Bleach Hollow World Novels & Stories

I asked, narrowing my eyes while studying his expression, my mind buzzing with questions about the mysterious boy across from me. “Ace. Ace Groovehood,” he answered, his tone casual yet commanding. Groovehood. The name rang a bell. They owned Generosasis, which explained the air of mystery and confidence that surrounded him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Deborah Waters,” I said, extending my hand for a shake. His grip was warm and firm, a subtle strength that sent a thrill through me as he said, “I know who you are, Deborah.” Hearing my name from him felt electric, and I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly it rolled off his tongue.

At the altar sat a sealed obsidian vessel, faintly glowing red—the Blood of the Ashen Saint. As Bain and Seraphina approached, the ground trembled. With a sudden crack, humanoid figures burst from beneath the floorboards. Twisted, eyeless, and stitched together from fragments of failed Hollow experiments — failed children, abandoned vessels. “They’re Hollow Shells!” Elias shouted. Sokolov drew his twin blades while Vulture blasted one straight through the chest, sending it skidding across the stone. “They’re trying to stall us!” Seraphina cried. “They know we’re close!”

Lozano here just chuckled at the both of us. “Now why don’t you kill me like what you said huh? Elexier?” *phone beeps* I punched my steering wheel and I can see that my eyes are slowly forming drops of teras. But I cleared kit right away because I won’t see the roe. I swear! I’m gonna make him pay! Wait for me Amira, I’ll come and save you both!

KYLA'S POV The world was screaming. The Void-Beast let out a sound that wasn't a roar, but a vacuum of noise—a hollow shriek that sucked the air right out of my lungs. Everywhere the creature's white, skeletal fingers touched, the vibrant life of the glade withered into icy gray ash. The honey lake, my sanctuary of warmth, was beginning to turn sluggish and cold, its golden surface filming over with a thin sheet of black ice that felt like needles against my skin.

“It’s… alive, isn’t it?” Kael glanced back, gold eyes gleaming in the dim light. Shadows curled along his skin, restless, protective. “It remembers,” he said. “Not everything, but enough to hide us… if we respect it. The Hollow’s magic fades slowly, but it leaves marks. Echoes. Residual intent. That’s why we feel it.” Aria pressed closer to him instinctively, the bond tightening between them like a taut wire. “I don’t want to feel like… a ghost,” she whispered. “Like I’m walking on someone else’s memories.”

My voice broke with panic, my hands scrambling for my blade. “Quick, Eren, torches—now!” Aziz barked. Flint scratched. A torch flared, then another. Uncle Eren shoved one into a wall sconce, the flames casting long, jittering shadows. Then it happened. Our hellblades began to glow. A red pulse, faint at first, then stronger, like a heartbeat shared between them all. The glow shimmered across the stone, reflecting in our eyes. My throat tightened. “Why is it glowing already, I don’t see anything?”

Lillia voiced out firmly, and this time, Anubis met her gaze. “You were blocked by Azazel, the gatekeeper of The Hollow because you were alive. The Hollow is the realm of the dead. It is home to all things vile and evil, and if they smell you, they will latch onto you and will not stop until you are dead.” Anubis lifted the bowl and handed it to Lillia again. “Drink…” she repeated coldly. “…if you want to save your friend.” Lillia swallowed. Slowly, her fingers stretched and grabbed the bowl from Anubis but she did not bring it to her mouth.

Rhea said. ​She turned to her pack. "Marcus, secure the data. Sela, evacuate the 'Hollowed'—if we can purge the Leech, we can bring them back. We’re leaving this tomb." ​As they walked out of the Logic-Fortress, the "Dead-Zone" of Sector 14 was no longer grey. The first streaks of a real dawn were breaking over the industrial ruins. The "Blight" was receding, and for the first time in a century, a single, green sprout was pushing through the concrete.

And as I fall, tail limp, blood spiraling upward in threads that will be gone before anyone at the surface can notice them, every bright hue in my scales beginning, very slowly, to drain, the Hollow begins to drink me. The pink goes first. And then, somewhere very far below me in the black, something much ol der than pink begins, patiently, to wait.

“Sister mine.” She points at Moira. The bone knife explodes. Splinters drive into Moira’s chest. She staggers, shock breaking through the burned mask. “You— you’re not—” “Hollow,” Wrath says from the doorway. He’s covered in black blood. Not his. One of the Others hangs limp in his grip. Its neck is bent wrong. “The Hollow are not dead, Alpha. They evolved.” He drops the body. It hits the floor and dissolves into gold light. The light flows toward Clay. Toward Love. Toward Cael.