"I am Szayelaporro Granz. As for the King of Hueco Mundo..." Szayelaporro trailed off. "If there are no other tactless fools who dare to claim that title, then that would be me."
Szayelaporro looked at the three Shinigami before him. He smiled without any apparent malice, adjusted his glasses, and continued, "Why don't you share your names as well? Consider them your dying words."
Hearing this, the dozens of Menos surrounding them either glared with vicious intent or chuckled lowly. With a single command from Szayelaporro, they would rush forward and tear these three foolish intruders to shreds.
"Such arrogance!" Tōsen Kaname said in a deep voice, his face filled with displeasure. Ichimaru Gin, on the other hand, appeared completely unbothered, waving his hand dismissively to console him. "Just treat it as a game. Don't take it so seriously."
Hearing this, Szayelaporro clapped his hands loudly, praising Gin. "Exactly! Incompetent complaints will only make you look uglier when you die. If your expression remains this relaxed later on, I might just add you to my private collection. For a lowly creature like you, that is quite a rare honor."
"And what about you?" Turning to Aizen, who was leading the group, Szayelaporro subconsciously ran his tongue over his upper lip. "You can tell me all your names together. They might come in handy. I always remember the names of my collection very clearly."
Using the misfortune of others to embellish his own twisted sense of nobility instantly reminded Tōsen of a certain someone. Someone with that same insufferable arrogance, who relied on the so-called nobility of violence to ruthlessly snatch away his close friend, tarnishing the very word 'justice.'
The bitter irony was that these words were coming from a Hollow, yet similar sentiments had echoed through the Seireitei long ago. Tōsen gripped the hilt of his sword at his waist. The mistake that had gone uncorrected in the past would be erased today, starting right now!
Before the blade could even leave its sheath, a hand blocked his path. Even without his sight, Tōsen could feel Aizen's gaze fall upon him.
"Simple slaughter cannot realize your dream. Remember that," Aizen said lightly. There wasn't much blame in his tone, but Tōsen knew it was a reprimand. Taking a deep breath to suppress the surging rage in his heart, Tōsen replied in a low voice, "I was reckless, Lord Aizen."
"It seems my collection will only have two additions at most." A short distance away, Szayelaporro shook his head in profound disappointment and continued, "Stupid and ugly. Don't you agree, Aizen?"
The corners of Aizen's mouth curved upward. Instead of answering Szayelaporro's question, he slowly drew the Zanpakutō from his waist and spoke softly, "Judging by your words, you must have a deep appreciation for collections. Then, please take a look at my blade—Kyōka Suigetsu. Is it ugly, or is it beautiful?"
Szayelaporro cast a fleeting glance at it and said disdainfully, "It's completely ordinary. It doesn't even qualify as ugly." He raised his eyes to look at Aizen and sneered, "If this is what you cherish, then my collection count will have to drop by another one."
"Did you really see my blade? Do you truly have the ability to see everything clearly? In such a narrow cave." Aizen held his Zanpakutō horizontally and continued, "Would you like to see something more real, something more beautiful?"
"A very interesting proposition." Szayelaporro's interest was slightly piqued. He pointed at Aizen and commanded, "Then show me. I might just change my mind and let you leave."
"Haven't you been looking all along?" Aizen chuckled lightly. Under Szayelaporro's slightly confused gaze, he rotated the Zanpakutō in his hand and slowly opened his five fingers. "Shatter, Kyōka Suigetsu."
A crimson, blood-red hue suddenly filled the entire world. Piercing, high-pitched shrieks echoed from all directions. They were mountains of flesh in various grotesque shapes, the sound of erupting red geysers tearing through the air.
As the red tide continuously drained away, these fleshy mountains lost their former solidity, collapsing to the ground into puddles of mottled, colorful mud.
Szayelaporro stared at his fallen subordinates one by one. From their agonizing expressions, he could tell they hadn't died without resistance or consciousness.
Why did this happen? Why didn't I react at all? It was a long-absent, bone-chilling deterrence, exactly the same as Lord Ao's.
No, wait. A sudden doubt arose in Szayelaporro's mind. To slaughter them all without him even reacting—could Lord Ao even do such a thing?
"Do you see it? The scenery you couldn't see before."
Szayelaporro looked toward the voice. The Shinigami named Aizen was already standing right in front of him. With just a lift of his hand, Szayelaporro could tear him to pieces.
But could he really? Perhaps he had already been torn to pieces himself, and the button to his utter destruction was resting right in this Shinigami's hand.
"I see a little of it. It is the broader world I have always been pursuing."
"Submit to me, and I will take you to a higher level, into a brand new world," Aizen said at a measured pace. For a King of Hueco Mundo who willingly left his throne empty, what he sought was exactly what Aizen could bestow.
Szayelaporro froze for a moment, the light gradually returning to his eyes. The orders Lord Ao had left behind were precisely for this day, for this very person standing before him...
Szayelaporro placed his right hand over his chest and once again bowed his arrogant head to a Shinigami. "Lord Aizen!"
...
"Hmm? Has it already begun?" Roca put down the half-knitted garment in her hands. Staring at her slightly numb index finger, she muttered a complaint to herself, "It's only been a few days..."
Her left hand gently touched the white crown on her head. She closed her eyes and silently chanted in her heart, 'Las Noches has changed hands. Please follow the plan and temporarily forget each other's existence.'
'Understood!'
'Got it.'
Receiving their responses, Roca opened her eyes, picked up the unfinished clothing beside her, and resumed humming a tune. Seth, who had been waiting on the side for a long time without receiving any orders, took the initiative to ask, "Boss, should I head back now to protect Lord Ashido?"
"Didn't I just tell you that?"
"Uh, no..."
"Well, I'm telling you now, aren't I?" Roca asked carelessly. Seeing Seth nod, her tone sharply shifted into a scolding bark. "Then hurry up and go!"
"Yes!" Seth yelled. Just as he was about to open a Garganta to leave, Roca spoke up again.
"Be careful. Be a little more afraid of death than you usually are."
"Got it, Boss!"
...
"Instructor Chōzuka, the seam on your sleeve is coming undone."
"I know." Kōe pulled out the broken thread from his cuff with a look of utter disgust. "Do you truly have the ability to see everything clearly? In such a narrow cave."
"Wasn't it my strike just now that cut it open?" Abarai Renji yelled at the top of his lungs, genuinely believing his sword had actually hit something.
"Trying to land a hit on me? You brats are still a hundred years too early!" Kōe mercilessly shot down the overconfident youths led by Renji. Yet, in his mind, the conversation he once had with Szayelaporro surfaced.
'And then?'
'And then hand Las Noches over to its next master, and wait for the day I take it back.'
It seemed Las Noches had now been handed over to its next master.