"Is that the best you've got, you limp-wristed pretty boy?"
***************************************************************
Ulquiorra gazed at the devastation created by his most powerful cero. A great gash had been torn into the side of the hill, and dust and smoke from incinerated trees mostly hid the view.
One of Aizen's sources had reported that, with his typical tendency towards the unexpected, Urahara had apparently hired a Shinigami from abroad to help Soul Society fight the Espada. (Secretly, of course: Yamamoto would consider hiring foreign mercenaries an outrageous insult to the honor of Soul Society).
So, Aizen had sent him to the living world, to test the strength of this gaijin soul reaper. He had not taken long to find him, standing on a hill overlooking Karakura town: his spiritual energy was like a dark cloud overlooking the town.
At first he had been unimpressed with the elderly, scarred man with the old-fashioned western outfit. But his opponent had merely shrugged off blows that would have crushed most Arrancar - Ulquiorra had been unable to even knock off his silly hat.
And he was the one supposed to make the superior, mocking remarks, damn it.
Therefore, a point-blank, full-power cero. Something to wipe that cold sneer off his face.
Was that something moving in the smoke?
An outline formed, grew more solid.
He still hadn't been able to budge the hat.
Ulquiorra, feeling a rather unfamiliar sense of unease, grasped his blade and prepared to unleash his zanpakuto.
The foreign death god grinned, coldly and with no real humor. His hands hovered over the butts of the guns at his belt.
"Not enough gun," spat the Saint of Killers.
(Yes, I know that Bleach and Preacher realities aren't really compatible. But the, shall we say, insularity of Tite Kubo's afterlife annoys me a bit)
(And why the heck all the Spanish-flavored names? Did the Hollows move into and refurbish an old Mexican hell or something?)