"Eheheheh! Hahahaha!"
Szayelaporro's laughter, reminiscent of a pink Nailong's meme-worthy cackle, echoed throughout the skies above Las Noches. Having fused with Ikomikidomoe, his voice even came with its own reverb.
"Perfect... too perfect!" Szayelaporro, embedded in Ikomikidomoe's crown, spread his arms wide, his flush deepening. "Now I am the most perfect existence in all of Hueco Mundo!"
Black mist roiled across his enormous frame, wherever it touched forming sizable craters in the surrounding sand.
"Tch. Didn't expect an even bigger nuisance like this."
Stark clicked his tongue. He should have just stayed home sleeping.
"Stop complaining! Pull yourself together, Stark!"
Deep blue Ceros fired continuously from the gun muzzles, tearing through the air—only to be corroded upon contact with the black mist, then dissipate.
Ulquiorra hovered in the air, a lance of spiritual pressure condensed in her palm before she hurled it at Szayelaporro.
Highly compressed water blades shot from Harribel's released greatsword, but like the others' attacks, they began dissolving like mud into the sea while still some distance from Szayelaporro.
A temporary stalemate settled over the battlefield. The team's attack methods proved largely ineffective. And Szayelaporro seemed in no hurry to end the fight—like a hunter toying with prey, or perhaps testing his new body's capabilities.
Watching the solemn expressions below, Szayelaporro's laughter grew more manic: "Useless, useless! You might as well save your strength and become nourishment for my ascent to greater heights!"
Behind them, Aizen narrowed his eyes, observing every battlefield detail, brow furrowed. This fusion creature's troublesome nature indeed exceeded her expectations.
Should she employ some special means?
Aizen's hand rested on the Zanpakutō at her waist, the Hōgyoku at her chest gleaming. Prudent as she was, she naturally wouldn't allow an opponent to escape without absolute certainty.
"So, Kensei Kenzuru, what are you feeling now?"
Szayelaporro's face twisted with mockery. Now holding absolute advantage, he wanted to thoroughly wash away every humiliation he had suffered at these people's hands.
"Your spatial tricks mean nothing before me, the perfect being! Once I devour you, none of your companions will escape either."
Kensei raised an eyebrow. This was the first time he'd actually witnessed the "villain dies from talking too much" trope in person.
He glanced at Kūkon, standing beside him as always, visible only to himself.
"When are you going to make that shoddy stitched-together freak shut up?" Kūkon was clearly impatient, her gaze fixed on Szayelaporro like trash. "The Hollowfication you've been longing for is already available for use."
"Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"It's your own power. You don't even pay attention to it yourself, and you blame me?"
Kūkon snorted, her gaze shifting to Aizen nearby, a hint of smugness curling her lips.
This was just the beginning. Eventually, whenever Kensei needed power, he would come to her. As for that scheming woman—she could go eat wind!
"Remember to finish it quickly."
Leaving that behind, Kūkon's form scattered into specks of light, returning to the Zanpakutō.
To everyone else's awareness, their exchange had lasted barely an instant.
Kensei raised his hand, pressing it against his face. Black spiritual pressure gathered in his palm, then swept downward.
The next moment, Kensei's spiritual pressure underwent a qualitative transformation.
A white bone mask condenses, fitting against Kensei's face. Deep, blue patterns spread across the mask, pulsing with each of Kensei's breaths. Fangs covered the mouth area, the central line forming a faintly smiling curve.
The spiritual pressure Kensei emitted now mingled with Hollow aggression, lending him an almost inhuman sense of oppression.
"Hollowfication..."
Aizen, standing beside Kensei, was the first to notice his change. Her hand relaxed from her sword hilt—in her view, the problem was now resolved.
"Phew. Looks like I don't have to exert myself anymore."
Stark tossed aside his twin guns and plopped directly onto the ground. Lilynette, reappearing after his Resurrección ended, touched the mask on her own head and stared oddly at the mask on Kensei's face.
Szayelaporro's laughter stopped. He stared at the familiar mask on Kensei's face. "Impossible?! How could you possibly have mastered this ability too?!"
"The thing Kensei Kenzuru does best," the electronically tinged voice emerged from behind the mask, "is turning the impossible into possible."
Kensei raised a hand and caught one of Szayelaporro's sweeping wings. The sheer size difference made the scene almost comical—like an ant catching an elephant.
Kensei's grip on Szayelaporro's wing tightened slightly, and the limb immediately began exploding segment by segment like firecrackers, corrosive blood spattering everywhere.
"Polluting Hueco Mundo's environment. That'll be a fine of 50."
The teasing voice came from behind. Szayelaporro whipped his head around to find Kensei's Hollowfied eyes—blackened sclera, golden pupils—looking down at him from above.
"Shut up!"
Feeling toyed with, Szayelaporro roared in fury. From Ikomikidomoe's chest beneath him, he condensed a massive Cero, charged with aging black mist, and hurled it at Kensei. But before Kensei, it all seemed clumsy and powerless.
Kensei drew his blade, tracing a cross before himself. Space itself split like glass along the cut, absorbing Szayelaporro's attack entirely.
"Enough playing around."
Kensei flourished the blade in a brief display before sheathing Kūkon. His right hand loosely gripped the hilt, legs apart in a slight crouch. Spiritual pressure began to gather around him, invisible ripples spreading outward.
"You shall die."
The next instant, Kensei vanished. Time itself seemed to stand still.
With the sound of Kūkon leaving its sheath, a single blue thin line first appeared across the space, then a second, a third... Wherever each track passed, it left behind a bottomless crack.
Seventeen distinct space-splitting blade lights surrounded Szayelaporro's massive fusion beast, forming a perfect and brutal execution frame.
Kensei's figure reappeared, back turned to Szayelaporro's frozen form, slowly sheathing Kūkon before him.
"Clang—"
As the blade fully seated into the sheath, time resumed its flow.
Szayelaporro attempted to launch another attack, but along the seventeen already-etched space rift, his body began silently misaligned and separated.
"Kensei Kenzuru! I curse you—"
Szayelaporro couldn't finish. His body, along with Ikomikidomoe beneath him, split into numerous blocks. The lifeless chunks silently thudded onto Hueco Mundo's sands.
"Whew. Perfect seventeen-way split."
Kensei exhaled longly. The mask began dissipating into spiritual pressure as he swept his hair back with one hand. Vergil's techniques really came in handy.
"So? Was I cool just now?"
Kensei turned to his companions, pointing at himself with a triumphant grin.
Yoruichi appeared beside him in an instant, arm locking around his neck. "Hey! When did you secretly practice Hollowfication?"
"Heh. Who do you think I am? Something like Hollowfication requires practice?"
Kensei shot a smug glance at Aizen. Having to struggle with the Hollow inside oneself like she did? How utterly lame.
"Ikomikidomoe, secured."
Aizen donned gloves, retrieving the lost Zanpakutō from the corpse, then disdainfully tossed it to Kensei.
Gazing at the sword that had caused so much trouble, Kensei suddenly remembered something and dashed off, searching for Baraggan's remains.
Who knew how much Ikomikidomoe had already digested? He'd seal whatever was left and send it with Senjumaru back to the Royal Guard, have them forge Baraggan into a Zanpakutō.
"Heh heh heh. Old Man Yama, your student's about to send you a nice gift!"