Agito vomited up her stomach lining.

Her mouth drooled saliva, stomach acid burning her throat, the taste of iron and ozone overtaking the feel of dust and grime. She groaned as she rolled over to her side, barely conscious enough to be aware that she had a side.

She died.

Or at least, she thought she did. When the Before came and took over, she had let it and then she was gone.

She was gone.

There was no thought, no noise, no conscious thought. It was just a great big empty that hollowed her insides. There was no thought. No existence. Just a strange soulful knowledge that she had gone somewhere and came back with nothing. Missing time. Missing place. Missing existence. It was all vaguely familiar.

She had died.

But now she’s back.

Agito struggled to open her eyes, her weary body having taken a heavy toll from surviving both Michael and the accursed entity that dwelled in wait for Aizen’s rebirth.

Wait, Aizen.

With more motivation to open her eyes, she blinked awake. Her eyes saw spots of black and white flashing and her stomach rolled with nausea. She didn’t feel wounded. Just extremely tired. Like her body had been sapped of all its energy. She couldn’t even feel her own reiatsu. It was gone.

Figures.

She struggled to move, tapping into her own willpower to get her lethargic limbs to work. Her arms came under her and with a great heaving push, she brought herself up. Agito waited a few moments to let her body orientate itself, looking around at the destruction her fight wrought.

Oh.

The landscape was completely barren. Entirely flat, as if the mountains were crushed to dust. Thunderclouds rumbled overhead but instead of their heavy purple, pregnant with lightning, the clouds were blue and burdened with rain.

The first few drops allowed Agito to become aware of something else.

She was covered in blood. Wet, gleaming, bright red blood and she was bathed in it, the smell of iron and early rot stinking up her nose.

“Ugh,” Agito articulated before raising her hand to touch her face. She still had a mouth, a nose, and two eyes. Her hair was long though, grown from her exponential power bursts. Her blue locks had turned black from the blood.

She wasn’t wounded and she didn’t want to think of where all the blood had come from.

She looked down at herself, taking in her two arms and two hands, both five fingered. She wore the tattered remains of her Hueco Mundo uniform, blood soaked and burnt from all the damage she had gone through today. She still had a whole chest, two legs, two feet. There was no abnormalities.

But Agito could swear that she grew more limbs.

Pushing that nightmare thought away, she heaved herself up. A soft rumble of thunder came in the distance and the rain poured harder, quickly soaking the ground. By the time Agito stood on her own two legs, the rain had turned into her personal shower, the red blood finally washing away.

Agito looked around, trying to see if there was anything in the plain that could serve as a landmark. In the distance, she saw … something. She had a feeling she knew what it was. A dark, heavy emotion settled low in her but before rising, overtaking her stomach, heart, lungs, throat, all the way up until her eyes went tunnel vision. She walked.

Aizen laid crumbled into the ground, his eyes were weakly open and blinking past the raindrops. He wore nothing but the last of his white hakama, ripped and burnt also from his many transformations. His arms were mangled. His legs twisted. His chest was crushed. He spat up blood as his lungs heaved for breath. But in his heart laid a tiny ounce of reiatsu.

The Hougyoku was nowhere to be seen.

Aizen didn’t feel Agito’s approach because she had nothing to feel. He only heard her wet footsteps splashing into the wet earth. He couldn’t move his head but his eyes roamed until they landed on her.

God she was still beautiful.

Dripping in blood, awashed with the rain, her long hair fell down in thick waves, her golden eyes were wide, alive, and staring.

“Look at you,” he said in approval, coughly a little past the blood, “Mi Reina, savior of the world. How does success taste?”

She was silent, still staring.

“Ingenious plan that,” he admitted, “Have your … Michael … strip me of my Shinigami powers. Never had I foreseen the Hougyoku to take over but clearly you did. Have a monster greater than a Creation God take care of it. Perfect, truly.

“And now you’ve saved the world, and no one will thank you for it. No one wants to see a Judas as the hero. There was nothing heroic about War and … whatever that monster was. They will curse you. Turn you into a story to fear. ‘Beware the Goddess of Battle, bathed in blood,’ they’ll say. They’ll hunt you down and lock you up alongside me.

“We’re going to be the greatest of cellmates.”

Agito moved fast. She dropped down onto Aizen’s broken chest, pressing her knees down onto his shoulders. Her hands wrapped around his throat tight and with weak fingers she squeezed. But she was too weak to strangle him.

“What do you plan to do?” Aizen mocked while chuckling, “Even now, I still have more power than you. An ounce is more than nothing. You have no reiatsu, no weapon, no strength to kill me.”

“No,” Agito said, her voice deep and rough from her hatred, “But I have teeth.”

Aizen’s eyes widened in realization and horror as Agito slowly bent down, her wet hair cutting them both off from the world. The intimacy was striking. Her hands moved to cup his face, drawing her thumbs under his jaw to lift his chin up.

“No,” Aizen said, wiggling what little he could move to try and dislodge her but Agito was immoveable, “Don’t-”

Agito wasn’t listening. Her entire focus was on the soft give of his throat. She could feel his heartbeat thumping and all she could see was just how tiny and breakable he was under her hands.

She leaned down further to stretch her teeth around his arteries.

And she ate.

...

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