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The moment Ulquiorra's voice fell, the concentration of reishi in Naruki City spiked several levels, surging to a density rivaling Karakura Town itself. The blue sky darkened, swallowed by rolling clouds until the world below was drowned in shadow, as though night had devoured the city.
"Dorudoni also made his sacrifice," Ulquiorra said evenly, his tone flat, as though nothing unfolding was outside his grasp. "A Negación-like construct was woven into his body, enough to drag you into another world."
A thunderous beam erupted from the heavens, a pillar of light descending from the black clouds, its radius engulfing nearly a hundred miles. Moyu's eyes narrowed as the change struck him. "Reiatsu?"
Ulquiorra's gaze never wavered. "Correct. In your first clash with Szayel Aporro, he extracted a fragment of your spiritual pressure. With it, he immersed himself in experiment after experiment, yielding results he deemed invaluable. His fracción were one such product."
Moyu's lips curved faintly, interest sparking. "So with only a scrap of my reiatsu, he crafted something designed to suppress me. Truly, Szayel Aporro deserves the title of mad scientist—second only to Urahara and Kurotsuchi."
Ulquiorra continued, unperturbed. "At the instant Lumina and Verona perished, they released a compound created specifically for you. The dark clouds overhead are its effect. You must have noticed it."
Indeed, Moyu could feel it now—the faint drag on his reiryoku, its flow dulled, its range compressed, as though sluggish under invisible weight. Yet even as he recognized it, his reiatsu responded, adapting and evolving. Within breaths, the suppression fractured and vanished, countered by the natural recoil of his own spirit. Ulquiorra, unaware, pressed on.
"When the light falls, the hollows within its range are empowered. Take Grimmjow—his strength is now more than tripled. The balance has shifted."
Grimmjow's hand tightened around his zanpakutō, bloodlust burning in his eyes. "Perfect. Let's fight!"
With a roar, he leapt, the force of his launch tearing the ground beneath into a crater. A blur of blue light split the darkness as he appeared above Moyu, blade poised high, dripping with sharpened reiatsu. The sheer oppression came first, a blade's edge carried by the wind itself. Even from meters away, it was like being flayed alive.
"Tripled strength," Moyu murmured without inflection. "An earth-shaking change indeed." His hand slid across the hilt at his waist. With a flick, cold steel whispered free, and the air ignited with a storm of spiritual wind.
Grimmjow's pupils constricted. Reiatsu coiled around Moyu in crushing waves, too fast to evade, too late to halt. A snarl split his face as he poured everything into his strike. "Pantera—Claw of the Wild Fang!"
The blue blade howled, a jaguar's phantom roaring as it descended.
The clash came like a world splitting.
Boom.
The detonation shook the city. The gale ripped buildings from their foundations, dust choking the air until even Ulquiorra's sharp gaze could not pierce it. And then—one figure hurtled from the storm.
Grimmjow's body was flung like a ragdoll, smashing through towers with bone-crushing force, each impact tearing stone and steel to ruin. When he finally staggered upright, blood gushed from his mouth, staining his jaw and chest. The hole at his torso was slick with red. For the first time, his eyes carried something foreign—fear.
He had sought strong opponents all his life, but against Moyu, there was no battle to be had. Only despair.
Ulquiorra's expression, ever calm, tightened. Even beneath the suppression, Moyu's power held absolute superiority. "So," he murmured, "Szayel Aporro's work has failed again. Your strength is untouched."
Moyu's lips curled. "Failed? Tell me, Ulquiorra…" His blade gleamed, reiatsu rising in waves that stripped the rooftop bare. "…when did you have the illusion that I was suppressed?"
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