A fist flew towards the Hollow-Neppa's face. It was wreathed in a purple nimbus and had enough force behind it to splinter a tree into toothpicks. As it connected, Hollow-Neppa's grasp weakened and eventually let go of Neppa's collar to keep his bearings.
"Oh ho ho! Apparently there still is some fight left in you! I will relish this." The words were filled with what seemed like utter extacy, enjoying the fight for the body more than actually obtaining it.
Neppa stood and glared back at this monster that he found within himself. Was this really a part of him? It was hard for him to think of this beast as such, but then where did that primal ferocity he was known for in combat come from? There apparently is a fine line between being a Hollow and not being a Hollow. It was time to embrace this line.
Neppa was the first to act, charging in and summoning Netsujyoubi to his hand in one fluid motion. A downward clash was first, both holding their ground that was all to familiar to both of the Neppa's.
The fight lasted on, swords clashing, sparks flying, earth falling, destruction everywhere. But as the fight continued, the world around them seemed to calm down, much like the eye of the storm. There was a certain clearness that Neppa found in combat, and apparently the Hollow inside him knew it too. With what looked to be a misstep, the Hollow-Neppa took a gash across the waist, followed by a cleave into his shoulder, felling him to a kneel. Now Neppa was back in charge.
As the Hollow did before, Neppa grabbed his copy by the collar.
"It seems that you are the pathetic ones by your standards. But that would only be calling myself that," Neppa spoke back. With a quick headbutt, he threw his Hollow to the ground. "You are a part of me, and always have been. If realizing that is a step on the path to power, then so be it, I'll use the whole of my essence to pay the justice that need be carried."
The volcano was now quiet, the torrents of magma calming to their normal streams. There was no more fire in the sky, no more falling rocks, though there were still jet black pillars sticking out from the lava. His work was done, his power now gained. All that was left was to sharpen it.
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As his power increased, the more of his body turned to bone, the more the kidou bent and broke. Eventually, it was torn asunder, the metal bars broken into fragments, the cloth ripped to dissipating shreds, a ghastly howl released to be heard for miles.
But all was not lost. As the creature's last howl subsided, the bone that had grown into plates and spikes began to crack. First the shoulders, the spikes cracking and bouncing down, followed by the plates sloughing off. Next his arms and legs, breaking into two pieces each, like removing armour from a knight, crumbling into a fine powder mid air. All that remained were his bony hands and his mask, the accentuated skull, his red hair falling over the left side. The once blank eyes now retained the sentience and viciousness that the owner of the body possessed. With his left hand, he took the bottom of the mask from under the chin and ripped it upwards, like one taking off a hood. As it left his face, the bones on his hands crumbled away, but the mask remained in his hand. He stared at the mask for a short time. Was this his inner self, or his new one? A blank faced, soulless judge of the damned?
Apparently it was so.
