Chapter 36

Lilynette felt numb.

A cold and empty sensation taking root from within her that caused her to rein in on herself, her knees pulling up to her chest as her arms wrapped around them.

The howls continued.

Persistent yet anxious.

Familiar yet not.

"I'll protect you."

She swallowed, her lips gradually pursing.

Why did it hurt so much? Not in the physical sense, but in the mere thought of words whose meaning should have had nothing to do with her.

Starrk.

Starrk.

The name repeated in her mind, like a dagger gauging out her soul. Where were you?

An inaudible sob left her mouth, the action unnoticed by Silent who was next to her and watching Ichigo.

Sand blew across her face. Particles carried up by a still wind lifting up the tresses of her hair to reveal moistened eyes, tears streaking down her cheeks which she hid by bowing her head and pressing her face to her knees.

She wanted to laugh at herself, at her un-hollow-like behaviour, but all she could do was shiver as the howls ceased, the silence piercing deep into her psyche. Her hands balled into fists, a lump forming in her throat that wouldn't go away.

The subdued sniffles came almost without warning, her complexion paling as an inexplicable desire to roar welled up from within her like water striking floodgates. Worse, the feeling intensified when she caught sight of the moon in the distance, an ethereal glowing white. Of cloudless skies and vacant nights.

A moon that was forever the same,

A lonely mountainside where only he was missing.

Her expression stilled, a bottomless sense of loss overwhelming her as she crumbled in on herself, a subconscious attempt at making herself as small as possible.

Nothing made sense, the jubilant mood she had been in before long since faded as her gaze left Ichigo, Nel, and Silent and towards the direction where the howls had stopped.

Alone.

Always alone.

The barrenness of the sand around her never felt so empty.

She shook her head in denial.

No. No.

She wasn't alone anymore. There was Shirou, Nel, Silent, the three hags, and everyone else around her that would gesture to her in greeting. So why? Why did it suddenly feel as if it were all wrong?

"Take it."

A soft yet strong voice, caring and patient echoed in her ears. The kind that raised the hairs at the back of one's neck,

"I can't do much for you as I am now but the least I can do is make you this food with all my effort."

"Hollows don't need food," she mumbled out unintentionally in a choked voice barely above a whisper, her lips mouthing the words as she trembled visibly. "There's no need to go out of your way."

"Even still, we are Family aren't we?"

Her body stilled, as if sapped of all energy, the wind blowing over her unable to illicit a single reaction even as she felt someone land beside her.

Starrk appeared, solemn and frowning uncharacteristically, gently taking her into his arms and speeding off without another word.

She didn't resist; she could understand the kind of thoughts and emotions Starrk was experiencing exactly, because he too was like her. Her arms subconsciously wrapped around him, seeking him out for a comfort that was inexplicable.

For 'Starrk' had always been her only support.

She did not know where they were going; in fact, Starrk probably did not know either.

The only thing that mattered was that they needed time to think.

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Nothing.

Not a single response. At least not the one he was looking for.

He stared out into Hueco Mundo's vast expanse and didn't know what to feel. On one hand, he knew that he had saved Coyote, but on the other, it was clear that she wasn't around. Of course, it was possible that she was in the Human World, but the odds of such a thing were too low to consider. After all, the presence of a hollow would immediately draw the attention of Shinigami and with fewer areas unpopulated by humans; the chances of remaining undetected were abysmal.

For Coyote and many hollows who had lived and experienced the harsh life of the hunted, there was no way that they would willingly return to such an oppressed lifestyle.

Therefore, the fact that she was gone was like an unbearable weight pressing down on his shoulders. More so, because he had made certain that his past self had saved her.

His eyes narrowed under the light of the moon, the bronze orbs seemingly peering at the entirety of the world yet incapable of finding the person that mattered.

Gradually, his brows furrowed together in helplessness, understanding that there was nothing that he could do anymore. However, he hadn't given up.

There must have had been a reason why Coyote had reminded him of Starrk and Lilynette in the past, but no matter how he thought about it, it didn't make sense. Regardless of the similarities, Coyote was one person, not two.

Starrk and Lilynette each had their own distinct personalities.

Likes and dislikes.

Habits and experiences.

They were what shaped an individual to become who they were, and Starrk and Lilynette were too different from Coyote.

Starrk was perhaps the most akin to her, but other than his general silence, strength, and disposition, he was nothing like her.

Quiet yet motivated.

Idle, yet not lazy.

A strong woman who spent her days holding up the responsibilities she had placed upon herself in payment for the offerings she took from the humans.

Starrk's personality in contrast was far too inferior to compare.

It wasn't until the man moved into action that everyone's impression of him being 'useless' ever changed.

Lilynette on the other hand, was a bigger puzzle. She wasn't Coyote, but her resemblance to the shrine girl of the past was uncanny. As his past self had been unconscious for most of the time at the temple side-house, he was uncertain of her temperament, but he felt that it was eerily close to how Lilynette would have had acted like.

And yet, as much as he wanted to dwell on the topic, he wasn't exactly alone at the moment.

"Are you done yet?"

A trace of derision flashed across Aizen's face, but it was gone too quickly to ascertain.

Shirou didn't comment on what he had seen as in context, suddenly howling without warning nor reason was grounds enough for Aizen to doubt his mentality. Still, it didn't mean that he wanted to explain himself, and therefore, he merely nodded at Aizen's inquiry; making a mental note to question Lilynette at a later date.

The corners of Aizen's lips quirked into a wry smile, not pressing for an answer he knew he wouldn't receive.

On the other hand, Shirou didn't bother answering Aizen's previous question about his lack of spiritual energy either. For it wasn't that he didn't have any spiritual energy, but more likely because Aizen couldn't sense it with his current state of being.

In fact, it was all around.

All one had to do was breathe or channel the spiritual energy that saturated the very air.

It was a World of Unlimited Blades.

An armory without life, yet still a part of him.

The desolate aspect of his soul imposing on the realms and sustaining every hollow within Hueco Mundo.

This was his world. His power realized.

None able to match him within its confines.

His back straightened as he regarded Aizen quietly, the man in turn doing the same to him, creating a taut atmosphere. It wouldn't be a lie to admit that Aizen had purposely or inadvertently done him a favour, but at the same time, the fact that he couldn't see through Aizen was grounds for caution. Aizen reminded him too much of a fake-priest he had known in the Human World, Kirei Kotomine. A man who hid sinister ulterior motives behind an approachable and amicable facade.

"You can read my thoughts about as well as I can read yours I presume?" Aizen began unperturbed, a tilt to his lips. "Therefore, you should understand that anymore precautions we might have towards each other are simply a waste of time with nothing to gain. Thus, is the concept of mutual benefit. Hindering you at this point isn't in my best interest, likewise you hindering me will make it harder to reach the Soul King's Palace."

His brows creased together at Aizen's words. In regards to the Soul King's Palace, Aizen had mentioned it before, but had never actually explained his method.

"What exactly is the Soul King's Palace?" He inquired watching the way Aizen seemed to be waiting for the question.

Aizen nodded his head before explaining.

"The Soul King's Palace, as the name itself implies, is the dimension which houses the Soul King. Generally speaking, its impenetrable due to its defenses, seventy-two barriers between it and the Seireitei with further reinforcement from a wall of sekkiseki rock. However, there is a way."

Aizen raised a finger.

"A Royal Key, simply called an Ōken." Aizen adjusted his glasses as he continued. "As can be assumed, acquiring it in a legitimate matter is impossible, but forging it isn't."

"The fact of the matter is that I believe you won't condone the means in which I intend to forge this key," Aizen's tone was tentative, almost resigned.

For a man like Aizen, unless he was absolutely confident in his odds, then he wouldn't act rashly. The fact that he couldn't feel Shirou's spiritual energy led his mind to a conclusion he didn't want to consider but had to. In which case, he wasn't in a position of equal ground. Smart as he was, he knew he had to be the first to give way in such a situation.

"And what requirements are necessary?"

The way Shirou spoke was less opposing, possibly due to the fact that Aizen didn't seem to have any intentions of deceiving him.

"First we need a spiritual ground in which to craft the key, Karakura Town in the Human World can suffice for a location," Aizen began to list slowly, ignoring the twitch that formed on Shirou's brow on the mention of the human town.

After all, Karakara town was still fresh in Shirou's mind, rather it was more of a burnt village the last time he had seen it. It was also the place where everything began and ended.

"Continue," he prompted when he realized that Aizen had stopped prematurely to let him process the information.

"Well then, with the spiritual ground located, all that's necessary is the strength of one's Soul."

Aizen paused.

Meanwhile Shirou didn't see anything disagreeable with the requirements until he realized the true meaning of Aizen's following words.

"One-hundred-thousand of them."

A memory flashed in his mind. The destruction wrought by a flame that should never have had been brought too close to the earth.

Embers floating in the wind, and the pungent odor of carbonized flesh and ash.

A little girl staring off into a cloudless moon, alone.

His bands balled into fists.

What Aizen was implying was to do something no different from what Yamamoto had done in the past, and the destruction he wrought onto the innocent with his presence alone. Worse yet, Aizen would do so intentionally to harvest the necessary amount of souls.

"No, out of the question," he was quick to deny, glaring with his eyes.

Aizen shrugged without a care. "Then what do you suppose we do? Without the protection of those souls, any individual thinking to access the Soul King's Palace would be reduced to nothing from the friction of passing through the seventy-two barriers." He said complaisantly.

Shirou remained silent in contemplation, but he realized that he couldn't think of anything

Frustrated, he could only leave the matter aside, but certainly not under Aizen discretion.

"Leave the problem to me. I'll think of something," he said sternly.

Aizen eyed him critically, but let the matter slide as he had his own considerations to address.

"Fine, I'll leave the matter to you, but you have to understand that the problem can't be left unsolved for too long. A past colleague of mine, an acquaintance if you will, named Urahara may have had already deduced my ultimate goal."

"Kisuke Urahara?"

The name surfaced in his mind, someone Aizen had once mentioned before and the very same person who had injured Brans. Subsequently, the impression he had of Kisuke was far from pleasant, more so when Brans had recently explained that he had tried to reason with Kisuke before the confrontation.

"Yes, he's exactly the man I warned you of in the past," A vigilant expression made its way onto Aizen's face, his mouth curving downwards. "Give that man enough time and he'll probably devise a method to make it impossible to enter the Soul King's Palace even with the two requirements necessary to create an Ōken."

He fell silent at Aizen's admission, as an invisible weight seemed to have placed itself on his shoulders.

"Even still, I'll find a way. End of discussion." He remained persistent, watching as Aizen sighed in response.

A tense silence followed soon after but ultimately Aizen did something he had never done before, prompted by the incessant nagging of his very own Zanpakuto spirit.

Kyoka Suigetsu pouted in the air, visible not only to Aizen but to Shirou as well, her clear eyes and calm features tilting upwards as she nodded her head.

"Very well," Aizen conceded, growing slightly entertained at the way Kyoka's calm façade gradually melted, as if happy that her acquaintances were finally getting along.

As many question as Aizen had about Kyoka's materialization, most of them would have to wait until they were in private. Meanwhile, Kyoka herself willingly dissipated after giving both Aizen and Shirou one last look to convey that she didn't want either of them to fight.

It was an amusing sight, and one that Aizen would have to ponder on for Kyoka Suigetsu was created from a portion of his own soul. In turn, she served as a reflection of another aspect of himself.

Nevertheless, it wasn't a pressing matter.

Clearing his throat, Aizen's disposition shifted into something not quite cordial, but not quite aggravating either.

"As I'm going to leave the issue regarding the souls to you, there are still many things I have to do in advance, and you hindering me will only serve to hamper our mutual progress," Aizen genuflected jokingly.

Shirou raised a brow.

"You are asking for permission to move about on your own in Hueco Mundo?" He summarized without a second thought.

"Simply said, yes," Aizen freely admitted without a change in expression. "There are many things that need to be done and other hollows you perhaps haven't met yet under my command. Szayelaporro Granz for example can aid me in varying technological facets, not to mention that there's still the matter of creating what I call Espada with the Hogyoku. A similar experience to what you had experienced, but the lack of spiritual energy I can sense from you leaves me a tad disconcerted."

"Do what you will Aizen," he crossed his arms together, looking out towards the vast dunes in the distance, specifically at a certain point before shifting his attention back.

"In that case, you'll have to pardon me for my urgency," saying that, Aizen promptly left in the direction where he knew Harribel, and the other Hollows were.

Shirou didn't stop him, he too had things that he needed to do.

Hueco Mundo was his world, and as such, he didn't need to worry about what Aizen may do because he could sense him; Aizen's spiritual energy distinct from the other hollows due to its purity which stood in contrast to the baleful aura of hollows. In that regard however, he became keenly aware of several others within Hueco Mundo's sands.

Shinigami.

His expression turned frigid.

He didn't have any pleasant memories about Shinigami to speak of, and the fact that they had instigated him into action again and again was evidence enough that they would never get along.

They had hurt Brans and Lilynette.

They had captured Silent without any regard for consequences.

Upholders of Justice, and integrity, Shinigami were simply unable to reflect that role. He had seen better.

An Ideal King of the white walls of Camelot, taking upon the burdens of its people and shouldering them without complaint.

The presence of the Shinigami he was currently feeling other than Aizen and the others was enough for him to act. Because if there was one lesson he had learned about Shinigami, it was that they were never far from trouble.

He took a single step, and he vanished.

There was no gust of wind nor burst of spiritual energy.

Only the sound of blowing zephyrs.

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The moment Soifon felt that something was wrong; it was too late to react.

The sands around her whipped up into a swirling storm that obscured her vision, tiny grains finding their way through the smallest openings in her garments and rubbing uncomfortably against her skin. A few even landed in her eyes, prompting them to water as she rubbed them incessantly in annoyance.

She dropped the device Yoruichi had intrusted to her from Urahara and signalled for the other members of the second Division alongside her to come to a stop and gather.

The sandstorm came from nowhere, the ferocity of it giving her an ominous premonition.

As the Captain of the Second Division and the Special Task Force of the Soul Society, she had long since learned to trust her senses. Every pore and fiber of her body was currently warning her that death was coming.

It was a power that she and the others couldn't possibly hope to contend with, the ground seemingly coming alive as an illusory world of steel flashed within their eyes.

"C-Captain, the sand," one of her subordinates exclaimed.

Looking down at her feet, her countenance turned grim before she and the others vacated the area with post haste.

Something about Hueco Mundo had changed, and there was no telling what this observation entailed.

The monolithic gear the party had seen before was gradually beginning to turn, having a direct correlation with the sandstorms in the area. Clank after clank, the gear accelerated, flashes of a bronze horizon emerging in the distance, containing a figure whose presence not even she could see through.

"Activate the return device, now."

Her voice was urgent, pressing.

Staring at the approaching figure, she had assumed that the only one who could possibly cause her to sweat visibly with his mere presence was the Vasto of White.

Yet, she was wrong.

The sound of chattering teeth echoed beside her, but she was too preoccupied to glance away. Staring ahead, the man drawing closer didn't appear anything like the King of Hollows she had seen in the Seireitei.

The feeling she got from her intuition was different, smothering.

Unlike the others who were ignorant about the situation they were facing, she could understand it clearly.

If they fought, they would die.

If they ran, they would still die.

It was a hopelessness she had never once felt. This wasn't the power of an average opponent, but a foe on another plane of existence. The bleakness of the situation caused her countenance to fall further, but she dared not take her gaze away from the approaching enemy. The only chance she and the others had was to vacate the dimension, but evidently, her subordinates had other opinions.

"B-But Captain, what about the mission?" One of her subordinates hesitated.

She swallowed, a bead of sweat dripping down from her chin before she replied in a clipped tone.

"There won't be a mission if you all delay any longer. Hurry!"

A shiver travelled down her back, a premonition of an innumerable number of swords pinning her in place causing her to gasp.

No. No.

She shook her head to rid herself of the vision her expression ghastly.

W-What kind of Hollow was this.

She had seen the power of the Vasto of White, but the feeling she was getting now was inexplicable. It was as if she wasn't facing just one soul, but hundred or perhaps thousands of souls compacted into one.

Spirits residing in an immortal landscape.

She staggered back, engraving the scene she saw before her in her mind before she suddenly lost sight of the figure in front of her in her moment of distraction.

Fuck.

Her eyes dilated.

"HURRY AND GO!" She yelled out, brandishing her sword.

What came before her next in a flash of speed was a hand seeking to clasp onto her.

She reacted immediately, her sword striking the hand, and yet she paled as a result.

A shower of sparks flew outwards, the noise piercing to her ears along with a realization she didn't want to believe.

"I-It didn't cut," she stammered out, her surprise unable to be hidden.

Different from other Shinigami, she regularly condensed her spiritual energy to a single point on her sword for increased penetration. The types of defenses she couldn't pierce through could be counted on the fingers of one's hands. The fact that mere skin would have to be added to the list deeply unsettled her. For it denoted the strength of her enemy; one that she admittedly had no intelligence on, and was fighting on its home ground.

Anxiety pushed her to the one conclusion she had had from the beginning.

Retreat.

The situation was too unfavorable.

She promptly pushed off her blade and flew backwards; letting out a subconscious sigh of relief when she noticed the completion of the return device Urahara had created.

Tumbling in the sand, she dove and fell into the opened tear in space her subordinates had hastily set up before promptly entering, panting for breath. She was the last to go, but as she left Hueco Mundo, the unease she suddenly felt gripped her like a reaper's scythe; a pair of unblinking eyes watching her leave the entire time.

It was like the hollow before her was contemplating whether or not to catch her, but that was impossible without obstructing the world's order.

She was already within the tear between dimensions. She should have had been feeling safe, but reality proved her wrong.

It was as if she were under the gaze of a judge. An executioner.

She couldn't understand it.

Since when did such a hollow exist?

With all kinds of thoughts flooding her mind, the only one that remained was the relief of escaping that monster's gaze, and the disappointment of failing Yoruichi's expectations. In exchange though, perhaps she had learned of something even more vital. A new piece of intelligence.

Another Hollow the Soul Society would have to be weary of.

A reminder of an old acquaintance Yamamoto wouldn't take well to recalling.