Zommari smirked as he began moving even faster, his speed reaching the upper echelon of the lower Sin... and started to reach the Sin level. More precisely, he was now matching the Sin of Greed's speed.
Every other Sin would and could have blitzed him. Aaroniero was by far the weakest, and he meant the weakest Sin by a long, long shot. He was still stronger than anyone in his group, though, so there was that.
He had a shit ton of potential. He could be the strongest if given enough time and Hollows to cultivate. Give it, like, fifty years, and he should roughly be somewhere in the top five. Mind you, there were seven Sins... so do with that info what you want.
Zommari began speeding up once more.
He weaved in and out of sight, flickering like a ghost around Lázaro, striking with surgical precision. Each time Lázaro tried to react, another afterimage replaced his target.
Zommari was in his element.
That was until Lázaro got bored. Like, come on, who wanted to chase shadows all day?
Lázaro let out an exaggerated yawn mid-dodge, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're fast. We all get it. You done jerking yourself off yet?"
Zommari scowled. "Insolent fool! My speed is—"
"—All you got," Lázaro cut in, cracking his neck. "You ain't a threat. You're a fuckin' mosquito."
That did it.
Zommari's expression darkened. His eyes gleamed with irritation.
"Amar."
Lázaro's left arm twitched. Then, suddenly—his own blade turned against him, slashing straight for his throat.
Squelch.
His head hit the ground, rolling a few feet away.
Silence.
Zommari exhaled, dusting his hands off. "Pitiful."
Then—
Laughter.
Deep, hearty, mad laughter.
Lázaro's severed head grinned, his voice carrying through the arena. "Hahahaha! Okay, okay, now that... that's actually interesting."
As blood kept pouring out of his body—since, you know, his head had been cut off—Lázaro couldn't help himself. He laughed. He found this whole situation quite funny.
This was fun, but it was about time he ended this. After all, he was one of the strongest Lesser Sins, while Zommari was, well... a new recruit.
Lázaro would teach him a few lessons.
His body moved on its own, taking a step forward as green, sickly energy pulsed through the air.
Zommari's smirk faltered. Well, who wouldn't? His fucking headless body was moving on its own. He even started hitting the boogey, breakdancing even.
He was not taking this seriously.
Then, with speed visible to the naked eye, Lázaro's body blurred toward his own head, snatching it up with his remaining hand. He plopped it back onto his neck as if putting on a hat, his head snapping into place as black tendrils of energy stitched the wound together.
He flexed his fingers, testing the movement.
Then he cracked his neck—grinning wide. "Alright, now I'm interested."
He ran his tongue over his teeth.
"Let's play."
Lázaro raised his blade.
"Consume and Covet."
At the same moment, Zommari took a step back, releasing his own blade.
"Suppress, Brujería."
As Zommari's form exploded into a grotesque display of eyes covering his body, Lázaro underwent his own transformation.
His entire body became a shifting, fluid mass of obsidian-black Reishi, covered in glowing emerald etchings—like a Hollow version of a living ouroboros, constantly devouring and regenerating itself. His arms stretched into razor-sharp claws, his fanged grin extending unnaturally, stretching like a beast whose mouth was too big for its face. His mask markings expanded, covering half his face like a jagged crown.
His legs morphed into powerful, animalistic talons, allowing him to lunge and strike at impossible angles.
But most disturbingly—his Hollow hole expanded, stretching across his entire torso like an endless void.
A bottomless pit of stolen power.
He let out a slow breath, his voice dripping with hunger.
"Zommari... let's see what you taste like."
The man was ready for this. He would show him that his speed was nothing short of a joke.
In his Resurrección state, he was a threat. While maybe Zommari could now control his whole body and all that shit...
In Lázaro's Resurrección state, he had gained a nifty skill. While in his base form, the abilities he took were only temporary.
In this form, he could stack them on top of each other. So, like, currently, he had access to every ability he had ever copied. The speed, strength, and durability of very strong Hollows that he may or may not have stolen some shit from.
Yet, he wanted more. He wanted more power. If only he could copy Belial... or even his—hm. His greed was great, but he was no idiot. If his body was too weak when he tried that, he would just implode the second he copied him.
So, better to have some more realistic goals. Something like Belial or Grimmjow. Maybe Nell? No, her authority made her way too freaking busted. Plus, she was one of His Majesty's favorites. Couldn't do that.
His Majesty's favorites included Sun-Sun, Harribel, Nell, Belial, Starrk, Luciel, Apacci, Mila Rose, and some male scientist who helped with his research. And apparently, the new Sin of Sloth—his name was, like, Ulquiorra or something. He heard he was hella strong.
He would be fighting today. Maybe he'd get to see it in action...
A/N