World Of Bleach: Inflitration

[Antaeus]

While waiting to officially be part of the WoB world, I figure I'd try my hand at a story in your universe. However, as in all things rping, I believe it should have a collaborative component. Therefore, I would appreciate feedback, and will allow others to continue my story if they choose. I would also welcome the chance to include some of your characters. PM me if you want this, and I will do my best to utilize them in a way that reflects your hopes for them. Notably, all characters currently created by me here (which can also be used in anyone else's rps or stories) are low level arrancars/shinigami, so one need not be that high level on this board to be a hero or villain of the story. The current cast of characters is below.

Cast of Characters
1) Guillermo Falernia
a. An arrancar, but not an espada or Vasto Lordes. Guillermo in his normal form is a slight, weaselly looking man, appearing to be in his early thirties with short, slightly beyond military haircut, carefully trimmed goatee, and a pair of longish sideburns made out of the fragments of his hollow mask. He is dressed in a pinstripe black suit, with dress shirt and ascot to match. His immaculate dress shoes are black, but the shoelaces appear to made out of hollowfied skeleton material. His Zanpukato is accented with gold whenever possible, including pommel, handle, and sheath
b. Resurreccion: Tortuosa Cameleon (Devious Chameleon)
i. Command: Duplicate (duplicar)
ii. Form: in his released state, Guillermo’s face is largely obscured by what appears to be the skull of a lizard, although his smile shows through the surprisingly small teeth. His suit has now turned arrancar white, and claws have grown around his hands and shoes. Most impressively, he now has skeletal tail, with a point like a double blade
iii. Res ability: “perfect duplication” (perfecta duplicacion)
Once Guillermo has gotten a taste of a spirit’s blood, he can turn himself into a perfect doppelganger of that individual, down to his reiatsu signature. Most dangerously, this allows him to enter Soul Society undetected, if he has copied a soul reaper.
Arnold St. Clair
A human with unusually strong spiritual power, Arnold St. Clair was a police officer in Albuquerque vice when he had to gun down a criminal in a shootout. Even more shocking to him was when he saw a gigantic hollow swallow the newly made soul before his eyes. The sheer power of it made St. Clair realize one thing- he didn’t know what he was looking at, but he wanted to be more like it. The Hollow was about to eat its living admirer, but was abruptly stopped by the arrival of Falernia. The comparatively weak arrancar saw in St. Clair a chance to finally make a name for himself. He just had to be patient.
Taka Misawa
Member of Squad 7. Sent to New Mexico on a “patrol mission” which in his case is meant to be the ceiling on his potential as a shingami member
Matuharo Inoki
5th seat, Squad 7
Matuharo was the pride of his neighborhood in Rukongai, picked first for both basketball games and to help young strong souls like himself improve their fighting skills. However, his secret advantage was becoming the favored client of Spirit cook extraordinaire Daisuke Morimoto. His access to nutritious and delicious meals raised his spiritual power to the point that he was able to gain admittance to soul society. No longer a big fish in a small pond, poor Matuharo has had some trouble adjusting, but the unexpected arrival of his old friend to Squad 10 has recently put him in a good mood.
Zanpukato name Kukoyoseki Gado [Obsidian Sentry]
Sealed state: Inoki’s sealed zanpakuto is decorated black wherever decoration is possible, except for three white snowflake-looking charms attached on either side of the hilt.
Release: Smile [Warau]
Released State: Kukoyoseki Gado, when released, is a cutlass with full basket. The blade is almost pitch black, and the basket is black iron with a large snowflake embossed on the front.
Zanpukato shikai ability: Heigo (Absorption)
Kukoyeseki Gado has the power to absorb the kinetic force of blows that strike it, and then channel that force back into its responding strikes. However, Inoki is just beginning to master his zanpakuto’s ability, and does not yet use this power to its full extent.
Daisuke Morimoto: See Intro page, and zanpakuto page for his weapon

[Antaeus]

Prologue: Forty years before current timeline

Almost 90% of police officers go their entire career without firing their gun. Sargent Andrew St. Clair of Sacramento, California was about to do so for the ninth time. Some people might think that this was because he liked action. Liked violence. Nothing could be further from the truth. Even after 22 years on the force, the bitter taste of adrenaline in St. Clair’s throat before a confrontation was still quite bitter. Truth be told, Sargent St. Clair didn’t even injury hurting and killing criminals…. most of the time. No, what St. Clair liked, and kept him waking up happy without an alarm clock at 4:30 AM, was power. When Andrew St. Clair put on his uniform and badge, he held the future of every criminal in town in his hand; whether or not they had a future was also entirely up to him. Even more so than the promotions St. Clair had twice turned down so as to keep in the field, the authority of walking through his city badge blazing was what truly meant power to the officer. At least, what it would mean for him until today

˘You know how this ends, Martinez!˘ St. Clair shouted as he took his position behind his patrol wagon. A .22 caliber round into the hood of his car indicated that the would-be home invader he was chasing did not in fact possess this knowledge. St. Clair sighed and prepared to fire back from his knees. Aaroneio Martinez would probably not walk again without a limp, but he would walk. St. Clair spun and fired, instinct taking over just a second before he realized that Martinez had had the same idea as he did. St. Clair’s bullet flew directly into Martinez’ forehead, and the officer new that he was dead before he hit the ground. Andrew sighed; not what he had intended, but a comic book had told him that great power comes with great responsibility. With a nod to his partner, he started to move towards the body… and lifted his head up to see Martinez standing up, without a scratch on him.

St. Clair was dumbstruck. How could this streetwalker be standing after taking a bullet between the eyes. Then he looked beyond the standing criminal, and saw Martinez’ corpse, lying dead on the ground just as he should. This made the situation even more confusing St. Clair, now so out of sorts that he could not even brace himself when the standing criminal attempted to kick him in the head, or react when the crook’s leg passed through him like nothing. Gathering his senses, St. Clair prepared to respond, when he saw the standing Martinez suddenly go as white as the corpse of Martinez behind it. Andrew followed his opponent’s eyes and saw why. Standing before the two of them was what appeared to be a 5 ton, hairless bear. Well, it was like a bear, but it was all a solid burnt orange color except for the strange, white mask on its head that reminded St. Clair of the Kabuki masks he had taken his niece to see at the art museum, and the pitch black whole in its chest. The officer had only a moment to take in the sight before him before the beast stiffened, leapt at the standing Martinez, and swallowed him in a single gulp.

St. Clair knew he should have been scared. Terrified even, of the inexplicable beast before him. Instead, he was jealous. All this time, he thought that power came from a gun a badge. Now he knew that TRUE might was something far greater, something that this being had, and he wanted. The monster turned back and roared, but St. Clair just walked toward it. ˘Make me like you.˘ He asked.

If the monster made anything out of St. Clair’s plea, it didn’t show it. As it prepared for what Andrew could only assume would be a fatal leap at him, a flash of red struck it from above, and the monster simply disappeared. In its place stood what appeared to be a man of slight build, wearing a tailor made white suit with tie and matching shoes. Indeed, the only thing that appeared other than human on him was the fact that his long, sculpted sideburns appeared to be literally sculpted out of the same substance that made the earlier monster’s mask. Still, St. Clair could literally feel the superior power emanating from the new arrival, and knew that it was accompanied by an intelligence the earlier creature lacked for all its force. The being, or whatever it was, turned towards Andrew and spoke, his tongue slipping around the words as if it were secretly forked. ˘Such Spiritual Power for a living soul. I think you might make a valuable hollow in time. I will come for you then. And don’t worry about your partner.”

With that, the man, for lack of a better word, was gone, leaving nary a trace. And just as he’d said, Andrew’s partner did not seem to have the slightest clue about the world-changing event that had occurred five feet from him. At that moment, Andrew decided two things: that he would follow the man he had just seen into hell itself, and that whatever a Hollow was, he wanted to be one.

[Antaeus]

Taka Misawa was bored. Again. For the 29th time in 30 days, there were no hollows to be found in Richmond Virginia. Heck, even souls needing Konsu were down, and most of them were such old souls, literally and figuratively, that they lacked the energy to respond to the sudden appearance of the anachronistic-looking Shinigami in their midst. Taka sat down on a convenient park bench in Staunton, Virginia, and placed his zanpakuto across his knee. “Might as well make use of the time,” Misawa said to himself. He once again attempted to commune with his Zanpakuto. Taka knew that if he could just learn his weapon’s name, he would be win a seat on squad 7 in no time, or at least a more exciting region to patrol.
Forty five minutes later, and Misawa still had not heard a peep from his Zanpakuto. He surmised that it must be a very strong spirit indeed if it was so hard to reach; other, less positive explanations never occurred to him. As he continued his patrol, he sensed a soul newly liberated from its body, seemingly in the hills next to the highway. Taka quickly made his way there, where he found the spirit of a 16 year old girl, a soul chain falling forward from her pink camisole, tears in her blue eyes.
“I was sleeping, and now I can’t touch anything, and there’s this thing on my chest. What’s going on, am I…ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.
Taka looked at the new soul, a worn look on his face. Souls were definitely the worst part of being a Soul Reaper.
“It’s okay,” Taka said. “You’re going to Soul Society now.” He turned the bottom of his Zanpakuto towards the girl. “It’s okay, I’m just going to perform…”
---Slash---
Taka fell to the ground, as the teenage soul retracted an arm that shot through his exposed midsection. Except, it wasn’t a girl’s arm that pulled back, but an arm encased in a white suit, with bone white claws encasing its hand. With his last bit of energy, Taka looked up at his assailant, as parts of her body started to change color and position, like it was made out bits of double sided tiles. Inch by painful inch, the girl with a soul chain turned into a man, in an immaculate white suit, with bone claws on his hands and pure solid white fragments for sideburns. And a gaping hole beneath his clavicle. It was a hollow; no, not a hollow Taka realized.
“Arran-car,” the shinigami gasped.
“Indeed, I am.” Said the well dressed man, kneeling down to his opponent. “Guillermo Falernia.”
The Arrancar now held his face close enough for Misawa to smell his acrid breath. “You know, you’re my first. Almost two centuries now, and I’ve never killed a Soul Reaper before. This is a really big day for me, and I hope somewhere you can appreciate what a big role you played in it.”
Taka hacked out one more question. “How?”
Falernia licked the Soul Reaper’s blood off one of his claws. “It’s a talent I have. Perfect duplication. If I taste a soul’s reiatsu, I can mimic everything about them. Their appearance, their unique spiritual pressure, even their memories. Even your wife won’t know the difference. And yes, I do know all about Bini now.”
As Taka realized the horrific implications of what the Arrancar said, he tried to scream. To beg Falernia not to hurt his family. But no words came out. Falernia walked over to Misawa’s fallen Zanpakuto, and knelt before it.
“Well, I will miss being such a young and innocent looking soul, but I have to admit I’ve always wondered. Can a Zanpakuto notice the difference between its real master and my copy?”
Falernia cracked his neck. “Duplicare, Cameleon.”
From his vantage point, Taka was thankfully incapable of seeing the Arrancar as inch by inch, hair by hair he turned into a precise doppelganger of the fallen Soul Reaper. However, he could hear his own voice say “Hmm, seems not to notice at all.”
There are frightening things you learn about as a soul reaper. But no class, no rumor among squad members late at night, had ever mentioned what it would be like to be slain with your own Zanpakuto. Taka Misawa now knew, but he wasn’t going to tell anyone.

[Antaeus]

Chapter Two (like chapter one, and all following chapters, this is set in the current WoB story world)
:Sorry about the length: hope it is worth it:

--Soul Society—
Matuharo Inoki, a senior member of Squad 7, sat where he had sat many of his free afternoons for the past 20 years: on the lawn outside the barracks of Squad 10, in front of a food cart. The cart in question was known throughout Seiretei for selling the best snacks in the city. It was also owned by Daisuke Morimoto, Inoki’s best friend from his Rukongai district despite being, physique-wise at any rate, a full two decades older than he. This, more than the food, is what brought Inoki back to the cart again and again, although the hometown discount didn’t hurt.
“Something special today, Matuharo,” said Daisuke, “One of the Shinigami patrolling the living world recommended it to me. Calls it a “taco.” He presented Inoki with shredded chicken in a tortilla style wrap, albeit with miso and hoisin dressing instead of the usual salsa. The Squad 7 member laughed and said “No, just the usual.” Two of Morimoto’s classic sticky buns later, the two old friends from the wrong district of Rukongai lay in the grass. As he polished off his second of what would end up being half a dozen such buns, he reflected on his and his friend’s time as Soul Reapers. By all accounts, Morimoto should be immensely frustrated. He’d been a soul reaper thirty years now, only ten less than he had, and didn’t even know his Zanpakuto’s name. Inoki on the other hand had repeatedly proven himself against squad members and hollows, and had successfully released Kukoyoseki Gado 18 years ago. Yet, his good friend continued to rejoice in his small advances and shrug off small setbacks, while Inoki’s inability to attain a high seat in Squad 7 regularly kept him up nights. Matuharo and repeatedly asked his friend how he kept such high spirits, but Daisuke only replied “I came here to be a cook, not a warrior. Everything else is a just a bonus.” Indeed, Morimoto even “communed” with his Zanpakuto by placing it across his food cart while prepping his famed soups. Why was it then that Inoki believed that his friend, and not himself, truly understood what it meant to be a Shinigami?
“I know that face,” Daisuke said to Matuharo, snapping him out of his ruminations. “You’re back in your head again. Can’t keep doing that. It’ll give you wrinkles, and I’ve got enough for both of us.”
Inoki couldn’t help but laugh, and the rest of the afternoon went pleasantly until a Hell Butterfly landed on Matuharo’s finger. He had been summoned to the world of the living, but why?
--Staunton, Virginia—
Inoki arrived in Virginia, and set out for Hospice of the Shenandoah. As it turns out, his afternoon of rest had been interrupted by Taka Misawa, inarguably his most irritating Squad 7 compatriot. Misawa had claimed that a person with unusually high spiritual power was about to pass over, and that hollows were targeting him. Inoki was fairly certain that this was simply Misawa’s attempt to make his dead end patrol position look more impressive, but the squad commander insisted that he was better safe than sorry. He walked into the hospice, unnoticed by all the living beings around him, until he made it to the room of a Mr. A. St. Clair. Within 10 feet of the room, Matuharo immediately revised his opinion of his colleague’s assessment. This man, this police officer judging by the cards in his room, had spiritual power unlike almost anything he had felt before in a living soul. If he was turned into a Hollow, there’s no telling the destruction he could cause.
Taka Misawa’s familiar spiritual alerted Inoki to his presence. Taka looked well at present, but the rips in his Haori indicated a recent, dangerous struggle. Inoki saw Misawa catch his glance and shrug “Three Hollows attacked last night. I took care of it, but I figured I call for backup for today, just in case.”
Inoki thought to himself that Misawa was probably exaggerating his exploits a touch, but then turned his attention to St. Clair’s room. Apparently, the man had just died in his sleep. Taka looked at Matuharo and smiled. “Maybe you should perform the Konso. I’ll stand guard in case any Hollows attack.”
Typical Taka Misawa, thought Inoki. Always finds a way to do as little work as possible. He looked over to the soul of the old man. Andrew St. Clair had died sleeping shirtless, and with his bedsheet trapped partially in his medical wristband. This was strange, as Inoki had learned from his own patrols that older humans typically kept clothes on, if only to keep warm despite their slower pumping hearts. The senior squad member turned to the soul. Unlike Misawa, he took this part of the job seriously. “I know this is scary, but I’m going to take you to a better place. Just try to stay calm.”
Inoki raised his zanpakuto, and prepared to perform the Konso, when the soul suddenly swung his soul chain into the Soul Reaper’s face. The unprepared Matuharo recoiled, and the soul took the opportunity to swing the chain into the Soul Reaper’s wrist, sending his zanpakuto from his grasp. Inoki was almost too shocked to call for help. What soul would ever attack a Shinigami?
“Taka!” he shouted.
Misawa turned to Inoki and outstretched an arm. This bizarre scene was thankfully going to come to an end, although Matuharo hated the idea of owing his “comrade” anything.
“Bakudo #1: Sai.” He said. And Matuharo’s arms were suddenly locked in place, stretched out. St. Clair’s spirit took the opportunity to wrap his soul chain around Inoki’s neck. Misawa looked at him, a predatory smile creeping along his face.
“You know, Misawa never learned to do a bakudo beyond #10, but his Sai was phenomenal. Almost Lieutenant level. He had some promise with Kido, pity he never tried to do anything he wasn’t already good at.”
“He just referred to himself in third person.” Thought Inoki, “Almost as if he was…not Misawa at all.” However, he had no time think about this as St. Clair removed his Haori, with “Misawa’s” Sai locking his arms in place without affecting the soul’s efforts as the theoretically more powerful Hainawa would have. Taka would never have thought through something that carefully. But what did this being want with his dress?
The supposed shinigami turned to Inoki. “You know, for a man in the same squad as you, Misawa really didn’t like you very much. I kind of think that I’m doing to you what he always to, rest his soul. Mr. St. Clair, if you wouldn’t mind.”
The inexplicably violent soul bound Inoki with his own belt, seemingly superfluously, while the false Misawa raked him across the chest with his zanpakuto, one that Inoki recognized as unmistakenly belonging to the real shinigami. Whatever this…thing was, it had killed Taka Misawa. And now, it was licking Matuharo’s own blood off of Misawa’s sword. Then, before Inoki’s eyes, the man before him transformed. The slight build and immaculate suit did nothing to diminish the sinister, but not overly strong, spiritual pressure before him. The circumstances suddenly became more clear, and more dire.
“Arrancar.” Inoki spat.
“Surprised? My ability does that to people. But you haven’t seen the best part yet.”
“Duplicate, Cameleon.”
If Matuharo Inoki found watching the Arrancar before him turn from Taka Misawa to his true form frightening, watching it mutate inch by inch into a perfect clone of himself was downright horrific. But nothing matched the feeling of watching the Arrancar pick up Inoki’s own zanpakuto.
“Now, Taka’s sword cut for me without complaint, but even his real self couldn’t make his blade release. But you, Inoki-san, you have a much stronger bond with your weapon don’t you. I wonder how it’ll respond to me. Now, how does it go? Oh yes.”
“Smile, Kukoyoseki Gado.”
Matuharo stared in disbelief as his Zanpakuto released, turning into a jet black cutlass with its distinctivene snowflake decoration on the hilt. This Arrancar had copied him so perfectly that even Kukoyoseki Gado couldn’t tell the difference. But why then did he need Inoki’s haori? Then he noticed St. Clair handing the Hollow Inoki’s communicator, and then putting the haori over his chest. His bare chest.
“Central Command?” the Arrancar spoke into the communicator. “Taka was right. We were attacked by Hollows outside the soul’s room. We protected the spirit, but… we lost him. Can you transport me to his father’s home in Rukongai? I’d like to tell him the bad news myself.”
A door to Soul Society spontaneously presented itself before the Arrancar, looking and feeling for all the world like Matuharo Inoki, stood before it. Andrew St. Clair pulled his old sheet over Inoki’s Haori and his chest, completely concealing his soul chain. Suddenly it all became clear. If this Arrancar could copy Inoki’s spiritual pressure like he did Misawa’s, he could enter soul society without tripping any alarms, and unlike Misawa Inoki was expected to be in Seiretei. St. Clair’s soul, with its soul chain covered, would appear to be just another soul, until the Arrancar turned him in the middle of Rukongai.
A soul as powerful as St. Clair becoming a Hollow among a city full of unprotected soul, without Soul Society’s advance warning system to alert the Soul Reapers…
The Arrancar with Matuharo’s form turned to the soul reaper. “Good bye, Matuharo Inoki. I think I will enjoy being you for a while.”
Matuharo sought for some way, any way, to avoid being sliced open by his own Zanpakuto. When the Arrancar switched personas, his kido had gone away, but Inoki could still not fight back as long as he was bound, and St. Clair had pinned himself to his back, and out of Inoki’s Kido range…
But the floor on the other hand…
“Kido #12: Fushibi!”
Matuharo caused an explosion directly in front of him, the force knocking St. Clair’s spirit off of him, and opening a hole in the floor. Instinctively, the shinigami dove through, away from his captors, and ran away to regroup.
St. Clair’s spirit turned to the Arrancar he knew as Guillermo Falernia, now in the form of the escaped Soul Reaper. “Should we chase after him, sir?”
“No,” Said Falernia, his smile no less disturbing on Inoki’s face than it was on Misawa’s, as the door to Soul Society opened. “After “he” kills a squad leader, every Soul Reaper in heaven and earth will chase him for us.”

[Antaeus]

Chapter Three
:Soul Society:
Even Guillermo Falernia had to admit that the funeral for Taka Misawa had been sweet. Squad 7 had paid for the entirety of the service, and had placed a gravestone for Misawa among the Soul Reapers who had died heroically in battle over the millennia. The squad captain had even given a tribute to him almost as stirring as his wife Bini’s. Given what Falernia knew about the interactions between the two, this was nothing short of a miracle. Still, well laid plans don’t execute themselves, and immediately afterwards the Arrancar got back to work.
First, Falernia went back to the squad seven training grounds; several other, mostly low level Soul Reapers were there as well, the day’s events providing a chilling reminder of the necessity of improving one’s abilities. Sadly, Guillermo could not become a better version of Matuharo Inoki, although he had to admit that the shinigami he had trapped in the human world was stronger than he. Of course, that was the problem with everyone in the spirit world, Soul Reaper and Hollow alike; they couldn’t understand that, with the right perspective, what type of power you held could be every bit as valuable as how much of it you had. Plus, Guillermo thought as he turned to the automaton wooden dummy he would practice on, there was something he could improve about the identity he had assumed.
“Smile, Kukoyoseki Gado.”
Once he released Inoki’s Zanpakuto, Falernia began parrying blow after blow from the dummy. As he did, the Black cutlass pulsed in his hands. Due to the Arrancar’s access to Inoki’s memories, he knew that the Zanpakuto was taking in the kinetic energy of each strike, which could then be channeled into a single, devastating blow. In Falernia’s opinion, this Zanpakuto and its glorious ability had been utterly wasted in its “rightful” owner’s hands. A quick analysis of Inoki’s memories showed that he treated his Zanpukato the way he treated himself, expecting immediate improvement and gratification. However, Kukoyoseki Gado’s name reflected its character. The Obsidian Sentry wanted to defend, not attack, and its power rewarded patience. When Matuharo released its stored power after it absorbed only two or three strikes, it was merely impressive. Falernia, on the other hand, had just parried 15 blows from the dummy, even taking a strike on the shoulder to do so. Now, it was time to see what Kukoyoseki Gado could really do.
“Yorokubo.”
Falernia, in his guise as Matuharo Inoki, simply turned his wrist with the order, and let Inoki’s Zanpakuto truly “Rejoice” for the first time. In an instant, the training dummy was nothing more than splinters. The rest of Squad 7 looked up from their training to survey the carnage; it was clear to Falernia that the Matuharo Inoki had rarely if ever made such a spectacle. Walking away keeping the appearance of humility as much as smile, the arrancar could not suppress his own crooked grin from creeping across the copied face of the Shinigami. Clearly, he was a better Matuharo Inoki than Inoki had ever been.
As he walked away from the practice area, Guillermo Falernia reflected on his luck. Inoki was not nearly strong enough to defeat most strong shinigami on his own, but used correctly his Zanpakuto could generate enough power to take down almost any of them, even a lieutenant. All that Falernia would need to accomplish his plan, and return to Hueco Mundo to a hero’s welcome and with enough power to guarantee him his long hoped-for spot in a fraccion, was a distraction. And the perfect one was in Rukongai, waiting to be activated.

[Antaeus]

Chapter Four
:Staunton, Virginia:
It wasn’t until Matuharo Inoki had escaped from the Hospice of the Shenandoah that he could truly take stock of his situation. Then, the care and detail of the Arrancar’s plan truly set in. Without his communicator, Zanpakuto, or haori, Inoki had no way of warning Soul Society about the impending attack on them. The Hollow had also convinced Andrew St. Clair to move from his previous home in Richmond (according to his framed police badge), a city whose population required at least two Soul Reapers to patrol it, to the much smaller Staunton. Even if he knew where his comrades were, the nearest city with an active soul reaper patrol was fifty miles away; by the time Inoki reached him or her, St. Clair and the copycat Arrancar, whose name he still did not know, would already have accomplished their nefarious ends. Finally, by taking on his form and Zanpakuto, the Arrancar placed the blame for whatever happened next squarely on Inoki’s shoulders. Hell, even if he managed to confront the Hollow, the other shinigami would probably believe that the abomination was the real Matuharo Inoki, not him. All Inoki could do was find the highest point in Staunton and fire kido balls into the sky, in the desperate hope that someone in central command would notice something amiss and send someone to check on it. Well, that and pray that the Arrancar’s plan had not already come to fruition.
:Soul Society:
After confirming that Inoki’s Kukoyoseki Gado was capable of striking a lethal blow on a high level Shinigami, Guillermo Falernia began his trip to the 14th district of Rukongai. Even this part of his plan was carefully laid. Setting his plot up in Inoki’s home district would both provide an explanation for his presence in the area and further implicate the Squad 7 member in Falernia’s actions. He was nearly past the Inoki’s barracks when he saw the Soul Reaper’s friend Daisuke Morimoto. He was standing by the barracks with food cart in tow, and a sign reading “Squad Seven eats free.” From Matuharo’s memories, Falernia knew that this sort of generosity was typical of Morimoto. He also knew that, much as it risked his plan, he could not simply ignore the best friend of the man he was impersonating. He waved and walked towards the Shinigami chef.
“Hey, Daisuke. Thanks for doing this for my squad. It’s hard to lose a comrade.” Falernia-as-Inoki said.
“Don’t mention it, Matuharo. I’m just sorry that I’m out of your favorite pork sticky buns.” Morimoto replied. “Would you like some cold noodles instead?”
Falernia took the noodles, and thanked Morimoto. Another bullet dodged. Humans and Shinigami might be able to enjoy hot food, but 150 years of life as a Hollow had accustomed Falernia to sating his hunger for food and power on things that were about his temperature. Attempting to mime the pure, childlike enjoyment Inoki took from the pork buns would have been near impossible. As it stood, the noodles, with what Falernia guessed was pitch perfect spiciness, was easy for him to express enjoyment of. Another squad 7 member walked up to the cart, providing the Arrancar with the perfect excuse to slip away. Apparently, the entire universe wanted Guillermo Falernia to succeed and take his rightful place in Hueco Mundo.
Thirty uneventful minutes later, Falernia was with the spirit of Andrew St. Clair in an abandoned hut in Rukongai’s 14th district, thankfully returned at least temporarily to his own shape. At least, it was abandoned after Falernia had dispatched the weak souls that inhabited it. Master plan or no, a guy had to eat. St. Clair was shaking from a combination of hunger and impatience. In the reiatsu-heavy world of Soul Society, Andrew’s soul chain had already shrunk to only four links.
“Make me… like you. You promised.” St. Clair shook, and Falernia was once again reminded just how powerful a spirit he was. A normal soul would go days before being as hungry as St. Clair clearly was. Fortunately, the Arrancar wanted him hungry.
“Soon, just one more thing, Mr. St. Clair.” Falernia retrieved a silver canister from his pocket. In it, Falernia had stored the power of a single hollow each day since he had met the man thirty years earlier. Almost any other Hollow would have eaten the more than 10,000 souls himself, but Guillermo Falernia was not most Hollows; he knew that they would serve his purpose far better in St. Clair’s hands, or more accurately his mouth, where he placed the canister.
“This may be a little uncomfortable,” Andrew.
With all the ceremony of a plumber removing a clog, Falernia ripped out Andrew St. Clair’s soul chain. St. Clair quickly realized that the Arrancar was optimistic in his assessment. His spiritual body was racked with pain as his newly untethered spiritual power molded his body into something more appropriate for its talents. Veins and arteries warped and expanded, bones twisted and pushed in unimaginable directions. Skin stretched to its breaking point to accommodate the new form underneath, and then tore when it could not handle the strain. And all that was BEFORE the canister finally cracked, flooding St. Clair’s already prodigious spiritual power with that of thousands of more souls. The combined strength was more than St. Clair’s mind could stand. Quickly, although certainly not quickly in the former officer’s experience, Andrew St. Clair was erased, becoming an embodiment of the power he so long sought. In the end, his deteriorating conscience was only able to say one last thing.

“Thank you.”

[author's notes: Thanks again to Setoku for his kind works, and Rangiku for the use of her character later. Also, as a reminder, you (yes you!) can still help choose has this story ends. I still happily accept characters to integrate in, as well as constructive criticism. Finally, I am still deciding what Hollow/Adjuchas Andrew St. Clair should look like, and whether or not Guillermo Falernia will survive this arc. PM me and tell me what you think!]

[Antaeus]

:Chapter Five:
:Rukongai, district 14 North:
Guillermo Falernia had been confident that Andrew St. Clair would make a powerful hollow. Cocky even. But even he could not have hoped for what he saw before him. The Spirit of St. Clair had been replaced with a hollow in the shape of a gigantic Stegosaurus. The Hollow was 12 feet long and almost as high at the tip of its massive plates. Even though it was an Adjuchar, its spiritual power was still greater than Falernia’s, albeit not nearly as well controlled. Most importantly, the new Hollow’s appetite was insatiable, and nearly matched by its propensity for violence. Within minutes the beast had virtually stampeded a quarter of the 14th district of Rukongai, leaving nothing but ruins and blood in his wake. The sheer destruction was, in and of itself, almost enough for Falernia to declare victory. But weak souls only fed the new Adjuchas; it did not truly prove Falernia’s excellence. For that, he would need a prize. Transforming himself back into Matuharo Inoki, the Arrancar took out the shinigami’s communicator.
“Soul Society control, this is Matuharo Inoki, member of Squad 7. The 14th North district of Rukongai is under attack!”
:Staunton, Virginia:
Daisuke Morimoto stepped out of a Soul Society created portal and into the Human World. He had requested the trip for his usual reason, to collect more of the Lunaritos that the Soul Reapers preparing the portals loved, and that he gathered as part of his unofficial office of Shinigami foodie. However, his true reason for the trip was fundamentally different: to see if anything happened to his best friend, Matuharo Inoki.
Ostensibly, Inoki was fine; better than fine, really. Avenging Taka Misawa was one of Inoki’s defining moments as a Shinigami, and could have him on the path to promotion. However, something about him seemed, for lack of a better word, off. First, he had stopped to speak with Morimoto after his training, something he hadn’t down since Morimoto had joined the soul reapers. For the first six months, Daisuke was upset, until he realized that Inoki was simply lost in thought after his practice. Indeed, he was almost certain that Inoki couldn’t even remember the days when Morimoto’s food card came by Squad 7 when he was on the practice grounds. His lack of open disappointment at the lack of pork buns further confused the Shinigami chef, and so he did something morally problematic: adding extra spicy peppers to Inoki’s cold noodles. For all his toughness, Matuharo Inoki could not stand hot food, so when Daisuke saw him polish off the bowl without complaint, he began to suspect something was really wrong. This brought him to Staunton, Virginia, where Inoki’s battle had taken place. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, until he saw a red ball of kido fired into the air.
Matuharo Inoki was exhausted. Firing even minor kido blasts for hours straight is enough to drain the strongest soul reaper’s energy, and Inoki was not the strongest soul reaper. After his last, pathetic fireball, he didn’t know how much he had left. And then, catching his breath, he saw the greatest sight in his many years of existence- his best friend’s frankly awful flash step.
“Daisuke!” he shouted.
“Matuharo?” A clearly puzzled Daisuke Morimoto asked. “What are you doing here, and what happened to your clothes?”
Matuharo related the story of the Arrancar who killed Taka Misawa, taken his form, and then had done the same to him, pausing only for quick breaths. “And now he’s in Soul Society with my zanpakuto, and who knows what he’ll do.”
Daisuke grabbed his old friend, supporting Inoki’s weight with his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Matu. We’ll stop him.” And then, he swore he could hear someone talking from inside his own chest.
“Buzz buzz buzz. Have to help Inoki-san. Good friend and good customer. Buzz buzz buzz.”

[Antaeus]

:Soul Society:
Rangiku was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. Being Lieutenant of Squad 8 was an honor, but could not stand the hours of paperwork. The fact that the paperwork would not take hours if she did her reports as they came in rather than put them off for “emergency” shopping and sake drinking simply did not occur to her. “Just get through half of these, and I can go to Tomorrow’s Tiger and get more makeup. Okay, maybe a third of these.” Just as she was about to attack the stack of papers again, a call came through the communicator.
“Rukongai district 14 North under attack. Needing a squad to respond to situation.”
Rangiku, in charge of Squad 8 while her captain was on a mission, practically screamed her acceptance into the communicator. Then, tossing her paperwork into her 3rd seat’s hands in way that guaranteed he’d spend as much time organizing as filling them out, said “I’m leading the squad into battle. You’ll have to complete the reports. Sake afterwards!”
:Staunton, Virginia:
Daisuke Morimoto and Maturharo Inoki had finally reached the clearing where Morimoto’s portal back to Soul Society could be summoned. Inoki had also recovered some of his spiritual power thanks to the sesame balls that Morimoto had originally brought as a snack for himself. The portal opened before them, but before they could cross in Inoki shoved Morimoto to the ground.
“Look out!” He shouted as a man in a white Hakusho dove past them, katana drawn and swinging. The two Shinigami rose to their feet to find themselves staring up at a 5’10 Hispanic male wearing steel toed boots, short cropped hair, and a fragment of a Hollow mask that looked like the top of a short beak. He held out his Zanpakuto before him, a long arched blade that Inoki recognized as a Sickle sword.
“My name is Jesus Montero,” the Arrancar announced to them, “and I am far too important to be dealing with weaklings like you. But the boss says you gotta go, so you gotta go. Don’t worry, this won’t take long.”
Montero began another dive at the two Shinigami. Inoki braced for the attack, but Morimoto physically through him into the portal to Soul Society.
“Go save Soul Society, Matu! I’ll take care of this, it’ll be fun. Besides, who would kill a cook?”
Daisuke smiled at Inoki as the portal began to close, the laugh lines at his making little pathways to his graying temples. Inoki waved at his friend and started running into Soul Society. However, one thought kept running into his mind. Daisuke Morimoto was his best friend, but he hadn’t even earned a seat in Squad 10. At full strength, Inoki could probably have subdued that Arrancar, but Morimoto would be severely overpowered. “Hang on, old friend,” Inoki said to himself, “I’ll find a way to save you, too.”
:Rukongai, district 14 North:
As Rangiku directed the dozen lower level Squad 8 Shinigami, she treated the mission as, essentially, and extended training. Despite Inoki’s inability to handle the invasion, something that she would severely reprimand him about later, there was no way that the Hollow in Rukongai was a major threat. It hadn’t even set off any alarms in Soul Society upon its arrival, as all but the smallest Hollows do. Still, she discarded her usual playful demeanor, and reminded her retinue that the creature they were about to meet was really, truly, going to try to kill them, and that they should defend themselves accordingly. After all, even an easy battle was still a battle. Then she reached District 14 North, and realized that “easy” was probably not going to cover it.
The Hollow she saw was easily 5 tons in size, and it knew how to use every pound. The beast swung its massive tail through the ramshackle walls of the huts in the district, the four spikes on the end ripping through wood, straw, and judging by blood streaking them, souls. Bodies and carts lay trampled under the Stegosaur hollow’s massive feet, and its shoulders bore the telltale signs of having driven through some of the rare two and three story buildings in the district. Then she saw Maturharo Inoki lying among some rubble on the side of the main street in the district. The shinigami had already released his Zanpakuto, but that did not seem to have helped him. She sent two of her Squad 8 members to bring Inoki’s body behind them, where he could safely recover…
When the two shinigami appeared before him. Guillermo Falernia worried that maybe, somehow, he had been found out. Then one simply asked “Are you okay?” and helped him up before moving him behind the fight with a quick flash step. There, he could finally see the prize his plot would give him, and he once again realized that the universe itself was his co-conspirator. Rangiku was leading the charge against the former Andrew St. Clair. Rangiku, survivor of the two greatest wars in the history of soul society, a name that conjured up terror in Hollows just as it did embarrassed, blushing smiles in male soul reapers. Her spiritual power was so far beyond Falernia’s as to make a comparison laughable. But she was wide open to him, and the power he had stored in Kukoyoseki Gado while “fighting” the hollow he created was more than enough to take her down. The culmination of Falernia’s decades long plan was at hand: in one moment the soul, and the Zanpakuto, of the Deadly Beauty of the Shinigami would be his.

[Antaeus]

:Staunton, Virginia:
Daisuke Morimoto had put on a brave face to his departing friend, but he knew he was in trouble. Even a weak Arrancar was a serious challenge to a Soul Reaper who had earned a seat. To one like Morimoto who hadn’t even learned to release his Zanpakuto, fighting Jesus Moreno was for all intents and purposes suicidal.
“Buzz buzz buzz. Don’t worry Daisuke, you can win. I’ll help you.”
Again, Morimoto heard the voice in his head. However, when he gripped his Zanpakuto and turned to Jesus Moreno, Daisuke figured a little schizophrenia was the least of his worries.
“Do we have do this, Moreno-san? It’s getting late, and the sunset looks like it’ll be nice. Maybe we can just watch it together.”
Jesus Moreno, standing in midair as if on an invisible platform, did not seem to be amused.
“No more talk. Here I come!”
Moreno dove down at the ground borne Shinigami, sword held out in front of him, perpendicular to his body. Daisuke successfully parried the blow, but the force of the strike drove him to one knee. The Arrancar utilized the impact as a spring and bounced away, coming to a stop once again in midair. A second strike, and then a third, came in almost the exact same way. Each time, Morimoto successfully deflected Moreno’s strike, but the impact from the blow was not something he could withstand forever. More importantly, Moreno’s attack pattern, while predictable, did not leave a Soul Reaper of Morimoto’s level any openings. As Jesus Moreno prepared another attack, it seemed as though Daisuke Morimoto was simply not strong enough of a Shinigami to stop him. That is when he figured something out. Morimoto may not be the best Shinigami Warrior, but there was something he was best at…
As the Arrancar prepared one more diving strike, Morimoto reached into his sleeve, and threw something at his opponent. The canister hit the Jesus’ Moreno’s blade and promptly shattered.
“AAAAHHH!”
Moreno was prepared for anything that Daisuke Morimoto the shinigami could dish out, but we was absolutely not prepared to jump straight through a cloud of wasabi power. Eyes burning, the Arrancar crashed to the ground, where Morimoto pounced. Pulling Moreno’s Hakusa over his head, Daisuke delivered a series of knees to his sternum and midsection. Moreno instinctely put a hand on the ground to push himself away, but what was a safe position while standing in midair was just a target on the ground. Morimoto took full advantage, stomping on the Arrancar’s hand as hard as he could. A final hip check sent Moreno rolling to the ground.
“You’re very strong, you know,” said Morimoto, “If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have to fight like this. You should be proud of yourself.”
Daisuke charged at Moreno, but the Arrancar rolled to his feet and leapt away.
“Unforgivable! What kind of Soul Reaper are you?” Moreno asked.
“Daisuke Morimoto, maker of the best pork buns in the spirit world,” Morimoto replied, “Oh, and member of Squad 10.”
Jesus Moreno stared at the shinigami, baffled, and then drew the conclusion that he typically drew when confused. “I’m going to kill you! Behold my true form! Soar, Ave de Rapina!”
Moreno leapt into the air, surrounded by a tower of reiatsu. When he reappeared, the beak fragment that made up his mask was completed, giving him the visage of a hawk. Large, predatory wings sprouted on his back, flapping deliberately. Finally, his feet were replaced with white claws complete with fierce, curled talons that resembled miniature versions of his sickle sword, now even longer and sharper. Morimoto gulped; he could barely handle the Arrancar before his Resureccion, and he didn’t have any wasabi powder left.
“Buzz, buzz, buzz. Looks scary. Maybe I could help more if we knew each other better.”
Suddenly, Morimoto understood where the voice came from, and what he had to do next. Extending his Zanpakuto out in front of him, he spoke the words that, unbeknownst to him, he had wanted to say for decades.
“Buzz, Mibae Tsuyo!”
:Rukongai, 14th District North:
When Rangiku turned her back to face the rampaging Stegosaur Hollow he had created, Guillermo Falernia saw his long awaited chance. Raising Kukoyoseki Gado, the Zanpakuto he had stolen from Matuharo Inoki and charged to its fullest extent, the Arrancar prepared to deliver the fatal blow to the Soul Reaper Lieutenant decades in the making…
Matuharo Inoki finally arrived in his hometown 14th district, lacking Haori and Zanpakuto. He found the district in tatters and tumult, under siege by an enormous Hollow. Then he saw something even more tiring. The Arrancar who had copied his form and stolen his beloved Kukoyoseki Gado had released the blade, and was preparing to run through Squad 8’s Lieutenant. He was too far away to stop the Arrancar’s attack, and the tumult of battle made it impossible for his voice to reach Rangiku. Even his knowledge of Kido, trained to use Hados up to 37, were not capable of covering the distance between him and his Lieutenant in time. This Arrancar was going to make him into public enemy #1 in Soul Society, and there was nothing he could do about it. Then he remembered something an old colleague had said 20 years ago, before he died in the last great conflict with Hollows. Something about how a chant he’d found in an American comic book, of all things, had made his Hado #35 incredibly more powerful. Inoki had always thought his squad member’s statement was ridiculous, but desperation had a way of making you credulous.
“In Darkest Day, in Blackest Night, no Evil shall evade my sight. Let all who worship evil’s might, beware my power, Soul Reaper’s light! Hado #35 Emerarudo no ken [Emerald Fist!]”

Next Chapter: The Battles continue!

[Antaeus]

Chapter Eight
:Rukongai District 14 North:
Guillermo Falernia was inches away from the culmination of his plan, and he was focused on the prize. He was so focused, in fact, that he didn’t even feel the massive, bright green fist of reiatsu that smashed into his face as he was about to deliver his presumably fatal blow to Rangiku. He did, however, feel it a second afterwards. Without any preparation for the blow, Falernia was sent flying into a nearby pile of rubble, and more importantly could not hold onto Kukoyoseki Gado. The released Zanpakuto skittered away from him, all of the power he had stored in it still tantalizingly present.
Rangiku was intently focused on the Stegosaur Hollow, and rightly so. The beast had destroyed almost the entire 14th district, and was proving a serious challenge for the beginning Soul Reapers she had brought with her. Indeed, if the Kido attack that suddenly flashed by her was directed her way, it probably would have caught her full force. Still, her combat instincts remained sharp enough to quickly turn to face the caster of the Kido… a shirtless, bruised, and sprinting Matuharo Inoki. This made no sense to Rangiku, who turned to face the Inoki she had rescued from the Hollow, and saw him lying on the rubble. And his face contorting into various, innumerable shapes.
“What ARE you?” Rangiku asked the being she had previously believed to be Matuharo Inoki. Soon, however, she had her answer. The shock and power of the Emerarudo no ken had left Falernia temporarily incapable of maintaining Inoki’s form, particularly after hours of doing so. Slowly but surely, he returned to his true Resureccion. His hollow mask was a small lizard’s skull, complete with oversized eyes, and claws covered his stylish shoes and cufflinks. Most noticeably, a skeletal tail swayed back and forth behind the revealed Arrancar.
“So close,” Falernia hissed. “SO CLOSE!” Then turning upon Rangiku, he flung himself at the Soul Reaper lieutenant.
:Staunton, Virginia:
“Buzz, Mibae Tsuyo:
For the first time ever, Daisuke Morimoto released his Zanpakuto to reveal… an umbrella. A long umbrella, to be sure, but still, an umbrella. Jesus Moreno literally laughed aloud at the sight.
“That’s…(chuckle) your Zanpakuto? You’re REALLY not a strong soul reaper, are you?”
“No, not strong at all I’m afraid. But I’m still alive, so that’s saying something.”
After another hearty chuckle, Moreno dove down claws first to make the final kill. Which was just what Morimoto wanted; the weapon that would be a hearty embarrassment to most shinigami was absolutely perfect for his. As the arrancar made his descent, Morimoto opened the umbrella. Jesus Moreno saw this as a last, useless effort for the Soul Reaper to protect himself, realizing only too late that opening the umbrella wasn’t about protecting Morimoto, it was about hiding him. Unlike with the thin Zanpakuto blade, Daisuke could change his grip on the released Mibae Tsuyo without his opponent knowing. The hawk Hollow was therefore unaware that his opponent had choked up until the weapon suddenly and, to him, inexplicably shot forward at the least second. A last second bank allowed Montero to dodge, but Morimoto took the opportunity to deliver a quick, hard kick to the Hollow’s sternum. Unable to stop his descent, the hollow crashed into the ground and rolled a good 10 feet before getting up.
“Not bad for a weak Soul Reaper, huh?” Morimoto joked.
“Not bad? I’ll show you not bad!” Moreno replied.
The Arrancar opened its beak and formed a Cero. Daisuke Morimoto braced himself; this time the open umbrella really was for protection. Moreno fired his Cero at full force and it directed it straight at the Soul Reaper. The Cero hit Morimoto’s umbrella Zanpakuto perfectly and then…nothing. Moreno stood dumbfounded as his opponent simply stood there, hand behind his neck.
“Oh, maybe I should have told you,” the Soul Reaper said, “but I just found out myself. Mibae Tsuyo is very hungry, so it eats spiritual energy attacks.”
Jesus Moreno’s eyes widened. This….this fraction of a Soul Reaper could just absorb his Cero’s? Incredulity let to recklessness, and the Arrancar fired a second Cero. Once again, it was absorbed by Morimoto’s umbrella, which now was marked by a series of golden spirals.
“Oh. Yeah, that,” Morimoto said casually, “When Mibae Tsuyo gets full, he lets me know, so I can use his energy.”
The Soul Reaper changed his grip, and now held the still open umbrella like a shotgun. “Goodbye, Jesus Montero,” he said, and closed the umbrella. A harsh, tight bolt of reiatsu burst forth from the tip of Mibae Tsuyo like a laser beam, going into Moreno’s, through his back and wing, and out the other side. The bird hollow screamed out in pain. Daisuke charged to give the finishing blow, but a convenient Garganta opened, and Montero fled back to the friendly confines of Hueco Mundo.
“What a shame, and we were having such fun,” thought Morimoto.
:Rukongai, 14th District North:
Guillermo Falernia, having revealed his true form, lunged at Rangiku. The Squad 8 Lieutenant drew her Zanpakuto, almost contemptuously. “Growl, Haineko,” she whispered, and sword immediately turned to ash. The ashes enveloped Falernia, like tiny planes slashing skin, muscle, and organ. For once, Rangiku was serious as she spoke to the Arrancar, now invisible under the ashes of her sword release.
“If you had focused on improving your own power rather than stealing others’, you might have been a match for me. As it is….”
Rangiku returned Haineko to its sword state. Nothing was left of Guillermo Falernia and his plan but scraps of his so stylish coat. The real Matuharo Morimoto ran up to Rangiku.
“Lieutenant, are you okay?”
“Yes,” Rangiku said to Inoki, “But you’d better pick up your sword. This battle isn’t over.”
And then the two of them turned back towards the 14th district’s main square, as the last of the squad 8 new recruits was sent flying backwards by a blow from the massive Stegosaur Hollow that had once been Andrew St. Clair.

[Antaeus]

The massive Stegosaurus Hollow, once the soul of Andrew St. Clair, no longer remembered his former name. Indeed, he did not think of himself as having a name at all, at least not yet. Maybe after he defeated the pesky Soul Reapers in front of him. The Hollow did, however, remember something from his former life; the battle tactics that had made St. Clair so formidable in life. It quickly realized that keeping his long, spiked tail in motion as long as possible would essentially prevent the young shinigamis opposing him from flanking him. The foolish few who attempted typically suffered serious bruises or punctures for their trouble. The Plates on his back, hard and sharp unlike those of a true stegosaur, made attacks from above equally as futile. In fact, the Hollow quickly discovered that he could made some of his larger plates spin quickly in place, turning his back into a nest of gigantic drill bits. This left the Soul reapers he was facing no choice to stand directly in front of him, firing off worthless weak kidos or, even less threateningly, attempting to charge him with their zanpakutos. Finally, when most of them had gotten just a touch too close together, the Dinosaur Hollow thundered forward with a sudden charge. Unable to avoid the gigantic beast in time, the shinigamis bounced off him like pinballs and flew into various piles of rubble around him. The former Andrew St. Clair roared in victory. The remaining soul reaper was far stronger than the rest, but Guillermo Falernia, the closest thing the new Hollow had to a father, had promised to take care of her. The Stegosaur looked down from his rampage to watch his sire’s victory, but instead saw the arrancar disappear into a cloud of ash coming from the shinigami’s sword, and then vanish for good. The reality of the situation set in, and the Hollow let out one more, this one full of wrath. He then opened his mouth one more time, and prepared to mete out harsh vengeance to the being that had dared turn her sword on being who had made him whole.

As Rangiku turned the re-armed Matuharo Inoki back towards the battle, she noticed the Stegosaur Hollow’s massive mask gape open, and an enormous Cero begin to form. Quickly she shoved Inoki out of the path of the attack.

“Look out!” She yelled, as the Hollow’s blast skated past her and Inoki, leaving a gaping whole mere feet from them. When the two Soul Reapers got back up, Rangiku surveyed the situation. The lower ranked members of her squad were out of commission, and probably didn’t have the strength to deal much damage to the Hollow anyway. Her Haineko could deal the beast superficial damage, but it would not be nearly enough to put it down the way it did the copycat Arrancar. However, as she looked at the tired, Haori-less Inoki, she realized that there was one more possibility.

“Matuharo,” she said, as quietly as the situation allowed, “listen to me very carefully.”

After the smoke cleared, the Arrancar that was once Andrew St. Clair realized that his initial Cero had failed to vaporize his targets. He opened his mouth to prepare a second attack when he saw the more powerful Soul Reaper turn her sword to ash once more, and send at him the same attack that felled Guillermo Falernia. The Stegosaur Hollow, while spiritually somewhat weaker than the Arrancar, was physically stronger, and fanned the ash away the mighty swipe of a spiked tail that was left bleeding, but intact, by the action. As soon as the ash was blown aside, the Hollow realized that the truth; the buxom shinigami’s attack had been a distraction, meant to hide the true danger; the Soul Reaper whose Zanpakuto Guillermo Falernia had stolen… and charged to the hilt with kinetic energy. It was at this moment when the Stegosaur Hollow realized his one true weakness. While he could block or brush aside most strikes, he could dodge precious few.

“Yorukubo!”

Matuharo Inoki shouted the command that made Kukoyoseki Gado release its stored kinetic energy. It was not until then that he truly appreciated how powerful his Zanpakuto truly was. The force that flowed forth from his obsidian blade, far more than he had ever dared store, exploded forth, shattering the mask of the massive Hollow before him. The power was more than Inoki could bear in his weakened state, and he collapsed to the ground, utterly spent. However, in this case, a Pyrhhic victory was victory enough. The Hollow that had run roughshod over his home district was no more.

“Well done, Matuharo,” Rangiku said, “But if you EVER let someone else take your Zanpakuto again. I’ll kill you. Now, who wants sake?”

(tune in next time for the epilogue!)

[Antaeus]

:Epilogue:
The Stegosaur hollow was finally defeated, and the threat Guillermo Falernia presented to Soul Society was gone. However, Matuharo Inoki’s concerns were not over. Calling to central command, the Soul Reaper demanded permission to go back to Staunton. “I have to go back to Daisuke. Maybe he’s been able to hold out against the Arrancar, but he can’t survive much longer.”
“Daisuke Morimoto?” Asked the Command operator. “He’s already back. Brought back Lunaritos.”
Inoki was so happy that he could almost cry. He ran back to Seiretei as fast as his exhausted body could carry him. When he made it back into Seiretei, his old friend was waiting for him, pork buns in hand.
“You’re alive!” shouted Matuharo. Then, more quietly “How!”
Morimoto smiled at his old friend. “I had help from a new friend,” he said slyly. “Matu, meet Mibae Tsuyo.”
Morimoto released his Zanpakuto before his dutifully impressed friend. Unlike the defeat Jesus Montero, Inoki understood that having an umbrella for a Zanpakuto fit his old friend like a glove. “Congratulations, Daisuke! So, what does it do?”
The duo spent the rest of the day talking about their adventures, and Mibae Tsuyo’s apparently loudly suggested ideas for new menu items. As the conversation progressed, the topic kept coming back to how their friendship and their Zanpakutos had a lot in common. While the two looked different, and had different skills, somehow they both wanted the same thing: To protect and improve the people they cared about. Inoki’s just wasn’t as fond of miso.
:Hueco Mundo:
Guillermo Falernia didn’t have a chance. Rangiku’s released Haineko surrounded him, slicing face, body, and even internal organ from when he involuntary breathed in the devastating ash. He had closed his eyes and accepted death… and then opened them to realize that he wasn’t in fact dead at all. Somehow, he made it back to Hueco Mundo, badly wounded but alive. Someone must have opened up a Garganta directly underneath him, but who could be so powerful as to open a portal to Hueco Mundo in the ground? A voice behind him made him realize that, for better or for worse, he was about to find out.
“Impressive. I wouldn’t have thought that a single arrancar could cause so much damage by himself. Particularly one with your spiritual pressure. Anyone can have power, but few can have perspective. That’s what makes Hollows like you and I so special.”
Somehow, the praise coming from the Hollow behind him was more terrifying than censure could ever be. As was the Arrancar casually thrown over his head and to the ground in front of him. One that Falernia immediately recognized as Jesus Montero.
“Most of us don’t develop, or learn, even after fifteen years. After a while, they simply become useless. But you, you have potential don’t you. Particularly in the right hands. And all I could do in the Stasis pod was come up with ways of using people with potential. Now, let’s see if your power works on Hollows as well as it does on Soul reapers”
A napkin soaked with what wasSuddenly, it all snapped together for Falernia. But only one word escaped his lips.
“Setoku!”

[Well that's it. Thanks again to Rin for suggesting the storyboard, and Setoku and Rangiku for their support. Hopefully, Daisuke gets approved and then the games can really begin]

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