"Boring. This is so damn boring! "
With a pitch-black human-shaped bundle slung over his shoulder, Yūshirō Shihōin trudged through the endless desert, grumbling to himself.
"How long have I been walking? Where am I even going? What's the meaning of my life? "
"If I stay here long enough, I'll go insane from these three questions alone."
He mocked himself bitterly.
This place was called Hueco Mundo—a world completely opposite to the Soul Society, a realm steeped in despair.
There was no sun here. Look up, and all you'd see was a cold, lonely moon, the only light in an otherwise pitch-black world.
The moon never moved. There was no day, no night, and no sense of direction. East, west, north, south—all meaningless when space itself feels distorted.
This entire world ran on one rule: the law of the jungle.
There were no friends here, because survival left no room for kindness. There were only two roles: hunter and prey. An endless cycle of both.
"If I stay in this place any longer, will my mind even be intact when I return to Soul Society? "
Yūshirō kept walking, aimless yet relentless. He didn't know his destination—he just hoped to find someone, anyone, he could talk to.
But his overwhelming spiritual pressure ensured he would find no such thing.
Hollows lurking on the outskirts of Hueco Mundo—no matter how strong—shattered like glass beneath his oceanic reiatsu. Before Yūshirō could even take a good look at them, they'd already been crushed to dust.
And so, the barren lands gained another lonely wanderer.
Or not.
"Looks like it's time to check what Ōetsu left me."
Sōgo sat on a lonely sand dune, eyeing the black-wrapped package with a faint grin.
"Come out, my beloved—wait, what the hell is this?! "
Inside was no Zanpakutō made like he'd hoped, but an old, microwave-like device and a small note.
"Hueco Mundo's short on food. This thing absorbs spirit particles and converts them into meals. Enjoy. —Ōetsu Nimaiya."
Sōgo read the note aloud, his face blank.
"So… it's just a glorified food processor? "
He stared at the "microwave" in disappointment. Sure, it was practical, but it couldn't talk and couldn't ease his loneliness. All he really wanted was someone to chat with. Nothing more.
"Guess I'll keep moving."
Packing away the spirit-food machine, he continued forward. The road of life was long, and he still had to walk it.
Loneliness.
Only those born with immense spiritual power truly understood what it meant.
Starrk had never wanted to hurt anyone. But ever since he became self-aware, he had harmed everything around him without meaning to.
His evolution from Gillian to Adjuchas was as natural as breathing. And from there, he climbed even higher—not by ambition, but by survival.
Even when he held back, his opponents were always too fragile. One by one, they fell. Until, unknowingly, Starrk reached the pinnacle—a Vasto Lorde, and not just any, but one so powerful that even his peers feared him.
"Who am I? What am I supposed to do? "
Loneliness gnawed at him, so he talked to himself. Over and over. Hoping that one day… he'd answer.
Until today.
BOOM!
A thunderous crash shook the still air. Starrk looked up and slowly walked toward the source. Cloaked in his ragged mantle, he approached the scene—
"Hollow Bowling! Launch! "
—and froze.
A boy—no, a young man—hurled what looked like a spiky Adjuchas Hollow like a bowling ball toward a perfectly arranged triangle of ten Gillians.
Crash!
The impact was explosive. Ten Gillians shattered into streams of spirit particles. The Adjuchas lay barely alive, twitching in the sand.
"Uh…"
Starrk gaped. Even in his crushing solitude, he'd never once thought of harming others for fun. Though… it did look amusing.
"Hmm?"
The boy—Yūshirō Shihōin—turned, sensing Starrk's towering reiatsu.
What he saw was… unexpected.
A tall, statuesque figure in a sand-colored cloak. Flowing green hair. A white helmet crowning her head. An eyepatch covering her right eye. Her curves, her height, her sharp beauty—
Yes. Her.
"Interesting."
For the first time in a long while, Yūshirō lips curled into a curious smile. He had been here for days, maybe weeks, but never had he seen a Hollow with such a human form.
"Want to join? "
He tried to strike up a conversation.
"…"
Silence. A crushing, endless silence.
"Uh?"
"I mean this. The game. Want to play? "
He gestured awkwardly, explaining with his hands.
"…"
More silence.
"…Seriously? Guess we have to fight first, huh? "
Sōgo sighed. He'd hoped, for once, to find someone to talk to. Even if it was a Hollow.
"Mm."
Just as his hope died, the figure gave a small nod.
"Huh? You understand me? "
His ears perked. He caught her soft whisper—
"…Understand."
She'd spoken. Just one word, halting but clear.
"That's great! I'm Yūshirō Shihōin. You? "
He stepped closer, hand outstretched, eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Lilynette… Starrk."
After a long pause, she placed her hand in his. For the first time in centuries, she said her name aloud—the name she'd been saving for the day someone reached out first.