Inside the hotel's women's restroom, the unconscious bald man sat slumped on a toilet.
"Fu Hua," dressed in a tailored men's suit, slowly stepped out and took position in front of the elevator.
To be honest, aside from the suit hanging slightly loose at the shoulders, it fit her surprisingly well. If not for her long gray hair and the subtle curve of her hips, most people would have mistaken her for a man at first glance.
Truly worthy of the nickname "Divine Flatland." Even disguised as a man, there was no sense of mismatch whatsoever.
"Master, the patrol guard has been dealt with. I'm about to take the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor."
"Good work. Remember—you are Fu Hua now. Every word and gesture must mirror her exactly."
"I understand."
With that, "Fu Hua" entered the elevator and ascended toward the thirty-sixth floor.
Back in the hotel room, hearing her voice echo within his mind, the Tarnished nodded in satisfaction.
He glanced at the real Fu Hua sitting nearby.
Her expression was dark.
It wasn't that she objected to wearing men's clothing—she would have made the same choice under similar circumstances—but watching an identical version of herself dressed as a man standing in front of her felt… deeply unsettling.
The one currently riding the elevator was not the real Fu Hua.
It was the Mimic Tear.
Originally, the plan had been simple.
He would use the Mimic Veil to assume Fu Hua's appearance, infiltrate the enemy stronghold, rescue Kiana, and eliminate the reincarnation squad.
The Mimic Veil was one of the treasured items Godrick had taken with him when he was exiled from the royal capital. It was said to have once belonged to Marika herself—an object capable of imitating countless forms and objects.
It was even famed as "Marika's Mischief."
Though, he had always wondered—
What exactly had Marika used it for?
Why call it mischief?
Did she transform into Godfrey and duel her own husband for sport?
Or perhaps turn into Radagon and cross blades with him?
Just as he had taken out the light-brown veil and prepared to transform, a soft voice echoed in his heart.
"Master."
At first, he thought he had imagined it.
But after hearing it several times, he realized it was real.
Curious, he used the Spirit Calling Bell to summon the source of the voice—the Mimic Tear.
To his surprise, the Mimic Tear not only spoke, but spoke in a female voice.
After a brief exchange, he came to a shocking realization.
The Spirit Ashes had consciousness of their own.
He had always assumed they were merely tools—silent, obedient objects.
So for hundreds of cycles… they had been pretending to be mute?
Annoyed and intrigued, he summoned several of his commonly used Spirit Ashes in succession—until he nearly felt his body hollowed out.
The Spirit Jellyfish.
Finger Maiden Therolina.
Bloodhound Knight Floh.
The Nightmaiden and Swordstress.
To his surprise, aside from Therolina remaining silent, the rest could all speak.
The Spirit Jellyfish was even a girl.
Her name was Aurelia.
No wonder, back in his first cycle, Roderika had mentioned that this Spirit Ash liked him—and had referred to it as "she."
Looking at the figures gathered before him, he fell into deep thought.
So they had always possessed awareness.
And yet he had journeyed through so many cycles believing himself alone.
Only Hu Tao and Aurelia seemed particularly excited by the revelation, chatting cheerfully.
Rita and Fu Hua, on the other hand, reacted with composed curiosity rather than shock.
To them, these entities resembled Honkai beasts—yet without any trace of Honkai energy.
And the man capable of summoning and commanding such beings grew increasingly mysterious in their eyes.
In the live broadcast, the others were equally stunned.
Aizen, who had been practicing calligraphy while watching, suddenly faltered. His brush trembled, and an exquisitely written sheet was ruined.
"Captain Aizen? Are you alright?"
Standing nearby, a seemingly delicate girl in a black Shihakusho looked distressed at the ruined calligraphy.
"It's nothing," Aizen replied gently, his calm smile unwavering. "I was momentarily distracted."
He casually set aside the spoiled sheet of paper and turned toward her.
"Momo, could you fetch another sheet? I'll write another one for you."
"Really? Thank you, Captain Aizen!"
Hinamori Momo's eyes lit up with delight. Nearly forgetting her composure, she hurried from the room to retrieve more paper.
Once she had fully left, Aizen's gaze returned to the live broadcast.
The semi-fluid entity capable of perfectly imitating others…
His plans had already progressed to the stage where Rukia would soon arrive in the Human World. Before long, he himself would leave the Soul Society.
And inevitably, he would face the Captain-Commander.
Even stripped of his Zanpakutō's full power, that man—who had once single-handedly crushed the Wandenreich—remained monstrously strong.
Aizen had already conceived of creating a Hollow specifically engineered to absorb flames.
But that alone might not suffice.
And so, a bold idea began to take shape in his mind.
—
Meanwhile, inside the elevator—
Ding.
The doors opened on the thirty-sixth floor.
Fu Hua stepped out.
An unnatural silence filled the corridor. Only the crisp echo of her footsteps broke the stillness.
There were no guards. No visible presence of anyone.
It was eerily similar to the atmosphere when her master had first arrived.
At least the seventeenth floor had a bald guard stationed there.
Here—nothing.
If not for the corridor lights still shining, one might have mistaken the place for a haunted house.
Creak.
A faint sound came from behind her.
"Who's there?"
She spun sharply.
At the far end of the hallway, the door to one of the guest rooms stood ajar.
Her expression hardened as she slowed her steps and advanced cautiously.
Just as she approached—
A shadow burst from the doorway.
Without hesitation, she struck.
Mountain Collapse!"
Her fist exploded forward with crushing force. The shockwave blasted framed paintings from the walls and tore the shadow apart.
But her brow remained furrowed.
"Missed?"
There had been no impact.
Her fist had struck nothing but air.
In the same instant, the shadow reformed silently behind her.
A hand lashed out, striking her neck with brutal precision.
"Damn—!"
Before she could react, there was a sickening crack.
Her vision blurred. Her body went rigid.
She collapsed straight to the floor.
"C… curse it…"
Through fading consciousness, she saw a man step out from the shadows and crouch before her.