Lord Zarion had no idea what to do in those trying times...
In order to reach and rescue one of the besieged planets or an entire fleet under attack, he had to remain stationed within the Soul Society, waiting endlessly for messages to arrive. Yet every time a plea for help finally reached him and he departed swiftly to save that planet or fleet, he would arrive only to find the assault already over — the enemies had withdrawn, and a new devastating offensive had begun somewhere entirely different.
And whenever he returned to the Soul Society, he would find another urgent call for aid waiting for him there, as if the battlefield itself was mocking his every step.
How did Hedrik's generals know the exact locations of all those planets where soldiers hid and regrouped, as if those coordinates were etched upon their palms? No one could tell.
