Soul Society, Twelfth Division, Spirit Particle Measurement & Analysis Department.
Ever since the first detection of Arrancar spiritual signatures, the atmosphere within the department had been one of tense vigilance. Personnel monitored the Human World's spiritual fluctuations around the clock, but the prolonged absence of any new Arrancar incursions had begun to lull some into a false sense of security. The recent quiet was deep… and unnerving.
"I have a bad feeling about this…" muttered Akon, the Vice-Captain of the department, staring at the unchanging data streams.
"You worry too much, Akon," a technician replied, stretching lazily. "The Captain-Commander confirmed it with Kisuke Urahara himself—Aizen needs at least a year to complete his Hōgyoku. We might see skirmishes, but a full-scale war? Not yet. Captain Hitsugaya's team is still down there."
"I hope you're right," Akon murmured, his brow furrowed.
At that moment, a shrill, piercing alarm shattered the calm. The central monitor lit up with violent crimson warnings.
"Don't panic! Report the numbers and intensity!" Akon barked.
"I-I-I…" Rin Tsubokura stammered, his face paling as he read the data. "Th-there are… five signatures! All flagged red! They're… they're all Espada-level Arrancar!"
"What?! Five Espada, attacking simultaneously?! Does Aizen intend to wipe out Hitsugaya's entire force?!" Akon's composure broke. "Notify Captain Hitsugaya immediately! Priority override! Lift all spiritual limiters on his team now, or it'll be too late!"
…
In the Human World, the stationed Shinigami were scattered. Tōshirō Hitsugaya, Rangiku Matsumoto, Ikkaku Madarame, and Yumichika Ayasegawa were conducting their own training regimen in a remote mountainous region. Meanwhile, Amamiya Miyako and Rukia Kuchiki were deep in Kidō practice within the underground facility of Urahara Shop.
The urgent message from the Soul Pager reached them simultaneously. Without a word, Amamiya and Rukia abandoned their training, flash-stepping out of the shop and racing towards the source of the massive, malignant spiritual pressures.
Midway, their path was blocked.
A blue-haired Arrancar with a single arm dropped from the sky, landing before them with a predatory smirk.
"Yo, Shinigami. Been looking for you. I'm here to settle the score." Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez's grin was all teeth.
"Grimmjow, you're too fast. I won't fight you for him, though—my arm was taken by a different bastard." Yammy Llargo landed heavily nearby, cracking the asphalt. His eyes scanned the two Shinigami. "Huh? There's a woman, too."
"Tch…" Grimmjow glanced at Yammy's fully regenerated arm with palpable disgust. His own missing limb was a permanent brand of failure.
Amamiya's mind raced. 'Both Grimmjow and Yammy are here. That means the other three Espada signatures are heading for Hitsugaya's group. This is a coordinated assault.'
"Rukia," Amamiya said, his voice low and urgent. "You handle Yammy. Be careful—his raw power and durability are monstrous, but he's not agile. Don't try to finish him. Just stall, evade, and survive. I'll come for you once I deal with Grimmjow."
"Understood." Rukia nodded grimly. She had witnessed Amamiya's previous battle with the Décimo Espada and knew the sheer, brutal force she was up against.
Amamiya then turned his attention to Grimmjow, a taunting smile on his lips. "What's wrong, Grimmjow? Missing a souvenir? Let me guess… Aizen's punishment? No, he's not that petty. It was Tōsen, wasn't it?"
Seeing Amamiya instantly deduce the cause of his injury ignited Grimmjow's fury. "Shinigami… even with one arm, I'll still crush you!" He drew his Zanpakutō with his remaining hand, the motion brimming with arrogant confidence.
Grimmjow lunged, his blade a silver streak aimed at Amamiya's throat. Having experienced Amamiya's unorthodox abilities, he aimed to end it with a straightforward, powerful slash.
"Manifest. Shinnya Zetsunen" In a flash of light, Amamiya's sealed katana transformed into the twin blades of his Shikai, Shinnya Zetsunen. He didn't raise them to block. Instead, he stood firm as Grimmjow's sword descended.
The blade struck Amamiya's shoulder… and stopped dead, as if hitting an invisible, unyielding wall. It couldn't pierce the skin, let alone draw blood. In the same instant, Amamiya's twin swords swept out in a vicious cross-slash.
Grimmjow's reflexes were exceptional. The moment he felt his attack fail, he kicked off the ground, barely evading the counterattack.
He tried again, attacking from different angles with even greater speed—thrusts, slashes, feints. Each time, his blade met the same invisible, perfect defense without so much as a sound.
Frustrated, Grimmjow abandoned his sword for a moment, gathering blue spiritual energy in his palm for a point-blank Cero. But the moment the energy sphere began to form, one of Amamiya's blades flashed, slicing through the gathering reishi and cutting a deep gash across Grimmjow's hand.
Grimmjow leapt back, eyeing the blood welling from his wound. "A hard shell, huh? Almost as good as a Hollow's Hierro."
"Hierro?" Amamiya scoffed. "I find yours to be as fragile as paper. After all, didn't both you and your friend over there get cut down easily by me?"
"Is that so?" Grimmjow's voice dropped, cold and deadly. He raised his Zanpakutō before him. "Then let's see if your shell holds against this."
"Grind, Pantera!"
Originally, his Resurrección release involved raking clawed fingers down the length of his blade. With one arm gone, he could only hold the sword aloft and shout the command. The Zanpakutō dissolved into particles of light.
Grimmjow was the first Espada to release in the Human World. The torrent of Hollow spiritual pressure that erupted was colossal, a violent, predatory wave that washed over the entire town. Every spiritually aware being felt it—including Ichigo Kurosaki, training miles away in the Visored warehouse.
In his released form, Grimmjow's body was sheathed in sleek white armor. His hair lengthened and fine, his teeth sharpened into fangs, and a long, agile tail sprouted from his back. His remaining hand and both feet were now tipped with savage claws. His eyes were cold, sharp, and brimming with pure killing intent.
"Come on, Shinigami! Round two!" In a blur of motion, he vanished, reappearing behind Amamiya. His claws stabbed towards Amamiya's spine with lethal speed.
CLANG!
The same result. The claws stopped a hair's breadth from his uniform, repelled by the invisible field.
'Tch! This damn barrier…!' Grimmjow began a furious, high-speed assault, darting around Amamiya like a phantom, striking from every conceivable angle with his claws, tail, and feet. Each attack was met with the same silent, absolute negation.
Amamiya could defend, but maintaining the Kojin Zetsun rejection field continuously drained his spiritual energy. He couldn't keep it up indefinitely.
'This sensation… the limiter seal has been lifted. Soul Society acted quickly this time.' He felt the familiar surge of his full power returning, a relief flooding through him.
'Even in Resurrección, Grimmjow's current attacks can't breach my Shikai's absolute defense. But I can't land a hit on him either, not at his speed. And Rukia won't last long against Yammy…'
After deflecting another flurry, Amamiya flash-stepped back, creating distance. The time for prolonged defense was over.
"Bankai."
The twin blades in his hands dissolved into motes of shimmering light. These lights swirled and condensed beside him, not into a weapon he held, but into a massive, magnificent bow that floated in the air beside him.
"Shinya Zetsunen – Jōsō no Yumi." (Divine Night Severance – Bow of Purification)
The bow glowed with an inner white light, expanding until it was taller than Amamiya himself before stabilizing. Its frame was enormous, elegantly curved and entwined with intricate patterns of black and white. Most strikingly, it had no bowstring.
The sheer, dense spiritual pressure radiating from the Bankai forced even Grimmjow to raise his arm to shield his eyes.
"You… said Bankai?!" Grimmjow exclaimed, shock overriding his fury. He had never seen Amamiya's Bankai. The sight of the immense, stringless bow hovering autonomously was utterly alien.
"Bankai?!" The cry came simultaneously from Rukia and Yammy, their own clash momentarily forgotten as they were stunned by the sudden, overwhelming reiatsu.
"He's… already achieved Bankai? When?!" Rukia's mind whirled. 'Was it during the Muramasa incident? He did materialize his Zanpakutō then, and he wasn't controlled… Byakuya-niisama said he was the one who ultimately defeated Muramasa… Did he master it in such a short time after that?'
"Even Bankai won't catch my Pantera!" Grimmjow roared, regaining his arrogance.
Grimmjow's confidence in his Pantera speed was absolute. He believed no Shinigami Bankai, no matter how powerful, could track his movements if he unleashed his full velocity.
Shinya Zetsunen – Jōsō no Yumi, Amamiya's Bankai, was a weapon of extreme, annihilating offense. A single, full-powered strike from it possessed the force to decide a battle. To end this confrontation swiftly and aid Rukia, Amamiya had summoned its incomplete, intermediary form.
As Grimmjow blurred forward, a sonic boom cracking in his wake, Amamiya did not move.
Only when the Arrancar's lethal claws were a hair's breadth from his face did Amamiya speak.
"Bakudō Number Thirty-Nine: Enkōsen!"
A disc of shimmering yellow light, etched with a hexagonal pattern, materialized on his forearm, intercepting Grimmjow's strike with a sound like a gong. The claws screeched against the barrier, sending sparks flying.
For the first time, Amamiya had used Kidō to block. Seizing the moment of impact, he channeled a surge of his now-unsealed spiritual pressure into the massive bow floating beside him with his free hand, its form growing more solid, more real.
Grimmjow recoiled, momentarily thrown by the change in tactics. This was the first time his attack had been met with something other than that infuriating, silent negation.
He lunged again, a white streak of fury. This time, Amamiya was ready.
"Bakudō Number Twenty-One: Sekienton! Bakudō Number Twenty-Six: Kyokkō!"
A thick, crimson smoke erupted from the ground between them, swallowing Amamiya whole. Simultaneously, the light around his form bent and warped, erasing his spiritual signature from direct perception.
The dual-cast Kidō created a perfect smokescreen. Grimmjow snarled, his enhanced senses piercing through the visual and minor cloaking effects. He locked onto Amamiya's reiatsu—now a fainter, distorted signal—and shot upwards in pursuit.
Amamiya was indeed flying straight up, putting distance between himself and the ground. In his mind, a silent command was issued to Shinya Zetsunen.
Sensing his prey trying to escape, Grimmjow burst through the top of the smoke cloud, his predatory eyes locking onto Amamiya above. He accelerated, claws outstretched.
"Hadō Number Thirty-One: Shakkahō!"
A bolt of crimson energy shot from Amamiya's palm. Grimmjow didn't even bother to dodge properly; he swatted the mid-level destruction spell aside with a contemptuous swipe of his claw, not breaking his ascent. The Kidō was a mere distraction, too weak to be a real threat.
Seeing the Arrancar commit fully to the charge, a cold smile touched Amamiya's lips.
That smile was the only warning Grimmjow got. A primal instinct screamed in his mind. He jerked to a sudden, mid-air halt, his eyes widening.
The threat wasn't above him.
It was below.
As the last of the Sekienton smoke dissipated, the true nature of the battlefield was revealed. The enormous Shinya Zetsunen bow had not followed Amamiya into the sky. It remained anchored where the smoke had been, hovering in the air.
A bowstring of condensed light had formed. Nocked upon it was a colossal arrow, gleaming with an ominous black-and-white aura. It was already drawn back to its limit.
And it was pointed directly at the stalled Grimmjow.
'He separated from his Bankai?!' The thought barely had time to form before the bow thrummed with a sound that vibrated in the soul.
THWUMMMM!
The giant arrow vanished. It didn't travel; it seemed to simply arrive at its target.
BOOOOM!
A cataclysmic explosion of spiritual energy engulfed Grimmjow. The shockwave rattled windows for blocks. When the blinding light faded, Grimmjow was revealed, hovering unsteadily. A deep, vertical gash ran from his shoulder to his opposite hip, bleeding profusely. His white armor was cracked and scorched.
"You… bastard…" he growled, the pain and humiliation warring in his voice. He'd been outmaneuvered. The Shinigami had used himself as bait while his weapon, operating with a will of its own, set the trap.
Amamiya's Bankai, Shinya Zetsunen – Jōsō no Yumi, was unique. While he could wield the colossal bow directly, its true ability was autonomous operation. It could act independently within a significant range, fed by Amamiya's own reiatsu. In essence, it created a two-front battle—Amamiya himself, and a remote artillery piece of devastating power.
Seeing the giant bow now begin to glide back towards its master, Grimmjow made a desperate, rage-fueled decision. Ignoring the searing pain from his torso, he pushed his Sonído to the limit, becoming a blur of white and blue aimed straight at Amamiya.
A second ambush would be impossible. Amamiya needed a different solution. He would trade a wound for a crippling blow.
As Grimmjow closed the final distance, his remaining claw aimed for a killing thrust to the heart, Amamiya deliberately relaxed the Kojin Zetsun field over a small part of his side.
This time, there was no barrier.
SCHLICK!
Grimmjow's claw sank deep into Amamiya's flank. Blood sprayed. A fierce, triumphant grin split Grimmjow's face—he'd found the flaw!
But his triumph died instantly. Amamiya's hand shot up, clamping like a vice around Grimmjow's wrist, the one attached to the impaling arm.
'What?!' Grimmjow tried to pull back, to wrench free, but with only one arm, his leverage was gone. He kicked out, but his foot strikes, while powerful, lacked the piercing focus of his claws and couldn't break the iron grip. He was trapped.
Instinct took over. Grimmjow's jaw distended unnaturally, a familiar blue glow gathering in his maw—a point-blank Cero from his mouth.
Amamiya gave him no opening.
"Iron sand wall, priestly tower, glowing hot iron, because of its firmness, it finally becomes silent!"
"Bakudō Number Seventy-Five: Gochūtekkan!"
Four massive, spear-like iron pillars, blazing with sealing energy, materialized in the air above and shot downward. One slammed onto each of Grimmjow's shoulders. The third pinned his trapped arm. The fourth, with cruel precision, crashed down onto the small of his back.
CRUNCH!
The impact, combined with the sudden, immense weight, broke Grimmjow's posture. With a roar of pain and fury, he was driven out of the sky, beginning a rapid, uncontrolled descent towards the ruined street below, still partially pinned by the Kidō.
He struggled wildly, using his free claw to shatter one of the pillars on his shoulder. But the other three held fast, his single arm insufficient to break them all quickly.
Amamiya didn't wait. A mental command flashed to Shinya Zetsunen, which had not yet fully returned. The great bow halted its flight, rotated mid-air, and a new arrow of condensed annihilation bloomed upon its string.
'No! Not again!' Grimmjow saw it coming. He thrashed with desperate strength, finally managing to twist his torso in mid-fall.
The arrow was released. It wasn't aimed for a kill shot at his core. It was aimed with surgical precision.
PCHOW!
The black-and-white arrow pierced straight through Grimmjow's right thigh, exploding out the other side in a shower of blood and fragmented Hollow armor. The limb went instantly, uselessly limp.
Pantera's greatest strength was speed, generated by powerful leg muscles. With a grievous hole blown through his thigh, that speed was crippled.
Grimmjow hit the ground with a bone-jarring crash, the remaining Gochūtekkan pillars slamming down around him. He lay in a growing pool of his own blood, his breaths coming in ragged, pain-filled gasps. The frustration and rage were a fire in his chest, hotter than any wound.
'Damn it all…! This… this wouldn't have happened… not with both arms!' The handicap, the humiliation—it was a poison more bitter than death.