Inside Las Noches, the air felt… wrong.
Barraggan stared daggers at Cole. Black reiatsu poured off the skeletal emperor like the hush at doomsday, spreading outward. Anything that touched that darkness seemed to skip a million years in an instant—everything arrived at its end, and fell into silence.
Several seconds ticked by before Apacci couldn't help whispering to Tier Harribel, "Big sis… why didn't Lord Barraggan rot that guy's zanpakuto? Doesn't he have that power?"
A hundred-plus years ago, Barraggan had met Tier Harribel and the other three—and tried to force their fealty. Knowing all too well his brutal rule (his Hollow underlings often had to kill each other just to amuse him), Harribel refused outright. They fought. The result was no surprise: she was crushed and only just escaped with her life.
Back then Barraggan moved like a reaper of endings; any weapon that touched him decayed and died. Yet just now, Cole's zanpakuto had met him head-on—and showed no sign of rotting.
Beside Apacci, the white-snake beauty Sung-Sun hid her smile behind a draping sleeve. "Maybe his zanpakuto is special—like it can ignore aging…"
"No." Tier Harribel cut her off, eyes narrowing on Cole. "He found Barraggan's weak point."
"Weak point?!" The three Fracción gaped at Barraggan. "He actually has a weak point?!"
Even if he was no longer Hueco Mundo's king, to all Arrancar he was still the king. Domineering. Dread. Majesty. His death factor—aging—was one of the most unanswerable powers among the Espada.
"Of course he has a weak point," Harribel said evenly. "Otherwise why is he Segunda?"
Sung-Sun couldn't resist: "Then… what is it?"
Harribel thought for a beat, then pointed at the golden staff in Cole's hand. "That staff is sheathed in a staggering density of reiatsu. The instant it touches Barraggan, that pressure blocks the activation of aging."
The three turned, dawning realization in their eyes. "So that's it…"
"Didn't think Lord Barraggan's weak point was so obvious…"
"Wait, that's not right…" Sung-Sun frowned at Harribel. "You fought him a hundred and fifty years ago. Your reiatsu shield didn't help then."
The other two nodded. Armoring your body and weapon with reiatsu was basic Hollow survival. Could Barraggan really have such a simple "weakness"?
"Normal reiatsu won't cut it," Harribel said quietly, gaze tightening on Cole. "Your pressure must exceed Barraggan's—vastly. Only then can you oppose the aging effect for brief windows."
Back then, she simply hadn't matched Barraggan's power. She'd nearly been reduced to ash. For years she'd wondered how Aizen and Starrk had beaten him. After today, she could guess: Aizen and Starrk wrapped overwhelming reiatsu around their weapons like a membrane and, in those brief moments, wounded Barraggan badly. Once injured, his ability was effectively crippled.
Apacci and Mila Rose traded looks full of black lines. Sung-Sun sighed. "That's not a 'weak point'—who in Hueco Mundo dares claim their reiatsu surpasses Lord Barraggan's?"
The others nodded despite themselves. Harribel didn't answer, but her heart climbed into her throat. If Cole could casually overwhelm Barraggan… then at minimum, he stood on Starrk's tier.
"Aizen… Starrk… Cole…"
Barraggan muttered, killing intent boiling up. A century of suppressed rancor ignited at once. "Aizen!!!"
With a roar, blue fire blazed in his sockets. He yanked the chain on his scythe-axe and hewed at Cole with everything he had.
Cole raised an eyebrow, set his hands on the golden staff, and met the blow head-on.
Two lights flashed midair—gold and black. But gold outshone black; at impact, the black radiance was forced back inch by inch.
"AAAHHH!"
Barraggan raged, but even straining his all, he could not stem the cataclysm pouring off that staff. With a sharp crack, a fissure skittered down the edge of the black scythe-axe.
Barraggan's face changed. He could no longer bear that mountain-crushing force. His body went flying again.
"Rumble—! Rumble—! Rumble—!"
Las Noches split open as Barraggan blasted through hall after hall, punching open passage after passage.
Cole planted the golden staff and sighed. "Seriously… you're screaming Aizen's name, so go settle it with Aizen. Why are you throwing your life at me?"
Barraggan, predictably, didn't answer.
Cole didn't wait for one. He turned to the two girls. "Orihime, Tatsuki, you—"
A flicker of frost crossed his eyes. He stamped forward, slicing the distance to the girls' backs in a single stride.
Boom!
A pink cero detonated in Cole's palm. The shockwave crushed into nothing inside his hand. He shook the soot from his fingers and looked toward the source, voice flat with cold.
"Attacking the weak… that's very Hollow of you."
He had barely spoken when his pupils pinched. His face went green as he stared at the Arrancar who'd fired.
"YOU BASTARD."
The shooter was Espada No. 8, Szayelaporro Granz—the "madness" aspect of death. The pathological scientist stood on a pillar, hips cocked, watching with bright, unhealthy interest. A long syringe glinted in his hand. He smiled at Orihime and Tatsuki. "You seem to care a great deal about those two women."
Cole didn't take the bait. He stared at Szayelaporro like a dead man, fists clenching. "You bastard… where exactly did you fire that cero from?"
Every upper-class Hollow could use Cero (Hollow Flash), but each had one body point where it was strongest: Cole's index finger; Kurosaki Ichigo's horn; Starrk's chest; Tier Harribel's shark-gill blade…
And this No. 8…
Szayel blinked, then burst out laughing. He jerked his hips a few times. "See? Humans are a lower race—you even fuss over biological details. No wonder you're our food."
As he spoke, a pink radiance kindled three inches below his waist. With a shrill whine, another pink cero lanced for the girls.
Cole's first instinct was to pinch it out again. Realizing where it had launched from, his face went purple. He snapped out his index finger; his voice turned black-ice.
"I'm going to cut you into eight pieces."
Shoom!
A black-red Cero roared forth, pulverizing the pink beam and driving on toward Szayelaporro.
Szayel's face finally changed. He ground his hips and spat another beam. "Cero Oscuras (King's Hollow Flash)!"
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Three successive detonations—each pink blast swallowed whole by the black-red.
Staring at the oncoming annihilation, cold sweat broke across Szayelaporro's brow. He bellowed at the assembled Arrancar, panic stripping his voice raw. "What are you idiots gawking at?! Attack those two women! Now!"
He had finally sniffed out Cole's "weakness." And these useless comrades were just standing there? What were they waiting for—him to beat this monster?
That lit a fire. Around the hall, Arrancar gathered reiatsu into multicolored Ceros and leveled them at the girls.
At the same instant—
Boom!
Szayelaporro failed to dodge. The black-red Cero consumed him—far more than "eight pieces." He burst into shrapnel, a storm of meat and bone.
Cole gave him a single glance and let it go. His gaze locked on the countless Ceros brewing in the distance. Frost pooled in his eyes.
"Grow."
The golden staff obeyed.
Taller. Taller.
Thicker. Thicker.
In a breath, it became a golden pillar of heaven.
All around, the Hollows froze, mouths agape. None of them believed their Ceros could bore through that pillar. Cole didn't freeze. One light touch of his finger set the pillar tipping.
That sky-weighted column fell, dragging a world of wind with it, as if the firmament itself were collapsing—apocalypse made real.
A dozen Arrancar in Resurrección broke out in cold sweat. The gale from the fall alone was enough to terrify them. They didn't dare imagine the pillar's true weight. If that hit them, there wouldn't be a bone shard left.
In the next heartbeat, every Hollow turned and ran. If they could have sprouted two more legs, they would have.
BOOM!!!
A whole wing of Las Noches pancaked under the celestial pillar. The floor-tiles punched down into the white desert; sand geysered outward in a tidal bore of alabaster.
And only then did the shock front truly arrive. A sandstorm like a reversed sea wind slammed through Las Noches. Arrancar staggered, blown end over end. Weaker Gillians and small fry simply vanished into the storm.
The raging Cole wasn't satisfied. He seized the base of the golden column with both hands and roared, whirling it up.
"You wanted to hurt Tatsuki and Orihime?"
"Trash!"
"Come on, then!!!"
Thunder pealed without pause. Like a pile-driver from the gods, the gold pillar hammered the earth three times a second, making all Las Noches tremble. The rough-hewn, shadowed grandeur of one side of the fortress simply… ceased, blasted back into the endless white sands of death.
The Arrancar had it worst. Whether they tried to flee or burrow, they were gophers before a farmer's spade—smashed into the dunes by the golden column. Many had their masks shattered; the world reeled; heads rang like struck bells. Crawl out—and another blow would drive them back under. If not for the depth of the sand bleeding off the force, skulls would have popped like bubbles in an instant.
Far off, Orihime and Tatsuki clasped their hands to their mouths, eyes wide at Cole's rampage.
One man, against an army of monsters—and they fled squealing.
So this was Cole's strength?
Orihime's smile bloomed. She tugged Tatsuki's sleeve, delighted. "See? I told you Cole-kun is amazing. Now that he's here for you, we'll get home safe!"
Tatsuki nodded dumbly, shock beyond words. The boy from the next desk… was terrifying. She was still practicing karate—he was fighting kaiju, saving the world. And he'd come because she was in danger. He'd gotten this angry… because she'd almost been hurt?
Color rose to her cheeks. She pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh no… my heart's going so fast…"
She wasn't the only one.
In a dark corner, a dying Adjuchas stared hopelessly up at the sky. From its torn belly, a hand ripped free—then the other, then a pink head, a torso, and finally a whole body crawled out.
Szayelaporro Granz—the one blasted apart earlier—panted softly, looking from the golden pillar pounding the earth, to the collapsing fortress, to the chorus of screams from his fellows. Sweat beaded his brow. He pressed a hand to his chest; something hammered in there like mad.
He withdrew his hand and muttered, "Overkill… isn't this way, way too much?! Is that human Shinigami actually human? He's scarier than those freaks in Seireitei. And where are Starrk, Aizen, Gin, Tosen, Grimmjow… why haven't any of them shown their faces?"
He grumbled under his breath for minutes before the pressure eased. He didn't dare aim at Cole again. He'd only "rebirthed" into the Adjuchas corpse under his feet—if he died now, it would truly be over. Compressing his reiatsu to a pinprick, he crept away.
After about two minutes, something felt wrong. Sweat trickled down his temple. He scanned around—nothing. Slowly, Szayelaporro lifted his eyes.
And saw immeasurable golden light coming down.
(End of Chapter)
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