Within the sprawling, silent halls of Las Noches, a sense of unease began to spread. Many Arrancar had seen Grimmjow pursue the intruder towards the dome, but after the initial chase, an unnatural quiet had settled over the upper reaches. No earth-shattering explosions, no tell-tale shockwaves of a Gran Rey Cero, no furious roars echoing through the stone. Just… silence.
Tier Harribel, the Tres Espada, stood in a high corridor, her golden eyes fixed upward. Since Aizen had created the beautiful, false sky, no Espada had reason to venture into the true, desolate heavens of Hueco Mundo above the dome. The original sky was a reflection of their world: a dim, bleak expanse where only the law of the merciless desert prevailed.
"Grimmjow…" she murmured, her brow faintly creased. "Why is there no movement?" She knew the Sexta Espada's temperament. Upon reaching a sanctioned battleground, he would unleash his full power without restraint. The lack of cataclysmic noise was more alarming than any explosion.
A cold premonition tightened in her chest. "I must investigate."
Just as she tensed to leap upwards, her keen senses finally caught it—a faint, flickering spiritual signature. It was Grimmjow's, but it was terrifyingly weak, guttering like a candle in a storm.
'How is this possible? Even Grimmjow was defeated?' The thought was staggering. And in such a short span of time. Her expression, usually impassive, shifted to one of profound shock.
High in the central chamber of Las Noches, Aizen Sousuke also sensed the precipitous decline of the wild blue reiatsu. He let out a soft, almost regretful sigh.
"What a waste, Grimmjow. Even with your arm restored… you could not overcome Amamiya Miyako." He adjusted his glasses, a faint, analytical smile on his lips. "It seems he is indeed Soul Society's prodigy. His combat strength has likely already surpassed that of Hitsugaya Tōshirō."
Yet, even as he spoke this praise, in the deep recesses of his mind, Aizen had already categorized Miyako. He was merely another Captain-class entity, perhaps a cut above the youngest Captain, but not a variable that warranted true concern. Having observed the peculiar abilities of his Zanpakutō twice, Aizen was confident he had mapped its parameters. A known quantity, however interesting, was not a threat.
"My, my, Aizen-taichō. But there's been no disturbance from above at all?" Ichimaru Gin queried, his slit eyes peering toward the ceiling.
"Urahara Kisuke must have provided him with a specialized barrier technique. They have been collaborating against me for some time, after all," Aizen deduced calmly. "Amamiya Miyako is undoubtedly the hidden safeguard for this rescue operation. That is why Urahara would deploy him covertly. However," his voice grew imperceptibly colder, "within my domain, no one steals what is mine."
"Ah, so you anticipated Kisuke-san's involvement, Taichō?"
"Naturally. Urahara Kisuke's intellect is a quality I cannot help but admire," Aizen conceded, though his tone carried a hint of contempt. "A pity his vision is so limited, content to serve beneath that… thing." The distaste was palpable when he referred to the Soul King, a sovereign he viewed as an abomination unworthy of loyalty.
"That thing?" Gin prompted, noting the rare emotional inflection.
"It is of no consequence now, Gin. We will discuss such matters after our victory is absolute." Aizen's smile returned, serene and closed, as he dismissed the subject.
****
Above the dome, in the stark moonlight of the real Hueco Mundo, Amamiya Miyako moved with ghostly silence. The colossal Seiiki barrier had dissipated. He pulled the black cloak tightly around himself, muttering, "Bakudō #26, Kyokkō." The light bent around him, and his spiritual presence dwindled to near nothingness. He slipped back into Las Noches through the same breach, descending like a shadow along the inner wall.
'Fortunately, no one investigated the silence…' A direct confrontation with another Espada now would be problematic. He focused inward, taking stock. His reiryoku reserves were at roughly half. In this state, he could likely engage one, maybe two more Espada in serious combat before hitting critical levels.
He retreated to a secluded, abandoned chamber far from the main thoroughfares. It was time to coordinate. Pressing a hand to the cool floor, he began the incantation, his voice a low whisper that stirred the ambient reishi.
"Black and white net. Twenty-two bridges, sixty-six crowns and footprints, distant thunder, ringed peaks, tumbling stones, night's ambush, sea of clouds, lines of blue steel. A great wheel forms, piercing the heavens."
Reishi light swirled around his fingertips, forming a complex, ethereal network. "Bakudō #77: Tenteikūra."
****
On the far side of Las Noches, Kurosaki Ichigo, Ishida Uryū, and Kuchiki Rukia had finally regrouped. Ichigo bore the marks of a fierce battle—the fight against the Séptima Espada, Zommari Rureaux, and his bewildering Brujería ability had been grueling. It was only by embracing his inner Hollow, donning the jagged mask, that Ichigo had clinched victory. Now, Rukia was applying basic Kaidō to his wounds, managing to stem the bleeding but little more.
Suddenly, a clear, familiar voice resonated directly in their minds.
"Ichigo, Uryū, Rukia. Can you hear me?"
"Ichigo! Uryū! Rukia! Please listen." Amamiya Miyako's voice transmitted directly into their consciousness.
"This voice… Amamiya?" Ichigo blurted out, looking around.
"That guy… He finally makes contact," Rukia sighed, a weight lifting from her shoulders.
"I have located Inoue Orihime and Arisawa Tatsuki's holding cell. It is on the third floor of Las Noches' central palace, western wing. You must reach them with all speed. The attention of the upper Espada and the garrison has been temporarily diverted. The interior patrols should be minimal for now."
"You found them?! That's amazing!" Ichigo exclaimed, hope surging in his chest.
"So he was successful. That secretive approach of his does have its uses," Rukia said, a faint, knowing smile touching her lips. The prolonged silence had worried her, but now she felt a surge of admiration for Miyako's lethal efficiency. He consistently achieved what others could not, operating in the shadows.
"There is more. I sense Yasutora Sado's reiatsu. He is severely wounded, but stable for now. His life is not in immediate danger. Once you secure Inoue and Arisawa, you must rendezvous with him quickly."
"Damn it… Chad lost," Ichigo muttered, his fist clenching.
"Kurosaki, Amamiya is correct," Uryū stated, pushing his glasses up with a stern expression. "Our priority is the rescue. We retrieve Inoue-san and Arisawa-san first. Then we find Yasutora. If we delay, the Espada will re-establish their defensive net, and our chance will be gone."
The path was clear, but the clock was ticking. The brief window Miyako had fought to create was now open.