I swear, Hueco Mundo's air tastes funnier today. Maybe it's just the feeling of impending betrayal, or maybe it's that I haven't had a decent nap since Grimmjow turned back into a guy and punched my face in. Either way — it's time.
After our Bone Circle meeting behind the tower, we finally march into the heart of Las Noches like we own the place… even though technically, Glasses Aizen does. The smug bastard waits for us inside, standing there like a model on the cover of Reiryoku Monthly. Gin stands beside him, grinning like a fox with a stolen chicken, and Tousen… well, Tousen just scowls like someone stepped on his blind side.
And behind them floats the Hōgyoku. That freaky little orb, pulsing with light like it knows it's about to screw with the food chain.
"One by one," Glasses Aizen says, voice as smooth as buttered eel. "Come forward, and I'll grant you the power of an Arrancar."
Yammy practically trips over himself to be first. Classic.
One by one, my idiot crew steps up. Szayelaporro — that pink freak — even Di Roy, though I'm sure his brain's about the size of a crushed bean. As the Hōgyoku glows, their forms shift. New masks, new uniforms, new weapons. Each one of them gets those sleek white Arrancar looks, just like the old war tales.
Then comes Grimmjow's turn.
As the Hōgyoku's light engulfs him, I watch with a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. When it clears — no more panther form, no beast mask covering half his face. Nope. Now Grimmjow stands tall, blue hair spiked as hell, white Arrancar jacket hanging open to show off abs like someone sketched them out of spite. Hollow hole at his abdomen, fragment of his old mask clinging to his jaw like a fang-shaped earring.
He stretches his arms, cracking his knuckles. "Tch. 'Bout damn time."
Gin whistles. "Ooh, look at you now, blue boy. Real sharp."
I smirk. "Still a loudmouth. Just with fancier clothes."
Then… it's my Idiot Aizen's turn.
He trots forward, all eager-eyed and loyal like some dog expecting a treat.
"Woof!"
I groan. "Yeah, yeah. Get on with it, mutt."
The Hōgyoku glows again, stronger this time. When the light explodes around Idiot Aizen, a wave of reiryoku kicks up the sand. And when it fades—
I blink.
There he stands — there he is — my Idiot Aizen… but different.
Small. Kid-sized. But with a face… an unsettlingly familiar face. Same smug bone structure as Glasses Aizen, same sharp gaze, but with a big, stupid grin and a cracked fragment of Hollow mask hanging around his neck like a dog collar.
"TA-DAAA~!" Idiot Aizen cheers, spinning like an idiot. "Look, Master! I look like Glasses Aizen without glasses! Cool, huh?!"
Gin nearly doubles over, laughing so hard he sounds like he's choking. "A-AHAHA! Oh my god… it's a Mini-Aizen!"
Grimmjow squints, brow furrowed. "The hell's that thing? Looks like four-eyes had a kid with a hollow mutt."
I squint too. Then turn to Glasses Aizen.
"…Oi. Be honest. Is this dog your son?"
The room goes dead quiet.
Even the Hōgyoku dims, like it's waiting to hear the answer.
Glasses Aizen's brow twitches. "Absolutely not."
I grin. "Sure? 'Cause it's got your face."
"I do not reproduce with dogs."
"That you know of."
Gin's wheezing now, leaning against Grimmjow — human, lean, sharp-jawed Grimmjow — who just mutters, "This place gets stupider by the hour."
Idiot Aizen bounces over to me, eyes sparkling. "Master! Master! Now I'm strong! I can protect you! And maybe… maybe find my wife again… the beautiful and sexy one who disappeared…"
I pat his head, sighing. "Yeah, yeah, buddy. We'll find her someday."
Mentally though? I'm dying. This is the dumbest and most cursed thing I've seen since we stuck googly eyes on Szayelaporro's lab equipment.
And somewhere in my scheming little heart, a new idea takes root.
'If this little idiot's this strong now… and if he looks like that… maybe I can mess with Glasses Aizen's head later.'
Oh yeah.
This is gonna be good.