"Roar—!!"
A deafening roar shattered the stillness of the plains. The soundwaves battered the air, whipping up fierce gusts that screamed across the barren land.
A colossal figure, hundreds of meters tall, lumbered through the soft earth, leaving enormous footprints in its wake. Its grotesque, elongated nose twitched unnaturally, as if sniffing out prey.
This was a lower-level Great Hollow: Girian.
For reasons unknown, it had crossed dimensions and arrived in the Soul Society. Though its spiritual pressure was immense, its limited intelligence confined it to purely instinctual action.
Even in this alien environment, its first thought was simple: hunt. Eat. Fill the void.
Soon… just a few more souls, and it could evolve into a mid-level Great Hollow.
In mere moments, it detected a direction, and with legs like mountains, it began moving toward a nearby town teeming with civilians.
Unbeknownst to Girian, a figure appeared behind it—its spiritual pressure unreadable, elusive.
The figure raised a left hand, extending a single finger. Calm, deliberate words cut through the air:
"Bones scattered across the stars."
"Spikes, red crystal, iron wheels."
"Motion is wind; stillness is emptiness."
"The clash of long spears fills the hollow city!"
"Kidō #63: Raikōhō."
The moment the final word fell, a torrent of spiritual pressure coalesced at the fingertip—and then exploded. The violent winds of the plains abruptly halted, as though the world itself had been paused.
Next—
A blinding golden flash surged like a river in flood, twisted arcs of lightning shot skyward, illuminating the murky sky and revealing the hulking Great Hollow below.
Girian finally realized the danger. It twisted its massive body, straining to identify the attacker. But before it could react, the condensed lightning pillar surged with unstoppable force, swallowing the creature whole.
Pain beyond comprehension shattered the few remnants of its reason. It unleashed a tortured howl that echoed across the plains.
The figure cloaked in Kidō light paused, slightly surprised. The fully cast Kidō #63 hadn't instantly destroyed this Girian.
Yet that was fine.
Ordinary Girians wouldn't survive such an attack, but this one was on the cusp of evolving into a mid-level Hollow. Its iron-hard skin made it unusually resilient.
If one blast wasn't enough… then two would do.
"Kidō #63: Raikōhō."
Again, the words fell casually, as if commenting on something unrelated. Lightning poured from the heavens like inverted rivers, engulfing the giant form once more.
The impact rippled in all directions, carving deep gouges into the plains until the mountain-like form collapsed with a deafening crash.
Its crimson eyes dimmed, life slipping away.
"Dead matter can be studied…" a faint voice muttered under the glow of Kidō light. "But living specimens hold far greater value. Let's hope this time we obtain the desired results."
As he readied spiritual instruments to capture Girian, a sudden spiritual pressure triggered a pre-set Kidō barrier at the edge of the plains.
The figure lifted its gaze, a flash of curiosity in golden eyes. The intruder was fast, and their target was clear.
No hesitation. Abandoning the half-captured specimen, the figure vanished in an instant via shunpo, but did not leave entirely.
Instead, they concealed themselves atop a hill, quickly laying multiple binding Kidō barriers to mask their presence.
The plains churned with dust and debris, as if a fleet of mud wagons had plowed through at full speed.
Another figure emerged on the battlefield.
Clad in a haori over a Shihakushō, the image of the One-Eyed Deity flickered with every ripple of cloth. Its promotional message—"It costs nothing, give a little faith"—stood out vividly.
The hidden figure under the binding barrier froze, astonished.
It was him?
It wasn't supposed to be a member of the Second or Eighth Division…
"Huh?"
"Where did he go?!"
Kisaragi Akira scanned the area, frustrated. Even with his speed, he had failed to catch the thief's trail.
"Should've approached quietly," he muttered, eyes darting to the battle remnants.
The fallen Girian sprawled across the ground. Its black, slick skin bore countless jagged gaps from the lightning strike, shredded as if by hundreds of high-caliber rounds. Not a single patch of intact flesh remained.
And yet… it wasn't dead.
Faint crimson light flickered in its dull eyes, its body still heaving. Clearly, it wouldn't last long.
Tsk… that was brutal.
Kisaragi Akira grimaced, then began scanning the air for other lingering traces. Two distinct spiritual pressures lingered: one dark and violent, unmistakably Girian's.
The other… unfamiliar. He had no memory of it, yet it felt… strangely familiar.
Suddenly, the dark void in the sky twisted again, blood-red arcs forming within.
Kisaragi's eyes widened in surprise. Before he could fully react, a violent surge erupted from the darkness, a torrent of energy cascading across the plains.
Shunpo instinctively triggered, emitting a sharp alert. Such an attack, requiring time to charge, might not even hit him if he danced at the last moment.
Vanishing from the spot, he flickered through the red torrent like a blade dancing on an edge.
"Secret Technique: Zig-Zag Leap!"
The hidden figure under the binding barrier watched, baffled, as he weaved between the energy streams.
"What's he doing now? Just step outside the range…"
But the energy dissipated, and more colossal Girians emerged from the void, their skeletal masks and crimson eyes radiating insatiable greed.
They inhaled the ambient spiritual energy, reveling in this foreign world.
"A horde of Great Hollows?"
Kisaragi's brow furrowed. He might be reckless, but not stupid.
"Doesn't matter. Let's fight!"
The Girians' eyes locked on him. Kisaragi readied himself, limbs coiling with explosive energy. His spiritual pressure was relatively weak compared to these mid-level Hollows.
[Name: Kisaragi Akira]
[Roles: Custodian of the Inverted Bone Shrine, Soul Society civilian, disciple of Genryu, Third Seat of the Eleventh Division]
[Spiritual Pressure: Lv70]
[Kenjutsu: Lv75]
[Hakuda: Lv60]
[Shunpo: Lv50]
[Kidō: Lv55]
[Unique Traits: Spiritual Affinity, Danger Instinct, Heart of the Deity, Skillful Recovery, Light as a Swallow, Mercy of the Death Sword, Kidō Mastery, Ingenious, Absolute Justice]
His stats were impressive, a testament to Master Yamamoto's relentless training.
Even the weakest—Shunpo—was now on par with higher-ranking officers, thanks to his unique skillset and exceptional spiritual body. He could rival some captains in sheer speed.
Now, facing the Great Hollow horde, Kisaragi wasn't worried—he was eager.
The horde roared, soundwaves visibly rippling through the sky. The chaotic spiritual pressure pressed down like a tide of despair.
From beneath the hill, hidden within the binding Kidō barrier, the observer muttered, tension rising.
Bold? Yes. Reckless? Absolutely.
This kid, after joining the Eleventh Division, had clearly lost his mind… or maybe just absorbed the madness of the others.
He unsheathed his sword—slash!
A familiar silhouette cut clean through a Girian's skull, blood trailing behind. As he landed, the massive body collapsed to the ground.
"The spiritual authority of a high-ranking officer… The Death Sword style of Unohana… even stronger than before…"
The observer, hidden under Kidō light, frowned. Despite Kisaragi's rapid progress, he hadn't outpaced this one. In fact, the distance between them had only shrunk.
"Death Sword Flow: Oboro."
Within the crimson haze, a crescent moon rose.
Kisaragi didn't pause. Turning, he unleashed a dazzling sword technique, a lineage from the first Kenpachi, cutting through the horde with savage elegance.
Black hair flew like molten silk, slicing through skeleton masks, tearing limbs to ashes. Spiritual particles scattered into the sky.
Above the battlefield, the dark void stirred—something alive writhing within. A pair of golden eyes fixed greedily on the carnage below.
In those pupils: insatiable hunger.