The air was thick with the smell of dust, sweat, and crushed bones. The Bone Circle's shattered castle still groaned under the weight of the chaos we'd just survived. I stood in the center of the throne room, feeling… lighter. Smaller. Human-ish. And best of all—I could talk like a normal person now. No more grunts and roars for me. Finally.
I stretched my new, less clumsy limbs and smirked beneath the half-bone mask covering the lower half of my face.
A system message chimed inside my head:
[CURRENT EP: 0 / 1,000,000,000]
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
EP reward limit updated: MAX 500,000 EP per action.
(To gain EP, simply do something idiot. Seriously, no need to overthink it.)
Well, idiot stuff? I'm basically a pro now.
I glanced toward the giant cactus outside—Spike o Sensei. Towering, thorny, and looking like the ultimate boss of Hueco Mundo. I gave a little nod of respect to my prickly friend.
Baraggan, meanwhile, was still tangled up in those monstrous roots, his skeletal fingers twitching with frustration. Old Vasto Lorde or not, the guy was waiting, just biding his time for Spike o Sensei's grip to loosen.
"Looks like we're not gonna stay here long," I muttered, eyeing my Bone Circle crew—Grimmjow, Yammy, Aizen, Shawlong, our pet and 4 idiot who still faint.
Shawlong cracked one eye open, "You really think that cactus is gonna hold Baraggan forever? That old geezer's got more tricks than a Hollow at a magic show."
"Yeah," Grimmjow added, stretching his claws, "but until he breaks free, we need to get out before things get ugly. And I don't mean my face."
I laughed, rubbing my chin under the mask. "Speaking of ugly… I've got an idea."
Before anyone could ask, I grabbed some bone dust and cracked fragments from the floor. With a wicked grin, I stepped up to Baraggan's pinned form. The old tyrant's jaw hung slack, mouth slightly open in a mixture of rage and disbelief.
"Hey, Baraggan," I said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Since you're stuck here for a while, I figured you could use a little… makeover."
I started painting across his bone face—thick black lines here, crooked patches there, exaggerated wrinkles, a giant unibrow, and a ridiculous crooked grin that stretched nearly from one ear hole to the other.
Grimmjow snorted, Yammy chuckled, and even Aizen wagged his tail like he was entertained.
Baraggan's empty eye sockets seemed to glare, but he was powerless to stop me.
"There. Now you look like the world's ugliest mask. I call it 'Baraggan: The Ancient Joke.'"
+500,000 EP
I stepped back, admiring my handiwork. The others burst into laughter. Even the castle walls seemed to echo with it.
Suddenly, the ground shook. Spike o Sensei's thorns flexed and twitched like a giant waking beast. Baraggan's grip on reality was fading; the old Vasto Lorde was about to break free.
"Alright, idiots," I said, "time to scram before we get squished by old tyrant's bad mood."
Yammy heaved himself up, roaring, "Finally! Let's blast outta here before the real fun starts!"
We sprinted for the exit, dodging falling bones and snapping roots. Grimmjow's white panther form streaked beside me, and even Aizen padded along silently—my loyal dog, as usual, not a word spoken.
Outside, Spike o Sensei let out a mighty creak, thorns glinting dangerously in the dim light.
"Baraggan's time isn't over," I warned my crew as we disappeared into the distance. "But for now… we live to be idiots another day."
And hey — if doing idiot stuff gave me up to 500,000 EP a pop, then evolution to Arrancar? Just a matter of time.
I grinned beneath my mask and thought, Let's get dumb.