Aizen did not let up the assault.

The heavens were split, the ground shattered yet the battle carried on.

The vicinity was cleared previously, only a handful of captains had stayed, the others helping along the evacuation. Kenpachi, Shunsui and Mayuri. While Kenpachi tried to intervene only to be utterly crushed, Shunsui simply observed. He could no longer perceive the limits of Aizen’s power.

Mayuri spectated the battle with glee in his eyes. The mad scientist just found a curious thing to add to his collection. He rooted for the Head Captain, the sooner he attains victory the sooner Mayuri can get his hands on Aizen and the Hogyoku.

An exceptionally loud blast was heard, and Head Captain Yamamoto fell from the heavens, and crushed into the ground.

Shunsui paled, ‘The Head Captain himself is struggling, there is no way we can intervene in this battle. But we have to do something.’ He thought as his hand clenched around his sword.

…

Aizen landed with a thud and looked down on the straining form of the Head Captain.

“Is this all? Is this all that the mighty Head Captain amounts to?!” He taunted.

A shadow overcame the old man’s face as his muscles strained, and eyebrows creased.

“Head Captain, won’t you oblige me?” Aizen asked, blade pointing at his Zanpakuto.

He knew full well the consequences, the old man still had reserves.

Aizen was aware that he was playing with fire, but he wanted to experience the old reaper’s unrestrained might for himself. It should be great practice, the best challenge anyone could provide for him before he would face that monster of a hollow.

Having evolved to a plane beyond reapers and hollows he was confident that he could attain victory against that Vasto Lord, but… something deep inside whispered to him… that he needed even more power, much more so that he could confidently state that he stood above the heavens, and he alone.

“Now then Head Captain, what will it be?” Aizen asked, his eyes straying to the masses of weak Shinigami evacuating the Seireitei, clearly conveying his intent.

The old man made sure none were in the vicinity, and grabbed his Zanpakuto with newfound determination, resolve to stand up in the face of a God.

Slowly the still lingering flames died down in the vicinity and the Head Captain rose, the atmosphere morphing, and the flames extinguished all around.

{Longsword of the Remnant Flame: East—Rising Sun Edge}

The flames concentrated at the tip of the blade. It neither burned, nor erupted, a slender sword that promised a painless death. Anything it touched is eradicated to nothingness.

Smoke rolled off the Zanpakuto, and all Ryujin Jakka’s flames were contained within.

Yamamoto was ready to smite down his foe. He gritted his teeth and made his peace, it was truly a shame for Aizen showed great promise, but the rules were absolute. He had betrayed the Soul Society, and as such he had to be punished. “Insolent child, you’ve forced my hand. It is time I dealt out some punishment!”

“Come!” Aizen shouted and braced himself for impact.

…

Hueco Mundo

The fallen God-King was on his way to the Black Tower when he suddenly halted, a cold voice resounding inside of his skull. “Baraggan…”

For long seconds he just floated there, wondering if his imagination was playing tricks on him.

“Baraggan.”

There, there was that voice again. It couldn’t be anything, or anyone else. Not really knowing how he should proceed he called out.

“Yes?”

“Ah, so message works…”

“What?”

“Hmm, never mind that… I have a job for you, you’ll like it… go to the Soul Society and bring back that Shinigami… Aizen… will that be a problem?”

“No, absolutely not. Should I bring my minions with me?”

“Hah, do as you will. With your current level of power, I don’t think there will be any trouble, but just in case have someone observe from the shadows and alert me if something comes up.”

“Right, I will be on my way then.” Baraggan said out loud as he turned to make his preparations.

Not in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would lay foot inside the Soul Society, and yet that day has come. Much sooner than expected… what his master was planning he could only guess.

….

“Where am I?” Grimjoww asked, while getting up from his position.

He did not expect what he found… hollows, great and small, strong, and weak alike were all gathered around the dunes, all waiting for something, or more likely someone.

“Was I saved?” He asked, a Menos looming threateningly above him.

Size wasn’t what determined ones’ standing within the confines of Hueco Mundo, but power. Although, the Menos towered over him, Grimjoww had no doubt about its weakness. Should it attack him, it would become his meal, his nourishment.

The Menos did not speak, nor did it attack… it simply loomed over him for what seemed like hours before ultimately leaving him alone. ‘Maybe it realized how severely it is overmatched?’

A voice boomed over the dunes and Grimjoww found the cause. The culprit who swayed the attention of the Menos and the masses.

“Fellow Hollows, Great and Small! I have heard worrying rumors about a certain rogue that devours without conscious and leaves no trace of those unfortunate souls! But fear not, for I am here!”

‘Hah, who does he think he is?’ Grimjoww felt his desire to hunt, to trample those arrogant hollows who’d have the galls to speak in such manner spike.

“I am Ainz Ooal Gown, and on my name, I swear this to you! I will protect all of you, you who have gathered under my call!” The skeleton declared, making excessive gestures with his golden staff.

‘Hah, like I’d let you! Stupid skeleton reminds me of Baraggan… wait… come to think of it, haven’t I heard that name before?’

‘There is something sinister in the air…’ Grimjoww noted, and the panther like body of his was on high alert.

“Loyalty is a treasure, one that I cherish the most. Should you fail me…”

The crimson orbs flared threateningly in the eye sockets of the Undead God.

“… the consequences will be dire.”

Grimjoww’s azure eyes gleamed under the dark skies of Hueco Mundo, when a figure joined the Overlord, exuding a pressure befitting of a Vasto Lord, the rulers of hollow kind.

‘What is going on here? What is she doing here of all places?!’

Unease swept through the crowd but was instantaneously extinguished when the Overlord raised his hand, a testament to his power over them.

“I shall prove myself to you, and hunt down this wretched creature that dared to prey upon any hollow it found! In Hueco Mundo, in my kingdom everyone shall be equal!”

‘So, he means to say, we are all to be enslaved as one…’Grimjoww shared his concerns with many hollows present.

“Those that do not adhere to my values will be swiftly and cleanly dealt with, this I promise!”

The Overlord’s voice boomed over the dunes, and a chill set in the atmosphere, as a chaotic dark aura rose around the one called Ainz Ooal Gown.

Grimjoww didn’t recognize this pressure… it should’ve been spiritual in nature, but… this was something else, something alien, something not of this world…

The raging inferno died down in the eye sockets of the skeleton, and he gestured to the side.

“Let me introduce you to a… friend, she will register, and assign you into groups. Harribel, if you would. “

“Yes!”

“Splendid.” The Overlord said, clasping his skeletal hands.

“Then Begin.” A crystalline throne materialized behind the Overlord, and he took seat. Crimson orbs scanning each soul gathered on the sand dunes.

Grimjoww had long since been searching for a way out, but this encirclement was full and without opening. There was only one way out, and he didn’t like that one bit.

Some tried to escape but were mercilessly teared apart by an unseen enemy.

He may be rash, but he wouldn’t challenge a Vasto Lord, not at his current level of power.

Then, there was that skeleton… he gave off an overwhelming aura that was foreign to him. It would do him no good to rush to his death, after all he was destined to be King.

He joined the line, like many other. Patiently awaiting the time, the time when he could rise up as the rightful ruler of the endless white dunes of Hueco Mundo.

…

Soul Society

Head Captain Yamamoto spat out a mouthful of blood, his aged hands tightly grasping Ryujin Jakka, Bankai released. A black blade, smoldering eerily. Promising an easy death, one without pain.

The sword that can cut the fabric of space-time, the sword that can erase reality itself where it struck. A truly frightening blade, meant to be wielded only by the strongest.

It should have been easy, a one sided beatdown, but… his opponent was no longer bound by the rules of the universe, his opponent has already transcended the norm and achieved a greater height.

Standing in front of the Head Captain, Aizen loomed, an overconfident smirk surfacing on his visage.

Aizen’s body was covered in white, a cross shaped hole in his chest with the Hogyoku in midair. Wings of pure white on his back, Aizen was confident in his overwhelming victory. He had attained the 4th fusion, and with-it unsurmountable power.

Yamamoto had no chance of defeating him now, he might have been a monster against which he needed to prepare, but after the second fusion the tide of the battle was in his favor. The moment he reached the 4th fusion it was all over; Yamamoto could no longer keep up with him.

He could only look down at the pitiful, cowering form of the elder, the Head Captain who struggled to keep his powers in check… the fool had grown weak, soft. To think he would self-impose restrictions even when going Bankai, if it were the Yamamoto of the past… he wouldn’t have cared if all the Soul Society was consumed in his flames if it meant hunting down a hollow, or in his case, stopping a rogue Shinigami… though now he was more than that, so much more.

Aizen felt the power circulating inside of his body, pure, explosive power, so much so that it was hard to contain his excitement. He has transcended, he has become God.

Gazing at the form of the smoldering Head Captain, Aizen made up his mind. He could no longer attain more power by fighting the Head Captain, it was time to look for a greater challenge.

“Gin, Tosen. We are leaving.” Aizen said, not sparing a second glance to Kenpachi and Shunsui who were buried under the rubble.

“Hmm?” Aizen halted his steps, a gateway forming in the sky, a skeleton exiting the portal.

“What do we have here?” The skeleton asked, as the spiritual pressure of the Vasto Lord crushed down on all present with the ferocity of a true beast.

Head Captain Yamamoto had reached his limit. He struggled to stand, the flames flickering as the blade in his hand lost its defined black edge and transformed back into its basic form. Yet even now, he refused to fall, he refused to leave Soul Society without its protector. He had a duty to uphold, if he didn’t protect the souls residing in this realm, no-one else would.

“Ah, if it isn’t the fallen God-King, have you come to retrieve me?”

“Such disrespect from a low-life Shinigami, know your place. If it wasn’t the Lord’s will, I’d have killed you for this transgression.”

A dangerous glint passed through Aizen’s eyes, “that so? Do try.”

Yamamoto watched as Aizen blurred and engaged the skeleton, who in turn summoned a cloud of violet miasma that eroded matter and pushed time into acceleration. The area aged rapidly, leaving nothing but dust, yet the white winged form of Aizen floated unperturbed in the cloud of death.

“Hmm, disappointing, but not unexpected.”

“Impossible, nothing can resist my power!” Baraggan exclaimed, not accepting that in a few short days he came upon not one, but two existences that could ignore his perfect ability.

“Enough of this charade,” Aizen said while simultaneously dissipating the mist with but a single gesture.

“Take me to your master, but don’t presume for a moment that you have influence over me.”

“Gin, Tosen. Follow us.” Aizen said, his eyes straying to the form of Yamamoto. He staggered to his feet, holding his injured arm, and wore a strained expression, blood trickling down at the edge of his mouth.

“Head Captain, one day you will understand that all I did, I did it for you and Soul Society as a whole, you may not forgive me for this transgression, but it was needed if I were to protect this realm.” Aizen said before stepping through the portal, and into the land of hollows.

…

Hueco Mundo

The winds of Hueco Mundo blew over the white dunes. A broad form all but melting into the scenery, if not for his long black beard, and large set of red prayer beads around his neck he would be all but invisible in the white wastelands.

Ichibe Hyosube, the Leder of the Zero division had come to survey the area. If it is warranted, he would call for back up, but that was highly unlikely. As one who guards the Soul King he possessed extraordinary power, those in the lower world should not pose a challenge, much less a threat to him. And thus, the Monk Who Calls the Real Name set foot into the domain of the Supreme One.