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"Is this the intruder?"
Ruby's voice carried disdain, her smile curling with arrogance as her eyes, cold and murderous, swept across the Shinigami before her. "Weaker than I thought. What a disappointment." The conceited words fell into silence without stirring a reaction.
Grimmjow, however, looked grim, his gaze fixed on Moyu at the forefront, thoughts roiling. His mind replayed battles past, the memory of Moyu's overwhelming strength pressing down like a weight. That crushing power had left him with no confidence of victory now.
Zommari stood unmoved, expression serene, hands folded before him, eyes lowered in composure. Aroniero, by contrast, shifted uncomfortably beneath the sunlight, the angles of his grotesque form casting long shadows as his uncovered face twisted in disgust.
Moyu's eyes did not linger on the familiar figures. His focus fixed instead on the unfamiliar one standing behind them, a towering presence over three meters high, more exaggerated even than Yammy's hulking bulk. Muscles knotted beneath the white Espada uniform, veins bulged against exposed flesh, and above the ferocious face sat a massive skull-mask, fused into his skull like a grotesque crown. It was a body built only to radiate violence.
The number carved upon the giant's forehead revealed the truth. Espada—Number Nine.
Understanding flickered in Moyu's eyes. The others were not the true threat; Aizen's hidden card rested in this new Espada.
"Bahamut, isn't it?" Grimmjow muttered, face tight. "If memory serves, command of this fight falls to you, doesn't it?" His gaze shifted to the monstrous figure looming like a mountain of meat.
Bahamut's eyes, frigid and merciless, met his. Slowly, the giant nodded. "Lord Aizen has already given his orders."
The reply startled Grimmjow, but before he could speak again, Bahamut moved forward, his massive form pushing through Zommari and Ruby without effort. Ruby bristled at the insult, rage burning hot, but when he tried to resist with Reiatsu, he realized with shock he could not shift Bahamut an inch. Strength crushed him into silence as the brute passed by.
Those eyes swept across the Shinigami like a predator surveying prey. "Seven," Bahamut rumbled, almost to himself. "Just right."
Ruby hissed in frustration. "Another lunatic! For Aizen-sama to entrust command to this… ridiculous!" His anger snapped into silence as Bahamut suddenly raised both hands high, eyes alight with fanatic zeal.
"Rise, Behemoth!"
The desert roared in answer. A deafening tremor split the earth, gray Reiatsu flooding from Bahamut's body, wild and violent like a surging river. His flesh began to twist, skin splitting as muscle writhed. The skull-mask on his head expanded downward, consuming his entire face. His body pulsed with grotesque motion, hair sprouting across warped flesh until his form was a nightmare—half-man, half-beast, the very embodiment of the word inscribed in his blade's release.
Yet it was only the beginning.
The ground itself convulsed. The roar magnified, splitting the desert floor into fissures as Bahamut's dark red eyes blazed with madness. Moyu's gaze sharpened. With a thought, he released his full Reiatsu.
Boom.
The force crashed down like heaven's weight. Bahamut's raised arms buckled, his massive frame driven to the ground with a thunderous crack. Bones snapped audibly beneath the crushing pressure, dust and sand exploding into the air.
The Espada flinched. They recognized it instantly. This was Reiatsu alone. No blade, no Kidō, no release—just spiritual pressure forcing a mountain of flesh into submission. The implications darkened their expressions. If his Reiatsu alone bore such power, what would a full release bring?
Ruby's pride faltered, his curse muttered under his breath. "Damn bastard… this just got dangerous." His hand slid to his Zanpakutō, Reiatsu rising cautiously, though his eyes betrayed unease.
Moyu did not even look at him.
"Pointless," he said flatly.
On the ground, Bahamut's guttural voice rumbled, low and resonant, like a tolling bell. "When I release my blade… I cannot be stopped."
The words stilled the air. Recognition dawned on the Shinigami, grim realization passing between them. Moyu's eyes narrowed, watching intently.
Then the desert convulsed. A thunderous roar tore through Hueco Mundo as the earth surged upward, the ground splitting into jagged towers. The sky itself fractured, rifts opening across the dome of Hueco Mundo. From those wounds of heaven, golden light streamed down, flooding the battlefield.
Moyu pressed Reiatsu against the ground beneath his feet, yet nothing yielded. Unohana's eyes widened, her composure faltering as recognition struck.
"This is…" Her voice broke softly, urgent. "Negación?!"
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