Hasumi Ren turned around and saw Aizen Sosuke walking toward him, carrying two packages of food.
As the support team, the Fifth Division was naturally responsible for logistical chores like this.
"We've been traveling all day. Eat something."
He handed the food to Ren.
Ren took it and thanked him.
Aizen sat down beside him, his gaze fixed on the gradually darkening sky in the distance.
"We will reach our destination tomorrow. The environment there is even harsher than here. There is no telling what we might face, so you need to be prepared."
Ren nodded.
"Lieutenant Aizen, did none of the patrol squad sent to investigate earlier return?"
"None of them."
Aizen shook his head.
"According to their last transmission, they did indeed find traces of Menos. However, the exact class and number of Hollows remain unknown."
He paused, a hint of solemnity creeping into his tone.
Ren listened quietly before suddenly asking a question.
"What class of Hollow do you think it is, Lieutenant Aizen?"
Aizen fell silent for a moment.
"To wipe out an entire patrol squad without a single survivor, it must be at least a Gillian."
Aizen looked at Ren.
"Or, perhaps, something even higher than a Gillian."
An Adjuchas.
Neither of them said the word out loud, but they both understood.
"But there is no need to worry too much."
Aizen's tone returned to its usual gentleness.
"With Captain Kiganjo here, even if it truly is an Adjuchas, there is nothing to fear."
Ren nodded, offering no reply.
In the distance, bursts of raucous noise drifted over from the Eleventh Division's camp.
Some were laughing and chatting loudly, others were arguing over whose blade was faster, and a few were jeering, demanding someone put on a performance.
Kiganjo Kenpachi's voice was the loudest of all, drowning out the rest of the commotion.
The crowd sang, danced, and gorged themselves. Kiganjo even brought out alcohol, dragging the men closest to him into a heavy drinking session.
It seemed they hadn't taken this mission seriously at all.
"Captain, we are still on a mission and have to travel tomorrow. Drinking today might not be the most prudent idea..."
An Eleventh Division squad member accepted a passed bottle of alcohol with a troubled expression, attempting to persuade him otherwise.
"Hah... What did you say?"
Kiganjo glared at the squad member who had spoken up, his face instantly darkening.
He then reached out and tossed another bottle of alcohol at the man, his tone turning grim.
"Drink it all. If you don't, I'll cut you down."
"The Fourth Division is right here anyway. They can patch you up."
The squad member scrambled to catch the bottle, his face instantly twisting into a miserable grimace.
"..."
He glanced up at Kiganjo and the hostile-looking seated officers surrounding him.
The spiritual pressure radiating from them was already making it difficult for him to stand steady.
He knew that with Kiganjo's temper, the Captain would genuinely order these men to strike him down.
Trembling, he chugged both bottles of alcohol. Amidst their wild, unrestrained laughter, he retreated to the side, keeping his head down and not daring to utter another word.
Watching the Eleventh Division's display, Aizen let out a soft sigh, a flash of concern crossing his eyes.
"The Captain of the Eleventh Division is a brute, just as expected. Captain Hirako has always taken issue with his conduct, and today I finally see why."
"Ren, stay vigilant tonight. The Eleventh Division doesn't seem very reliable."
Observing Aizen's expression, Ren gave a slight nod.
The noise in the camp gradually died down. Many of the Eleventh Division members had drunk too much and were sprawled haphazardly across the ground.
Ren withdrew his gaze and looked at Aizen beside him.
Under the moonlight, Aizen's profile was sharply defined, bearing an almost imperceptible trace of worry.
Anyone who saw him would think he was a dutiful and responsible lieutenant.
But who could possibly know what kind of schemes were currently hidden beneath that gentle facade?
"Lieutenant Aizen."
Ren suddenly spoke up.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think anything unusual will happen tonight?"
Aizen was silent for a moment.
"It is hard to say."
He said softly.
"After all, we are very close to the location of the incident. I only hope we can make it through tonight peacefully..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but his meaning was already clear.
Ren nodded and asked no more.
The two of them sat there in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
The night deepened, black as ink, completely swallowing the wasteland of this Rukongai district.
The campfires had burned out, leaving only a few wisps of pale smoke curling up into the night breeze.
Ren sat cross-legged in front of his tent, wide awake.
It wasn't because he wasn't tired.
It was because he didn't dare to sleep.
He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Ever since night fell, that faint, lingering sensation had haunted his mind.
Now, in the dead of night, that feeling only grew clearer, like a fine needle gently pricking the edges of his perception.
He looked up into the distant darkness.
He couldn't see anything.
There was only the whimpering sound of the night wind blowing across the wasteland, and the occasional cry of an unknown beast from far beyond the district's borders.
"Ren, you haven't rested yet?"
Aizen's voice came from behind him—very soft, yet perfectly clear.
Ren turned around to find Aizen standing behind him, holding a small waterskin. He hadn't even noticed when the man approached.
Under the moonlight, Aizen's face remained gentle, but his eyes were far more profound than they had been during the day.
"The Fifth Division is handling the night watch. You can rest easy."
Aizen walked up to Ren and handed him the waterskin.
"What's wrong? Can't sleep?"
Ren took the waterskin and thanked him.
"Aren't you awake as well, Lieutenant Aizen?"
Aizen chuckled softly and sat down beside him, gazing into the distant darkness.
"I often handle paperwork late into the night. I am already used to it."
Ren didn't say anything. He merely held the waterskin, making no move to drink from it.
"Aren't you going to try it? I brewed it myself."
Aizen pointed at the waterskin.
"I added some refreshing medicinal herbs. Drinking a little when you're tired will help relieve fatigue."
"Thank you for your concern, Lieutenant Aizen, but I'm not thirsty right now."
Aizen nodded, uncorked the waterskin at his own waist, and took a shallow sip.
The two of them sat quietly, looking out at the night scenery and chatting casually.
Time ticked by, minute by minute.
After an unknown amount of time, Aizen suddenly stood up, his expression turning serious.
"Something is wrong."
His voice was hushed as his gaze swept toward the horizon.
Ren stood up as well, his hand already resting on his Zanpakuto.
The next moment, a ferocious roar tore through the night sky.
The sound echoed from all directions—shrill, ear-piercing, and dripping with intense brutality.
Immediately after, countless dark silhouettes burst from the shadows, lunging straight for the camp.
"Enemy attack!"
The Fifth Division members on night watch shouted sharply, instantly jolting the entire camp awake.
The Eleventh Division members were startled awake by the noise, groggily opening their eyes.
It wasn't until they felt the Hollows' spiritual pressure bearing down on them that they snapped to full awareness, frantically grabbing the Zanpakuto beside them.
Kiganjo's reaction was even more pathetic. He only slowly regained consciousness after several seated officers shook him violently.
Only when he realized Hollows were attacking did his eyes snap wide open as he staggered to his feet.
Slurring his words, he then bellowed at the Eleventh Division members to get up and face the enemy.
The battle erupted in an instant.
The flash of blades intertwined with the roars of Hollows, and the collision of spiritual pressures kicked up violent shockwaves.
Though the Eleventh Division members were crude, they were undeniably fierce in combat, charging fearlessly into the incoming swarm of Hollows.
Unfortunately, they were in terrible condition. In the very first clash, many squad members who hadn't managed to gather their bearings were severely wounded.
Aizen and Ren stood by in strict formation, ready for battle, because the attackers were not just ordinary Hollows.
Up in the sky, several massive figures were slowly tearing open Gargantas, attempting to descend.
The intensity of their spiritual pressure clearly belonged to Gillian-class Menos Grandes.