Characters: Ulquiorra.
Pairings: None.
Warnings/Spoilers: Only if you don't know who the Arrancar are.
Timeline: Pre-Hueco Mundo arc.
Author's Note: Given how much of an impact I think Orihime had on Ulquiorra's outlook on life and existence in general, this is definitely pre-Hueco Mundo arc.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
"I am become Death, destroyer of worlds."—J. Robert Oppenheimer, concerning the atomic bomb.
.
There are little deaths that do not concern me. Little deaths that involve a snuffing out on the part of insignificant kerns; I will neither contribute to, cause, notice nor mourn their deaths.
I have no time for such things.
For whatever reason, those around me interpret my unwillingness to slaughter the lower denizens as "mercy". They see this as softness in me, a human trait that they seek to exploit or demean. I am dismissed and underestimated.
They are wrong, and mercy is no quality of mine. Mercy is the downfall of the weak, compassion that which breaks their will to resist the truth, and their humanity will do nothing but hasten their deaths.
The human heart is an abomination, a blot upon existence.
And I will never take something so tainted into myself.
The small lives, those of human, Hollows, and Shinigami, who are inferior and infinitesimal, they are of no concern to me. I am neither pitying nor contemptuous of them. They are, instead, beneath my notice, ants on the edge of a vast abyss.
I will never take the life of such a creature; their blood will only provide black, inky stains on my sword, something that is never to be abided, no matter how much carnal satisfaction it may bring.
I will not lower myself to bring my foot down upon the ants of this life. They will soon enough meet the fates of all living things, and it is not my place to play God with them, in a world where there is no God and instead only those who foolishly aspire to greatness.
Somewhere, there is one who will provide a sufficient reason for me to draw my blade and ignite my bones in a brief phantasm before all will turn to ash.
Somewhere, there is a giant, one who is my equal, my only equal.
No ant will die by my sword. Instead, I wait for the day when my foe will face me, and all of creation will burn in cinders and fire, as we tear it all down around us.