Espada's Pendulum

The cool ominous air blew in Las Noches. The yellow moon was high in the sky and immersed the proximity in dim light. Gruesome howls screeched in the distance, as a slender visage strolled onward sluggishly. In the light, a hulking figure rolled for a brief second before slamming against a sandy dune. Streaks of gray sand turned crimson as a grand beast behind the slender visage faded into nothing, letting out a bone-chilling shriek as it died.

"Pitiful bastard" a chilling voice echoed.

Entering the light, the figure revealed itself --a short fellow wrapped in bandages from head to toe. A gale of wind brushed pass the figure as his lengthy limbs pushed him forward, he sprung up into the sky. His face wreathed in a broad grim smile as he overlooked the vicinity; hordes of bloody masses lay spread across the field. Many of them still struggling around, attempting to devour one another as this was the cycle of life for Hollow, eat or be eaten. Yet, the warrior ascended in the sky found amusement in the Hollow below that he had tormented, a few seconds prior.

Twisting his body around, his head shot upward in anticipation. Shutters went through his body and his fingertips began to twitch, "Damn cowards. None of you are worth my time" Before his creepy, hysterical laughter could begin, he raised his palm.

He suddenly ran his open palm down the space to his right. Suddenly, a gaping hole tore open. The whirling circle of black energy released a small hum as it widened. Swirling his head, he looked through casually. "Might as well go piss of some Shinigami" he thought, putting his feet forward he entered the Garganta without hesitation. Before he vanished in the void, a flashing light of red consumed his eyes. Bright and empowering, he turned to embrace the light head on.

Chuckles from far were heard as the explosion commenced back near the Garganta. "I am the Décima Espada" a voice spoke, perfectly equating that of the previous, chilling tone. Beside a tailed behemoth that crawled on the ground, its mouth agape its eyes flickered as it was exterminated. "I'll...you bast-"

The voice of the giant beast trailed away as it died, just like its brethren. Standing, with his arm covered in blood the Tenth Espada widened his eyes in pleasure. Meanwhile, overhead the Garganta slowly closed. The menacing Espada decided to take its time, ceasing the existence of all these weakly abominations. "You want to go that bad. I'll be elated to oblige." Finishing, he jotted toward another crawling Hollow directly to the left.

---

From atop the dunes of Las Noches, high above the white sands of the endless desert, a power long since forgotten began to stir. Maelstrom winds whirled about, as storm clouds began to form over the region, lightning arcing through air releasing a chorus of thunderous howls. Then, the sky gave a terrifying screech, a sound so painful and agonizing it rippled across the sands of Hueco Mundo alerting all Hollows to what could only be the birth...or the return of an ancient evil.

A jagged scar tore itself through the sky stretching across one horizon to the next, and from within its tears a power so immense and unholy poured outward, as a blackness deeper than the void itself creeped downward, forming into a monstrous structure. Slowly the swirling energies coalesced into a a gate, and joined at its sides were twin skeletal guardians, eyes lit with crimson like blood.

Slowly, the gated opened and from within their depths, a power not unlike the void itself, so vast and empty it was as though a black hole had opened up directly in the sky. The sheer force of its power descended upon Hueco Mundo with all of the palpable fanfare of a meteor, crashing into the ground, and crushing the pitiable hollows foolish enough to not heed their primal instinct to flee. Then it rained.

Black and green rain.

It poured below from the grotesque gate, drenching the sands of Hueco Mundo, and from within this storm of despair strode a figure, illuminated only by the cascades of power clashing around it. Lighting flashed, and in that split second, Hueco Mundo caught a glimpse of the entity that had nearly ripped it apart; an Arrancar, long thought dead, slain in an epic battle years ago. Now, he has returned, more powerful than ever. To the hollows that remained, and those who escaped the destructive forces that wrought the arrival of this force of death and despair---fled, leaving only those foolish enough to stand before it..

Beneath the crown of his hollow mask, emerald eyes, cold and calculating scanned at the smattering of Hollows left in the wake of its resurgence. A dozen dotted the landscape, hollows, adjuchas and a handful of Arrancar amongst them. But not one of them had power above that of an average Shinigami Lieutenant.

Trash.

One in particular though, draped in blood-stained wrappings bore into his own. He stood atop another hollow. Recently killed. Reiatsu; sufficiently high and dense, a new Espada perhaps? Stance; tense, cautious but fluid. Swords in hand and on back; swordsman. Favors speed and agility. Eyes, watching, calculating, trying to determine extent of danger, he's uncertain.

The condition of Hueco Mundo was unchanged, he could sense the familiar presence of another Espada; Tier Harrbiel, but no others. Did Aizen's war end in failure? Possibly.

No matter.

Returning his thoughts to the hollow of interest, he briefly considered wiping him and the rest out, but refrained from doing so; he needed information first. His eyes flickered to the hollow in question.

"Arrancar, what was the result of the war against the Shinigami?"

''"Impossible!" ''

The bandaged Espada's mind rattled. His ears rang from the epic entrance moments ago and his body became too rigid too move at the presence of the Arrancar. His mind raced as he thought of only one being with spiritual pressure so demonically dense and utterly unapprehensive, that only one being could boast this: Ulquiorra Cifer. A single bead of sweat rolled down his face, yet almost immediately it was evaporated. Festered rage began to unveil.

He felt this presence only once before --he nearly choked to death. Meanwhile, the arrancar underneath the Décima Espada dissipated, amazingly fast. Clearly, the Espada had done damage enough to kill, but certainly hadn't dealth the finishing blow. It had been the glance. Those emerald green eyes that instilled despair had sent the arrancar speeding toward his demise. With the explosion of the arrancar the Décima Espada found discomfort greeting him as he landed sternly on his butt. Luckily, dismembered body parts remained from other, slowly vanishing body parts originating from other Hollow, slaughtered by his hand.

Feelings of bewilderment were entirely devoid. Absent in this creature. This wasn't a dream, in fact it was a living nightmare. This Espada upturned Hell itself in order to venture back to reality; its journey long and daunting. Yet, against all odds, he was born anew. The Décima would send him back to the depths.

Before the mind of the Décima could flicker back to the past, he stood up. No interest in his posture, he casually shrugged. Whether the flashy display of spiritual dominance was intentional or not, it had pissed him off. Coupled with his already strong disposition is the only thing that made the Espada respond in such a manner.

A misplaced portrait in a gallary, the age-old cuatro Espada recieved a grave yet faintly infuriated grimace. He stood up boldly, and without turning to address the past infamous Espada, he spoke: "you grizzled excuse for an Espada, don't you dare approach me. If you hadn't died at the hands of a human then I would've slit your throat myself, arrancar." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts.., but more so to let his demeaning insult sink in "come to think, you died not so far from here...correct?" He chimed; his words laced in mocking undertone and his voice was loud and not a syllable missed.

His eyes swiped away from northbound to his hand, which promptly drew the katana at his backside. His feet traced along the blood-streaked sand. His stomach churned as he felt a sense of possible resurgence of dominance twirl about in his mind --as with the title of "Espada Killer" Las Noches as a whole would quiver in fear, and if not fear then it would be blind loyalty. With a blade drawn, the silver edge of the blade appeared to be crafted by all of heavens inhabitants with the utmost of delicacy. That blade alone had lacerated foes in the past, in the Tenths mind this would occur no differently.

Commencing his attack with the greatest amount of precaution, while readily eying the Espada in the close proximity. He scoffed, glancing from the corner of his left eye toward the scores of Hollow, creepily lurking in the sand; all of them unworthy of life yet desiring to be acknowledged, the meaningless adjuchas and low-level arrancar watched on hastily.

Blazing passion of great magnitude, he ascended a few feet in the sky. Immediately, a crawling grand-scale adjuchas was tossed into the sky effortlessly. Following it, concealed from view for a moment, the Tenth Espada charged forward. Eviscerating the beast in two as he did, he charged onward to slice at Ulquiorra. "Don't remember me, do ya? Call me God, and to answer..yes, I murdered Aizen Sōsuke."

The blade slanted in a vertical angle as he moved onward, he switched hands as he entered the emerald eyes field of view. A relatively simple tactic he began with, unfortunately, the unimaginable power of the cuatro espada might overcome the low deficit in swordsmanship skill. Much better would be needed to slay this particular creature. Whether he had it in his arsenal remained to be seen. He plotted the second grotesque, and silent demise of the Espada warrior.

The former Cuatra Espada made no attempt to defend himself from the Decima's attack, or perhaps in his perspective, there was simply no reason to do so. To waste the energy in doing so would be pointless. Even as the slick blade slithered through the air, intent on finding its reward through flesh and blood, Ulquiorra remained impassive. When soul steel met clashed against the former Espada, all it was greeted with was the hardened carapace that was Ulquiorra's near impenetrable Hierro. His eyes still fixated ahead, he spoke, voice deep and resounding, different than before; more powerful, commanding, no...more like demanding.

“So the war was a failure.” It was more a statement rather than a question. “What of the new Espada? Is it accurate to state that Tier Harribel is your master? What are your goals?” He asked, ignoring the outburst and accusations of the Decima Espada. Ulquiorra was rather calm in the situation, despite the fact that he had been attacked, evidently, he had yet to consider the Arrancar a threat that needed to be dealt with.

The Tenth couldn't help himself, he nearly keeled over in joy; as only one as damn powerful as the cuatro could keep him entertained, yet inwardly, he was well aware that he would most likely be trumped if he didn't answer the question. Ulquiorra's words hung in the air like a pungent odor. His eyes widened as he looked upward, his pupils swaying back and forth as he watched the Espada before him remain so...empty. "An empty husk indeed" he figured, proceeding to curve his upper lip until he bit it, until small droplets of blood leaked out.

"Your chatty with your questions, arrancar." He well knew that his insults wouldn't harm him, not any more then his blade would, which cringed as he reeled back. Skidding across the sand, he stood up after coming to a deftly halt, about five feet away from the despair ridden Espada. "That bitch isn't my master. And my goals are not hers. I'm not a stooge; I do as I please" he barked, while standing his left foot curved back slightly, leaving his toes tapping against the sand floor.

The clearly more enraged espada reeked of blood and rage; the events that transpired just before was enough for him to know that his, and his opponents level of power were worlds apart...but, for some eerie reason, the Décima could only curve his upper lip until a smirk suffused on his bandaged face. The area was desolate except for the two, which allowed a shimmer of pleasure to amass before the Espada's eyes. His voice struck like daggers being thrown, and for a moment, all Las Noches succumbed to drifting silence.

"You'll join Aizen in eternal slumber. And your death will be a fleeting one,--" He paused, and his body tensed with fury; the years of abuse in his past by stronger arrancar had flooded over him. Perhaps the most foolish endeavor he has commenced thus far --battling the cuatrao Espada, but surely, Ulquiorra would react even if he hadn't been invoked, someone such as he wouldn't let a "low-life" strike them. Yet, in his mind, he knew that Ulquiorra wasn't the one to enter battle, but the one to provoke it. Nor was he one that would battle without a good reason, typically only engaging when specifically informed to do so.'' "Thats better. Killing and eating this bastard'll give me the power I need. The power I demand!" He thought, rightfully so. ''

From the sand below, two hands creeped up and firmly grapsed Ulquiorra's ankles, however as soon as contact was made, the palms began to shred apart! "He wasn't even putting forth any effort!" The clone thought, somehow managing to keep its grasp. While that occurred, more clones arose from the sand below the cuatro, quickly enclosing the warrior in a wall of enemies. All of them lunged forth without so much as an indication, but most likely for the victim, he could see the attack long before it had actually been executed. This was Nèi-- an entity who demanded power through any means, desired his goals more so then any other; means that include charging toward arguably the strongest Espada in history.

As the hands and bodies converged on him, Ulquiorra remained impassive at best, his eyes unmoving but every watchful of the Decima Espada. His form was gradually consumed whole by the multitude of bodies, but still he remained stoic, a single eye peering lifelessly at Nei, before the Cuatra Espada's features were obscured by the encroaching bodies of Nei.

Useless.

Was his singular thought, and with the barest of effort, released a massive wave of reiatsu, repulsing the Espada away as though hit by a deafening shockwave. They bodies were violently torn off, some had limbs ripped apart, others not as fortunate. The sheer magnitude of his power was overwhelming far beyond what he had been capable of prior to his death.

And this was merely an iota of his power, requiring no more effort than to lift a finger to crush an insignificant insect. Throughout the rain of blood, flesh and icor, a shimmering field surrounded him, offering protection from the debris of Nei's clones. Those that attempted to get too close were hedged out, and those unable to move found themselves dissolving into nothingness.

A deathly silence filled the break between the slaughter, as the two Espada stared the other down. One was defiant, desperate for power, unwilling to let fate dictate and allow the travesty of his current position to continue, and the other resurrected as the embodiment of death itself, an agent of destruction, a reaper of all things dead and living; the end.

Finally, Ulquiorra closed his eyes as though in quiet thought, and spoke, his voice carried across the dunes of Hueco Mundo clearly to Nei, promising only oblivion.

"You stand before a foe whose power you cannot even begin to comprehend, yet you still strive for victory when it does not exist?" Piercing eyes snap open, but they did not see Nei, not as an Arrancar, nor as an Espada, merely an annoyance to be brushed off. "Hmph. Very well, I will etch upon you the despair of your pitiable existence and grind you into dust."

It was instantaneous.

His reiatsu flooded outward, disintegrating anything and everything within its reach, green and black tendrils of energy rocked forward with immense concussive force that those not instantly vaporized by the display of power were crushed by the sheer weight and pressure of his power. Like a cannon, Ulquiorra focused the brunt of his released reiatsu forward intending on smashing Nei like an enormous sledgehammer.

Charred remains, partially disintegrated limbs lay about the sand floor in droves. Like an anvil being dropped, Ulquiorra's reiatsu shook the very foundation of the proximity, moreso, it made the Tenth break tremble. Just as the ground and heaven quivered at that instant, as did Nèi. Rocks split in two and the sandy dunes razed about in unkempt, windy fury. The snarl that was plastered on his face immediately was shattered as he gazed weakly upon the death of every single clone he erected.

His once dominating, prideful posture came tumbling down as the words exiting the cuatros' mouth lingered, hung in the air. Then, before a moments notice a bolt of lightning, nay, the entire sky felt as though it plummeted down upon him. The distinct aura of despair filled him. The storm of reiatsu raged onward, calm yet empowering it was. Before him, the existences of his clones vanished, leaving no trace. And still, it was merciless. The abomination nearly keeled over right their. With thoughts of somehow surviving this single wave, a barrier the size of Nèi funneled from the sand and barred the incoming reiatsu...for a few seconds.

Bolting rightward Nèi mumbled something incoherent although he was confident that Ulquiorra could analyze what he said by the shivering of his palms and sweat rolled down his face. His lips split apart to unveil words, low in tone and raspy, "fuck. Crazy son-of-a-bitch. That wasn't even a attack. Fuck! Shoulda' ended dis shit already!" He gulped. His spiritual pressure, even though worlds apart from his foe was the only thing keeping the atmosphere somewhat liveable. Exasperation came over him as he watched how.., how fucking calm he was!

Regaining focus, Nèi's speed bolstered, ending his brief venture with a stand, a stoic stance atop a giant grey pillar. The Espada noticed the crumbling state and disarray the towers were left in. Large constructs erected eons ago; some believe by an epic battle, others believe God forged them. Neither mattered at the time though. No matter what brought these constructs here, this calm, green-eyed little prick was making this whole portion of Nèi's world split! For a second, he gazed at the temple of despair that examined him with such annoyance that it enraged him.

Nèi hoped that Ulquiorra wouldn't see through his facade: with an unsightly, smug grin, that would either confuse Ulquiorra, or he could see right through this terrible facade. "My blade won't hurt him. I gotta get in close and amplify my attacks. Maybe, if I come close enough then I can land attacks in succession. That should hurt'em." Angrily, he stomped down and sonido'd forth; an erratic static sound could be heard clearly.

Traversing the small distance between him and his foe, his stomach began to stir; "KING OF HUECO MUNDO! A fortress dedicated to me. Fucks like this will get chopped' into pieces." As he moved, the tower behind him came crumbling down, a typical display of power that Nèi does to state his power. Like a savage, he fired a bala from his blade followed by a long, deep snarl. "His hierro will protect him. I gotta break that shit down." In a quick flicker, he was accelerating around the cuatro, continuing to do this for a brief moment with small, oddly shaped objects disturbing the trembling ground. "Hopefully those will slow him down abit" all the while, his yellow pupils were fixated upon the motionless, emerald eyes that viewed him as an annoyance.

Ceasing without notice, he back-stepped and prepared to fire his signature cero, Aka Shinka. Reishi gathered at his palms as he clasped them together; a cylinder formed at his palms with a high-pace rotating orb moving within the content. Suddenly, the distraction purposed bala entered cuatros' vicinity, purposefully slowed during its execution by Nèi. Meanwhile, a beam of energy came precisely at his blind-spot.

This was no longer a game for amusement. This was now a battle of pride.

Ulquiorra frowned at the singular Bala that sped towards him. He had faced numerous entities that refused to bow before a superior power, and whom typically employed high risk gambits in an attempt to catch him off guard.

Fools.

His power was so far above their own, that guarding was....unnecessary. Still, it was rare for his calculations to be wrong, for this Decima Espada to simply fire a single Bala, as though it would distract him was....

He was brought out of his thoughts, at the spike of reiatsu to his rear. His Pesquisa registered the phenomena and the ensuing attack with practiced ease and accuracy; an advanced Cero, manifested in a multi-barrier design with the interior's velocity rapidly increasing. On impact it would detonate with extreme force and power. Estimated destructive potential; equivalent to a Gran Rey Cero, more powerful than even the Sexta's.

Interesting.

With a glance he spared the incoming beam of energy with a piercing look, his mind already made up.

---



The Aka Shinka cut through the air with a hiss, as the ground parted from the sheer force of its velocity. As the rapidly approaching beam struck its target, the last thing Nei saw was a single emerald eye peering at him, with the slightest light of interest before the attack detonated.

The explosion erupted with the fury of a volcano, crimson fire and energy blasting outward, incinerating anything they touched, raining hellfire upon the white sands. In its wake was a pillar of energy that stretched into the night sky of Hueco Mundo, shedding an ominous crimson light upon the denizens below.

Slowly the light died, leaving naught but death and destruction, a symphony of agonizing cries and anguish to those unfortunate to survive. The bellowing winds ceased their movement, and the churning sea of molten magma rained down scorching the lands, a smog of debris obscuring his vision.

"My, my," A voice pierced through the silence. The debris was swept away with a passive gesture, as Ulquiorra dusted off his shoulder. His outfit was singed at its edges giving him a wild look. Beyond a few patches of dirt and grime, the only indication of injury upon his person was his blackened palm.

"You forced me to actually defend myself against that level of attack." He said glaring at the Decima. "Perhaps you are more than just trash." He paused. "What is your name Espada?"

Finally, he was recognized. Amassing this technique was no ordinary feat if it had forced even the supreme cuatro into a defensive position. However, he didn't just want to be noticed, he wanted to be the one barking orders. "Xīnzàng...Nèi Xīnzàng. That is my name, Ulquiorra Cifer. Through the smog, lined in crimson light that shrouded amidst Ulquiorras' person, the Tenth peered with a harsh gaze toward the glaring foe. His attack left the ground charred and the innate explosion wreaked havoc, tearing through the landscape and seemingly manage to harm his hand.

He winced.'' "It would appear that my second feint in my cero was enough to harm him. Although it wasn't my initial tactic it was helpful in somewhat deducing his level of power...or effort. Either way, he appears to have recognized me as a threat now. I must be on guard now." ''The edges of his being twitched and his brow raised as he found himself altering his tactic against his opponent. His glare briefly catching that of the ravaged sandy floor. This was a far cry from what to come.

Discarding the band adorn across his skull, he immediately grabbed hold to the katana on his backside. ''"My cero didn't push him back. He stayed in the same spot. Fuck." ''The abomination let out a muttered grumble before grasping his blade, and twisting it to appear before him. The bellowing wind that whirled about from the Aka Shinka withdrew, with it, tension rose. Brief silence entered as the duo stared at each other. Both of them imposing attributes that the other lacked, which only made their speculation, nay, curiousity for the other ascend.

Suddenly, his reiatsu sprung to life. His eyes widened and his grasp became harsh. His yellow, motionless pupils flared. The ground beneath him began to pulsate violently and dust quickly rolled around at his ankles. The whole ground began to collapse near him, power emanting outward in a large sum. The undulation like movement of his blade was obscured by the growing fog. "Ulquiorra Cifer. This might end very grimly for you." Those words hung about; the chilling tone and consistent low tune of his words echoing throughout the sandy dunes. Yet, anyone with half-a-brain could tell doubt lingered within his mind and resonated with his words.

Hastily, from his arm emerged two Espada in equate size, shape and power as the original. Before Ulquiorra could impose his own presence that would eclipse that of the Decima, a clone of Nèi maneuvered through the hellish flames that were about to clash with the Espada. Thrusting his newly drawn blade toward Ulquiorra. While that ensued he extended his left hand, hoping to grab onto Ulquiorra to retain him in position. Meanwhile, another clone moved to the leftside of the cuatro --keeping his distance, he is intent on outflanking him; the Nèi clone rushed cupping his hands together orientating another Aka Shinka.

A sphere of increasingly fast-paced energy of crimson coloration spun about in his palms. Encasing it, the cylinder construct formed quickly and fired off toward the enemy. The beam was considerable weaker then the first, yet still retaining that same velocity and impending eruption intent. As his formulated feint transpired, Nèi shot forth a outward pulse of spiritual power. An outward repelling force used to intensify the gravity upon the Espada, and using that sheer gravity to push him backwards, in addition to creating an opening for his clones' attack. Extending his index finger, a wave of spiritual force shot off in a linear direction creating a pathway about in the sand as it flew off, aimed at the target of despair.

"All just a feint. A goading tool. This will benefit me in the long run." A booming wake of static sound became evident like a shatter glass it was purposefully loud enough for all to here. In a moment, Nèi was striding around the area at a breakneck pace, hopefully this would assure that he would be briefly unable to land a decisive blow. "Constrict, El Corazón " a single voice utter, monotonically.

''Using his clones as a distraction to give himself time to prepare for another assault? He's still only at the human-level.'' The former Espada thought. In death, he had battled all manner of demons and self-proclaimed gods, this fight, if one could call it that, was almost....disappointing.

With resignation, Ulquiorra casually parried the simple sword thrust with just a tap of his finger, yet the force he generated was like a shockwave, causing it to swerve violently to the side. In the same instant, he shifted his arm, to grab the extended hand of the clone, and with deft flick of his wrist and a swift pivot hurled the clone into the path of the incoming Aka Shinka. Yet trailing in its wake was a massive wave of pure destructive energy, that enveloped the clone, disintegrating it on contact while tearing apart the integrity of the dimensional fabric seperating Hueco Mundo from the Dangai.

His Cero impacted with tremendous force against the Aka Shinka, detonating the attack prematurely in a fiery explosion consuming the other clone. Boiling hot winds that seared the sands, and ash fluttered in the aftermath of the attack, all the while the avatar of despair remained immovable, unflinching in his gait.

Pesquisa alerted him to the wave of spiritual force rocketing towards him from what the Decima believed to be a blindspot, but...he paid it no heed. For a being such as he to succumb to the pressure of the Decima's spiritual power, was simply ridiculous. Not that it was of any concern to begin with. The Decima's distraction had borne no fruit of its labor, save the waste of his own energy. Moments later he felt the crushing force of his opponents reiatsu crash into him like a tidal wave.

But all it had accomplished was to ruffle his clothing, he had not budged an inch.

It was not until he felt the familiar and abrupt spike in power, that he realized that the Decima had done all this, merely to unleash his latent hollow powers. He watched impassively as the transformation took place, the white cloth that bound the Arrancar unfurl only to swirl about him in a spiraling white mass. The seconds ticked by and once the transition was complete, he was beholden to the true form of the Decima.

To his utter disappointment, the form appeared completely human, devoid of anything remotely hollow-like. It was as if the Decima had traded all of that which made it powerful, that which defined his very essence, for the sake of this pathetic form. His eyes saw everything; pride in his human appearance, the exaltation as though freed from weakness, the arrogance in his power, as his reiatsu swelled about him in a chaotic thunderstorm of torrential lightning and dark energies.

But he could see the caution woven into the Decima's frame, the tension in his body, the palpable fear hidden beneath the show of bravado. He knows who and what he faces, like any hollow the Decima can feel it with every fiber of his being; before him, exists the very instrument of his demise, a force of death unto itself. Nothing short of his best would give him even an modicum chance to live through this day.

There was no transition, no indication of movement, one moment he was there staring at the Decima and the next he appeared before him, a single finger extended hovering inches before his face, as green energy rapidly gathered at its tip before it was unleashed in an attempt to obliterate the Decima in that instant.

All things became silent; the wispy hiss of the air faded, the columns of torrential columns of spiritual energy died down and vanished. Those piercing, emotionless emerald eyes slowly expanding into a chasm of arcing depsair, surmounting over the lesser desire that the Decima emphasized.

From afar, the human form of the Decima was seen sauntering over a sandy dune; his large build imposing compared to the slim frame of the well known Cuatra Espada. "I apologize for this humanoid form. But it's not uncommon for a Hollow to imitate a Shinigami or Human, or vice-versa. Whatever allows me to become stronger in the process" he explained, heaving the massive black rod beside him and over his shoulder.

His armor glistened as a plume of smoke blew away, with a single manuever by his finely tempered golden and black rod that smoke partitioned like a curtain being torn open and from its contents, the Resurrección form of Nèi was apparent; spiked, ragged hair spilled from his skull to his back and shimmering samurai adornments dressed his torso, all the while his spiritual pressure skyrocketed! "Meet my greatest form, Ulquiorra."

He shot an icy gaze, his twisted cruelty making his motivation known. The black clothing underneath his samurai garment billowed as he raised his spiritual power to its peak! Just as the corrosive aura emanated from the Decima, his spiritual power began to decimate the region around him.

However, obscured by the shadow of Hueco Mundo a slim physique struck! Silent and concise, steel rang like a bell as the Decima tried and failed in a counter-attack. The figure side-stepped and struck once more, twirling his feet at an angle so that his final blow sliced the Espada in two! Pieces of his cold, insensate body drifted to the ground and slammed with a thud. The arrancar cringed back and then looked at Ulquiorra, than back to the dying body before him.

Nèi's last words escaped his lips in a narrow, docile tone. But were full of vengefulness and scorn, to which the unknown assailant entirely ignored. As quickly as he came into existence, he fled, gone all and all; however he was observing. What remained withall of the former tenth was little, his head lolling over with nary a sound while the rest of his body, cold, husk of departed light, slowly faded until vanishing entirely into the dust...

Miles away atop a grey, crumbling tower, an arrancar in a black-clad outift sat in a tired hunch. His knee brought up as to rest his weary arm. "I never did like the number ten" he muttered to himself, his fur like hair ruffled by the wind and his slit snake-like eyes sharpened to a point looking awfully badass given what occurred prior, almost as if he could pass for a cover for some new shonen jump magazine.

He stood up and brushed his shoulder, removing the grime and droplets of blood that dotted his shoulders. The air grew disquieting as he stormed into view, cascading energy tugging at the fabric of space around the new warrior, and his intimidatingly-comptent visage - especially with that sword held so firmly within his hand. He pulled his arm upward and began to roll his shoulder, stretching and exercising the muscle there; making his shoulder bone creak hellishily while the air seemed leaden with decay and somber, the dead evaporating body still leaving a faint scent of doltish emptiness.

Meanwhile, the newcomer eyes scowered the weathered battlefield region, the arrancar quickly swiping his blade to remove the blood-tipped katana of its obscure noxius red shade. "I apologize for my rudeness. I had to get rid of the competition. Hello, Ulquiorra Cifer, it's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"A pity." Ulquiorra said closing its eyes in a moment of contemplation. "That the Espada have degenerated into such useless trash." Opening its eye's again, they locked briefly with the new arrival. Arrogant demeanor, but a wary stance, tense, but relaxed. The Arrancar seeks cooperation, not confrontation. Yet he speaks demanding words, as though I were his subordinate, his lesser.

Foolish.

Eyes flash, jaw clenches, feet subtlety spread further apart, a readied combat stance. It must have noticed the slightest shift in my reiatsu. Does he know that his existence hangs in the balance? Irrelevant. He seeks answers to questions not yet asked. He claims power, yet is unable to see through the completion of his own ambition. An aloof mask, to cover his own weakness. Pathetic.

Hand twitches, inching closer to hilt of sword, reiatsu gathering, preparing to be unleashed. He feels the fear. His instinct is telling him to flee, but instead he remains.

Seconds pass with an uncomfortable silence, before Ulquiorra speaks again, its voice, as dead as the last words of Nèi himself. "Shall I destroy you now Espada? Or do you have words worth knowing to delay the inevitable?"

"Eager aren't you - right to the point, I suppose. I should have expected you to be so straight-forward." The arrancar sounded genuinely interested, but whether this was a ploy or not had yet to be dissected, but surely would be by Ulquiorra. Sheathing his blade, he vanished - only to reappear before Ulquiorra Cifer, his eyes looking over the former Cuatro with benign deliberateness. "I do not wish to battle you, Ulquiorra. Battling you would be more detrimental toward my goal. Plus, it would rip half of Hueco Mundo apart, but you already know that, right?"

Almost as if a switch went off the arrancar clad in a monotous black attire brought his left hand to the back of his head, bashfully stewing and twirling his thick mane. "Ah, yes." He stepped toward the Espada closer, anticipating a strike but making no move to strike himself. To Ulquiorra this newcomer was either so arrogant he wouldn't attack with his blade, or so foolish to assume he would not be strucken down without hesitancy. "I am not an Espada. That espada - the one you just fought, was. I am not." He reiterated a second time, more forceful this time, more instinctual, in a sense. More like he was reading off of stone, dictating the absolute truth. He did not like the Espada.

"Allow me to elaborate: when you came back to this realm I went toward you immediately, see I'm a man of solvency, of ambition. I want you to assist me, Ulquiorra Cifer, nothing more." His left hand lowered, twirling his index finger around the hilt of his blade, as if he was a curious child. This was not the case; truthfully, he was ready to strike, but simply chose to await Cifer's first move. In his mind he was already winning, already determining the route this battle with tread. He appeared reluctant to use his blade however, and simply insinuating that he would not yield if battle did indeed arise. Whether it was arrogance or doubt, it was entirely Ulquiorra's choice to decide.

"..of course, it's your choice. You can, of your own volition, not stand beside me, Mizoukan Umikairaku, Ulquiorra." His eyes became sharp, his body entirely complacent yet his readiness was clear. The boding stench of decay ever-rising as wandering Hollow wandered onto the scene only to simply evaporate in the presence of these two nigh-gods, one of which had the presence of a domineering overlord and wasn't afraid to display such.

Ulquiorra did not respond with words, nor body language his body was like a statue carved from ivory marble; cold and unmoving, life-like but dead and impassionate to the world around it. It paused for several moments deliberating its action, when finally as the uncomfortable silence reached its zenith Ulquiorra Cifer, pivoted on the spot, and began walking away.

"I will not ally myself with trash who speak with hollowed words. Your ambition is narrow and limited. It has no more purpose than your pitiable life. You seek to validate an existence even you cannot fathom." It stopped mid stride, turning its head to glance in the Arrancar's direction, its lone visible eye boring into Mizoukan Umikairaku with unmistakenable apathy.

"Give up. Surrender yourself to the despair of your own powerlessness." Its words had all the force and impact of its terrible reiatsu as it redirected its gaze onward. "I will see for myself the state of the Espada." And the former Cuatra Espada continued on. Ignoring the presence of the bowing Arrancar. Mizoukan Umikairaku was nothing more than an insignificant ant in the eyes of Ulquiorra. So insignificant, he wasnt even worth killing.

A rich, deep voice filled with low curiousity and pure malice spoke from seemingly everywhere, booming from the surroundings with cold greed and leaking killing-intent that only a Hollow could possible bear - it laughed briefly and lowly, and muttered a simple setence: "You should think yourself no higher than I, for you are not, Ulquiorra Cifer." The words still escaped with a sense of want, desire - Mizoukan wasn't a man to be denied. He would bring Ulquiorra to his side, it was only a matter of time. Suddenly, the arrancar released his own spiritual pressure.

The sky grew a pitiful plum-ish color and the clouds appeared to moan and ache in pain, slowing to a crawl and widening, then vanishing without trace effectively dispersed into empty reishi. The ground then quivered and began to qauke very slightly, but still quite prominent given the once stillness of the landscape, if one could call it still given the varying scorch marks and jagged scars. Unusually, a sordid sensation flooded the senses, and it began to smell of the sea, as if vile salt water was attempting to force its way down Ulquiorra's throat. Despite Ulquiorra's somewhat spot-on summarization, the arrancar paid his words no mind; in his mind, Ulquiorra will work alongside he, for this was a wager consumated in blood, as one common unspoken law among arrancar. Hopefully, the Cuatro Espada would not as prove as fragile as Rudbornne had. He very briefly lamented for killing Rudbornne. He really hoped he wouldn't have to fight the Cuatro Espada too though....

With all the force of a herd of buffalo giving way to prey, Mizoukan's reiatsu slammed into Cifer from every angle but did not strike, instead cornering the Hell venturer until it equated a feeling of thickness in the air and intense claustrophobia. He wouldn't say it outright, but it was quite the troublesome task itself given Ulquiorra's own impressive reiatsu; he really didn't want to be invoked any more than that.

"You just witnessed myself cut the Tenth Espada down with a single slice yet you question my power and doubt my words. Who is truly powerless here, Espada? The one sent to hell, or the one who refuses hell itself? The one who has witnessed first-hand the fall of the Espada or you, who had died before you could see such a loathesome fallacy" he intoned.

Then, his reiatsu faded to the edge of Hueco Mundo, effectively vanishing as quick as it had come. The clouds returned and the blessedly full moon came to view once more, and with it, Mizoukan appeared, standing before Ulquiorra once more, persistent as ever. "Don't judge me as you judge others, Ulquiorra. Come with me and witness the atrocities of the so-called Espada for yourself. Their power has diminished and the strength of Soul Society has arisen ever since. If you still have qualms of me or my intention, then you are welcome to view upon Hueco Mundo in its current state; such disarray, such lack of conviction. Tell me if I am wrong?"

---

Honestly Ulquiorra didnt believe that the Arrancar would attempt to any offensive action. All indicators pointed to a warped inferiority complex wound by an idealistic and deluded sense of self worth about the Arrancar. So when it felt the pressure of the Arrancar's reiatsu releasing itself and attempting to crush everything around him, it was for a brief moment, mildly surprised.

But as quickly as the notion came it was gone, Ulquiorra rebuffed the pressure with practiced ease. Its instincts already erecting a sufficient barrier of its own reiatsu to counteract the forces of the Arrancar's spiritual power. It noted with detached interest the darkening of the sky, the pungent smell of stagnant water, and the sudden presence invading its space.

It thoughtfully considered the Arrancar's irrate response, the brief explosion of anger, the loss of control over the carefully laid mask it had no doubt worked tirelessly to perfect. It appeared this Arrancar no doubt felt it was indebted to some sense of respect...recognition for its power. A desire to be regarded as someone equal or superior perhaps? The undercurrent of indignation, of wounded pride in its tone suggested as much.

Still, the words that fall from the tongue of this Arrancar bore such hatred towards the Espada. His claims of degeneration and fallacy were but the repetitious echoes of the past. There were always those who despised the Espada, for what they represented, and for what those who held such beliefs did not. The Espada are the highest authority of power within the hierarchy of Hueco Mundo and to be excluded was the surest sign of one's own weakness. And so it wishes like countless others to bring the Espada down, or at the very least assume control as its leader.

But, it was in need of subordinates to carry out its objectives. Given the power it now commanded, Ulquiorra had no doubt that it couldnt assert its control over the remaining members. If necessary it could use this Arrancar to test the capabilities of the others and determine, if any, their value to its plans. But first, it needed to determine the capabilities of this Arrancar and the extent of its ambitions. If it proved to be too wild, Ulquiorra would simply destroy it, rather than allow it to disrupt its plans.

"You should know as a Hollow that respect is a meaningless concept. We do not cater to the machinations of petty human ideals. You claim strength and demand its authority yet you have proven neither." It said finally. "It appears you have forgotten the rule of Hueco Mundo. If you want others to cow before your before, then you must subjugate them under it. Diplomacy, negotiation, these are constructs invented by the weak which serve only to give voice to their powerlessness. Kill me, if you have the power. If you are stronger, then I will follow. But if you are weak then you will die."

"I tried to avoid this..." the arrancar trailed off, his voice more lamenting than before. Suddenly, his spiritual pressure rose to oceanic depths while his face bore the mask of a killer, one worn and sewn tight solely through experience, and killing. He would try to make this as simple, and quick as possible; sadly, it would not be, but atleast he could hope. In truth, he knew that his words wouldn't pierce Ulquiorra's cold shell of a heart, if the bastard even had one to begin with; Mizoukan despised him for his lack of etiquette because Ulquiorra always proved to be the type to only commit wholly if forced to subjugate. His fierce subservience was only granted to those with power, to those who proved to be powerful. But in the end, adding his strength to his army was worth it, and so, he would battle.

He unsheathed his blade, swiped it to his right with a fluid snap of the wrist, and took off; with a static sound permeating the air, Mizoukan stood before Ulquiorra like a lion before prey. With a quick thrust his right side lunged toward the Cuatro's eye-socket, all the while the temperature plunged and the very earth around them felt sunken, and fragile. He paid no mind to his opponents tone, position, level of respect, reiryoku, remaining strength or anything of the sort; it didn't matter, he knew that entirely because Ulquiorra most likely already thought his actions out, and the next action, and the next too.

Yes, Mizoukan knew this would be a long fight. A very long, and troublesome fight. He wished that damn Tenth Espada hadn't gotten here first; he wasted so much of his precious time in his very existence. He would personally ensure the Espada would no longer slow down his plans. All he had to do was survive his current predicament. "Good luck"' he thought, hastening the amount of spiritual pressure he exerted.

Ulquiorra could see the thoughts and emotions flicker across the face of its adversary. Surprise, regret, resignation, irritation, acceptance. Hmph. How utterly human, it thought with disgust. Its Pesquisa missed nothing as it detected the core of the Arrancar's spiritual power resonate with resolve, unleashing a torrent of its power, temporarily heightening its physical abilities. Muscles wrinkle, body tenses, shifts into a low stance, feet spread just enough to grant instant and maximum momentum. He's going to charge. In that moment, Mizoukan exploded into action, its sword arm reared back. A simple thrust. The Arrancar's arm flickered forward its zanpakutou nothing more than a faint silhouette.

Ulquiorra saw all this more. It was an opening attack designed to end conflicts swiftly, it held no real technique, but it did capitalize on the inherent augmented strength and speed of all Arrancar. But it was an utterly simple maneuver, its eyes had seen through it the moment Mizoukan's reiatsu flared. It swiftly brought up its arm and with a slight flick of its wrist clashed against the blade causing an eruption of sparks like the grinding of steel, as it sheared across Ulquiorra's indomintable carapace.

Still Ulquiorra's eyes bore no change. The same cold and empty gaze bore ruthlessly upon the Arrancar.

In the same motion its arm blurred into motion leaving a trail of green and black smoke as malignant and corrosive energies gathered at the tip of its outstretched finger, a already charged before unleashing a wave of emerald annihilation directly into Mizuoukan's face.

Whilst Ulquiorra was bombarding the Arrancar with a point-blank Cero, it gathered its reserves, partitioning its energy as its mind set itself for its other task. The air screeched as it was ripped apart a ways off to its right forming a, and with other vestiges of its energy it fired another Cero into the void, before closing the dimensional tear, starting the step of its next strategy.

"Of course it didn't work you idiot" Mizuoukan drawled, staring at the eye of storm. It was truly like an abyss.

His entire body convulsed for a moment, then he flickered and spun to the right; the ancient carapace stamping his foot down and spinning effortlessly to avoid the assault. It was definetely a cero that would have killed, not harm or mane, but outright kill. As he avoided the assault, from the corner of his eye he could plainly see a second emerald bundle of spirit energy vanish into a garganta. Admittedly, Ulquiorra must be either immensely annoyed or simply toying with Mizuoukan; the arrancar of passion would have to rectify that little notion, not caring which one it may have been. The air around them both became tight, dense, and utterly breathless - anything not accustomed would outright implode to the amount of energy being exerted.

Ulquiorra had a plan in mind, that much was obvious, but it mattered not. Mizuoukan's sword-wielding arm pulled back harshly, his long limb hastily dodging the remnants of the astonishingly wide, and large emerald cero. Once finally out of harms way and the cero entirely dissipated, he sonido'd to the other side of Ulquiorra, attacking from a leftward angle. But once in position with his feet planted firmly, his left hand coiled carelessly onto the tattered remains of Cifer's clothing. Despite the size, he was staring the fourth down in the eyes - right into the birthplace of the chasm of nothingness. He made no movement to strike at the moment, but tightened his grip powerfully and slowly pushed forward; his spiritual pressure remaining contingent with that of Ulquiorra's, both energies fighting for dominion over the other. It seemed to last for almost an eternity.

Then, he simply hoisted his almost invisibly-slim zanbatou and slowly began to edge it closer to his opponent. Fully aware that the foes hierro would prove formidable, he would enhance his energy on impact to pierce the cuatro's shell. All the while he continued to stare; the arrancar of passion reiryoku belittling and goading Cifer's pessimistic-filled reiryoku. There was no attempt to pull-back, retreat, or even hasten his assault; he would stab the Espada and that much was fact.

Ulquiorra remained eerily silent as Mizoukan narrowly evaded his Cero, watching with piercing eyes as the Arrancr disappeared and reappeared on its left flank. But instead of capitalizing and seizing the initiative, the foolish hollow had instead opted for a slow but deliberate attack, a desperate move in the hopes of inflicting an injury, anything at all upon its body. At another time, Ulquiorra would have verbally reprimended its opponent for such a careless waste of an opportunity. Instead it would inflict this lesson upon the Arrancar and etch it deep within its soul.

As the blade neared, Ulquiorra's intense eyes pierced through the gap between them, as power hummed beneath their cold visage. In the next instant, another dimensional tear ripped itself across Mizoukan's vision, though it was no bigger than Ulquiorra's head its purpose became abundantly clear. His sword and arm plunged into that dark swirling abyss, and for the briefest of moments, there was silence. Then with another audible screech the air tore apart as a second garganta hole formed, this one however a mere inch from Mizoukan's torso, and from its exit his own needle thin blade surged forward to claim victory against flesh, but not its original target.

With his vision blocked, and his attention no doubt preoccupied with being skewered by his own attack, Ulquiorra leapt back, intent on using Mizoukan's own grip as the catalyst for his own death strike. If Mizoukan refused to relent his grip, he would be forced forward, and unable to evade his own attack, therefore his only other option was to release, or to evade. With its plan in mind, Ulquiorra summoned forth another surge of energy, its reiatsu exploding outward in a blinding green light, before it converged around the tip of its outstretched finger, a massive well of concentrated energies at its tip. Howling winds screamed, and sand was thrown about as a sandstorm formed around Ulquiorra, as it prepared its counterattack. This would be a Cero several magnitudes higher in power than its previous shot, and it would wait for the moment Mizoukan committed himself, then he would fire.

It was impressive use of the garganta, that much was true. Ingenious really; the normal navigation technique modified to inflict damage. Mizoukan would have to ask Ulquiorra about this technique, and pick it up if he could. He felt his grip on the cuatro fade, and loosen, then peered into a deep, opaque, abyss. That damn garganta distracted him long enough, he forgot all things as he looked onward into the depths of the black hole. Afterwards, his eyes glanced back to see the visage of the Cuatro Espada, leaping back in fear and reveling in his own, inevitably futile tactics.

Realization slowly crept upon him, the desire arrancar feeling the spiritrons designate themselves under Ulquiorra's subjugation. The sudden flash of light that accompanied afterward gave him enough confirmation. He ignored the rancid shade of his own blood that tipped his zanbatou - those damn gargantas' sudden appearance being the major culprit for this - and quickly, he converged his spiritual pressure in front of his fingertip. The minor wound to the left of his abdominals meant nothing, and the vanishing garganta meant nothing, hell, the sandstorm was nothing more than an annoyance; his cero would be the defining point of the battle.

The space around Mizoukan suddenly became distorted, twisted and convulsed as if it were dying. In a flash, an agitated blue orb surfaced at his nail, and cleaved the space around it. The sand beneath his feet ruptured as if a nail was wrenched from a bloody wound, spiking upward and then whim to complete annihilation. The black sky became seized under the warfare of the two arrancar, appearing to disintegrate above them as they both prepared cataclysmic cero. The once merely agitated sphere began to thrum and wail with energy, conflicting Ulquiorras' own until both scorched streaks into the sky like fireworks.

Both stood firm, neither firing yet. Mizoukan's eyes appeared to possess not a scrap of ambition as he merely stood, anticipating his opponents next movement; a single twitch of the cheek, or a mere flicker of his eye and then he would fire. Regretfully, it would have been endlessly fascinating to watch the verdant shine of both collective energies, but it would end soon because it had too. And so, he fired.