Ulquiorra didn't remember being human. Of being a Gillian he remembered little, of being a hollow he remembered less. Memories were worth very little. To dwell on them meant death. To degenerate back to what he had been. It meant to lose everything, and be nothing. Mere hollows were trash that would eventually be consumed by the strong.
Ulquiorra was not trash. What he knew was that is existence was a bloodbath. Like every hollow. To live you had to kill. It wasn't a choice. Instinct played a great part of it at first. He had desired the souls of humans, and of hollows. His awareness had expanded. He realized he had to kill, to eat, so that he could continue on. So he could grow.
He could feel the power, his body strengthening as he tore into the flesh of his victim. It was an Adjuchas today. Like him. Even if he decided to let her go, to not kill her, she was worthless now. Her evolution had stopped. He had taken the possibility of growth from her. She could only exist or disappear.
"Life is…meaningless" he said. He watched her with somber eyes, killing her. Eating her. At one point he had been like this Adjuchas. He had been on the weaker side of the rank. He had hid from those stronger than him. Now some hid from him. It was satisfying. It meant they could tell he was more powerful than them like he could tell some were stronger than him.
Ulquiorra looked up slowly. There was a group of Adjuchas and Gillian coming closer. He didn't travel in a pack like some, nor had he settled in with a colony. He was alone. He fought for himself and protected himself. He looked up at the moon. Some other time. He turned, moving slowly away from the group.