Fangs of the Night – Bankai Awakens
The cold winds of the Soul Society howled through the training grounds of Squad 11 as Harry stood alone, his blade planted firmly in the ground before him. His breath was steady, his reiatsu thrumming around him like a heartbeat.
It had been three years since he first heard his zanpakutō’s name.
"Howl, Ōkami no Yoru."
That name had changed everything. His Shikai granted him enhanced speed and reflexes, as if he became one with the night itself. When he fought, he was a blur—a shadowy wolf striking with deadly precision.
But it wasn’t enough.
In Squad 11, power was everything, and Bankai was the final step toward true dominance. Only the strongest wielded it. And Harry was ready.
But unlocking a Bankai wasn’t simple. It required not just mastery over one’s sword, but a battle of wills—a fight to dominate the spirit within.
And so, Harry descended into his inner world, stepping into the mindscape where his zanpakutō spirit resided.
The Trial of the Wolf King
When Harry opened his eyes, he stood in a vast snow-covered forest under a blood-red moon. Towering trees stretched endlessly in every direction, their gnarled branches swaying in an unseen wind.
In the distance, a pair of golden eyes gleamed in the darkness.
Then, from the shadows, a massive wolf emerged.
Its fur was black as midnight, streaked with silver, its form both regal and monstrous. The beast circled him, its deep growl reverberating through the frozen air.
"You have grown strong, pup," the wolf rumbled, its voice ancient and powerful. "But strength alone is not enough. You seek my true name, yet you have not earned it."
Harry’s grip tightened on his sword. “Then I’ll prove myself.”
The wolf’s fangs gleamed. "Show me."
In an instant, the beast lunged.
Harry barely had time to react as claws slashed through the air, his instincts screaming as he dodged. He countered with his blade, striking fast, but the wolf vanished in a blur, reappearing behind him.
A crushing force slammed into his back, sending him skidding across the icy ground.
Blood dripped from his lip. He had faced Voldemort, Hollows, even Kenpachi himself—but nothing compared to this. His own zanpakutō spirit was testing him, pushing him to the edge.
He refused to lose.
With a roar, Harry unleashed his full reiatsu, his green eyes blazing. He moved like a phantom, dodging the wolf’s attacks and countering with deadly precision. Each strike of his sword howled like the wind, resonating with his soul.
The battle raged until they were both bloodied and breathless.
Then, the wolf stopped. It laughed—a deep, echoing sound that shook the forest.
"You finally understand."
The beast stepped forward, lowering its head so that its golden eyes met Harry’s.
"I am not your enemy. I am your fangs, your instincts, your unbreakable will. Speak my true name, and take what is yours."
The name rose in his mind, burning into his very soul.
Harry gripped his sword, breathing hard, and whispered:
“Bankai… Ōkami no Taitei.” (Emperor of the Night Wolves.)
The moment the words left his lips, the world shattered.
The Birth of a New Emperor
In the real world, the ground shook as a massive wave of black and silver energy erupted from Harry’s body.
Squad 11 members, gathered nearby, turned in shock as his reiatsu surged, unlike anything they had ever felt. Even Kenpachi, watching from the distance, grinned with intrigue.
Harry stood at the center of it all, his form changed.
His haori had turned into a black, fur-lined coat, its edges shimmering with silver light. His sword had transformed into two black-bladed katana, each humming with an eerie, howling wind. And behind him, the spectral image of a colossal wolf loomed, its golden eyes blazing with power.
He exhaled slowly, the air crackling around him.
This was his Bankai. His ultimate power.
He had not just unlocked his Bankai.
He had become the Visored Wolf King.
And the Soul Society would never be the same.
To be continued...