- This one... What if I picked... me?
- Then... maybe she's enough.
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- Hmmn... That... was a Zanpakuto. That's elder brother's... Did something happen to him?
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/
Hollows are the terrifying, nightmarish manifestations of lost souls. Born from the spirits of deceased humans unable to find peace, these beings are the antithesis of what they once were. Driven by regret, sorrow, or intense emotional turmoil, these souls fail to pass into the afterlife and become twisted into malevolent creatures.
Each Hollow bears a haunting white mask, a grotesque visage that symbolizes the remnants of their lost humanity. Through the hollow cavity in their chests, they show the void left by their consumed heart and soul. This empty hole is a stark reminder of the life they could not leave behind and the pain that turned them into these monstrous entities.
Hollows roam the world, driven by an insatiable hunger for souls. They are predators of the spiritual realm, attacking humans and other spirits alike, devouring them in a futile attempt to fill the emptiness within. Their forms are diverse, often reflecting the despair or anger that caused their transformation, making each Hollow a unique horror.
Yet, their journey does not end there. Hollows can evolve, merging with others of their kind to become more formidable threats. The most powerful of these evolutions are the Menos, vast and terrifying entities that signify the pinnacle of Hollow might. Among them, the Vasto Lorde stand as the ultimate apex predators, rare and feared for their immense power.
Hollows are creatures of tragedy and horror, embodiments of souls that have lost their way and succumbed to darkness. They reside in the eerie realm of Hueco Mundo, a desolate landscape that mirrors their inner emptiness.
Amidst the endless sands and bleak skies, they gather, always searching, always hungry, forever bound by their cursed existence.
It is here that an anomaly is born.
/
In the desolate expanse of Hueco Mundo, where perpetual twilight shrouds the barren landscape, a subtle shift begins. A fissure tears open in the fabric of nothingness, and from it emerges a flicker of ethereal light, a soul adrift, untethered by the laws of mortal realms.
The soul, bereft of its former existence, traverses the bleak emptiness, drawn by an unseen force. It passes through realms of forgotten dreams and fleeting memories until it descends upon a patch of desolate sand. There, amidst the lifeless terrain, the soul seeps into the ground, a whisper lost in the void.
Years pass, marked only by the slow crawl of time in Hueco Mundo, where minutes feel like eternities. Beneath the surface, the essence of the soul stirs and coalesces, weaving tendrils of energy into the earth. From this fusion emerges a single bloom, a rose, crimson against the pallor of the sands, its petals unfurling like a heartbeat in the silence.
/
In the depths of Hueco Mundo, where darkness reigns supreme, a Hollow prowls. A skeletal frame adorned with jagged claws, her eyes vacant voids that yearn for the essence of others.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, the Hollow senses a disturbance, a beacon of sorrow that resonates with it's own fractured soul. Across the desolate landscape it skulks, drawn inexorably towards the pulsing heartbeat of sadness that emanates from a single rose, blooming defiantly against the bleak backdrop.
As the Hollow nears, the air crackles with anticipation. The rose, delicate and vibrant, seems to pulse with its own rhythm, a silent lament echoing through the emptiness. The Hollow extends a clawed hand, trembling with anticipation and hunger, ready to consume this unexpected bounty.
But as its claw brushes against the rose's petals, a sudden glow of radiant silver light hums from within. The Hollow recoils, shielding its eyes from the unexpected brilliance, momentarily blinded by the purity of the illumination. The light, an ethereal cascade of shimmering silver, weaves around the rose.
Confounded and cautious, the Hollow peers through the residual glow, her gaze fixed upon the radiant bloom. Her hunger momentarily forgotten, it hesitates, a primal instinct urging caution in the face of the unknown. Yet, despite its apprehension, a curious tenderness flickers within its hardened heart, a fleeting echo of the maternal love it... no she once knew.
/
Days pass, marked by the Hollow's vigil over the radiant rose. She stands sentinel, her skeletal form looming protectively over the fragile bloom, warding off any encroaching threat. Other Hollows, drawn by the unusual presence, skulk in the shadows, their malevolent eyes fixated on the lone guardian and her precious charge.
Through the endless nights of Hueco Mundo, the Hollow keeps watch—a silent protector in a realm devoid of solace. Her presence is an anomaly amidst the chaos, previously unknown among her kind.
The rose, nurtured by the essence of the soul that birthed it, begins to thrive under the Hollow's watchful gaze. Its crimson petals deepen in hue, a reflection of the sorrow that birthed its existence.
/
One fateful night, a rival Hollow dares to challenge the guardian's sovereignty over the radiant rose. Drawn by the whispers of a potential feast, a hulking behemoth of darkness descends upon the scene, a grotesque amalgamation of twisted limbs and gnashing teeth.
The guardian senses the intruder's approach, a primal growl escaping her skeletal jaws as she readies herself for battle. The challenger, driven by hunger and greed, lunges towards the rose with reckless abandon, its claws poised to rend and tear.
With a ferocious roar, the guardian intercepts the assailant, claws meeting in a clash of shadows and fury. The night erupts into chaos as the two Hollows collide—a whirlwind of savage blows and primal instincts unleashed upon the desolate sands.
The guardian fights with a raw ferocity born of maternal instinct, each strike fueled by the undying resolve to protect the fragile bloom that has become her purpose.
The challenger, undeterred by the guardian's tenacity, presses on—a relentless force driven by hunger and malice. It lashes out with frenzied strikes, each blow aimed at shattering the guardian's resolve and claiming the radiant rose for its own.
With a primal roar that echoes through the empty expanse, the guardian unleashes a devastating burst of light, an attack thought impossible for it's level of strength and yet a manifestation of the soul's evolution. The brilliance cuts through the darkness like a sword, illuminating the battlefield with its celestial radiance.
Caught off guard by the unexpected onslaught, the challenger recoils, the shadows that once cloaked its form dissipating in the face of the blinding light. The guardian seizes the opportunity, claws closing around the challenger's fractured mask, and with a final, decisive blow, she disperses the Hollow's essence into spirit particles.
Silence descends upon the battlefield, the air heavy with the residue of spent energy and lingering tension. The guardian stands amidst the remnants of the conflict, her crumbling form illuminated by the faint glow of the radiant rose. She gazes upon the bloom with a mix of pride and weariness, her skeletal visage softened by a fleeting moment of peace.
And thus, the radiant rose stands alone, a silent witness to the final moments of it's protector. The guardian, battered and weary yet resolute, releases a triumphant breath as she fades, her essence dispersing into spirit particles.
The rose, nourished by the essence of the fallen Hollow, began to change. The ground trembled, and a surge of spiritual energy pulsed through the air. The rose's petals shimmered with an otherworldly glow. As the transformation reached its peak, the rose burst into radiant light, and when the light faded, a hollow stood tall.
It stands at approximately 6 feet in a hunched posture, covered in a coarse, ash-gray exoskeleton, cracked and chipped in places, revealing sickly pale flesh underneath. It's limbs long and thin, ending in clawed hands and feet. The claws are sharp. It's head skull-like with a smooth, white mask covering its face. The mask has empty eye sockets that glow faintly silver and a small vertical crack running down the middle. The mouth is a jagged maw filled with uneven, broken teeth.
As it took its first steps in this new existence, It felt a deep connection to the world around it, an instinctual understanding of its surroundings. It knew it was different, an anomaly. With no memories to guide it, it set out to navigate the treacherous landscape of Hueco Mundo.
Its first encounter was with a pack of lesser Hollows, their grotesque forms hungrily eying it as they approached. Instinctively, it raised its clawed hand, manipulating its form like clay. In its mind devoid of all but one instinct, it sought to create a weapon with as much sheer destructive power as it could muster.
The result is a grotesque looking scythe, as if shaped by the ugly thoughts within it.
Without a moment's hesitation, it brought it down hard on the nearest hollow.
Unable to react in time, the one who had believed itself a terror was slashed to pieces and swallowed by an explosion of silver flames.
The silver eyed hollow turned to cut down the next, but it was outnumbered. Immediately, the other hollows trampled over to surround it.
Some hollows hesitated, sensing its power, but hunger drove them forward. It moved with a fluid grace, its scythe slashing through their masks with ease. Each strike was precise and deadly, saturating the air with spirit particles.
Hours pass, as even more hollows are drawn to the chaos, rushing into the fray, and into the scythe that relieved them of their existence. Dozens of hollows falling and turning into spirit particles.
A more powerful Hollow, resembling a massive serpentine beast, drawn to increasing spirit particles, attacked with overwhelming force. The silver eyed hollow leaps back, it's scythe flashing as it slahed at the newcomer.
The serpent hollow hissed and coiled around it, its massive body constricting its movements.
Its scythe bite into the serpent's thick hide, tearing away chunks of flesh, but the beast retaliated with a powerful slam, sending it crashing into the ground. The serpent reared back, preparing to strike. Despite its injuries, the silver hollow rose once more, a determined growl rumbling from its throat. It lunged at the serpent, scythe raking its eyes, blinding it temporarily. Seizing the moment, it tore into the serpent's throat, but the effort left it vulnerable.
With a final, desperate thrash, the serpent Hollow wrapped its coils around it and crushed it with a sickening crunch. The silver Hollow let out a final, pained cry before its body dissolved into spiritual particles, reminiscent of red petals.
Red?
The serpentine hollow tilted its head at the unfamiliar shade of spirit particles surrounding it. Sensing a presence above it, the serpentine hollow turns its gaze upwards, its final actions before a scythe splits it's skull in two, reaping it's soul and life force.