| abstract
| - The Forest of Menos. It was a dangerous place. A place dwarfed with trees tainted with the foul spiritual energy of the Hollow that had become its permanent residents. It was here that conflict of Hollow was at its ultimate stage. There was no order here, nor was there any structure. In all honesty, all that was here was simply…chaos? Was it really the word to describe such a monstrosity? Or would anarchy be a better term? Regardless, the humanoid figure that stood in the middle of these gargantuan bestial creatures had not cared at all for a differentiation in opinion. The man – or rather – child, took out a small book that he had kept in his tattered pocket. Opening the book and unveiling its contents, a devilish smile had conjured upon his face. A malicious voice had opened its way into the very miniscule minds of the hollow around it, “Did you things know that there is something called civilization in the worlds beyond this one? Did you also know that civilizations were attempted to be created here by those same individuals?” The child closed his book and turned around. From what could be seen; there was a head of messy brown hair, closed eyes and luminescent skin. Tattered clothes were what adorned this “fragile” body. They only consisted of a light blue shirt, and a darker pair of pants. An unusual dagger sat at the boy’s waist, and he held his dark emerald covered paperback in his right hand. “Utakata, are you here? I require a bit of assistance.” The boy called out to what appeared to be his subordinate. His voice kept a regal demeanour that horrified the Hollow around him. A head of black hair, blood-stained black eyes and a statuesque figure opened from a spiralling black vortex. As he leaped to the ground, his hands lightly touched the ground, and the position of his knees showed that he was bowing. “Yes sir?” “As you know, Hueco Mundo is now ripe territory for the taking. The Espada are significantly weakened, and there is no ruling force here except for those few remnants of the Vandenreich that will eventually flock under my wing. Thus, I expect you to go and renaissance for the next week about significant spiritual activity within the realm. Report back all notable findings, and don’t get into trouble, I have other tasks to hand out as well.” Without a single word, the man dubbed “Utakata” had already used a very familiar form of high-speed movement to evacuate from the area. The brief flicker he had left had confirmed it. The man previously was a shinigami. But what was a shinigami doing in their enemy’s territory, under a child no less? “Hehe. Now, I shall take care of some…other business.” Looking behind him, the child noticed an unusual spiritual power had been emitted. It was dark, eerie, but condensed. He had laughed very exuberantly, unusual considering his previous actions and welcomed the other entity. “Well, well. What have we got here? Haven’t seen one of your kinds in…oh about five centuries? Not ever since the tyrannical rule of Baraggan Louisenbarn in any case.” “So, I’m a surprise to you? An anomaly in your plans perhaps? Mr Santiago Jujol…” The figure had stated, its hollow eyes peering at the boy – now known as Santiago – and awaited his response. “You overestimate yourself, Ezequiel…Silvester.” Santiago retorted without very much emotion in his voice. This didn’t bother the figure, who had completely revealed himself after Santiago’s response. He appeared to be a white-haired, almost humane figure really. Aside from the amount of inscriptions, blood and hollow eyes that he possessed, anybody could mistake him as a young man. He even wore "clothing" so-to-speak, which he stole from his mortal enemies - the shinigami - a long time ago. “So you do remember me? Does this mean that you haven’t forgotten your pack?” Ezequiel wondered, whilst he looked at some of the Hollow that were stationed and watching their conversation. “Pack? Could you take your wolf analogy somewhere else? I am not interested in such nonsense.” Santiago responded, rather bluntly. Confused, Ezequiel posed another question, “But weren’t you the one who just said us hollows engage in chaos?” “Then you must be a fool.” Santiago decisively stated. “Wolves are very orderly creatures. They have structure, a hierarchy you could call it. We do not believe in such things. As a race we thrive upon conflict induced by our gluttony. Don’t you remember this lecture from a century ago?” Amused by Santiago’s response, and sarcastically responded, “Oh, but even us long-lived beings have faltered memories. Would you not agree?” Santiago played along with his former comrade’s topic, “Or it could mean you lack the fundamental intelligence to recollect such memories?” “I’d rather not think that be the case.” The Vasto Lorde responded, grinning at this opportunity. Next Chapter
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