Zingar had been training in the Menos Forest when he got the summons. "Me? But why?" He thought when he realized what had been asked of him. The Cero King himself had requested his presence. Thousands of questions ran through his head and especially a flash to the grand meeting when Gill had "challenged" the Cero King. That tremendous pressure alone was enough to make Zingar's body tingle in fear. As he made his way back to Los Noches he prepared a few possible scenarios.

Graven could want to kill him. If this were to be the case there was next to nothing Zingar could do next to nothing about it. The Cero King was leagues above him in strength and could probably even kill him by just exerting his spiritual pressure. Since there was nothing to be done about that, however, he pushed this possibility to the side.

Maybe he had a mission for Zingar. Then again the question was posed, why him? There were plenty others the King could have called upon for a mission. It could be that Zingar's training had finally been noticed and it was a test. These were the thoughts that raced through his mind as he opened the gate into the Cero King's chamber.

He took a few steps forward before kneeling to Graven. "You sent for me my Lord?"

The King was waiting for Zingar in was appeared to be a well-appointed sitting room, blacks and reds accenting the white present throughout Las Noches. Once the younger Arrancar opened the door, walking forward and kneeling in front of him, the Cero's attention would be brought to him instead of his own thoughts. The blue-haired male was fairly polite, considering the seemingly-random summons, and from the light scent of blood and sweat in the air he had been training when he had been called. Perfect. His usual monotone would spread throughout the room, regal, bored and almost unnaturally deep. "Yes, I did. Rise, Zingar, and have a seat."

The wolf-like Arrancar gestured to another chair nearby, and poured a two glasses of red wine. Taking one for himself, he'd lift an eyebrow pointedly at Zingar until he took the other. Sipping the sweet drink, the God of Hollows would ponder his words before speaking. "It's come to my attention that you have been training diligently. Tell me, how do you think you would stack up against my Espada?"

At Graven's command Zingar brought himself up from kneeling. As the Cero was pouring himself a glass of wine the blue-haired arrancar examined the room. It was rather large with a mainly black and red color scheme outside the obviously white nature of Los Noches's design. As he was seating himself he took the glass of wine. It was not his favorite drink, but it enjoyed partaking in a glass of wine when it was appropriate. Was this one of those times? It was still perplexing the young arrancar as to the nature of the summons.

It was completely shrouded in mystery until the God of Hollows spoke again. The question was posed as a comparison of strength of Zingar against, presumably, the higher ranking members of the Espada. What a question, Zingar had not pondered it himself. He took a moment to ponder it. What the Cero King had mentioned was true, he was diligent in his training. There were many days he lived in the Menos Forest just in a near constant state of battle. There were probably hundreds of hollows he had killed and consumed for strength. His power was a far cry from what it was in the meeting, but to take on an Espada member himself? He doubt he could make a decisive victory.

He took a drink of the wine before responding. "I have been training diligently, but I doubt I could make any kind of decisive victory over any of the ranked members." The draconian arrancar closed his eyes for a moment attempting to envision the scenario. "Hmm I might be able to best Ana now, however, we did have a little bout before."

Chuckling slightly at the reference to Zingar's duel with his Fraccion, Graven took another sip of the wine before nodding. "You are modest, and realistic. It is rare to find those with such qualities among the ranks. Your assessment about Ana is intriguing as well, as she is at a level where she is able to keep up with Shinigami Captains...Very well."]

Shifting his wolf-like eyes to his fellow Arrancar, the King studied him for a moment before speaking once more. "Zingar, as of this moment you are being promoted to the position of Nuveno Espada. You shall be granted all the rights of your new rank, including a palace of your own and the privilege of taking on Fraccion if you so wish. Continue your training, grow stronger, and perhaps you may yet rise even higher. Now, each of the Espada have a tattoo denoting their rank. Where would you like yours to be?"

As if to give weight to the decision, and prove what he had said, a stark black "0" peaked out of Graven's robes on his right pectoral, Gothic in design and burned into his flesh.

The Cero Espada had graciously decided to give Zingar a new title. Zingar the Nuveno Espada. He thought about it for a moment. The arrancar had many questions for his king but it would be best not to have a barrage of questions immediately after his decree. The focus of his attention should go on answering Graven's question, intricacies could be thought about later. His immediate reaction would be to attempt to mimic the Cero King's marking placement. "No, that would be tacky and cause me to lose my individuality."

"Your majesty, I want to first thank you on such a promotion. I will accept such a responsibility and use it to aid in the advancement of all hollows." He said as he raised his glass of wine a little into the air. "Now as for the tattoo..." Zingar pulled his right sleeve up slightly to show the rest of his arm. Slightly flexing his bicep he spoke to his king. "I think here is appropriate." He thought this would symbolize the strength, the strength he currently possess and the strength yet to come.

Nodding once to his subordinate's vow, Graven's eyes looked over the spot he had chosen for his brand. Reaching up, the Cero Espada would bite his index finger, allowing blood to flow and drew the marking upon the younger Arrancar's bicep. This wasn't, of course, the end of the process. "Grit your teeth, and try not to bite off your tongue, Zingar."

Snapping his fingers, the King would charge the blood left on his new Nuveno with a Cero, the scent of burnt flesh filling the room as the energy dug it's way into the newest Espada's arm. After a moment, the pain would subside, the blood evaporating and leaving a stark black "9" in it's place. Finishing his glass of wine, Graven would stand, offering his hand to Zingar. "Congratulations, my dear Espada. I hope you'll continue to make me proud, and grow stronger. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few other things to take care of. Please, forgive me. My schedule is a bit tighter than I'd like, but it's all important business."

Once he'd shaken his newest Espada's hand, the King would walk further into his palace, plans to cement Hollows as an enduring civilization running through his mind.

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Sitting slightly confused on the processes of receiving his brand, Zingar watched his Cero King cause himself to draw blood. Graven then proceeded to paint a "9" on his bicep. That much made sense, then he continued the process by carving in his arm the nine with a cero. The new Nuveno Espada grit his teeth with the pain from the cero coursing through his whole body. Although Zingar had been training himself to take mighty blows this pain was still felt. After all, it was the God of the Hollows branding him.

Just like a king who wants change should, Graven had a busy schedule ahead of him. The Nuveno understood and stood to take the hand of his king. He nodded his head showing his understanding of the situation. "Thank you again your majesty, we will work for the benefit of all hollows. I should get going as well." After speaking his line Zingar would leave from the same entrance he came. He entered the door as a simple fraccion, but exited them as the Nuveno Espada.

[Thread End]