Boom—
The sky-shaking explosion split the heavens like a colossal axe striking through existence itself, its echo crashing into every heart with suffocating force. Terror surged through the ranks of Shinigami as a violent storm swept across the battlefield, the air itself roaring like a beast unleashed.
Another detonation followed, deafening and absolute. The pressure of the shockwave surpassed that of a Category Twelve hurricane, ripping the landscape apart.
A flash streaked across the shattered air—an elegant figure descending before the others. Her soft whisper came almost like a prayer.
"The proud son of heaven, the iron city wall, the dragon's walk, the lion's roar, the tiger's cry, the wolf's run—cut off the world before it collapses. Bakudō Number Eighty-One: Splitting Void."
A vast, transparent wall rose before the survivors, gleaming faintly like crystal under sunlight. The incoming surge of air crashed into it with thunderous force. The barrier held.
Everyone exhaled in relief. Many were wounded and drained; none could have withstood that blast. Without the sudden appearance of Splitting Void, they would have been swept away into the skies. None wanted to experience such helplessness again.
Grateful eyes turned toward the one standing before them—Unohana Retsu. Calm, poised, her gaze was not on the crowd behind her but fixed downward, toward the depths of the vast crater below.
The others followed her eyes.
There, at the bottom of the sinkhole, before the shadow that had devoured the sky, stood a solitary figure. The young man's form was motionless, a blade of immaculate craftsmanship resting in his grasp. Between that blade and the endless blackness before him stretched a single strand of pure white light.
It was thin, fragile—delicate as a cicada's wing. Against the darkness that blotted out the heavens, that sliver of light seemed like the weakest defense imaginable, just like the boy himself—frail, bloodstained, yet unyielding.
By sight alone, that white blade light wasn't even a fraction of the thickness of Unohana's Splitting Void. Yet, impossibly, that fragile brilliance stood unmoved before the abyssal shadow that sought to consume the world.
The all-consuming black light that had covered the sky and sun—stopped.
Stopped by that boy.
A stunned silence fell. Every breath was stolen. Even Aizen's smirk froze into stillness. His pupils constricted as his mind briefly failed to process what he saw.
"This… is his Shikai?"
The thought itself felt absurd, but it was all he could form. In the same instant, identical disbelief swept through every captain and seated officer.
Kyoraku Shunsui's eyes trembled with incredulity, his voice dry and hoarse. "That's… my junior's Shikai?"
Gasps rippled through the ranks. Every expression mirrored his—shocked beyond words, as though staring at something that should not exist.
No one could believe it. No one even dared imagine it.
That youth, facing an earth-splitting strike from Kurosaki Ichigo, had not used Bankai—only Shikai.
The realization struck like lightning. Not one word—no Bankai command—had left his lips. And yet, he stood unbroken.
Hearts hardened by centuries of battle quaked under the weight of revelation. They had always known Su Li was extraordinary, but this was something beyond the scope of genius or prodigy. No description could measure him now. Every estimation had always been too small.
He had blocked Kurosaki Ichigo's transcendent strike with nothing more than his Shikai.
A stunned, reverent silence blanketed the battlefield. Su Li stood still, hands gripping the blade, eyes fixed upon the shadow that loomed above him. The thin veil of white light before him resembled a wall of paper—fragile, motionless, yet utterly unshakable.
The tip of his sword tilted downward slightly. The wall of light thickened. Gasps broke the stillness as eyes widened in disbelief. The more his blade descended, the brighter and denser that radiance became.
Sensing the growing pressure, the black blade light above howled violently, its roar tearing through the sky. Yet no matter how fiercely it raged, it could not force the white brilliance back—not even an inch.
The white grew denser still, thickening into a solid wall, luminous and immovable. The balance began to shift.
"Oh my god—!" Omaeda's trembling voice cracked through the silence, his face red with shock. "God Su! He's… he's pushing it back!"
Sui-Feng's breath caught, her cheeks flushed as her eyes shone with disbelief. "A-Li…"
The coalition watched, spellbound, as the paper-thin light of a moment ago blazed like a rising sun, expanding against the oppressive shadow. Within that crater, a miracle unfolded.
Su Li stood within the storm, his blade and body perfectly aligned. His soul and his Zanpakutō had long since become one. He knew precisely what Xia Ji had done through all those years—turn black into white.
Within his inner world, once a vast void of consuming darkness, Xia Ji had spent centuries biting, dissolving, and transforming it piece by piece until only pure light remained.
Now, before him, another black world stood waiting to be devoured.
Su Li drew a breath and tightened his grip upon the hilt. His voice resonated not outward, but inward—straight into the heart of his blade.
"Let's go… Do what you do best."
The Zanpakutō shivered with a clear, ringing cry in response.
In that moment, man and sword became indistinguishable. The white jade blade fell.
BOOM!
A light of unbearable brilliance surged outward. The sky, once drowned in black, erupted into radiance. Every trace of gloom was purged in an instant.
The watchers stared, stunned. At the collision's core, the black blade light began to bleach—its darkness turning translucent, then pure. It spread like ink reversing upon paper, transforming shadow into light with seamless grace.
In mere moments, countless black currents dissolved into shining white streams. The roles between heaven and earth reversed. No longer did the black blade light reign supreme.
Now, the heavens belonged to white.
A light that had begun as fragile as a whisper now spanned the horizon like an avalanche of purity, surging through the remnants of darkness and tearing them apart. The black tide broke like a retreating army, scattering before the advance of dawn.
Within seconds, the entire sky changed color. The world was washed in white.
Kurosaki Ichigo stared blankly, his pupils trembling, unable to comprehend what unfolded before him. His Getsuga Tenshō, the culmination of three months of relentless cultivation and the sacrifice of his Shinigami powers—his final "Moonless" strike—was crumbling before his eyes.
The world grew bright, yet his heart sank into darkness.
"Wooo…" The gale's cry twisted around the onrushing white blade light as it barreled toward him.
Just moments ago, it had been Ichigo's attack that swept forward; now, the situation had reversed entirely.
For the onlookers, the emotions were tangled beyond words. Ichigo had slashed at Su Li. That Su Li now returned a blade—it seemed only balance. Yet could Ichigo withstand such divine force?
The answer was written on Kurosaki Isshin's face, pale and horrified.
Before he could even shout, the white blade light that devoured the sky had already reached Ichigo. The youth's eyes widened, and for the first time, fear flickered within them as the brilliance swallowed his vision whole.
{🥳 The Fanfic is now fully completed! 🎉
You can access 300+ advance chapters right now on Patreon—available for subscription or purchase! ✨
👉 patreon.com/Oreski
🥰 Your support keeps me motivated and eager to create even more amazing stories!}