Kira leaned against the jagged bark of the withered tree, her gaze sweeping across the bleak, vast desert of Hueco Mundo. The air was still, the white sand beneath her feet as lifeless as the endless black sky above. It had been two long years since she had entered this desolate realm, her once small and fragile army of two mid-sized hollows had grown considerably. Turtlemourne and Lorisveil, her original subordinates, had devoured so many lesser hollows that they had evolved into towering Gillians. But the power of her zanpakutō Hōtei no Kōi (法創の狂意 Law Creation's Insanity), Shinrai (信頼—Trust), had revealed an unexpected effect—one that allowed her to exert control over her evolving followers in a way that no one, least of all Kira herself, could have predicted.

Gillians were typically mindless beasts, formed from the chaotic fusion of dozens, sometimes hundreds, of hollows in a brutal feeding frenzy. The resulting creature was a mindless colossus with no single dominant personality to speak of, an empty shell driven only by a hunger to consume more. However, Kira's Shinrai worked differently. When Turtlemourne and Lorisveil began their evolution into Gillians, her control over them spread like a virus allowing her to temporarily control the multitude of lesser minds that made up their new forms. With great effort, she was able to push them into dominance, ensuring that they, rather than some other faceless Hollow, would become the primary personality within their newly formed Gillian bodies.

The result was remarkable. Turtlemourne and Lorisveil were no ordinary Gillians—they were unique, retaining their personalities and intelligence, and soon after, they evolved further, becoming Adjuchas-class Menos. The transformation, however, had not come without a price. Controlling so many hollows at once—especially during such a delicate phase of evolution—had nearly drained Kira of her reiryoku. She had spent months recovering from the strain, her body weakened and her power temporarily diminished.

But the results were undeniable. Over time, she had expanded her control, carefully selecting and nurturing additional hollows. Now, her army consisted of five Adjuchas-class Menos and three Gillians, each one controlled and loyal to her. Controlling such powerful beings, however, came at a cost. Even now, Kira could feel the strain on her soul, the weight of their collective wills rebelling against hers, testing her limits. She needed to grow stronger if she ever hoped to control something as powerful as a Vasto Lorde.

Kira closed her eyes, letting her mind drift for a moment. She could sense her followers scattered throughout the desert, their reiatsu faint but constant, a web of power that connected her to each of them. The sensation gave her a small measure of comfort, a reminder of how far she had come. But that comfort was short-lived. A sharp spike in reiatsu suddenly pierced the air, disrupting the stillness.

Her eyes snapped open, her senses sharpening as she focused on the new presence. It was strong—too strong. This was not one of her subordinates, nor was it some mindless Gillian wandering the sands. No, this reiatsu was different, refined, and dangerously close to the power of a captain-level soul reaper. Kira pushed herself off the tree, her body tense, as she scanned the horizon for the source of the disturbance.

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Moments later, the Adjuchas appeared.

It descended from the sky like a bird of prey, its massive wings beating against the air with a force that stirred the sand beneath it. Kira watched as it landed before her, its talons sinking into the ground with a sharp, metallic scrape. The creature’s form was striking: a white eagle’s head atop a body covered in brilliant red feathers. Six sets of wings stretched from its back, and its piercing yellow eyes glowed with an unsettling intelligence.

Kira did not move. She knew better than to show weakness in the face of such a powerful foe. She could sense its reiatsu clearly now—this was no ordinary Adjuchas. It was powerful, dangerously so, and carried with it a presence that made her skin crawl. But what unnerved her most was the faint, oppressive pressure that clung to its reiatsu like a shadow. She had felt that same presence before, in whispered stories told by the hollows she had conquered. The presence of a king. Baraggan Louisenbairn.

The Adjuchas regarded her for a moment before speaking, its voice low and commanding. "Greetings, little lost soul reaper. My name is Abirama Redder, and I serve under the command of my lord, Baraggan Louisenbairn."

Kira’s eyes narrowed, but she remained silent, waiting for the creature to continue.

"My lord has taken notice of you," Abirama said, his tone calm but laced with an unmistakable edge. "You have grown quite bold in Hueco Mundo, gathering Hollows under your control, building an army. It is... admirable, in its own way. But it is also foolish."

Kira clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to retort. She knew better than to challenge a servant of Baraggan directly, especially one this powerful. Still, she would not be cowed so easily.

"What does your lord want?" she asked, her voice steady despite the tension in her body.

Abirama's eyes gleamed as he stepped closer, his talons digging deeper into the sand. "My lord is merciful. He has offered you a choice: serve him, or die."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, cold and final. Kira’s perception slowed and the gears inside her head began to spin rapidly. She had heard tales of Baraggan Louisenbairn—the self-proclaimed God-King of Hueco Mundo, ruler of all hollows. His reign was one of fear and domination, and those who opposed him rarely lived to tell the tale. But to serve him? To bend the knee to anyone and live and die by their words. The thought churned in her stomach.

She glanced at her sword, Hōtei no Kōi. Law Creation. It was ironic, really—here she was, faced with the laws put forward by another individual. Could she subject herself to standing underneath Baraggan? She could almost laugh her power allowed her to manipulate and bend the world as she saw fit but here was someone attempting to do the same to her.

Kira met Abirama’s gaze, her grip tightening on her sword. "Serve or die," she repeated, her voice low. "I suppose those are my only options, then?"

Abirama tilted his head, his beak clicking softly. "You are perceptive. My lord does not tolerate insolence. If you refuse his offer, you will be crushed beneath his heel, along with your pitiful army."

Kira’s heart and her expression remained calm eerily so. She had faced death before, but this felt different. The stakes were higher, the consequences more severe. But there was something else—a fire burning in her chest, a stubborn refusal to submit. She had come too far to bow now, especially to a mere hollow. She was born to stand above others and so she would. Even if the next words out of her mouth lead to her death she would never regret it for she was a Queen.

Slowly, she raised her sword, pointing it at Abirama. "Tell your lord," she said, her voice steady and defiant, "that I don’t serve anyone."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, Abirama’s beak parted in a slow, menacing smile.

"So be it," he said.

The battle was about to begin.