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"Be careful! Enemy attack!"
The lead Shinigami, noticing a figure hovering in the air nearby, spoke gravely to the team behind him.
The squad members, following his orders, drew their Zanpakutō and prepared for battle. But before they could react, the white-armored figure vanished and reappeared before them in an instant.
Only then did they clearly see his appearance. The man before them wore an ornate white armor, its structure resembling the remnants of Hollow masks, yet his garb carried a faint resemblance to the Shinigami's standard death-tyrant uniform.
Aaron's expression remained calm as he observed the leader before him. A flicker of recognition crossed his face.
A Day Earlier
Kuchiki Ginrei, newly appointed Captain of the Sixth Division, received an official directive from Central 46. His mission was clear: retrieve Aaron, a former member of the Hueco Mundo Death Squad, from exile and return him to the Soul Society.
Five centuries had passed since Central 46 had sentenced Aaron to his long service in Hueco Mundo. Though many had forgotten his name, Ginrei had not. As Aaron's peer at the Spiritual Arts Academy, he remembered him well—once hailed as the greatest prodigy in the history of the Soul Society.
Legends about Aaron still circulated among the older generation in Seireitei. Some claimed that the current framework of the Gotei 13 and its strategies bore his influence. Ginrei couldn't help but wonder: What had become of this once-great genius after five hundred years in exile?
As Ginrei and his squad arrived through the Garganta, he immediately spotted the figure of Aaron, standing silently amidst the ruins of Hueco Mundo's barren landscape. The squad tensed at the sight, misinterpreting his imposing presence.
"Lower your guard," Ginrei instructed his subordinates. He stepped forward, scrutinizing Aaron with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Aaron, your five centuries of service have ended. I am here under orders to escort you back to the Soul Society."
After a long pause, Aaron simply replied, "Let's go."
Behind Ginrei, the younger Shinigami began murmuring among themselves.
"Did he really survive five hundred years here alone?"
"Looks like it wasn't easy for him…"
"Maybe he's good at running and hiding."
Ginrei silenced them with a sharp cough, but as he turned back to address Aaron, the exiled Shinigami vanished in a flash step, already heading toward the portal leading to the Soul Society.
On the journey back, Ginrei's squad marveled at Aaron's incredible speed. "He's fast! No wonder he survived here for so long…"
"Living in Hueco Mundo for five centuries… must've been hell."
"Still, his escape skills are top-notch!" one quipped, drawing chuckles.
Ginrei, however, remained silent, his brow furrowed. Aaron's Reiatsu was a mystery—its presence completely undetectable. Stranger still, the hostile Hollows that typically plagued the Garganta were nowhere to be found during their passage. Coincidence? Or something more?
Upon reaching the Soul Society, Aaron stepped into familiar yet alien surroundings. He gazed at Seireitei with a stoic expression as memories flooded his mind.
"Your armor… it carries the essence of Hollows," Ginrei noted, his tone cautious. "What exactly is it?"
Aaron's response was curt. "A collection. Something to pass the time."
Ginrei inspected the intricate armor, noting it was crafted entirely from Hollow masks. The layers of white plates, fused together with precision, spoke of countless battles fought and won.
"Many lives must have ended under your blade," Ginrei observed solemnly.
Aaron's expression remained impassive as he replied, "Not many. Perhaps… a few million."
Ginrei froze, stunned. He shook his head, dismissing the claim as exaggeration. Time, it seems, has made even geniuses prone to boasting, he thought to himself. Still, the weight of Aaron's words lingered uncomfortably in his mind.
"Come. The Captain-Commander is waiting," Ginrei said, steering the conversation back to the task at hand.
They arrived at the First Division's barracks, where Lieutenant Chōjirō Sasakibe greeted them. "Thank you for your efforts, Captain Ginrei. I will escort him from here."
Aaron followed Sasakibe to the Captain-Commander's office. As the doors opened, a familiar voice greeted him.
"Hahaha! Long time no see, kid!"
Ōetsu Nimaiya, the Sword God and creator of the Zanpakutō, appeared before Aaron in a flash step, slapping his shoulder with a grin. "Look at you! That armor's impressive… Wait. Is that made from Hollows?" His eyes widened as he inspected Aaron's attire.
For the first time in years, a faint smile appeared on Aaron's face. "Master Nimaiya… it's been a long time."
Their reunion was interrupted by a booming voice. "Ōetsu, stop making a scene," barked Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni, the Captain-Commander, as he turned to face Aaron.
The air grew heavy as Yamamoto's immense Reiatsu filled the room, bearing down on Aaron like a storm. Yet the younger Shinigami stood firm, unshaken by the oppressive force.
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