"How, did I end up here?"
Grimmjow asked himself, eyes fixed on the cracked, shadowy ceiling of Hueco Mundo.
The sand beneath his Adjuchas body was still warm. The metallic taste of blood still lingered in his mouth.
What happened...?
Not long ago, he was...
...Ah.
He remembered.
He had been facing that aberration... the damned ancient Hollow: Ikomikidomoe.
---
\[Moments earlier]
The courtyard had been transformed into a vast desert as a result of the ensuing battle. Grimmjow stood before Ikomikidomoe, his breath shallow and uneven; and yet, he was smiling.
"So that's all you've got?" His body was covered in scars.
"For someone so small, you're rather cunning," the giant Hollow Ogama growled mockingly at Grimmjow, who had already released his Resurrección long before.
And he wasn't alone; Halibel, Neliel, and the other Arrancars were also fighting Ikomikidomoe. Each of them was wounded to some degree.
Beside him, the two Queens of Hueco Mundo were gasping, bodies lacerated, not that Grimmjow cared — his full focus was on his enemy.
He already knew it, but it was now clear how much of an aberration Ikomikidomoe truly was — embodying the advantages of all three Menos classes: Gillian, Adjuchas, and Vasto Lorde, with the deepest and most consolidated spiritual energy. Despite his massive frame, he used Sonido effortlessly, its echo sounding like the nightmare wail of a Nue.
And thus, he resumed the fight.
With a speed so unstoppable, he appeared right in front of them; and dove into his claws with the force of a katana.
"GAH!"
"GRIMMJOW!"
The Centaur's voice rang out with clear concern as Grimmjow evaded, his bone plates sliced and hot blood pouring, soaking his chest. His Kurosaki-given scar itched like never before.
"Grrr... damn you!" With a burst of strength, he bit the rival's limb and tore a chunk off with his fangs — but it was pointless, thanks to the enemy's overwhelming advantage.
Even dodging and retaliating, Ikomikidomoe consumed surrounding Reishi and regenerated instantly, closing wounds immediately.
But even at this disadvantage—
"I'm the king." Grimmjow repeated — his eternal vow. And he charged again, with explosive Sonido bursts and the spiked detonators from his forearms aimed to destroy his enemy.
This was blocked by the avalanche of Menos spawned by the giant Ogama, forming his protective barrier.
"Well said, young Arrancar..."
Ikomikidomoe's voice echoed from the depths behind the defense. "A brat like you ruling Hueco Mundo? Ha ha ha!"
Despite his wounds, Grimmjow laughed at those words, baring his fangs. "I don't give a damn what you think. I'll kill anyone in my way and devour them afterward."
He wouldn't give up. The memories of his past were what drove his primal instinct in this brutal fight.
— 'Let's go together, Grimmjow.'
— 'You'll become our king.'
Every time Grimmjow got close to his rival, his tendons stretched, his muscles contracted — it was evident. This Hollow before him was dangerous. The creature's Adjuchas aspect, masked by the spiritual pressure of a high-class Hollow, was deeply irritating.
Grimmjow understood all of this.
Sharpening his reiatsu, he lunged again.
And again, his comrades' voices were heard, even through the blood in his ears.
'We've come to terms with not surpassing the Adjuchas level. But you're destined for something far greater.'
Grimmjow took another step forward.
The thought of losing vanished from his mind. He understood, however, that this was no opponent to defeat easily; in fact, if he wasn't careful, his own head would roll.
But Grimmjow never stopped moving.
After all, this was an internal Shinigami conflict; he would never be their foot soldier. Grimmjow came here of his own will.
Because he knew. A trivial reason was enough to turn the world against him, given his path. That was his sole purpose in fighting this Hollow — Ikomikidomoe. To ordinary people, it would seem ridiculous. When he was dominated by Aizen's overwhelming presence, even his desires were suppressed.
But during his battle with Kurosaki Ichigo, the words of his ex-comrades resurfaced. Words that, if ignored, would deny his very existence and bloodlust.
'Devour us, Grimmjow.'
The voice of his comrades echoed in his head; those who called him king and then gave up their own path to evolution. They, who once became his own flesh and blood, now reignited Grimmjow's beastly instincts.
"WHOEVER IT IS, I'LL KILL AND DEVOUR THEM! I'M THE KING!"
With a roar that shook the atmosphere and sent chills through the nearby Arrancars, Grimmjow leapt, claws soaked in his own blood.
"GRAN REY CERO!"
And with an explosive blast like a warhead, the battle resumed.
Nearby, Halibel — the true ruler of Hueco Mundo, and one who understood Grimmjow's nature — never considered herself its queen precisely because of Grimmjow's claim. She knew that once Grimmjow regained his fangs, he would reclaim his instinct to kill. Even if he lost, he would still sink his fangs into his opponent. She feared that if she claimed the throne, Grimmjow would challenge her — and in a battle between them, even if she won, his fangs would bring her down.
Aizen's words to Grimmjow returned:
"Do not deny your desires."
Back on the battlefield, Grimmjow leapt over the scorched giant Hollow, his face feral and hungry, ready to plunder and destroy.
His roar echoed as he tore his way toward the aberration that was Ikomikidomoe.
This wasn't merely a battle — to Grimmjow, it was a trial of destiny as "King." He would kill and devour the enemy ahead.
And with that resolve, he faced Ikomikidomoe.
To hell with the world's fate.
To hell with the Shinigami.
This moment, here and now, was all he cared about. One more chance to prove his rightful throne.
But Grimmjow wasn't alone in this fight.
All the Arrancars had joined forces to bring down their enemy and brother.
Dordoni's tornadoes.
Nelliel's Lanza.
Halibel's waters.
Cirucci's blades.
Even the Quincies had joined to paralyze him.
All to bring about this moment.
Where a rain of explosive fire fell on Ikomikidomoe's body and lit up the tornados and rose vines sealing the paralyzed Hollow.
In that moment, above the bloodstained sky, Grimmjow stood, prepared to fight.
"Now it's my turn to hunt."
Grimmjow channeled reiatsu into both hands, forming five Reishi slashes in each. It felt strangely nostalgic and uplifting. In the past, he often fought alone — but maybe it was the instinct of a beast to hunt in packs. Like his fallen comrades who once called him "King." Grimmjow didn't linger on the thought. He prepared to strike.
"Desgarrón."
But not alone. Luppi, standing behind him, shouted:
"That's *my* line, Grimmjow!"
His eight 'Creeper' tendrils bathed in reiatsu. The two shouted in unison:
"I'll destroy you!"
As immense reiatsu began to gather in front of Ikomikidomoe, he tried to create a shield of flesh using his multiplication ability — but froze. Ikomikidomoe was baffled by the paralysis. He couldn't move, nor use his powers. Then a voice was heard. One who had hidden until now.
"It took some time to make adjustments... but now I can alter your reiatsu easily. You gave me plenty of time to observe."
"..?"
"You thought I was just some subordinate, didn't you? And you underestimated me. If Nakk Le Vaar were here, he'd probably say..."
Raising his fingers, NaNaNa Najahkoop, former Sternritter "U", smiled.
Even Ikomikidomoe's vocal cords were paralyzed as "Lower Belly" was used on him; thus, he couldn't even scream. As the letter "U" embedded in his body, all resistance was completely wiped out.
Grimmjow's "Desgarrón" and Luppi Antenor's "Octuple Gran Rey Cero."
Both attacks — colored with the death aspect of *Destruction* — were fired at the same moment.
BOOOOOM.
Any other being hit by such force would've been obliterated. Only a crater would remain.
But the sight before them was different:
On the ground.
"The bastard's still alive! Damn it!" Grimmjow said in shock.
Ikomikidomoe's body was now nearly shattered and scattered. Yet he groaned.
"You... bastards... I... will... return... my true name..."
"I don't know what you're trying to say, but I'll end this now." Grimmjow pierced his palm with his claws, preparing to fire a Gran Rey Cero with his mixed blood to finish the Hollow's life. But before he could fire — a voice came from nearby.
"Your name... is already there."
Upon hearing Hikone's voice — the hybrid who had released the monster — everyone became instantly alert.
"Ikomikidomoe, you are my zanpakuto."
Ikomikidomoe's voice trembled in fear at Hikone's innocent smile.
"That name... shout it..." Ignoring the old Hollow's plea, Hikone thanked everyone present.
"Thank you very much! Now let me weaken you, Ikomikidomoe!"
Grimmjow frowned. He didn't understand Hikone's words. This hybrid was an enigma. A stranger who reminded him of that damned Kurosaki.
Hovering above, Hikone called out the full name:
"Ikomikidomoe Hououraku Hakkei."
The creature's remains began to crumble as light enveloped Hikone's body.
In the next moment, the creature became a pure white katana in Hikone's hands. His face now bore Hollow traits. Clad in a shihakusho with Hollow shadows crawling over his skin, Hikone resembled an Arrancar.
A fusion of Shinigami and Hollow.
A blend of black and white; yin and yang.
Held by Hikone, the pure white zanpakuto developed black marks. Not just its appearance changed. As if all the missing pieces had come together, Hikone's reiatsu evolved completely to resemble the ancient one. Ikomikidomoe's reiatsu didn't just add to Hikone's — it became the key to unlocking the Gentei Kaijo placed upon his body.
Those who sensed this unique reiatsu, though different from Aizen's, instinctively felt — not understood — that this child was indeed fit to be the Rei-Ō.
"Well, see you later!"
Despite his overwhelming power, Hikone's personality and gender ambiguity hadn't changed. He was about to leave when a voice interrupted.
"Don't play dumb with me, brat. I was planning to take both of you down anyway." Grimmjow sneered, baring his fangs. He was ready. This was why he came. Killing them fused would be further proof of his strength.
"Ah, Lord Grimmjow, my current battle is with Kenpachi-san, so I can't fight you righ—" Before he could finish, a Cero was launched at his face, absorbed by his zanpakuto. The attacker was obvious.
"I already told you — I DON'T CARE! RAAAAAGH!" With a furious leap and a roar that stretched his bloody smile wide, the Hollow of destruction attacked without hesitation, Reishi beams and Desgarróns charging toward the hybrid.
However—
"How sad, I'm sorry. But I can't play with you... Grimmjow-san!"
Hikone's blade flashed for an instant as he flew past. In that silence, Grimmjow's body had already been split in two.
The bisected Grimmjow collapsed—
"Gah, D-Damn—GAH!" Before he could finish, hot blood gushed from his mouth like rain.
Grimmjow's body had been cleanly cut in a single breath — from neck to femur.
Then everything faded to black.
And the last thing the panther of Hueco Mundo heard was the scream of his fellow Arrancars and the Queens of Hueco Mundo:
"GRIMMJOOOOOOOW!"
---
"...So, I woke up here..."
The bone-plated panther growled as he staggered upright. His paws trembled. He still felt the cold steel ripping his chest open and the searing pain of shattered organs and bones. But that wouldn't shake the king.
Grimmjow staggered forward, sand trailing off his bony back. His Adjuchas body wheezed, but the deepest pain was confusion. He stared at his claws — smaller, duller. His body wasn't the same. That form... was from before his evolution into an Arrancar.
"But... what...?"
A creature's roar in the distance cut off his thoughts. He turned instinctively, eyes narrowing across the dunes. The old predator instinct still pulsed in him. But something was strange — his memory, though clear, seemed disconnected from the world around him.
He remembered the cut.
The death.
And now… he was back.
In the heart of Hueco Mundo's desert. No scars. No hakama. No Arrancar power. As if he had never reached that form.
"...Someone's messing with me."
It wasn't a guess. It was a certainty. And Grimmjow didn't take kindly to jokes.
The spiritual energy around him was chaotic, raw — as if the desert had bent to a phenomenon beyond logic. Grimmjow dug his claws into the sand, trying to feel something — anything — to confirm this was real.
And he felt it.
Something watching him.
A Hollow — smaller, but hungry — emerged from the dunes. An Adjuchas... or maybe just a lost Gillian, trying to survive.
Grimmjow growled. The sound of his teeth snapping into place was comforting.
"If this is a nightmare... then I'll rip it apart."
He attacked.
With fury, instinct, bloodlust. Like the old days. No tactics. No analysis. Just destruction. The creature was devoured within seconds — and as the Reishi burned down his throat, something lit up inside him.
A memory.
Distant voices.
'Devour us, Grimmjow\...'
The same whisper of his old comrades. Those he devoured to evolve. But something was different this time. A presence that hadn't existed before, as if someone was stitching this return.
He spat on the ground.
"If this is some trick... if some bastard is testing me..."
A tremor ran through the earth, and Grimmjow looked down. He felt something in his chest.
Like prey... like a challenge.
And that was all he needed.
"If I'm back in this hell... then I'll rise again. And this time, I'll rip the throat out of whoever's behind it."
And so, the panther began to run. His steps sank into the sand, his eyes burned with ancient fury. Maybe the gods were playing with him. Maybe it was a second chance. But it didn't matter.
He was Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.
And he would always choose to fight.