Chapter One

A dark figure stole into the halls of Las Noches, occasionally turning its head to see if anyone had spotted it. It shook its head at the thought. The body clock of the arrancars had adjusted to the artificial sky Aizen had installed within the dome. Unless the Octava Espada decided to continue his experiments, worrying over something like that was complete foolishness.

The moonlight shone through the lone window in the hall, and for a moment, it distracted the figure from its course. It was only during the night that Aizen allowed the natural beauty of Hueco Mundo to take over his beloved sunlight. A mist of light gave the vial the figure held a faint glimmer, snapping it out of its musings and reminding it of its mission. Deciding to shorten its travel time, it sonidoed to the hallway three corridors from where it had been.

Five sets of heavy double doors were on either side, facing each other like sentries in a palace. Their color matched the pristine walls of Las Noches, a pitiful attempt at disguising the layers of deception that constituted the foundation of the Hollow world. There were no markings on any of the ten, but only a fool would not know where this was. The Espada rooms.

Grinning, the figure strode towards the third room to his right. It was only a matter of time before it finally got the justice it deserved. Fortunately, the door had not been locked, and it saved the figure the trouble of finding another way of breaking into the room.

The room was surprisingly neat, with no litter or things scattered on the floor. A large desk was pressed against the right wall, decorated with a table lamp and a few pieces of paper. A couch sat opposite the desk and stared at a tiny coffee table cowering beneath its size. The rest of the room was barren, save for the king-sized bed that ruled the midsection of the area.

The figure moved in closer to inspect it. Fours posts stood on the corners of the frame, each with a bright blue curtain strapped down with a piece of cloth. A duvet of a similar shade hid the body on the bed, but a shock of teal hair poked through the top. The figure peeled back the blanket and smiled, resisting the sudden impulse to laugh. There, lying completely defenseless, was his target, the Sexta Espada. Without the psychotic grin, his face maintained a peace one would not normally associate with the battle hungry Sexta.

Careful not to make any noise, the figure uncorked the bottle and immediately recoiled as a sharp, bitter scent filled the room. Grimmjow stirred from his position, stilling the movements of his assailant momentarily. When it was certain that the blue-haired arrancar would not attack, it edged closer, pouring the liquid between the Sexta's partly opened lips, watching as the trickle of murky red disappeared.

It stared blankly at the Sexta before it was struck by a thought. It had succeeded. It had succeeded in getting revenge against Grimmjow. Strengthened by the accomplishment, it let loose its inhibitions and let out a peal of maniacal laughter, one that even Gin would cringe upon hearing. It paid no heed to the moving body beside it. It wouldn't matter anyway. By tomorrow, the Sexta would regret what he had done. He would mourn the day he allowed his violence to rule over him. Another bout of laughter escaped its lips.

Who was it kidding? There would be no tomorrow for Grimmjow Jaegerjacquez.

Szayel Aporro Granz rubbed the weariness from his eyes, exhausted from his sleepless night. He had not been planning on working the previous night, but after the laughter from the Grimmjow's room had woken him, he could no longer find sleep. Having the room next to the Sexta's had its disadvantages. If it had been somebody tamer, he would've asked them to tone their voices down. He did not want to approach the Sexta when he was in one of his moods—the sadist just might make him his next target, and he liked where his body parts were, thank you very much.

At least he was done sorting through his experiments, he thought as he gazed at his nearly spotless room. The floor was no longer hidden beneath masses of wires and tubes, although he could do nothing about the chemical stains decorating it. He sighed. Well, it was the best he could do. That is, until he found a better cleaning agent. Maybe a trip to the human world would provide him with something.

Ruffling his pink hair, he walked over to the massive cabinet he kept around and began to peruse through its content. Several of his inventions clattered on the ground, and he picked them up, grumbling about lack of space. These would usually be in his laboratory, but a few weeks ago, he seemed to have run out of space, however impossible that sounded. The first time he had seen his lab, he was sure it could hold an infinite amount of experiments. But apparently, it was no match for Szayel's productivity.

After he had gone through every box and bottle in the cabinet, he raised an eyebrow. That was strange. The one he was looking for didn't seem to be in there. That couldn't be right. He remembered putting it away after the meeting yesterday, just before he went out to lunch. It shouldn't have been difficult to locate, it was the only bottle with a skull and crossbones on it.

When several more searches proved futile, he gave up, storming out of his room in irritation. The arrancars who saw him coming scampered out of the way, giving the scientist a wide berth. It didn't amuse him now as it had all those times before. It wasn't like he was going to use them as test subjects anyway. He only liked to examine interesting objects and on occasion, his brother. He stopped in his tracks.

Yylfordt. Amber eyes narrowing, he picked up pace and nearly ran to the other Granz' room. There were only a few people in Hueco Mundo who would risk his wrath, and one of them was his older brother. Besides, no one but the two of them would even be interested in science. Why would anyone steal an experimental medicine anyway? He didn't even have the chance to test it yet. Yylfordt might have taken it to make a few adjustments, but Szayel Aporro Granz did not like it when people took his experiments without consent.

It wasn't long before he reached the hall where Yylfordt's room was located, but when he got there, he was nearly suffocated by a great big blond mass.

"Szayel!" came Yylfordt's usual ecstatic greeting, accompanied by, as the other arrancars put it, a 'glomp'. His annoyance immediately bloomed tenfold. He was not in the mood to deal with his brother's idiotic antics.

"Get off of me, aniki!" he growled, attempting to free himself from his sibling's embrace. When he managed to throw him off, he found himself looking at a pouting Yylfordt with a few fake tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. A low growl vibrated in his throat, but it didn't stop Yylfordt from continuing his hurt brother act.

"How could you do this to your most beloved aniki?!" he said, allowing a few of those crocodile tears to run their course and sniffling to punctuate his point. "Don't you love me anymore, little bro? Don't you remember how I fed you and took care of you and played with you when we were younger?"

"And how you forgot about me?" Szayel mumbled, too tired to play along. A wave of guilt washed over him when he saw Yylfordt's closed off expression. He shouldn't have said that. Yylfordt didn't mean any harm. Soon, the tension would mount to a height they wouldn't be able to overcome, and Szayel decided to break the silence before that happened.

"Where did you take it, baka aniki?" he snapped, hoping to revert his brother back to his comical self. It worked, Yylfordt giving him a cheerful grin, albeit accompanied by a puzzled glint in his eyes.

"Where did I take what?" he asked.

Szayel rolled his eyes. "The new project I was working on."

"I don't have it, Szayel," The younger Granz stared at him blankly before his words sunk in. Yylfordt didn't have it. He didn't have it. That only meant…

Before Szayel could explode, he felt a cold hand land on his shoulder. He was about to tell whoever it was to leave him when he noticed that the hand belonged to Ulquiorra. A pair of large emerald eyes bore into his.

"The meeting is about to start, Szayel Aporro," the Cuarta reminded him. His hand slid off Szayel's shoulder and went back to its usual residence in Ulquiorra's pocket.

The Octava decided to let loose his anger some other time. "Of course, Ulquiorra." When the other Espada left, Szayel turned his gaze back to his brother.

"It seems like your carelessness is rubbing off on me," he said, his own version of an apology. Yylfordt just gave him a smile. Without another word, he turned away and followed Ulquiorra to the meeting room.

Szayel slid into his chair just as Aizen and the other two shinigamis entered the room. Their leader took a seat on the throne at the head of the table, while his companions stood on either side of him. Szayel could never understand why Aizen-sama insisted on holding these meetings. They already had the girl he wanted, and no one was looking for her. They didn't discuss much battle strategies either, so why bother?

"Is everyone here?" Aizen looked around. His eyes stopped when they fell on the empty chair across Ulquiorra's. "Where is Grimmjow?" His question was directed at the people gathered. When no one responded, he focused on Szayel.

It wasn't that Szayel was afraid of Aizen-sama, of course not, it was just the way his eyes remained calculating despite the smile that unnerved Szayel. Frankly, he did not appreciate being on the receiving end of that gaze.

"Szayel, could you fetch your brother and ask him to bring Grimmjow here?" There was a slight edge in his tone, and Szayel obeyed without question, reaching the door in seven strides.

"The meeting's done already?" Yylfordt's surprise was evident. Szayel was grateful his brother loved to walk around the corridors near the meeting room, otherwise, he would have had to search the whole of Las Noches to find him.

"Grimmjow is not there," he said instead of replying to the question. "Aizen-sama wants you to get him."

"That's weird," Yylfordt said. "Grimmjow-sama never misses the meetings."

Szayel shrugged. "When you find him, bring him to the meeting room."

Sighing, the blond nodded and proceeded to his master's bedroom.

Yylfordt was sure Grimmjow wouldn't miss the meeting on a whim. There had to be a reason why he wasn't there. He heaved a sigh. And if there was a reason, he didn't know what Aizen-sama wanted him to do to Grimmjow to get him to come to the meeting. After all, Grimmjow was the Sexta Espada, and he wasn't strong enough to put up a fight against a member of Aizen's elite army. He was easily vice-captain rank in shinigami terms, but Grimmjow was as strong as a captain.

There were no lights in the Sexta's room when he got there, and Yylfordt suddenly had an unsettling feeling at the pit of his stomach. Although there weren't any windows in Grimmjow's room, he turned on the ceiling lights in the morning to keep him from feeling groggy.

He was convinced that Grimmjow wasn't in his room when movement from the bed indicated otherwise. He let out the breath he had been holding. So Grimmjow-sama had overslept, nothing to worry about. Getting on his nerves should wake him up straight away. With that in mind, the blond skipped to the four poster bed and peered into the covers.

For a moment, nothing moved. Yylfordt could only gape at the sight before him. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't even possible. What happened to his master?!

"Grimmjow-sama!"

A/N: Haha, I always thought of Yylfordt as an annoying older brother. Somehow, I think it suits him. Anyway, end of first chapter! Reviews and constructive criticisms are welcome. Thanks for reading!