Hunger.
His teeth sank deep into the black leather of the being next to him. The flesh ripped as he twisted his head, yanking back as he chewed his meal. It let out a screech of pain, thrashing for a moment before collapsing to the ground.
Flesh chewed, swallowed. And then he twisted to the side and tore into another.
A careful step over the squirming downed prey and the process continued.
Only recently had he become aware of the monotony. Tasteless leathery meal after leathery meal. It wasn't filling, but he hungered. He had to eat.
Nothing filled the emptiness inside, though each bite was accompanied by a rush of power. Delicious energy suffused him as he yet again ripped into the flesh of his neighbor.
They would wail as his teeth shredded them. That was all they would do. Never fighting back, never even shuffling away from him.
They were mindless.
Unlike him.
He existed. He was more than an empty shell for all that he felt hollow. So he decimated the herd around him slowly.
This continued. Again and again.
He would kill a group and then search for more. They were all he could eat, for he was the same. Large and towering, tough skin to prevent another's teeth from puncturing flesh. Graceless and armless. It was impossible to hunt the smaller beings that would flit around their feet.
However some of the smaller ones could fly. Perhaps he could catch one?
It wasn't something he had tried before, blinded by hunger as he had been.
He continued to eat the tall ones but now his eyes watched. Eagerly tracing the paths of winged hollows, hoping for one to fly too close.
Eventually one did.
Previous prey forgotten, he lunged forward. Teeth snapped and crushed the bone covering the thing's face.
Blood gushed into his mouth, hot and delicious. Filled with that energy and power that he'd come to crave as much as their flesh. More power even than the tall, black ones.
There was too much, he realized. White light filled his vision before everything went black.
Slowly his eyes fluttered open.
Colored, shapeless masses loomed around him. Releasing a groan he squeezed his eyes shut. He reached a hand to rub at his eyes but paused.
Tentatively he traced the edge of the hard casing over his face. The surface was smooth. Cold. Holes for his eyes and a beak like protrusion where his mouth was. Fingertips trailed down to the little hook on the tip. Yes, definitely a beak.
He opened his mouth and discovered that the mask split open along with it. Of course. How else could he eat?
Breath labored, he climbed to his feet. Talons pierced the dirt below him as he kicked off the ground. Wings flapped and he took off.
Up.
He had to go up.
The talons of his hands sank into the earth above. He clawed his way into the crust as dirt gave way to sand. Soon enough he broke the surface, squirming his way out of his hole.
Collapsed onto his back, he gasped for air. A shiver raced down his spine as he stared up at the moon.
The air was thick with reishi. More so than in soul society.
He cursed. Silently at first, then out loud.
Hands sank into his hair, only to freeze. The texture was wrong and he pulled… something out of his skull.
Turning over the sample in his hand he hissed. A feather. His hair had been replaced with feathers. Hell, there were feathers coating his arms. Presumably the rest of his body as well.
Glancing down he swore at the sight of his bird legs.
His arms were wings, complete with strange hands similar to a bat's.
Kaien shook, scratching at the mask that covered his face.
He was a hollow. A fucking hollow.
He wasn't even Kaien anymore. Sure, he had the memories, the personality. The dominant soul that had won out was his but now he was more. Several thousand souls more, most likely. He was the conscious in control of the being that he was now.
"Aciano Arroyo," he muttered the name reluctantly.
A hollow's name for a heartless monster.
Claws grasped the edge of the mask, knuckles straining with the pressure. He wanted to rip it off but he just… couldn't.
Instinct, he supposed. Hollows were beings ruled by them after all. That was how he knew how to fly, how he'd been driven up to the surface through the sand like a freshly birthed animal. It was how he knew his name.
A faint roar echoed from somewhere in the desert.
There were stronger hollows up here. He knew it instinctively.
Hollows that he needed to eat.