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"The new Wang Xu?"
Moyu's voice tightened with disbelief. A Vasto Lorde-class Menos Grande wasn't born without cost. That kind of evolution—without the Hōgyoku, without Aizen's manipulation—was virtually impossible. Could Aizen himself be in the Forest of Menos? The very idea made the air in Di Yu's chest rise like a pressure spike. Facing Aizen in Hueco Mundo would be electrifying—and lethal. One mistake and you weren't just dead; you reverted to pure spirit particles, assuming Aizen didn't shatter you first.
Asido, observing Moyu quietly, was already losing faith in the Kuchiki heir's reliability. Shifting his gaze, he studied Shihouin Yoruichi instead. Composed, calculating—she bore the gravity of someone accustomed to command. If memory served, she was the head of the Shihouin family. He frowned. His memory blurred around the edges, but it didn't matter. She was dependable.
"I think you misunderstood what I said."
Asido's low voice cut through the tension.
"What do you mean?" Moyu asked, eyes narrowing.
"I don't mean Wang Xu as in a Vasto Lorde who rules by strength alone. I mean it in the truest sense—an evolved Hollow, yes, but one born for dominion."
Realization struck Moyu. The term Wang Xu hadn't referred to power level, but sovereignty. The last to bear the title had been Baraggan Louisenbairn—now the Segunda Espada under Aizen's thumb, stripped of his rule, his pride shattered, mind fraying under humiliation.
Yet Asido claimed a new Wang Xu had arisen in the Menos Forest.
"The domain of the Forest expanded because of this new king," Asido continued. "If nothing interferes, their territory will soon crash against Baraggan's legacy. A battle between the two kings is inevitable."
Moyu processed the implication. A newborn Wang Xu eager for war, possibly deranged, eager to claim dominance without a full grasp of who or what they were up against. Baraggan had ruled Hueco Mundo's skies for centuries and had still been broken by Aizen. Even if the Palace of the Night lay dormant now, it still housed Arrancar—warriors honed by evolution and ambition. If the new Wang Xu thought to challenge them without Arrancar of their own, they were walking into a slaughter.
"Is that what caused the forest to expand?" Yoruichi asked, her tone sharpened with concern for both the world and Soul Society.
"Yes," Asido confirmed. "The birth of a new sovereign catalyzed the evolution of surrounding Hollows. The ground above shifted to reflect that pressure. I've investigated it—this isn't rumor."
Yoruichi exhaled, measured and long. "Then our mission is done. Whatever this Wang Xu is, they won't last."
She turned to Moyu. "Return to the world of the living. There's still time before the three-day limit."
But Moyu hesitated. Nilu clung to him, her tiny arms wrapped around his frame like vines, warm in the otherwise lifeless forest. Something unresolved still lingered.
"You're not going to stop this from happening?" Asido pressed, frustrated by their casual reaction.
Moyu and Yoruichi exchanged glances—tired, knowing ones. Asido had been in this forest too long. He didn't know the scale of the world beyond. Few even in Soul Society knew the full extent of Las Noches's reach. Urahara Kisuke might, but even he understood only fragments.
"If the expansion is just a prelude to war," Moyu said calmly, "then this newborn Wang Xu is marching toward oblivion. No disaster will come of it, only collapse."
Asido stared, unconvinced. "You speak as if you've seen this before."
"I haven't," Moyu replied. "But at the edge of this forest stands Las Noches—Palace of the Night. Its strength rivals Soul Society's. The Wang Xu may think they're ascending, but all they're doing is charging into annihilation."
Las Noches represented the true pinnacle of Hollow evolution. Aside from anomalies like Yamamoto, even Soul Society would suffer losses if they fought them outright. The Menos Forest, despite its depth, was still only the underlayer of Hueco Mundo. To defy Las Noches was to challenge an empire while wielding sticks.
At best, the so-called new king would become a disposable figurehead, betrayed by their own.
Asido's silence stretched into doubt. He wanted to deny Moyu's words but couldn't.
"This is not something you can change," Moyu said. "You may handle an Adjuchas, but could you defeat a Vasto Lorde?"
Asido, while strong among Shinigami, didn't stand a chance against Espada-tier opponents. Without Shikai, he might manage against standard Hollows, even an Adjuchas, but Las Noches wasn't a battlefield he could survive. Not for long.
He said nothing. The truth hung heavy in the air, and his shoulders sagged beneath it.
Yoruichi began assembling the black cavity portal, weaving Kidō with quick, fluid motions. Spiritual anchors flared, forming a one-time gate—crude by Soul Society standards, but effective.
The portal shimmered open. "Time to leave this hell," she said.
Moyu turned to Asido. "Aren't you coming?"
Asido shook his head, voice low. "The Hollows in the living world... I believe they come from this forest. The fewer here, the fewer there. If I keep fighting, maybe I'll make a difference."
Yoruichi and Moyu paused. For a moment, neither spoke. The answer to Asido's question—whether it was all worth it—was written across their faces. The battles ahead would be worse, not better.
Asido didn't wait for them to speak. He fastened the antelope mask to his face again.
"I promised my comrades I'd fight until the end. That hasn't changed."
And just like that, he vanished with shunpo—no further words, no goodbyes.
Moyu and Yoruichi stood in stillness. They understood his conviction, even admired it. Few could cling to principle in a place like this.
"Let's go," Moyu murmured. "He's chosen his path. That's his way of honoring the souls here."
They stepped through the gate. The portal sealed behind them, cutting off the decaying light of the Menos Forest.
Wang Xu's fate was sealed the moment he looked toward Las Noches. He wasn't ascending. He was burning.
And deep in the forest, just moments later, a tall figure emerged from the gloom, dragging behind him the sickle that silenced everything in its wake.
The Fifth Espada—Nnoitra Gilga.
His voice thundered across the forest, twisted with rage.
"She's gone?! That stinking scent—gone?!"
He swung the twin crescent blades, blood still fresh on their edges, feral grin stretching across his face.
"She fled to the world of the living..."
The air cracked, space fracturing like broken glass. The void opened in front of him, swirling with darker promises.
And Nnoitra stepped through.
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