"Okay… it's incredible…"
Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck stood frozen, her emerald eyes wide with astonishment at the scene before her.
If Hollows could sweat, the six-headed Gillian-class Menos would be drenched in cold fear. Moments ago, they had been swarming the desolate sands of Hueco Mundo with mindless aggression—but now, they lay motionless, obliterated by a single strike from Akira.
"So the friend I made… is actually a hidden monster!?"
Across the cratered battlefield, the remnants of the assault force—Gillian-class Hollows under the command of two powerful Adjuchas—writhed in agony. Among them stood Charlotte Cuuhlhourne and Abirama Redder, both battered but still conscious.
"Damn it… Just one strike… and we're all critically wounded!" Charlotte hissed, clutching her side. She'd faced strong Shinigami before—back when she served under Baraggan—but this… this was beyond comprehension. Could any Shinigami wield such overwhelming reiatsu?
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upright.
"Get up! We can't let this threat live—not while His Majesty still reigns!"
The surviving Adjuchas stirred, dragging themselves from the sand. Though not individually elite, they shared a desperate tactic few Hollows dared attempt: a Synchronized Cero—a crude but potent fusion of their spiritual energies.
Akira narrowed his eyes. He knew Adjuchas weren't easily finished off. One was manageable. But six channeling their reiatsu in unison? That demanded caution.
"Oh? Still fighting?"
He didn't flinch.
"Fine. Let's settle this."
Gripping his zanpakutō with both hands, Akira raised it high. From the barren dunes of Hueco Mundo, a golden radiance erupted—pure, blinding, and humming with lethal intent. To Nelliel, it was mesmerizing… and terrifying. The light wasn't just beautiful—it was judgment incarnate.
"Synchronized Cero!" Charlotte roared.
A swirling vortex of black-and-crimson energy coalesced above them, then lanced forward like a comet of annihilation.
"Watch out!" Nelliel cried, her heart hammering.
But Akira stood firm.
"Excalibur!"
A colossal blade of golden reiatsu tore through the sky, cleaving the incoming Cero in half before consuming it entirely. The resulting explosion shook the desert, sending shockwaves through the Hollows' domain.
Charlotte's eyes widened in horror.
"No—no way! Run!"
But the golden wave had already reached them—merciless, absolute. In an instant, it erased them from existence.
"BOOM!"
By the time the dust settled, the six Adjuchas Menos Grande lay motionless in the crater, their spiritual pressure extinguished, stripped of all will—and ability—to resist.
Akira exhaled slowly.
"One more strike."
He had already unleashed his full strength twice. This final blow would be no exception.
Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck watched from the ridge, arms crossed, eyes wide. She'd seen powerful Shinigami before—but never like this.
"How much reiatsu does he even have…?" she whispered.
Akira raised his blade.
"Excalibur!"
The third strike descended.
"BOOM!!!"
This time, there was no clash—only obliteration. A towering pillar of golden light erupted skyward, scouring the desert air. Sand vaporized. Hollows a kilometer away shrieked and fled. When the radiance faded, the crater had deepened into a chasm. The six Adjuchas? Gone. Not even ash remained.
Nelliel's expression grew conflicted.
A Shinigami wiping out six Adjuchas in three swings… Is that power a blessing—or a harbinger of ruin for Hueco Mundo?
But Akira wasn't thinking about consequences. He was assessing his own limits.
"I used the full release of Excalibur—Sword of the Oath of Victory three times…" he murmured. "And I've barely tapped half my reiatsu."
He knew the exact output. At this rate, channeling Excalibur as a sustained beam—like a light cannon—would be trivial. His body had become a mobile fortress of destruction.
"Go back, Nel," he said, sheathing his zanpakutō.
Nelliel nodded and stepped forward, placing her hand in his. But just as their fingers touched, Akira's posture snapped rigid.
"Careful," he warned, eyes narrowing at the white forest beyond the craters. "Another immense reiatsu is approaching."
"Huh?" Nelliel scanned the dunes. "I don't sense anything…"
And she shouldn't have. The white trees swayed gently—home to the sweet fruits she sometimes gathered. No Menos Grande nests. No trace of Hollow activity.
Yet from that stillness, a figure emerged.
Tall. Lean. Clad in white. A hollow mask fragment curved over his left eye like a porcelain tear.
Nelliel's breath caught. Impossible… I didn't sense him at all.
That alone meant he was at least on par with her in her prime.
But Akira sensed him instantly… His reiatsu perception is terrifyingly precise.
"Yes," Akira replied coolly to the newcomer. "I fired that attack. Got a problem with it?"
The Arrancar didn't answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if savoring a memory.
"It was… beautiful," he said softly. "Truly beautiful."
Akira froze.
No one described apocalyptic power like that—not with reverence, not with awe. And yet… he understood.
Excalibur's light—golden, relentless—was magnificent. It was "a fierce purity that pierces even the void of war-torn worlds." It wasn't just destruction. It was glory made manifest—the dream of every warrior who ever drew steel.
"I was drawn here," the Arrancar continued, voice quiet but unwavering, "because I've never seen anything so overwhelming… and so sublime."
Then it clicked.
Akira recalled the whispers from intelligence reports: an Arrancar who, after losing nearly all his senses in evolution, had his vision sharpened to an unnatural extreme. To him, beauty wasn't subjective—it was absolute. And he sought it with monastic devotion.
"You're… Ulquiorra Cifer," Akira said.