Bleach:Zangetsu

The blackness was suffocating. It swallowed her whole, pulling her in deeper. She could feel her body—her very self—floating, suspended, yet she couldn't feel the air. No breath, no sound, just an overwhelming pressure. Something—someone—watched her.

The smile came first, slow and chilling. The figure, hooded, was little more than a silhouette against the endless dark, but his eyes—those eyes—cold, like a shard of ice, pierced her. She felt them dig into her soul.

"Blut." The word, barely audible, echoed in her chest. He didn't speak it, not aloud. It felt as though the syllable itself pressed against her ribcage, like cold fingers squeezing her heart.

Bubbles broke the silence—disjointed, like something was escaping his lips." Vain."

She reached toward him, but Her body wouldn't respond.

Blood rushed up her throat, hot and thick, spilling from her mouth. She didn't have time to think, only to react. Pain. Her chest tightened, constricted, and with it, the world tilted. She couldn't focus. Her hands were shaking—shaking—and before she could stop herself, she looked down.

There, buried deep, was the sword. Tensa Zangetsu.

it was lodged so deep in her chest that it felt as though it had fused with her very heart. Blackened edges glowed against the darkness, radiating an aura that was wrong, unnatural.

It hurt.

The pain was something she couldn't understand. —it was inside her. It burned. Her chest heaved, the air too thin to breathe, but her body refused to exhale. No, I—

The dark veins erupted. They spread across her skin, creeping outward from the center of her chest. They were alive, squirming beneath her skin, curling up her arms, across her face, down her legs. The veins pulsed with each throbbing beat of her heart.

Her thoughts fragmented as a deep cold swept over her. She wanted to scream, but no sound came. It was as though the very air around her had frozen solid, stifling her voice, choking her from the inside.

What is this?

Her skin burned where the black veins spread. She could feel them—could feel the unnatural pulse they carried, a wave of Reiatsu so dense it felt suffocating, spilling out of her in black tendrils. The sword was an anchor, a weight she couldn't escape.

It's too much. I can't—

Her body trembled, limbs shaking uncontrollably. The veins were no longer just a mark on her skin; they were part of her, flowing through her, consuming her from within. She saw images of A blackened Humanoid hollow.

I can't breathe. Why is it... so cold?

The Water crept down her throat, filling her lungs. Her legs buckled, but she couldn't fall. She was suspended—trapped. 

The edges of her vision flickered. Please...

A flash—a glimpse of the figure above her, staring down with those icy eyes, unblinking. He didn't move. His presence crushed her. "Everything in the world exists for [me] to take." He lifted up his hand and with a snap of his fingers.

And then, something inside her snapped.

The black aura pulsated, reaching out from her chest like a dark flame. Her chest burned with the pressure, like something was trying to Break her from the inside.

A scream—no, it was a whisper—slipped through her thoughts, but it didn't reach her lips.

I… I'm.

...

The air felt warm, the earth beneath her feet solid and familiar. But there was something strange about it. 'These designs' It wasn't right. There was something she should have known, something that scratched at the back of her mind—but it was distant, out of reach..... her brows furrowed in confusion. where the hell am I now?..

The cavern stretched far, jagged walls etched in deep shadows, It was lit by an eerie glow, The candles on the stone walls flickered. Neliel stared at the walls, her eyes unfocused, fighting the dizziness that spun her mind.

She had to blink several times before she could make sense of her surroundings. The stone floor beneath her feet was cracked, uneven, but the warmth of the candles made it feel almost comforting.

Her breath hitched when a familiar voice broke through the haze.

"Miss Neliel?!"

Neliel's gaze snapped toward the source, and there, standing before her, was Pícaro. The child's hollow mask, shaped like music headphones, flickered in the candlelight. His eyes were wide with concern, his small hands reaching toward her, waving.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly, He stepped closer.

Pícaro? Her heart skipped. The voice, innocent and pure, seemed to pull her out of the daze.

"Huh..." The sound left her lips in a strangled breath.

This place... This was impossible.

She stumbled back, her legs heavy, a deep confusion welling up inside of her. How was this here? How was this real?

And then, her eyes caught a glimpse of a mirror that stood oddly in the cavern, reflecting the world around her. She froze, her breath hitched as she approached. The reflection staring back at her wasn't the one she knew. It was a young woman.

It was Her...

Her green hair was short, only brushing her shoulders, and her torn outfit was simple brown animal fur—a yellow belt wrapped around her waist, the fabric stained and worn,

Her mask—broken, just like theirs, rested on her head, the skull of a goat. Her Hollow hole was visible once again, right above her chest it was in the shape of a crescent moon shape. The scar was entirely Gone on her face.

"No..." The word left her lips in a breathless whisper. This couldn't be real. She wasn't supposed to be here. How was this possible? She thought with shock.

"Miss.... Nelliel?" The voice came again, clearer now, as the child with the hollow mask—Pícaro—stood just a few feet away, smiling. His mask was so strange, so peculiar. The musical headphones looked comical, but his eyes, bright and trusting, were full of warmth.

Her gaze dropped to him, but she couldn't bring herself to smile.

She could feel it—the knot in her chest tightening. This place, this memory, felt so familiar, but wrong at the same time.

And then, a new memory flashed before her—quick, like a lightning strike. She was standing before a group of children, her own voice, young and filled with hope, echoing in the air.

"We are not monsters..." she had said. Her voice was a call for something more, something she couldn't understand back then.

But now...

Neliel gripped the book tighter, her knuckles white. This can't be real. This has to be a dream, a trick. She sensed with her spiritual sense to get a feel of the Surroundings.

no sense of malice in the air. Just peace.

She looked down and realized she was holding something in her hands—a book. A human book. She could feel the weight of it, the rough texture of the pages. She glanced at the cover, her stomach twisting with disbelief. It was Vinland Saga.

She could feel her heart racing, her pulse hammering in her chest. The image before her—this memory—didn't make sense. It shouldn't be here.

"Are you alright?" Picaro, His voice was soft, full of concern.

She blinked, and suddenly, her chest tightened again, a wave of emotions crashing over her. She wanted to reach out, to answer, but the words stuck in her throat.

She wasn't sure what to say...