Thank you for the following grammarian, consultant, beta reader and critic: BloodyCrystal, sandrilenefatoren2, mysticLegend11, Orange Headphones
Some terminology reminders abridged from Bleach wiki before you start reading chapter two:
Caja Negación (反膜の匪 (カハ・ネガシオン), kaha negashion; Spanish for "Negation Box", Japanese for "Anti-Membrane of Negation") is a variant of the Gillian-exclusive ability Negación used to punish Arrancar subordinates by trapping them eternally in an alternate dimension. However, should the Caja Negación be used on an Espada, the Espada will eventually break out of the alternate dimension (usually within a few hours), due to their large amount of Reiatsu.
Cero (虚閃 (セロ), sero; Spanish for "Zero", Japanese for "Hollow Flash", "Doom Blast" in the Viz translation): Like all other Hollows, they can use this blast technique. The Espada user fires a laser blast of great, concentrated destruction.
Bala (虚弾 （バラ）, bara; Spanish for "Bullet", Japanese for "Hollow Bullet") is an Arrancar alternative to the Cero. The technique hardens the user's spiritual pressure and fires it like a bullet from their fist. Though somewhat weaker than a Cero blast, it moves about twenty times much faster than a Cero and can be fired at a much higher rate.
Gran Rey Cero (王虚の閃光 (グラン・レイ・セロ), guran rei sero; Spanish for "Grand King Zero", Japanese for "Royal Hollow Flash") is a particular, very strong Cero. To perform this potent variation of the Cero, the Arrancar first draws blood from the Cero-generating appendage using his or her Zanpakutō, then charges the Cero while mixing the blood with it. The result is a Cero with a much greater attack power and speed, as well as a change of color unique to the Espada.
Garganta (黒腔 （ガルガンタ）, garuganta; Spanish for "Throat", Japanese for "Black Cavity") is how Arrancar move to and from Hueco Mundo. It literally tears open the dimensional fabric separating the worlds, revealing a tunnel of whirling, torrential energy that must be focused and solidified to create a discernible pathway.
Hierro (鋼皮 （イエロ）, iero; Spanish for "Iron", Japanese for "Steel Skin") refers to the hardened skin of the Arrancar, which is a result of their compressed spiritual power. While their skin is strong enough to block even released Zanpakutō bare-handed, it is by no means impenetrable. Stronger Arrancar have proportionally stronger skin. Nnoitra Jiruga claimed his Hierro is toughest amongst the Espada; being of higher rank than Nnoitra, Ulquiorra's Hierro appears to be much tougher.
Pesquisa (探査回路 （ペスキス）, pesukisa; Spanish for "Inquiry", Japanese for "Probe Circuit") is the Arrancar equivalent of the Shinigami ability to sense Spiritual Pressure. It functions similar to a sonar. Using Pesquisa requires most Espada to enter a meditative state; however, Nnoitra has a variation of this technique that involves placing his fingers to the ground to determine an opponent's approximate location as well as the amount of Spiritual Pressure an opponent has.
Sonído (響転 （ソニード）, sonīdo; Spanish for "Sound", Japanese for "Sound Ceremony") is the Arrancar equivalent of the Shinigami Flash Steps and the Quincy Hirenkyaku; it allows the user to travel at incredibly high speeds for short distances. Use of Sonído is punctuated by a brief static sound, in contrast to the "swish" sound used for Flash Steps.
CHAPTER II
The Midnight Duels
It was nearly midnight when the multi-billionaire and his chauffeur reached the cemetery. From the dark nebulous sky above lightning struck every now and then. The rain tumbled down onto the murky gravestones. The door of the Bugatti Veyron–Ulquiorra's Rolls Royce Phantom limousine was still undergoing maintenance−opened and Gotham Mundo's most affluent bachelor stepped out onto the drenched sepulchral grass. The driver stood next to the parked car, savoring the wetness of the rain on his hair and clothes with arms folded across his chest as he waited for his employer.
While absorbing the souls of the recently dead−the moment they had arrived, he had felt the power hanging in the air like thick mist, and took it in with instinctive hunger−Ulquiorra sensed an enormous amount of the power Grimmjow had called reiatsu approaching. His driver had felt it too and unfolded his arms and shifted his weight into a fighting stance, preparing for whatever came.
The source of the reiatsu they had detected arrived in a matter of minutes: a tall, lean figure carrying a pair of gigantic axes shaped like crescent moons.
"So, you're the fucking shithead who did my pal in!" snarled the stranger, black hair sliding over the back of his neck.
Lightning struck from the sky, illuminating the stranger's face as thunder rolled in its wake. Ulquiorra squinted. Lately, pictures of this eye-patch wearing man covered the front page of nearly every newspaper−he was a serial rapist and killer who called himself "The Ripper." Gotham's richest bachelor didn't remember every single criminal in the newspaper, but this particular one had caught his interest due to the number five tattoo on his tongue.
The Ripper, whose hair was as black as a raven, continued while staring at Ulquiorra's incompletely healed state, "No maggot-ass human could kill Szayel; he's no weakling. His murderer must be another Arrancar and, that bitchfuck manwhore must be suffering from battle wounds and currently in need of spiritual replenishment."
Szayel? Is dat da name of da guy who wounded Ulquiorra? Grimmjow grimaced.
The Ripper is that mad scientist's friend? Ulquiorra wondered briefly. As of late, a pink-haired Arrancar named Szayel Apolo Grantz−more publically known as Professor Moth−had been crazy enough to blow up several public buildings and had given Batman a hard time with his Carbon Copy and bone rupturing Voodoo Doll during their fight earlier that evening.
Ulquiorra pointed his index finger at the towering figure before him. However, when the narrow green blast of his Cero hit the target, The Ripper did not budge, nor was he scathed.
Instead, The Ripper sneered triumphantly, "How's that, son of a bitch? No one has ever defeated my Hierro."
"So far," Ulquiorra added calmly, recognizing the term. Iron skin.
Rather than attacking using a full blast Cero, Ulquiorra thought he'd better test using multiple Bala −the weaker, yet speedier, form he used for lesser attacks−to find The Ripper's weak point, probing every possibility. Before he accomplished his goal, however, his butler interfered. Without any explanation, the butler pushed his employer to the side, a Cero building in his hands. Blinding beams burst out from his palm, swifter than wind and hotter than fire.
"Grimmjow, there's no need for you to take part."
But the blue-haired butler disobeyed his master. "Too bad; a dead employer'll give me no salary! You'd better continue your Gonzui while I get ridda dis dirt!"
Before Ulquiora could open his mouth to ask, Grimmjow quickly explained his terminology. "Gonzui is wha' it's called when an Arrancar sucks as many souls as possible to increase his or 'er size, power, force, an' spiritual energy. S'also used to heal injuries."
Ulquiorra stood in silence. His butler had his own method of protecting him while he recuperated from the wounds Szayel had inflicted.
"Are you frightened now, scumbag?" The Ripper taunted Ulquiorra, drawling on the last word.
Gotham's richest bachelor did not answer, but his butler did, while firing another Cero, "As if he needed to get involved wi'h a butt-muncher like you!"
"You dumbshit fag!" Agitated, The Ripper launched another attack, his strings of Bala flaring against the darkness of the night. The raven-haired Arrancar advanced, and his blue-haired opponent eluded, their battle like a dance of death to the tune of the crows cawing in the sky. The heavy rain slowed to a drizzle.
Grimmjow reeled, spinning his feet and gyrating his body, emitting blue Cero lights from his palms and thrusting them at his opponent's heart. His opponent's much-prided Hierro, did not count for nothing: Grimmjow's Cero was no more than a child's play to him. The blue-haired Arrancar swore and jumped back a step, gritting his teeth in frustration.
The Ripper counterattacked; a ringing crash shook the air as his Cero blasted a sculpted angel marble headstone, missing the swift target. As the masterpiece of baroque grandeur crumbled into smithereens, the raven-haired Arrancar activated his Sonído. The Cero was a mere distraction; the real danger was the pair of axes. The Ripper wielded the huge weapons with an ease that belied his skinny frame, mercilessly chasing his target, laughing all the time.
As one of crescent moon axes grazed the butler's right arm, drawing a splash of blood, of which rancid scent dispersed onto the damp funeral site, its owner darted to inflict further injury, mocking his opponent with a derisive laugh. "How's that, vermin?"
Still dodging, the shorter Arrancar sneered back, "Don' talk while y're at dis distance, will you? Your asscrack-breath makes me sick!"
Lip curling in hateful jeer, the jet-haired murderer roared, "Pray, Santa Teresa!"
"Psh, can you believe it? Th' Ripper's prayin'! Are you a devout Cath'lic or somethin'?" mocked Grimmjow.
His mockery was short-lived. In an instant, The Ripper's reiatsu swelled up hugely, to the greatest Grimmjow had ever encountered. Four additional arms, each as lean and deadly as the last, burst from The Ripper's shoulders and sides, his crescent moon axes replaced by half a dozen scythes in the wielder's six hands. A pair of crooked white horns now grew on top of his head, and a flat half-mask covered all of his face save his lipless mouth and a diamond-shaped hole for his good eye. He resembled nothing more than a demonic praying mantis, come to slice ribbons from his opponent's still-living flesh and skull.
Trimmed blades of grass twirled though the air as the metal scythes raced in a deadly course toward Grimmjow's direction; a criss-crossing network of scarring cuts were carved deep into the row of solid tombstones in their course. The blue-haired Arrancar could barely evade this weapon's superior speed.
"Damn!" was all that Grimmjow had time to mutter for before his opponent resumed the attack.
Through his enhanced Pesquisa, Ulquiorra knew that The Ripper's spiritual energy was greater than his butler's, so he accelerated his Gonzui. Normally, he'd rather go for a few selected souls with stronger reiatsu to minimize its acrid taste, but time did not allow him such a luxury right now. While devouring as many as he could find, Ulquiorra let his eyes follow Grimmjow, whose jeering grin faltered into a snarl now that he had to face The Ripper with even more difficulties.
The Ripper's feet drew ragged scraping noises from the hard-packed earth as he saltated with his Sonído. The murderer sliced a mausoleum, which was in the way, to pieces with one swing of his half-dozen scythes. Grimmjow was forced to use his Gran Rey Cero to defend himself, utilizing the immense blast to deflect the rain of deadly detritus. Much larger and much more powerful than his ordinary Cero, the beams, as blue as his hair and eyes, blasted the huge chunks of stone into smithereens. This did not mean, however, that he had enough time to evade from The Ripper's enhanced Sónido.
Before he even had time to blink, another blow gouged into his diaphragm, bathing his opponent's blade in his blood. The minacious scythes hissed through the air about the butler's body in a deadly maelstrom. While Grimmjow's neck was shallowly injured, blood trickling from a wound dangerously near his jugular, his arms and limbs barely escaped being torn off completely, deep gashes splattering blood across the grass. His stomach was not so lucky: the wound in his belly was at least two inches deep, and he clamped a hand over it to keep his organs from spilling out onto the soggy ground.
The blue-haired Arrancar had no choice but to employ his utmost power.
Through the swirling debris, Ulquiorra spotted Grimmjow drawing his sword and shouting, "Grind, Pantera!" His voice shook with pain, but his resolve did not falter. His hands and feet transformed into black claws and a tail protruded from his body. His hair elongated, sweeping like mane. His reiatsu had increased too, though it did not surpass The Ripper's.
"Ho, what have we got here! Pantherman, the Robin Hood of the twenty-first century?" Giddy with zeal, The Ripper licked a portion of Grimmjow's blood on his scythe. "Interesting!" he leered as he savored the blood's coppery taste, "Definitely interesting!" He charged again while evading Grimmjow's Gran Rey Cero.
Surprised though he was with his butler's secret identity, Ulquiorra, who had just finished his Gonzui, hurried to Grimmjow's rescue by means of Sonído. It was to him that The Ripper held a grudge against; his butler had nothing to do with this and therefore did not deserve to be killed.
Before Ulquiora reached his destination, a thin crack appeared in the air, gradually widening into a gaping maw, from which four female Arrancar stepped out to intervene.
Ulquiorra's steps faltered in alarm. His enhanced Pesquisa warned him that one of these figures−the dark-skinned blonde who wore a costume resembling a great white shark−was stronger than he was. He no longer dared keep his hands in his pockets.
The female Arrancar with enormous reiatsu spoke no word; in fact, the lower half of her face was hidden behind the high, filter-studded collar of her skintight white top, which was short enough that saying it "bared her midriff" would be an understatement. The moment their eyes met, he knew she would do anything within her power to stop him from causing The Ripper any harm. There were no other options, those aquamarine eyes told him: fighting was the only way.
Ulquiorra sent a blast of Cero toward his four opponents. Not unexpectedly, the shark-woman deflected them all. His green Cero simply vanished before even reaching its targets.
"You three," she finally spoke, her voice a snap of cool logic as she ordered her followers, "Don't interfere in my fight! Make sure The Ripper is safe and sound!"
A wise decision, Ulquiorra lauded his opponent inwardly. She knows how to minimize war casualties. More than that, she seems to be a veteran combatant and an experienced leader, as well.
On the other hand, this situation became more dangerous for his butler. He needed to hurry if he wanted to keep the blue-haired Arrancar alive.
As soon as her three companions removed themselves from the battlefield, the shark-like figure fired her Cero, starting the fight anew. Broader than Ulquiorra's by far, its power was more than double that of the blast he'd sent her way.
Ulquiorra had anticipated the strength of the attack and dodged, but miscalculated the range, so it still grazed his left shoulder. He cast a sideways glance, not to examine the wound, but to glimpse Grimmjow's fight. The glance availed him naught, since the trees and the tombstones under the somber night sky obscured his view.
He could still hear Grimmjow's voice scorning, "What's dis… you're chickening out 'n' need help from a bunch of girls, chicken-dick wrangler?"
Instead of The Ripper, it was one of the female Arrancar who replied, "Shut the fuck up! Were it not for Shark's order, we wouldn't be helping this accursed rapist!"
"Tch, like I'd fuckin' know dis Shark shit!" Grimmjow shouted over the clash of metal. He was undoubtedly crossing swords with the adversary who had just spoken.
"How dare you disrespect our leader, filth!" another Arrancar, her voice of mezzo-soprano pitch, joined in hotly.
But The Ripper yelled, "Enough, mind your own business, you bunch of useless cunts! I don't care if Don Barragan Luisenbarn himself had that dipshit Shark guarantee my safety; just get the fuck out of my sight!"
"We can't disobey an order," another voice answered him, a flat, derisory alto this time.
Tone vexed yet eyes hungry for the view of exposed parts of the three female Arrancar' skin, The Ripper squalled still, "What the hell makes you think just because you've been ordered to guarantee my life, I won't rape and torture you to death?"
"And what makes you think just because we've been ordered to keep you alive, we are also prohibited from castrating you and making you regret for ever being born? You are only the don's nephew, not his son."
Her colleague added in agreement with chakrams on both hands dangerously aimed at the tall Arrancar's crotch, "Yeah, he's got six sons. He won't care if you can't make an heir!"
"Bah! None of those wimpy ass boys is as strong as me, in case you didn't notice–especially that fuck-ugly tranny, Charlotte Coolhourne! I'm as good as Barragan's own son!" Indignantly the male barked as he deflected the pair of flying chakrams with his faithful scythes.
"Wanna try?" The female Arrancar with curly hair Sonídoed to just one step away from where The Ripper stood and jabbed her broad sword at his abdomen, her steel blade glinting through the darkness and her powerful biceps rippling with the motion. His lean-muscled abdomen remained unscratched, as the sound of metal grinding on metal pierced the graveyard.
"Stop it, Lioness! Do you want to tarnish our reputation still more?" the cool-headed one demanded, holding one hand, hidden by an overlong white sleeve, before her face as though to ward off an unpleasant smell. "'The Amazon Quartet−the most invincible female assassins in Gotham Mundo−can't carry out its client's simple request,' is that what you want to hear?"
"But Serpent, aren't you pissed off by this… this… pustule on the anus of humanity?" a soprano voice protested−the one who had first snarled at Grimmjow.
"It's rare to see you and Lioness agree, Elk. A pity that now is not the right situation for it!" Serpent said, glancing at her comrades with contemptuous violet eyes. "Shark instructed us to keep this herpes covered dong biscuit alive, so we'll do as she said."
"What? You mean we'll keep covering this ingrate bastard, Serpent?"
"Not necessarily," the alto voice answered cunningly, "As long as he's alive in the end, it doesn't matter if his opponent injures him. We can just sit back and… watch until he really gets into a pinch." If she smiled at this, it was hidden behind her sleeve. "This way, we save our energy and our name remains unblemished."
Hurling his fulgid scythes at the so-called Serpent, The Ripper hollered, "No need for that, you imbecile bitches! This battle will end in five minutes and I'll fucking show you ass-wipes how powerless you are compared to an Espada, then I'll screw you to death!"
Ulquiorra never found out what reply the female Arrancar gave, for at that moment Pantherman roared, the power of his voice creating shockwaves that bent the trees and forced the three female Arrancar to back away to keep themselves out of his range. It even elevated The Ripper, in spite of his much-prided Hierro, from the ground.
Shark and Ulquiorra were not unaffected by Pantherman's shockwave either. Despite the distance, they found it difficult to stand firmly; some of the tombstones around them cracked, others crumbled into debris. Regardless of the chaos, they did not cease their battle, trading Cero for Cero and utilizing the blinding speed of Sónido to maneuver through the rain-soaked battleground. Gravestones became footholds, trees became props for rebounds or temporary cover from sight as they flickered in and out of sight, gauging each other's strength, speed, reflexes and senses before committing to a more risky course of action.
This shockwave apparently put the female Arrancar on alert. Concerned about their safety, if not that of their client, they leaped forward to strike Grimmjow down before he could become a greater threat to them than he was already. Three simultaneous battle cries of "Thrust, Cierva!", "Devour, Leona!" and "Strangle to death, Anaconda!" filled the air. Their forms shifted in a rush of wind and mounting reiatsu:
Lioness' curling dark hair became a blonde-brown mane which spilled over her back, a snarling cat-face mask appearing over her lovely dark features, bone-white armor covering her legs, and cupping the lower half of her breasts, and leaving the rest of her buxom, muscular body bare. Serpent's slender waist and legs melted and became an immense snake's tale, shifting like flexible white bone. She had a mouthless mask with oval slits for eyes, triple-drop marks beneath each eye, and slender feather-like spurs sprouting from the top appeared over her delicate features. Elk's fierce countenance was hidden behind a deer's-head bone mask, branching antlers sweeping back from its crown, a short horn sprouting from the center of its forehead and jagged red markings surrounding the eyes; her plain clothing became a brown furred bodysuit, open down the front to display her cleavage.
Not waiting to see how their opponent would fare against their resurecciones, the next moment, those female Arrancar tore off their left arms, ignoring the pain as they cried "Quimera Parca". This sacrifice allowed them to merge the limbs, forming an immense creature with a deer's skull for a head, a muscular brown-furred torso, a long black lion's mane, a deer's legs, and a serpent's tail. The creature's colossal presence soon occupied the cemetery, blowing the leaves off their branches. Despite its bulky appearance, this chimera was swift as any in the use of Sónido. In a flash, it appeared before Grimmjow and fired a Cero from its glowing red eyes.
Grimmjow tried to evade by leaping upwards, a savage snarl twisting his features, but he could not make it in time. A new hole pierced through his torso, dripping blood, though the partially cauterized nature of the wound kept him from bleeding out. Writhing in pain, he still shot darts of miniature Cerofrom his elbows, showering the vast creature and its three mistresses with bolts of blue energy.
The darts that hit the chimera-like figure were aimed for the vitals, and they had done a good job of shredding those. The monster was brought down on one knee, gore oozing from what remained of its torso. There was more than simply Cero within Grimmjow's dart-like attacks: as they grazed their targets' skins, the poison inside them activated, weakening all who were infected. Despite its prodigious size, the chimeric creature staggered against such tiny attacks. Its mistresses had received only a few blows before they successfully kept themselves away from the darts, but Allon, this Quimera Parca, took the rest by itself. Under normal conditions, The Quimera Parca was ungovernable, but today, its instinct told it that its three creators were in mortal danger: Allon shielded them from the harm by nature.
In its attenuated state, the chimeric creature was down on its knees, no longer wielding sufficient power to escape Pantherman's decapitation. Before its spirit disappeared, Pantherman absorbed it with Gonzui, healing his wounds by channeling his opponent's power.
"Shit!" Elk swore.
"In the end, this is the difference between Espada and Números…" Serpent sighed in resigned distaste.
"Attack him now, while he is still in the middle of Gonzui!" Lioness cried.
With that, the trio threw themselves at Pantherman as one.
As they sprung at him, unexpectedly, they became the hunted; The Ripper's scythes whistled and Lioness became the first to fall… into five bloody pieces.
"Serves you bloody dipsticks right for fucking interfering with my battle!" sneered The Ripper.
"Mila Rose!" Lioness' shorthaired companion screamed as the corpse dissolved into dust and vanished.
"How dare you!" Seething with fury, Serpent screamed at The Ripper. A hand shot out, and an immense serpent slithered out from the sleeve. With an unknown incantation, she manipulated her familiar to attack The Ripper.
The snake was remarkably fast, closing onto The Ripper in no time at all, its mouth gaping wide to display long fangs dripping with deadly venom. Before it could strike, it suddenly fell lifeless. Its mistress stood wide-eyed, her hands falling from her face to hang limply at her sides as her mask shattered and vanished−revealing a hollow hole where her mouth should have been.
Pantherman's hand emerged from her stomach, crushing her viscera in a grip as strong as iron. His Gonzui was completed; his health and vigor, restored; his power, enhanced. "For once," he muttered, "I agree wi'h dat bastard: you gals' r' vexin'." He shook the gore from his hand, not even bothering to watch her fall or witness her dissolution.
"YOOOOU!!!!" This time it was Elk's turn to scream a battle cry. Blinded with rage, she sped toward Grimmjow with a chakram in each hand, her bloodlust blinding her from the uselessness of her act. She threw herself at him with all the berserk fury of a mad dog. "For Sun-Sun!" she cried.
"Stop, Apache!" Even while battling Ulquiorra, the so-called 'Shark' was still concerned about her last companion's safety. But it was too late. Far, far too late.
One of The Ripper's scythes fell upon her nape as she darted forward: he had calculated her timing and tossed his scythe upwards. The crescent moon blade sliced through her neck until her head lolled, dropped, and rolled on the ground with the eyes and mouth still wide opened, though not for long. Soon her corpse, just like the previous two, vanished into the dust.
Shark uttered nothing, but judging from the blazing fury in her eyes, it was likely that she would kill The Ripper as soon as her business with Ulquiorra was done, her client's request be damned. She attacked Gotham's richest bachelor again, her movements rushed, but by no means reckless. In fact, they became even more powerful and precise, systematically eliminating possible cover with every attack, even as she forced him to dodge the deadly blasts. She must want this fight to end soon so that she could tear her comrades' murderer to pieces with her bare hands.
Ulquiorra's expression did not change, but he was pained that his hunch had been right. Since she was perfectly capable of handling him even without her Resurrección, the fact that she opted to draw her broad, short, hollow-centered sword, arm outstretched in front with the blade pointing down, and proclaimed, "Attack, Tiburón!" meant that she indeed strongly desired to accelerate the conclusion of the battle. Water wrapped around her in a cocoon-like cyclone. When she sliced herself out, her transformation revealed bone-like armor in place of her Hollow fragments.
At the sight of Shark's immodest outfit, The Ripper let out a suggestive whistle. Without taking his gaze off of Shark's only partially covered voluptuous breasts, and her long smooth thighs covered by the smallest of skirts and strips of bone armor, he exclaimed, "I'll let you have a taste of my dick as soon as our battles end, you blonde slut!"
She shot him a glare that would have boiled him alive had it been able, her eyes the only part of her face visible behind a white shark-mask with bared triangular teeth and aquamarine markings.
Another blue Cero landed on the tree behind The Ripper, and the trunk crumbled into ashes. Pantherman snarled, "Your opponent is me; d'you think you still have time to care 'bout bangin' a woman?"
"Show me that you're worth my time, now that the obstacles are gone," The Ripper leered back, "Show me what you've got, Pantherman!"
A series of blue Cero, and a barrage of punched, slashes, and blows as he dashed in to close-range combat, became Pantherman's answer to The Ripper's challenge.
Barely a moment had lapsed since Shark's Resurrección, but that was more than enough for Ulquiorra to know, unquestionably, that the new level of power was too much for his unreleased form. He had no choice but to transform to his own Resurrección state now, or he would die.
Drawing his sword, he pronounced, "Bind, Murciélago!"
At the sound of his words, his spiritual energy burst and tumbled around him like black rain. His face, already mask-like, was hidden behind a true mask of bone-white material, green-black streaks like the trails of tears descending from each eye along the smooth hard surface. Long, twisted horns sprouted from his head, and ragged-looking black bat-wings burst from his back. His green-hilted sword vanished, replaced by a black spear.
Batman had appeared.
The black rain of spiritual energy was not the only rain that was falling. As if in sympathy, the sky had opened up anew and poured down water on the graveyard, slicking the newly-transformed Arrancar's black hair.
"First Pantherman and now Batman! Is Pantherman Batman's cocksucker or what?" The Ripper proclaimed happily, "I can't believe my luck!" If he succeeded to kill them both, he would unequivocally become Gotham Mundo's most fearsome villain, but that wasn't even what mattered to him. To hell with fame! He just wanted to be the strongest, to kill every other motherfucker who might be considered close to his level. He gloried in the slaughter… and now, he had the chance to kill the two bastards who might try to stop his fun!
Brimming with overconfidence, The Ripper grew reckless. This time, Pantherman's attack cut through The Ripper's left wrists. Three severed hands, all still holding their scythes fell.
"DAMNED FIEND!" The Ripper swore in agony, his exultation just a moment before now turned into dismay. All his three handless left arms were dangling down his side, showing the flesh and bone contained within them. His three right arms steadied their scythes for another attack.
Grimmjow dodged to The Ripper's left, thinking that this side was harmless, but he was wrong. The Ripper's amputated hands regrew instantaneously, even the scythes bursting forth from the ruins of his severed limbs, and they cut Grimmjow diagonally across his chest before he could fortify himself with Hierro.
Dat… dat just ain't right… Even in his pained state, Grimmjow's skin was still prickled with goosebumps as he witnessed his opponent's abnormal regeneration speed. Nothin' should heal dat fast!
Meanwhile, Shark silently blessed the rain. Her techniques were all aqua-based and this made her the most formidable whenever water was around. She extended her blade out, the raindrops that fell on it evaporating on contact. Her blonde lashes lowering to shade her ultramarine eyes, Shark launched Hirviendo.
It was hard to tell which was more searing: the attack of the boiling steam or Shark's fury. The emotional wounds she felt at the deaths of her comrades, combined with the unlimited water source made Shark the worst possible enemy. Even the usually composed Batman could not help flinching when one of her attacks scalded his skin. Had he not performed Gonzui earlier, he did not doubt he would have been boiled alive by the scalding water the instant it brushed his body.
Minutes passed. Two battles raged simultaneously, not one participant sparing a glance for the other's battles.
Never before had the dark knight felt the swift steps of his feet and the mighty flaps of his wings this useless. No matter where he moved, and no matter how he strove to accelerate his speed, his opponent was always faster. Sometimes her corporeal entity would move ahead of him; at other times, her Cascada−a rushing aquatic surge−chased him.
Batman leaped forward in the space of a heartbeat, and then he and his opponent began a frenzied dance of flexing limbs and gyrating bodies in a blur of Sonído−crescent kicks, chops, slashes, knees, elbows, locks, throws and holds all exchanged, broken, and parried within the space of a human eye blink. Shark was a brilliant tactician who had no difficulty in predicting his next step, and not even the utmost reaches of his Sónido could keep him from her reach.
He had no other choice but to employ his ultimate technique: Cero Oscuras. So powerful was the black Cero that everything became enveloped within darkness at its release. The black mist enshrouded the entire cemetery and its arboreal shades. Even the ground was no longer distinguishable from the sky. But most of all, the black Cero's destructive force was tenfold greater than Batman's normal Cero. The tide of battle had turned: Pantherman true to his name, could see in complete blackness, and Batman could naturally see through his own Cero.
After eons of evolution, sight had become such a crucial and inborn sense that the moment their opponents were hit by such a loss, they froze. It was a purely visceral reaction, and it was only for a moment−for the briefest of instants−but it was enough.
Along with the darkness, Batman's Cero Oscuras blasted more than half of Shark's stomach, taking a huge bite from her side, ironically akin to that of a ravenous shark. She managed to dodge at the last second; otherwise, her body would have been split in two. Batman did not give her any chance to recover. Instead, taking advantage of her agony, he ran Murciélago through the rest of Shark's abdomen.
Blood gushed from Shark's mouth, surging up into her lungs from her destroyed organs. Grimacing, she grabbed the spear piercing her side to ascertain his location and keep her opponent from escaping. With the last of her strength, Shark condensed large amounts of water around her blade and fired it off, in a blast of pressurized water.
Had La Gota hit its target, Batman would have surely died. But, thanks to the darkness still lingering from Cero Oscuras, the attack missed. Even so, the current of air formed by following La Gota's course was still acuate enough to crack the edge of Ulquiorra's mask and draw fresh blood from his cheek.
The last of the Amazon Quartet fell. She made one last effort to rise, embedding her broad pata onto the ground and clinging on to its hilt to stand up, but darkness swallowed the rest of her strength. She fell once more, never to stand up again.
Ulquiorra stepped forward to stand over her fallen form, removing his mask and ending his Resurrección. "You are the first to make me use Cero Oscuras." Wistful words tore from his usually languid mouth. "May I have your name?"
Bloody lips moved, forming two final words. "Tia… Harribel."
The copper-skinned blonde's life ended. She died accompanied by the glistening drops of rain and her body dissolved into infinite particles that dispersed into the shades of the night.
Ulquiorra stared at the spot where Harribel had lain and wondered what would have happened if they had met in different circumstances.
The thought was cut short by a thud. Ulquiorra ran towards it to discover The Ripper slumped on the ground with a hideous smile. He knew this day would come, and he had fought without regrets. Those who called themselves warriors were born of blood—and wouldn't die any other way.
A smug smirk stretched Grimmjow's lips. "Finished 'im off wi'h m' Gran Rey Cero, thanks to your little black mist there. Coulda used a 'lil heads up though."
They watched as the corpse dissipated into dust. Surprising even himself, an eerie sense of loss dragged down Grimmjow's chest, but at the same time his heart was exalted at his victory.
He was not without injury: cuts laced his skin, bits of his long mane of blue hair were missing, and a deeper gash in his leg bled sluggishly. Grimmjow, the winner of the battle, then approached his employer. His expression stiffened when their distance had closed into two yards.
"What's wrong?" asked Ulquiorra.
"Somethin'… somethin's happenin' to m' back!"
Ulquiorra checked Grimmjow's back. "The place where your tattoo is located is shining." But he spoke no more. A strange trepidation filled himself, as well. His own tattoo was glimmering with light.
After the brightness subsided, Ulquiorra realized that their tattoo numbers had increased: four to three and six to four.
The master and the butler looked at each other. By an unwritten decree, they knew that these were by no means the last Arrancar to come.