Inside Las Noches.
In a secluded side hall, Aizen stood quietly, studying the enormous container before him.
Inside it floated a dark-skinned man whose limbs were tightly bound by chains.
His messy purple hair drifted within the liquid like something alive. Dense black spiritual pressure coiled around his body in tangible strands, slowly writhing.
His eyes were open but devoid of any expression. Only the whites remained, giving him a chilling, hollow appearance.
If Shimo were here, he would immediately recognize the man inside the container.
Former Captain of the Ninth Division—Kaname Tōsen.
Aizen gazed at Tōsen calmly, his eyes lowered with a faint, meaningful smile.
Standing beside him, Gin Ichimaru folded his arms into his sleeves. His eyes narrowed into crescents, lips curled into a fox-like grin as though watching something amusing.
"Oh my, oh my…
Aizen-sama, when will Tōsen complete his metamorphosis?"
Aizen's smile did not change as he answered softly.
"Gin, transformation is never something that can be achieved easily. Especially when it involves a change in species."
"Tōsen's power comes entirely from external sources. If he wishes to break free from the cocoon, he will require a final push."
"A butterfly may be beautiful after emerging… but without extreme suffering to temper it, that beauty would be nothing more than an illusion—like a bubble beneath sunlight, bursting at the slightest touch."
Aizen paused and glanced at the thoughtful Gin.
"It seems you already understand."
Gin froze for a moment, then his grin widened, revealing his fox-like nature.
"Aizen-sama… you're not speaking about Tōsen alone, are you?"
Aizen stepped closer to the container.
His presence caused a reaction inside. Tōsen stirred faintly, chains rattling as black spiritual pressure surged violently within the vessel.
"Just as you suspect," Aizen said calmly.
"Tōsen is merely one part of the metamorphosis."
"I see…" Gin's narrowed eyes gleamed faintly.
At that moment, footsteps approached from outside the hall.
"Aizen-sama."
Aizen spoke quietly.
"Has our 'guest' arrived?"
Szayelaporro bowed his head respectfully, all arrogance gone.
"Yes, just as you predicted.
The walls of Las Noches have been breached. Kyoraku Shimo is walking alone through the outer corridor."
"He seems to have noticed our surveillance—but chose not to destroy it."
Aizen chuckled softly.
"So he broke through the walls of Las Noches? How very like Shimo."
"In that case, summon Mantikor."
Gin remained silent, watching.
Soon, a man in white robes entered. His face was sealed by a zipper-like mask, his eyes filled with madness.
But the moment he saw Aizen, that madness vanished.
He said nothing—his sealed mouth made speech impossible.
Aizen continued watching Tōsen in the container and spoke without turning.
"Manticore. You should be quite familiar with Tōsen, shouldn't you?"
Manticore's eyes were blank at first, until they landed on the container. Recognition flickered, and he nodded deeply.
Aizen turned toward him with a gentle smile.
"Your task will be to guard Tōsen as the final gate."
"Even… if it costs your life."
Manticore froze briefly, then lowered his head deeply in absolute loyalty.
As Aizen's calm smile returned, he said softly:
"I hope the gift I've prepared will satisfy Shimo."
"Gin. We depart."
"Of course, Aizen-sama," Gin replied with a smile that revealed nothing of his thoughts.
Manticore remained bowed, never even looking at Aizen's departing figure.
As Aizen's creation, he had long since offered everything to him.
Any command would be carried out without hesitation—even if it meant death.
---
Meanwhile – Outer Corridor of Las Noches.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway.
The passage ahead was dark and suffocating, yet Shimo walked forward without fear.
After passing through the tunnel, he stepped into a vast arena-like chamber.
It resembled a Roman coliseum, except a massive ceiling sealed off the sky. Dozens of thick white pillars supported the structure.
The moment he entered, he sensed several powerful spiritual pressures filled with deep hostility.
"Shinigami…"
A low murmur echoed through the space again and again.
"Death…"
Figures emerged from the darkness.
Three Arrancar.
The one in front had short golden-brown hair, delicate features, a small fragment of mask on his forehead, and a hollowed circular Zanpakutō in his hand.
Behind him stood two others:
One massive figure wearing a helmet-like mask.
The last is tall, with long black braided hair and a feminine appearance despite being male—his mask covering part of his head and left eye.
Though different in appearance, they shared one thing.
Their eyes were lifeless... like walking corpses.
Their whisper continued to echo:
"Death…"
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