"Hahahaha! Quincy… die!!!"
Grimmjow's laughter split the air, wild and savage. His body blurred as he dashed across the battlefield, his movements like those of a white panther unleashed. The speed was so overwhelming that only streaks of white afterimages remained in his wake.
In the blink of an eye, he was behind BG9. His claws flexed, energy pulsing in his hand as he thrust his right palm toward the mechanical Quincy's chest, voice booming with arrogant defiance.
"Gran Rey Cero!!!"
The blue light was blinding, a beam that ripped through the sky like a blade made of pure destruction.
BG9—his body armored in a medieval knight–like iron mask shaped like an axe, his entire form mechanical and unyielding—reacted instantly. Red light flared within his artificial eyes. Metal tubes extended and twisted out from his back, linking together to create a massive, reinforced shield.
The clash came in an instant.
BOOM!
The Gran Rey Cero slammed against the shield, exploding in a storm of pressure and light. Sparks scattered, the air itself shuddered. BG9's armored frame staggered back under the weight of the impact, heavy steps shaking the ground.
But when the smoke cleared, he stood unharmed. Not a dent, not a scratch.
Slowly, his head turned toward Grimmjow, the mechanical creak echoing like grinding metal. His voice came out flat, robotic, devoid of any emotion.
"Arrancar of the Menos line… you are mistaken. From the beginning, I possessed no life. Therefore, for me… there is no such thing as death."
BG9's voice carried the cold finality of a machine. Unlike other Sternritter, his body was almost entirely mechanical. His defense was legendary, his physical durability the strongest among the Quincy.
As he spoke, new weapons activated. Dozens of missile pods opened beneath his cloak, launching a storm of projectiles. Each missile streaked forward with a flaming tail, spiritual power compressed within their steel frames until they glowed ominously.
The barrage split the air, descending upon Grimmjow and Neliel like a swarm of fiery birds.
"Tch… what a pain."
From a distance, Coyote Starrk watched, scratching lazily at his hair. His expression was weary, as though the entire scene were little more than a nuisance. But his spiritual pressure spiked sharply, shaking the air as twin pistols materialized in his hands. His tired eyes narrowed at the raining missiles.
"…Better to finish this quickly. Can't say I'm fond of you Quincies either."
He leveled the barrels at the sky.
"Cero Metralleta!"
With a pull of the triggers, a flood of energy erupted. In an instant, thousands of Ceros fired in rapid succession, the sky alight with blue beams of destruction.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The barrage tore through the air, colliding with the incoming missiles. Explosions erupted in waves, one after another, until the heavens themselves seemed to blaze. Red fire bloomed across the sky like a field of burning flowers, each detonation scattering shards of flame.
The combined roar of the detonations thundered like a storm.
BG9's glowing eyes flickered. He hesitated, his composure cracking. "Impossible…! He fired more Ceros than I had missiles…?"
For the first time, panic flashed across his mechanical voice. Without delay, he activated his Schrift, attempting to retreat. A Quincy cross sigil glowed brightly, forming above him, his ability primed to carry him out of danger.
But he was already too late.
In a blur of motion, Grimmjow appeared before him, predatory and unrelenting. His lips curled into a feral grin, eyes blazing with challenge as he lifted the massive, two-meter claws of his Resurrección.
"If you've got the guts—try blocking this!!!"
The claws descended in a deadly arc.
At the same moment, Neliel Tu Oderschvank moved in from the flank. Regal even in her transformed, half-antelope form, her long lake-green hair trailed like a banner of war. Her expression was icy, her aura commanding as she raised her heavy, double-headed spear.
"Die—Emerald Shooter!!!"
The spear whirled with a surge of purple reiatsu, spinning at incredible speed before launching forward with devastating force.
Caught between Grimmjow's claws and Neliel's spear, BG9's mask-like face twisted. Fear—something even a machine could not escape—flared in his artificial eyes. He desperately tried to accelerate the activation of his Vollständig, but his body lagged behind.
He was too slow.
SLASH!!!
Grimmjow's blue claws carved across him like blades through paper. Sparks erupted as steel tore apart, his armored plating shredded open in five deep gashes that nearly split his frame.
And then—
SHUUNK!
Neliel's spear pierced through the air, its light-red tip striking with pinpoint accuracy. The weapon tore straight through his chest, driving through his heart.
"Guhhh—!!"
The mechanical Quincy's voice glitched and broke, his frame thrown backward violently. The impact sent him crashing through stone, explosions following in his wake.
The battlefield shook again.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The sound of destruction echoed endlessly, as though the air itself refused to let the battle rest. Fire and light blazed around the mechanical Sternritter's collapsing body, while Grimmjow and Neliel stood unwavering, their combined might overwhelming even the most durable Quincy machine.
BG9's metallic body was hurled hundreds of meters away before it finally stopped. His figure crashed against a wall, the force embedding him deep into the stone. Neliel's double-headed spear pinned him there like a grotesque trophy.
No blood spilled—there was none to give—but his mechanical frame had already been torn apart. Sparks crackled across the shattered plating, gears and wires fell with a constant clatter, the sound of steel breaking apart.
"Eh? Still alive?"
Grimmjow's sharp grin widened, his eyes narrowing with defiant amusement. To a Menos, the measure of life was never the shape of flesh or steel—it was reiatsu. And BG9's spirit energy, faint as it was, still lingered.
The machine lifted his head weakly, his artificial eyes glowing with erratic red light. He stared at Grimmjow, who strode toward him with predator's steps. For the first time, true panic filled his distorted voice.
"Wait! Don't kill me! Capture me instead! I can be used… for an exchange… our empire may trade prisoners—"
"Pathetic."
Grimmjow's sneer cut him off. His voice dripped with scorn as he raised his claw.
"Too damn pathetic, Quincy."
With a single swipe, the Panther King's claws carved through what little remained of BG9's steel frame. Metal screeched, sparks burst, and the mechanical Quincy was torn apart completely, reduced to scattered fragments.
From a distance, the other Sternritter fell into uneasy silence. Two of their comrades—Aced Nott and BG9—dead in quick succession. Their deaths had come brutally, and yet the Arrancar of Hueco Mundo stood without a single injury among them.
The balance of power was suddenly, terrifyingly clear.
"…Hueco Mundo… it's beyond what I imagined."
The voice belonged to Meninas McAllon, the pink-haired Sternritter girl. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced with tight seriousness as she assessed the overwhelming force before her.
"This is going to be trouble," muttered Pepe Waccabrada, the obese Sternritter with skin as dark as night. His tone carried none of its usual arrogance. "Let's regroup. We need the Soul Reapers' zanpakutō spirits… and the rest of the Sternritter."
The others nodded quickly. None dared argue. Alone, they had no chance; even together, the battle was spiraling out of control. They turned and began their retreat, falling back into the distance.
As they fled, Hyōrinmaru's manifested form stood watching. His expression remained indifferent, but his body shimmered with power. In the next instant, his figure shifted completely.
Wings spread wide as his human form dissolved, his true body revealed: a massive dragon sculpted from ice itself. The creature roared, wings beating as frost and snow whipped into the air.
This was Hyōrinmaru's true nature. Not a man, but a dragon of winter.
"Wait—Hyōrinmaru!"
Hitsugaya Tōshirō's eyes widened in shock. He leapt forward, trying to halt his zanpakutō spirit. But Hyōrinmaru's wings flapped once, and the sky darkened beneath a storm of snow. A blizzard blanketed the air, cutting Tōshirō off from his own spirit.
The boy captain clenched his teeth, frustration spilling from his lips.
"Damn it…!"
Never before had he considered that his own zanpakutō spirit could be so unruly, so beyond his command. Now he could do nothing but watch as the frost dragon climbed higher into the storm-filled sky.
Yet as Hyōrinmaru soared upward, a calm, cold voice echoed from below.
"Suiton: Water Dragon Bullet."
Tier Harribel stood firm, her gaze unflinching. She had not even drawn her zanpakutō. Her hands formed precise seals, her lips parting to exhale a torrent of water. From her mouth erupted a massive surge that coiled and shaped itself into a dragon of water, its serpentine body gleaming as it rushed upward.
The water dragon met the ice dragon in midair, wrapping tightly around Hyōrinmaru's body. With a crash like waves against cliffs, the two colossal forms collided, the water dragging the ice down from the sky.
Harribel's crimson lips curved faintly in satisfaction.
"The Suiton techniques taught to me by Qiye… they suit me perfectly."
Her zanpakutō's ability was already tied to water. In her Resurrección, she commanded it in even greater volumes. With that affinity, ninjutsu of the Water Style meshed seamlessly with her power, magnifying her abilities far beyond the norm.
Her water dragon carried ten times the strength of anything the other Arrancar could summon.
But Hyōrinmaru was not so easily bound.
"ROOOOAR!!!"
The dragon of ice shrieked, an earsplitting cry of winter's wrath. Its body pulsed with killing cold, waves of frost bursting outward. In an instant, the water binding it froze solid, shattered, and broke apart.
The ice dragon ripped itself free, wings spreading once more as it prepared to ascend.
But Harribel was already above it.
In a flash of sonido, she appeared in the air, blade drawn. Her voice was low, commanding, edged like steel.
"Rule him, Queen of the Sea!"
The words resounded like a decree.
At once, torrents of water exploded from her body, a flood so immense it roared louder than thunder. The deluge swallowed the battlefield in seconds. Entire divisions of Seireitei were drowned beneath the crashing wave.
What was once the Sixth Division vanished, replaced by a vast ocean conjured at Harribel's command.
The Queen of the Sea had claimed her throne.
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