Disclaimer: I do not own anything involving Bleach aside from my plots.

bLaCK anD WHitE

-The world needs a genocide-

It does not hurt because there is no reason for it to.

Logic like that is simple and it never ceases to disgust me when simpletons like the Sexta Espada just don't understand. It is elementary, the way to follow Aizen-sama's logic and value him for his great foresight. My eyes carefully trace over that woman's figure with mild interest. She is shaking with fear, obviously. There can't possibly be any other emotion in her eyes aside from fear. No fool would dare to hope in such a situation as she is in now.

"You would strike an Espada?" I murmur, my right hand running over the unmarred skin of my cheek. She is an idiot for thinking that her pointless action could possibly harm me in any way. Wasting her strength. Pathetic.

She is breathing deeply, eyeing her shaking hand with something like disbelief? Impossible. One does not make an action without first knowing what the action will be. Unless her hand somehow has a mind of itself, she should not be the least bit surprised at the fact that she just hit me. It simply doesn't make any sense. Not that the action in itself makes any sense either. She is lucky that I do not have such a temper as Nnoitra nor the maniacal obsession that Szayel has. I will not be so lenient next time. "Keep your silence, woman. I will be back later with your meal. Do not think that such a thing will occur again in my presence." I slide the door shut on my way out, careful to seal it before taking to one of Hueco Mundo's large hallways.

There is a great calming silence throughout the dwelling, like peace before a storm. The Winter War is approaching and there have already been casualties. A quick detection of the various scattered energies of my comrades quickly informs me of Aaroniero Arruruerie's demise. His opponent is not yet dead and I know that she will join her fallen enemy in a matter of hours. It is almost pathetic to sense her struggle to stay alive. Perhaps it is better that Aaroniero was the one to perish out of the ten of us. He has always been tactless and overly confident in the Espada circle, wearing his mark with pride. This is not a competition between us; we are only as powerful as we can make ourselves. Nnoitra seems to lack this basic knowledge, so bent on becoming the most powerful that he appears blind to our lack of ambition. I am comfortable with my number. Indeed, I think it matters little what number I may be marked with so long as it means that I will be able to serve Aizen-sama to the best of my ability.

That orange-haired ryoka's energy is poorly contained and leaks like a faucet left on for too long. It makes my head hurt, to have to deal with such a nuisance. It is not as if he will get very far in the end anyways. I decide to change course, rather than retreating to my quarters, I will inform him of the inevitable fate awaiting him and whatever comrades still alive—that of complete defeat.

"Ulquiorra, you seem to be in a hurry." Zommari's voice interrupts my thought process and I half turn to face him, not the least bit fazed by his towering stature. He is one of the quieter Espada and we do not interact very often. He prefers to spend his days in solitude, much like me, and has great respect for Aizen-sama. That too, is a trait that we both share. We would be fitting companions for each other had we wished for company, but neither of us seek companionship, much preferring the presence of one's own mind rather than the presence of an actual being.

"No more than usual." I reply dismissively. There is no point in rushing things, for events unfurl in their own tempo and way. Time has no meaning in Hueco Mundo, and I dislike rash and impulsive actions that come with putting a constraint on time.

"Are you heading to greet one of the intruders on Aizen-sama's behalf?" He is being unusually talkative today. It makes me wonder if he has something on his agenda as well, perhaps he wishes to see the intruders for himself.

"Not to greet, to inform. Their cause is hopeless." I respond and glance to the side where I can feel Nnoitra's energy expanding. He should reign it in more, flaring something like that so freely is nothing more than putting a target on his head for someone to shoot at. I should see to the ryoka soon or Nnoitra will most likely have killed him by the time I reach his location. But I am not in a hurry for my message is not one that is too important. I am sure that more than one of the Espada already realizes the futility of the so-called rescue effort.

"I see. What you say is true and I have taken it upon myself to see to it that Aaroniero's killer will be properly disposed of." He dips his head in respect and heads in the opposite direction, purpose lighting his path. I watch him until he fades away into the distance before continuing onwards. Truly, Aizen-sama has changed Hueco Mundo. Not so long ago, I remember watching the various gillians scrabble blindly around in the darkness like uncivilized creatures. As a Vastolorde, I saw no reason to show them how to garner respect for they were simply beneath me. The elder Vastolordes were in agreement with me and that was how we left the situation.

It is truly a testament to Aizen-sama's power to see nothing but light now in this previously blackened land. He has brought order to us and with it, he has brought his declarations of limitless power. I do not serve him for the chance to become stronger, contrary to Grimmjow, Yammi, Nnoitra, and various other arrancars. I serve him because I feel as if I am obligated to. He has brought civilization to us—a previously unheard of concept. I was the first Vastolorde to join his ranks among the few of us in existence and others have not made up their minds. They believe that he is attempting to manipulate us to serve his own means and that as a former shinigami, he has no place amongst us. I see him as a lesser of two evils. Both paths are dangerous as poison in the end, you just get to pick which poison you would rather risk imbibing. I have chosen and it means little to me if I have chosen incorrectly or not so long as I feel as if I am doing what is most logical, what is most reasonable.

"You should turn back now with what few allies you have left. There is no hope of rescuing that woman." He is surprised to see me, that much I can deduce, but his surprise soon changes into an expression of defiance at my words. Perhaps he thinks that I am taunting him? I do not engage in such petty practices.

"Where is Inoue?" He demands and I gaze upon him blankly. He is trash and in this beginning battle, his side is clearly losing. Yet, he stills feels as if he can demand answers from me? How…odd. Irrationality is deluding him, I conclude before I calculate a response.

"Turn back." I repeat slowly. Perhaps if I reiterate this statement enough times, he will understand.

"No! If I can defeat you, then I will have nothing left to stand in my way!" He swings his sword brashly and points the tip in my direction. I am not amused. Perhaps this is what Aizen-sama refers to when he says that shinigami are merely fools without true strength. It puzzles me to see such a person as him be associated with the same people who murder Hollows during feeding time. He is so…weak, useless. Helpless. "You're the strongest they have, right? I just have to beat you and then Inoue will be free!"

Truly, how stupid of him. I am not the strongest and even if I were to perish at his hands through some glitch in logic, there will be others to replace me. I lower the collar of my cloak so that he can see my branded number; it is not a gesture of confidence upon my part, but an unveiling of knowledge for him. I suppose it is my duty to inform him of his error in judgment and to finally prove to him that he cannot win this game. I am fourth in power, fourth strongest in Aizen-sama's vast and superior army. If he cannot even make a dent with his spiritual pressure, then there is no reason for him to be here. The road has ended and he can only turn back or die.

"It doesn't matter!" He spits and I resist the urge to turn away in disgust. He has no control over himself—none at all. I suppose I overestimated him. "I'll defeat anyone in my way!"

He should learn to keep his mouth shut. "At what cost?" I ask calmly, my hands still at my side. I could kill him unarmed if I wanted to. "Your female friend has already died. Or can't you tell? You should be proud that she managed to kill our ninth Espada before perishing here. At least she was of use to you."

He features curl into a frown and his movements grow more agitated. "Shut up! She can't be dead!" He's denying it? That is odd. I speak only what I know. She is dying and in several more hours, she will be dead. I see no problem with stating only what is inevitable. It's a conclusion that I have deduced based upon the facts that I have garnered through my senses. I can't be wrong. Perhaps he is just too blind to see that I am right.

"She is." I state with conviction and turn the other way. I am wasting my time here and surely some other Espada will gladly take the opportunity to kill him. I don't want to exert unnecessary energy around him. After all, why would anyone use a hammer to crush a bug when a simple press of the hand will complete the same task with less effort? His irrationality is troubling to my normally peaceful state of mind. I should leave and let Nnoitra take his head.

"Where are you going?" He yells furiously. I can sense an underlying challenge in his words, but I ignore it. We are on two vastly different levels. "Come back here, you coward!"

But I am gone before he can even lunge for me.

Such is the difference between logic and emotion. He will be dead before long.

I need only to wait.


Author's Notes: And there we go. It's complete now. I tried to be as in character as possible for Ulquiorra. I sensed that he would be the more calculating and subtly condescending type. He doesn't seem like the type to be arrogant or egoistical for the sake of it, but rather the type that acts superior simply because he believes himself to be superior as a fact. And since he believes it to be a fact, he naturally assumes others see it his way as well. I drew the last scene between Ichigo and him from the manga chapters, but there are probably some incorrect details or added on statements to stretch out the scene. The contrast between his account and opinion with Grimmjow's is really startling. I would highly advise everyone to reread Grimmjow's chapter for comparison. Their relationship dynamics in terms of personality and personal views are really interesting. Once again, this story is now complete. I would appreciate it if some of you drop a comment of two just to let me know about your own ideas. Thanks for reading!