Anamist looked out across the Shattered Desserts, most of it was still in tact; though the elevation was no longer perfect- sinkholes dotted the white sands and a couple trees dotted the sand where they sprouted up from beneath the sand. Anamist didn't particularly like the sands; especially now that their perfect beauty had been stained during the apocalypse.

He was here for a reason however; his leader had called him out here for a special reason- he had yet to show up,, so Anamist thought he would prepare an area for their meeting. With a snap of his fingers, a large red tent appeared with two relaxing chairs beneath it; sitting between them was a red table with refreshments and wine. Two fancy plates sat atop table maps with elaborately folded red napkins(in the shapes of their Espada numbers, 1 &3) true silverware sat atop the napkins.

Anamist began to pour the wine as he sensed Cross's presence drawing near- despite Anamist's power and reputation: he really did love being a butler... so much that it almost seemed in his genetic trait. Serving was but one small(yet enjoyable) part of being a butler. It was his duty to serve, protect & manipulate. He would not manipulate Cross, mind you- but almost all others with dew exceptions were victims to his manipulation, in one form or another; though most did not realize it. Being a butler was the perfect ploy- no one ever expected such devious mechanisms to originate from him. They always looked to his master or the one he served and blamed then- allowing Anamist to carry out the careful plans almost perfectly.

As he sensed Cross's presence within a short distance in visible sight, Anamist bowed extravagantly; a red towel folded across his right arm near his chest- just like a butler. His hands both of which were gloves in silk white, one touching his chest and the other held out invitingly.

Welcome Primera, I have prepared refreshments for our talk.

Leaning against a spire, Cross looked at his right arm at the black markings that slowly reached another inch up his arm. Blinking a few times, he lowered it while he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s getting closer than I thought. I need to work a little faster.. But that takes effort.” He slouched forward once he thought about all the work he had to do. He knew what was coming, and he wasn’t going to ignore that fact. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he looked up towards the sky and thought back to the day that he had helped out Darious, and Dhaos took him in. He can’t really remember what happened during the time Dhaos had with him, but it was something that he knew caused that stuff on his arm. He feels like it means something, and for Dhaos to just disappear like that is another reason why he came back to the espada. He needed to find someone to take his place, not as Primera, but as a potential leader until the next Primera is found. Shaking his head at the thought, he felt Anamist in the nearby area and was ready to talk to him about gaining new found power. Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned forward and disappeared with a single sonido, appearing multiple times pushing off the sand when he needed to rush forward towards anamist’s postion.

Seeing the red tent, Cross fixed the giant blade on his back while slowly pulling it out and walking towards the tent. He was by no means going to use it, he just couldn’t sit down with it, and he was honestly getting annoyed from it hitting his ankles every time he ran or walk. Holding the massive blade over his shoulder, he approached animist when he saw him bowing. “Ana-Kun, What did I say about bowing?” He chuckles, lifting him up with his arm. “Don’t bow in front of me. It makes me uncomfortable, and it really gives me the attention I don’t care for. So, no more bowing, ok? Ok. “Cross walked inside the tent and looked at the decorations. He was impressed honestly while he pulled out Anamists chair. “Here, Sit.” He said with a small smile and waited until Anamist sat downt o push his chair in. Walking around the table, Cross sat in his char and pulled it in towards the table, putting the napkin in his lap while he looked over towards Anamist. “Ana-kun.” He said promptly with his raspy voice. “You’re going to reach a new power you didn’t think you were able to.” Cross lowered on hand underneath the table out of Ana’s sight, slowly pushing reiatsu into the tip of his finger. “You’re going to learn to release another time. Segunda Etapa.” Cross cocked his head while he spoke for a bit, smiling at the last two words. “Hopefully, you’re body will be able to take it, or you’ll lose it, and I’ll have to kill you. I haven’t killed anyone in a while, so it wouldn’t be a clean death.”

Anamist disliked not bowing to his leader, but he had requested him not to- a dilemma, to his servitude nature and his gentleman mannerisms alike. He had little time to protest however as Cross hurriedly pushed him to a chain and sat across the table from his- it was supposed to be Anamist's duty to sit his guest in his chair before he himself sat, but Cross had once again withdrawn formalities. He grinned to himself as he thought of his humble leader, so eager to not be praised.

If it is you that requests it, I will not bow to you; though please allow me to continue serving as the butler.

As he snapped his fingers, the knife appeared and began to cut some cake- a large white cake with red icing decorations. A piece of cake was put on each plate and the bottle of wine filled their two gasses with sparking crimson wine. As was customary, Anamist waited for his guest to take the first bite, but he did not however before continuing to speak. After his words, he had began to charge spiritual energy in the tip of his finger under the table- one could not do something so subtle with spiritual energy without the Red Butler noticing.

I'm uncertain what this Segunda Etapa is, but I should think it is similar to your Release? if such, it is truly an honor to learn from you, Primera.

Anamist felt that the spiritual charge was not meant to be harmless, but Anamist accepted his leader's decision & actions stoically. He knew that to refuse such a proposition would disgrace his leader's pride and his own as well. Anamist did not fear death- death was but a single obstacle between life and the next life. Anamist lifted his glass of wine up and waited for Cross to do the same.

A toast then; to life and Death- to friendship and power.

Cross tilted his head at Anamist while he thought for a few moments; “ He better be ready for what I am going to do.. I’d hate to have his blood on my hands if he is too weak to overcome his self. Forgive me for what I am about to do, Ana Kun..” Cross smiled widely at Anamist when he raised his glass. Cross looked forward, gazing over the table set and grabbed the brim of his glass, holding it up towards Anamist and nodding his head. “to power.” He commented before taking a small sip of Wine. Cross had to do what he planned at this moment. He knew Anamist had felt that power surge slightly. The little reiatsu that was forming at his finger tip now covered his full hand. It had the power of a charged cero, large enough to cause a limb to be lost at point blank. Eyeing Anamist’s Chest, Cross rolled his shoulders before sonido’ing infront of Anamist, crushing the table by going through it. Holding his hand outwards, Cross pressed his hand into Anamist’s chest, slowly sinking into his skin before a large blast shot out through Ana’s chest. Cross stepped forward out of the large dust cloud while looking back behind Anamist.

“You start now. Don’t disappoint me, Ana-kun.”

To power...

Anamist had leaned his head back as he drank the whole glass of wine in one gulp; it was very possible that this could be his last. Seeing that his Aspect of Death was Gluttony, nothing pleased him more than knowing he had fulfilled his appetite's hunger with his wine before he would die.

He didn't even bother to open his eyes with his head still tilted back after swallowing the crimson liquid; he felt Cross's presence move closer suddenly and the intent to put his life in jeopardy... he let out a slight expulsion of breathe at the impact of Cross's palm into his chest. immediately his body was on fire as the cero erupted from point-blank and seared completely through his chest.

Even with his eyes till closed, he could feel the world growing darker; almost as his all his prime energy was leaving his body, but that was hardly the case. Half of him accepted death, but the other half wished to live on- to prove his worth to his leader... to protect those he loved, especially his human daughter Rui. As the last wisps of his physical mind faded, his fists clenched tightly into curled iron grips of defiance.

The angle of the cero and the closeness to the ground, caused the cero to exploded downward and created a small sinkhole where Anamist had been sitting comfortably in the chair. The sand cleared from the impact to reveal the seemingly lifeless form of the Red Butler facedown in the sand. Moments passed and Cross would likely turn his back to the grim scene before any action began to take form.

The Blood Butler

Anamist's blood began to seep out and soak into the white sands, dying them crimson; the hole in his chest was considerable and a large portion of his blood had spilled out in seconds; however the blood kept flowing. The unnatural and disturbing site would surely make Cross smile grimly; this was likely similar to what he was hoping for. Anamist's body began to float atop the red liquid as it constantly filled the sinkhole higher and higher until the red liquid reached the brim of the hole and began to overflow.

Anamist's face-down body began to sink slowly into the crimson darkness; safe from site or presence. In seconds, the blood began to bubble violently and rapidly increasing in temperature. Vile smells radiated from the bubbles, the white sand that was dyed crimson began to blacken, harden and then corrode away- constantly expanding the sinkhole, yet still over-filling it with the seemingly endless fountain of blood. The center of the blood pool began to slowly rise up into a thick fountain of blood, spraying the vile blood everywhere and exuding dangerous fumes.

Out from the center fountain of blood, arose a peculiar site. A hand covered in blood emerged from the liquid, sending a massive wave of pure spiritual energy outward, ripping the ground away from near the blood pool. Slowly a humanoid body emerged from the fountain of blood, the spiritual energy constantly increasing in tempo until the whole body had exited the vile blood. It was Anamist's body, the hole in his chest now rapidly healing itself; his hair was much longer- probably down to the bend in his back. tattoos streamed down his face and his eyes glowed with an unnatural red hugh, much sharper than they were normally.

The eyes searched hungrily; a new hunger that the body had never experienced before had taken over his hollow nature and given birth to its own physical will. No consciousness of it's own, just sheer hunger... The body was nearly all red for the first few moments and naked. No longer did his expensive suit adorn his body, instead it was covered in a thick lair of blood that slowly fell away. The hole in the center of his chest, where his previous wound had been; was not fully regeneration... however a mar remained- if you could call it a mar, but some might think it the epitome of his very essence.

A long row of large jagged teeth protruded from his chest and spanned horizontally across, almost as if in a menacing smile. The body let out a roar of sheer rage, sadness... and most importantly, hunger. The mouth in his chest roared along with his regular mouth. The blood now fully fell away, revealing a new suit to cover his naked body; complete black except the crimson shirt, all composed of blood.. to fit at the body's will. The hands were demonic with claws, large wings and a tail suddenly were expelled from behind him and completed his deathly visage.

Suddenly the body stopped its long roar and smelled the air and suddenly turned its attention in Cross's direction, this arrancar would prove a fitting snack for the birth of the Blood Butler- for he was hungry.. so very hungry...

The Mind..

Anamist floated, completely at peace with himself; very comfortable and not a care in the world... though something still seemed wrong about the whole thing.. hadn't he been dying in his last thoughts? Almost as if his thoughts had betrayed the surrounding scene, he became aware that he was floating in a dark world, where the only physical substance was the crimson blood that he floated in. He turned his head to the sides and saw nothing but darkness; then the world began to come to light- a dull red eerie light... a light that originated from beneath him, coming from the depths of the ocean of blood.

Anamist willed himself to rise from the blood, aware that lying there too long might lull him to an eternal sleep, a peaceful bliss where he cared for nothing else. As soon as his feet left the bloody surface, it had hardened into what seemed to be ground; though still very much blood, that rippled with his every movements, sending crimson light ripples throughout the bleak world.

I welcome myself to the darkness of my self... it is a grand place, filled with nothing... the hunger has eaten everything... eaten everything..

Anamist turned and looked in every possible direction to see where the voice resounded from- however he found no one. Oddly enough it was his own voice that spoke those words to him; he checked himself to be sure that he was himself- sure enough, he was himself still; but with no grievous wound inflicted by Cross.

This is your mind, humble butler; your hunger has devoured all thoughts and emotions, only your very core remains; all of those delicious souls compressed together that define yourself as who you are- a monster.

Anamist looked around again in vain, his calm appearance had been destroyed once is own voice had began to talk to him, explaining things.

Show yourself! I wish not to converse with someone with ill-manners, that they cannot even stand face to face with me...

There was a pause of silence that seemed an eternity to Anamist, before anything happened. surely he felt it though, within his very soul when the surface of the ocean of blood began to cause more than ripples from slight movement.. Instead the fountain of blood had risen up violently, this fountain much larger due to the amount of blood beneath it. Soon the same being had appeared from the fountain; though this being seemed more intelligent and graceful. He bowed low in one of Anamist's extravagant bows, a single arm close to his chest and the other lowered somewhat away from his body as if introducing himself with a single hand motion.

Forgive my impoliteness; this hunger... has caused irrational actions and thoughts... I am the Blood butler; I am you, but so much more than you are currently... so much more hungry..

As the last word "hungry" escaped his mouth; for escaped was the right word- because even his words seemed to be swallowed u by the starving world. Anamist could feel the bloodlust and hostility in the version of him, the site itself was something truly frightening... Anamist thought he had conquered his hunger- but now he understood... he had suppressed it, and the suppression had caused the hunger to eat away at his very character and mind, creating this alter-ego and unhinging the boundaries within his mind.. How he knew this, he wasn't so sure, but something within him told him that even though this other him" was not him, it was still him; and they were connected somehow...

All that you need to know, is that here and now, you will die; devouring yourself and your precious leader along with you. But do not worry, you will not disappear until every last morsel of this Cross has been consumed by your body.

Anamist clenched his fist, he had heard enough from this blasphemous monster; it was time for action, not just words... though he suspected that words also played a part in this battle.

talking is one thing, disgrace me as ou like; simply because you know me better than myself- but do not presume to know my leader or speak of him in such unruly ways. I will have to teach your proper manners!

Anamist drew Nemuri from its sheathe and released into his Form2; his skin darkened and blood flowed violently through his veins; bulging just beneath the surface of his skin. His hard grew longer and became blade-like, yet still his hands beneath. A metal face-mask covered his face and a single red dot marked his vision; still fully capable of perfect vision as well as other spectrums unseen to the unnatural eye. Anamist charged at the powerful alter-ego with both blades locked into the form like a pair of scissors.

As if the alter-ego enjoyed the provocations- it responded to him drawing his weapon by drawing both swords. Nemuri & Semasu: a feat Anamist had never been able to do himself, to hold bot swords at the same time. the alter-ego threw him off-guard however when he proceeded to drop both swords into the ocean of blood- blades first. A lot like Byakuya Kuchiki would do when using Senbonzakua.

A torrent of blood rose up directly in front of the alter-ego an he grabbed ahold of it, solidly forming a crimson & black scythe in his hands that was just as tall. He blocked both crossed blades with the shaft of the scythe, the blade of the sythe snaking around dangerously towards Anamist's exposed ribs. Anamist kicked at he flat of the blade and summersaulted up and over the alter-ego's head and sliced again with hi blades.