Yylfordt felt like shit. Every movement ached, and he felt weak, but he heard Grimmjow, and he understood what that command meant.

He staggered, weakly, to his feet, standing like a man on his last leg. The way he carried his sword certainly didn't suggest he was about to attack anyone.

He couldn't even concentrate to release, that was what sucked more than anything. Although releasing in a weakened state like this was probably a bad idea anyway.

He looked at Grimmjow, and then at the Ryoka, before taking a couple of halting steps backwards.