The stale air of Baraggan's castle hung heavy, as always. The walls were cracked, the bone pillars leaning in strange ways, and there was still no ceiling — just the endless, grey sky above Hueco Mundo. I sat in one corner of the hall, scratching absentmindedly at a patch of stone, grumbling to myself in low, guttural roars.
Baraggan sat on his throne nearby, arms crossed, his cold gaze occasionally drifting in my direction like a vulture eyeing something already dead. Around the hall, the other Bone Circle members lounged about in various states of boredom. Yammy snored against a broken pillar, Kukkapūro gnawed on a bone twice his size, and Shawlong was polishing his finger bone while the rest of his little clique bickered over who could kill the most Gillians in a day.
Grimmjow had finally returned from his long hunt not long ago, his white panther form sleek and his mood foul as usual. He prowled near the entrance, tail flicking with irritation. No one dared to say a word about… that thing from last month. The puppet incident was dead and buried. Or at least, stuffed in a pile of trash where it belonged.
I let out a loud, meaningless roar to break the silence.
Baraggan didn't even flinch.
"Graaah," I growled again.
Without even looking up, Baraggan translated flatly,
"He says he's bored."
Yammy grunted awake.
"So what? We all are."
Kukkapūro let out a whine and curled back up. Grimmjow growled low in his throat but didn't speak. The silence stretched again, heavy and uncomfortable.
I paced around the hall, looking at random objects and poking at things I shouldn't. A cracked statue. A bone chandelier hanging by a single, fraying rope. I gave it a tug. It creaked ominously. Baraggan's glare made my claws freeze mid-motion.
I backed off with an awkward cough-roar.
Di Roy muttered something under his breath, and Yylfordt snorted. Nakeem kept tossing pebbles at Edrad's head. Edrad ignored him, his arms crossed, eyes shut as though meditating, though everyone knew he wasn't.
The air in the castle was tense. No one wanted to admit it out loud, but it always got like this after Aizen's… seasonal episode. Things went quiet, nerves frayed, and everyone waited for the next idiot — usually me — to stir up more trouble.
I considered doing something stupid again but decided against it when Baraggan's cold gaze locked onto me once more, daring me.
I let out a sigh-like rumble and flopped down against a wall, glaring at nothing.
"Grah," I grunted.
Baraggan translated in his usual deadpan,
"He says this place needs better entertainment."
Nobody replied.
Yammy's snoring resumed, Grimmjow's tail twitched, and the castle fell back into its restless silence.