[Hollowed Heart]
Life wasn't easy for him. But then again, it wasn't easy for anyone. The endless hardships, the constant battles, the quiet suffering—these were the unspoken truths of existence. Yet his life wasn't a tale of simple misfortunes. No, his suffering was something else entirely, carved from a darker mold.
In the dim, forgotten alleyways of Karakura City, a boy lay slumped against a cracked brick wall. His body, battered and bruised, was barely able to move. Blood pooled beneath him, staining the ground like ink spreading on parchment. His labored breathing filled the silence, though it was drowned out by the mocking laughter of the men surrounding him.
A group of four stood over him, their faces twisted with malice. They wore no masks of mercy, no feigned pity—only cruel grins that cut deeper than any wound.
"Did you honestly think you could escape us?" jeered the leader, a stout man with a greasy sneer. His boot slammed into the boy's ribs, eliciting a choked gasp. "You're nothing but a cocky little wimp."
The boy crumpled further, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Anger burned in his eyes, but his defiance was met with another blow. The leader grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close, his breath reeking of alcohol and smoke.
"You think that look scares me? You're pathetic," he growled before slamming his fist into the boy's chest. A wet crack echoed in the narrow alley as the boy's ribs gave way. He coughed violently, crimson streaking his chin.
"You better remember this: your family owes us. You're worth less than nothing, but you'll pay every last damn coin of that debt if it kills you."
With a final kick to his head, the man let the boy collapse in a heap. "Let's go," he ordered the others, their laughter fading into the night as they disappeared into the shadows.
The boy lay there, motionless, his body screaming in pain. The cold of the pavement seeped into his skin, a chilling reminder of how close he was to death. His vision swam, the world around him blurring as he fought to keep his eyes open.
"Why…" he thought, his mind racing with a mixture of rage and despair. "Why does it have to be like this? Just because of some stupid debt…? If I could just… fight back… if I could kill him…"
The thought lingered, dark and venomous, but even he knew it was hollow. "No… that won't change anything. Killing him won't solve anything…" His fingers twitched weakly, curling into fists as his strength waned. "I need to protect her… I need to protect… my sister…"
His thoughts dimmed, his consciousness slipping away as the darkness consumed him. The alley grew quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. The moonlight bathed his broken body in a pale glow, and time itself seemed to stand still.
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The Hollow System
[New Host Has Been Assigned]
[Welcome to the Hollow System, Iazkari Seurve]
An infinite darkness stretched around him, vast and suffocating. Memories of his death replayed endlessly, each moment sharp and vivid like shards of glass digging into his mind. He watched it unfold again and again, powerless to look away.
Then, a cold, mechanical voice shattered the silence.
[Welcome to the Hollow System, Iazkari Seurve]
His thoughts stirred, sluggish and heavy. "What… what is this?" he whispered hoarsely.
[The Hollow System is a mechanism created by the [REDACTED] to grant its chosen subject extraordinary power.]
"Power?" The word echoed in his mind. "Why would anyone… give me that?"
The voice continued, emotionless and unyielding. [The Host is undergoing Hollowification, a process that transforms humans into Hollows. Left unchecked, it strips subjects of their sanity, reducing them to mindless beasts. This system will suppress Hollowification, preserving the Host's mind while unlocking their potential.]
"Hollowification… beasts?" The words felt foreign, yet strangely familiar, as if something deep within him already knew.
[The process will take 10 years. Alternatively, the Host may enter stasis to accelerate the transformation, though failure risks awakening as an Adjuchas after 500 years.]
Ten years. The enormity of it made his head spin. "Ten years in the dark… like this?"
Sensing his hesitation, the system presented an option. [Host may enter stasis. Consciousness will cease temporarily, and upon awakening, the process will be complete.]
He hesitated, fear clawing at him. But what choice did he have? "Do it," he whispered.
[Affirmative. Initiating stasis...]
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Time slipped away in the void, seconds bleeding into minutes, hours into years. When Iazkari finally opened his eyes, he wasn't the same.
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On the outskirts of Karakura Town, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. The Hollow stood tall—over five meters in height—with a body of jet-black smoke and sinew. Its mask, shaped like a knight's helm, gleamed under the moonlight. Blade-like arms rested at its sides, their edges sharp enough to cut through steel.
The air around it hummed with an unnatural tension as it scanned its surroundings. Souls lingered in the forest—a banquet of spiritual energy—but the Hollow showed no interest. Its yellow eyes glowed beneath its mask, focused on something far beyond the reach of ordinary senses.
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[Reawakening of the Host… Success]
[Welcome Back, Iazkari Seurve]
"What the…" The Hollow's voice rumbled low and deep. Its gaze moved to its blade-like arms, flexing them experimentally. "So this is what I've become…"
[The Host is now a Hollow. The transformation has been successfully stabilized.]
A panel appeared before him, illuminating his new reality. His stats were displayed, each number pitifully low compared to what he would need to survive. Yet, as he stared at them, something stirred within him—not despair, but resolve.
"This is only the beginning," he muttered, his yellow eyes gleaming with determination. The journey ahead would be long and grueling, but for the first time, Iazkari felt a flicker of hope.
He would rise, no matter the cost.