"I've come to save you."
Stepping through moonlight, each stride calm and deliberate, Aiyan spoke as though stating a simple fact—not a declaration of power, not a boast.
Yet those six words, when carried by his voice, had the weight to crush despair and soothe terror. As they drifted across the battlefield, they wiped away the panic etched into the faces of hundreds of Shinigami, and dimmed the fear in their eyes like a breeze snuffing out a dying ember.
Even Kurozane Masakane—commander of the expeditionary force, who had bled and fought for years in Hueco Mundo—could not accomplish that with all the strength in his soul.
But Aiyan had done it.
Effortlessly.
With two or three sentences.
"Y-You… you're Captain Aiyan of the Fifth Division!"
One of the Shinigami, who had already embraced death and closed his heart, suddenly widened his eyes and gasped with disbelief and ecstasy.
Never in their wildest hopes did they imagine rescue might come.
And certainly not from Aiyan.
That the man hailed as Soul Society's greatest genius in a thousand years would cross the realm between worlds — leaving behind the polished halls of Seireitei—to walk alone into the desolate sands of Hueco Mundo… to save them.
As for the figure silently standing behind him — Shihōin Yoruichi — few among the expeditionary force recognized her.
Even fewer knew her as the Second Division's newly appointed captain.
Those who did, knew her not by title, but as the Shihōin clan's young mistress.
"You've all worked hard."
"It must've been terrible."
"But it's all right now."
"Leave the rest… to us."
Aiyan walked up to Kurozane Masakane, gave a calm nod, and gently patted the other captain's shoulder. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he turned his right hand palm-up toward the pitch-black heavens of Hueco Mundo.
Tsk… tsk…
As his fingers spread open, a black sphere formed in his palm—dense, compact, made entirely of compressed Reiatsu. With a casual toss, he flung it upward into the sky.
It shot toward the crescent moon high above—ascending until it hung parallel with it, two celestial bodies suspended side by side.
And then—it stopped.
Frozen midair, hovering in the darkness, just a tiny black dot to the naked eye.
"Bakudō Forbidden Technique · Chibaku Tensei."
Aiyan's whisper was barely audible, yet it echoed across the battlefield like a divine edict.
Sough…
First, the desert responded.
The lifeless dunes shuddered, then exploded upward—sand pouring into the heavens like a waterfall in reverse, drawn inexorably toward the sphere.
Crack—!
A thunderous rift split the ground.
Ancient trees, petrified into quartz by time itself, tore free from the earth. From within the Menos Forest, towering trees that had stood undisturbed for ten thousand years now surged into the air, their gnarled roots writhing in the open like monstrous limbs.
Under the gravitational pull of the black sphere, sand, stone, shattered trees—all of it rose skyward in spiraling arcs.
And it wasn't only the inanimate.
The Gillians, hundreds of them—those who had hounded the expeditionary force day and night—suddenly lost all weight. Their massive bodies lifted from the ground, pulled upward alongside the sand and trees, spiraling helplessly toward the dark core above.
Tsk—!
With bone-grinding pressure, a horrifying sound echoed across Hueco Mundo.
What had once been a tiny dot now swelled rapidly—ten seconds was all it took.
Where once hung a lonely crescent moon, now another orb shone in defiance—a massive, silver-black sphere pulsing with Reiatsu, like a second moon forged of iron and starlight.
For ten thousand years, Hueco Mundo had known only one moon.
But now…
There were two.
The old moon, pale and arrogant.
The new moon, radiant and heavy with power.
Side by side they hung, bathing the land in blinding silver light, flooding the barren desert with a brilliance never seen before.
For a brief moment, it felt as if Hueco Mundo itself held its breath.
As though even the ancient, blood-soaked sands were in awe.
"…The moon," someone whispered.
"He created… a second moon…"
"That's Captain Aiyan…"
"Can a Shinigami… really do this?"
"No Gotei captain… has ever done something like this…"
Voices shook. Hearts trembled.
Even Kurozane Masakane, the other Shinigami captains, and Shihōin Yoruichi—all stared at Aiyan with awe bordering on disbelief.
Not fear.
But reverence.
A kind of spiritual awe that even Cero couldn't obliterate.
"Was that Kidō…?"
"That… that's the Kidō we learned together at the Shin'ō Academy, isn't it?"
Shihōin Yoruichi turned to look at Aiyan, her beautiful eyes shimmering with something unnameable.
The former Second Division captain. Heir of the noble Shihōin clan. No—now the patriarch in her own right.
But in this moment, she stared at Aiyan not as a comrade, not as a leader…
But as a girl—one whose heart had just skipped a beat.
"…Yes."
"But it's not number 99. It's my own."
Aiyan nodded slightly, his tone maddeningly calm.
"…When did you even come up with it?" Yoruichi frowned, slightly suspicious. "I've been with you all this time. I never saw you studying Kidō."
"I came up with it casually before heading to Hueco Mundo."
"…?!"
Yoruichi choked.
She had been thoroughly played.
Yet somehow, when she looked at him now, her gaze grew even more intense.
Clearly—
That forbidden-level Bakudō, that devastating Chibaku Tensei—
Had shaken the heart of even the Flash Goddess herself.
"Captain Aiyan… Lady Yoruichi…"
"Thank you…"
"You saved us. You saved the entire expeditionary force!"
As the two stood chatting, Kurozane Masakane approached with his Lieutenant in tow, then dropped to one knee.
His voice trembled not with fear, but sincere, overwhelming gratitude.
Though he didn't yet know Yoruichi had formally reassumed the Second Division captaincy, he knew her name. Her identity.
"You're too kind," Aiyan replied calmly. "You all came to this godforsaken wasteland to protect the safety of Soul Society."
"I'm only able to enjoy peace in the rear because of the blades you hold up against the storm."
His words struck deep.
The hundreds of expedition Shinigami—scarred, exhausted, many on the verge of collapse—had never imagined that a Gotei captain, a genius of legends, could speak with such humility.
Such… understanding.
Because the truth was, every Shinigami who had joined the expedition force… had done so with a simple belief in their heart.
That every Hollow slain in Hueco Mundo meant one less Hollow threatening Soul Society or the Human World.
That belief had led them to this dead land. To years of blood and sand and silence.
Now, Aiyan—their savior—stood here, not only rescuing them, but speaking from the heart, with clarity and respect.
That alone…
Was enough to make them willing to die for him.
"I didn't save you," Aiyan said quietly.
"You're the ones who've been saving Shinigami… and the Human World."
Kurozane Masakane's lips trembled.
His throat constricted.
It was only then, truly, that he felt it.
All their sacrifices in Hueco Mundo… had not been in vain.
Even if the rest of Seireitei treated them as cannon fodder, forgotten on the outer edges—
This man had come for them.
Had crossed realms for them.
"…Captain Aiyan," he said after a pause. "Do you… know why the Gillians were so relentless?"
"I think you deserve to know."
As the last embers of emotion faded from his face, Aiyan asked the question that had troubled him since he first sensed the absurd scale of the pursuit.
Why had the Gillians, mindless though they were, pursued them like hounds for days across Hueco Mundo?
Was it mere coincidence?
Or something far more dangerous?
He needed to know.
...
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