It did not rain in Hueco Mundo itself, but Aizen-sama sometimes took it upon himself to present his Arrancar in Las Noches with a sudden and forceful deluge. The silvery light of the moon faded to a frigid grey throughout the palace corridors, everywhere except the semi-subterranean lair of Szayel Aporro. There, in the gleaming blue-green of test tubes, Ilforte watched with a mixture of disgust and mild interest as his younger brother gleefully dissected an unfortunate Shinigami. She had been screaming and thrashing throughout the entire operation, and the sudden silence gave the blond Arrancar a start. Szayel turned around with a dainty grimace gracing his narrow face.
"She was far too noisy." He proclaimed by way of explanation, one hand making a sweeping gesture to indicate his now bloodstained robes. "I cut her larynx." Szayel continued, as if it was as commonplace as turning on a light switch. Ilforte held his tongue; Szayel Aporro frowned. Gliding over to his brother like a bloody angel, he pressed their bodies together and wrapped his arms around Ilforte's neck, forcing him to take on all his weight. Not that it was much; the Octava was so ridiculously thin, he could have had the hollow bones of a bird. Ilforte's nose crinkled in distaste, for his brother had now gotten blood all over him as well. Noting the blond's disgust with his usual golden-eyed perception, he placed a seemingly chaste kiss on Ilforte's lips. "Come now, big brother. Don't be so petulant. You just know I love to share my sins with you."
The sound of falling rain mixed in with Szayel's breathing and the now dying Shinigami's gurgling until Ilforte could not tell them apart.
