A solemn day it was. The clouds were at their darkest, and thunder was roaring at the ones who passed by. Hueco Mundo seemed to be having it's usual dark days. In the midst of this pandemonium was a raven-haired man with crimson-red eyes, and a lean figure. Clad in the darkest of clothes, he stood out among even the dark night. As his eyes wandered through the endless desert, he was truly focused on one goal. Death's Hand. It was here that he wished to reside and be accepted in. And for that, he had to find his first obstacle. But where would it be? Nobody had ever known.