The Resurrecting Resurreccion

As you stare up into the darkness around you and the three shadowed faces of your…possibly ex-lovers you feel a distinct pull on your heart, a tearing sensation that seems to rend your soul in two with the agony of it all.

Cirruci-chan…

Luppi-chan…

Ulqui-chan…

For a moment you wonder why they don’t respond to your question, your mouth opening to ask it once more only to find no breath to do it. A soft hiss escapes your lips as your one open eye slowly closes and you allow yourself to drift off into unconsciousness, one hand feeling the gentle palms of three beautiful women and one holding the brilliant ivory handle of your Zanpakuto in a loose and bloody fist.

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“Seems that you have gotten in over your head boy,” a low voice softly echoes, the deep baritone of a familiar voice rousing your eyes from their closed state and allowing you to take in the brilliant silver moon hanging high overhead. Slowly rolling your head to the side your hazy gaze happens upon a familiar row of rotten wooden grave markers, the aged and decaying pine slowly wasting away as a shadowed figure on horseback stands above your form.

“You…could say that…Aguila,” you wince with nearly every word, pain shooting through your body as every breath sends a lance of agony through your chest, a painful remnant of where Ulquirra has delivered a powerful slash with the edge of her razor sharp blade, “Hell hath…no fury, eh?”

A low rumbling chuckle echoes from the man before he speaks, his sage like tone speaking with humor that quickly descends into grave severity, “To the end you continue to make jokes…but this isn’t a joke you realize. That is why you are here.”

“Am…I gonna die?” you question, the first thought on your mind answered with a negative sounding grunt.

“This is far too little damage to kill us boy,” Aguila says quickly, “incapacitate but nothing more.”

“Then…why am…I here?” Your question drifts aimlessly on the whistling winds for a few moments before Aguila clears his throat with a low grumbling growl.

“Do you remember what Ulquirra said about your Resurreccion,” he begins, your body giving a weak nod in response before Aguila continues, “we are one and the same boy, I am the portion of your power that is sealed off in the form of your Zanpakuto in exchange for having clear thought and human body.”

“Then…why can…I talk to you?” you hoarsely whisper, your fists clenching as another wave of pain and warmth gushes from the wound on your thigh where Luppi served you a bone breaking slash.

“You were made from a human directly into a Vasto Lorde level Arrancar,” Aguila says seriously, “the progression was fast but incomplete and unstable. Because of this we separated slightly into two entities to regulate our power until it could be stabilized.”

“L-Like…Coyote,” your teeth grit against one another as your head throbs slightly from the concussive punch Cirruci provided you during your fight.

“Kind of,” Aguila admits momentarily before resuming his thoughts, “However, unlike Coyote who split her soul by herself and thus needed another body to help regulate it, you were helped along by Aizen’s little toy and because of this, we stabilized much more quickly and with less ‘room’ for my portion of your power to be stored.”

“Th-that’s a load…of shit,” you chuckle, smiling with a mouth full of bloody teeth as the triad of wounds on your back flow with a new river of your blood.

Aguila chuckles a bit before looking down at you, those deep and serious eyes staring into your own as he speaks, “shit or not boy, that is what happened and right now you need me and I need you.”

“I thought…I wasn’t going to..die?” Your eyes meet Aguila’s as you two meet in a solid stare, the worn and weathered flesh of his body showing the age of the spirit who had come from half of your power.

“You aren’t, but Ulquirra was right…the Shinigami will not take your actions laying down and we cannot be held back by your stupidity in dealing with your women,” Aguila says, his words speaking of truth but the callous tone in which he says that sends a snarl throughout your body and out into the open air of the desert graveyard.

“Th-They aren’t just…my WOMEN…I love each one…of them with all…of my heart and…soul!” Your body weakly tries to rise but you can’t get far, something that is not helped by the fact that Aguila now has his boot firmly pressed into your sternum.

For a moment you marvel at the sight of the mammoth man standing above you, the larger than life specter staring down at you with intense and powerful eyes. That is broken when Aguila sharply barks, “Then why the hell did they just try to kill you?”

“I…fucked up,” you growl, one hand rising up and weakly grappling at Aguila’s ankle, “I made…a mistake and…I paid for it…I deserved it…but I will fix it…I will not take…an easy way out and run…I WILL FIX IT!”

You spend the next several moments meeting Aguila’s glare with your own, the heated stare causing sweat to pour from your forehead and mingle with the blood drenching your face. The spell is quickly broken however as Aguila turns away, his face turning from your own as he speaks, “you always did have more heart than brains…alright boy, remember the question I asked you when you first arrived in my world?”

“About what…I stand for,” you grumble, the pain quickly making it very difficult to talk.

“Exactly,” Aguila says, body long and powerful strides walking away from you before he smoothly and easily mounts his massive horse, “remember what it is you stand for boy, what you represent and supply, what we can give to the ones you love and hold precious.”

For a moment your mind is trapped in a foggy haze of nothingness, your eyes slowly seeming to drift off as the loss of blood makes your mind go hazy. Yet, just as before when you had first met the spirit of your Zanpakuto you hear a soft voice in the back of your head, a siren call prompting you to speak the words of your Resurreccion, “Vivir, Aguila…”

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“John…John…why did…”

“We…no…no we can’t…we didn’t…”

“Fuck…I…I didn’t mean it! I…it hurt so badly...I’m sorry!”

The calls of the three Arrancar women echo throughout the murky hall of Ulquirra’s private training room, the sore and puffy eyes of each shedding tears over your unmoving and bloody body.

“Why…did we do such a thing,” Ulquirra numbly speaks, her hands fisted in the material of her pants as she stares down at your body.

“H-He can’t be dead, right?” Cirruci says with an awkward and tear filled smile, “J-Jhon was always powerful…th-this isn’t real right? A bad dream…”

“Shut the fuck up you god damn witch!” Luppi screeches, her hands grabbing at your limp arm as she screams, “We just FUCKING KILLED him because he was a little too fucking busy to visit us! We kept thinking he ignored us when he had all his own shit to deal with! We just fucking killed the man we love because of a goddamn misunderstanding!”

“Luppi…please be quiet,” Ulquirra weakly speaks, her normal firm and authoritative monotone shaken as she continues to stare down at your bloody body, “have respect for th-“

“Don’t even fucking say it!” Luppi surprisingly enough snaps back, her head turning from the grief stricken Ulquirra to you, “I don’t want to fucking hear it Ulquirra-SAMA!”

As the two continue to bicker amongst themselves they fail to notice your lips slightly move, a breathy voice speaking out as you whisper, “Vivir, Aguila…”

Without a word of warning the girls are thrown back by a massive flash of light, your entire body being engulfed in a fiery blaze causing the entire room to fill with the scarlet inferno that surrounds you. With wide eyes and gaping mouths the girls watch as your body begins to rise amongst the eye of the flaming tornado, your limp and bloody form being bathed in a whirlpool of crimson and chartreuse fire.

Every lick of flame burns away another wound, every wisp of thousand degree heat searing another splotch of blood into nothingness, and in the wake of your injuries raises a number of brilliant white plates of bone. Slowly, bit by bit your wounds are erased and replaced with different structures of pearly white armor, an awe inspiring collaboration of avian inspired organic protection that seems to cover you from head to toe. However, this is not all there is to your transformation; rather this is only the baseline of what is our resurrection.

As your body becomes completely engulfed in your altered state the flames of your tornado begin to shrink and condense, the ever shifting scarlet blaze drawing nearer and nearer to your armored form until at last it seems to conform to the bones of your new build. From your head to your toe you are cloaked in searing heat, the fires of your Resurreccion covering you like the feathers of a newly arisen phoenix and giving definite shape to your released state.

With your armor and ‘skin’ complete the transformation comes to a halt and all at once you are released from the tornado of flames, a harmless dispersion of the flickering flares dissolving into nothing but smoke and ash leaving you bare to the three sets of eyes upon you. Standing before them in your cloak and armor your eyes slowly open, a tired gaze staring out from the flames and bone of your Resurreccion as you speak, “I’m really sorry girls…can you ever forgive me?”