The white sands of Hueco Mundo trembled, as if the realm itself tried to recoil from his presence. The air filled with a thick, metallic sound — a roar that blended fury, pain, and primal delight.

From the shattered obelisk burst a storm of red reiatsu, tearing the sky apart. Within the vortex stood a silhouette — tall, twisted, wreathed in crimson energy and smoke. The mask with twin horns slowly turned, and eyes ignited with a yellow blaze — eyes devoid of reason, yet overflowing with power.

Each step left a trail of ash behind him. The beasts that dared approach dissolved into dust with a single breath of his aura.

He raised his head, baring his fangs beneath the bone mask, and the heavens answered with the echo of his roar. — RAAAAAAAHHH!!!

No words. No thought. Only instinct. Only the hunt. Hueco Mundo once again remembered what it meant — to feel the presence of the Vasto Lorde.