Author's Disclaimer:

Hello to my readers, the few that I have. With this, I begin my second fanfic. The first I wrote as a oneshot describing Szayel's state after his battle with Mayuri, and in it I explored how he might have reacted when meeting Yachiru for the first time. I ended it on a cliffhanger, and I did not intend to write a second chapter, but after quite a few people indicated that they'd like to read a continuation of it, I attempted to write that second chapter. Needless to say, I failed miserably. I highly doubt a second chapter will ever happen, but what came out of that attempt was this fanfic. Smack dab in the middle of brainstorming landed my OTP, and when that happened, it was all over for a sequel.

But the story was still interesting, and as I explored it in my head, I decided it was too good an idea to pass up, so I started writing. I began it with the desire to write humorous, romantic scenes, but quickly realized my writing style would not allow it, and in the end, that was not what I was aiming for. As such, it is not a sweet, lighthearted fic. Do not go into this expecting a happy ending; it only gets darker as it progresses. I am writing this for myself primarily, as I feel I need to write this fic. If you still feel inclined to give it a shot, then please do so. I do not mean to discourage you, only write up a disclaimer so I do not mislead you and waste your time.

That said, its still a lovely story. Its not all dark; there are bright points too, especially at the beginning, and remember, I did start this as a romantic tale. The first four chapters are slow but short; they serve to set up the rest of the story, which will end up being long. If I have not put you off with this introduction, then I hope you will enjoy the story. As always, please read and review. I do love to hear what you think, the good and the bad. If I have put you off it, then may another, more interesting fic brighten your day. Perhaps someday you'll come back or I'll write something in the future that appeals to you more. Regards.

~Tinari

The sunshine was marvelous on his skin, not like the heatless, artificial light of Las Noches. Here on Earth, staring up at the glorious blue of a genuine sky, Szayel wondered how he'd ever thought his fabricated version could live up to the reality. It was like comparing a puddle to the ocean and then calling them the same. How foolish he'd been, how arrogant to believe his sunshine was superior. Lying on his back in the grass with real sunshine filtering through the foliage of the surrounding trees, the former Espada comprehended how truly incomplete he was, and how far from perfection.

It pained him to accept the Shinigami scientist was right, just as it pained him to flee from Hueco Mundo, a refugee. And really… looking back on his own philosophy, he could detect the supercilious flaw in his reasoning. To compare his ultimate ability, his Gabriel resurrection to the rebirth of the mythical phoenix and call it perfection was wrong. If the phoenix were a perfect being, it would not need to be reborn. It would not change. It would not live or die. It would not exist. It was not perfect, and neither was he. That he could think this was proof enough.

Besides… perfection is a human concept and entirely subjective. My perfection is different from anyone else's definition of it.

What was his definition of perfection?

The state where progress is rendered obsolete, where evolution ceases to meddle, where time is inconsequential and all the mortal laws and limits fall away in the face of a singular Truth. Unhindered, uncorrupted, untouchable.

Impossible… for a scientist, impossible. Science lay firmly in the realm of exploration, of chance, of failure and insight and the accumulation of knowledge. The thrill of success, the endorphin rush when he received and epiphany, even the aching disappointment of an unsuccessful experiment; these were what he lived for. Science was too rooted in life to allow perfection, for perfection was the antithesis to life. Its equal and opposite force.

Impossible, improbable… but necessary. What is the meaning of life? To find meaning. What is the meaning of my life? To achieve perfection. Perfection is the meaning of life, the driving ambition of the soul, the constant progress towards something better… and I know I will never reach it. I know tomorrow will be no better than yesterday. I have lost my perfection, and thus, I have lost my meaning in life. What then is there left to live for?

Szayel closed his eyes against the sunlight. It was too bright, too real, and he too insubstantial. Wrong. An aberration. He did not belong in this warm, vibrant world, he who could not be seen by its natural inhabitants.

What is my meaning in life? What do I do now that I have no purpose to exist?

A tendril of wind curled over his face, bringing with it the fragrance of flowers and decaying leaves. The white noise of traffic racing down the street that bounded one side of the urban park hummed distantly in his ears, interspersed with the occasional notes of birdsong in the canopy or the trilling laughter of children playing a few yards away. A blade of grass tickled his cheek, prompting him to break off the offending shoot and twirl it absently between his fingers, and all the while, the sun shone down on his prostrated body and seeped like honey, languorously into his bones.

Szayel opened his eyes.

If I have no purpose, I'll create one. Out of the ashes of my old life I'll invent a new one. I will be reborn.

Yes. That was it. The scientist sat up and looked around, really looked around. The human world was a riot of life, vitality everywhere, possibility around every corner. A veritable treasure-trove of raw potential, and here… here he could choose to be whoever he wanted. He was one among many, free of the onerous obligations that came with Aizen's feudal hierarchy. Free market tycoons lay down the law. The dominant system was Capitalism.

Szayel savored the word, rolling it around his tongue. It tasted spicy, and he smiled as he stood.

"I will shape this world as I see fit and mold it to my aesthetic. The powerful will dance to my tune, and the poor will make my vision their ambition. I will become their Inventor, their God. They will live as though they never lived before my arrival, and I will rule them with Capitalism as their religion and greed their guide," he announced to the sky. It gazed down at him, serene, uncaring.

A revolution. A revolution of technology and the dawn of a new era of power. Why? Because it amused him that on a whim, he could single handedly bring humanity under his sway, leaving Soul Society to look on helplessly. Because he had nothing better to do with his time.

His immolation was complete. Szayel felt the funereal shroud of doubt that had followed him from Hueco Mundo fall away, dissolving in the sunshine. He was a phoenix ascending now on a new thermal draft, with the precepts of Capitalism beneath his wings.

The former Espada grinned. Things were once again interesting.