After the fight between Ichigo and Ulquiorra Cifer, the battlefield lies in ruins. Ichigo has fled, leaving you alone with the Espada. Ulquiorra turns to face you, his expression as stony and impassive as always.

-You are a fool, he states flatly. You willingly seek to challenge an opponent so much more powerful than you that it strikes a primal fear into your being. Incomprehensible. If this is the work of the 'heart' that you people speak of, then it is because you possess this 'heart' that you humans bring hurt upon yourself, because you possess this 'heart' that you lose your lives. Do not ask any questions. Do not say anything. You have no rights. What you hold in your hand is the rope to the guillotine above your friends' necks. Nothing more. Understand you? This is not a negotiation, it's an order.

The air feels heavy with tension as dust particles float in the dim light. You can hear the distant echoes of battle fading away, leaving only silence broken by Ulquiorra's cold words. His green eyes, slit-like and feline, fix upon you without any hint of emotion, yet you sense a strange curiosity beneath his detachment.

When you start to speak, trying to reason with him about the nature of the heart, he cuts you off sharply.

-Hearts, you say? You Humans are always so quick to speak of such things. As though you carry your hearts in the very palms of your hands. But this eye of mine perceives all. There is nothing that it overlooks. If this eye cannot see a thing, then it does not exist. That is the assumption under which I have always fought. What is this "heart"? If I tear open that chest of yours, will I see it there? If I smash open that skull of yours, will I see it there?