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From beginning to end, Moyu had never believed Ulquiorra's words. To kill himself and then return his soul to Soul Society—such nonsense might sound plausible if Aizen had truly dispatched the full ranks of the Espada to the present world. But with only Ulquiorra and Grimmjow, the idea was impossible.
Ulquiorra's expression remained indifferent, voice calm as he replied, "Kuchiki Moyu, you seem to know more than you should."
Moyu's gaze was steady, his tone colder still. "I know far more about Aizen than you imagine."
Without hesitation, Ulquiorra clasped both hands at his chest. Emerald reiatsu surged violently around him, and under Moyu's narrowed eyes, his claws drove directly into his own heart. Black blood spilled. The scene turned eerie, unnatural.
"What is this expansion supposed to be?" Moyu's voice carried faint surprise. "Suicide?"
But Ulquiorra calmly drew his hand free, revealing a still-beating heart. "Killing you is the highest mission Lord Aizen entrusted to us."
Grimmjow staggered at the side, battered and broken. Across his abdomen, above the hollow hole, a crimson brand burned into his flesh. The wound had eaten so deep that raw muscle was exposed, refusing to heal even under hollow regeneration. Blood trailed from his lips, his injuries grave. More unsettling was his tone when he spoke Aizen's name. Grimmjow, who once snarled with disdain, now spoke with reverence. Something had changed.
Ulquiorra's gaze never wavered. "Your power exceeds our understanding. Therefore, we can only take the next course." He crushed the heart in his hand.
The black blood burst outward, but instead of scattering, the liquid hung suspended in the air, fixed unnaturally in place. Moyu's winds flared into a barrier around him, yet the strange blood remained motionless.
"This is an ability beyond natural law, forged by Lord Aizen through the Hōgyoku," Ulquiorra intoned. "Reiatsu Collapse."
The words fell, and the black blood detonated, expanding into a devouring storm. Darkness rolled through the barrier, engulfing everything.
Moyu felt the pressure instantly. "So fast… Aizen and the Hōgyoku have already fused to this degree?" A prickling sense of wrongness shivered down his spine. His reiatsu itself began to unravel.
The collapse worked not like destruction, but disassembly. At the spiritual level it was demolition—pulling apart the fundamental particles of reiatsu like bricks ripped from a wall.
Moyu frowned, watching keenly. The devouring dark resembled a beast with countless unseen mouths, gnawing ceaselessly at his reiatsu. In a single breath, half the energy he had cast outward was gone. He did not dare test its effect directly on his body. Let specialists analyze such forces—his task was survival.
Lifting his gaze, he pierced through the black haze toward Ulquiorra and Grimmjow. Ulquiorra's finger traced the air. At once, the space beside him shattered like glass, opening into Garganta.
The void yawned wide. Their escape had been prepared.
"Farewell, Kuchiki Moyu," Ulquiorra said with cold finality. "Your life belongs to Lord Aizen."
"Come and go as you please?" Moyu's voice cut sharp, his zanpakutō raised. Winds howled across the blade, tearing jagged rents through the collapsing space itself. Reiatsu continued to be broken down, but the sheer output Moyu released surpassed the rate of decomposition.
Ulquiorra's pupils shrank. Instinct screamed danger.
"Lan Yin."
The blade fell. A gale like an endless scythe erupted. Space shredded. The wind blades tore forward, biting into Ulquiorra and Grimmjow's chests. Flesh decayed under the storm, breathing faltered, life bled away. Death's shadow pressed close.
Their regeneration raged wildly, regrowing what was shredded, but could not stem the tide of decay. Ulquiorra's face hardened. Without hesitation, he seized Grimmjow and hurled him into the Garganta. To linger here meant certain death. Only Hueco Mundo held a sliver of survival.
"If you crawl back to Las Noches alive," Moyu said indifferently, "tell Aizen I said hello. Perhaps we will meet again soon."
Ulquiorra's own life was unraveling. Reiatsu plummeted, flesh decayed faster than it could rebuild. Even regeneration, sharpened countless times, could not hold back the rot. He clenched his teeth, emerald eyes fixed on Moyu, burning to see his fall. Yet Moyu, wrapped in collapsing reiatsu, stood unchanged.
This so-called "regular power" was only an imitation of law, birthed through Aizen's union with the Hōgyoku. It threatened, yes, but its limits showed quickly. When the volume of reiatsu surpassed a threshold, collapse itself was overwhelmed.
And reiatsu was what Moyu had in endless supply.
[Because your reiatsu was forcefully unraveled, you feel discontent. Your competitive spirit sharpens, comprehension surges—you touch the realm of Shattered Reiatsu!]
His soul stirred. Power shifted. Reiatsu itself transformed silently within him. Before his eyes, the collapse effect waned, then vanished entirely. In only a few breaths, the darkness dissolved. The sky returned, though below, nothing remained but ruin.
Buildings were reduced to rubble. Streets were shattered, pits gaping in the earth. Against Espada-level combat, the mortal world's cities were fragile shells, collapsing at the faintest clash.
From the city's edge, a flare of familiar reiatsu approached. Matsumoto Rangiku arrived, panting, her eyes darting across the destruction.
Moyu floated above the wreckage, gathering the lingering fragments of Szayelaporro's void barrier into his hand. Unlike the so-called "medicine," this creation piqued his interest more.
"Captain…" Rangiku gasped, flying toward him. Concern sharpened her gaze. "Are you alright?"
From the outside, Moyu looked untouched. But could anyone be certain the Arrancar held no hidden abilities?
"I'm fine," he said quietly, sheathing his blade. "Though it's a shame those two slipped away."
Rangiku exhaled in relief, pressing a hand to her chest. "As long as you're safe. But Captain… it's not just Naruki City. Reports came in from Sakaihara, Karakura Town, and at least five more cities. Signs of Menos Grande everywhere—some even Arrancar." Her expression hardened. "The present world is in chaos."
Moyu's gaze deepened. He sealed the fragments of the void barrier with a casual kido, storing them away. He could not study it, but he knew someone who could.
"The situation is worse than I thought," he murmured. Spreading his perception, his reiatsu swept outward. Across multiple cities, he felt it—the violent chaos of hollow flocks.
What exactly was Aizen planning? Was this only a diversion to split Soul Society's focus? Or something deeper?
Rangiku's eyes flickered thoughtfully. "Maybe… maybe there's something he still wants here."
Moyu shook his head with certainty. "No. What Aizen wanted, he already took. From the start, he cared only for the Hōgyoku. And now, it's in his hands."
Before Rangiku could reply, Moyu's eyes shifted. He felt the approach of two powerful reiatsu signatures. Rangiku stiffened, nerves on edge. She recognized them instantly.
Former Kidō Chief, Tessai Tsukabishi. And beside him, the ex-captain of the Twelfth Division—Urahara Kisuke.
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