The brutal dance of death between Amamiya Miyako and Yammy Llargo raged on. A significant amount of time had passed since Miyako's initial gambit, the arrow that had sealed the Espada's Zanpakutō. The white sands of Hueco Mundo were scarred and churned from their conflict.
Yammy's colossal body was now a pincushion of wounds, littered with holes of various sizes—each one a testament to an arrow fired from the immense spiritual bow of Miyako's Bankai. For any ordinary Arrancar, even a single one of these injuries would have been fatal. Yet, fueled by sheer, unadulterated rage, the Number 10 Espada stubbornly refused to fall.
He panted, great heaving breaths that stirred the sand around him. His heart was a volatile mix of incandescent fury and a grim, burgeoning excitement. He was furious at this fly of a Shinigami who flitted just out of reach, pelting him with stinging attacks. But beneath the anger, he felt a familiar thrum of power returning. The connection to his Zanpakutō, once silenced by that accursed seal, was flickering back to life. It no longer felt like a dead weight at his hip; it answered his spiritual pressure with a low, eager growl of its own.
"Hahahahaha! HAHAHA—!" Yammy's thunderous laughter boomed across the desolate landscape, a sound of pure, manic triumph. "Shinigami! Your cheap trick has worn off! Now… I'm going to make you feel true pain!"
He drew his Zanpakutō, the blade gleaming with malevolent intent. "Rage, Ira!" he bellowed.
The sword dissolved into countless fragments of light, which then surged into Yammy's own body. His form began to swell, muscles bulging and bones cracking as he expanded at an alarming rate. He was undergoing his Resurrección.
Amamiya Miyako was not one to politely wait for an enemy to power up. The air around him hummed as he summoned his Bankai bow closer. He ascended into the air, rising high above the transforming behemoth. He personally drew the bowstring back, a single, focused arrow of devastating power materializing as he took aim at the swelling form below.
Yammy's transformation was monstrous. His two legs multiplied into twelve powerful, trunk-like limbs. A long, whip-like tail sprouted from his back, and his body swelled to a height that rivaled the towers of Las Noches itself. The number '10' tattooed on his shoulder began to shift and blur. The '1' faded away, leaving only a stark '0' behind.
This form was even more immense than the one he had initially revealed in Karakura Town, a clear result of the immense rage he had accumulated during his fight with Miyako.
Yet, high in the air, Miyako's expression remained placid. He sensed the explosive growth of Yammy's spiritual pressure and body, but he showed no fear, no surprise. He was waiting. Watching. Biding his time for the perfect opportunity.
The moment Yammy's growth ceased, the giant lashed out. A massive hand, large enough to crush a building, swept through the air, intent on snatching Miyako from the sky. Miyako didn't humor him. He loosed his arrow.
BOOM!
The projectile struck the center of Yammy's palm with the force of a meteor. The impact wasn't a clean pierce this time; it was a violent explosion of force that blasted Yammy's hand aside, leaving a gaping, bloody crater in its wake. The arrow had failed to penetrate completely, dissipating after causing the grievous wound.
"I see," Miyako mused aloud, his tone feigning mild interest. "A Resurrección fueled by so much accumulated spiritual pressure also grants a significant boost to your Hierro's durability."
Yammy retracted his injured hand, staring at the wound in disbelief. The pain, the insult—it was too much. A roar of pure, undistilled fury erupted from his throat, so deafening that it physically shook the very air.
"DAMN IT!! I'LL KILL YOU! KILL YOU! I'LL CRUSH YOU INTO DUST!" he howled, his voice a seismic event.
The sound wave reached deep into Las Noches. Lesser Arrancar inside trembled, some falling to their knees under the weight of the spiritual pressure that accompanied his rage.
From a distance, Nnoitra Gilga watched the spectacle and spat in disgust. "Tch. That oaf, Yammy. To think he'd been stockpiling that much power. Whatever. I was hoping he and that Shinigami would take each other out, but it looks like the pest is done for. How boring." He turned, his interest waning. "Tesla. We're going back inside."
"Yes, Nnoitra-sama," his Fracción, Tesla Lindocruz, replied with a respectful hand over his heart.
But as Nnoitra began to lead his subordinate back towards the white fortress, a new and terrifyingly sharp spiritual pressure descended upon the battlefield. It was wild, untamed, and brimming with bloodlust—a pressure that, in its raw, cutting edge, felt even more dangerous than Amamiya Miyako's.
This caught Nnoitra's attention. He stopped and turned, his four eyes narrowing.
Yammy, enraged beyond reason, was bringing both of his colossal hands together in a thunderous clap, trying to finally squash the elusive Miyako. But before his palms could meet, a long, deep gash suddenly tore open across his massive chest, spraying dark blood into the air.
"GYAAAAAH! Who dares?! Attacking me from the shadows, you coward!" Yammy bellowed, looking down.
His gaze fell upon a single Shinigami standing nonchalantly on the sand below. The man wore the standard black shihakushō, but over it was draped the white haori of a Captain. An eyepatch covered one eye, and his spiky black hair stood out like a thornbush.
"Heh," the Shinigami grunted, a feral grin splitting his face. "I thought I'd have to go huntin' for a decent fight after comin' to this boring white world. Didn't expect to run into a giant freak as soon as I popped in… This is gettin' interesting!"
"YOU! Who are you?!" Yammy roared.
The Shinigami slammed the notched blade of his Zanpakuto onto his shoulder. "Eleventh Division Captain, Zaraki Kenpachi! Remember it before I cut you down!"
Miyako saw his chance. The moment he had been waiting for had arrived. He descended gracefully, landing a short distance from the Captain. "Captain Kenpachi."
"Huh? Amamiya? So you're the one tanglin' with this big guy?" Kenpachi said, not taking his eye off Yammy.
"He's my opponent, Captain. No cutting in," Miyako replied, his tone a mix of relief and admonishment.
"Cutting in? You were just dodgin' and weavin'! I'm here for backup. That damn Kisuke Urahara specifically asked the Old Man Yamamoto to make sure you didn't get yourself killed. Otherwise, you think I'd bother?" Kenpachi retorted.
Miyako raised an eyebrow. "Captain Kenpachi, you charged over here the second you felt his spiritual pressure because you were excited, weren't you?"
"Little Miyako's right! Ken-chan felt the big guy's reiatsu and ran straight here! Zoom!" Yachiru Kusajishi, Kenpachi's lieutenant, popped out from behind his back, giggling and pointing at Yammy.
"Yachiru, you talk too much," Kenpachi grumbled, his grin betraying his annoyance.
This casual conversation, this utter disregard for his presence, caused Yammy's rage to boil over into a new, previously unattained stratum of fury. "HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME!!" He clenched a fist the size of a small house and brought it down like a meteor upon the two Captains.
Miyako easily flash-stepped away. He watched, however, as Kenpachi didn't even budge. The Captain merely braced himself and raised his Zanpakuto overhead, intending to block the blow head-on.
Seeing this, Miyako quickly called out, a plan forming in his mind. "Captain Kenpachi! The Fifth Espada is right over there! He's even stronger than this lumbering fool! Why don't you go deal with him?" He gestured vaguely towards where Nnoitra was standing.
"Huh?" Kenpachi grunted, distracted. In that split second, Yammy's fist slammed into him, driving him deep into the sand with a colossal BOOM.
A moment later, a matching gash split open on Yammy's knuckles. Kenpachi pushed himself out of the crater, brushing sand off his shoulder. "Don't try to fool me. This big guy's spiritual pressure is way thicker. That other one's just a warm-up."
"That's because the Fifth Espada hasn't released his Zanpakutō yet," Miyako countered swiftly. "You know what a Resurrección is, Captain. It's like a Bankai for Arrancar. The Yammy in front of you is only the Tenth Espada. If the weakest can have this much power, just imagine what the Fifth can do after he releases."
It was a blatant lie. In terms of raw spiritual pressure, Yammy's Resurrección, Ira, was superior. But his gigantic form was slow and cumbersome, a fact Miyako was counting on. He needed Kenpachi to occupy Nnoitra.
Zaraki Kenpachi's good eye widened, a spark of manic joy igniting within it. The prospect of a stronger opponent, a hidden power waiting to be unleashed, was irresistible. "Amamiya… you better not be lying to me!" With that, he completely lost interest in the towering Yammy. He turned and began strolling towards a smirking Nnoitra, his spiritual pressure already lashing out in a challenge.
Yammy saw his new prey trying to leave and reached out to grab him. But a searing pain shot through his face as one of Miyako's arrows grazed his cheek, drawing a line of dark blood.
"What's wrong, Yammy?" Miyako taunted, hovering high above once more, his voice dripping with scorn. "Did you finally realize you can't lay a finger on me, so you're desperate for a different opponent? Too bad. Your fight is still with me."