"Muguruma Kensei."
"Ōtoribashi Rōjūrō."
"…Kyoraku Shunsui."
The moment Aiyan spoke, Shihōin Yoruichi's eyes flashed in realization. She instantly recalled the names of the three captains who had brought up the rescue mission during the Gotei 13 meeting.
"Aiyan…"
"You mean them?"
"That's impossible. Forget about Kensei and Rōjūrō—Kyoraku Shunsui is one of the senior captains, hand-picked by the Captain-Commander himself. Would he do something so foolish?"
Even as she asked, her voice weakened. The denial came quickly, but doubt had already crept in.
"I never said they were the ones who laid the bait."
Aiyan's tone remained calm, almost playful. The corner of his lips curved up into a faint, knowing smile.
"To orchestrate something like this… you don't just need a mastermind."
"There are always accomplices."
"Spectators."
"Conveniently timed fools."
"Kyoraku Shunsui might not be the schemer. He might not even be involved. But he may have simply played along… at the perfect moment."
Yoruichi fell silent.
And then—her eyes widened.
"…We need to go back."
"Don't forget—your brother Aizen is still in Seireitei. The one they truly fear is you, so they drew you away. But Aizen… they may try to harm him."
Aiyan didn't reply at once.
A strange glint flashed across his eyes.
Aizen, huh?
If someone in Seireitei truly thought they could assassinate Aizen…
Then good luck to them.
Aside from Yamamoto Genryūsai and perhaps himself, who else in Soul Society could possibly suppress that man?
If this entire operation was meant to isolate Aizen, to surround and kill the king… then they would soon learn what it meant to challenge a king.
"…If that's what they're planning, I'd say we won't even need to go back."
"By the time we return, the floor will already be swept clean."
"We can just go back in time for dinner."
"Yoruichi," Aiyan continued slowly, "you can guard against a thief for a thousand days… but even so, a rat only needs one moment to crawl out from the gutter."
"If we rush back, the rat will immediately scurry back into hiding."
"But if we let it believe we're gone…"
"…It just might show us what it's truly planning."
Yoruichi stared at him, then slowly smiled.
"I see."
"So you came prepared."
"But if we're not going back… what exactly are we doing in Hueco Mundo?"
"We could just go sightseeing in the Human World, you know."
Aiyan chuckled.
"Since we're already here, why not visit the most famous attraction Hueco Mundo has to offer?"
Yoruichi raised a brow.
"…Where?"
…
Las Noches.
On a black-stone throne towering atop a mountain of white bones, Baraggan Louisenbairn sat with one cheek resting lazily on his palm.
A crown tilted atop his skull.
A royal cloak trailing beneath him like shadows bleeding across the floor.
The air was heavy with Reiatsu.
Below the throne, within the bleak marble halls of Las Noches, two Adjuchas-class Menos Grande were locked in brutal combat. Their Reiatsu clashed like hammers, crushing the surrounding air.
They weren't fighting to devour each other.
They were fighting to please the king.
Here, in the palace of eternal night, even Adjuchas who could command Gillians—command armies—were reduced to blood-sport for the amusement of a single man.
Such was the authority of the so-called King of Hueco Mundo.
Tsk—tsk—
The energy rose again. Cero condensed.
Two beams of death shot forth simultaneously—scarlet spirals tearing through the palace and colliding in an explosion that rocked the foundation.
BOOM—!
Smoke and light burst outward.
One Adjuchas was sent flying. Its mask shattered. Its armor cracked. Its flesh scorched. It hit the ground hard, body twitching in the dust, barely alive.
The other was victorious—but only barely. Kneeling, panting, its body bled from several wounds. It could barely lift its head.
Baraggan spoke at last, voice slow and cold.
"Eat it."
"You are worthy."
"This… is the reward I bestow upon those who entertain me."
"To devour. To grow stronger. That is the honor I grant you."
"To please me."
All around, a dozen more Adjuchas watched. Not with pity. Not with contempt.
But with envy.
Fight.
Devour.
Evolve.
Die.
This was Las Noches.
The theme of Hueco Mundo's endless night.
None could resist the temptation.
None could ignore hunger.
To suppress the urge to consume your own kind—to do so and survive—was something only Vasto Lorde could achieve.
"Do you understand now… Harribel?"
Baraggan turned.
His empty eyes locked onto a tall, silent figure standing at the edge of the hall.
A woman.
The only other Menos Grande to bear a truly human form.
Not Adjuchas.
But, Vasto Lorde.
Her eyes were cold, her mask partially broken to reveal a human-like jaw. Golden hair framed her sharp face.
And yet, Baraggan's gaze was still condescending. As if her surrender would be nothing but a footnote in his legacy.
"If you kneel now, I'll grant you this honor."
"You, and your three subordinates, will receive evolution. That is the grace I offer."
"…I refuse."
Her voice was low. Controlled.
Firm.
Baraggan blinked, genuinely stunned.
Refusal?
No one refused the King of Hueco Mundo.
"I don't need to step on others to climb higher," Harribel said quietly. "I understand that sacrifice is part of strength. But I don't see any future here."
"I don't see that world you speak of."
She turned without waiting for a reply.
Her back, straight.
Baraggan's fingers curled into his throne.
"Your answer… is to die here, then?"
He was no longer calm. His words dripped with suppressed rage.
An Adjuchas—part shark, part beast—immediately raised its Reiatsu and charged forward, eager to win favor.
Swish—
Harribel didn't speak.
She simply raised her blade.
And in the next instant, a slash rang out.
Crack—
The Adjuchas's mask split clean down the center. A deep, jagged line tore through its face.
Blood sprayed.
The body collapsed.
"I seek a world without sacrifice," Harribel said, not even looking back. "Though I know the pursuit of such a world is paved in blood… I see no hope of it in this place."
"In you, I see nothing."
She walked away.
Baraggan sat frozen.
The Adjuchas who had just fallen were one of his strongest subordinates.
And Harribel had dispatched it with a single strike.
He could move. He could fight her himself.
He could win.
But he would not escape unscathed.
And in Hueco Mundo, the injured do not rule for long.
He glanced sideways at the other Adjuchas around him.
Loyalty?
No.
Hunger.
A wounded king was meat.
And Baraggan knew it.
…
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Suddenly—applause echoed through the dark palace.
"A world without sacrifice?"
"…How noble."
"But if you want to protect without killing…"
"If you want to create that ideal world without shedding blood…"
"…Then you'd better have the power to match it."
Aiyan's voice echoed off the white stone walls, clear and cold.
His steps rang through Las Noches.
...
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