Facing Shinji Hirako's question, Shimo thought for a moment before answering:
"Advance toward the area where the reishi is densest."
In Soul Society's records, Hueco Mundo was divided into an "outer ring" and an "inner ring," and even Las Noches was only mentioned in passing, with no further detail. But in Shimo's understanding, Hueco Mundo's vastness far exceeded what the old texts described.
Their current position should be along the edge of the inner ring.
The Forest of Menos was practically beneath their feet.
As for the Gillians and Adjuchas within it—unless it was absolutely necessary, Shimo had no intention of dealing with them.
Whether they were strong or not didn't matter. None of them were stronger than him.
The problem was numbers. With so many, clearing them all out in a short time was basically impossible.
"Our objective is Aizen Sosuke," Shimo said calmly. "Based on what we know, he can mobilize Menos and Arrancar."
"That means his standing in Hueco Mundo must be extremely high."
"And strong men should enjoy the finest resources."
He looked to the east, eyes burning.
"That way—where the reishi density is at its highest."
Ever since his last trip to Hueco Mundo, Shimo had already confirmed where Las Noches was. Nel also knew, of course—but it was better coming from him.
Because, in a sense, Nel's identity was… awkward among this group.
But she didn't care.
For Nel, as long as she could be with Shimo, that was enough.
No one objected to his plan.
"In that case," Unohana said with a gentle smile, "let's proceed as Shimo-kun suggests. A captain-class group stepping into Hueco Mundo won't be something Aizen can miss."
"If nothing unexpected happens, at this very moment… our movements are already in his sight."
The Visored stiffened immediately.
---
-Las Noches-
Inside Las Noches—an immense, labyrinthine fortress of countless inner halls—there were not only the private palaces of the Espada, but also innumerable chambers of every function imaginable.
Aizen sat high within one of the inner halls.
The towering deep-blue throne beneath him seemed carved from some special material.
He tilted his head slightly, resting his chin on a loosely curled right hand, and watched with interest the enormous luminous screen before him.
Several images flickered across it in rapid succession.
Until one figure in the footage raised his head, as if sensing something—
And then the screen went black. Observation: impossible.
At that moment, soft footsteps approached from below.
Aizen withdrew his gaze and looked down.
"Well, well," Gin drawled. "Aizen-sama's paying that much attention to the Shinigami?"
Gin's eyes were curved into a thin, twisted smile. He wore a loose captain's haori; his Zanpakutō and even his hands were hidden beneath it, his entire presence radiating danger.
"Gin," Aizen said, "your premise is wrong."
"The people of Soul Society aren't worth my attention."
He tapped the throne's armrest lightly—tap, tap.
"Only Shimo-kun is worthy of being watched."
"The rest… are merely extras."
Gin's smile widened, foxlike.
"Ahh—just as I expected."
"Captain Shimo really is a troublesome one."
Aizen met his gaze and chuckled.
"Shimo's power is nearing the threshold of breaking its limits."
"He deserves caution."
Gin's expression sobered; his smile faded a little.
"Then that… creature you prepared—was it meant for Captain Shimo as well?"
Aizen nodded, eyes lowered, arrogance laid bare.
"Gin, your focus shouldn't be on Mantikor."
"Go. Notify the Espada. Convene a meeting."
He placed both hands on the throne's guards and looked down at Gin with cool detachment.
"We need to confirm our next steps regarding the invasion of Karakura Town… and how we'll deal with the captains who've entered Hueco Mundo."
Gin bowed.
"As you command, Aizen-sama."
And he left the inner hall.
Aizen watched him go, his gaze deep and unreadable.
At the center of his chest, a blue-violet light pulsed—like the glow of creation itself.
....
...
Not long after, the main hall of Las Noches was filled with ten Arrancar in white uniforms, each imposing, each distinct.
They sat according to their numbers, on tall, hard stone chairs.
1st Espada — Coyote Starrk
2nd Espada — Szayelaporro Granz
3rd Espada — Tier Harribel
4th Espada — Ulquiorra Cifer
5th Espada — Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez
6th Espada — Zommari Rureaux
7th Espada — Aaroniero Arruruerie
8th Espada — Luppi Antenor
9th Espada — Yammy Llargo
10th Espada — Ferdinand Mantikor
*(TL/N - Might be AU. So dont expect canon.)
The reshuffled seating clearly put some of them on edge.
"Hey!"
When Grimmjow saw Szayelaporro occupying the "Second" seat, he snapped with open contempt:
"You—what right do you have sitting there?"
"Don't tell me you're stronger than me."
Szayelaporro turned his head. Behind the glasses-like mask, his eyes seemed wicked.
"Well now—looks like our little panther… is quite displeased with the new numbering."
The deliberate provocation was the kind of thing Grimmjow couldn't tolerate.
He was about to erupt—
When a voice cut in, and his movement froze.
"Grimmjow."
"Do you have a problem with my arrangement?"
The instant Grimmjow heard it, his entire body went stiff—like he'd been dropped into a deadly winter. Cold crawled up his spine.
The pressure was so horrifying he couldn't even look at the speaker.
Grimmjow clenched his teeth, stubborn to the end, forcing the words through his jaw:
"N-no…!"
The pressure vanished.
Aizen walked calmly to the throne at the head of the table.
"Good," he said.
He swept his gaze across the Espada, expression tranquil.
"Your recuperation ends here."
"The captains of Soul Society have formally invaded Hueco Mundo."
"And they're closing in on Las Noches."
As he spoke, the Espada's reactions differed—some subtle, some obvious.
Aizen's eyes lowered, scanning them.
"Our target remains Karakura Town."
"But first, we'll deal with this nuisance."
The Espada remained quiet—no outbursts, no panic.
Only Grimmjow looked different: battle-hungry, almost vibrating with impatience.
"Your reactions are satisfactory," Aizen said mildly, then let his gaze drift to the far end of the table.
"Before we begin, we'll watch a piece of footage."
"Gin."
At his words, a white figure stepped out of the shadows.
"Yes, Aizen-sama."
Gin produced a device from within his sleeve.
After a brief operation, an image floated above the table.
Because of the Espada's different positions, it looked oddly angled—yet from where each of them sat, the view was perfectly clear.
Fourteen figures walked across the white sand.
Four wore white captain's haori. Six wore standard Shinigami uniforms. Four wore modern human clothing.
The mix was unsettling.
Ulquiorra and Yammy's pupils shrank the moment they saw Shimo in the footage.
"That bastard…" Yammy growled, teeth grinding hard enough to make a painful squeal. Veins bulged along his arms like coiling dragons.
Both of them had been "killed" by Shimo once.
They remembered him too well.
"Such excellent materials," Szayelaporro murmured, fingers interlaced, eyes gleaming with desire.
"Besides the ones in front, the rest are trash," Grimmjow snorted.
Aizen's expression didn't change. He smiled faintly.
"Don't underestimate them—especially the one walking at the very front."
Before he could continue, Shimo in the footage seemed to sense the surveillance and turned toward the camera.
A dangerous smile touched his face.
The image rippled violently—
And vanished.
"My apologies, Aizen-sama," Gin said, sounding mildly troubled. "That's all the stored footage we have."
Aizen nodded.
"This is enough."
He looked over the Espada.
"Any suggestions?"
A bead of sweat slid down Yammy's head, stark against his dark skin.
For an instant, he remembered that slash—something he couldn't stop.
Fear, once planted, began to sprout inside him.
"Tch-tch. In that case," Szayelaporro chuckled strangely, then looked at Ulquiorra with blatant provocation, "two Espada acting together, and you still got a fragment-soul killed."
"In the end, you were simply too weak."
Before Ulquiorra could respond, Aaroniero spoke up:
"Aizen-sama already said it. Don't underestimate them."
Szayelaporro's head twisted at an unnatural angle toward Aaroniero.
"Low-class Hollow—do you think you have the right to speak here?"
The entire hall turned cold with his voice.
Then Aizen spoke, calm and final:
"Enough."
"Now I'll assign your actions."
"The top three Espada will accompany me to the World of the Living, to suppress Karakura Town."
At Aizen's words, Szayelaporro immediately quieted and bowed.
"As you wish, Aizen-sama."
Starrk lifted his head, eyes dead-tired, voice devoid of drive.
"…Yeah."
Harribel's gaze flickered, then hardened.
"Yes, Aizen-sama."
Aizen turned to the rest.
"Espada Four through Ten—intercept the invading Shinigami."
"Also, the Shinigami leading them is named Kyōraku Shimo."
"He is the one who killed Ulquiorra and Yammy's fragment-souls. Treat him as the highest-priority threat."
"But his opponent will be Mantikor."
At that, the Espada's eyes shifted to the new Tenth.
Ferdinand Mantikor's face remained calm, unchanged.
He was of average build. His mask bound his mouth and nose like a zipper.
He said nothing—only gave a small nod.
From beginning to end, the new Espada didn't speak a single word.
It made the others uneasy… and more cautious.
"As for guarding Las Noches," Aizen continued, tapping the armrest lightly,
"leave that to your fragment-souls."
"Any objections?"
His indifferent gaze swept the room.
Every Espada lowered their head slightly, avoiding eye contact.
"Then you may depart."
Aizen smiled and rose.
"You needn't belittle them… but you also don't need to fear them."
"Fight as you always do."
"No worry. No anxiety."
"Because no matter what happens—so long as you follow in my footsteps…"
"Our path ahead holds no enemies."
----------------------------///
Advance Chapters on Patreon!
p(a)treon(.)com/HudaLin
-Remove the parenthesis to access patreon normally
Thanks for the Support!