When Moyu met Harribel again, her condition was no surprise. She was grievously wounded, her abdomen soaked in blood, unable even to maintain her Resurrección. Though she stood with defiance in her eyes, her body betrayed the toll of betrayal and exhaustion.
Her gaze lingered not on Omaeda Marechiyo, who loomed beside Moyu, but entirely on Moyu himself. The bulky lieutenant, despite his towering build, was dismissed in her perception as little more than background noise. His Reiatsu carried no weight compared to the crushing spiritual gravitas that radiated from Moyu.
"Hello," Omaeda blurted, forcing confidence he didn't possess. Standing beside his captain, he felt invincible, certain he could swagger even before an Espada. "Harribel, isn't it? What's with that look?! This is Captain Kuchiki Moyu, the man who defeated Aizen with his own strength! Show some respect!"
He puffed up with bravado, then instantly deflated, stealing a glance at Moyu with a sycophantic smile. "Captain… what do you think we should do with her?"
Moyu studied Harribel. Her Reiatsu was faint, yet her will remained unbent. Judging by her current state, she might not even overpower Omaeda in combat. The wound in her abdomen bore Aizen's spiritual residue—an unmistakable trace of treachery. She had served him loyally, only to be discarded by a single ruthless stroke. That was the nature of Aizen's ambition: all were pawns until sacrificed.
Their eyes locked. Neither yielded. The weight in Harribel's gaze came not from pride alone, but from what remained behind her: her fracción, her sworn subordinates, her duty not to abandon them.
"Tia Harribel," Moyu said evenly, his voice like steel hidden beneath calm water. "Aizen has been sealed. For this reason—"
He paused deliberately, watching her reaction.
Shock flickered across her face. She had sensed the clash from the ruins of the city, yet had never imagined Aizen could fall. To her, he had been absolute, a ruler who had bent Hueco Mundo itself beneath his will. That such a man could be sealed—defeated—shattered her belief.
"How… is that possible…?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Moyu pressed on, his tone firm. "What is your answer?"
For a long moment she lowered her gaze, her body trembling faintly. Then she raised her eyes again, bitterness giving way to weary resolve. She understood what future awaited Hueco Mundo and herself.
At last, she knelt, one knee touching the shattered earth. Her voice carried both dignity and resignation. "Lord Moyu. I pledge my allegiance to you."
Moyu's Reiatsu pressed lightly against her, a silent acceptance. "The correct choice. Your submission may grant Hueco Mundo the chance to survive."
Omaeda's eyes went wide. He nearly choked on his own breath. Espada, the legendary terror of Hueco Mundo, kneeling before his captain? His thoughts spiraled out of control. Is Captain Moyu planning to take Aizen's path? To rule the Three Realms himself? The idea terrified him so much his legs buckled.
Smack!
Moyu clapped him on the shoulder, and Omaeda collapsed instantly with a squeal. "C-Captain Moyu! I swear I didn't mean to overhear anything! I don't know a thing! Please, forgive me—I'm just a weak lieutenant!" He was half ready to grovel in the dust.
Moyu sighed. "Omaeda… before you start inventing conspiracies, try to understand the situation. Harribel's allegiance does not mean betrayal of the Soul Society. Remember—Nelliel, another Vasto Lorde-class Arrancar, already serves within the Tenth Division. When this war ends, she will formally take a seat. This is no different."
Omaeda froze, his mouth hanging open. The thought that two Espada-level beings could stand within the Gotei Thirteen shattered whatever fragile worldview he had left.
Ignoring his vice-captain's nonsense, Moyu returned his attention to Harribel. "You are aware of Nelliel. For now, your duty is simple—assist with the reconstruction of Karakura Town. When the city is restored, report to me in Seireitei. We will determine your role then."
Harribel bit her lip, green eyes dimming with resignation. "As you command."
Behind her, her three fracción glared with naked fury, their eyes burning at Moyu. Yet under Harribel's Reiatsu, they dared not act or even speak. Moyu trusted she would manage them—loyalty to her ensured they would follow, even against their will.
Far away, on the western outskirts of Seireitei, a great glow burst from the Senkaimon as the captains and lieutenants prepared for their return. The results of the Karakura battle had already reached Soul Society. Though the outcome was victory, the price had been devastating. Captains were grievously injured. Yamamoto Genryūsai himself had lost an arm. For many, it was the most ruinous battle in living memory.
When Moyu finally stepped through the gate, the crowd of waiting Shinigami fell into hushed silence. His presence pressed down like a tide, calm yet absolute. He swept his gaze across them, and his voice carried like a tolling bell.
"Everyone—the war is over. The cost is heavy, but the enemy is sealed. The Soul Society endures."
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