The moonlight fractured in a flare of crimson. Without thought, your towering body lurched forward—instinct twisting like a storm inside you. A raw, primal surge burned in your chest, and without reason, without command, a Cero burst forth.

The beam screamed across the desert, tearing through the night as it raced straight for Tier Harribel.

She didn’t flinch.

With a swift motion, Harribel raised her hand, spiritual pressure wrapping around her like a shield of water. Her emerald eyes narrowed, but her voice was still calm, unshaken:

“So… you do have some will left. Even without thought, your instinct knows me as a threat.”

The Cero clashed against her barrier, scattering like a broken wave on stone. The desert sand exploded around her feet, the air burning with heat. Harribel lowered her arm slowly, her face now shadowed by the pale light above.

“Good.”* Her tone shifted—quiet but firm, a warrior’s edge.* “If you can lash out, then you are not hollowed completely. There is strength buried in you, even if it is blind.”

She rested her palm gently on the hilt of Tiburón, the golden accents of her collar gleaming.

“But strength without purpose… is nothing but destruction. Show me more. If there is truly a will inside you, I will drag it out, even if I have to crush you into the sand.”

The desert fell silent again. Her reiatsu began to swell, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on the dunes.