It's been a month—a month since Gabriel had entered this tedious grind of hunting and killing, eating, devouring, and getting stronger.
Risking his life, fighting Hollows way above his league, yet each time he got close to death, he felt stronger.
He had become stronger. He could now hunt any Hollow below the Menos Grande tier. He wasn't going to try his chances with an Adjucha, though.
He got that info from another Hollow he ate—something, something about an Adjucha buddy coming to take revenge for him.
Utter BS.
So, if the info was right...
There were regular Hollows who ate human souls. A tier above them were Hollows who consumed other Hollows, which was roughly where Gabriel was.
Then, there was a stage above that, where thousands of Hollows devoured each other, and the last Hollow alive became a Gillian.
Or a Menos Grande.
He had no idea how a Gillian became an Adjucha, but he was willing to bet his intelligence that to advance, one's will must be strong enough to overpower the wills of the thousand other souls in the body.
Once that was done, they became an Adjucha, which were very powerful. If Gillians were mindless beasts with a lot of power, Adjuchas were beasts with brains and had as much as ten times the power of a Gillian.
And above them all... the ones who stood at the top of this hierarchy: Vasto Lordes.
They were the peak of Hollow evolution... or at least he assumed.
This would be his goal: to become a Vasto Lorde and then get a wife.
Preferably one with above-average breast size... his father had spoiled him. He'd seen way too many pictures of women with big tits.
Gabriel's gaze then went toward the statue he had built—a statue of his father made using the sand of Hueco Mundo.
He knelt down in front of the statue, his crimson eyes soft as he gazed at the figure. He ran his clawed fingers over its surface, smoothing imperfections he had worked tirelessly to fix over the past month.
"Hey, Dad..." he said quietly, his voice carrying an unusual gentleness. He placed the severed mask of a massive, hippopotamus-like Hollow at the statue's base.
"Look what I got today. It was huge, but I took it down. It wasn't easy—it fought hard. But I... I'm strong now. Are you... proud of me?"
...
He couldn't hold back his emotions. In the end, his voice cracked. He looked away, trying to hide the fact that tears—yes, tears—were falling from his eyes.
A faint tremble ran through his hand as he continued. "I've been hunting a lot. I don't feel as hungry anymore—not like I used to. But... it's not enough. Not really. It'll never be enough, not without you."
His hunger, for the most part, could be ignored. He hunted about 300 Hollows a day.
He fully absorbed their essence into his body. Unlike most Hollows, when Gabriel ate something, he gained much more than strength.
He gained a new way to shape his soul.
The more he ate... the better his ability got. He strengthened the shape of his soul with each Hollow he devoured.
He could heal back his soul, meaning he would never stagnate. The second he did, he could reshape his soul in order to continue growing. If he didn't have the potential to be a Vasto Lorde, he would reshape his soul so that he did.
All he needed was fuel... and the Hollows he ate were plenty of fuel.
If he ate a couple thousand more Hollows, he could evolve to the stage that was Gillian.
As long as he breathed, Vasto Lorde would be his to claim.
He exhaled a shaky breath. None of this mattered right now. He gazed at the statue in front of him.
"I miss you so much, Dad. Every day, I wake up thinking maybe I'll hear your voice again. That maybe this nightmare will end, and I'll be home, and you'll be laughing at one of those terrible jokes you loved so much." His claws tightened into fists, and a tear slipped from his eye, carving a path down his pale face.
"But you're not here... and I'm alone." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know if I'm doing this right. I don't even know if you'd recognize me now. I'm not your Gabriel anymore—I'm something else. Something... awful. And yet... I just wish you'd tell me that you're proud. Just once."
He was not Gabriel anymore. He found himself being a monster. He, however, would continue calling himself that name.
Gabriel was the name his father gave him, and he would be damned if he did not make his papa proud.
He was a papa's boy. Was there any wrong in that?
"I'm trying," he said softly. "I'll keep getting stronger. I'll make sure no one can ever take away what I care about again. I promise."
With that, he went to the Hollow he was devouring and began to finish his meal.
Tasted decent...
He needed more. He needed more strength. He wanted more power.
Maybe it was about time he started feeding on Gillians...
Yeah.
A/N