The clearing in the forest was silent. Even the birds had scattered at the sudden appearance of several people. Mottled sunlight streamed through gaps in the leaves, illuminating the drifting dust. The wind continued to blow softly. It gently stirred Aizen's brown hair. Through the lenses of his black-framed glasses, his gaze passed through Masaki Seinosuke's figure and scrutinized He-El, whom he could not sense. He-El was the most unusual person he had encountered in the Soul Society. Not unusually strong. But unusually weak.