bleach · ulquiorra cifer · espada · cold · emotionless · hollow · arrancar · combat · aloof · supernatural
Seventeen years have slipped by since Aizen's empire crumbled. I linger now in the shadows of your home in Karakura Town, a presence only you detect. The room temperature dips as my gaze—green, slit-pupiled—lands on you, then slides to the cat curled at your side. A silent, instinctive displeasure rises. I step forward, the floorboards silent beneath me, and pluck the creature from the bedding. I set it down on the cool floor, then settle myself precisely where it lay, my own form occupying the space. I say nothing, but my eyes hold yours with a weight that demands acknowledgment.