The captains and vice-captains gathered at the meeting were no strangers to the name Uehara Shiroha.
His unorthodox style, striking appearance, and elegant demeanor made him impossible to ignore. Even if one disregarded his abilities, his presence alone was enough to leave an impression.
But the real reason his name was known throughout the ranks was simple—Uehara Shiroha was a genius.
However, in this room filled with captains and vice-captains, the word "genius" meant little.
Everyone here was a genius.
No one doubted that Uehara Shiroha was talented, but just how strong could a Seventh Seat truly be? He had been a Shinigami for less than twenty years—barely a blink in the lifespan of Soul Society's elite Shinigamis.
Could someone so young truly handle such an important role?
Doubt flickered through the eyes of many present, but no one voiced their concerns aloud.
After all, questioning Captain-Commander Yamamoto's orders on such an occasion was unthinkable.
At that moment, Kyoraku Shunsui waved at Uehara Shiroha.
Without hesitation, Uehara stepped forward, appearing at Kyoraku's side in an instant.
Despite standing before some of the strongest Shinigami in Soul Society, his expression remained completely relaxed—even leisurely.
It was as if their silent skepticism didn't concern him in the slightest.
As Uehara Shiroha stood before the gathered Shinigami, several captains reacted differently to his presence.
The bloodthirsty smile of Kenpachi Zaraki stretched wider, his battle-hungry aura flaring wildly. His mere presence radiated a murderous intent so dense that lower-ranking officers instinctively backed away—none daring to stand within a hundred meters of him.
Meanwhile, the cold and calculating Captain of the Second Division, Suì-Fēng, narrowed her eyes. A shadow flickered across her face, as if recalling an unpleasant memory tied to Uehara Shiroha.
At the same time, the ever-smiling Aizen Sōsuke, Captain of the Fifth Division, cast a brief but piercing glance at Uehara. His usual warm and gentle eyes flashed with something indescribable—a sharp glint that disappeared just as quickly as it came.
Each captain had their own thoughts, but Uehara Shiroha ignored them all.
He had nothing to prove.
Stepping forward, Kyoraku Shunsui, now officially the General Commander of the Hueco Mundo Expeditionary Force, raised his voice.
He spoke with the weight of tradition, reciting the long-standing pre-war oath:
"We now march toward the battlefield!
Believe it! Our blades shall never break!
Believe it! Our hearts shall never waver!
Even if we are apart, our will remains unshaken!
Swear upon this! Even if the earth crumbles beneath our feet, we shall return alive!"
A wave of energy rippled through the assembled forces.
Shinigami throughout the ranks clenched their fists, eyes burning with determination. Their anticipation for the coming battle surged.
Standing beside them, Yamamoto Genryūsai Shigekuni—the ancient and revered Captain-Commander—slowly opened his eyes just a fraction.
The moment his gaze shifted, an invisible pressure filled the air.
A weight heavier than a mountain crashed down upon the entire venue. The sheer density of his Reiatsu was suffocating, carrying with it a heat that seemed to burn through reality itself.
Even captains felt their breath hitch.
The sheer authority of the oldest Shinigami commanded absolute respect.
His voice, though simple and calm, resonated like a hammer striking iron.
"Good luck to all. Let's go."
Those words alone sent the entire army into motion.
Before Kyoraku Shunsui could even give the order, Kenpachi Zaraki let out a booming, arrogant laugh.
"All the prey inside is mine! If anyone dares to take 'em from me—I'll cut them down!"
Without another word, he leapt into the gate, his ragged haori billowing behind him.
Following his lead, the Shinigamis of the 11th Division—rowdy, battle-crazed, and grinning with bloodlust—charged forward after their captain, disappearing into the swirling vortex.
Kyoraku sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
"Ahh… there's really no stopping that guy."
Reluctantly, he followed into the Hueco Mundo Gate.
Ise Nanao, ever the diligent Vice-Captain, clutched a book tightly to her chest, preparing to step forward.
But before she could move, a hand gently pulled her back.
Uehara Shiroha.
Unlike the others who rushed forward, Uehara stood completely at ease, seemingly in no hurry.
Instead, he turned to the frail yet ever-dignified Ukitake Jūshirō and struck up a casual conversation.
"I didn't expect you to attend this ceremony, Captain Ukitake. How's your health?"
Ukitake gave a small smile, though his usual persistent cough soon followed.
"Ahh, I'm fine... cough... cough... I wouldn't miss a day like this... cough..." He barely managed to finish the sentence before the fits continued.
Shinigami around them shot confused glances, unsure whether they should be impressed or concerned.
Meanwhile, Ise Nanao was left speechless.
Was it really okay to be so laid-back when an expedition to Hueco Mundo was already underway?
Seemingly ignoring the tension, Uehara Shiroha casually glanced at Captain-Commander Yamamoto, who had returned to his meditative state.
"...Not much of a talker, huh?" Uehara muttered, receiving zero response.
Finally, as the last of the forces disappeared into the gate, Uehara stretched lazily.
"Alright, rearguard duty successfully completed. Time to go."
Ise Nanao stared at him, then at the other captains who had already left.
"...Was that even necessary?" she mumbled.
Ignoring her skepticism, Uehara strolled toward the Hueco Mundo Gate.
As they stepped forward, a towering black vortex swallowed them whole.
The world shifted.
Inside, the passage was endlessly dark, stretching forward like an infinite tunnel.
This was the [Dangai]—the interdimensional corridor connecting realms.
Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the Human World all drifted within the vast, chaotic expanse known as the [Black Cavity].
The Dangai served as the stable bridge between them, an artificial construct that prevented the dimensions from colliding.
In contrast, the Hollows' method of travel—the [Garganta]—was crude, unstable, and inherently chaotic.
As they walked, several red Hell Butterflies fluttered ahead, guiding the way.
Ise Nanao followed quietly, but a strange sensation crept into her heart.
Here, in this void-like passage, the very concept of time felt distorted.
A strange unease stirred within her.
But then, she looked ahead.
There, walking confidently and without hesitation, was Uehara Shiroha.
Seeing his unshaken composure, a surprising sense of calm washed over her.
Her thoughts settled.
Focusing once more, she quickened her pace.
Suddenly—
The darkness shattered.
Stepping forward, Uehara Shiroha emerged into an endless desert.
The air was cold, the land barren.
Above them, an eternal crescent moon hung in the sky, casting a ghostly silver glow over the lifeless dunes.
In the distance, the assembled Shinigami forces stood solemnly, their presence alone filling the desolate land with an air of tension.
Behind him, Ise Nanao took in the eerie scenery.
"So… this is Hueco Mundo," she murmured. "It's… so empty."
She had read countless descriptions of this realm in textbooks.
But seeing it with her own eyes was something else entirely.
A small smirk tugged at Uehara Shiroha's lips.
Gazing at the moonlit wasteland, his voice carried a chilling excitement.
"Such a vast canvas…" he mused.
"Tonight, I'll paint with blood and fire."
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