Time for battle it was, as Saiga opened a Garganta to Hueco Mundo where the vast barren grounds remind him of the good old days where he fought the Vasto Lordes it was a slight breeze and the bright pale horizons overlooking the distance. "I can't wait to fight those things here , good old times"
Bleach: Midnight Clash (Prequal / Test RP)
Zero then felt the pressure of the three intruders all together "haha HA! It seems like this will be fun" Zero said to himself,Zero then uses his sonido to appear above where the three intruders and fires a purple cero out throughmy mouth "HA!" Zero then uses sonido to move behind the women shinigami holding her in the air by her head "haha do you really think you can beat us here? I don't think so" Zero said with a serious look on his face, Zero then placed his right hand over the females mouth and charges up a grandreycero to blow her head right off.
The new eighth Espada, through all his wisdom, had detailed the inner workings of a shinigami body. He didn't write any of that information down or record it in any form or fashion. Instead, he memorized it until every speck of detail was engraved into his mind. He glued the circulatory systems, the bone growth rate, the average recovery time, the average blood loss and gain rate, how fast they starve or dehydrate, how fast they kill themselves, and the average time they survive on the operating table in an uncontrolled environment. He operated without anastesia, all to both discover new possibilities and to entertain himself. But mostly, it was for the latter. He didn't have any time to contribute to personal activities, and soon his work became his personality. He never thought it was sick or deranged. He only thought it was fun. Jhentoh - the most sadistic Arrancar - had cut into a new realm of knowledge the instant he began to dissect his own kind, however.
The Arrancar body was so different from the shinigami, too different to be real. They contained so many possibilities for transformations, all chosen at random at some time or another. He took corpses and even live specimens, cutting each of them open to reveal a different piece of the universal puzzle. The Arrancar had not only evolved from hollows at a forced rate, but they had adopted shinigami flesh and blood as well. What was Aizen trying to do? Make his beloved children like the shinigami? But that was impossible. The Arrancar still had their released forms. They still had a fraction of what made them different from shinigami. Adjusting his glasses, Jhentoh smiled.
He had reason to, as well. There was always reason to smile once one discovered the source of all question and suffering. Aizen, the narcissist, had done something maybe even he couldn't control. In fact, Jhentoh knew he couldn't control it.
Jhentoh stroked the pommel of his zanpakuto, measuring and feeling the bulb as it purred to him. He momentarily stopped. The reiatsu of one of the experiments was growing more volatile. They all knew the punishment for trying to escape, so why bother? But, if there is order, there must be chaos. This incident was only a simple outline of that principle. It was rather hilarious, seeing his bumbling subordinates trying (and failing) to control it. His Fracción, Jama, came to his side with a scalpel and a medicinal mask over his face. His apron concealed his hollow hole - positioned on his lower waist, where his belly button normally would be - while his rubber gloves hid away his number, which was twenty-one.
"Well, Jama? What did you do to rile this one up?"
"Nothing, sir. I've been busy in the operating room testing the threshold of a wild hollow's hunger,"
"Good. Continue,"
"But, specimen L-41,"
"I'll incapacitate it."
Jhentoh began to move toward the commotion, keeping a watchful eye on the other keepsake experiments. There was a member of the 11th Squad, nicknamed Richie, who had been extremely violent and almost broke his skull on the glass on his first day. Now, he was in the corner of his cell, calm as a baby, rocking back and forth. He apparently had not built up an immunity to the goings-on in the laboratory. If he had not now, he never would. Then there was specimen L-40, one of the Privaron Espada. He was more in-tune to the inane babble of his cellmates, but he would often try to escape. Jhentoh was put in special care of this one, and was instructed to do as he wished with him. He was also one of the eighth Espada's favorite dissection projects.
Then, the heart of the panic was exposed: a rather tall hollow with a humanoid appearance, his mask resembling a beak lined with what seemed to be the teeth from a saw blade. He was strong for a wild creature, perhaps a descendant of a Vasto Lorde since he possessed two pairs of arms extending on either side of his body. Apparently, he was in the process of being tagged; his shoulder was bleeding from the J-shaped tattoo all specimens must be marked with, and thus indicated a struggle. Jhentoh moved into his line of sight, his pink hair flowing with the sheer unbalanced reiatsu they both emitted. Not to sound vain, but Jhentoh's had created a sort of pocket of anti-gravity because of the vast and uncontrolled difference his own reiatsu made. Smiling, he raised his hand in greeting.
"Hello. My name is Jhentoh. Call me Doctor when you become an Arrancar, okay?"
The beast responded with a hard slap that Jhentoh easily blocked with his left arm. Shaking his head in a disappointed fashion, he swept aside the hair blocking his glasses with his right hand.
"Bad answer. Do you have to go down into the operating room for an extended period of time? I would think so, depending on how you're acting right now,"
The hollow seemed culled by the doctor's words and backed away slowly into its cell. It began to curl up into a fetal position, almost like it feared for its life just by how the doctor was talking to him.
"That's better. Finish getting your tattoo and I'll give you an afternoon free of any pain, okay?"
There was a minor rumble from the creature's throat, almost in response. It remained silent and still.
"Good."
Jama was put in charge of L-41 while Jhentoh resumed his duties in bringing new Arrancar to Hueco Mundo. But of course he felt the rising and falling reiatsu
from outside the fortress. He knew something was happening, but it could not have been more important than what was happening in his quarters. He was making Aizen's army, and his new Espada. For every Arrancar that died, there were dozens to take its place, even among the Espada. But Jhentoh was not worried that he would be replaced. His abilities were too valuable. That is why, even if there was an Arrancar that was stronger than he was, he kept his rank as a scientist and was not killed off as inferior. His mind was a rare one among Arrancar, who were normally arrogant to the point of being useless.
He would wait for the infidels to come to him, within the fortress, before he acted. That way, he could plot. He could put them in any scenario he wanted to. But, being a sadist at heart, he wanted to have fun with them first. There was always room to run tests and to experiment.
The Arrancar body was so different from the shinigami, too different to be real. They contained so many possibilities for transformations, all chosen at random at some time or another. He took corpses and even live specimens, cutting each of them open to reveal a different piece of the universal puzzle. The Arrancar had not only evolved from hollows at a forced rate, but they had adopted shinigami flesh and blood as well. What was Aizen trying to do? Make his beloved children like the shinigami? But that was impossible. The Arrancar still had their released forms. They still had a fraction of what made them different from shinigami. Adjusting his glasses, Jhentoh smiled.
He had reason to, as well. There was always reason to smile once one discovered the source of all question and suffering. Aizen, the narcissist, had done something maybe even he couldn't control. In fact, Jhentoh knew he couldn't control it.
Jhentoh stroked the pommel of his zanpakuto, measuring and feeling the bulb as it purred to him. He momentarily stopped. The reiatsu of one of the experiments was growing more volatile. They all knew the punishment for trying to escape, so why bother? But, if there is order, there must be chaos. This incident was only a simple outline of that principle. It was rather hilarious, seeing his bumbling subordinates trying (and failing) to control it. His Fracción, Jama, came to his side with a scalpel and a medicinal mask over his face. His apron concealed his hollow hole - positioned on his lower waist, where his belly button normally would be - while his rubber gloves hid away his number, which was twenty-one.
"Well, Jama? What did you do to rile this one up?"
"Nothing, sir. I've been busy in the operating room testing the threshold of a wild hollow's hunger,"
"Good. Continue,"
"But, specimen L-41,"
"I'll incapacitate it."
Jhentoh began to move toward the commotion, keeping a watchful eye on the other keepsake experiments. There was a member of the 11th Squad, nicknamed Richie, who had been extremely violent and almost broke his skull on the glass on his first day. Now, he was in the corner of his cell, calm as a baby, rocking back and forth. He apparently had not built up an immunity to the goings-on in the laboratory. If he had not now, he never would. Then there was specimen L-40, one of the Privaron Espada. He was more in-tune to the inane babble of his cellmates, but he would often try to escape. Jhentoh was put in special care of this one, and was instructed to do as he wished with him. He was also one of the eighth Espada's favorite dissection projects.
Then, the heart of the panic was exposed: a rather tall hollow with a humanoid appearance, his mask resembling a beak lined with what seemed to be the teeth from a saw blade. He was strong for a wild creature, perhaps a descendant of a Vasto Lorde since he possessed two pairs of arms extending on either side of his body. Apparently, he was in the process of being tagged; his shoulder was bleeding from the J-shaped tattoo all specimens must be marked with, and thus indicated a struggle. Jhentoh moved into his line of sight, his pink hair flowing with the sheer unbalanced reiatsu they both emitted. Not to sound vain, but Jhentoh's had created a sort of pocket of anti-gravity because of the vast and uncontrolled difference his own reiatsu made. Smiling, he raised his hand in greeting.
"Hello. My name is Jhentoh. Call me Doctor when you become an Arrancar, okay?"
The beast responded with a hard slap that Jhentoh easily blocked with his left arm. Shaking his head in a disappointed fashion, he swept aside the hair blocking his glasses with his right hand.
"Bad answer. Do you have to go down into the operating room for an extended period of time? I would think so, depending on how you're acting right now,"
The hollow seemed culled by the doctor's words and backed away slowly into its cell. It began to curl up into a fetal position, almost like it feared for its life just by how the doctor was talking to him.
"That's better. Finish getting your tattoo and I'll give you an afternoon free of any pain, okay?"
There was a minor rumble from the creature's throat, almost in response. It remained silent and still.
"Good."
Jama was put in charge of L-41 while Jhentoh resumed his duties in bringing new Arrancar to Hueco Mundo. But of course he felt the rising and falling reiatsu
from outside the fortress. He knew something was happening, but it could not have been more important than what was happening in his quarters. He was making Aizen's army, and his new Espada. For every Arrancar that died, there were dozens to take its place, even among the Espada. But Jhentoh was not worried that he would be replaced. His abilities were too valuable. That is why, even if there was an Arrancar that was stronger than he was, he kept his rank as a scientist and was not killed off as inferior. His mind was a rare one among Arrancar, who were normally arrogant to the point of being useless.
He would wait for the infidels to come to him, within the fortress, before he acted. That way, he could plot. He could put them in any scenario he wanted to. But, being a sadist at heart, he wanted to have fun with them first. There was always room to run tests and to experiment.
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