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The instant their words fell, spiritual pressure erupted. In a heartbeat, a storm of reiatsu surged toward Moyu, shaking the void itself. Grimmjow's power howled like claws through the air, his blue aura gouging the ruined ground, ripping it apart as if the world itself resisted his rage. The jagged reiatsu churned, battering Moyu's white feathers, while above, Ulquiorra's power ascended, blackening the heavens.
The clouds thickened, then split. From the shrouded sky fell a downpour of obsidian raindrops, each drop condensed from Ulquiorra's reiatsu, soaking the barren landscape with a suffocating desolation. Moyu's brows knit in mild surprise. He had not expected them to press forward at this moment. Szayelaporro's drug might have failed against him, yet the void barrier's enhancements to Arrancar were undeniable. In Resurrección, their power swelled geometrically, their oppression vastly heavier than before.
The gale bent to Moyu's command, circling him, keeping their encroaching storm at bay. Grimmjow's body burst into blue radiance as his release completed. A flash of blinding light tore through the void, and where it faded, he stood reborn—a towering leopard-man clad in white armor. Turquoise markings streaked across his temples, his ears reshaped into predatory tufts, while his hair cascaded like a mane in the storm. His turquoise eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto Moyu with primal intent.
The black rain ceased. From Ulquiorra, emerald reiatsu flared, scattering the clouds. Yet the heavens did not brighten; they darkened further, swallowed by the abyss of his release. Wings vast as the horizon unfurled, blotting the sky, each beat a wave of suffocating oppression. The helmet upon his head curved into sharp horns, claws lengthening into black talons rivaling Grimmjow's own. His unblinking emerald eyes fixed coldly on Moyu.
"Continue," Grimmjow growled, the low sound reverberating like a predator's purr. "Let's fight!"
In the next instant, he vanished, speed heightened to near-teleportation. The twin blades jutting from his arms gleamed as they slashed with lethal precision, his unruly gaze drilling into Moyu's heart. His claws, hardened beyond steel, cut straight toward Moyu's chest—the full force of a predator who dared not underestimate his prey.
Steel rang. Sparks burst as talons clashed against zanpakutō. Grimmjow's eyes widened in horror. "My claw…?!" Before the shock left his lips, wind roared at his abdomen. Reflex screamed danger, but at such range he could not retreat.
The blow landed with a dull thunder. Moyu's left fist, rising like an ascending dragon, drove deep into his gut. Grimmjow's body was hurled back the way it came, crashing through structures that collapsed in waves of stone and dust.
Pain seared his body. Dazed, Grimmjow stared in disbelief. Even after Resurrección, his doubled strength could not withstand Moyu's strike. He had been crushed instantly, without even an exchange. Was this the might of one of Soul Society's strongest? A foe who had not even drawn upon shikai yet, and still reduced him to helplessness? For the first time, doubt crept into Grimmjow's heart.
Ulquiorra moved. Silent as death, he raised his hand, emerald reiatsu condensing into a long, swordlike construct. Unlike Grimmjow's wild ferocity, Ulquiorra's pressure coiled inward, so muted it almost vanished. Moyu's senses, however, never left him.
Behind Moyu, emerald light flickered—Moonlight Sword. The strike came down, sharp and exact, piercing for his heart. Moyu did not flinch. His zanpakutō swept backward, intercepting with practiced ease.
Steel met spirit. The Moonlight Sword cracked. Its reiatsu lacked the solidity of Grimmjow's claws, and under Moyu's strength, fractures spread. Ulquiorra's eyes narrowed. Before the blade shattered entirely, his left hand rose. At his fingertip, black light bloomed.
"Cero Oscuras."
The void itself trembled. Darkness surged, exploding point-blank. Ulquiorra's expression did not change. At this distance, even Moyu could not emerge unscathed. The black torrent engulfed him, swallowing the air in a storm of annihilation.
But as the beam faded, the remnants scattered against something unseen. Ulquiorra's eyes widened faintly. Moyu stood unharmed, surrounded by swirling black wind, a barrier woven of his reiatsu itself. The tide of destruction had been devoured.
"Surprised?" Moyu's voice cut the silence, calm as ever. "Do you still not understand the difference between us?"
Ulquiorra's body tensed, instincts screaming. He raised his arms to shield himself, hierro hardening. But Moyu was already gone. A flash of blood split the air, two arms severed in an instant. Crimson rained skyward, staining the storm. Ulquiorra's eyes widened in disbelief. He had neither tracked the strike nor felt its pressure. His regeneration ignited, black particles swarming, rebuilding his limbs, but Moyu's eyes were cold. In the face of overwhelming power, regeneration was only a delay. Nothing more than a living target.
Ulquiorra's wings beat hard, spinning him away, but Grimmjow's roar split the void. His reiatsu spiked violently, flooding the barrier.
"Gran Rey Cero!"
Blue radiance erupted like a tidal wave, tearing through the barrier and sky alike. The colossal beam raged upward, slicing the heavens, erasing towers in its wake. The roar thundered through the void.
Ulquiorra's hands crossed, emerald energy pooling, darkness spiraling into a vast sphere. The void quaked as his own Cero Oscuras unleashed, a shadow to Grimmjow's light. Two royal Ceros detonated, devouring the world together.
Moyu stood unmoved, haori fluttering in the gale, expression untouched by awe or fear. "Exaggerated," he murmured. His blade lifted.
The wind fell silent, the world itself pausing. Black reiatsu swelled around him, viscous and consuming, an abyss without end.
"Mad Blue—Raging Storm."
The blade fell.
The air erupted in shrieking gales. Blades of wind tore reality apart, ripping through twin Ceros as if they were mist. The explosion shook the void, shredding the barrier itself, unraveling all of Szayelaporro's preparations. Space collapsed, reduced to nothing beneath the storm.
When the winds calmed, silence pressed down. Steady footsteps echoed. Ulquiorra, pale, raised his eyes. Moyu walked forward through the wreckage, zanpakutō in hand, expression indifferent.
"Now," he said, voice cutting through the ruin, "tell me Aizen's true purpose."
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