Becoming the Darkness

Hidane fell to his knees even before the pressure came back, the burning returning to consume his eye and feeling like it was reaching throughout his entire soul; just what had that Mod Soul done to him? Kurosenkou fell to the side, and the mirage’s words were like a storm raging around him, all absorbed but none quite connecting. Not yet, not now. He heard them, though. Lies, surely, all of them lies… but what reason would this mirage have to lie? There was clearly nothing Hidane could do. Either this was actually Seran’s will inscribed into his soul… a technique the likes of which he’d never even heard of being possible… or this truly was simply an echo of the Mod Soul imprinted in his own soul, some part of his soul that resonated with the Mod Soul strongly enough, taken and transfigured into something else.

He was like Kurosenko, but so much different.

Looking up, he saw the black substance form into a mirror; he saw for himself for the first time, as though from another’s eyes, with the gleaming black arm in the soft glow of the moonlight, and… more importantly… a glowing in his left eye, as if a brand burning in place. He’d said something about such… the Visored had no idea what exactly was going on, but clearly the Mod Soul had left some kind of brand on his soul, and it didn’t seem the kind of thing that could simply be removed. Great, he would have Seran whispering in his ears for all of eternity now along with a Hollowfied Kurosenko.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the pressure and burning completely disappeared, and with parting words so did the mirage fade away, almost as if it had never been there in the first place, as if he’d just hallucinated it. But he could feel the shift in his soul; something was different. And, as if on queue, the Mod Soul’s words sunk in. It was true, though; he had made himself into this. Without thinking of consequences, without even taking the time to look into the condition, he’d just decided to follow this path for power, back then. In the end, he’d made himself into this monster.

He’d been born a monster, raised among thieves and murderers and rapists… and even after rehabilitating himself with the Gotei, he’d chosen power once again by turning himself into a Visored… had he really been a monster from the start? Perhaps, but that was why he was the way he was now. Now all he wanted to do was make amends, take the wrongs he had done and might do in the future and do whatever good he can to counter them…

…right?

The jet black katana to his right shivered back to life, and he could feel the connection to her return. What the hell!? The Zanpakuto’s voice rang out in his head, louder than he’d expected. How was he supposed to face her now? The mirage had said something about speaking with the Hollow, learning of its true goals… has this new Kurosenko been leading him along this whole time? Was she just preparing him for her to try to take over? Had he really been fooled so easily, where countless others in the past had failed? Regardless, he cast the thoughts aside. He couldn’t let Kurosenko catch onto what had happened… not until he figured things out himself. Whatever happened, she was part of his soul, her power his, and he would make it remain his own. He wouldn’t let his doubts and fears lead to another defeat at the hands of the demons inside of him, be they his own or hers, anymore. What the hell just happened!? Bro, can you hear me!?

“Yeah, I can hear you. Doesn’t matter what happened now, I’ll deal with it. You alright?”

Hell yeah I’m alright! I was worried about you! You always freak out when we lose connection like that!

There was a hint of real concern in her voice. He remembered the first time he’d been here, to Hueco Mundo, when an Arrancar had taken her… and nearly his life with her… how quickly he’d fallen to despair, how quickly he’d almost given in to the Hollow. The Hollow took a much more direct, blunt form then, physically and mentally.

But what was it now that it was fused with Kurosenko? Who was she?

“Now then, now that that little interruption is out of the way…” He drew the black blade from her sheath, drawing the sharp line across his palm as his mask formed over his face. He could feel the darkness welling up within himself. “Shall we?

Raffreddare le Ossa… Thanatos.” Jet black Reiryoku tinted his skin the same color the sky above, jet black, as he took his new, refined Resurreccion form. Though he could feel the pull of the darkness, he remained himself. He felt every function, every movement of his body, more acutely. He remembered this feeling from when he’d come out of his training in the warehouse; when in this form, it was as if he hadn’t even been alive until entering this state. It was like it was meant to be.

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