Invisible yet incredibly oppressive surges of spiritual pressure intertwined in the air. The atmosphere felt as if it had been instantly vacuumed, becoming thick and stifling, making it difficult to even breathe.
One mountain cannot hold two tigers. Top predators typically maintain their own exclusive territories, and Hollows are no different. In fact, due to their naturally violent temperaments, Hollows are even more territorial, refusing to tolerate any intrusion by other beings.
Consequently, a gathering of so many Menos—beings at the very pinnacle of the food chain—at Las Noches was a rare sight indeed, unseen for centuries.
Hollows are creatures born from the corruption of human souls. After death, some souls remain in the living world due to lingering attachments or other obstacles, unable to ascend to the Soul Society. Over time, through cycles of grief and torment, a cold, white bone mask forms over their faces, and they fall to become Hollows.
The defining characteristic of a Hollow is the massive hole in their chest known as a Hollow hole, representing the void within their hearts. As they continue to kill and evolve, the position of this hole can shift, sometimes moving to rather peculiar locations.
For example, the future 8th Espada, Szayelaporro Grantz, found his Hollow hole relocated to the tip of his glans after his Arrancarization. One could only wonder if that affected his daily life.
"Hmph, your noses are sharp indeed," Baraggan snorted coldly. He ceased his use of Respira, and without its source, the black mist filling the sky began to thin.
Baraggan was an extremely conceited Hollow. Had it only been Harribel's warning, he never would have obediently retracted his ability. However, with so many Menos arriving on the scene, he was primarily concerned about being ganged up on and losing his status as the 'strongest.'
Rarely does true friendship exist among Menos. To have climbed from the state of a mindless Hollow to their current positions, every one of them was a top-tier powerhouse who had carved a path through a mountain of corpses. They all viewed one another with absolute vigilance.
"So it's a Soul Reaper. I was wondering why you were suddenly throwing a tantrum, Baraggan," Ulquiorra Cifer spoke slowly, his back bearing wings resembling those of a bat.
Unlike the other Menos, Ulquiorra's face was no longer covered by a white mask. He had already relied on his own strength to break the shackles of his mask and reclaim more of his 'humanity.'
Based on that alone, Ulquiorra far surpassed Baraggan. Ninety percent of Baraggan's power was derived from his ability of 'Aging'; beyond that, he had no other advantages compared to the other Menos.
In the original history, Menos capable of achieving Arrancarization on their own were exceptionally rare. Only three were ever recorded: the 1st Espada, Coyote Starrk; the 4th Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer; and the former 3rd Espada, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck.
Aside from those three, every other Menos required Aizen to use the Hogyoku to undergo the transformation and further their evolution.
"Are Soul Reapers so arrogant these days?" Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez barked, baring his teeth. Half of his body crouched low to the ground, his hands and feet retaining beast-like characteristics, while his bone mask resembled a panther. His long blue hair flowed behind him.
"Just two of them dare to invade Hueco Mundo? Are they here to die?" Grimmjow was impatient, his claws scratching restlessly at the sand.
While the Menos were not harmonious with each other, their attitude toward Soul Reapers was unanimous. Hollows and Soul Reapers were natural enemies—an impression deeply ingrained over a millennium.
The black mist continued to churn. As Makiya devoured the 'Aging' power, the Phoenix within him completed another cycle of nirvana. A bright red light completely suppressed the black gas surrounding his body, and a vibrant life force radiated outward, causing a small patch of resilient green sprouts to poke through the barren sand.
Snap!
Crushing the tender green sprouts under his foot, the tall, slender Menos wearing a mantis-like mask, Nnoitra Gilga, complained with annoyance, "What a disgusting scent. Just a whiff of it makes me want to gag."
Six mantis arms flailed in the air. Nnoitra was a battle-hungry zealot. He scanned the gathered Menos and sneered disdainfully, "What are you all waiting for? So much hesitating. Since no one else plans to move, I'll be the one to take this Soul Reaper's life!"
With that, a startling explosive force erupted from beneath Nnoitra's feet. He turned into a streak of golden light and lunged at Makiya, his six arms waving as the tips of his blades glinted with cold light.
At that moment, the black mist around Makiya had just finished dissipating, and he was slowly sheathing Chisato.
Makiya stretched lazily, appearing entirely oblivious to the situation. It was as if he wasn't the one surrounded by Menos; his posture was casual, leaving him seemingly full of openings.
"This 'Aging' power is quite good." Makiya's gaze bypassed Nnoitra to look at Baraggan, who was hovering in the air. After challenging everyone in the Gotei 13 except for the Head Captain, it had been a long time since he experienced such a massive surge in spiritual pressure.
Although the amount of growth was negligible compared to the total volume within him, if he could capture Baraggan and use him as a labor source, the long-term gains would be substantial.
And then...
Makiya's eyes swept over the group of Menos. Each of them represented a form of death. Even if they weren't as potent as Baraggan's 'Aging,' the difference likely wasn't that great.
From the looks of it, Aizen hadn't had the chance to lay a hand on Hueco Mundo yet. Perhaps he could do something here.
Makiya touched the pocket on his chest, where his unique Hogyoku was kept. Its structure was derived from Uhara's design but fused with Chisato's unique attributes, making it different from the traditional version.
After all, he had merged with so many of his own memories and knowledge. Even a fool could become a profound scientist under those conditions, and Makiya was far from a fool. Having spent so much time researching alongside Uhara, creating his own Hogyoku was only natural.
"Damn brat, don't ignore me!"
An angry roar erupted in front of Makiya. Nnoitra's six blade-like mantis arms stabbed at him from six different angles—targeting his head, neck, heart, legs, and lungs. Each strike was lethal; if even one landed, Makiya would be left crippled or dead.
"Hey, what's with that Soul Reaper? Did he get scared stiff?" the massive Yammy Llargo asked, scratching his head.
"My 'Aging' isn't so easily digested. To devour 'Aging' without paying a price is impossible." Baraggan attributed the situation to his own power, believing the 'Aging' had slowed Makiya's reactions, making it impossible for him to respond to Nnoitra's chaotic assault.
"Hah, a battle of attrition? What's the point of winning like that?" The panther-like Grimmjow sneered. He sought fair and honorable combat and felt only contempt for the actions of Baraggan and Nnoitra.
If it were him, he would certainly wait for Makiya to fully recover before attacking. Otherwise, even a victory would be hollow and meaningless.
Watching silently from the sidelines, Harribel's brow suddenly furrowed. She felt Makiya's aura turn incredibly sharp as a flash of white light, fast beyond belief, suddenly appeared in his eyes.
Clang!
A massive sound echoed through Las Noches. If one listened closely, they would realize it wasn't a single sound, but six separate clangs merged into one. Because the interval between them was so short, they sounded like a single note.
A white flash of a blade passed by. Makiya and Nnoitra stood back-to-back, having swapped positions. Makiya's expression remained calm as he casually flicked his blade, sending the droplets of blood on the side of the steel into the sand.
Nnoitra took a few more steps forward, fueled by his momentum, before he suddenly felt as if his six arms were weightless. Then, his blade-like limbs flew into the air as fountains of blood erupted from the stumps.
"He actually..." Baraggan was secretly astonished, but to maintain his dignity as a king, he said nothing.
In contrast, the blunt Grimmjow burst into laughter, his panther mask emitting a series of taunts, "Hahaha! This is killing me! Nnoitra, weren't you the one constantly bragging about being the strongest in Hueco Mundo? How did you get your arms cut off in less than a second? Pathetic, truly pathetic!"
"Damn you, Grimmjow! Shut your mouth!" Nnoitra roared. Looking at Makiya's back, a sinister light flashed in his eyes.
Unlike Grimmjow, who pursued fair fights, Nnoitra would do anything to win. Using any means necessary was the perfect description of his style. When faced with an unbeatable foe, he would feign weakness to launch a sneak attack; taking hostages was common practice for him.
The former 3rd Espada, Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, had been ambushed and heavily wounded by Nnoitra in collaboration with another Espada before being driven out of Las Noches.
"A perfect opportunity. You arrogant Soul Reaper, regret your hubris!"
Watching Makiya's back, Nnoitra's eyes gleamed with excitement. A viscous white liquid gushed from the stumps of his six arms, and in less than a second, his blade-like limbs had completely regrown.
High-Speed Regeneration!
This was a unique ability possessed only by a few Menos. As long as there was energy in the body, damage to non-vital organs was trivial; they could be regrown in a matter of minutes.
Having recovered, Nnoitra rose quietly, a golden power manifesting on the surface of his body. His hideous bone mask split open, and a long, thin tongue snaked out through the gap.
Golden energy gathered at the tip of his tongue before a thick golden beam of light shot forth. The distance between Makiya and Nnoitra was less than seven paces, and the energy impact unique to Hollows arrived in an instant, kicking up heavy wind pressure.
Within seven paces, is a Cero faster, or a blade?
Before today, every Menos would have given the same answer without hesitation: the Cero. A Cero fired by a Menos was like a beam of expanding light; an ordinary Soul Reaper couldn't hope to block it. Its speed far exceeded visual perception, leaving no time for countermeasures before it hit.
Rippp!
Makiya proved with action that within seven paces, his blade was both faster and more precise.
Chisato moved with seamless perfection. With a backhanded strike, the golden Cero, laden with immense energy, was sliced clean in two. In the face of Makiya's blade, the high-speed explosive energy was like tofu hitting a kitchen knife.
Boom! Boom!
The bisected Cero bypassed Makiya's body and flew toward the distant horizon, followed by a massive golden explosion that shook the heavens and earth, the thunderous roar echoing endlessly.
The blade light did not stop. The moment he sliced the Cero, Makiya stepped forward with his blade. The bright red edge moved like a dancing butterfly in his hand. Nnoitra tried in vain to block with his six arms, but Chisato unerringly found the gap and plunged directly into Nnoitra's mouth.
Blood sprayed across the white sand, accompanied by the sight of Nnoitra's severed tongue falling to the ground.
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