Out in the lonely sands of Hueco Mundo, far far away from the castle of Las Noches, Agito Diabolos sat cross legged on a dune. Across her lap sat Michael, her zanpakuto, unsheathed and radiating heat in gentle pulses. It's been awhile since she last trained with Michael and she had felt the time was right to start. Something inside her was changing and she needed to know what before the upcoming war.

That morning, she had awoken from slumber and easily knew that something was different. Michael was trying to cox her back into her inner sanctum and that could only mean one thing; Michael was ready for training, she was to report for duty. She was excited what that training would entitle.

She took a deep breath in and slowly drew it out, focusing on quieting her mind to enter into her spiritual sanctum. For the last thirty years she had never been able to return without her true zanpakuto at her side but now that it was back she was more than eager to see how the place had changed. With the permission from Aizen, she had left Las Noches with the intention to train her ass off. No doubt, Aizen would send spies to try to discern how strong she was becoming and she already had plans to hide the true extent of her ability. But for now, she needed to go and talk with Michael.

She controlled her breathing, felt the very air as it caressed her skin, all the subtle shifts of the sand beneath her. She listened closely to hear the crying wind and the very distant wails of hollows. She focused inwards, calming her heart rate down, feeling each pulse of blood through her veins. Pushed deeper until she touched upon the current of reiatsu that flowed through her body. She pushed even deeper, tasting her power and surfing on the taste to the source.

Before she could realize exactly where she was going, she was already there.

She couldn't feel the wind. There was no shifting sand. She opened her eyes and was glad for it.

Surrounding her was fire.

An entire world on fire, her world had grown but it was still exactly the same, there were leaping arches of flame, jumping from burning tree to burning tree. Shadows dancing to whatever music was in her soul. Far off, she knew floods of lava and flame rumbled passed. There was a towering mountain above her, like a Titan of old turned to stone, in flames. Fire covered the entire mountainside and if the rumbling under her feet were any indication, it was set to not be a mountain sometime soon.

Despite all of this there was something new about her world. The sky which was usually the night sky full of stars and constellations had changed. The sky, usually a midnight blue, had turned into a deeper rich black. And there were no stars. Only brimstone streaking across the sky, their blue glow adding some color variety to the red, yellow, and orange scenery.

"Agito," said a voice of a thousand warriors. She turned around to face Michael. Except not. Michael, who used to be a Roman centurion looking zanpakuto was vastly different. For one, his suit of armor was on fire. Charred and burning off. Blood coated every inch of him but he didn't look to be in pain. Deep black cracks ran throughout his visage. It shocked Agito to see her zanpakuto like this.

"Michael," she breathed, "What is happening to you?"

"An awakening, child," Michael said, his voice overlapping and booming over the snap and crackle of the fire surrounding them. "It comes."

"What comes?"

"Destiny," he said and for some reason the flames turned white, searing hot, and Agito screamed in pain, falling to the floor. Her soul was in pain!

"What is this?!" Never had she been hurt by her inner sanctum. This world of fire was hers! Of course it wouldn't burn her! But Michael had added something new, something that wasn't her soul and it kicked her fire into overdrive.

A Holy Fire, cleansing and burning away all impurities. But she was the impurity.

"You must be prepared," Michael said, "You cannot stop this."

"It hurts!" she cried out.

"I know."

She didn't stop screaming for a long time.

...

When Agito awakened back into Hueco Mundo, she was laying down in a tight ball clutching her zanpakuto with hands nearly burned into the handle. Painfully, she ripped off her skin from the handle and sat up, using simple kido to heal her wounds. Looking around, she noticed that she was sitting in the middle of a crater of glass. Beautiful, pure white glass that glittered in the moonlight. Thankfully she was not apart of the strange phenomenon and could detach herself easily. She stood up slowly and ambled out of the crater, carefully moving to avoid all of her aching muscles. Michael had nearly killed her.

When she crawled out of her crater, Agito couldn't help but vomit the mess of blood from her no doubt hemorrhaging guts. What she would give to have a Squad Four member to help heal her, or even Inoue Orihime. But she was alone.

Or was she?

A shadow fell over her weakened form. Before she could look up, a solid foot kicked her in her gut, sending her flying into the air and crash landing on her back. She vomited more of her blood up and took too many rasping breaths before looking at her attacker.

"Diabolos," she mumbled through bloody teeth. When she was in her spiritual sanctum, she had wondered where the darkness to her light had gone. But now it was clear. He had formed out in the physical world and was waiting for her to return for a stomping.

" the Devil ordered. She shook her head.

"I can't," she mumbled, not finding any strength to even lift a finger.

," said the Devil, ."

Agito rolled to her side, moaning at the feel of her sensitized skin on the sand, her bones and tendons groaning under the abuse of movement. Slowly, she got to her feet. Her knees shook. Feet kept slipping on the sand. She kept listing to the side.

" said the Devil. The Devil, made out of shadow, cosmos, and the charred remains of a superior being, unfurled his black cape from off his shoulders to display the simplest of swords. As thin as a violin bow, the sword should not have made Agito tremble at the sight of it but it did. She leaned down where her zanpakuto lay at her feet and picked it up. Before she could get a good grip, Diabolos twisted his blade in between her hand and sword, sending the weapon flying and Agito crying out in pain as her palm was sliced open.

"!" the Devil ordered. Her foot instinctively moved to go fetch the sword but his blade struck, slicing the tendon outside of her knee and sending her down to a kneel. Her scream was short, having been forged in Heaven's ire; this was nothing compared to that.

"?" the Devil asked, clearly reading her mind, "Michael may have Heaven's wrath at his beck and call, but I am what you should fear most." He grabbed her bruised jaw and painfully gripped her face until his nails sunk into her cheeks. "."

His claws sank deeper in, scratching against her gums and teeth. Blood was choking her throat and streaming out of her mouth.

" Truthfully, Agito was having a little bit of trouble thinking around the pain and blood loss but there was something inside herself that always suspected the truth.

"You ... are-" she managed to choke out before she couldn't talk anymore. But in her head she answered.

And he smiled, so pleased and proud for her understanding.

he said with the voice of a trillion graves, unspeakable horrors, and of gods that have no names, "

'Before. After. Nothing. Eternal,' she thought and it (for surely it had no gender, no name, no form. It simply was.) smiled down upon her.

" it said, caressing her bloody face, "

She couldn't say it. She thought of it and it looked so happy, so approving that its little Shinigami was so clever.

"

Agito was beaten, defeated, broken, and bruised. Under her skin lay a carven filled with flames that threatened to eat her heart if she so disagreed. Above her was an entity of unfathomable power, will, an consciousness. What was Aizen compared to the Dark? What was even Death compared with Nothingness.

" It said, "

Choking past the blood and flesh in her mouth she uttered a weak, "Yes."

The entity of Darkness smiled wide and she hoped she was imagining the entities razor sharp teeth of all sorts of species: shark, crocodiles, hyenas, tigers, whales, and humans all jumbled in a twisted mess.

'What are you doing to me,' she wondered and it listened.

" the entity asked, pulling its clawed hands down her face to her throat, "

The black shadows of it's cape dripped down onto the ground before moving to cover Agito. Agito flinched away from the cold but it was no use. She was too hurt. The darkness was so cold, and so heavy. She yelped when she felt something lick her leg but she couldn't fight back.

" said the entity, "

She didn't even have time to scream before she was swallowed.

...

Back in Soul Society, Rue was asleep. Rue was dreaming.

She was sitting on a hillside surrounded by snowdrop flowers dazzled with dew. The moon was full overhead and the stars glittered like diamonds across the sky. She sat underneath an olive tree, a twisted olive tree that was once strong and mighty but it's leaves had recently turned withered and black. She knew what it meant.

Suddenly, screaming across the sky was a meteor. An ugly meteor of fire, smelling of sulphur. Rue could swear she heard screaming.

"Gabriel," she asked her zanpakuto at her side who stood vigilante. His mercury wings were quivering with anticipation, face tense and serious for once. "Gabriel, was that something to worry about?"

"No, my cotton candy," he denied, shaking his head. He smiled down at her and she believed him when he said, "I'll protect you from it, don't worry. It won't touch you."

"Okay," she said, going back to relaxing in her inner sanctum.

Gabriel looked off into the distance where the burning meteor had flew past.

'So it begins,' he thought but left it alone. It was not his problem to worry about.

...

He was gasping for breath.

He has been fighting his inner hollow for too long and it was draining his strength. Fighting his hollow was like fighting himself if he was always bloodthirsty. The urge to fight was draining for the Substitute Shinigami but for the hollow, it was fun.

Fun. The hollow was having fun with all of his crazy blood and battle lust. For Ichigo it was not fun. No it was fucking painful! Ever since Ichigo started coming down to his inner sanctum to try and beat the crap out of his hollow form, he'd been getting his ass whooped with a complimentary gift of hurt.

"Done yet, King?" The hollow asked with full mockery in his voice like a screaming wraith. He was swinging his white Zangetsu around looking smug as hell and Ichigo wanted so bad to wipe that grin off his face. Forcefully. Preferably with a bat.

"Not yet," Ichigo said, standing to his feet, gripping his black Zangetsu tighter so it didn't slip out of his bloody hands. He didn't know what to do. He was trying his best to beat his hollow down but what was he to do when his hollow was just as strong as he? The hollow was just as strong, just as stubborn, and just as willful as the King.

It was a nightmare trying to fight him.

"," the hollow said, his voice changing to something deeper, a frown twisting his expression and Ichigo knew that this was his hollow being serious, "

When the hollow mentioned it, he could feel it. A foreign reiatsu. A foreign reiatsu inside him! That should be impossible! He looked towards the source, the intruder and was shocked with who was there.

He should have known. Her reiatsu used to feel warm and bright, it burned when she was angry. He could recognize her spitfire anywhere. But it changed. And what the hell was she doing here?

Agito-sensei stood off to the side of them, looking at their battle like a passive witness. Her hair was cut short and styled well, she wore a black cloak made out of shadow not unlike Old Man Zangetsu. He couldn't identify the expression on her face because there was none. There was no expression.

"Agito?" Ichigo called out and her yellow eyes settled on him. He nearly flinched because those eyes may have reminded him of hawks once upon a time but now it was worse. They reminded him of why no one should look at the true forms of the gods.

" asked the hollow. It should be impossible for another Shinigami to enter the inner sanctum of another. It was more than taboo, it was a violation. And here was this woman standing there with nothing indicating how she got in.

"You-" Ichigo had to cut himself off as rage threatened to overwhelm him. She was a traitor!

"Ichigo," she called, her voice hollowed out and strangely echoing. She never sounded like that. "Who is the master of your soul?"

"What?" Ichigo asked and within the next blink Agito was right there in his face swinging a blade. Instinctively, he raised his own sword and the two sharp edges crashed against each other. What surprised even more though was the blade she had in her hands.

"What are you doing with Zangetsu?!" he demanded. So what? Now everyone gets a free copy of Zangetsu?

"Are you weak, Ichigo," she challenged, "Are you the master of your soul?"

"What," Ichigo repeated like a broken record. Agito attacked again and it was much more different than what he was familiar with. Agito fought as if every movement she made was a weapon that could cut a bitch. He had expected her to fight as she always had but something had changed.

A lot had changed.

This time she was fighting was Zangetsu, a larger, thicker, and heavy blade that her own zanpakuto. She fought like a surgeon going to war. Zangetsu, a meat cleaver looking blade, was a scalpel in her hand, the most delicate of twists turning his already dangerous sword into a lethal weapon of pain. She wanted to draw blood and she wanted to draw a lot of it.

Of course he fought back.

"Who is the master of your soul, Ichigo?!" she demanded. He didn't understand her. Who was the master of his soul? Who else?

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" he yelled and she made a quick and clever move of her blade to cut a painful wound at his ribcage.

"Who is it!?" They clashed again.

"Me!" Ichigo yelled, answering her question.

"Who?!"

"Me!" Ichigo gave a mighty swipe of his blade and she flipped into the air to take a step back.

"Are you really?" she questioned, twirling Zangetsu in her hands like an expert swordsman (which she was undoubtedly but that's his zanpakuto damnit.)

"Yes!" This time he attacked her because she's the intruder. She's in his soul. She has his weapon. And he must drive her out.

"Who is the master of your soul?!" she asked once again.

"I am!"

"Are you really?" He was so pissed off that he poured reiatsu into his blade for one swift attack. He didn't see it but she smiled.

"Getsuga Tensho!" A bright silver fang of compressed reishi was flung out of his Zangetsu. The attack didn't land. With a quick feel around his inner sanctum, Ichigo realized what had happened. She had disappeared.

" his hollow said finally stepping out of the sidelines. ."

Before the hollow could do anything, Ichigo immediately went to attack mode, slashing and cutting his way through the hollow's defenses.

"

Ichigo smiled grimly, understanding what Agito was trying to do in her own weird way.

"I am the master of my soul," Ichigo told his hollow, "You can't have it."

The next time he would see his sensei/godmother/adopted aunt, he would have to thank her for her lessons. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to do so before he would have to kill her.

...

The King had left. The hollow he had left defeated was lying on his back spread eagle staring above. He was weakened after his fight with the King but not wounded. Wounds tend to not be a problem in this world.

" the hollow asked, turning his head to look at the spirit of Zangetsu. Old Man Zangetsu still wore the face of Agito Diabolos.

She had never entered into Ichigo's inner sanctum. That was impossible. Old Man Zangetsu just took on the form of his old mentor to teach Ichigo a lesson he would only accept if it came from her.

" asked the hollow, genuinely curious. The Old Man even fooled him with his illusion. The old man with the face of Agito (god it was weird) lifted a palm and the disguise crumbled away into a bright red ball of energy in the palm of his hand.

Old Man Zangetsu still wore the cloak of shadow Agito had worn but unlike her, he seemed to encompass it more. In his hand was a tiny shred of reiatsu that felt distinctly like the traitorous Shinigami.

" the hollow began to ask but cut himself off. He knew the answer.

"Yes," the Old Man said heedless to the hollows intelligence, "Her favor. The bond that developed between her and Ichigo after prolonged exposure to each other. Her reiatsu is an extension of her will. Those she favors would always find warmth inside, those she despises would find the light snuffed out."

" asked the hollow. The flickering flame in the Old Man's hand was pulsing strange colors. It would burn bright white and hot before falling back to barely a spark of a weak red ember before flaring up again.

"I don't know," the old man admitted, "I do not enjoy not knowing."