Chapter 29: Interlude
In the dreadful silence of a sparsely decorated wooden room, a cane thumped against the floorboards and created an audible bang that gathered everyone's attention.
The room itself was noticeably damaged, splintered wood and cracked walls letting in small rays of sunlight that shone over a somber mood.
"If everything is in order, then let this meeting commence."
Yamamoto stared with his eyes towards the two rows of Captains that stood before him, his expression hard to read.
The Seireitei had had a major upheaval, and the effects of it was something that Yamamoto predicted would last for several generations. More so when he considered the number of Shinigami that were either injured, killed, or lost their moral. It was like a decisive blow that aimed at the gut. Not enough to kill, but more than enough to hamper.
The old days were gone, it was now a time of change.
Yamamoto closed his eyes, and when he opened them once more, a furry like none before seemed to settle upon him.
Every Captain before him visibly flinched, Shunsui tipping his straw hat further over his face while none of the other Captains dared meet Yamamoto's gaze.
Of the Captains present, four were missing. Aizen Sousuke, Gin Ichimaru, Kaname Tousen, and Mayuri Kurotsuchi. In the case of Mayuri Kurotsuchi, Yamamoto had already received a report that explicitly explained that the man was in the process of recovering from a life-saving liquifying drug. Therefore, Mayuri had a reason for his absence, but the others were what truly angered him.
They had betrayed the Soul Society.
The grip Yamamoto had on his cane tightened until the knuckles of his hands grew white.
"Shameful!"
A strong shout, one able to vibrate within one's chest.
It was both admonishment and disappointment towards both the Captains in front of him and the Captains absent.
"Those three traitors aside, were the lot of you so weak that you could not even hamper the enemy's movements? Where has all your training gone?" Yamamoto criticized.
No Captain answered in rebuke.
The times had been peaceful and the majority of the hollows that invaded the Soul Society were near zero. Never before had an invasion by hollows ever occurred since the founding of the Seireitei. As such, the blades of the Shinigami had grown brittle and dull in Yamamoto's eyes. For his was a time where there was no such safety as the Seireitei. Instead, it was a time rife with violence and blood.
Yhwach, monarch of the Wandenreich, Father of the Quincy.
And the Vasto Lordes of Hueco Mundo.
The enemies that threatened to annihilate the Seireitei's very existence,
All now lacking in the current era of peace that Yamamoto and those with him had ushered in.
"War, many of you have yet to experience it," Yamamoto began quietly, his head angling up. "The battles of myself and the Seireitei's forefathers that established the Seireitei for what it is today, a realm of tranquility, peace, and order. Admittedly though, mistakes were made."
The silence that stretched across the room was only echoed by the blank expressions on the other Captains faces. They knew that as Captains, they had failed to live up to their duties in the face of an enemy attack, and this was evident by the staggering number of injured or dead. None dared speak.
The silence that followed was stifling.
"While we bided our time taking pride in our victory in the war, it has become evidently clear that the Vasto Lordes of Hueco Mundo have far surpassed us in their tenacity to grow stronger." Yamamoto's expression became further inscrutable as he then turned his attention towards Unohana who sighed.
"Head-Captain," Unohana bowed her head.
Yamamoto nodded before once more opening his mouth to speak.
"You were still young then Unohana, but do you recall the number of Vasto Lordes present in the past era?" Yamamoto spoke loud enough for all Captains to hear his voice.
Subsequently, all gazes shifted towards Unohana who didn't seem to show a reaction other than a dourness in her presence.
Her mouth opened, a tiny whisper exiting past her lips, and the nearest Captains sucked in a breath of cold air.
"Four," Unohana whispered again, this time loud enough for her voice to carry across the room, causing all Captain to visibly tense.
"Indeed," Yamamoto acknowledged. "Four Great Vasto Lordes that ruled the hollows beneath them like sovereigns. It was from them alone that the Seireitei was able to document and ascertain that the combat capabilities of a Vasto Lorde are greater than those of the captains of the Court-Guard Squads."
Yamamoto once again fell silent before his gaze lowered to the floor.
"And now, one Vasto Lorde alone had a power that equaled or surpassed all four of those Great Vasto Lordes combined."
Yamamoto's admission was spoken after careful deliberation on the matter. Each of those past four Great Vasto Lordes held a power similar to a fourth of his own at his peak. After having faced the Vasto of White, Yamamoto was already certain of the danger that that hollow represented. For that hollow's power was near Yamamoto's own not solely because of spiritual energy, but because of capability.
The swords that appeared in the sky on that day would never be forgotten by any Shinigami who had seen it. Nor would they forget the hollow who stood at the front of a charge to pierce a line directly through the Seireitei.
"The Vasto of White," Byakuya said in disbelief. "Is he really that strong?"
Unlike most of the Captains present, Byakuya hadn't fought in the battle with the hollows and had instead confronted Aizen with nothing to show for it other than more injuries. Even now, beneath his Haori were several bands of wrapped bandages and a splint to help mend broken bones.
Yamamoto lifted his head and stared at Byakuya, causing the man to reign in his momentary outburst.
Incidentally, Yamamoto wasn't the one to answer Byakuya's question, but Toshiro Hitsugaya instead.
"More than you'd know," Toshiro answered, the action aggravating his injuries and causing him to flinch.
Rangiku who was supporting Toshiro immediately frowned as the hand she had around Toshiro grew damp, the white cotton wrapping his chest steadily shifting red.
"It's alright Rangiku," Toshiro said through gritted teeth after noticing Rangiku's expression. "I can stand on my own."
As Rangiku was about to protest, she stopped after seeing the stubbornness in her Captains actions. Any protest may lead to an outburst that may harm him further. Therefore, she closed her mouth and slowly made her way to stand with the other Lieutenants of the Court-Guard Squads.
Taking a moment to glance at Yamamoto to see if he could speak, Toshiro received a small nod for his efforts, allowing him to speak his mind.
"I fought him," Toshiro said while grimacing from the pain racking through his body. "It's not only his spiritual energy, but the abilities he has at his disposal. Even now I'm being affected by it. This wound that won't heal."
Unohana had informed Toshiro that no matter what she did, the wound itself wouldn't close regardless of the type of healing Kido used. It was something she described as a curse, some foul energy clinging to the wound that forced away any type of healing energy. Unohana had become somewhat distressed as a result but was still able to staunch the bleeding in time to save Toshiro's life. If the wound itself would heal properly, only time would tell. For other than healing naturally, Unohana was out of options.
"The weapons he used," Toshiro said slowly to Byakuya. "They were Zanpakuto, some even our own."
Byakuya's neutral expression faltered, his lips thinning as his eyes widened.
Impossible,
Was the first word that came to mind, but looking at everyone's somber attitudes, that conclusion was unlikely. Thus, there was only one question to ask.
"How?"
Zanapkuto were extensions of Shinigami's soul. For a hollow to possess one, it was simply too hard to believe.
Toshiro's mouth opened and closed, he himself being unsure with how to answer like many of the others in the room. Instead, every captain subconsciously shifted their attention towards the one deemed the most knowledgeable.
Yamamoto Genryusai.
"His eyes," were the first words Yamamoto spoke while placing both hands over his cane. "Before those weapons and our very own Zanpakuto appeared, the pupils of his eyes would immediately dilate and contract upon sighting our swords."
This was an observation only Yamamoto had been able to make due to his prows and experience as the Head-Captain able to catch the smallest of details.
"Thereafter, our Zanpakuto were created from out of thin air," Yamamoto said seriously.
"Then they must have been fakes?" Byakuya reasoned.
Yamamoto and those present at that scene at the time shook their heads despondently, Soifon grimacing.
"Fakes they may be, Captain Kuchiki, but the connections we felt from them couldn't be faked. At that time, those truly were our Zanpakuto," Toshiro said, face paling from the effort of both forcing himself to stand on ceremony and speaking fluently. "I fear that so long as we use our Zanpakuto against the Vasto of White, he has the ability to undoubtedly copy them. Captain Zaraki should be the best example of this."
Singled out by Toshiro, Zaraki Kenpachi didn't even seem to react as the man himself was lost in contemplation. The shock of seeing the power of his own Zanpakuto astounded him, but at the same time it made him realize that for once, it may not be so bad to learn its name.
Seeing that Zaraki wasn't going to help in his explanation, Toshiro could only frown and do nothing else.
Still, Byakuya understood Toshiro's point and wordlessly acknowledged Toshiro's words with a nod. However, none of the two could understand the implications of Toshiro's words better than Yamamoto.
"Those remaining Captain who have not yet faced the Vasto of White, by my orders, do not reveal your Zanpakuto in his presence lightly," Yamamoto said. "We do not know the extent of this copying ability of his, but it's for certain that giving him more power to use is out of the question. A hollow like the Vasto of White who is not only strong, but versatile will be the greatest enemy the Soul Society will ever face. And don't forget, the Vasto of White isn't the only Vasto Lorde we have to deal with. Seven others have already been confirmed, which is three more than the previous four Vasto Lordes of the past era."
Saying that, a weariness seemed to exude from Yamamoto that shouldn't have had appeared on an old man of his age.
This was a problem for the newest generation of Shinigami, but the old just couldn't stand idle either.
"We do not know what the hollows will do now, but I hope you take this previous battle as a lesson and increase the intensity of your training. Our enemies will only grow stronger, and to remain as you are now, is to stagnate."
Yamamoto thumped his cane against the ground, creating a dull noise that caused Jushiro Ukitake out of his daze from brooding.
"This matter aside, there is another matter of concern. Aizen Sousuke, Gin Ichimaru, and Kaname Tousen."
Rangiku's body shuddered for a moment when Yamamoto spoke of Gin's name, but she hid it well from those around her.
Byakuya on the other hand tensed as a murderous intent flickered through his eyes.
"They are traitors without a doubt," Byakuya said coldly.
Yamamoto inwardly agreed with Byakuya's statement but didn't bother showing any outward response. It was more imperative for him to find out what those three's motives were.
And at that time, the doors to the Captain's meeting room creaked open, a purple-haired woman in an orange over shirt with two white straps entering the room. Around her waist was a large beige sash that was tied neatly around her. She sauntered in without a care for the hard gaze Yamamoto was glaring at her with, and leaned her back against a wall, her arms crossing beneath her chest.
"Yo, Head-Captain," she greeted, a smirk rising over her face.
"Yoruichi Shihoin," Yamamoto said irritably. "We are in a state of urgency, and if not for this, you wouldn't be able to do as you please after unceremoniously leaving your post as a Captain."
Yoruichi shrugged.
"Then by all means, go ahead and continue," she said, gesturing with a hand. "But please Head-Captain, I know you understand me well enough to know that I wouldn't risk coming into your presence for no reason at all?"
Yamamoto deliberated for a moment before ultimately coming to a decision.
"Speak," he said.
Yoruichi nodded, and at the next moment, any airs of nonchalance she once had disappeared to be replaced by a growing solemnity.
"Well then Head-Captain, how much do you know of Aizen Sousuke?" She asked.
Chapter 31
Fingers rapped against a smooth surface, an inscrutable expression flickering over Aizen's face as he sat alone in a cave dwelling within Hueco Mundo. His back was straight, and his gaze contained a contemplative gleam while regarding the Hogyoku in front of him.
This was the work of a fellow researcher, and was fully deserving of Aizen's admiration, but it wasn't the main point of the matter.
Leisurely, Aizen turned his attention away from the Hogyoku which had the ability to dissolve the boundaries between Shinigami and Hollow, and instead absently turned his attention towards the pest that had entered his dwelling.
The sand in the corner of the room began to stir, creating a depression that a small masked head poked its way out of. It was a lizard-like hollow, unaware of the danger that had now befallen it due to its carelessness. Without regard for anything, it fully emerged into the room, sleek body lined with scales creating an unpleasant rustle to the ears as its head surveyed the area around it.
In a way, its ignorance caused Aizen to feel no small amount of amusement. After all, it lived in a world where it didn't appear to know of those that lorded over it; too insignificant to understand the concept of what it meant to be truly free from oppression and control.
His eyes narrowed, his spiritual pressure locking on to the lizard-like hollow and freezing it in place.
An intervention by a higher power, and the feeble hollow didn't even seem to understand its position as it uselessly struggled. A single thought, and his spiritual pressure would wipe out the hollow's very existence. Yet he didn't do so, but rather watched for a moment longer before losing interest and letting the thing scamper away, burrowing back into the sand.
Unlike that hollow, Aizen was completely aware of his own strength and existence. He didn't live in a reality where he was truly free from the limitations that bound him. As such, he refused to accept it.
His eyes narrowed as he refocused his attention on the Hogyoku.
With just his power alone, he was confident that none would be his match, and yet despite everything, there was an existence that still stood above him. Of course, he wasn't so feeble minded enough to be unable to accept such a thing, but what he couldn't accept was that the existence able to oppress him was no more than a lynchpin holding the world together.
Thus, an ambition had taken root within him in the pursuit of being truly free from limitation.
A long road.
One full of betrayals and deceptions, yet it was his to take.
His mouth twitched in amusement when he considered the irony. He with a power to control others with an aspiration to rid himself of those who would rule over him. How laughable.
He grasped the Hogyoku in hand and watched as the power within it seemed to respond to his intent, vapours of spiritual energy spiralling around his palm like a thin mist. It was no more than a tool for him to use at his disposal, but with it, it opened up his possibilities. To break the boundary between Shinigami and Hollows to aspire for a greater power. Still,
Is that truly the reason?
His lips thinned as he frowned to himself. There was a deeper meaning to the thought that just surfaced in his mind, and it wasn't one he was willing to admit. After all, with his strength, why was he gathering allies? Why was intending to use the Hogyoku's ability to heighten the capabilities of others rather than himself?
He was certain of it. There wasn't truly a need to undergo his plans to create Arrancar if he just utilized his own competence to create an Oken, the key to the Royal House. He wouldn't even have to wait and allow Kisuke and the Soul Society to react if he could simply overwhelm them with his power and the Hogyoku's combined. And yet he chose not to do so.
Instead choosing to foster the strength of those around him. It was the same for the hollows, and the same for Ichigo Kurosaki's unique existence.
As such, the only question was why was he going through all the trouble?
What exactly was he hoping for?
His face gradually became inscrutable. Perhaps inside of himself, he already knew the answer, but it didn't mean that he would ever admit to it. Nonetheless, the main matter at hand did not lie with the Hogyoku, but with the cooperation of the hollows around him.
Reaching out his arm, he placed the Hogyoku back into its crystal container and stared out into the opening of his current dwelling, towards the white sands that encompassed Hueco Mundo and the hollows that lived upon it.
The Vasto of White and the Hollows who follow him.
This hollow was far more difficult to deal with than the self-proclaimed God-King Aizen had already done his observations on.
Charisma.
Strength.
Versatility.
And above all, the loyalty the Vasto of White instilled in its subjects was an obstacle hard to overcome. To begin with, none of the hollows he had spoken to out of those in the Vasto of White's lands adamantly desired more power. After all, they would eventually become Vasto Lordes in their own rights after enough consumption of spiritual energy from the swords lodged in the sands. Therefore, why would those hollows be enthusiastic about the notion of tearing off their masks and sealing their future prospects in evolution? It wasn't a choice many were willing to make in the face of a means of an already simplified evolution to a higher power. As such, the Adjuchas and lower leveled hollows in the Vasto of White's lands out-right refused his described process of becoming an Arrancar and gaining more power.
To make matters worse, none of the current Vasto Lordes were willing to take the procedure either without confiding in their Lord of Hollows, the Vasto of White.
A light gleamed over the spectacles Aizen was wearing over his face as he decided that it was time to have a talk with that particular hollow.
For the Vasto of White was the key.
And perhaps, just maybe,
A friend.
The further she walked, the more pronounced her agitation became. Her upper lip began to twitch, and her hands were steadily balling into fists.
"He's not here either," Lilynette seethed in frustration.
Starrk had told her that Shirou would be in the cavern near where the Shinigami were staying, and yet she didn't find him there on arrival. Instead, all that greeted her, Ichigo, and Silent was an empty room.
Silent patted Lilynette's head in an attempt to console her, but only ended up making her sulky, her lips pursing together as she clicked her tongue.
"Isn't it time to stop by now?" Ichigo asked sighing. "You've been leading us nowhere for the past few hours."
After not finding Shirou in the cavern, Lilynette had not given up and decided to scour the area. However, the Vasto of White's lands were large and Lilynette didn't possess a means to lower the search radius. Instead, she just dragged Ichigo and Silent along to help search.
Over the course of the journey, Ichigo had endured not just a single glance from other hollows, but multiple. He was simply too unique if any word could describe him. He felt like a hollow to other hollows, but his appearance was rather contrary with just a mask over his face and Shinigami Shihakusho on his body.
If it wasn't for Lilynette pulling on his sleeve as they travelled, Ichigo was certain that he would have had been approached by other curious hollows.
His shoulders drooped. On top of the worry he felt for the conditions of his friends when he'd last seen them, he wanted to get his mother out of Hueco Mundo as soon as possible. However, his goals were just too unlikely at the moment. He was too weak, and he could feel that the majority of the hollows living in the area could crush him with just their spiritual pressure alone. They were nothing like the average hollows he had encountered and opposed in Karakura Town.
What the hell was this place?
The thought struck his mind. The hollows nearby were just too powerful.
"I suppose you're right, Ichigo," Lilynette had a wronged expression on her face.
All that she had wanted to do was enjoy herself. The past few years, were the best years of her life. Even if Starrk wouldn't admit it, she knew how he already felt. They weren't alone anymore. Every passing day, even if nothing exciting occurred, it was fine.
Lilynette glanced up at Silent, Ichigo, and then to the hollows in the distance before her mood gradually grew better.
"So, you're the hollow releasing that foul spiritual aura," a voice spoke from not too far away.
Ichigo's gaze shifted towards a hollow with the lower body of a horse and the upper body of a woman.
It was Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, a Vasto Lorde.
Over the course of Lilynette dragging Ichigo and Silent around, they had ended up in a part of the Vasto of White's lands where Nelliel and the Adjuchas under her were living.
"Foul spiritual aura?" Ichigo echoed, unsure of what to make of Nel's words. He had assumed that his aura was just as chaotic as a regular hollow at the moment.
"Indeed," Nel nodded. "Your aura is like an open river, overflowing from out of you incessantly and filled with more chaos than an average hollow. In fact, just from the quality and power of it, it's as if a new Vasto Lorde had appeared. You should understand my prompt arrival as a result. However,"
Nel's eyes narrowed.
"It comes off as a bit of surprise when I stare at you now. All that strength and you're simply letting it go to waste; the amount available to you miniscule compared to the amount you're letting off to dissipate into the air."
Finished speaking her piece, Nel gave a pleasant nod to Lilynette and Silent before shifting her gaze back on Ichigo who appeared perturbed.
"T-Then how do I use it?" Ichigo asked. Power was the one thing he needed right now. To grow stronger.
Nel rose a brow but smiled after considering that Ichigo wasn't one of those mindless hollows bent on exerting their supremacy. Instead, it appeared as if he had a reason to fight. A reason to attain power.
"Instinct," was what Nel said at the next moment. "As hollows, from the very beginning, all that we had left was the instinct to survive and evolve. You should be able to feel your own power, it comes to you naturally."
Nel extended out her palm and a pink cero began to form. "Our energy is like an extension of our selves much like how Shinigami rely on their swords to aid in the direction of the flow of their spiritual energy. The energy of us hollows generally doesn't have a conduit as convenient as a Shinigami's sword. Instead, our powers are unbridled. Something harnessed with our willpower and fortitude."
Nel's eyes narrowed as she stared at Zangetsu strapped to Ichigo's back. "No short cuts by taking the blade of a defeated Shinigami will help," she said disapprovingly. "You must use your power as your own."
"No this is," Ichigo trailed off as he considered not correcting Nel's assumption. It was for the best that he not explained that Zangetsu was his. "Yeah, fine, you're right," he eventually said.
Nel's impassive expression from the beginning softened after Ichigo's admission. The hollows she had met before arriving at the Vasto of White's lands were all difficult to get along with. Especially those that were arrogant or had self pride.
In fact, the more that she looked at Ichigo, the more that she was reminded of her first meetings with Pesche and the others who were her friends and followers. As such, she couldn't help but grow a favourable impression.
Her arms fell to her side and as she fully faced Ichigo while staring at him up and down she quickly made a decision. Meanwhile, Silent and Lilynette remained quiet in consideration of Ichigo.
"I must apologize," Nel began. "Although its true that instinct is the main factor involved in utilizing and controlling our spiritual energy, it still takes a certain level of skill to accomplish it."
Saying that, Nel opened her arms wide and beckoned Ichigo forward.
"Attack me," she said frankly.
Ichigo was stupefied at first but recollected himself when he noticed the seriousness in Nel's expression.
His hand moved subconsciously to draw Zangetsu from his back, but the motion caused Nel's face to blacken which he took note of and consciously stopped himself. He breathed in and thought of what Nel had said.
A power that came by instinct.
It was almost as if he could feel the torrent gushing from within him.
Thoughts and planning were irrelevant.
All that mattered was destroying what was in front of him.
"That's it King, Just like that!"
A voice shouted from his inner world, and it was then that he felt it. The sheer volume.
It was like an ocean, something welling from within him.
The howling of a hollow.
Guttural and deep.
Vying for release.
Lilynette gasped while Silent's face creased in worry.
The image of a horned demon seemed to take form from the spiritual energy surrounding Ichigo.
Not only did Lilynette and Silent react, others in the distance did too. After all, it was a primal sort of power. The reverence once would feel when faced with something incomprehensible.
Nel's lips thinned, her focus on Ichigo increasing several folds. This wasn't the kind of power she was expecting Ichigo to be able to utilize immediately, and as such she released her own spiritual energy in preparation.
"Come at me!" She yelled domineeringly, gaze unflinching.
It was then that Ichigo moved.
All of his power was concentrated on his fist as he punched out, black and red vestiges of energy cloaking the entirety of his arm.
Nel scoffed, eyes darting as Ichigo appeared right before her.
"Naïve!" She rose a hand and captured Ichigo's fist within.
In a clash of spiritual power, Nel's fingers gripped tighter and tighter before suffusing the energy in Ichigo's fist and tossing him to the ground.
Tumbling, Ichigo groaned as his back smashed against a nearby rock before stopping completely.
Nel starred at the bruises on her hand and the black spiritual energy that clung over it that nearly caused her to wince. Dispersing the black spiritual energy with a bit of effort, she stared peculiarly at Ichigo.
He wasn't an Adjuchas, nor was he anywhere near a Vasto Lorde. However, if he was still just an average hollow, then his attack strength was too absurd. His energy was able to penetrate through the natural defence of her toughened skin as a Vasto Lorde.
She blanked when she considered just what kind of strength Ichigo would have when he eventually became Vasto Lorde like herself. Just thinking about it was terrifying, yet it was still far into the future. Still, she didn't let her surprise show on her face.
"Now do you understand how to use your own power?" Nel questioned when Silent helped prop Ichigo up.
Ichigo groaned as he moved himself away from Silent and forced himself to stand on his own. "More or less," he grunted out.
"If that's the case, then good," Nel praised, however, her voice sharpened in the next moment. "However, you're an idiot. What kind of fool charges head on against an enemy whose strength is far above one's own? What were you thinking?"
"…" Ichigo didn't respond.
From Ichigo's expression, Nel knew well enough that Ichigo wasn't thinking.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in disappointment.
Eventually, when she opened them again, there was a hint of exasperation on her features. But she didn't say anything else at that moment and instead just stared at Ichigo. He appeared to be a newly emerged hollow, and if anything, his reactions were likable. In fact, after Ichigo had noticed her disappointment, it was hard for him to maintain her gaze without glancing away. Her lips nearly twitched into a smile, but she forced the action down.
Instead, she gave a glance towards Lilynette and Silent before the three of them came to a quiet agreement.
Nel moved to stand in front of Ichigo, her back straight.
"It would seem that you need more practice, but it will be inconvenient to practice here," Nel said slowly, trying to gauge Ichigo's reaction. "There's not enough danger involved. As such, follow me if you're willing. I know of a place more suitable."
Nel turned her back on Ichigo and gestured for him to follow closely.
Ichigo hesitated, as this wasn't exactly something that he expected. However, knowing that Nel was doing this for his sake and benefit, he shut up the protests in his mind and allowed his feet to take him forward. This would let him grow stronger, and perhaps be strong enough to protect those he cared about.
Without turning around, Nel smiled in approval, slowing down her pace so this odd looking and newly minted hollow could keep up with her.
How strong Ichigo would become as a result of his actions would entirely be up to him.
Lilynette and Silent trailed at the back.
He was harder to find than expected, Aizen mused to himself as he avoided the detection of the hollows nearby and approached a certain location.
It was a plateau overlooking Hueco Mundo's vast dunes of sand, but Aizen wasn't much for looking at the scenery. Instead, his senses locked on to the figure motionlessly staring off across at the space.
The Vasto of White.
Aizen slowed his speed and approached while making his presence known by the fluctuation in his spiritual energy. Part of the reason it had taken him so long to find this particular hollow was that the Vasto of White had different areas where it chose to stay.
This particular plateau was a new one different from the hill of sand Aizen had once found and observed the Vasto of White in.
No other hollows were in the area, causing Aizen to raise a brow. From the way the hollows living in the Vasto of White's land revered their King, it was expected that several hollows would be at his beck and call. However, with the personality of the Vasto of White, Aizen already knew that that wouldn't be the case. Instead, it was more likely for hollows to simply remain in the King's vicinity to aid in any troubles.
Contrary to expectations though, it was as if the Vasto of White knew that he was coming and relocated to a sparse area devoid of others.
Perhaps it was a coincidence, Aizen mused, but it didn't really matter.
He descended from the sky, landing a couple feet away from where the Vasto of White stood.
"Aizen," Shirou called in greeting.
Aizen simply replied back in kind before the conversation grew flat and quiet. Each of the two had their own thoughts to consider.
A wind blew by, a common event in Hueco Mundo that shifted the positioning of the vast dunes. It tugged on the long white coat Aizen was wearing and at the same time blew along small plant-like tumble weeds across the desert. He watched them silently as he gathered his thought for what he wanted to say.
The Vasto of White was an individual that undoubtedly required his full attention, and despite knowing this, he couldn't fully explain his lack of apprehension. Perhaps he was just confident in his own spiritual strength, or maybe it had to do with the challenge of dealing with someone on a similar level. But no such feeling ever arose when he thought of confronting Head-Captain Yamamoto.
Therefore, it was a first.
Someone he acknowledged that possessed a strength and means similar to his own.
Although Yamamoto was strong, in the face of Aizen's own intelligence, Aizen was confident in dealing with the Shinigami Head-Commander. Yet the Vasto of White was different.
Kyoka Suigetsu's complete hypnosis was ineffective against the Vasto of White, therefore if push came to shove, only a direct confrontation would be able to settle things.
Ability vs Ability.
However, he wasn't really inclined to make an enemy out of a hollow who may not necessarily be simple to deal with. As such, there was only one objective left to achieve, and it involved a single question. Was he friend or foe?
A part of him revolted in the act of setting all cards on the table, but he calculated that it was precisely something that he had to do. He was no fool, and he knew that his previous actions in the Soul Society had already harboured suspicion on his character in the eyes of the Vasto of White. In fact, he had already considered the outcome before following through with his plans to attain the Hogyoku. Nevertheless, it was a necessary loss, and not one that was irredeemable.
Of course, he considered another prospect in simply leading the Vasto of White on to further his own means, but the consequences of failure far outweighed the benefit. Besides, he would rather a colleague rather than a pawn. Yet a test was still necessary.
Should he lay down all his cards and the other party still refuse to reciprocate his intentions, and instead hinder him, then there was no longer any room for negotiation.
"Do you know that there's a higher realm than the one that you and I exist in?" Aizen probed slowly while inclining his head in an inquiring gesture.
His eyes were trained solely on the Vasto of White, searching for a reaction of which there was none.
Unperturbed, he decided to continue.
"Within this higher realm exists a power able to dictate and control our lives on a whim. We are the rats bound to the limitations and restrictions placed upon us by a fictional maze designed to be described as the world's natural order. As such," Aizen's expression became frank. "We are not truly free."
Aizen watched again for any changes in the Vasto of White's posture or expression but was yet again left with not a single sign to rely on. It didn't matter either way as he had yet to express his main point. Still, from the Vasto of White's lack of reaction thus far, Aizen felt that his chances of moving the Vasto of White to his cause were growing dimmer and dimmer.
Still, Aizen was never one to give up half-way.
"You do not seek power, yet have power greater than any hollow," Aizen's eyes grew pointed, expressing the observations he had made on the Vasto of White.
"You lead the hollows that follow you yet have no ambition."
"You protect them, act as their guardian and they hail you King for it, yet here you are still upon this desolate hill staring off at a blank horizon."
Aizen's words echoed silently into the wind, his voice reverberating.
"What is it that you see? What is it that you are looking for?"
Somewhere in Shirou's mind, thoughts appeared one by one and then vanished, replaced by a feeling of emptiness. Aizen was right in a way. When he stared off into the horizon, even he didn't understand what it was that he was searching for. It wasn't for any signs of hostile hollows, nor was it anything substantial or physical. Instead, it was simply a longing deep within him.
"You are a hollow but act more like a Shinigami. You save others, but in the end will still be left with no one to save."
Shirou glanced up at Aizen, the first action he had taken since the beginning of the conversation.
"Enough of this Aizen, what is it that you are getting at?" Shirou spoke frankly, unwilling to admit that he felt something for the last words that Aizen had uttered.
Indeed, over the course of saving others, in the end, there would eventually be no one to save. And the pattern only repeats, an endless cycle of one chasing something that was unattainable yet grand.
"I want your help," Aizen said simply. "The higher realm I spoke of, within it lives an existence known as the Soul King. A being that can be said to be at the center of all realms, the Human World, the Soul Society, and even Hueco Mundo. He who writes the laws of the world and rules above all, a being that can be said to even control individuals like ourselves."
"I want your help to be able to obtain freedom, and everything I have done thus far was for such a purpose."
"The Soul King?" Shirou felt a pain in his head, causing him to waver.
Something stirred from within him, a recollection, a memory, he didn't know. It was simply too fast to comprehend like lightning striking forth from the sky.
The meaning of one's existence.
A reason to continue fighting, or what it was that caused him to end up in Hueco Mundo.
It had been too long since he'd thought up on those concepts, never questioning them and instead apathetically maintaining a vigil over the white dunes of Hueco Mundo. To protect those in need of his protection, and to save those in need of saving. He had nothing else to concern himself with, but perhaps it was only because he was escaping from something. An answer.
"Indeed, the Soul King is my objective," Aizen nodded his head. "Will you help me?"
Aizen's words were sincere and Shirou understood that from how earnest Aizen was acting. There were no tricks involved, no double meanings, just a straight forward question. Aizen had spoken his mind and conveyed his intentions clearly.
It had been years since Aizen spoke to anyone as an equal, as everyone had always been within his control in the world created by Kyouka Suigetsu. It didn't matter if one agreed or not in the illusion simply because Aizen didn't have to care about opinions, he could move others how he saw fit. Therefore, there was never an equal basis when Aizen dealt with others.
Shirou was different.
He was the sole individual who Aizen could not predict, influence, or exert strength over to be entirely under his control.
"So how about it?" Aizen pressed for an answer.
At this point if Shirou didn't agree than Aizen was certain that he had to revise his thoughts. Moreover, if Shirou did agree, but have other intentions, then Aizen would rely on his own mind to work things out. Not only did he not need Kyoka Suigetsu to play on one's emotions, it had already become a second nature to him.
Perhaps he wouldn't have full control in this cooperation, but he could still influence, and that was enough.
However, the best outcome was still that Shirou would be sincere in a cooperation.
Shirou was silent for a long moment, his breathing even and a furrow in his brows, but eventually he came to a conclusion. Even if he still suspected Aizen's character, Aizen had made him realize something he should have had done long ago. He needed answers. Who he was, what was his purpose, and what it all meant. When Aizen spoke of the Soul King, it was undoubtable that Shirou had some sort of reaction to it. As such, to obtain his answers, there was merit in questioning the Soul King.
A goal was set.
"Very well," Shirou said, meeting Aizen's gaze. "I will help you, but I have my own conditions."
Aizen smirked. "Name them," he said simply.
"One, you are not to act on your own. I dislike your methods in how you obtain favours from others," Shirou began. "Did you not think that by saving Silent and returning her to us, that I would not follow through with a request of yours? Instead, you hang her safety over our heads as insurance so that we do as you want."
Shirou's eyes narrowed when Aizen opened his mouth to refute. "Don't say that that wasn't your intention Aizen. Although you insinuated Silent was safe when we were in the Soul Society, it can also be taken that she would only remain safe as long as you deemed our efforts fit."
Aizen closed his mouth and smiled wryly.
"So be it, I won't act on my own or at least not without informing," Aizen conceded. In the end, this request wasn't so difficult to deal with. After all, Aizen couldn't hide anything from Shirou anyway. His false realities were simply ineffective and anything he'd do would eventually be discovered anyway.
Shirou nodded.
"Second, you are not to harm those that aren't our enemies."
"Naturally," Aizen pushed up his glasses. "I would not do something to endanger our co-operation. Is there anything else?"
Shirou shook his head. "Nothing at the moment," he said.
"Good, then if you're done speaking then there's another matter that needs to be dealt with."
The spiritual energy around Aizen exploded outwards, one of his hands moving to his face to remove his glasses.
The very air seemed to tremble as hard rock began to dig into the ground, forming craters into the sand before the rocks themselves were buried within.
A sharp gaze, one that was riveted by a power that threatened to crush all within an unrelenting pressure.
The trees buckled and bent, fissures forming along the hard-crystalline surface before the entire structure crumbled to pieces.
Are you worthy of standing next to me?
Aizen's expression grew cold, calculative. Nothing he had ever done was without purpose. He would not tolerate working with someone incompetent.
"No one stands on top of the world. Not you, not I, not even gods."
Therefore, something must be done.
The spiritual pressure in the area doubled once again. Grains of sand beginning to vibrate before bursting entirely into thin clouds that faded in a still wind.
The unbearable vacancy in the sky,
That which was left unfulfilled.
A smile played its way across Aizen's face.
Do you have the right to compete alongside me for it?
Eyes narrowing, the spiritual pressure focused on a single point, the entirety weighing over Shirou's shoulders.
Yet,
Those bronze eyes did not so much as flinch.
"Is that all?"
The voice was too apathetic, as if regardless of how much power Aizen exerted, nothing would change.
One arm moved, followed by the other. "Trace, On."
A vortex formed, the tribal marks over Shirou's body branching out and glowing with a dull strength that seemed to envelope everything.
Magic Circuits.
That which existed not within the physical body, but the Soul.
Conduits that converted the mana in the air into magical energy.
It was as if Aizen had not exerted his spiritual pressure at all. The stiffness in the air, the tension in the surroundings, they all disappeared, sucked away by something out of even Aizen's own comprehension.
Aizen blinked, then blinked again.
"You?"
The word escaped Aizen's mouth before he could stop himself. He stood there rooted, unable to understand what had just occurred, but composing himself nonetheless. Still, he made no motions of doing anything else aside from staring at Shirou like an even more complex puzzle.
"Was there a meaning in your actions?" Shirou asked. If not for the fact that he hadn't detected any malicious intent in Aizen's actions then Shirou wouldn't have even bothered asking.
"Of course," Aizen patted the dust off of his clothing. "You see if we are to be in a partnership, it is sufficient that we can understand the extent of the others powers and abilities."
Saying that, Aizen pointed a finger to a nearby dune of sand.
"Hadō #31. Shakkahō,"
From the tip of his finger appeared a high-temperature flame that condensed into a massive orb several times larger than Aizen himself before blasting off into the dune.
The air began to swelter and dry before a massive plum of flame and blunt force energy annihilated the dune from existence.
"As you can see, I am also proficient in various types of Kido, a Shinigami art based on advanced spells. The one that I just used in particular can only be judged as middle-class, but with my absurd levels of spiritual energy, even mid-class Kido can prove lethal."
"I see," Shirou said glancing at the direction of the previous dune.
Glass had formed from the sand, smooth and reflecting the moon up above.
"Trust can only be achieved on mutual grounds," Aizen began candidly. "I have demonstrated the extent of my spiritual energy and have given you knowledge of the strengths I possess."
Aizen spoke no more, but his meaning was evident. Even if Aizen theorized that Shirou possessed a power similar to his own to allow Aizen to look upon him as an equal, proof was still undeniable.
Aizen spoke of co-operation, but if Shirou could offer nothing with his power, then what was the point?
Shirou didn't reply, but instead he knew he had to act.
His eyes shut, the energy within him gathering.
He who was a sword, would draw himself once more.
It was a power different from any other, unique and never before seen.
Around Shirou, there was a peculiar blue light gathering. It was not the glow of spiritual energy, nor was it the malice of a hollow's natural aura, rather it was distinct.
Kyouka Suigetsu began to stir by Aizen's side, causing the man's eyes to widen in alarm. From the connection with his sword, he could faintly comprehend its feelings.
Attraction?
Aizen's brows knitted together but loosened in the next moment out of surprise.
Just what was going on?
Shirou's eyes opened, the light surrounding him bursting out. He didn't summon a sword, he didn't summon a world, but instead he responded to a calling from within him. It wasn't something that he was experienced with, but it was different from the strength he had already shown Aizen in the Soul Society.
The swords stored in an eternal armoury.
A lonely hill.
And the request of an individual.
The energy began to coalesce, taking form under Aizen's scrutiny.
Pale skin, and a refined grace, eyes like mirrors reflecting a tranquil lake.
It was a sword, yet not a sword.
That which embodies the spirit of a sword but doesn't exist in the natural world.
To give form to thought and recreate that which was uncreatable.
The rustling of silk and the billowing of long black hair. A demeanour that was unmistakable.
"I-Impossible," The words escaped Aizen's mouth even as he briefly glanced at the sword by his own side, his mind blanking.
For before him stood a woman with a disposition no different from his own.
One who sought a perfect state of existence.
Kyouka Suigetsu.
Hands grabbed at the hem of a dress before curtsying, a candid smile appearing over delicate features.
"Greetings, Lord wielder."
Chapter 32: Hueco Mundo: Part 1
Questions existed only because of curiosity, the one emotion that drives the notion of both change and progress, and allows one to seek what one doesn't possess and understand.
An anomaly driven by cause and effect.
A means to link a sole thought with another, one piece to a wider puzzle.
If there was a Heaven, then there was a Hell.
If there was light, then there was dark.
A link always existed to explain something inexplicable.
It was a foundation of the world, a natural order of things.
Sinners would be brought into the levels of Hell and chained by the weight of their own evil, cursed to a life of eternal damnation; a never-ending torment that even the most hardened of criminals would find unbearable, their bones reduced to paste, their bodies burned to ashes by a searing heat.
Thus, was the fate of those who would do to others what they would not do to themselves.
And on the other side of the spectrum existed the majority of individuals, the good and the neutral. Those that would eventually ascend to Heaven and return to the cycle of the world.
The both of them created a state of balance.
Hell was related to the souls of the damned, and Heaven was the jurisdiction of the Soul Society and the Seireitei.
As for Hueco Mundo, it was hard to say.
It was something that shouldn't have had existed as it served no purpose. It simply an earthen space of sand and a kingdom of rubble left forgotten even by he who had created it.
Eyes devoid of feelings stirred for the first time in millennia; pitch black orbs strained into a narrow oval shape glowing with a dull light from behind closed eye-lids. It wasn't that no feelings existed, but the concept of such trivialities had far exceeded their use from the moment one was able to see past emotion and at the flow of time itself. In a way, it was kind of similar to evolution, parts that were no longer necessary discarded for a greater picture and eventually whittled away into a void of meaninglessness.
Such was the result of an existence whose purpose alone was to maintain the balance.
Neither possessing ambition, nor hate.
Simply an idleness born from reservation.
So, its begun.
An absent thought, one spoken more in passing than something one would think about, yet it was enough to indicate the return of his self awareness. The lynchpin that holds the very world together, and he who resides at the center of the Palace of the King, the Soul King.
The fluttering of his eyes ceased, the storm within him calming once more and returning to a state of tranquility despite knowing what was bound to occur.
The anomaly of the world was once again awakening.
The arms he no longer had and the power he had once wielded flittered through his mind; a reoccurrence of a simple memory.
A tremble appeared over his face, miniscule and too subtle for even the most loyal of the Royal Guards guarding his chamber to notice. Then again, it didn't matter. The burden on his shoulders was not one that was meant to be shared, rather it was his to bear alone as the Soul King.
A duty that he must fulfill without question.
Recalling the images found within his memory, a part of him wished to grimace. In the time of his youth, he had done a great many things while still fundamentally supporting the world with his existence. Watching over the beginnings of the Soul Society, establishing the world order and the flow of souls, all were things under his jurisdiction and supervision, and yet he had taken it for granted.
Back then, the world order was rather simple. A soul died and based on the actions of the individual in its life, the Soul would either go to Hell or be transported to what would eventually become the Soul Society. No middle ground existed and when Hollows eventually formed from spirits with past attachments on the earth, they would roam freely and devour the humans inhabiting the lands. It was the reason why humans were able to develop strong spiritual awareness and power to combat them.
This too was a result of his influence to help maintain the balance.
Regardless, some hollows were just too strong and these hollows would eventually be dealt with either by his Royal Guard or the then newly formed Shinigami to prevent the deaths of too many human souls. It was an easy affair, for hollows were limited to hiding in the world of the Humans from whence they came.
Yet it was the sudden appearance of what would eventually be called Hueco Mundo that changed everything.
It was a world unlike anything the Soul King had ever seen in his youth, and it had appeared just as suddenly. A world of its own that inherently switched the Self and the World while keeping the Soul King's set boundary at the same standard. As such, it was integrated with the natural order of things as if it had always been there.
The world Hueco Mundo formed radiated with an innate aura of solitude and desolation, a muffled feeling of emptiness derived from a bitter sentiment of loss permeating endlessly.
To the Soul King's surprise, he could not understand a single thing about Hueco Mundo. His very existence which was tied into the fabrics of reality unable to link itself with the rules and standards that comprised it. Perturbed as he had been on the matter then, it didn't matter as much as the fact that like moths to a flame, the Hollows formed from the Human World were drawn to it.
Practically all Hollows that had once inhabited the earth vanished in a single moment as they migrated towards a single destination and inadvertently escaped annihilation; the world they now lived in allowing them to visit and torment the Human world at a whim.
No one knew Hueco Mundo's history and only the Soul King could barely understand it after a millennium of interaction, but that wasn't the point.
The Hueco Mundo of back then, was far different from the Hueco Mundo of the present.
He fell into contemplation, the minute knitting of his brows revealing the depths of his thoughts, but in the end, he slowly relaxed, resolving himself to his role even as the darkness he had been supressing within him steadily began crawling up over his skin.
A foul tainted black.
The result of a mistake he could never reverse after exposure.
One that left him no choice but to limit his powers and even contain himself within an unusual barrier.
But he would worry no longer,
Because the Hero he had foreseen was finally prompted into action.
Aizen stood there for a long time, his gaze not leaving the woman who stood in front of him for it could be said that this woman knew him the most. Alternatively, he knew her the most as his most trusted partner.
An existence closest to that which he found to be the most ideal.
Her expression hadn't even shifted by a fraction despite how rude it was that he had still yet to return her greetings. It was a sign of her patience that was perhaps equal to or more than his own, the calm light in her eyes enough to remind him of the validity of his own conjecture.
"Kyoka Suigetsu," he whispered out her name, watching as a bemused smile spread across the captivating woman's face, soft dimples forming on her cheeks.
"Honoured wielder," she greeted back with a bow, her hands resting on her lap and holding the hem of her dress in the process.
Aizen didn't know what to think at this point. To begin with, he wanted to understand the capabilities of the individual he would be co-operating with aside from what he already knew. What he got as a result was something beyond his expectations.
Kyoka Suigetsu was not only his blade, but his Zanpakuto spirit.
If he could list anyone who could possibly outwit him in terms of intelligence, there could only be two. Kisuke Urahara, and Kyoka Suigetsu, a representation of his inner self. As such, with Kyoka Suigetsu able to take material form, a feat normally impossible, it was like having two minds working towards the same conclusion.
No words were necessary to explain the benefits of such a thing, and this alone was enough to prove that his actions of allying with Shirou weren't wasted. It would be far worse if they were opposed and a portion of his plans were inadvertently revealed by Kyoka Suigetsu. He was exceedingly pleased as a result, enough so that it almost became unbearable to maintain his indifference, but in the end, he was a man of excellent self-control.
"This is most unexpected," he said, turning to Shirou who only nodded back.
"She should be able to stay for as long as she wishes to, granted I continue providing her with ample spiritual energy," Shirou said while feeling quite odd about the situation.
Even he didn't expect this result, as it was something that just spontaneously happened. To be honest, he had actually intended on tracing a fairly impressive sword to try and imply to Aizen about the versatility of his abilities. However, a part of him felt a sudden instinct that had caused Kyoka Suigetsu's manifestation.
It wasn't that he had actively tried to will her into the world, it was just that she had somehow been able to do so naturally for one reason or another almost as if there was a connection of sorts that he was missing. Something about his soul and Hueco Mundo.
Then again, he had been feeling slightly off about himself ever since the rescue in the Soul Society, like a part of him that he was unfamiliar with was awakening. Regardless, now wasn't the time to ponder on the issue.
He took a breath, his eyes meeting with Aizen's and attempting to read the man's thoughts to no avail.
Kyoka simply looked between the two men before simply standing up to ready the tea she knew Aizen was keeping stored somewhere in his belongings. As such, it wasn't long before the gentle clatter of glass plates being set echoed out into the surroundings.
Aizen gave a nod of acknowledgment while Shirou gave a quiet thanks as Kyouka poured both him and Aizen drinks.
Taking the offered cup into his hands, Aizen took a moment to sample the tea before moving on to business; the distinct clang of glass touching glass echoing out as he leisurely placed his drink down.
"As we are now working together, it's imperative that we increase our strength to deal with the hurdles ahead of us," Aizen said forwardly, being the first to talk in a while as his hands clasped together in front of him. "The people we will eventually face have strength greater than or equal to our own current levels and they are more than just one individual."
Shirou raised a brow.
"And what are you proposing?" He asked.
Aizen stared at him for a long moment before simply taking out the Hogyoku from a storage he kept on his person. It was a glimmering jewel, one that contained unimaginable power concentrated into a small sphere.
Aizen leisurely placed it on the surface in front of him.
"I've told you of the Hogyoku's power already. It's necessary for you and the other hollows to be able to improve their strength, and although I know you're not inclined to use it, are you confident that you would be strong enough against an entity like the Soul King while protecting everyone around you?"
Shirou stiffened minutely, the clenching of his fists enough to indicate his hesitance to answer with surety. Honestly speaking, Aizen's point was valid and wasn't something that he had the luxury of ignoring. Still, there were other means to gain strength, he just had to find them.
Yet even before he could rebuke Aizen's words, the man spoke once again and forced him to fall silent with a single fact alone.
"He with the ability to stand at the top of the world, even with your current level of strength, I fear that you would still not be his match. Not the way you are now."
Aizen picked up the Hogyoku, resting it on his open palm as he activated its power, tendrils of flowing spiritual energy extending out like billowing reeds.
"It will only take a moment," he said persistently, a part of him sensing a strange polarity with the Hogyoku and Shirou. "For the sake of those who follow you."
Silence, and then finally Shirou moved.
That which grants one's deepest desires, and a hollow who seemingly had nothing to gain or hope for.
Images flashed across his mind, blurred faces and muted voices causing the emptiness he felt inside to grow ever wider. This was no longer about just protecting those who followed him. From the Hogyoku, he could sense something. A desire that had shaped his very existence.
A hero that had lost his way,
And a world that was a reflection of his stagnation.
He had to know. He had to understand.
A desolate land whose hill and past glory was no longer recognizable.
Like embers needed to start a flame, an arm tentatively reached forward; a desire born from a child who had once made a promise subconsciously beckoning it forth.
To reach for the goal that was once strived for,
The hand met the orb, the very world consumed by a radiant blue light of dawn.
The recommencement of an eternal path of no tomorrow.
The sound of laboured breathing echoed into the air, hoarse and exceedingly strained in the valley separated by a cliff on either side covered with sand.
Shadows from the moon above stretched down into the open crevice, looming dark masses that obscured all light; creating a wall of black that only reflected the pale-yellow eyes of those watching from the distance, but not daring to approach any further.
This wasn't part of the Lands of the Vasto of White, rather it was several miles away at a location where wandering hollows frequented. The majority of them were of the Adjuchas-class, freshly evolved from the entrance leading into the Menos Forest from an open cavity at the base of the nearest cliff.
All of them were watching attentively, some sharpening their claws, and others leering, their teeth jittering together in a cacophony of eerie wails and clicking noises.
In the area outside the Lands of the Vasto of White, all Hollows understood one main point.
One had to fight to survive.
There was no free source of spiritual energy to allow them to constantly feed and further their evolution. Instead, it was eat or be eaten. Only the strongest would be able to evolve and stand at the top, and yet this saying was only rarely feasible. It was more efficient to say that only the most treacherous could stand at the top.
Those that had both patience and prudence, and those that knew when an opportunity presented itself before them to act.
A battle between two powerful hollows may be dangerous to get involved in but waiting until either side was tired out was another matter entirely.
The current battle before them was one that was exceedingly tempting. Just from looking at the combatants, one could mistake them both for Vasto Lordes, but that title only belonged to one of the two. And yet the other was subconsciously outputting a spiritual aura no weaker than a Vasto Lordes.
It was tempting indeed. More so when almost all of the waiting hollows noted how weak the other hollow appeared, constantly getting battered away and driven directly into the ground.
To be this weak and possess such potent spiritual energy, if not for the Vasto Lorde currently fighting, an untold number of Adjuchas-level hollows would have had tried their luck.
In fact, some were still far from dissuaded, more so for those that reached a bottleneck in their evolution and needed a substantial amount of energy to accommodate. Those kinds of hollows would never let this type of opportunity go.
Yet life in Heuce Mundo was never easy, for once again none dared approach when they felt a piercing gaze land on them.
The gaze of an entity that surpassed their current level and could kill them on a whim.
Thus, was the power of the pinnacle existence amongst hollows.
Sovereigns amidst the masses of the weak.
A Vasto Lorde.
And yet, no hollow watching retreated, because they were all of the less savory sort, the thought of somehow earning big unable to leave their minds.
They would continue patiently waiting.
For in the end, to the victor would go the spoils, and in this case, the victor was already clear amongst the two fighting.
"Get up."
The words were prompt and curt. Devoid of any feelings and reflecting the calmness of the hazel eyes that silently urged him on with a gentle bemusement he never thought possible in the deceitful gaze of a hollow.
Ichigo groaned, his fingers clasping at the sand from his position sprawled on the ground, his knees beneath him in a forward position as he tossed a weary glance at the Hollows eying him intently from all around.
He knew their intentions as they watched him; he could even feel their murderous intent and that only made his growing vigilance sky-rocket.
More than once, he had wanted to warn them off, but each time Nel would not allow it by intercepting him the moment he chose to do so.
"They are waiting for a chance," Nel's voice entered his ears as he staggered up to his feet. "They can see it, that you are weak."
He swallowed, forcing down the indignation he felt from Nel's words simply because they were true.
Zangetsu was left to the side, the butcher-like blade stabbed into the ground as the white cloth tied at its pommel drifted in a steady wind. He could almost imagine himself grasping its hilt and using the sword to show the hollows eyeing him just how strong he could be.
Then again, from the darkening of Nel's eyes when she noticed him stare at Zangetsu, it was more likely that she would beat him into the ground far harder than she was already. And his body was in enough pain as it was.
He grimaced, the action not missed by Nel who involuntarily smirked before uncrossing her arms.
Like himself, she was fighting bare-handed, her weapon placed on the side and in the clutches of Lilynette who was observing with his mother in the distance.
"The strength of a Hollow does not need to rely on a weapon," Nel said, expression composed while she walked forward. "From the very moment one becomes a Hollow, their physical bodies and capabilities are all they need to survive even against Shinigami. To even think of using a weapon at this point would ruin the point of this training."
Inwardly she was scowling, the sting of her hands making her feel uncomfortable. If not for herself setting an example, she would have had much preferred dealing with Ichigo using her lance rather than her hands to block. Although his attacks were generally weak and something she could absently deal with, she was reluctant to admit that the force behind them actually hurt even through her toughened skin.
"Again," she said, her attention focused on the way Ichigo was naturally beginning to draw upon the large reserves of spiritual energy he had at his disposal.
Ichigo's potential was honestly shocking, and perhaps more than that was the rate of his progress. From a hollow that didn't even know how to use its own innate power, to a hollow capable of now producing enough force in its attacks that she had to restrict her expression just to not give anything away. Quite frankly, she was speechless but impressed at the same time.
The fact that the fear of being attacked from behind was instilling a sense of panic within him was all the better to force out that potential.
She glanced up at him once more, watching as his muscles tensed and joints loosened, power gathering into his palms.
Good.
This was how it should be.
He sprang forward on his feet just as she had expected, appearing before her almost in an instant.
His toes planted onto the ground, carrying the entirety of his weight as he twisted his body to generate more force in the punch he shot out with.
She snorted before back handing the attack, her knuckles grazing against Ichigo's arm and redirected its angle.
Wisps of Ichigo's red-tinted black spiritual energy calmly passed by her face, the shockwave of wind produced creating a hail storm of sand that fell overhead.
"Not good eno-"
Even as the words escaped her mouth, she felt a trail of liquid slowly trickle down from her cheek. Her brows furrowed together, she didn't need to see it to understand that a thin cut had formed on her face, her blood drawn.
A silence descended before she snorted at the pose Ichigo was making while waiting for her supposed counter strike; his eyes were already closed, and both of his arms covered his face as his body hunched to reduce his tall stature.
He blinked at her, feeling embarrassed when Nel then laughed.
"What?" He said heatedly, feeling flustered. "Did you expect me to just present my face to you? Well it's not happening."
Ichigo crossed his arms, his gaze shifting away from Nel even as she spoke.
"I believe you already understand what it was that I was trying to teach you at this point, well done," Nel said, Ichigo furrowing his brows at her praise.
For the longest time, he had considered all hollows to be the sort that preyed on humans like the ones he had faced in the Human World, cold blooded killers that only cared for their next meal.
Yet ever since coming to Hueco Mundo, this mind-set was gradually shifting. Almost all the Hollows he had met in the Lands of the Vasto of White appeared to be no different from Humans or Shinigami. They were nothing close to the image he had had in his mind.
More so when he noticed Nel give a frigid glare at the hollows still waiting for an opportunity, warning them to back of off on his behalf.
As expected, they reluctantly began to retreat. It was one thing if Nel was fighting Ichigo, it was another if Nel was protecting him. The hollows that had been waiting knew that there would be no chance to act any longer, for infuriating a Vasto Lorde in Hueco Mundo was the fastest way to a premature death.
Within moments, the area cleared, leaving only Ichigo and Nel.
"Thanks," Ichgio said quietly.
Nel only nodded back as the two lapsed into a silence.
Staring at Nel, Ichigo was quite grateful to her for taking the time to help him train. Yet at the same time he grew curious. He could understand from Nel's personality that she was an honest and upright individual even if she was a hollow. In that case, what did it mean for her to follow the Hollow known as the Vasto of White. The very Hollow that had lead an attack against the Soul Society?
His lips thinned into a frown, until the point where he couldn't help but voice the question.
"What kind of hollow is the Vasto of White?" He asked.
Unlike Lilynette who he knew would reply in simple terms, he was certain that he could get an actual explanation from Nel.
"The Vasto of White?" Nel's expression softened as she glanced up at the moon. "If I were to describe him, it would be a noble individual. Someone with a courage and strength greater than any other."
He mulled over her words but chose not to speak to allow her to continue.
"You may not know this Ichigo, but the reason the Lands of the Vasto of White were created in the first place was because the hollows who live in it were all protected by the Vasto of White. He had no obligation to protect them, no reason at all other than the fact that he wanted to. And that is why the hollows that he had protected call him King. For no other Hollow would do something like that for another Hollow let alone several thousand of them," Nel paused in her words, a seriousness in her expression. "He is a respectable and selfless Hollow, and the only one deserving of my loyalty."
Nel nodded her head in resolution before turning her gaze on Ichigo whose mouth was already open to speak.
"If the Vasto of White is as you've described him to be, then why would he attack the Soul Society?" Ichigo questioned.
It was the one thing that didn't make sense to him. Nel called the Vasto of White a noble, respectable, and selfless individual, but then why would he lead the hollows he had sheltered to attack the Soul Society if it meant harm to them?
Nel pursed her lips, her eyes staring at Ichigo in peculiarity as if she couldn't understand how he didn't know the reason.
"You were there weren't you?" She questioned.
Ichigo nodded his head as he was indeed there when the attack on the Soul Society occurred.
"Then shouldn't you already know?"
"I didn't actively participate," he replied truthfully.
Nel sighed before simply pointing with her finger towards Silent and Lilynette still watching in the distance. The two wouldn't approach until Nel beckoned them over to signal the end of the training.
Staring at the direction indicated, Ichigo fell quiet.
"It was all to save her," Nel said simply. "For the sake of one, he had even attempted to go alone. It wasn't the Vasto of White that lead the hollows to a war, but the hollows themselves who chose to do so."
Ichigo's mouth opened in disbelief, the lines forming on his brow growing numerous as his forehead creased. However, he could understand that Nel wasn't lying, and it was because of this that he was left at even more of a loss.
It was a piece of information that was hard for him to swallow.
The Vasto of White was not the type of individual he thought him to be, rather, it was more appropriate for him to thank the man instead for his efforts.
Still, that wasn't something he currently had the courage to do. Even with Nel's words, he decided that he would have to judge the Vasto of White for himself.
He stood up, his body stinging from the numerous times he was forced to eat sand through Nel's training. He was honestly just glad that it was over, but Ichigo got a sinking feeling when Nel grasped at his arm. To Nel, he was a hollow on good terms with Lilynette and was thus subsequently placed in a part of Nel's mind that labeled him as ally.
And an ally with the aptitude to reach even her level was one that she wouldn't allow to slack like Pesche and Dondochakka.
"Hold on," she said slowly. "Did you really think that we were done?"
The expression on her face could be described as beautiful; the gentle upturning of her lips, and the smug way her eyes narrowed on his, able to force any man into a fluster.
Yet in Ichigo's eyes, Nel's appearance was nothing more than a Devil.
The burst of blue spiritual light that then engulfed all of Hueco Mundo in the next moment an adequate reflection of his inner turmoil.
When Soifon had first been assigned by the Seireitei to investigate Aizen's matters in Heuco Mundo she had believed that the assignment would have had been exceedingly difficult, not tedious. Rather than finding Aizen or the Vasto of White, she and her small unit were lost within the deserts of Hueco Mundo. Granted, Hueco Mundo was a place that the Seireitei had never really explored with adequate results to begin with.
It was imperative that she discover Aizen's location due to the state of the matter Yoruichi had explained on Kisuke Urahara's behalf. Aizen's goal was one that the Seireitei absolutely couldn't allow to come to fruition, and as a result, it had to be stopped at all costs.
She gritted her teeth, an arm shielding her eyes from the gusts of sand picked up by the wind and blown in her direction.
Generally speaking, if it was just Aizen alone, the Seireitei would never have had risked sending her to an area known to be brimming with unknown dangers. Instead, they would have waited and followed Kisuke's predictions to set up a barrier dimension Aizen would have had no choice but to walk into. From there, all the available Captains and the Head-Commander would work together to put an end to Aizen's goals.
But Aizen wasn't alone.
There was another individual that had to be taken into account.
The Vasto of White.
He with a power that could very well change the tide of a battlefield on a whim.
She wasn't certain of Aizen's strength yet, but she was certain of the Vasto of White's. And his ability was too grim to think about for too long.
Many Captains would never forget the sight of that day.
A sky filled with swords and weapons, raining down like hail in a bitter winter.
Supposed that the Siereitei had went with Kisuke's plan of catching Aizen in a trap. Who was to say that Kisuke would be able to account for the strength that the Vasto of White was capable of without having seen it first hand?
It wasn't a risk Yamamoto was willing to take unless necessary. Therefore, she had been sent to first verify on what kind of terms Aizen was on with the Vasto of White. If they were just acquaintances, then that would be adequate, enemies even better. However, if it was the worst-case scenario and they were working together, then she would have to report back immediately after setting up the transmitters equipped to each member of her team. The transmitters worked to allow her and the Seireitei to use them as a way point to travel through the precipice world and directly to the specific location in Hueco Mundo.
Launching a pre-emptive strike then would not be out of the question.
The only problem at the moment was simply locating where Aizen was. On top of the sand beating away at their bodies, it didn't help that almost everything looked identical in Hueco Mundo. It was simply one dune of sand after another in an endless cycle.
Her irritation building as she and her team avoided the gazes of random hollows, she was caught unprepared when a sudden flash of blue light engulfed everyone present, causing them to gasp in surprise.
The sand seemed to shift into a rustic red hue.
A place left forgotten.
She paused in her steps, a hand raising to alert the others around her to take similar actions.
Hueco Mundo itself seemed to come alive, an odd clinking noise reverberating in her ears as the dark sky illuminated transitioned into a twilight born from an extended horizon.
A manufactory of steel. A forge.
The ground beneath began to tremble and move, dunes of sand reducing themselves into churning flat plains that revealed some kind of massive object still hidden beneath the small dunes.
And from there came the flames, wide arcs of fire that shot out in all directions like branches on a tree. A smithery of heat to ore.
The fires dim and blackened like coal and hardened smelt.
She couldn't understand what was happening. One moment the very world seemed to be changing, then in the next, everything stopped.
The shifting hue of the sands, and even the flames she had seen burning, it was like they had never appeared.
And yet the lingering smell of ash wafted into her nose.
She narrowed her eyes, crouching down and taking a handful of white sand that she then brought close to her face and sniffed.
It was as she had expected.
Ash left behind by a fire was always a pale white, leaving behind a pungent smell from the smoke.
She grew alarmed, linking the flame-lit world she had seen to the Hueco Mundo of present. She stiffened, the sand in her hands falling to the ground like a wave of dust.
Hueco Mundo, the world of white and a dark night.
A middle ground, and the realm where lost souls gathered; a domain whose origins and history had always been widely unknown.
In the end, what exactly was this?
Her brows furrowed incomprehensively, the tips of her fingers brushing tentatively over Hueco Mundo's shifted sands. She couldn't understand what had happened, but there was a gleam of curiosity in her eyes, one born from discovering the unknown.
She prompted her subordinates behind her to wait as she got up and stepped forward. Looking at the surroundings, it was certain that what had occurred had not been an illusion, the absence of the tall dunes of sand around her was tantamount to that.
Although the majority of them were gone, some hills remained. And those hills were the points that Soifon noted had something large hidden beneath them.
She paused at one such hill, debating if what she was doing was worth the investigation for there was a chance that she would be giving her position away. In the end however, the answer was decided for her when the loose sand began shifting with the breeze, an obsidian coloured object revealing itself.
She pursed her lips, spiritual energy transmitting form her hands and down to her finger tips; a single action clearing away the remaining sand and revealing what was beneath.
A cold and hard metal, one worn and increasingly ancient; riveted pieces of iron and steel still bolted together through a means out of her own comprehension. For this object was too large to be produced in any smithery she knew of, and even then, the purpose of this object in Hueco Mundo eluded her.
Cracks had formed along its surface, the casting dented and just barely holding together by the strength of its make alone.
Buried beneath the dunes, only a portion of it was made visible despite her effort of unearthing it, but even then, it was enough for Soifon to understand what it was after a thorough scrutiny.
The cut grooves and edges,
The circular design and outer rim gouged in pattern like projections.
It was a cog.
A monolithic Black Gear.
She shook her head, no longer willing to think about matters that were irrelevant to her current mission.
Hueco Mundo was just Hueco Mundo.
She signalled for her team to come back together before giving out her orders.
"Let's go," were her final words.