In the Forest of the Great Void ,
The goat-headed Hollow and the strange fish-like creature stood guard at the entrance of the cave, while Ren sat inside, studying the broken fragment of Ulquiorra's mask.
For a long moment, he examined it in silence. Then, without hesitation, he opened his mouth and swallowed it whole.
At first, nothing happened. His spiritual pressure remained unchanged. But beneath the surface, something stirred—something subtle yet unmistakable.
"It works," Ren murmured, a pleased smirk forming on his lips as he sensed the shift within himself.
The Hollow hierarchy was ruthlessly rigid. Few ever managed to devour enough Gillians to evolve into Adjuchas, and even fewer made the leap to Vasto Lorde. The number of true Vasto Lordes in existence was minuscule. Many were simply born that way rather than evolving into the form.
In the entirety of the original timeline, Grimmjow was one of the only confirmed Hollows to have actively transformed into a Vasto Lorde, and even that took centuries of battle and bloodshed.
Nejibana, ever hungry for combat, fought relentlessly against stronger foes, yet he never reached the threshold. Meanwhile, Neliel, despite vanishing for years and neglecting battle altogether, remained leagues above him in power.
It wasn't a matter of effort or will—it was talent. Some Hollows simply lacked the potential to evolve further.
Swallowing Ulquiorra's mask fragment wasn't just a gamble. It was an investment.
Ren wasn't worried about his own potential, but there was no harm in stacking the odds in his favor. If consuming the mask fragment even slightly increased his chances of ascending to Vasto Lorde, then it was worth the risk.
"You break your mask to become an Arrancar… I devour it to increase my potential. In the end, we both have a bright future ahead of us."
Shin'ō Academy – Martial Arts Grounds
The training field was packed with students—all members of the sixth-year class, the final group preparing to graduate after six years at Shin'ō Academy.
Among them stood Ren.
Nearby, Matsumoto Rangiku and Hisagi Shūhei, still in their fourth year, observed from the sidelines. Ren, on the other hand, had already skipped ahead to the sixth-year curriculum. Once he completed the upcoming graduation assessment, he would officially be eligible to join the Gotei 13's Third Division.
The atmosphere was solemn. In three days, this group of students would be sent to the Human World for their final exam: a real-world Soul Burial mission.
Ren had been at Shin'ō Academy for nearly a year now.
With his abilities, he could have graduated even sooner, but the Academy required a minimum attendance of one year before allowing anyone to take the graduation exam—no matter how talented they were.
The last person to finish the Academy in record time was Ichimaru Gin.
The next evening, Ren sat in a small hot pot restaurant in the western district of Rukongai, fulfilling his promise to treat Rangiku and Shūhei to a meal.
The bubbling sukiyaki pot in front of him stirred something in his memories—an echo of another life, long past.
"You're so unfair, Ito!" Rangiku pouted, playfully jabbing her chopsticks toward him. "You said you'd graduate with us, and now you've finished six years of coursework in just one! Seriously… why do I always end up surrounded by weirdos?"
Ito smirked but said nothing.
Shūhei, however, remained silent, his mood notably somber. Something weighed on his mind.
Recent events in Soul Society had shaken the ranks of the Gotei 13.
Kisuke Urahara, the former Captain of Squad 12 and head of the Technology Development Bureau, had defected. And he hadn't left alone.
With him had vanished several prominent figures:Hirako Shinji, former Captain of Squad 5Love Aikawa, former Captain of Squad 7Kensei Muguruma, former Captain of Squad 9Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi, former Captain of Squad 3Hachigen Ushōda, former Kidō Corps LieutenantLisa Yadōmaru, former Lieutenant of Squad 8Hiyori Sarugaki, former Lieutenant of Squad 12Mashiro Kuna, former Lieutenant of Squad 9Tessai Tsukabishi, former Grand Kidō ChiefYoruichi Shihōin, former Captain of Squad 2 and head of the Shihōin ClanTheir sudden disappearance had left Soul Society in turmoil. The incident was being framed as treason, but Ito knew better.
Something much bigger was at play.
The sudden incident shook all of Soul Society to its core. A massive upheaval had taken place within the Gotei 13, reshuffling its ranks from the middle echelons all the way to the highest levels of command.
For most, this was an unprecedented disaster. But for Makoto Ito—who viewed events with the perspective of a god—everything was unfolding exactly as expected.
At the heart of it all was Aizen's Hollowfication experiments.
Even as a time traveler, Makoto Ito had to admit that Aizen and his hypnotic Zanpakutō, Kyōka Suigetsu, were truly monstrous. To manipulate all of Soul Society in the palm of his hand—turning even the most seasoned captains into his unwitting pawns—was nothing short of terrifying.
"Cheer up, Hisagi," Ito said, nudging the somber young man beside him. "I'm sure you'll meet Captain Kensei again one day."
"Really, Brother Ito?" Hisagi Shūhei looked up, eyes filled with doubt.
"Of course! But when that day comes, you better not embarrass yourself in front of him. So train hard—earn his respect!"
With a firm pat on Hisagi's head, Ito offered a reassuring smile.
The words seemed to ignite something in Hisagi. His gloom lifted, replaced with renewed determination. "You're right! I'll work harder!"
Wasting no time, he grabbed his chopsticks, plucked a piece of steaming-hot beef from the sukiyaki pot, blew on it briefly, then stuffed it into his mouth.
"H-Hot!" he gasped, fanning his tongue.
"Hey! That was my piece!" Rangiku protested, puffing her cheeks.
As the three bickered over their meal, laughter filled the small restaurant.
But then—
Ito's expression changed.
Without another word, he stood up, grabbed a plate of persimmon cakes from the table, and walked outside.
The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of Rukongai's evening bustle.
"I heard from Rangiku that you love persimmon cakes," Ito said, holding out the plate. "Care for one?"
As if summoned by the words, a figure materialized from the shadows—clad in a captain's haori, silver-haired and fox-like smile ever-present.
Ichimaru Gin.
"Oh? You noticed me again?" Gin chuckled, his eyes narrowing. "Your spiritual sense really is something else."
Taking the plate from Ito's hands, Gin plucked a persimmon cake and, without another word, disappeared into the night.
Ito sighed. "Wait—why'd you take the whole plate? I paid for that!"
A second later, Gin reappeared—this time handing back the now-empty plate.
"Unbelievable," Ito muttered. Then, glancing at the captain, he offered, "You know, you could come inside and eat with us. Or… are you not going to see her?"
Gin froze.
For the briefest moment, his expression faltered. But then, just as quickly, his usual grin returned. Without a word, he vanished again.
As he disappeared into the darkness, his voice echoed faintly in Ito's ears:
"No need. But thanks for the persimmon cake. Be careful during your Soul Burial assessment."
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