"Master Aizen, who is that man called Shiraha? Is he truly your partner?"
Ulquiorra folded his arms across his chest and lowered his head slightly as he spoke with respectful composure.
After being defeated by Shiraha, he had begun referring to him by name—a reflection of Hueco Mundo's immutable law: the weak obey the strong. And Shiraha, despite overwhelming him, had chosen not to kill him. That alone demanded respect.
Aizen's voice was calm. "Shiraha is… special. He and I are of a similar nature. Partner? You could call it that, in a sense. Ulquiorra, if you encounter Shiraha again, you are to treat him as you would treat me."
From the first time Aizen met Shiraha, he had recognized the difference. Unlike the other nobles of Soul Society, Shiraha carried neither arrogance nor decadence. Beneath his calm lay ambition and clarity—qualities Aizen found reminiscent of his own. That was why, even before now, Aizen had sought to draw him to his side.
"Understood, Aizen-sama," Ulquiorra replied softly, nodding once before stepping back to stand respectfully at Aizen's right.
Ichimaru Gin, his usual sly grin returning despite the faint redness still lingering on his cheeks, glanced toward Ulquiorra. "Now this is surprising. Ulquiorra, showing such humility after a defeat? That's not like you. Or is it because Captain Shiraha spared you?"
"Master Ichimaru worries too much," Ulquiorra replied evenly, eyes cold and forward. His tone betrayed no irritation, only indifference.
In Las Noches, Tousen Kaname served as the chief overseer, managing the Espada's ranks. Ichimaru Gin held no formal position—his authority existed only because of his direct association with Aizen. Among the Espada, most, including Ulquiorra, avoided unnecessary dealings with him.
Gin chuckled faintly and dropped the matter. "Ah well, some things never change."
Tousen Kaname stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Master Aizen, about Kuchiki Shiraha's Zanpakutō—do you believe what he said about its Shikai ability?"
Earlier, Tousen had been too shocked by Shiraha's display to think clearly. But upon reflection, the notion of an unrestricted, time-reversing Shikai seemed implausible, even for a captain-class Shinigami. "If his ability truly has no limits, wouldn't that make it too dangerous?"
Aizen smiled faintly. "You're correct, Tousen. Shiraha's Zanpakutō is indeed time-based, but his explanation was not entirely honest."
Even Tousen could sense the inconsistencies; for Aizen, the truth was obvious. The stillness that had fallen across Hueco Mundo moments ago had confirmed that Shiraha's Zanpakutō could manipulate time—but not in the way he claimed.
"You mean," Tousen said carefully, "Captain Shiraha's Shikai cannot actually reverse time for others?"
"No," Aizen corrected softly. "He can reverse time for others—but only to a finite extent. The effect cannot stack infinitely. My estimation is that the current maximum reversal he can perform is one hundred years."
Aizen's tone was calm, but there was a glimmer of amusement behind his words. Even he had felt an instant of pressure from Shiraha's demonstration. Yet when he examined it logically, the truth became clear.
If Shiraha's ability truly allowed infinite reversal, then the two strikes earlier would not have been so merciful. With ten slashes, even Aizen's existence could have been unraveled by a thousand-year reversal. The fact that he hadn't done so meant only one thing—he lacked that power.
And Aizen did not believe Shiraha would show restraint out of sentiment or alliance.
"As expected of Captain Aizen," Gin said, applauding lightly, his grin widening.
"Even so," Aizen continued, "Shiraha's current Shikai is formidable. Once he masters Bankai, the temporal reversal will likely evolve to a far greater level."
Tousen frowned slightly. "Then why not invite him to join us again? In the past, you always extended the offer. This time, you did not."
Aizen's gaze sharpened. "Because, as I am now, I cannot subdue him. Not yet. When the Hōgyoku fully awakens, when I merge with it and transcend the limits of a Shinigami—only then will I begin to tame Shiraha."
"Understood, Aizen-sama," Tousen replied, bowing his head.
At that moment, four figures appeared before them, their presence rippling the air with controlled power.
"Master Aizen," came a calm, feminine voice. "What happened here? I sensed Ulquiorra and Ichimaru-sama's Reiatsu plummet a moment ago. Was it the Shinigami from before?"
The speaker was a tall woman with dark skin, long golden hair braided into three thick cords, and sharp green eyes that gleamed beneath her half-covered face. She wore a distinctive white jacket that concealed her hollow mask fragment and the number 3 etched beneath her right breast. Her presence exuded quiet strength and command.
She was Tia Harribel, Espada No.3—the sole female among the Espada and the embodiment of Sacrifice.
Her figure was graceful yet powerful, her voice steady and composed. Harribel's hollow fragment covered the lower half of her face and extended down her chest, a white shell-like armor that gave her an air of both beauty and restraint.
Before returning to her own quarters, she had felt the surge of overwhelming Reiatsu erupting from the canopy of Las Noches. Initially, she had ignored it, assuming it was Aizen's doing. But when Ulquiorra's and Gin's spiritual pressures had dropped sharply, concern had driven her here.
Among the Espada, Ulquiorra's loyalty to Aizen was absolute—but Harribel's came close. She was not driven by blind worship, as was Zommari Rureaux of Espada No.7, who revered Aizen like a god. Her loyalty stemmed from reason and conviction, not faith.
Behind her stood three Arrancar women—her Fracción.
To her left was Apacci, Espada No.54, with short dark-blue hair and horns curving from her head. To her right stood Mila Rose, Espada No.55, with bronze skin and long flowing brown hair. Between them was Sung-Sun, Espada No.36, with calm eyes and long, silky black hair that draped elegantly over her face.
Together they knelt before Aizen, their movements disciplined, their voices soft.
"Master Aizen," they said in unison, bowing deeply.
The air grew still again within the grand white hall of Las Noches, Aizen's quiet smile never fading as his gaze swept across his loyal army—each of them unknowingly standing within the palm of his hand.
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