Meanwhile, high within the vaulted ceilings of Las Noches' main corridor, a shadow clung motionless to the white stone. Amamiya Miyako, his presence suppressed to near nothingness, felt the shift. Several immense, predatory reiatsu signatures—the upper Espada—were now on the move, departing their posts and surging toward the outer towers like hunting hounds released. The defensive net was pulling taut elsewhere, creating a brief, fragile gap in the interior security.
'This is the opening. It won't last long.'
No longer hesitating, he moved. Blending techniques learned under Yoruichi Shihōin's ruthless tutelage with his innate Quincy stealth, he became less than a ghost—a slight distortion in the air, a fleeting chill. He flowed down the wall and streaked deeper into the fortress's heart, a silent arrow aimed at its core.
The minor Hollows and low-level Arrancars patrolling the gleaming halls never sensed him. Where avoidance was impossible, a whisper of Bakudō #26, Kyokkō, bent light around him, rendering him invisible. His Quincy cloak, woven to dampen spiritual signatures, did the rest. Any isolated sentry that posed a risk was swiftly, silently neutralized with a pinpoint burst of Reishi Manipulation, their forms dissolving before they could hit the floor.
Miyako was a specter of efficiency until he suddenly froze, pressing himself into a deep alcove. A familiar, oppressive, and deeply cold reiatsu was approaching—one that demanded absolute caution.
'Ulquiorra.'
Below, the Cuatro Espada walked with measured steps, the human girl, Inoue Orihime, following a pace behind him. Her own bright, warm reishi was dimmed by anxiety and fatigue. They stopped before a nondescript door in a secluded wing. Ulquiorra opened it, and Orihime hurried inside.
"Orihime! Are you okay?!" The voice of Arisawa Tatsuki, tight with worry, carried into the hall.
This was their prison. Aizen, in his cruel practicality, had crafted the perfect cage. The room itself was shielded, its ambient reishi pressure artificially lowered to human-tolerable levels. Outside, the very atmosphere of Las Noches, saturated with the power of Menos and Arrancar, would crush an ordinary human soul like Tatsuki's, causing it to disintegrate under the spiritual weight. The maids stationed here were chosen for their weak signatures. It was a hostage situation with no need for chains.
"I'm fine, Tatsuki-chan," Orihime said, her voice striving for lightness as she guided her friend further in.
Ulquiorra's monotone cut through their reunion. "Your companion, Kurosaki Ichigo, has infiltrated Hueco Mundo. He appears to be here for your retrieval."
"Kurosaki-kun?!" "Ichigo?!" Their dual exclamations held both hope and dread.
"Understand this clearly," Ulquiorra continued, his green eyes empty. "Within Hueco Mundo, only this chamber is safe for her. Should your human friend step beyond this threshold, the collective reiatsu of the Arrancar will annihilate her soul. It will be a slow, inevitable dissolution."
The words hung in the air, a death sentence that made Orihime clasp her hands nervously. Tatsuki's face hardened, not with fear, but with furious frustration. She was the burden, the leverage. She knew it.
"Therefore, remain obediently inside." With that final, icy command, Ulquiorra turned and sealed the door shut.
Inside, Orihime trembled, gripping Tatsuki's hand. "Tatsuki-chan, you…"
"It's okay, Orihime," Tatsuki said, her voice firming with a fighter's resolve. She forced a confident smile. "He said Ichigo's here, right? I believe him. He'll find a way."
"But the pressure outside… for a human…"
"Don't underestimate me," Tatsuki insisted, squeezing her friend's hand. "I don't have weird powers like you guys, but I'm not made of glass. I've been… getting used to the feeling in here. I can handle more than you think." It was a bluff, or at least a wild hope, but she said it with absolute conviction to soothe Orihime's fears. Seeing her friend try to be strong for her sake, Orihime's eyes welled with tears.
****
Outside the door, Ulquiorra paused. For a fraction of a second, a faint, anomalous sensation had brushed against his awareness—a familiar, yet foreign, trace of reishi. It was so negligible it was almost imaginary, likely an echo from his recent encounter with the Quincy. Yet, his instincts, honed in the endless desert, tingled. He remained still, his senses expanding, but detected nothing concrete.
'An illusion of memory… or a truly superior stealth?'
He turned his impassive gaze to the two Arrancar maids flanking the door. "Guard this post diligently. Encounter any hostiles, you are to raise the alarm immediately. Do not engage alone."
"Yes, Lord Ulquiorra!" they chimed in unison, bowing deeply—Loly Aivirrne and Menoly Mallia.
Only once his cold reiatsu had fully receded down the hall did they dare to relax, their submissive masks melting into expressions of petty malice.
"Tch. That woman," Loly spat, crossing her arms. "Either Aizen-sama summons her personally, or an Espada escorts her. She hides in her room, gets special meals… it makes me sick!"
"Patience, Loly," Menoly cooed, though her eyes were equally venomous. "When Aizen-sama has no more use for her ability, she'll be ours to play with. We can do… whatever we want."
"I can't stand it! Why does a human get such attention? Because of her, we're stuck here as doormen instead of serving at Aizen-sama's side!" Loly's voice was a sharp hiss.
"Maybe we don't have to wait," Menoly whispered, a cruel idea sparking. "We could lure her out alone. Just for a little… talk."
"Oh? Do you have a plan?"
"I'm thinking…"
****
Above them, unseen, Amamiya Miyako observed. He recognized the two from his knowledge—petty, cruel, and obsessed with Aizen. The urge to eliminate them immediately was strong, a quick cleanse of poisonous vermin. But he held back. He didn't know if Aizen had woven monitoring Kidō or other traps directly into the room's structure. A rash move could trigger an unseen alarm.
'First, confirm the environment.' He noted the room's exact spatial coordinates within the labyrinthine fortress. His plan was simple: find an external vantage point, study the room's construction. If it wasn't a perfect spiritual seal, he could potentially establish contact.
Now that he had located Orihime and Tatsuki, the next step was coordination. The high-level communication Bakudō #77, Tenteikūra, could relay the information to Ichigo and the others. However, while its transmission was secure from interception, the initial surge of reishi to cast it was like a beacon in the night. To use it now would be to paint a target on his own back.
He would have to wait. Wait for the chaos of the coming battles to erupt, for reiatsu to flare and clash throughout Las Noches like a storm. In that moment of universal sensory overload, his signal could be lost in the noise. He melted back into the shadows, a patient hunter, ready to become the unseen link in the coming rescue.