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Present World — Outskirts of Karakura Town
The black garganta yawned open, spitting one figure after another into the night air. When Ishida Munezuru tumbled out, Moyu and Nilu followed, stepping calmly from the darkness.
Opening a passage between Soul Society and Hueco Mundo was troublesome; from Hueco Mundo to the human world, it was almost effortless—especially for Nilu. She was, after all, a Vasto Lorde-class Arrancar born of a Menos Grande.
"Finally back."
"Escaped at last…"
"I thought I'd never see home again."
The mixed-blood Quincies stumbled forward like survivors washed ashore. The pure-bloods who had vanished earlier in Hueco Mundo were another matter—Szayelaporro would not have wasted such prime experimental material.
"Mr. Moyu." Ishida Zongxian, his Quincy power draining away, addressed him with new-found respect. "Please—"
"Take me to the Ishida estate," Moyu cut in, tone leaving no room for refusal. Munezuru hesitated, weighing the command, then sighed. "I understand."
They crossed Karakura in silence until the Ishida manor rose ahead. Munezuru's cooperative manner earned him a rare flicker of Moyu's approval. "Go and gather everyone," Moyu ordered.
Zongxian's return stirred the household, but word of Moyu's presence froze them into silence. Cause and effect. A small seed planted long ago had come to fruit—bitter, and unavoidable.
The courtyard filled with Quincy—more than Moyu expected, some carrying captain-class reiatsu. Yet for all their strength, not one dared release spiritual pressure in his presence.
"What a disappointment," Moyu said, eyes passing over them like a cold wind. "You had the courage to scheme, but not the courage to bear the cost?"
Ishida Longxian's face tightened. He stepped forward to answer, but Zongxian's hand caught his collar. "Stay out of it. This is for the Ishida elders to answer, not you."
Longxian's fists clenched. Moyu's voice cut through again. "When others fight and bleed in your place, you will pay your own price." He drew his Zanpakutō, the blade shifting instantly to its second Shikai form. "I hope you survive."
Lan Yin fell in a single downward stroke.
The air turned black with sword pressure, roaring down like a storm. Even before it struck, buildings groaned and split as if under a typhoon.
"Defensive barrier!" Longxian shouted, blue light blooming from his hands into a dome of reishi, rising to meet the blow. Other Quincy followed, layering barrier upon barrier.
"Let's go," Moyu said, already turning away. Nilu fell into step, smiling, unconcerned. Her world was simple: Moyu, and those beside him.
Kurosaki Masaki lowered her gaze and did not move to interfere. The day the Ishida family sent her to Hueco Mundo, whatever ties remained had been severed. This was their reckoning with Moyu.
Moyu left with Masaki and Nilu. The Ishida's survival was no longer his concern. Heavy losses were certain; with Zongxian alive, they would at least quiet down. Were it not for Masaki, Moyu might have cut down the entire senior council.
Urahara Shop
Urahara Kisuke studied the three before him, arms folded. Nilu had not reverted to her child form—perhaps Masaki's presence played a part. Masaki kept to herself, while Nilu clung to Moyu's arm with shameless warmth.
"So you brought back a Vasto Lorde-class Arrancar, an Adjuchas-class Arrancar, and who knows how many Menos," Urahara said dryly.
Moyu nodded. "Also paid a visit to the Ishida estate. Left a mark. The Shinigami stationed here will be busy."
Kisuke could already picture the scene from the reiatsu flare he'd felt. Ten square miles would need rebuilding. "Let's hope the Ishidas are still standing," he said, then asked, "So—what's your next move?"
"Better to draw them out than strike first," Moyu said. "Attack openly and you lose the advantage of adapting to change. Once I return to Soul Society, the first step begins."
Kisuke frowned. "Moyu… are you sure? I don't mind taking blame, but—"
"Unless you're ready to face Aizen yourself?" Moyu's fingers tapped the table. Kisuke's silence was answer enough.
"I understand," Kisuke said at last, lowering the brim of his hat.
"A matter of duty," Moyu replied, a faint smile at his lips.
Masaki, watching the exchange, felt a prickle of foreboding. She might not follow their schemes, but someone would pay the price.
Seireitei — Eleventh Division
"Too slow! Too slow!" Moyu's voice snapped through the air as he parried a strike. "At this rate, you think you can be a captain? No spirit in your swings at all!"
Abarai Renji panted, Zabimaru heavy in his grip. This was his 360th challenge—and his 360th defeat. Moyu, once his peer at the academy, now stood so far above him the gap seemed infinite.
"Renji, give it up," Moyu said. "Some gaps can't be bridged."
Renji's gaze hardened. "Captain Moyu, let me try again!"
"You've said that three hundred times. Fine—here's the fastest way to grow stronger. A real fight. Life and death. Training with Ikkaku will only take you so far—he won't push you past your limits. You can't reach the next level without standing on the edge."
Renji frowned, silent. Moyu went on, "You need battles—many battles. You can't enter Hueco Mundo, so that leaves only the human world."
"The human world? Are there opponents strong enough?"
"Don't forget what I've done there. If you want strength, go. The opportunity's waiting. Choose for yourself." Moyu turned and left, leaving Renji in thought.
Three days later, moonlight spilled over Karakura's streets as Renji stepped through the gate, eyes set ahead.
Two figures stood atop a high building, watching.
"Well, Heiyu-kun," Kisuke murmured with amusement, "you called it. The redhead chose Karakura after all."
Moyu's smile was small, certain. "Inevitable."
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