"Third Seat, please come with me."
The one assigned to receive Akira was Nemu Kurotsuchi, lieutenant of the 12th Division. Maintaining her usual expressionless composure, she led him in silence through the winding corridors of the division headquarters, toward the captain's laboratory.
At the far end of the chamber stood Kurotsuchi Mayuri—captain of the 12th Division and director of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. A grotesque grin stretched across his painted face as his golden eyes raked over Akira.
"You're Akira," Mayuri mused, voice dripping with theatrical amusement. "The one who caused quite the… disturbance a few days ago, correct?"
Akira met his gaze evenly. "Yes. Though I didn't expect the director of the SRDI to personally receive me."
"Normally, Nemu's briefing would suffice," Mayuri replied, his grin widening. "But I requested your presence myself. Your Zanpakutō… fascinates me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned slightly, chin resting on a gloved finger as he muttered to himself.
"We reinforce the training grounds with Sekkiseki—spiritual energy–dampening stone. By all scientific logic, they should be nigh indestructible." He narrowed his eyes, head tilting like a curious predator. "And yet… the entire field was vaporized in a single strike. Such output is impossible at the Shikai stage!"
Akira remained unmoved. "Captain Kurotsuchi," he said flatly, "it isn't my duty to satisfy your curiosity."
"My mission is time-sensitive. Give me the briefing, and I'll be on my way."
For a heartbeat, Mayuri went still—expression unreadable. Then he chuckled, low and theatrical.
"Very well. I'll have plenty of time to study you… if you return alive."
With a flick of his wrist, he produced two small, shimmering talismans—Kaimon Fūin, specialized seals developed by the SRDI.
"These are prototype World-Piercing Seals—single-use only. The first opens a Garganta into Hueco Mundo. The second activates automatically after three days, reopening the portal for your return… assuming you survive."
Akira accepted the seals without hesitation. He knew better than to doubt Mayuri's inventions—the captain's pride guaranteed their reliability, if not their safety.
As his fingers traced the seals' faintly pulsing glyphs, a smirk tugged at his lips.
"So they even locked the return seal to a timer… The Four Noble Houses really are pulling out all the stops to make sure I don't come back."
Mayuri's head tilted slightly, eyes sharpening with sudden interest. "If you agree to become my test subject, I could make their efforts… irrelevant."
Akira laughed—short, sharp, and utterly dismissive.
"Not a chance. My favorite thing in the world is saying 'no' to people who think they're in control."
Even Mayuri blinked—an uncharacteristic pause. What an odd specimen…
Recovering swiftly, he waved a hand. "Enough chatter. I assume you're not a complete fool, so you already grasp the gist."
"Your objective is simple: survive in Hueco Mundo for three days. Don't die too quickly—I'd hate for my seals to go to waste."
With that, Mayuri turned back to his workbench. Since Akira refused to cooperate with his research, there was no point in prolonging the conversation.
However, what Mayuri didn't realize was that Akira had no intention of merely surviving.
Rather than waste time elsewhere, Akira made his way to a restricted chamber deep within the SRDI—one of the few locations in the Seireitei where a Garganta could be safely opened without triggering alarms or compromising security.
Without hesitation, he activated the Kaimon Fūin—the First Sealing Array.
Spiritual energy surged into the seal. With a sharp crackle, it disintegrated in his palm, and in its place, a small Garganta tore open before him. Barely large enough for a single person to pass through—far too narrow for even a Gillian to force its way in—it shimmered with unstable reishi.
Akira took a steadying breath.
"Perfectly prepared."
And with that, he stepped into the void, vanishing into the darkness of Hueco Mundo.
---
Hueco Mundo.
The eternal night sky loomed overhead, a pale crescent moon casting its feeble light across the desolate expanse. The air was unnervingly still, yet thick with malice—an oppressive weight that clung to the soul like a second skin.
Akira wasn't unfamiliar with this place. He'd studied it before crossing over: an endless desert of bone-white sand, punctuated only by twisted, skeletal trees that seemed to reach for a sky long since abandoned by life. The moment his feet touched the ground, his senses sharpened. This was enemy territory—truly, utterly hostile.
"Surviving here won't be easy," he muttered. "But if I can't endure this, then what's the point of having a survival system at all?"
Akira had always been self-aware. Even after acquiring the system, he never acted rashly. Every move was calculated, every risk weighed. To an outside observer, his actions might have seemed reckless—but in truth, they were the product of meticulous planning. His strategy was clear: court enough danger to trigger survival rewards, but never cross the line into true mortality.
He exhaled slowly, assessing his situation.
"This time, I have two objectives," he thought. "First: increase my odds in the lottery draw. Second: sharpen my combat instincts."
The system granted him weapons and abilities—Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory, among them—but raw power alone meant little without real experience. In battle, theory crumbled before instinct. And the best way to forge instinct? Fight. Relentlessly.
"With Excalibur's true name released, even ordinary Hollows are nothing," he murmured. "A Gillian? I can fell it in a single strike."
His expression tightened.
"But an Adjuchas… three seconds of Shikai might not be enough. Better avoid them—for now."
Grip firm on Excalibur's hilt, Akira surged forward.
The lesser Hollows of Hueco Mundo were pitifully weak. They fell before his blade like dry leaves in a storm—shattered by precise cuts, overwhelmed by masterful swordsmanship and inhuman reflexes. Yet by the time the last Hollow dissolved into reishi, Akira was battered, his robes torn, his spiritual pressure flickering like a dying candle.
"Hah… Hueco Mundo's reputation isn't exaggerated," he panted, slumping against the lee of a hidden dune. "But… I made it through the first day."
As the moon climbed higher, he activated the system.
[Congratulations, Host! You have successfully survived one day in Hueco Mundo. A lottery reward has been granted!]
Akira's eyes locked onto the prompt. Exhaustion warred with anticipation as he tapped to begin the draw.
"The dangers here aren't like Soul Society's," he mused, voice low. "This time… I'd better get something worth the risk."