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ā ā Off barren walls footsteps echo, reverberating down the long, empty corridor. Las Noches, his palace, was relatively the same as it was the day he abandoned it. The scars of battles fought still remained, preserved by the stagnant, never changing air of Hueco Mundo. ā
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ā ā Rim of alabaster porcelain finds awaiting maw. An acute angle tipped by wrist sends fresh, hot liquid awash across eager taste buds. The bitter, rich flavor spread along tongues surface, rousing a content hum from Aizen. Tea, his favorite indulgence, brought peace and warmth to his cold soul.
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Aside from those scars, it was as pristine and sterile as he left it. And now, he was back, the empty, waiting palace vacant no longer. It's rightful ruler was home again at last.
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ššššššš ššššššš šššššš šš š ššššš
ššššššš ššššš ššššš šš ššššššš
rising's the easy part
one must šššš first
