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From the very beginning, Szayel Aporro's schemes were doomed. When Moyu's reiatsu broke through into its ultimate form, no conventional method could bind it. Szayel Aporro's vision never left the confines of Shinigami and Hollow; he failed to look beyond, to the wider possibilities. Special drugs and suppressants were merely the discarded toys of Kurotsuchi Mayuri.
Ulquiorra, recovering from his moment of surprise, returned to his detached calm. "The plan deviated slightly, but the augmentation of the void field is real. You cannot escape death."
The ruins erupted as Grimmjow burst free, roaring like a beast unleashed. "Don't get cocky, Shinigami! I'll kill you!" His violent reiatsu shaped itself into jagged claws, tearing at the air, blue light rending the atmosphere.
Moyu frowned. Grimmjow's fury made his strength surge again, but his technique had become reckless. In a blur, Grimmjow swung his zanpakutō like a hammer, aiming to crush Moyu's skull, the strike howling with wind. Moyu dipped low, letting the blade graze past, his own reiatsu pooling on his arm. He stepped forward, fist arcing upward.
"White Hits—Tiger Eater."
A phantom tiger roared as his blow slammed into Grimmjow's abdomen. The Espada's body folded and vanished into the distance, tumbling in afterimages. Ulquiorra's gaze darkened. The disparity in strength was undeniable—Grimmjow, Espada Six, reduced to this state, while he himself, Espada Four, could hardly claim superiority. To kill Moyu seemed impossible.
A jaguar's roar shook the air as crimson reiatsu gathered violently around Grimmjow. The pressure sharpened, dense and lethal. "Cero!"
Ulquiorra stepped back instantly, distancing himself from the blast radius. He would not risk unnecessary injury; survival was required to fulfill Aizen's orders. Moyu, however, remained unmoving, eyes calm. Suppression had failed; no artificial boost could change that. Unless one transcended their limits as Aizen had, no number advantage could shift the outcome.
The crimson beam tore from Grimmjow's palm, carving through buildings like paper, twisting the air itself with searing heat. The torrent, ten meters wide, barreled toward Moyu, its destruction absolute.
"Bakudō 81: Dankū."
Moyu's palm lifted, voice quiet, and a transparent barrier split the air before him. The Cero smashed into it, dyeing the shield crimson, the clash shaking the city. Grimmjow's eyes widened as the torrent began to break apart. He knew the scale of his attack, and to see it held so effortlessly crushed him. The sensation was like a stream crashing against a mountain—fragile, insignificant.
In breaths, the Cero dissolved into spirit particles, scattered like dust. Grimmjow stared in disbelief, fear mixing with confusion. Even Ulquiorra's gaze hardened, the calm stripped from his eyes. Moyu had shattered their confidence.
"Your attack is over." Moyu lowered his hand, his voice cold. "Now it's my turn. Hadō 88—Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō."
A thread of white lightning leapt from his palm, crossing space in an instant. Before either Espada could react, the spark exploded outward, swelling into a raging storm tens of meters thick. A false sun blazed within the void, hurling thunder in every direction. The world drowned in white.
Grimmjow, drained from his Cero, could not defend. Despair flared in his eyes as the storm enveloped him. But Ulquiorra raised his blade, dark green reiatsu shaping itself into a vast shield that covered them both.
The thunder consumed everything. Buildings vaporized, the earth split into craters, the air itself scorched. The storm raged for ten full breaths before fading, leaving behind a wasteland of charred stone and smoldering pits.
When the light cleared, the Espada were revealed. Grimmjow's body was burned black, clothing shredded, his flesh seared and smoking. He gasped for breath, astonished he still lived. Ulquiorra, however, bore worse—his arm shattered at the elbow, bone blackened under the lightning's wrath.
Moyu's eyes narrowed. He had expected one of them to be rendered incapable of fighting, yet both still stood—Ulquiorra's intervention had blunted the blow. Then his gaze sharpened further as reiatsu surged from Ulquiorra's wound, and the arm regenerated before his eyes.
"High-Speed Regeneration…" Moyu muttered, envy flickering in his tone. In battle between equals, the one who could heal would always hold the advantage.
As if answering his thought, the long-silent system spoke within his mind.
[Your body has witnessed the High-Speed Regeneration of Ulquiorra Cifer. Your comprehension has doubled. You have awakened the Void System—the Power of Regeneration.]
Moyu's expression shifted. So this could be learned? Ulquiorra embodied regeneration itself, choosing evolution through survival, a trait that placed him above most Espada.
Ulquiorra, reading the subtle change on Moyu's face, said evenly, "You are strong. But strength alone does not mean you cannot be killed." His tone was factual, devoid of emotion.
Beside him, Grimmjow's burned body flared with reiatsu, forcing his wounds to knit. His regeneration was cruder, slower than Ulquiorra's, but impressive nonetheless. "In respect for strength," he growled, voice low and feral, "I'll use everything I have."
Ulquiorra did not stop him. Instead, his own dark green reiatsu swelled, drowning the sky. Grimmjow's blue power burned beside it, the two forces colliding and twisting the air, cracking the heavens above.
Their voices rose together, commands resounding across Naruki City.
"Grind, Pantera!"
"Enclose, Murciélago!"
The void itself shook as the twin releases erupted, the sixth and fourth Espada unleashing their Resurrección in unison.
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