Cero—the only technique Hiro had fully mastered using his Reiatsu.
Unlike the Quincy, who manipulate spiritual particles with precision, or the Shinigami, who are trained in refined techniques through the Shinō Academy, the denizens of Hueco Mundo have no structured schools, no formal combat systems. Their methods are born out of primal necessity—honed in constant battle, trial by survival.
As a result, their fighting styles are crude and instinct-driven.
Cero is a natural product of that evolution—an ability learned instinctively upon becoming a Menos Grande. And though common, its sheer destructive power can't be denied.
As a Hollow's level increases, so too does its Reiatsu. The stronger their spirit energy, the more devastating their Cero. It becomes a beam of condensed spiritual pressure, obliterating everything in its path. With such a wide radius, accuracy barely matters—everything caught in its wake is annihilated.
As a Vasto Lorde, Neliel Tu Odelschwanck possessed an immensely powerful Cero. Even a captain-class Shinigami would have to treat it seriously.
But when the smoke and dust cleared… Tsunayashiro Tokinada was still standing.
The forest lay in shambles, white sands scorched, trees reduced to ash. Yet amid it all, a pulsing crimson light enveloped Tokinada's body. Blood-colored, thick as fog—it glowed unnaturally.
From within that glow, he emerged, untouched.
Then the blood-red energy recoiled and shrank, as though alive, wrapping itself back into his body.
He smiled coldly. "That was strong. If your Cero had been any stronger, I might've actually died."
"But you didn't."
With a slash of his cursed Zanpakutō, he lunged at Neliel.
He wasn't intimidated by her status as a Vasto Lorde.
He'd never cared for hierarchy—if he had, he wouldn't have turned his blade on the Tsunayashiro family when they sought to sacrifice him. His current bid for kingship wasn't born from long-term planning. It was an impulse. Why couldn't he be king of Hueco Mundo? There was already a king—Baraggan—but that simply meant the throne existed. So he would take it.
And Neliel, who dared to reject him, would die for it.
Neliel fought back fiercely. Though Tokinada was powerful, dealing with a Vasto Lorde wasn't so simple.
But his Zanpakutō was unnatural.
During their clash, phantom-like apparitions emerged from the lingering blood mist around his blade—wraiths that clawed and lunged, disrupting her every movement. They weren't real Hollows, but spiritual projections born from his Zanpakutō's sinister ability.
Surrounded and overwhelmed, Neliel found herself outnumbered by shadows.
Just as Tokinada moved in for the kill—
He paused.
He sensed something—turned sharply.
A new figure approached: draped in animal pelts, face obscured by a white Hollow mask.
Tsunayashiro Tokinada lowered his sword. A strange grin formed.
Because in the stranger's hand… was a Zanpakutō.
"You're… a Shinigami?" Tokinada asked.
The masked figure, upon seeing Tokinada, seemed surprised and hopeful. "Which division are you from?"
To ease the tension, he removed his mask—revealing a youthful, handsome face. He wasn't a Hollow at all. He was, unmistakably, a Shinigami.
Tsunayashiro Tokinada raised an eyebrow.
A Shinigami, here in the Forest of Menos?
And from his words—it was clear. He knew nothing about Soul Society's current affairs. A relic left behind.
"You're not Gotei 13, are you?" the newcomer asked again.
Tokinada laughed. "No. According to Soul Society, I'm a sinner."
That word—sinner—struck the stranger deeply.
Tokinada pressed further. "You've clearly been here for a long time. Let me guess—you were one of the Shinigami exiled to Hueco Mundo in the past?"
"If so, then we're alike. Both outcasts. Why not join forces?"
He extended his proposition with smooth conviction.
"Let's conquer Hueco Mundo together. And once I'm king, we strike back at Soul Society. After we take it, who will remember our sins?"
"Just like the ancestors of the Great Noble Houses. Who remembers their crimes?"
The stranger frowned. The rhetoric was seductive—but his heart resisted.
"You're a traitor," he said.
Tokinada smiled wider. "And if I am?"
"Then I can't let you leave."
Though he didn't know the full extent of Tokinada's crimes, he could hear the ambition behind his words—and the threat. He may have been lost to Soul Society, but he hadn't betrayed it. Letting this man live would doom everything.
"…Interesting," Tokinada muttered.
And so, the two clashed.
Steel rang out across the desolate forest. The mysterious Shinigami was skilled—his blade work precise and elegant. A style long lost to time.
But he was still a step behind.
Tokinada's blade, corrupted by his Zanpakutō's cursed power, twisted the rules. The Shinigami faltered.
Defeat approached quickly.
Just as Tokinada prepared the final blow—
A blast of energy hit him from the side.
He staggered, just enough for the injured Shinigami to roll free.
Neliel had returned.
She lunged into battle once more, her eyes fierce, her resolve unshaken.
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