Just as Makoto Ito raised his hand and whispered something, a sudden roar shattered the silence, his expression darkening instantly.
"Another one?"
Feeling the chaotic and violent surge of spiritual pressure, Makoto Ito and his two companions exchanged solemn glances.
"Why have Hollows been appearing so frequently in Rukongai lately?" Yumichika Ayasegawa muttered, sensing the disturbance. The oppressive energy gnawed at his nerves, a stark contrast to the familiar street scenes around him. If not for these surroundings, he might have believed he had somehow wandered into Hueco Mundo.
Makoto Ito, too, was unsettled. What truly shocked him was the intensity of the spiritual pressure—this was no ordinary Hollow. It was on the level of an Adjuchas. Yet, there had been no sign of a Garganta opening.
That meant only one thing: just like the ones that had recently appeared in District 57, this Hollow had not come from Hueco Mundo. It had been born right here in the Soul Society.
"An Adjuchas... born in the Soul Society? Impossible!"
The evolution of a Hollow to the level of a Gillian required the devouring of over a hundred other Hollows. To reach Adjuchas, that same Gillian had to consume hundreds more of its kind with relentless hunger and intelligence. This was why Adjuchas were so rare, even in Hueco Mundo.
Of course, there were exceptions—monstrous anomalies like Ren , who defied the natural order.
But for an Adjuchas-level Hollow to form in the Soul Society? That would mean tens of thousands of Rukongai residents had been devoured, an event so catastrophic that even the slowest of the Thirteen Court Guard Squads would have noticed.
Makoto Ito refused to believe it.
Without hesitation, the three of them dashed toward the source of the spiritual pressure.
They arrived in a devastated street, buildings reduced to rubble, the air thick with residual energy. Then, they saw it.
Makoto Ito froze in place, eyes widening in disbelief.
The creature before them resembled a Gillian—one of the most primitive Menos Grande. But something was off.
Its form was drastically reduced, standing at barely five meters tall instead of the towering 100-meter stature typical of its kind. Half of its mask, once a featureless, clown-like visage, had crumbled away, revealing a grotesquely darkened, spike-covered face.
The Hollow's spiritual pressure barely reached the level of an Adjuchas.
"Is this... an Arrancar?" Makoto Ito whispered, realization dawning upon him.
It all made sense now.
This creature wasn't a naturally evolved Adjuchas. It was a Gillian forcibly modified through a crude, premature version of the Arrancar transformation. Aizen had likely created this abomination using souls harvested from Rukongai—over a hundred human souls condensed into a single monstrous form, then forcibly broken.
The result? A Hollow with Adjuchas-level spiritual pressure but none of the intelligence or refinement.
An incomplete Arrancar. A false evolution.
Makoto Ito's instincts told him not to act.
This had Aizen's fingerprints all over it. There was a good chance the man himself was observing from the shadows, assessing the outcome of his experiment. If Makoto revealed too much of his own strength now, he risked drawing unwanted attention.
Aizen might not consider him a threat yet, but it was always better to remain cautious. Until his clone had reached the strength of a seasoned captain, he had no desire to enter Aizen's line of sight.
Besides, taking down this pseudo-Arrancar was well within Yumichika Ayasegawa and the other's capabilities.
"Bloom, Vine Peacock!"
Yumichika Ayasegawa wasted no time, releasing his Zanpakutō. The vines of his Shikai erupted forth, wrapping around him in a vibrant, fluid motion as he stepped forward to engage.
He scoffed at the creature before him. "Gillian were already ugly enough, but you? You're even worse. How can something be this hideous? You completely offend my aesthetic sensibilities!"
The machete Vine Peacock transformed into four blades, and Ikkaku Madarame sneered in disgust as he slashed at the head of the pseudo-Arrancar.
"Stretch, Hōzukimaru!"
Yumichika Ayasegawa also released his Zanpakutō again, a grim smile curling across his lips as he aimed an attack at the creature's legs.
Against the combined assault of two formidable lieutenants, the pseudo-Arrancar stood no chance. Ikkaku's blade carved deep into its neck, while Yumichika's attack severed its legs completely.
"Roar!"
The creature howled in pain, one hand clutching the gaping wound on its throat while the nails on its other hand grew at an alarming rate, resembling five razor-sharp daggers lunging toward them. But the attack was clumsy—neither Ikkaku nor Yumichika even needed to dodge.
Unable to stand, the creature flailed helplessly, its fury echoing through the ruined street.
"Roar!"
With one final desperate act, it opened its mouth, gathering energy for a black-and-red Cero. But Ikkaku wasn't about to let it fire. He hurled Hōzukimaru, the spinning blade slicing cleanly through the creature's already-weakened neck.
The pseudo-Arrancar collapsed, lifeless.
Moments later, its body crumbled into dust, dissipating into the air of the Soul Society.
"Tch, that's it?" Ikkaku scoffed, watching the remains vanish with disdain.
Then, he turned toward Makoto Ito. "Oi, Makoto! C'mon, let's go for another round!"
Makoto could see the lingering hunger for battle in Ikkaku's eyes, but he simply shook his head and sheathed his sword.
"Next time, Senior Ikkaku."
The sudden fight against the pseudo-Arrancar had sapped his interest in another sparring match.
Just as Ikkaku was about to protest, Yumichika stepped in.
"Enough, Ikkaku. There have been too many Hollow appearances in Rukongai lately, and that thing only had half a mask left. Something about it feels off. We should report back to the captain."
Grumbling, Ikkaku relented. "Fine, fine."
With that, the group departed.
The moment they were gone, a faint shimmer flickered across the ruined street. A cloaking barrier lifted, revealing a lone figure standing in the shadows.
Dark-skinned, dreadlocked, dressed in the standard Shinigami uniform—Tōsen Kaname had been watching all along.
—
Squad 11 Barracks
Ayasegawa stood before his captain, a burly man clad in the sleeveless captain's haori, an eyepatch covering one eye, his wild hair adorned with small bells. None other than Kenpachi Zaraki.
"So, you're saying this Makoto Ito has potential? That he could fight evenly with Ikkaku without even releasing his Zanpakutō?" Zaraki asked, his voice tinged with intrigue.
"Yes, exactly!" Ikkaku added enthusiastically, clearly impressed.
Yumichika, however, was less excited. "Captain, should we report this incident? That pseudo-Arrancar only had half a mask. That's not normal."
Zaraki dismissed the concern with a scoff. "Hmph, it's just another Hollow. No big deal. The Ninth Division usually handles these things. Go tell Kensei Muguruma. That's all."
"Understood, Captain."
—
Somewhere in a dense forest in Rukongai – Nightfall
"Lord Aizen, the spiritual pressure of the test subject increased significantly, nearly reaching the level of an Adjuchas."
"However, it still did not regain any intelligence."
"Unfortunately, it was eliminated by the Third and Fifth Seats of Squad 11 before further observation could be conducted."
Aizen stood with his hands behind his back, listening calmly as Tōsen Kaname delivered his report. A faint smile graced his lips as he turned slightly toward his loyal subordinate.
"It was only a low-level Gillian. No matter."
With a subtle push of his glasses, his demeanor remained utterly unshaken, as if nothing in the world could ever disturb him.
"Yes. Shall I proceed with the next phase?"
Aizen's eyes glimmered with quiet calculation. "You will need to refine your Bankai mastery soon. The next stage of the plan requires it."
Tōsen bowed. "Yes, Lord Aizen…"
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