Killed For 100 Years in Hueco Mundo, Aizen Invited Me To Soul Society! Chapter 347: The Gotei Returns to Hueco Mundo

"The other party has returned to Hueco Mundo."

Upon hearing Ulquiorra’s report, Mazuru’s cold gaze flickered slightly, the light of insight flashing behind those half-lidded eyes.

After Roka took Picaro to the World of the Living, Mazuru had taken a brief interest in the situation. He had casually extended his spiritual perception, keeping half an eye on the movents of that peculiar arrancar. Yet what surprised him wasn’t that Roka dared to go to the World of the Living—it was that she had left so soon, bypassing it entirely and heading straight for the Soul Society.

That act was nothing short of insanity.

After all, Soul Society was the very heart of the shinigami world—their seat of power. Despite the fact that Mazuru himself had utterly crushed the Soul Society’s last expeditionary force, even defeating the formidable Yamamoto Genryusai, the old warhound of the Gotei 13—he never dared to underestimate them. They were resilient. Adaptive. Dangerous.

"First she brazenly infiltrates the Soul Society, and now she returns to Hueco Mundo as if it were nothing." Mazuru murmured aloud. "What is she playing at?"

Standing nearby, Ichimaru Gin narrowed his fox-like eyes, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "You’ve been quite taken with her movents lately, haven’t you?" he said. "That little arrancar. Roka. You think she’s acting on her own?"

"I may have an idea of her intentions." Mazuru replied coolly, but did not elaborate further. Instead, he turned toward Ulquiorra.

"Ulquiorra, continue observing her closely. I want her every step reported."

Hueco Mundo was vast—a desolate sea of sand, stretching endlessly under a blackened sky. Yet there were territories few dared venture into, such as the Forest of nos, ho to the towering nos Grande.

It was a cursed region where spiritual pressure hung heavy like a leaden fog, a place teeming with Gillian and Adjuchas-class hollows.

Szayelaporro had once called this forest ho—long before he was recruited by Baraggan and beca one of the Espada. He had not chosen it for comfort or familiarity. No, the forest was functional.

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It was a breeding ground for raw materials. His laboratory, his sanctum, his temple of flesh and science.

And now, Roka walked that sa path, fear evident in her gait despite her otherwise calm deanor.

"Szayelaporro-sama... where are we going next?" she asked hesitantly. Though she was an arrancar—forrly an Adjuchas-level hollow herself—Roka lacked the violent instincts common to others of her kind. Perhaps it was because she was an artificial creation—Szayelaporro’s twisted craftsmanship, a being lacking the usual drive for conquest or blood.

"East." ca the reply, directly into her mind. Szayelaporro’s voice, still embedded in her consciousness through his fragnted soul.

Guided by his ntal directions, Roka eventually arrived at a remote part of the forest, the sand thinning out to reveal craggy terrain and a narrow cave mouth partially hidden by a protruding boulder. As she stepped inside, the air turned colder, denser with the scent of stale reiatsu and long-forgotten decay.

Then, with a soft ripple in space, a translucent figure erged beside her—glasses gleaming faintly in the dim light. Szayelaporro had materialized, using her Negación abilities as an anchor to briefly manifest.

But his form was weak. His essence still tethered to Roka. He could not maintain it for long.

"This place... nostalgic." he whispered, walking ahead of her.

They traveled deeper into the cave, the path winding until it opened up into a chamber lit faintly by glowing spores Szayelaporro had cultivated decades ago. With a snap of his fingers, a chemical fla sparked to life, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings.

Bottles lined the walls—jarred organs, suspended limbs, green fluids with floating tissue samples. The remnants of failed experints, discarded prototypes, mistakes too interesting to incinerate.

"This was my original laboratory." Szayelaporro said, sweeping his gaze over the grotesque scenery with sothing like fondness. "Though obsolete, these discarded parts still hold value."

Roka remained quiet, unease prickling her skin. Szayelaporro said strange things sotis—half-cryptic, half-insane.

But soon, he began his work.

Without explanation, he set about harvesting old tissues, extracting genetic fragnts and fusing them with spiritual particles. In a matter of hours, a new body was ford—thin and skeletal, yet functioning.

Szayelaporro transferred his consciousness into it. Roka gasped, feeling a sudden void within her as his presence left her mind.

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He flexed his fingers in the new shell.

"Crude, but stable." he muttered. "At least I’m no longer a parasite."

Then, without ceremony, he disappeared into the forest, feasting on lesser hollows to replenish his strength. When he returned, spiritual particles still clinging to his mouth, he glanced at Roka.

"Let’s move. I need a better environnt for my next phase."

Though he had a body now, Szayelaporro still relied on her—for stability, for Negación. His soul was incomplete. He couldn’t stray far.

As they moved, Szayelaporro reflected aloud, "It seems the others in Las Noches never noticed how I bound you. Their arrogance blinds them."

His eyes glead. "Next ti, I won’t be the one falling."

anwhile, within Las Noches—

Ulquiorra stood in the monitoring chamber, eyes fixed on the screen before him. A pulse of Roka’s reiatsu had been captured, along with a second signature.

"...Szayelaporro?"

He narrowed his gaze. "That’s not possible. He was terminated."

"So beings..." Mazuru said behind him, appearing silently, "Refuse to die conventionally."

The data stream pulsed again. But then, sothing else registered.

A Garganta was opening at the outer edges of Hueco Mundo. Mazuru’s gaze turned sharp.

"More uninvited guests."

...

On the surface, a jagged black cavity tore open.

From it stepped three figures—Kyouraku Shunsui, Ashido, and... Zaraki Kenpachi.

The Soul Society had returned to Hueco Mundo.

No longer as invaders with an army—but as elite hunters with purpose.

Their last expedition had ended in failure and blood. But they had returned nonetheless—scarred, cautious, and determined.

And this ti, they weren’t here for war.

They were here for answers.

*****

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