11 Checkmate: Zommari's Silent Assault
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In the wake of the Toque de Entropía, the very air seemed to shudder, echoing the shock of the remaining Espada who had witnessed the impossible unraveling of their deadliest attacks.
Grimmjow, a picture of fierce resolve till now, bore an expression of utter disbelief, his cerulean eyes wide in stunned silence. His Gran Rey Cero, a force that had razed battlefields, had been sapped of its life force and reduced to nothing more than a feeble glimmer of light.
The realization of his mightiest attack crumbling under his enemy's gaze felt like a punch to his gut. His usually assertive voice faltered, "How...? My Gran Rey Cero...?"
Nelliel, her usual calm demeanor replaced with surprise, watched in disbelief as the remnants of her Lanzador Verde fell around her, the vibrant energy that once commanded awe now no more than harmless fragments.
Her strong, noble features were marred with confusion and shock as she tried to comprehend the reality of her weapon's breakdown, "My Lanzador Verde, destroyed just... like that?"
But the battlefield's attention was redirected by the frenzied charge of Esteban, honing in on the battered Nnoitra.
Despite the chaos, and the shock, Nnoitra had remained standing. Even in his shredded state, his eyes bore a maniacal gleam. Yet even his formidable resolve faltered as Esteban charged towards him, a clear intent to kill glinting in his eyes.
The silence that had descended upon the battlefield was abruptly broken by the frenzied rush of Esteban towards Nnoitra, who, amidst the chaos and shock, had somehow managed to stay standing, a testament to his relentless spirit.
Nnoitra, his body battered and torn from the Campo del Caos and his Hierro barely hanging on, was still very close to Esteban.
His massive weapon, too, was suffering, its structure buckling under the pressure of the accelerated entropy, "You think... I'm done...?", Nnoitra gasped out, his voice barely a whisper, yet there was a certain defiance.
Esteban, his heart pounding and every fiber of his being screaming from exertion, moved with a speed and determination that belied his exhaustion. His primal instincts roared to the forefront, propelling him towards his prey. It was a sight to behold, a frenzied, deadly dance of a predator closing in on its wounded prey.
With a final burst of strength, Esteban closed the gap between them, his hand shooting out to clutch at Nnoitra's face. The Espada had no time to react, his body moving sluggishly from the effects of Esteban's attacks. Esteban's hand found its mark, and he gripped Nnoitra, his nails digging into the Espada's skin.
Esteban felt the rush of energy as he consumed Nnoitra's soul, the power rejuvenating him, "Your soul is mine now!", He declared, his voice echoing the finality of Nnoitra's demise.
"No... it can't... end...", Nnoitra choked out his final words, his voice trailing off into silence as his form crumbled under Esteban's touch.
His touch was a death sentence, a final verdict delivered without a trial. Nnoitra's eyes widened as he felt his life force being siphoned off, the energy that had kept him standing draining rapidly.
His body began to crumble, decay spreading from the point of contact. His attempts to fight back were futile, his weapon disintegrating under the influence of Esteban's entropy.
The once mighty Nnoitra, feared among the Espada for his relentless strength and formidable Hierro, met his end in the grip of Esteban. As the life left him, his body began to disintegrate, his form crumbling into the spiritual particles that composed him.
Esteban felt the surge of energy as he consumed Nnoitra's soul. The energy of the fallen Espada seeped into him, refueling his depleted reserves and granting him an iota of strength to continue the fight.
As Esteban stood, the echoes of Nnoitra's soul coursing through him, a sense of relief washed over him. The battlefield was a grim tableau of the havoc he had wreaked and for a moment, he believed he had gained the upper hand. But in the lull of the battle, a figure, previously unnoticed, emerged from the ground.
Zommari Rureaux, the master of Sonido, chose this moment to strike. He had been quietly observing, patiently biding his time. Esteban had overlooked him amidst the chaos, dismissing him as no significant threat.
With a burst of movement, Zommari dashed towards Esteban, using his most advanced Sonido technique: Gemelos Sonído. As his form blurred, he multiplied, creating up to five quasi-clones of himself, all of them aimed at Esteban.
Esteban's eyes widened as he realized Zommari's intent. Each of the clones were so realistic, even to the point of bleeding, they were indistinguishable from the original. Zommari had effectively created a smokescreen, his attack originating from multiple directions at once.
Barely having time to react, Esteban found himself in the crosshairs of Zommari's onslaught. Each clone was charging at him, their movements precise and their intent deadly.
Esteban was cornered and desperately trying to muster up the last of his energy to defend himself. His breath came in ragged gasps, the grueling battle having taken its toll. As Zommari's clones closed in, Esteban felt an acute sense of dread. Death was once again looming over him.
In his dire state, a spike of adrenaline coursed through him. His instincts screamed at him to evade, but his body was far too exhausted to keep up. He was utterly spent, and at the mercy of the Espada.
But just as Zommari was about to land the final blow, just when Esteban's life hung in the balance for the second time, a peculiar sensation gripped him. His body quivered, his reiatsu flickered erratically, and then, just as the tip of Zommari's blade was inches away from piercing his heart, time seemed to slow down.
His spiritual pressure, which was waning dangerously low, suddenly spiked. A surge of power erupted from him, a manifestation of his desperate will to survive. His body glowed, a brilliant, iridescent light radiating from him. It was the dawn of his third and final unique Hollow ability.
