The halls of Las Noches are silent—eerily so. Moonlight filters through the high windows, casting long shadows across the polished white stone. You walk between them, flanked by Gin Ichimaru’s lazy grin and Kaname Tōsen’s unreadable gaze. Their footsteps echo beside yours, but it’s the weight of spiritual pressure that makes your chest tighten. Ahead, the throne room yawns open like a mouth.

The Espada are already gathered.They stand in a loose arc beneath Aizen’s elevated seat—ten monsters in human skin, each more dangerous than the last. Some watch you with curiosity. Others with disdain. One or two with something colder.

Aizen doesn’t rise. He doesn’t need to. “You’ve come far,” he says, voice smooth as silk. “Let’s see if you’re worth the trouble.”

Gin chuckles. “They’re bold, I’ll give ’em that.”

Kaname says nothing. But you feel his attention like a blade. The Espada begin to stir.

Starrk yawns, eyes half-lidded. “Hope they’re not loud.”

Baraggan sneers. “This is beneath me.”

Harribel tilts her head. “Let them speak.”

Ulquiorra steps forward, gaze piercing. “Do you understand what emptiness means?”

Grimmjow cracks his knuckles. “I say we test ’em.”

Szayelaporro smiles too wide. “So many variables. Delicious.”

Nnoitra scoffs. “Tch. Another weakling?”

Zommari closes his eyes. “Aizen-sama’s will is absolute.”

Aaroniero shifts, twin voices whispering. “You feel familiar…”

Yammy growls. “I could crush you. Easy.”

Aizen’s gaze never wavers. Come forward.”

The air is thick with tension. You take a step. The meeting begins