The pale moon hung high over Hueco Mundo, ever still, ever watching.
Within the alabaster fortress of Las Noches, time seemed frozen—measured only by the flick of candlelight or the quiet turn of a page.
In one of the grand chambers built for the Espada—a small palace within a palace—Kurokujaku Tsukikage, the Tercera Espada, lounged in a crescent-shaped chair of bleached bone, his amber eyes scanning an open book.
The chamber was immaculate, if unsettling in its perfection. Bone-pale walls lined with tall windows let in the haunting moonlight, and high shelves wrapped around the room, filled with scrolls, tomes, and records—Soul Society artifacts, offered by Aizen himself.
Currently, Kurokujaku's long, claw-tipped fingers flipped a page in a black-bound tome titled:
"Advanced Kido: The Hidden Lattice of Hado 80–99"
He murmured thoughtfully.
"Rikujōkōrō is simple and elegant, but Kurohitsugi…"
He traced a finger in the air, mimicking the structure of the forbidden spell. The air hummed faintly.
"Such elegance in restraint. A cage shaped by metaphysical law… yet still crude compared to our own instincts."
He stood, bare feet gliding across the polished stone. Robes trailing like dark feathers. He crossed the room and began loosely reenacting the Hado forms from memory.
His expression remained neutral—but his mind was elsewhere.
A fragment of memory, unbidden, floated to the surface.
A Time Before Las Noches
A swirling dune. A shattered plateau.
An Adjuchas—himself, smaller, sharper, far weaker observed from above. There, a shark-like Hollow, broad-shouldered and armored in sleek dorsal plating, stood protectively in front of three lesser Adjuchas.
But what had caught his attention then wasn't the protector—
It was the enemy he was fighting. Some strange aberration of a Hollow, one that possessed power above its class, a form he now knew was an incomplete, premature version of his current rank.
He remembered the thrill. The stalk. The final bite.
He devoured it.
But now—
He recalled the shark-Hollow. He had let him go. Unbothered. Dismissed.
Kurokujaku's eyes narrowed.
"He guarded others even in futility… loyalty."
He whispered the word like it was foreign to his tongue.
He walked back to his chair and closed the book gently.
Another spark lit behind his eyes. A flicker of realization, interest blooming.
"Perhaps I dismissed something... valuable."
With that thought, he stood fully, walked to the wide arched window, and stepped onto the ledge.
The wind rolled in, dry and silent. He glanced once more into his room, then stepped off.
His form fell like a feather before landing gently on the sands below. A small puff of dust lifted around his ankles.
As he took his first step forward, another figure appeared beside him as if woven from shadow.
Aizen.
His tone, as always, was soft.
"You're leaving?"
Kurokujaku didn't look at him. His tone was casual, almost bored.
"You gave me reading material to keep me inside."
He smirked faintly.
"But I've grown curious. About potential... recruitment."
Aizen tilted his head slightly, one hand behind his back.
"I assume this is about an old encounter."
Kurokujaku raised an eyebrow.
"How often do you try to predict my thoughts, Aizen?"
Aizen chuckled.
"Only enough to know your curiosity is dangerous—and entertaining."
His smile widened slightly, unreadable.
"You're the only Espada who's asked me about others. Most are content with power, rank, and pride."
Kurokujaku finally glanced his way, eyes shining like polished amber beneath the moon.
"Maybe I'm just trying to understand the architecture of loyalty. And how far it can bend before it breaks."
He turned, robes rippling, and continued his slow stride across the pale desert.
Aizen stood for a moment, then gave a soft, genuine laugh.
"How fascinating…"
As Kurokujaku vanished into the distance, Aizen's eyes gleamed with subtle intrigue.
"Go then, Tsukikage. Show me what other monsters still sleep in the sands…"
He turned on his heel and began walking back to Las Noches—no need to follow.
For now, the game moved again.
And another piece stirred.
---
The wind whispered faintly across the endless desert of Hueco Mundo, carrying with it the lingering cries of devoured souls and distant battles. But one step cut through that silence like a blade.
A lone figure walked calmly, rhythmically, his robes trailing behind him like the tail of a dark comet. His amber eyes gleamed under the moonlight, sharp and focused, yet far-off in thought.
Kurokujaku Tsukikage had wandered the sands for hours—though to beings like him, time had long since lost meaning.
He paused.
The air shifted.
A pulse.
Soft. Familiar. Old.
A slow smirk crept onto his face.
He inhaled faintly, tasting it.
"There you are…" he whispered.
Then, without warning, his form seemed to melt into the void, as though the night itself had opened to receive him. In his wake, only silence remained.
----
Far from Las Noches, in a cavern of polished bone and bleached rock carved into the side of a crescent-shaped cliff, a small fire of spirit energy flickered low.
Sitting cross-legged near the back of the hollowed-out cave was Tier Harribel, her golden eyes half-lidded, her expression calm and distant.
A jagged arm blade, sleek and dark as obsidian, rested on her lap as she honed it slowly with the edge of a polished femur—more for ritual than need.
She exhaled softly.
"They're late."
As if summoned, three distinct reiatsu signatures flared outside before the sound of sand crunching under claws and hooves echoed inward.
A blur of movement—
"We're back, Tier!"
"I told you I could've taken that one alone, Sung Sun!"
"But you lacked grace. It was painful to watch, honestly."
"Tch. Mila, back me up here!"
Appacci stomped in first, parts of her Hollow mask jutting like horns over her head. She was bruised but beaming with pride.
Sun Sun followed, her serpentine mask fragment curling along her cheek like a vine. Calm as always, arms crossed.
Last was Mila Rose, broad and grinning, adjusting her gauntlets and dragging what looked like a partially devoured Hollow skull.
Tier gave a small, measured nod.
"You fed. Good. Rest."
Appacci flopped onto a rock near the fire.
"Ugh, being Adjuchas is exhausting. Why do we gotta eat like wild beasts to not go backwards?"
Sun Sun arched a brow.
"Because you are a wild beast, perhaps?"
"Say that again, you snake!"
"Enough." Tier's voice cut through the bickering like a blade of still water. Calm, commanding.
Then—
A sound.
Clapping.
Slow. Mocking. Echoing unnaturally in the quiet chamber.
All four Vasto Lorde and Adjuchas went still.
The shadows along the cave's inner wall rippled—like reality had been peeled back. From that tear in darkness, a single figure stepped forth:
Kurokujaku.
Draped in a white uniform now bearing the sigil of the Espada, he stood with his sword sheathed at his side, hands folded behind his back. The polished bone of Las Noches robes contrasted beautifully—and unnaturally—with the natural savagery of the cave.
Only a small fragment of his Hollow mask remained, curling back along the right side of his jaw like a skeletal wingtip. The rest of his features were unmistakably… human.
Yet they all felt it.
Crushing weight.
A pressure so dense and insidious it suffocated the air, even though—they could not sense his reiatsu.
He radiated presence, and yet he was invisible to the spiritual eye.
An impossibility. A contradiction. A predator outside the order of prey.
Tier stood in a flash, blade in hand, her eyes narrowed but calm.
Appacci snarled.
Sung Sun's smile faltered.
Mila Rose dropped her kill.
"Who—" Tier began, her voice as firm as steel.
But Kurokujaku raised one elegant hand, palm outward in a disarming, measured gesture.
"Peace," he said smoothly. "I'm not here to fight."
His voice echoed with quiet command, yet underlined by elegance.
"Only to speak."
They said nothing. Every breath was measured, uncertain.
He took a single step forward.
"I am Kurokujaku Tsukikage… Tercera Espada."
His gaze swept across the cave—assessing, dissecting, seeing.
Then his eyes met Tier's, and though no reiatsu flared, the air bent around him, like gravity tilted in his direction.
"And I believe we may have something to offer each other."
----
The cave's stillness lingered, like the breath held before a blade is drawn.
Tier Harribel didn't lower her weapon.
Her three charges—Appacci, Sung Sun, and Mila Rose—stood behind her, tense and silent, the oppressive air dragging on their instincts like iron weights.
Kurokujaku Tsukikage remained where he stood, hands behind his back, that unreadable half-smile lingering on his face.
"What do you want?" Tier asked, voice quiet but edged with warning.
"To offer a solution," he replied, tone crisp and even. "An answer to a question you haven't yet asked aloud."
He turned slowly, allowing his amber eyes to trace over the three Adjuchas behind her.
"Your… sisters, for lack of a better term. They're bound to you. You shield them. Fight for them. Die for them—if needed. And yet..."
He glanced to Tier again.
"They will regress… without constant feeding. That is the fate of all Adjuchas, isn't it?"
Appacci growled under her breath.
Sung Sun narrowed her eyes.
Mila Rose's fists clenched reflexively.
Tier didn't react, but Kurokujaku didn't need her to.
"You're strong. Incredibly so. But strength alone won't halt time's erosion."
He walked a short circle around the fire, deliberately slow, like a scholar pacing through a lecture.
"What if I told you… they don't have to feed anymore? That they could become… complete? Not Hollow beasts, but Arrancar. Whole."
Sung Sun blinked.
Mila's brow furrowed.
Appacci muttered, "You're lying."
"No," Kurokujaku said, tone mild. "Only offering facts. There is a being, one with vision and power beyond most of this world. He found a method to refine our kind. To break masks not with madness or accident… but with purpose. Controlled evolution."
He turned to Tier fully, hands finally leaving his back.
"Aizen Sōsuke."
Tier's eyes narrowed.
"And he made you like this?"
"No." A pause. "I evolved on my own. Like another of my associates. But I watched him take beasts… and turn them into men and women. Thinkers. Warriors. Leaders."
He looked at the three Adjuchas again.
"He could do the same for them. End their hunger. Solidify their forms."
He raised a hand, gesturing to Tier with quiet reverence.
"And for you… greater power. Greater control. A position of power from which to truly protect those you've sacrificed for all this time."
A flicker passed through Tier's eyes. The flinch was imperceptible—but Kurokujaku caught it.
"Ah," he said softly. "So that's it. Your Aspect of Death is… Sacrifice."
Tier's blade didn't lower.
"And what's yours, preacher?" Appacci spat.
He chuckled once, the sound dry but amused.
"Oblivion." His eyes burned golden now. "The erasure of self, the hunger to consume all meaning, all light. A deeper silence than death itself."
"So you're death incarnate, and you think that makes you fit to lead?" Mila Rose challenged.
Kurokujaku regarded her, and then looked back at Tier.
"She doesn't understand… but you do. Sacrifice is not martyrdom. It's choice. You sever your own path for another's sake. Again and again. Quietly. Relentlessly."
A long silence.
Tier stepped forward slowly, her arm blade still raised, her body taut and dangerous.
"Then prove your superiority."
Kurokujaku blinked… then gave a single soft chuckle.
"Ah… So we've reached that point."
He stepped closer. No spiritual pressure flared. No killing intent leaked out. And yet the cave walls seemed to tremble slightly.
"You think power is measured in brute force. It isn't. But I'll indulge you."
He stood tall, posture regal.
"Do you know what your aspect truly means?"
She said nothing.
"Sacrifice is the act of giving up something precious… for something you value more. So let me give you a choice."
He turned, slowly making his way toward the exit of the cave, the fabric of his coat trailing behind him like a shadow's wing.
"Follow me." His voice echoed, steady. "See the difference for yourself. Witness the distance between us… and decide if you will stay in this cave pretending your strength is enough—"
He paused at the cave mouth.
"—or take my hand and step forward into something greater."
The moonlight caught his profile, casting half of his face in darkness and the other in silver glow.
Tier looked back at her fracción.
Then forward at the Espada.
She made her decision.