Within the silent halls of Las Noches, in the towering spires of the fifth palace, the sound of footsteps echoed—da, da, da—each heavy fall reverberating in the dark corridor. Kurosaki Ichigo dragged his battered body forward, limping toward the place Grimmjow had pointed him. His breath was ragged, every step deep and uneven, yet the path remained strangely clear. No Hollows, no Arrancar, no opposition at all, which only made his brow furrow. Where had all those Espada vanished to? The emptiness itself was unsettling.
The echo of his stride suddenly doubled. Ichigo halted, eyes narrowing, hand tightening around Zangetsu's hilt. The sound was no illusion—someone else was coming. He braced himself, and soon two figures emerged from the shadows. When his gaze fixed upon the face of one, his pupils constricted.
"Inoue!" Ichigo's voice cracked, raw with disbelief and sudden relief.
Orihime stood there, her lips trembling, eyes reddening at the sight of him. His uniform was torn, his chest soaked in blood, yet his eyes still burned with fire. She could see the cost of his reckless charge into Hueco Mundo etched into his every wound. For her sake, he and his companions had endured far too much.
"Inoue," Ichigo cried, voice trembling yet fierce, "I'll take you out of this hell! I'll get you out of Aizen's prison no matter what!"
But the momentary hope was cut short by a cold, merciless voice. Ulquiorra stepped into the dim light, pale eyes devoid of warmth as they fixed upon Ichigo.
"Give up," the Espada said flatly, the words delivered as if they were law itself.
"Tch… you bastard…" Ichigo's teeth ground together as his glare burned with killing intent. He lifted Zangetsu, shoulders trembling not from fear, but from a fighting spirit that refused to yield. "Inoue, watch closely. I'll crush this guy and take you back!"
His roar split the stillness. "Bankai!"
A torrent of spiritual pressure exploded outward as his form blurred into black. Tensa Zangetsu gleamed in his grasp, and as the mask of the Hollow snapped into place across his face, his reiatsu howled through the corridor like a storm. The crushing weight of his power pressed outward, but Ulquiorra did not so much as blink.
"Give up," Ulquiorra repeated, tone colder still, as though unmoved by Ichigo's surge of strength. "I brought her here to witness reality with her own eyes. You have no chance."
"Shut up and fight!" Ichigo bellowed, chest heaving, eyes blazing.
His demand was met with silence. Ulquiorra raised his eyes, gaze empty, before stepping forward. His sonido cracked through the air in an instant—faster than Ichigo could follow.
Before Ichigo could react, Ulquiorra stood before him, expression as still as a corpse. "Not even worth drawing your blade."
The words whispered cold into his ear as Ulquiorra's arm pierced through his chest.
Blood erupted in a crimson spray. Ichigo's eyes widened, his mind blank. He could not comprehend what had happened. He, Kurosaki Ichigo, felled in a single strike.
"ICHIGO!!" Orihime's scream shattered the silence, her voice breaking as her legs gave way beneath her.
Ulquiorra's expression did not flicker. He slowly pulled his arm free, blood dripping from pale fingers. A gaping hole carved straight through Ichigo's chest, an obscene mockery of the Hollow void, bled profusely. Ichigo collapsed, knees hitting stone before he slumped lifelessly forward, face still frozen in disbelief, the resolve in his eyes extinguished.
Ulquiorra turned his gaze toward Orihime, her trembling form crumpled in despair. "You see now," he said indifferently, his tone flat as if reciting truth rather than inflicting cruelty.
Orihime did not answer. Her lips trembled, her body shook violently, and her eyes overflowed with grief. Her mind had shattered, unable to accept what had just unfolded before her.
"Let's go," Ulquiorra said simply. Without another glance at Ichigo's body, he seized Orihime and turned away, leaving the boy's bleeding form sprawled silently on the cold floor of Las Noches, life and death uncertain.
Elsewhere, within the Ninth Palace, Kuchiki Rukia leaned heavily upon Sode no Shirayuki, her shoulders heaving as sweat dripped from her brow. Her body trembled, bruised and battered, every last drop of spiritual power nearly exhausted. Not far away lay the corpse of Espada Number Nine, Aroniero Arruruerie, his twisted mask shattered in death.
Rukia's chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. She had prevailed, but the victory had come at a bitter cost. Her pale face lifted faintly with relief, and she allowed herself to slump limply onto the stone floor, exhaustion pressing her down.
But respite was brief. A new sound disturbed the silence—da, da, da—measured footsteps drawing closer. Rukia's breath hitched. Her body screamed in protest, yet she forced herself upright, knuckles whitening around her Zanpakutō's hilt. Her limbs shook violently, every sense taut with dread.
A figure emerged from the gloom—a dark-skinned, bald man whose presence radiated danger. Rukia's heart tightened. She could feel it instantly; this man's power dwarfed Aroniero's.
"Despicable Shinigami…" His voice oozed contempt, his eyes narrowing as they settled on Aroniero's broken body. "You dared to kill him… Do you know how long it took for him to evolve to that level?"
The Espada's gaze lingered upon his fallen comrade with an expression almost tender. Then he lifted his eyes, and the compassion melted into something far darker. "Poor Aroniero… I, Zommari Rureaux, will avenge you."
In the blink of an eye, his form blurred into sonido. Rukia's pupils shrank. Before she could react, he had already passed her. Pain tore through her body as a burst of blood erupted from her chest.
Her vision swam, and she crumpled heavily to the floor, coughing blood. The sheer speed had eclipsed Aroniero entirely. She could not even follow his movements.
Zommari loomed over her fallen form, expression cold and pitiless, his blade raised in judgment. To him, she was already a corpse.
"In the name of love… please die."
The edge of his Zanpakutō descended toward her brow. Rukia's eyes widened, despair flooding her heart as the shadow of death swallowed her once again.
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