"Shinigami—your name?"
Ulquiorra turned, his pale eyes meeting Shiraha's. His voice carried neither curiosity nor emotion, only cold inquiry. The vast pressure Shiraha had just released was enough to earn Ulquiorra's acknowledgment.
"My name?" Shiraha's smile was faint but sharp. "Kuchiki Shiraha. Please, enlighten me."
"Kuchiki Shiraha… I see." Ulquiorra nodded slightly, drawing his Zanpakutō. "Then come with me."
He lifted into the air, cleaving a rift through the artificial sky of Las Noches with a single swing of his blade, vanishing into the void above.
Beneath the dome of Hueco Mundo's palace, two acts were forbidden—the Cero Oscuras, reserved only for the Espada, and the release of any Espada ranked higher than the Fourth. As the Cuarta Espada, Ulquiorra's release here would bring destruction even Aizen preferred to avoid.
"So, above the dome of Las Noches…" Shiraha's gaze rose toward the torn sky. "That saves me the trouble of explaining."
The words left his lips, and his body vanished in an instant, dissolving into silence through a flash step faster than sight.
"Yes, Gin. Let's go and see for ourselves," Aizen said calmly.
He rose smoothly, following the trail upward, Gin Ichimaru and Kaname Tōsen close behind.
When Ulquiorra emerged upon the outer dome of Las Noches, he paused. The endless wasteland of white sand stretched beneath a hollow, starless sky. The crescent moon hung low, casting a dull glow over towering circular pillars that pierced the darkness. Yet there was no sign of Shiraha.
"Ulquiorra, you're slow."
The voice came from behind him—clear, calm, unhurried.
"What…?" Ulquiorra's pupils narrowed. "Shunpo? No—no Shinigami could move that fast."
His usual composure faltered for an instant. As the Fourth Espada, he was well aware of the limits of a Shinigami's mobility—Shunpo—and of the Arrancar's equivalent, Sonído. Yet Shiraha had arrived earlier, completely undetected.
"Not Shunpo," Shiraha replied with a soft smile. "Just my Zanpakutō's ability."
Ulquiorra's eyes lowered slightly. "Zanpakutō ability…" he murmured, though he said no more.
Far behind them, Aizen and his two lieutenants appeared, observing from a distance.
"Well then, Captain Tōsen," Gin drawled with his usual lazy grin, "how long do you think Ulquiorra can last against Captain Shiraha?"
"We are here to witness Kuchiki Shiraha's Zanpakutō," Tōsen answered evenly. "Victory or defeat is irrelevant."
"Ah, so cold as always," Gin chuckled.
"Enough, Gin," Aizen said quietly, raising a hand. His eyes never left the two combatants above.
"Lord Aizen," Ulquiorra spoke without turning, his tone still respectful. "During this battle—may I release?"
He knew the weight of the opponent before him. Against Shiraha, half-measures meant death.
Aizen's eyes flicked toward him, serene and unreadable. "You have my permission. Proceed."
"Thank you, Lord Aizen." Ulquiorra crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head.
"Returning to the blade already?" Shiraha smiled faintly. "A wise decision."
"Don't you intend to draw your Zanpakutō?" Ulquiorra asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"There's no need for it yet," Shiraha replied. "Show me your release first."
Ulquiorra's silence was the only acknowledgment.
Then, without warning, Shiraha's expression hardened. "Fifty times gravity."
No Reiatsu flared outward—only a crushing force that spread in every direction. The air itself groaned as an invisible weight fell upon the battlefield, covering everything within two hundred thousand meters.
Ulquiorra staggered under the pressure, bones creaking audibly. He flared his spiritual energy to resist, and though he neutralized a large portion of the crushing force, the residual gravity still pressed mercilessly against his body. Cracks spread across his skin. His bones snapped and reknit within seconds.
"High-speed regeneration?" Shiraha's voice held quiet amusement. "As expected of an Espada."
All around them, the land shuddered and collapsed. Under fifty times the pull of gravity, the massive white pillars shattered like glass. Entire structures of Las Noches crumbled into dust.
Even from afar, the three observers felt the weight descend.
Aizen stood unmoved, not a ripple of Reiatsu escaping him. Gin and Tōsen, however, were forced to flare their spiritual pressure just to remain standing. The ground beneath them fractured like ice.
Gin's grin faltered; his usual composure gave way to strain as he found himself immobilized. Tōsen, unable to bear it, crashed to the ground, blood seeping through his uniform as bones cracked under the invisible mountain pressing down on him.
"Ban…" Tōsen gasped, reaching for his Zanpakutō.
"No need, Tōsen," Aizen said, his tone calm but final.
He released a pulse of deep, resonant Reiatsu—thick and crushing in its own right. Instantly, the gravity around his subordinates dissipated, his spiritual power effortlessly nullifying Shiraha's field.
Shiraha turned his gaze back to Ulquiorra, who still stood despite the immense pressure. "Not bad," he said with faint admiration. "Still able to move? Then… how about sixty times?"
The air screamed as the pressure intensified. Sixtyfold gravity fell like an invisible hammer. The ground beneath Ulquiorra split open, and even his regenerative abilities began to fail to keep pace. Bones shattered faster than they could heal.
"Crack… crack… crack…"
The sound echoed through the void like a chorus of breaking glass.
At this rate, even Ulquiorra's body—gifted with high-speed regeneration—would be crushed to pulp.
His head lifted slowly, the faintest shadow of defiance in his hollow eyes.
Then came the whisper that marked his true nature—low, cold, and commanding.
"Block it—Black Wing Demon."
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