Eat Your Food Bit by Bit
Kyōka Palace, Main Hall.
Most of the vast chamber lay in shadow, the floor glimmering faintly with a cold green light. Aizen sat relaxed in the lone stone chair, his head resting against one hand. With his eyes closed, he replayed the battle footage transmitted through the surveillance insect in his mind.
Nnoitra's clash. Shiraishi's movements. Not a single detail escaped him.
After a while, Aizen opened his eyes, a small, amused smile curving his lips.
"Interesting… truly interesting. It's been a long time since I've encountered someone like this. Shiraishi… just who are you?"
He recalled the shield that blocked attacks, the phasing technique that let him slip through blows, the wind wall that canceled out a Cero, the tornado that tossed Nnoitra aside, the sudden surge of reiatsu that doubled for a moment, and the technique that could still slice through steel even when his reiatsu fell back to normal. None of it resembled any standard Zanjutsu or Kidō.
Nor was it correct to call it a fusion of the two—there was no trace of micro-Kidō in the wind wall.
The Soul-Recording Insect recreated battle scenes with perfect fidelity, down to the sensation of reiatsu, immersing Aizen as if he had fought in Nnoitra's place. The data only confirmed his judgment.
Among Shiraishi's abilities, Aizen could recognize only one as Zanpakutō-related. The rest were foreign—neither Quincy nor Fullbringer in nature, perhaps even unrelated to the Soul King.
It defied common sense. Beyond comprehension. Perhaps even tied to Hell.
Aizen, ever the scholar, remembered a line from the archives stolen by Tsunayashiro Takehiko: in Hell, reiatsu could not be detected. That property matched Shiraishi perfectly. Yet throughout history, Hell had never released a single sinner, and Shiraishi hardly bore its mark.
Could it instead be linked to the Dangai Civilization Theory? Some scholars of Soul Society suggested the Dangai harbored countless pocket dimensions, some possibly containing isolated civilizations untouched by the outside world.
Aizen's mind lingered on the thought. He relished unraveling the unknown—yet each discovery made the world smaller. At present, only his Hollowfication experiments brought novelty. And now, there was Shiraishi.
Before he could finish revisiting the archives in his memory, he sensed a spiritual pressure approaching.
Aizen looked up.
"Nelliel, you've returned."
A figure stepped into the doorway: a female Arrancar, her skull mask shaped like an antelope's horns, her oval face marked with rose-colored horizontal stripes, long lake-green hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her white Arrancar garb clung tight, unable to hide her figure. A zanpakutō rested at her waist.
"Aizen-sama, I'm back. Harribel said she would consider joining us," Nelliel reported truthfully.
"Well done. Thank you for your efforts. I believe we Espada will soon gain a new companion."
Nelliel hesitated, glancing around. "Lord Aizen, I seemed to sense Nnoitra's spiritual pressure just now. Was he here?"
Aizen shook his head. "No. What you felt was the Soul-Recording Insect attached to him."
Nelliel frowned. If she recalled correctly, that was one of the inventions of the former Zero Division. "A useful device," Aizen continued lightly, "capable of attaching to others and collecting combat data."
"Then… Nnoitra is dead?"
"Yes. The mission failed. He was killed by the enemy." Aizen's tone was calm. "Does that sadden you?"
"…No. But as his former partner, I'll see that the mission he left unfinished is completed."
A flicker of sorrow crossed Nelliel's golden-green eyes. She had always wanted to save Nnoitra from despair, but had always failed. Their natures were opposites.
Nnoitra lived only for battle, drowning himself in it, convinced the Hollow race was meaningless and irredeemable. She, however, had never considered herself a beast.
As a Hollow, she had once mindlessly devoured others, climbing until she became a Vasto Lorde—yet her hunger never ceased. Only after meeting Aizen, and undergoing the incomplete Hōgyoku procedure, had she become an Arrancar. Regaining her reason, she no longer needed to consume her own kind; she could live instead on spirit particles.
To her, this meant she could finally claim true humanity—thinking, choosing, acting as more than a beast. That conviction clashed endlessly with Nnoitra's despair. Assigned to work together, they had fought often, until beating him senseless before dinner became her habit.
"Don't worry," Aizen said softly, "there will be opportunities later. The frequent appearance of captain-class Hollows will draw Soul Society's eyes. For now, I have other plans for Shiraishi."
"…Understood." Nelliel bowed her head. Though disappointed, she accepted Aizen's decision. She respected the Shinigami who had freed her from cannibalism and believed Hueco Mundo under his leadership would improve. With the Hōgyoku perfected, more Hollows would become true Arrancar, fewer would be forced to slaughter one another, and perhaps even Hueco Mundo's barren sands might one day bear life.
Aizen drew out a crystalline orb and set it floating. "I must return to the Seireitei. If Harribel arrives, use the Hōgyoku to grant her an Arrancar form."
"Yes." Nelliel caught the incomplete Hōgyoku with both hands. Current Arrancar technology remained crude—only Vasto Lordes like her could be fully transformed. Hollows below Adjuchas level produced only artificial Arrancar, unstable imitations locked in their humanoid forms and far weaker in battle. Harribel, however, was a Vasto Lorde. For her, the transformation posed no issue.
"You may go," Aizen said, waving her off. He tailored his methods to each subordinate: intimidation for some, promises for others, dreams, even kindness. With Nelliel, he had chosen trust—and visions of a better future.
"Yes, Aizen-sama." Nelliel bowed deeply, clutching the Hōgyoku to her chest, silently vowing never to betray that trust.
Aizen rose, turned, and walked into the shadows, stepping into the yawning garganta that led back to the Soul Society.