The creature's teeth closed on empty air as I flash-stepped behind it, swinging Zangetsu in a wide arc. The blade bit deep, cleaving through leathery flesh with satisfying resistance. The monster shrieked—a sound like metal scraping against glass—before collapsing into a twitching heap.
"That wasn't so bad," I muttered, keeping Zangetsu raised.
Months of fighting Hollows had taught me one vital lesson: where there's one monster, there's usually—
The ground trembled again. Three more eruptions of dirt and ash, three more eyeless abominations.
"—more," I finished with a sigh. "Of course there are more. Why wouldn't there be more?"
The creatures circled me, their movements unnervingly coordinated for things without eyes. They sniffed the air, heads tilting as if confused by what they sensed.
"What, never smelled a Shinigami before?" I taunted, settling into a fighting stance. "Can't say I'm thrilled to meet you guys either."
The one on the left lunged first. I parried its claws with the flat of my blade, using its momentum to send it crashing into its buddy on the right. The third took advantage of the opening, leaping with surprising speed. Its claws raked across my arm before I could fully dodge.
"Ow! You little—" I spun, bringing Zangetsu down in an overhead strike that split the creature from skull to sternum. It collapsed, its insides a disturbing mix of organs that definitely weren't found in any biology textbook I'd slept through.
The remaining two regrouped, more cautious now. Good. They should be.
"Look," I said, pointing Zangetsu at them, "I'm lost, I'm tired, and I'm really not in the mood. So either you two back off, or—"
They charged simultaneously.
"—fine, have it your way."
I gathered my reiatsu, feeling the familiar surge of power. "Getsuga Tenshō!"
The crescent wave of blue-white energy erupted from my blade, carving through both creatures and a good twenty feet of landscape behind them. Silence fell as the dust settled, the only movement the gradual disintegration of the monsters' bodies into that same ashy substance that covered the ground.
"Huh. Not Hollows," I observed, watching them dissolve without leaving souls behind. Just... nothing.
I wiped sweat from my forehead, surveying the damage my attack had caused. Maybe a bit overkill, but I wasn't exactly feeling subtle.
My arm stung where the creature had caught me. I examined the wound—four parallel gashes, not too deep but bleeding steadily. I tore a strip from the bottom of my shihakushō and wrapped it around the injury. Rukia would've lectured me about proper wound care, but Rukia wasn't here.
None of them were here.
The realization hit me again, heavier this time. I was completely alone in this... wherever this was. No friends, no familiar spiritual pressures, not even an enemy I recognized.
"Focus, Ichigo," I told myself, sheathing Zangetsu. "Find high ground, get your bearings."
I spotted a tall, partially collapsed tower about half a mile away—the highest structure in this ruined landscape. With a few flash steps, I made my way toward it, keeping alert for more underground surprises.
The tower, like everything else here, was built from a strange black stone veined with what looked like solidified lava. Despite its partial collapse, it was still sturdy enough to climb. I made my way up the spiraling interior staircase, stepping carefully over debris and the occasional... bone? Yeah, those were definitely bones. Human-sized, but with odd proportions.
"Getting better and better," I muttered.
When I finally reached the open top of the tower, the view was both breathtaking and disturbing. The ruined city stretched for miles in every direction, once-magnificent buildings now reduced to skeletal remains. Beyond the city limits, the landscape transformed into barren volcanic fields, then mountains that seemed to glow with internal fire. Far to the east, I could see water—an ocean or sea, its surface strangely dark.
But it was the sky that really got my attention. Bands of red and purple clouds swirled overhead, occasionally split by lightning that left lingering afterimages in the air. This whole place felt wrong, like reality itself was damaged here.
I sat cross-legged on a flat section of the tower's broken wall and closed my eyes, concentrating. If I couldn't sense my friends, maybe I could at least try to communicate with them.
"Hey, old man," I said inwardly, reaching for the familiar presence of my Zanpakutō spirit. "Any idea where we are?"
Silence.
"Old man Zangetsu? You there?"
More silence. Not the usual silence of him ignoring me until he decided to be cryptic and helpful—this was... emptiness. I could still feel my Zanpakutō's power, could still channel my reiatsu through it, but the connection to the spirit himself seemed... muffled.
Great. Even my sword was giving me the silent treatment.
I tried a different approach, focusing on my hollow side. If I couldn't reach the old man, maybe my inner Hollow would—
Nothing. The power was there, but the presence, the annoying voice that usually mocked my every decision, was absent.
"Perfect," I groaned, opening my eyes. "Completely alone except for eyeless chompy things. Just how I wanted to spend my weekend."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the combat pass Ukitake had given me. If there was any connection back to Soul Society, maybe this could—
I channeled my reiatsu into it. The pass remained inert, not even a flicker of response.
"Worth a shot," I sighed, tucking it away again.
My stomach growled loudly, reminding me of more immediate concerns. Food. Water. Shelter. Information. In that order.
I scanned the ruins below, looking for anything that might suggest civilization. No smoke from fires, no movement except for shadows that elongated unnaturally as the strange sun began to set. Shit. Night was coming, and something told me I didn't want to be outside when darkness fell in this place.
A flicker of movement caught my eye—something darting between buildings about half a mile away. Too fast and coordinated to be one of those underground creatures. Almost looked like... a person?
"Hey!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. "HEY! Over here!"
The figure froze, then looked up toward my tower. Even at this distance, I could see the moment of recognition, the startle of surprise. Then it bolted, running with unmistakable purpose.
"Oh no you don't," I muttered. "First sign of intelligent life I've seen, and you're not getting away that easily."
I leapt from the tower, using flash step to rapidly close the distance. The figure—definitely humanoid but moving with a strange, loping gait—ducked into a partially collapsed building. I followed, Zangetsu ready in my hand.
The interior was dim, lit only by strange phosphorescent fungi growing along the walls. The air was thick with dust and that same sulfurous smell, but now mixed with something else—something rotten.
"Hello?" I called out, my voice echoing. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know where I am."
A rustling sound came from behind a fallen column. I approached slowly, hand tight on Zangetsu's hilt.
"Look, I'm lost. I'm just trying to—"
The figure lunged from hiding—but it wasn't a person. Not anymore.
It had the basic shape of a human, wore the tattered remains of what might have been clothing, but its skin was gray and cracked like old parchment, its eyes milky white. And its mouth... its mouth was wrong, too wide, filled with the same needle teeth as the creatures outside.
"Oh, come ON!" I yelled, raising Zangetsu just in time to block as it hurled itself at me with inhuman speed.
Its strength was surprising, forcing me back a step. Up close, I could see what I'd missed from a distance—half its face was normal, or had been once. A man's face, middle-aged maybe, now twisted in a permanent grimace of pain. The other half had... transformed.
"What happened to you?" I couldn't help asking as I shoved it back.
It answered with a gurgling shriek and lunged again. This time I sidestepped, bringing Zangetsu's hilt down hard on the back of its neck. It stumbled but didn't fall.
Tougher than it looked.
It turned, faster than I expected, clawed hands grasping. One caught my injured arm, tearing the makeshift bandage and reopening the wound.
"That's ENOUGH!" I shouted, my patience evaporating.
I drove Zangetsu forward in a direct thrust, impaling the creature through its chest. It writhed, that awful shrieking continuing even as black ichor poured from the wound. I pulled my blade free and, with a clean stroke, severed its head.
The body crumpled, twitching. Unlike the underground creatures, it didn't dissolve.
I stepped back, breathing hard, staring at what I'd just killed. It wasn't a Hollow. It wasn't a Soul. But it had been human once—that much was clear.
"What the hell is this place?" I whispered, looking around the ruined building with new eyes.
The fungi on the walls pulsed gently, casting eerie blue-green light over broken furniture and more scattered bones. In one corner, half-hidden by debris, I spotted what looked like a chest or trunk.
Keeping one eye on the corpse—because I'd seen enough zombie movies to know better—I made my way to the trunk and pushed aside the rubble covering it. The lock was corroded, yielding easily to a sharp tap from Zangetsu's hilt.
Inside were fabrics, rotted mostly to dust, but beneath them—books. Old, their bindings made from some kind of leather I didn't want to think too hard about, but surprisingly intact. And something else—a metal container, sealed tight.
I pried it open carefully. Water. Stale but clear.
I sniffed it cautiously, then took a small sip. It tasted flat and metallic, but not poisoned as far as I could tell. I allowed myself a few more swallows, then recapped it. No telling when I'd find more.
The books were another matter. I picked one up, brushing dust from its cover. The writing was like nothing I'd ever seen—flowing symbols that seemed to shift slightly when I wasn't looking directly at them. Great. Not only was I in a strange world, but I couldn't even read the instruction manual.
I tucked the water container into my shihakushō and selected the smallest of the books to take with me. Maybe I'd find someone who could translate it—preferably someone not trying to eat my face.
Night was falling fast now, the strange sun dipping behind the mountains. The tower seemed like the safest place to spend the night—good visibility, defensible, and hopefully too high for those underground things to reach.
I flash-stepped back, settling into a protected corner of the tower's broken top. From here, I could see much of the ruined city, now bathed in the eerie half-light of dusk.
In the distance, something large moved across the sky—too big to be a bird, too far to make out clearly.
My stomach growled again, reminding me that water was only half the battle. I'd have to find food tomorrow, figure out more about this place, and most importantly, find a way home.
I leaned back against the cool stone, Zangetsu across my lap, and watched darkness claim the alien landscape.
"Hang on, guys," I whispered to my absent friends. "I'm coming back. Somehow."
As night fell completely, strange lights began to flicker among the ruins—not fires, but something colder, bluer. Distant shrieks and moans carried on the wind. Whatever else lurked in this dead city, it was waking up now.
I gripped Zangetsu tighter and prepared for a long night.
"Just another day in the life of Ichigo Kurosaki," I muttered sarcastically. "Soul Reaper, high school student, and now... tourist in hell."
The wind carried no answer except the hungry cries of things hunting in the dark.