The Reflection of Hueco Mundo Arc
Prologue
The wind moaned. Its faint rhythm echoed across the shattered ruins of Las Noches. The patter of sand against marble was omnipresent. The moon, waning an empty smile, illuminated the former desert palace. It was a sad sight. What could have been beautiful architecture was bathed in a desolate shadow. By comparison all of the sky looked so bright. Perhaps the stars teased the lonely fortress? They were infinite in number, while Las Noches stood alone; a mockery of grandeur when compared to the night sky. It was a spec really. A tiny grain of sand within the desert, just another blip within the universe. The moon and the stars knew. To them, looking down upon the fortress must have been a comical sight. It was empty and fragile. So were the creatures that dwelled there.
Within such a place, life was sparse. The few Hollows that remained after the fall of Las Noches had, like the former citadel, quietly faded away. Only traces of the past remained. Countless rooms, scrawled with the names of their now anonymous owners sat empty and began to fill with dust. There was a jarring heaviness that accompanied the vast absence of the lonely bastion. Time was lost here. In fact, time seemed as if it would never move again within this place. It had become too heavy, unable to flow onward. In a way, the Hollows that had survived the collapse of Las Noches were the same. They were immortal creatures, clinging onto the unobtainable goal of regaining their humanity, and were doomed to never progress in time. They either were or they ceased to be. They must toil to maintain their humanity forever.
In that respect, all of Hueco Mundo seemed so disenchanting. A vast desert, where Hollows must consume one another in order to maintain their sense of self. One had no purpose other than that. It was pitiful. Pathetic really. Everything seemed so helpless, just like this crumbling fortress. It and everything within it were stranded in the endless desert that was time. The moon and the stars would look down with a cruel gaze for eternity. The wind would whisper its inaudible words forever. The sand would rise and fall endlessly. This place would never change and neither would Grimmjow.
Grimmjow's cold eyes gleaned within the shadows of Las Noches. Their vacancy mirrored an emptiness that perturbed him like never before. He had never felt this way. It was like defeat, but… worse. There was no vengeance or rage, or even pain. There was only emptiness. The Hollow had no direction, nor did he think he could truly find it. Everything seemed so pointless now. He hated that. His journey had amounted to nothing. He had amounted to nothing. It was almost funny. Grimmjow's eyes gained a tinge of focus. What was he now? Who was he now? He had once looked at the moon as if it were his prey, but now he looked at it in desperation. Well? Who was he? He couldn't help but grin. He had relished killing and battle, but even that could not fill the emptiness within him. So what would?
The moon reflected flashes of the past back into his eyes. Swords and blood. A girl. They had come to save her. Friends. Would anyone save him? The thought of Nnoitra's blade striking him. He saw the blade pouncing down upon him, but something had stopped it. Another blade. Another face. His face. Anger and resentment churned within Grimmjow. What was this? He did not know. He was like this desolate place. Lost. Eyes still fixed on the moon, he reached his hand up towards it.
"Just out of my reach…" the Arrancar muttered in a monotonic drawl. "Everything I wanted always was."
A blackness started to settle into his mind. His memories all began to turn dark. He could not remember his battles, his enemies or even his victories. All that was left was the sky above him. It was so bright and expansive that it almost hurt.
"I…" he started. "I wish I could have. That I could have…"
His eyes returned to their vacant state. His hand fell back to his side. He was left in the shadow of Las Noches.