To those that liked my old story version better than the current one. I have no intention to take the old one down and it will continue to be found on my account, just as I have no intention to stop writing the current one.

While that is so I ask of those who do not like my new version, that they keep their comments to themselves as long as the critics are not in any way helpful in improving my writing style and current story.

For those of you who wrote me comments with my best interest in mind, I thank you very much for your comments and hope to use them to improve myself.

Taken care of that, are any of you betas? Is anyone willing to look over my story, correct it and if you so believe help me improve it? I do not believe myself to be pefect and am not against changes (as long as they are not too massive).

If any of you could find the time I would be most grateful,

Yours truly

XiaoWing

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Chapter 2

The Summoning

It had been 150 years since his imprisonment, or like some, mostly his 'minions' liked to call it, his 'ascension to the throne'.

Now some would believe that hell is a very exciting and chaotic place. Ichigo regretted to have ever been able to disproved said notion.

Not only did he have tonnes of paperwork, which still appeared and disappeared without him being none the wiser from where it came and went at the end, he also didn't have anything else to do.

Hell was pretty much self governing. The guardians did their jobs without him needing to give them orders and the sinners once captured by the gates of hell, which also worked on its own, where always delievered to their rightful place and tortured by said guardians or environment.

The only excitement that Ichigo ever saw, was when one of the sinners tried to escape, which happened few and far between if not at all. This event had happened such an overwhelming number of times that he could count it one hand, namely it had happened exactly 2 times, one of which had been the event that had caused his 'ascension to the throne'.

So if one was to summarise all his actions since his imprisonment, all he had done, was paperwork, for seemingly nonexisting superiors, training with his 'minions' and reading the books in the neverending library, because truly he hadn't found any end till now.

Now don't get him wrong, he had nothing against peace and quite once in a while, but too much was too much, especially when it was a century and a half years of nothing else.

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This at least was the status quo of last week, and the thousands of weeks before that one.

Now this week had been different, not in the good way, but different.

Someone had tried to summon him!

It had been quiet a shock the first time he felt the pull, a pull that led him toward the gates of hell and beyond.

Still the pull felt weak and foul as if something had diluted and defiled it. He did not know why, but he did not trust the pull, did not want to follow it.

He looked inside himself, searching the knowledge that hell had left inside of him and found his answer.

The person - no - the being that had tried to summon him was a sinner. The intention toward the power he would receive upon Ichigo's arrival were anything but pure. Now normally, Ichigo would have just followed the pull anyway and beaten the bad intentions out of his summoner.

That was if it weren't for the smell, the stink that permeated the very air around Ichigo every time the summoner called for him. The nearer Ichigo came, the nearer he got to the summoner, the stronger the stench got. It was almost unbearable.

Still, Ichigo had decided to followed the pull to its destination once and regretted it ever since. If the smell hadn't disabused him of ever letting himself be summoned by this being, than its looks certainly did.

This creature, because seriously, Ichigo refused to see him as anything but, looked as far as human possible.

The summoner had ashen skin with blue veins streaking under it, dark sunken eyes and two slits where the nose should have been. He looked like a snake, a humanoid one, which was disgusting on a whole different level.

All in all the summoner looked and smelled disgusting.

Ichigo despised him on first sight.

Now Ichigo knew of other species and did not judge them for their different appearances, but he was very certain that this creature before him had been human once and had given that up for something else, power most likely.

He would never repect or follow a summoner who forsake his humanity in the quest of power, even if that meant giving up his chance to leave hell.

Coming back from his memories Ichigo noticed the pull once again. The summoner did not seem to give up anytime soon. The pull, followed by the almost tangible ill intention coming off of the summoner in waves upon waves as well as the the rotten smell that seemed to accompany it, gave him a migraines.

Those migraines, combined with the foul stench that came into existence every time the pull came, did not help his mood at all, which meant that his wish to burn the summoner into a pile of ash only strengthened.

If that wasn't enough, than the taste that the foul stench left behind certainly did, because said taste left a literal impression of said summoner's crimes behind. Not only did the summoner torture and kill, something that would bring him to his doorstep one way or another at the end, but he had also ripped his soul appart, an act so foul and loathsome that only the most insane would ever think to try.

For the summoner it was probably an act of deviance to death, a stepping stone to reach immortality, for Ichigo it was anything but. He had ripped his soul appart leaving it to fall to dust and destroying his only chance to be reborn. He had destroyed his souls immortality, made it mortal, made it vulnerable and incomplete. He would never be part of the cycle of rebirth ever again.

Yes the body would not die due to normal means, so in a certain way the summoner had reached his goal, immortality, but at the same time he had destoryed it as well. For the body was only a vessel, a container for the soul, to protect and strengthen it so that it may be ready for the cycle of life and death.

The body would die, for nothing earthly would ever last forever, but the soul, the essence would live on and one day be reborn.

The summoners soul had lost that right, a right that every soul carried since existence. Once his body died, his soul would turn to dust and dissolve, never to be seen again.

It saddened him to see a soul, something that should have been pure and bright, to become nothing but a shell of what it used to be. The soul, ripped into pieces, cracks running all over it and the scream of damnation, oblivion, in its soundless voice, was anything but a pleasant sight.

Humanities search for immortality had always only achieved grief and pain, but this sadly did not stop them for searching for it. This one was just one of many madmen who lost all in his search for something that had always been his birthright, but now was lost to him, like everything else and he just hadn't realized it quiet yet.

Which somehow reminded him of his own predicament. After he had reached completion, his soul becoming whole and merging with his body at the same time, he had lost so much it hurt. In every sense of word he had become immortal.

He could not age or die, felt no hunger or thirst, was never tired. The world around him looked brighter, as if he had been blind before, but he cursed his new senses, his old memories almost surreal in the face of his new view.

At first he had struggled against completion, did not want to lose all that mattered to him, but now he knew why all living creatures sought it. Now that he had reached it, he would not be able to live without. There was a certain sense of rightness that he only felt now that he had reached a higher plane of existence.

He felt whole and only now did he see that he had been broken before.

So he also couldn't understand someone who would want to shatter his already broken soul beyond its already shattered state.

He sighted, gave a sad prayer for the damned soul of the sinner and concentrated on getting the stench out of his dimension again, when the pull returned.

Ichigo got the feeling that this man would never get a clue, even if he tried till he was old and grey, but considering that he was already bald and his body would never age he would probably try till the end of time. Ichigo seriously considered burning him right then and there.

The pull increased, but the stench did not worsen.

Was this someone else? It must be since ill intentions did not just disappear overnight.

He followed the pull, let himself be pulled toward that summoner through the spell that carried him through space and time.

Before he arrived he made himself invisible, so he would be able to probably analyze the summoner and decide if he sould show himself or not, just like he had done with snake-face.

Seconds later he found himself in what looked like the basement of an old castle that hadn't been used in a long, long time. The cobweb spoke history,namely the history of atrophy.

When he spotted his new summoner he wanted to break down laughing. He looked like a Merlin wannabe, with a long downright ridiculous dress and a beard every bit as long and downright ridiculous, not to mention how his companions looked.

He reminded him of gramps Yamamoto, if it weren't for the eyes he possessed. The old man before him had such interesting eyes, they twinkled and in their depth one could seev knowledge, but also curiosity.

That was all he needed to make a decision, well that and that he didn't look or smell like snake-face.

"Why did you summon me old mage?" His voice sounded distorted, a voice that resounded through the basement, sounding like thousands of people joined their voices in one.

The group of wannabe wizards flinched, their gaze passing over the room, searching for the source of his voice.

The only exception was the old man, which gained him a bit of Ichigo's respect, not many people were able to show not even a sign of being scared at the odd voice his Hollow had once used.

Their gaze still passing over the room the old man was the first to answer.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. I summoned you to ask you for your help!"

Ichigo bited his lips. This man truly was a wizard which meant the others were as well. They weren't wizard wannabes, they were actual wizards and that also seemed to mean that wizards did not have any fashion sense what so ever.

"What problem do you have that you as a headmaster for a children's school are not capable enough to solve yourself? What help would you need from me?"

The old man smiled, while the others started to pull themselves together. This creature they had summoned seemed to be at least curious enough to listen to them.

"We're at war with an evil wizard. He should have been dead, but somehow managed to survive and is now looking for revenge. He is specifically targeting three of our students, one of which is prophesied to defeat him. His name is Harry Potter. I / We hoped that you could protect this school and its students so that no one comes to harm."

Ichigo almost smiled. He was summoned so that he could protect students. The wizards had summoned the king of hell himself so that he could protect children. Who came up with such ridiculous notion that the king of hell was the best choice of protection? he was about to voice his opinion when he felt the pull with its foul stench again.

He didn't even notice when he started to mutter irritated:

"Hasn't he learned by now, that he can't summon me?! His ill intentions make his pull as alluring as garbage dump!"

"Someone else had tried to summon you?" A voice in front of him asked curiously, It had been one of the old man's companions.

"Yes, a man going by the name Voldemort has tried and tried again to summon me with little success."

The gasps and sudden whispering among the group made it quite obvious that Voldemort was known.

"Do you know him?"

Ichigo was curious, but waited. He would probably get his answer soon enough and he was right.

It wasn't long before Dumbledore had silenced the others and started to speak again:

"Of course we know him. He is the dark wizard that has been endangering my school and students."

Ichigo had a sudden idea. This idea if successful would lessen his boredom and fulfil this old mans request. It would kill two birds with one stone.

"I will help you with your problem and Voldemort…"

The wizards' eyes widened and the looked almost ready to cheer.

"…on one condition."

At which the smiles quickly fell again.

"What is that condition?" Dumbledore asked before the others could utter any protests. Ichigo smiled, and truthfully answered:

"I have been plagued by boredom for some time and believe that this could be most entertaining. It would also kill two birds with one stone so to speak. I will enter your school as a student. This will entertain me and enable me to watch over the children at the same time."

Just looking at the faces of the wizards, he already knew it would be most entertaining

He looked forward to this school year.