Bleach: The Shinigami’s Zanpakutō That Unleashed Bankai On Its Own

{🥳Joining Patreon keeps me motivated and eager to work diligently, so please support me.🥰 You can access upto 30+ advance chapter through Patreon by using the link: https://patreon.com/Oreski}

The bluish-white blade fell. There was no flash, no quake—only silence. Yet in that quiet, everything had already changed.

The Menos Grande stood motionless, its towering frame still and eyes narrowed with relief. Its blood-colored gaze scanned its own body, finding no visible wound. Then, without warning, its bloodlust surged again. Spiritual pressure blasted skyward, wild and violent, as the Hollow roared and charged straight at Moyu, claws raised to crush.

But just as those claws neared Moyu's skull, the world halted. The air stopped moving. Time froze. The claw—mere inches from its mark—hung suspended midair.

"It's over," Moyu said calmly, Lanyin reverting to its sealed form in his hand as he quietly sheathed it.

"Why is there never pure trust between Shinigami and Hollow?" he muttered, and the faint click of his sword locking into the scabbard echoed in the hushed forest. That single sound became the last warning the Menos would ever receive.

Then came a breeze.

Not from the sky, not through the trees—but from within the Hollow's own massive frame. The Menos blinked in confusion, searching for the source. Its instincts screamed, but it was already too late. Moyu turned away, expression neutral, footsteps light as he walked deeper into the forest, still searching for Unohana Retsu. He didn't look back. He didn't need to.

The Menos's fate had already been sealed the moment his Shikai was uttered. Dalan has no wind—because it severs the source of breath itself. If you feel the wind, death has already arrived.

From the outside, the Menos seemed untouched. But inside, razor-thin red lines traced across its body as faint wisps of blue-white wind leaked through the cracks. In the span of a breath, the Hollow's enormous body was silently torn apart from within. There was no scream, no resistance. Its spiritual particles dissolved, vanishing like smoke into the sky. Not a drop of blood was shed.

A captain-class Menos Grande—erased without ceremony.

Moyu's Shikai had not gone unnoticed. Even from kilometers away, Yamada Seinosuke and the emergency rescue team felt its force. The forest might have been vast, but no terrain was wide enough to muffle a release like that.

When the Menos's Cero first surged, many squad members had already begun retreating, others scanning terrain for escape. Yet before a single step could be taken, a spiraling gust tore through the battlefield. A storm rose from the earth, cleaved through the sky, and devoured the Cero in a single breath.

They didn't even have time to process it.

"What... was that?" someone finally whispered.

"It felt... familiar... like..."

"That was Moyu's Shikai?" The thought drifted silently among them. No one dared say it aloud.

He was a recent graduate, an Academy elite—but that pressure, that stillness—it didn't just feel like Shikai. It felt like the precursor to a Bankai.

Then came the silence. The Menos Grande's Reiatsu didn't fade or retreat. It vanished—completely, as if it had been erased by an unseen hand.

"The battle's... over?"

"He did it alone? He killed that thing?"

"This world's playing tricks on us, right?"

Their disbelief was a shared silence, broken only when Yamada Seinosuke issued a single order.

"Go. Investigate the site."

They hesitated, but obeyed.

After several kilometers, they found it.

The battlefield was unrecognizable. What should have been dense forest had been reduced to scorched ruin. Waves of torn earth stretched before them like a natural disaster had struck—massive ridges, craters gouged into the soil, splintered trees fused with ash, all steeped in lingering spiritual residue.

No trace of the Menos remained.

No blood.

No body.

Just an open grave of silence and power.

They stared wordlessly at the destruction, trying to reconstruct what could have happened. But no theory could justify this level of devastation. No Kidō. No technique.

This was not a duel.

It was execution.

Kuchiki Moyu had walked into the jaws of a captain-class Hollow and reduced it to nothing. Not in desperation. Not in fury.

With precision. With ease. With silence.

Whatever rank the Gotei had assigned him no longer mattered.

He no longer walked the same plane as them.

{ Enjoying the chapters? Please Support me on Patreon and unlock 30+ advanced chapters, with 3 new chapters released every two days!

The fanfic is also available for one-time purchase on Patreon – unlock lifetime access to the full collection, no membership needed! Don't miss out –support and own it forever!

patreon.com/Oreski}