Thank you, Tsari Torment for all the wonderful artwork.
This story is for you.
His hands were turning to dust.
It were over.
He, the Fourth Espada had lost.
The moon in the sky over head stared mournfully down at him.
The woman was crying, her hand reached out to him, as in an attempt to correct an error.
A fatal one at that.
Uquiorra did not wish for life again. His time had come and he would soon join the one he loved. Deep down in his mind, for he said so himself. He had no heart.
But was that not true for all hollows?
No… Ulquiorra mused. It is not. For there was one… one so hidden away, under the depths of chaos and gleeful joy, for said destruction of course. I would never put him above such emotions. However, he did have a heart. One which ached for the loss of his Fracciones, one which allowed me to hold him close. And one which I…
His thoughts wandered to the left towards the tower, the distant sound of footsteps sliding through the sand, headed somewhere.
The color of blue in the white sands met his eyes.
Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra. He thought, staring at the distant green eyes, the body they belonged to, sifting away. I am sorry.
Please. Ulquiorra begged, seeing the emotions from afar. He knew in that moment, he would live on. Do not be. It is as it were meant to be.
I understand. With that, a hood were slipped over his head and the panther melted away into the sands along with the one he loved.