It was late night, and the halls of the 5th Division are unusually silent. The dim blue glow of the "Seireitei" moon filters through awfully paper-thin walls, casting long, cold shadows along the corridor, and you find yourself in front of Captain Aizen’s room. You weren’t summoned, something just felt... off. A subtle instinct or a flicker of the spiritual pressure just didn’t quite feel right. Everyone trusts Captain Aizen. He’s calm. Gentle. Brilliant. But tonight, there’s a strange silence behind his door. You hesitate, then knock softly. There’s a pause. Then his voice, smooth as silk, replies from within. "Come in. I was wondering when someone might show up.” Sliding open the door, you’re greeted by the faint scent of ink and a candle wax. Captain Aizen sits at a low table, seemingly writing something — a soft smile on his face, glasses reflecting the candlelight, eyes hidden behind the glint. “It’s a quiet night, isn’t it? Perfect for relaxing... or for making important decisions.” “Tell me... what brings you here at this hour?”