The pitch-black that looms around Darwin, slowly and steadily spread further away, eating the very fabric of reality.
A chilling screech leak from his enormous lips, redness overshadowed his once luminescent, green eyes.
His hand gripped the very air as if it had the trait of a solid's tangibility.
The Fourth Stratos shook to an unbelievable degree, sending shivers to all floors.
—-
—[Tenth Stratos]—
A slender, lean figure sat idly by staring into the desolate wasteland. Each new Hollow that appeared couldn't spark his interest whatsoever.
He was bored.
The very Reiatsu he exerts took the lives of many, the lives who he wishes to converse with.
His eyes dull, a dulling which had extended beyond the scopes of time.
In his surrounding vicinity, there lies many finger marks of writing, something to keep him sane from this perpetuating boredom.
[I am not inherently evil. Hollows view me as evil. None who dared come near me survived longer than a mere second. It hurts me more than it hurts other for I who cannot live with meaning.]
'Why do I subject myself to seclusion?' This mysterious being thought. He was neither sad nor happy. He hadn't grasped the emotions that others experienced.
What does it mean to fight on even grounds when one cannot enjoy such luxury?
What does it mean to have a conversation?
He was naturally tame when it comes to personality.
There wasn't meaning behind the act of violence, which he had thought.
"Maybe it's time for I to split myself so that I can stay in the same realm as other Hollows."
But before he would do such a thing, his 'territory' which he layed himself upon shook.
It was enticing to say the least.
He furrowed his sore, lazy brows, pinching his nose in quiet ponder.
Then he let out a soft sigh, thinking this might be an opportunity to reconnect with others in Hueco Mundo.
Even if it meant taking another decade to stroll around empty dunes, finding someone strong enough to speak to.
However, he was unlucky, really unlucky…
He scurried towards the weaker sides of Hueco Mundo—not because he was scared, it was because he was clueless to how each place operated.
He was lost.
What was Las Noches? He didnt even know that there were eight more Stratos he hadn't been in.
When he had arrived in Second Stratos eons ago, he didn't want to commit violence without reason, so he punched the white monument thinking there might be a different approach to going deeper.
This unconsciously made him think that there was no point in putting effort to search stronger individuals.
He curled up like a shrimp, tightly tugging his legs to his chest.
His eyes wane from thought to thought, from question to question.
Muttering to himself, "Why was I alive in the first place?"
But then, a sudden realisation struck him.
" presence above feels strong. Maybe… Just maybe…"
He got up, practiced his lines he would use to introduce himself to this powerful being above.
"Hey. My name is Coyote Starrk. Nice to meet you."
—-
Note // It's unfinished.