"What is that?" Harribel froze, her gaze locked on the writhing creature embedded in the tree trunk, struggling as if alive.
Even as a Vasto Lorde who'd lived centuries in Hueco Mundo, she'd never seen a lesser Hollow without a mask, moving autonomously.
Makoto, scrutinizing the creature, sensed something amiss. His earlier playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a grim frown.
Less an "insect." it resembled an "eyeball."
Was this the only one? Or were they scattered everywhere?
The thought alone deepened his scowl.
Sōsuke was still a child. Who in Hueco Mundo could deploy such surveillance devices?
Baraggan? Laughable. That stagnant king hadn't altered Hueco Mundo in millennia, obsessing only over recruiting strong subordinates. If he had such ambition, the desert would be an oasis by now.
Another unknown Vasto Lorde? An unexplored side story from the manga? A neglected background detail?
Makoto's mind churned with uncertainty.
His presence, a massive variable, had altered the three worlds in ways even he couldn't predict. Could his immense reiatsu have triggered a "balance," spawning a monster to rival him?
No one could say.
"Makoto-kun." Katori's voice cut through his thoughts.
Turning, he saw her on tiptoes, peering into the tree's hollow where the eyeball had been extracted. "Come look. What are these glowing things inside?"
Makoto leaned in.
Inside the pale giant tree, faint cyan veins pulsed, extending downward from the eyeball's socket like tracks, threading through the trunk to its roots.
They resembled circuits.
"Harribel?" Makoto called, brow furrowing tighter.
"Makoto-sama, I've never seen this either." Harribel replied. After a pause, wary of seeming dismissive, she added, "In Hueco Mundo, many creatures siphon minute amounts of reiatsu due to the constant struggle for it. But the oddity is… no mask. It feels artificial."
Makoto nodded. He'd sensed a sliver of his reiatsu being siphoned, prompting him to yank it out.
His gaze drifted to the glowing tracks in the trunk, a realization dawning.
Under Katori and Harribel's puzzled stares, he placed the wriggling eyeball back into its socket.
The moment its limbs touched the track, they snapped into place with a sharp click.
Without hesitation, Makoto unleashed a torrent of reiatsu from his palm.
Hum!
The air quaked.
Katori and Harribel felt the ground tremble under the terrifying reiatsu. Harribel, newly ascended to Vasto Lorde, felt her throat constrict, her breathing labored.
The white desert beneath them groaned, micro-Hollows crushed into imperceptible dust by the shifting reiatsu.
Harribel, sensing the display, bowed respectfully, her gaze on Makoto softening with awe. Even as a Vasto Lorde, the gap between us is vast. This is… the pinnacle of the three worlds.
For Hollows, Vasto Lorde was the unattainable peak, the end of evolution. At that level, Hueco Mundo itself seemed trivial.
Yet, Makoto was untouchable.
A quiet sigh stirred in her heart.
Makoto, oblivious to her thoughts, focused on the eyeball.
As expected, the moment he released his reiatsu, the eyeball absorbed it like a sponge, its surface igniting. The tracks below glowed, extending deeper into the tree's roots.
As he increased his reiatsu output, the eyeball's light intensified, from a firefly's flicker to a bulb's glare, then a searing red as its bone-like shell overheated.
Finally, it blazed as an indescribable orb of light, the tracks below a molten crimson.
Beep! Beep! Beep…!
Far beyond their perception, deep within the Forest of Menos, countless identical eyeballs in pale giant trees whirred to life, their centers emitting low alarms.
After a pause, they swiveled toward the source of the massive reiatsu flow.
Boom!
A muffled explosion erupted beneath the tree's roots.
The ground bucked like a taut water balloon, white dust billowing skyward, surrounding trees collapsing under the shockwave.
In that instant, the trio's sharp senses locked onto something underground.
Makoto's reckless reiatsu surge had funneled through the eyeball, channeling a massive flow to another location. Even through the thick earth, they felt its direction.
Harribel's eyes snapped to Makoto. Was this his plan all along?
Unlike Harribel's reserved awe, Katori was unabashed. "As expected of Makoto! Found the target in one go!"
Adjusting her glasses, she beamed, as if eager to wrap up and head home for dinner.
"Not so fast." Makoto said, his gaze shifting to the distance with a subtle edge. "I don't know what this is, but… I might've triggered something big."
"Hm?" Katori followed his line of sight. "That's Ryoma's squad, right?"
"Hollows?" She asked.
"No. Not Hollows." Harribel said, her voice tight with urgency.
...
On the other side, Ryoma's squad.
With the Adjuchas dispatched, the Gillian herds they'd summoned scattered swiftly.
Though mindless, driven only by hunger, Gillians retained an instinct to flee danger.
"Sōsuke!" Ryoma's bear-like hand ruffled Sōsuke's head before the boy could react.
Inspecting him for injuries and finding none, Ryoma grinned. "Not bad, kid! Facing Adjuchas without a scratch. Worthy of Makoto-sama's disciple!"
"Yoshi, yoshi!"
His patronizing tone earned a sidelong glance from Sōsuke, who stepped aside, escaping the hand. Crouching to collect Hollow reishi samples for battle records and experiments, he retorted, "If Vice-Captain Kuruyashiki's at a loss for tasks, ask Jūshirō. I'm quite busy."
As he spoke, Sōsuke subtly nodded to their comrades, all diligently gathering battlefield materials.
Adjuchas reishi was prized for research, and their advance team's duties extended beyond combat.
In a way, Ryoma embodied Captain Makoto's tradition: slack when possible.
Sōsuke's gaze flicked to the burly man, laced with subtle judgment.
"Don't say that!" Ryoma whispered, leaning in. "Help me out, or I'll look like the only one slacking!"
A master of workplace evasion.
Wasn't that the truth?
Sōsuke met his plea with a pure, piercing stare, shattering Ryoma's bravado in seconds. The vice-captain turned away, sheepish.
What choice did he have? His battlefield collection assessments always required First Division retests. Helping would only cause chaos.
For everyone's sake, he justified his idleness with conviction.
"If Vice-Captain Kuruyashiki has time, he could keep watch from above." Sōsuke said calmly, securing mask fragments in a collection box. "Since earlier, the micro-Hollows underfoot have been rioting, and nearby lesser Hollow reiatsu has dwindled. Something's coming. Preparation might help."
Ryoma blinked, glancing down.
The pale, sand-like micro-Hollows, near-microscopic, trembled visibly, scattering chaotically. The distant pale forest was eerily silent.
His face hardened. Drawing his Zanpakuto, he extended his senses.
As the squad worked, a jolt of danger coursed through them, their bodies tensing as they looked toward the distance.
Sōsuke paused, frowning westward. Underground?
Thud.
A drum-like boom echoed in their ears.
Thud, thud, thud…
Slow and heavy at first, then rhythmic, the low-frequency pulses sent a shiver through the squad.
Something immense was stirring below.
They froze, staring toward the sound and reiatsu.
Rumble…
A colossal arm, like a heavenly pillar, burst through the white sand, clawing upward from the depths, trailing a reverse torrent.
Its wrist alone, pressing the ground, shook the earth beneath them.
Trembling, quaking.
A shadow climbed from the abyss, revealing a mountain-like figure buried beneath the desert.
The sand swirled like a current, drawn into the pit below the entity.
Finally, it emerged fully.
Sprawled like a turtle, its dozens of arms propped up the fragile ground. Rising, its head nearly grazed the subterranean ceiling, deepening the already dim sky.
Even the largest Gillians were mere fractions of its arm's size.
Ryoma gaped upward. "This… a Hollow?"
He wasn't alone. The squad shared the same absurd thought.
Only Sōsuke furrowed his brow.
An Adjuchas dwarfing Gillians by magnitudes…
He'd read something like this before.
His gaze settled on the creature's "arms." Each joint bore distinct bone masks.
Though uniformly colored, the limbs seemed stitched together from countless Adjuchas, crude yet violently elegant.
"What is this monster?" Sōsuke murmured.
…
At that moment, deep in an underground nest, closed eyes snapped open.
"This reiatsu?" Szayelaporro's low voice rasped, his face splitting into a feral grin. "You've come, Chōjirō Sasakibe."
"Savor it, my latest creation."
"Frankenstein!"
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Hi guys, Elenea here! I just want to announce that starting now I'll be trying to focus on my own original fanfic, which I've been thinking about for the past few days (lol I really mulled this over briefly for a few days and decided I'm going to make it a full novel).
[Worse Than the Devil (DxD)]
Synopsis:
Devil.
An evil and chaotic creature, born from hell, which are often a scapegoat for humans. Blamed for the atrocities they themselves commit.
"The devil made me do it."
A phrase always uttered by humans after committing crimes, casting blame and responsibility for their wrongdoings onto the devil.
But not all humans are like that, for there is one man who would gleefully commit atrocities that would be condemned by all of human history and accept the blame and responsibility for those wrongs with open arms.
His name is Michael, but in stark contrast to the meaning of his name 'Who is like God' he is not a devout man who draws near to God's embrace. Instead… he is the one who sends lost sheep to meet God's embrace much faster.
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Btw, a quick note before you decide to read, if you have a heart as pure as glass, I suggest you don't read this because it REALLY gets dark to early. The first chapter will give you a little idea of what I might explore later on in this fanservice harem-themed world like DxD.
Adios!
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