Mission Sunagakure Presents: Two Kings Part 1 - Rise of the Barons [A-Rank Modded Team Mission]

The passage to the surface was always nerve-racking. The elevator like shoot that carried Shin and his makeshift team of at least one other Jounin and some shinobi of lower ranks caught by on his way to the trek up, jerked and jostled with the sounds of a dying titan. The sharp smell of rust and Sunan oil dilled the air.

It wasnt until the steel doors opened before them did Shin see the results of the attack. He could see the crater before he smelled it.

Ten minutes wasn’t long enough for the desert to reclaim what had happened here. The blast had cut deep into the earth, ripping a crater out of the dunes and exposing jagged rock. Shin let his eyes roam the edges first, cataloging each detail and committing it to memory.

Shin raised his hand to a half bird seal to activate his Mind Thread Jutsu, sharing his thoughts with everyone that joined him at the surface.

`Crater, radius thirty meters, depth ten. Edges collapsed inward, secondary shifts in sand after impact. Likely shaped charge blast based on the shape of the impact zone and lack of debris. `

He stepped closer, grieves sinking into the very sand itself. The heat shimmered off blackened stones, glassy shards glinted where sand had been flash-fused. The smell wasn’t fire, not exactky. There was no soot, no char, but rather it smelled of something acidic, chemical. Controlled detonation, maybe? Someone knew exactly how to mask their signature.

`Residual heat detected, blast no more than fifteen minutes old. `

Shin reached up and touched the air. He rubbed his gauntleted fingers together. The softest sound of residual dust in the air was heard by his trained ears.

`There's a fine particulate haze in the air, makes it an inhalation hazard, masks recommended if you have them. `

His gaze traced outward now, following the ripples in the dunes where the shockwave had rolled. Patterns were uneven, staggered, not natural collapse, but deliberate shaping. Whoever did this knew the terrain as well as any shinobi born here.

`Outer dunes fractured to the southeast. I can onlh assume this blast was channelled. Sole Purpose: block tunnel access, force surface exposure. `

Shin crouched at the rim, fingertips brushing over a shard of melted quartz. Still warm. His ears picked up only wind, no birds, no insects, just the defining hum of silence stretching too far in every direction.

`No scavenger activity. It's unnaturally quiet. I'm assuming whoever did this is still here, lingering about. This may have been a lure into an ambush. Stay alert. `

His eyes lingered on faint grooves carved into the sand at the far side of the crater, shallow, overlapping, curving toward nowhere. He straightened, exhaled slow, and glanced back toward the shinobi filing out behind him. Half rookies, half veterans. Every one of them waiting for orders.

"Break off into small teams, Epsilon Formation if possible, no one is to go alone. "

His eyes surveyed the area. He looked to the highest dune he could find before making a single handseal, causing a large flower to grow and bloom. It stood five meters tall with a sharp contrasting blueish violet hue. His anchor was set. He turned to look at the crew.

"If you can see my Orchid, I will be able to hear any thoughts you send my way. Avoid headset traffic between teams in case this is a set up, we dont want their network to pick up our radio waves. If you cant see my Orchid I cannot guarantee your safety.

Am I clear? "He says firmly.

after confirming with those with he he nods.

"You have thirty minutes before I expect you all to be here. Don't dissappear, don’t disappoint, don't die. "

A path filled in darkness, leading double lives… That was a path of the ANBU, one that Ryota was currently walking. He learned by then that people were often scouted a lot earlier than he was, but he wasn’t alone. He remembered those few lessons while still being in the academy at other times. Double live. He had calmed down a lot when wearing the ANBU mask, masking his personality, but for a teen, that was sometimes troublesome. In his past squad, he was often already a lonewolf. Walking alone and not caring much for others.


Now he stood there, not as the AiT that met this very man, but a regular Genin… At least that was the alternative rank he had besides it. He looked to the man as they went up the elevator. He would 100% recognize Ryota in his ANBU gear, at least if this man had paid attention to that.

Ryota’s eyes would go everywhere once they saw the outside. “Dayum..” He whispered and looked at the crater. On the sudden thought transfer, Ryota wasn’t entirely prepared. He shifted his body away from this man, looking at him. 'Creepy dude in my mind…' he just simply thought while trying to ‘listen’ to the things he said.


He did a lot of stuff in such a short time, so he knew he was lacking something. He didn’t even notice, despite his keen smell, that there was something wrong with the air. He did listen to the man and would grab his air purifier and start to breathe from his mouth instead of his nose. It was a special filter system created by his roommate.

Carefully, Ryota would move a little around, sick of waiting, and let this person do all the work. He activated his byakkugan and looked around a little. ’ Testing one.. two.. three… I think this is on. So I don’t see anything?’ He thought, not sure even if it did or didn’t reach Shin.


Ryota wanted to preserve some of his chakra, so he undid his eyes before he heard the man speak instead of mind talk no jutsu. “Small teams, huh.. damnit,” he scoffed a little and would wait to see if anyone was willing to go with him. He looked at the orchid that he saw growing. ’ I don’t like this flower boy…’ He hated flowers, sorry to everyone who loves them. He would nod once he heard that the question was clear, and wait for someone to come to him to start searching. They had 30 minutes and no headset.

Shin’s gaze cut briefly toward Ryota as the faint echo of the younger shinobi’s thoughts rippled across the Mind Thread. His expression didn’t shift, the wind still combed across his golden hair, his blue eyes unreadable, but the mental channel tightened like a wire pulled taut.

`Testing confirmed. And I can hear you just fine, Ryota.`

The words weren’t sharp, but they carried a cool weight, the same way stone from the Undersea carried the cool touch long after they were pulled from the icy blue waters.

`Your Byakugan will be useful here. I’m sending you southeast along the outer fracture lines. You’ll need to sweep two hundred meters out. The dunes there don't appear to be natural. Their edges seem to have a ripple pattern, perhaps shallow enough to be deliberate. Whoever shaped this blast likely carved vents just beneath the surface.`

Shin’s eyes tracked the distance as he spoke mind-to-mind, following the invisible line that led toward the broken horizon.

`You’re looking for any rise or depression in the sand that feels… too even, too perfect. Heat that shimmers but doesn’t match the sun’s arc. Threadlike cracks in the sandstone beneath the moving grains. Don’t approach it by yourself, there's a good chance there's more charges out there. If you can't find a safe way to investigate, mark them from a safe distance.`

A pause settled in the woven Mind Thread network, not long enough to suggest hesitation, but long enough to give weight to what came next.

`This detonation is too precise for a random strike. I believe this was a test. They’re learning where the load points are in our tunnel network. If the enemy is able to plant charges along the correct arteries and fire them in sequence…`

There was a slight pause.

`Suna’s underground population could suffocate before anyone made it to the breach.`

For just a breath, Shin’s mind flickered with an image, a fleeting impression shared through the Mind Thread without meaning to.
Darkness pressing against carved sandstone. Dust billowing in thin shafts of light. The feeling of pressure on your lungs and the haziness of detail fading from a line of sight. In this mere second, the sensation of suffocating to death in the underground Hidden Village would fill the minds of any shinobi connected to Shin.

`If that happens, it will start here.`

The calm in his mental voice felt unnatural against the image he’d projected.

`Which means they are still close. Close enough to watch us fan out. Close enough to trigger the rest if they choose.`

He shifted, his boots pressing into the soft edge of the crater until the sand sighed under his weight. “I need a Four-Man squad. You three, go with the Toraono, focus on guarding him. As of this moment, Ryota, you are promoted to Chūnin Captain. And as for your specialized training, consider that completed as you are officially acknowledged as a fully fledged member of Sunagakure's Outer Circle of Defense. This will be your first mission as squad captain in the realm of Counter-Terrorism and Defense. Don't disappoint me or Lord 13.” Shin ordered aloud, the sound sharp enough to carry. He grinned and tapped his temple, acknowledging that he knows who Ryota is. Shin was the Kazekage afterall and if the ANBU are one thing, it is the private army of the Kage in power. “Low profile. No noise, no light signals, and masks on. Any movement, you send it straight to me,” `not the radios. Assume they’re listening.`

Shin clearly spoke with intent. The goal was to be heard by any spies who may be watching this exchange. His eyes roamed wide.

As he turned toward the far rim, the wind carried another clue. Faint. Almost nothing. But to someone who lived their life in the underground, it was impossible to ignore, a dull, rhythmic pulse beneath the sand, spaced like footsteps in a slow march. Too deep for casual patrols. Too steady to be the shifting of dunes.

Another shinobi stepped beside Shin and placed her hands on the ground, triggering a tremorsense ability she had.

`If you feel that vibration, stop moving. Count it. If the spacing is uniform, you’re tracking a unit underground. If it breaks rhythm, you’ve found a tunnel collapse or a concealed shaft. Either way, mark it.`

Shin nodded at the Kunoichi before looking out to the rest of the squads. He would point at some of the makeshift groups before gesturing and instructing them to head out in different directions. In total there were only about five squads formed.

The Orchid bloomed high and violet-blue against the endless gold, its petals trembling in the heat shimmer. “Thirty minutes,” Shin said without looking back. “Don’t disappear. Don’t disappoint. Don’t die.”

Shin raised his hand in a classic Shinobi Captain way which triggered most, if not all, of the teams to spread out and begin to look for their clues to relay back to central command, which at this point was the standing 12th Kazekage.

The Overseer moved along the rim without waiting for their responses, already marking his own route toward the northern edge, where the dune crests seemed a little too perfect for nature’s hand. Time was bleeding away, and the desert was not patient.

[OoC: This is overdue, but as of Suna's rulings found here, once a Genin/AiT reaches S-Rank they are auto-promoted up to Chūnin/ANBU! I do not know your Main Branch Rank, but regardless, if it wasn't at least Chūnin it is now! also, the reference to the circle of defense is a reference to the Branch Logos: Medical in Inner Line of Defense, Main is Central Line of Defense, and ANBU is Outer Line of Defense as shown via the thin circle on their logos.]

MFT 250+

It seemed like the other could hear him without problem, just now he wondered how muhc the other exactly had already heard. The teen first thought of that, but then soon started to shrug it off. ’ Southeast… Make notes of anything not natural in the sands. Roger that, sir.’ He wanted to start to move, but then heard the others' voices in his head once more.

He listened to the other, mentioning that this wasn’t something random… And it was one of the doubts that were on Ryota’s mind, also. He tried to recite the underground network and where this place would be, but without his map, it was quite hard. “Should have packed it…” he muttered and would crouch down to the sand, feeling with the palm of his hand to judge the temperature of it.


The scene that he saw a moment later made his neck hairs stand straight up. The scene he saw through the mean person was so real. That the goosebumps spread. A place without a home, where a lot ofpeople would die, shinobi and non-shinobi. His cat. Oh hell naw, no one touched his cat. A glare was shot as he looked at Shin. That. was. rude… that was pretty f–king rude meme like.

“I need a Four-Man squad. You three, go with the Toraono, focus on guarding him. As of this moment, Ryota, you are promoted to Chūnin Captain. And as for your specialized training, consider that completed as you are officially acknowledged as a fully fledged member of Sunagakure's Outer Circle of Defense. This will be your first mission as squad captain in the realm of Counter-Terrorism and Defense. Don't disappoint me or Lord 13.”

His eyes widened, his mouth wanted to drop, and he wanted to refuse and go against it. because after all, that meant more work, more responsibility, and a whole lot more. Think about the pranks, he wasn’t going to be able to do them… Wait, that meant that he had access to places he did not have before. Poor Uzu.. But then, he saw the gesture from Shin. Internal panic was happening. He knew! He had blown it, as Shin figured out. Then he knew it was him back then there too, and that means he knew that he was the Toraono that… Oh boy. This. It was going to become interesting.


The next shinobi got to the front and did something with fibrations… This he didn’t take that much heed to it.. As he could see a lot anyways, but not knowing he would dramatically underestimate that later.


“Yes, sir,” were the words leaving the male before he would head towards the southeast with the small group. He was walking rather casually as if this were just an everyday stroll. He looked towards the side where he saw the group being all tied up and nervous, and Ryota shrugged his shoulders. They had to remain silent right no,w and that was exactly as he was going to do.

About ten minutes in with the scanning, he noticed the vibrations being different. “...?” He tilted his head and pointed to the ground, where the rest instantly noticed it now too. ’ Uhm.. Shin… sir.. what if I have a whole lot of readings here…?’ This feeling was something even he was getting goosebumps by. ’ Sand uneven, and… uhm. It looks like a baby worm, but with a wire..? But.. uhm. I don’t see many readings coming from it.’ He wasn’t scared, but he did feel uneasy. Getting closer to it he kept being very careful, silent steps which sank in the sand. The group did the same as they closed in.


’ It… Really looks like a baby worm, what do you think they are planning with this?’


[ooc: Accept it =) ]
MFT: 250+

In a sudden swirl of sand that coiled like shadows fleeing a hunter’s gaze, Akkuma materialized beside one of his Kazekage, Chikamatsu Shin. His Shadow Step Jutsu [Mastered] was a silent, near instantaneous technique. Utilizing an almost predatory glide of movement that wove him through the desert’s breath. Emerging from the gritty haze with the effortless menace of a serpent sliding from its lair. He was a striking figure in the Sunan sun; a mature, lean-muscled warrior with an un-aging, possessing an unyielding almost inevitable presence, his long white hair cascading like a silver shroud, framing a face that seemed untouched by time yet etched with the weight of centuries.

Those crimson red eyes of his glowed with an unholy hunger, piercing the haze. While his dark, lightly armoured outfit was adorned with intricate buckles & a flowing cape that clung to his form like a second skin. In this moment exuding both elegance & menace. It would be hard to recall a time when he looked less like a War-Lord than he did now. He knelt low, fingers slithering through the warm, disrupted grains; each particle clung to his skin like prey caught in a web, their acrid sting whispering of calculated ruin. The sensation curled through him, a delicious echo of chaos that quickened his pulse to that of a normal human: not with fear, but with the thrill of a predator scenting blood.

"Intriguing...Shin," Akkuma purred, his voice a silken drawl laced with venom. Pausing as if savouring the metallic tang that danced on his tongue, a prelude to the carnage he sensed brewing. "This crater... it’s no mere wound. It’s a challenge, carved to test our veins." His crimson eyes gleamed, sharp as a blade’s edge, as he tilted his head with deliberate theatrics, letting the silence coil. 'If they seek to choke Sunagakure with sequential charges, as you suspect, we’ll turn their precision into their noose.' he would think to his Kazekage as the mind made connection, thanks to the Mind Thread technique employed by Shin. His lips curled into a serpentine smirk, revealing his shark-like teeth. All while his thoughts began slithering through contingencies, like a chessboard only he could see.

'We'll need to rely on the Toraono & their sub-branches heavily. Members of their Oushi-Ouja branch can utilise their abilities to raise Earthborn-like enclosures, their stone walls unyielding against potential breaches. Deploy Sunaku scouts to slink through the dunes, their sand manipulation veiling their steps to avoid tracking. While using their control of the sands to unearth hidden charges safely or spies without a trace. We utilise the Tsuchimakado of the village & Yamanaka members of the Chikamatsu. Have them weave wards & craft talismans to lash out with illusory torments at any who dare touch our tunnels. For their scouts that make it through? We have squads on standby made up of the Toraono branch Hyou’s members with Nara-like abilities, along with our Senju, Kyoujouran, Chikamatsu & Sunaku clan members that specialise in clones & the various creation techniques. Phantoms to bait their eyes while Kyoujouran Tremor Sense maps their every misstep before they can strike.' Having calculated a potential contingency in a matter of moments, it was no wonder the Sage was regarded as such a dangerous individual. His shared thoughts & observations on the matter ending there for now. Leaving us to wonder what else might be going on in that mind of his.

Rising with the languid grace of a predator who knows the kill is assured. Akkuma’s crimson gaze was alight with a hunger that bordered on unholy, sweeping the expanse like a sovereign surveying his battlefield. The crater gaped like a maw begging for secrets, its edges fraying under the sun’s merciless glare. While the violet-blue orchid that was Shin stood defiant, its petals trembling as if privy to the desert’s unease. His eyes lingered on the various squads & the Epsilon Formation they had been ordered to move in. Their staggered lines a fragile tapestry of caution & coordination; effective, yet he noted a few rookies drifting too far from their veterans, tempting the jaws of the unseen.

Ryota’s team to the southeast moved with a casual swagger that amused him. Their captain’s nonchalance a mask for coiled tension, eyes flicking for anomalies in the rippled dunes. The faint vibrations pulsed beneath his boots, a rhythmic heartbeat that stirred a chuckle low in his throat, as if the earth itself conspired with him. They marked vents with care, wise to avoid rash moves, but Akkuma wondered if they sensed the grander design: the silence that hung too heavy, a stage set for unseen watchers.

His smirk widened, flashing those shark-like teeth that promised ruin. Veiled by the shadows playing across his face, due to the angle of the sun & his hair. This was no isolated affront; it bore the mark of deeper machinations & he relished the unravelling of such things.

[Word Count: 800+]
[OOC: Topic Entered; Sorry on the delay! Shadow Step Mastered used for entrance. Accepted Mind Thread. Referenced a couple clan's/branches that I could think of for the contingency quickly. (Couldn't remember if Suna's Kyoujouran's were Kyoujourans or another name flavour wise.) Gimme a poke if I missed or forgot something. ^_^
(Okay made one quick little edit already xD Edit Count: 1)

Shin took a steadying breath. There was an aura he could feel. Sickening and cursed, a general presence that would have drained life away from anyone weaker. Turning to look to his side he would see the last man he wanted to. They hadn't spoke since everything went down, not since Shin was weak and losing his mind. Shin was still just a shell, a fragment of who he once was, and with Akkuma standing here he felt even more so like a shadow of the man he once was.

The Dark Sage would be able to sense the fear growing inside of Shin and the increased heart rate that came with doubt.

"It's good to see you, Sennin-sama." Shin said aloud.

Shin let that title linger in the air. As of the decree of the last Kazekage, the position he once held no longer carries weight. Standing beside the sand demon himself, Shin was technically no more than a medical. The Sennin controlled the village now and Shin would technically be no different than any other Jounin that was present.

His eyes looked forward some as various reports were being relayed to his location and redistributed back out. He was acting like a switch board, intaking and processing units of information. Deciphering what was worth keeping and what was worth disregarding. But as he did he could feel the scope of his Mind Thread Jutsu growing larger and larger.

Tension began to build up in his mind as Akkuma's commands were channeled out and spread amongst the shinobi of our village. Shin would start sensing the emotions of those around him, and unfortunately the untested Genin and Chuunin grew with fear as the fabled Akkuma arrived.

Taking command as he did would mean that this was no longer just an information gathering mission, but rather something more.

"Allow me to grant you a better view."

As he spoke his physical form would burst with red and blue chakra infused flames. His sapphire eyes would begin to glow with a familiar strength as his body began to become one with the Natural Energy of the Desert. Shin's Bird Sage Mode would take on full effect and as such his magnificent phoenix wings would sprout from his back in all of their ethereal glory.

A single beat of his wings would launch the armored knight high above the sky, soaring above the dunes that ebbed and flowed with the beating heart of Mother Suna. He truly looked like an angel above the village he swore to protect but nearly destroyed. His eyes looked around and as he did other large orchids would begin to grow across the sandy scape. Placing [Anchors] scattered about for all to see he would push harder into the perspective of those around him. He would relay information back down to Akkuma in an attempt to grant him a nearly shared awareness.

He steadied his breath, nervous and afraid.

Not afraid to let his powers loose to save Sunagakure, but afraid he would feel the call of destruction and lean into it once more.

His eyes locked towards where Ryota's squad was located.

`Do they appear to be Sandworms?`

His mind was curious as he was afraid what that could mean. Then it happened.

---

From the corner of his senses, almost in all directions he could sense them. Enemy shinobi have been spotted. This wasn't just a planned starvation attempt; this was an attempted genocide. While he wasn't entirely sure who was orchestrating this attack, the sheer number of mercenaries darting towards the village hinted at a final attempt to kill Sunagakure's entire population.

`Lord Akkuma, I believe this may be the Baron Twin's final attempt. I can delay their forces, but even with my intervention we will only have about five minutes before their strongest will be at our gates. Do not fret about their weak, I can consume their wills to live.`

---

The sandworms Ryota’s squad had been tracking began to convulse violently beneath the dunes. Segmented bodies twisted and thrashed, sending sprays of sand into the air. Cracks ran along their shells, and with a violent burst, the husks split open completely. From each worm like cocoon emerged massive, grotesque flying manta rays, wings stretched wide, glinting under the sun, moving with unnatural speed and precision.

`Ryota, these creatures… they’ve being accelerated or controlled, similar to Wei’s experiments.` one of his shinobi reported.

As the enemy mercenaries revealed themselves from cover, the manta rays swooped and banked with terrifying agility. One of the creatures dove directly into Ryota’s squad, swallowing a shinobi whole before anyone could react, the scream instantly cut off beneath the beast’s gaping maw. Sand and debris spiraled around the squad as the remaining manta rays began circling, probing for openings.

`Enemy forces are engaging, and the airborne predators are actively hunting. Your squad is in immediate danger.` Shin's call came from over head

The desert around Ryota became a chaotic battlefield of sand, wings, and deadly predators, with enemy shinobi moving into position. How does Ryota respond?

---

The orchids that had sprouted across the desert sands swayed without wind, their luminous petals trembling as if in anticipation. From their cores, a faint shimmer began to rise, a haze fine as mist, glimmering red and blue like dying embers. The pollen drifted outward, almost invisible, but it carried with it a weight that pressed upon the lungs and gnawed at the edges of the mind.

At first, it was subtle. Threads of thought began to unravel. Those who inhaled the strange pollen blinked rapidly, clutching at their temples as if struck by vertigo. Shin’s chakra reached through the haze, tugging on those threads of consciousness, and snapping them one by one. `Forbidden Art: Mental Unbinding` spread across the battlefield like wildfire, the fragile tapestry of discipline and training torn apart. Panic rose in the ranks of the enemy shinobi, some warriors staggering, others lashing out at shadows that were never there.

Then the orchids pulsed again. A soft grin stretched across the Kazekage's face.

The haze thickened, sinking into the very bones of those who breathed it. Fear swelled. Hearts raced in unison. Even the seasoned killers among the mercenaries felt their stomachs drop as knees trembled. Every sound sharpened, every flicker of light warped into a looming threat. This was no ordinary fright; this was the Forbidden Art: Phobophobia, the fear of fear itself, drawn forth until it was all-consuming.

Suddenly the battlefield grew quiet save for the sound of erratic breaths and choked cries.

Shin’s sapphire eyes glowed brighter as his wings spread wide, casting his shadow over the desert. His voice carried through the haze, resolute and terrible:

"I am not just a Sage..."

A beat of his wings scattered the haze wider, swallowing the dunes in its shimmering glow.


The words struck as heavy as the genjutsu itself, a pronouncement that echoed across friend and foe alike. The haze coiled tighter, anchoring their fears, chaining their minds to his will. A soft chuckle would take over the Kazekage as he felt, for the first time at the whim of his own mind, what it meant to be able to devastate armies. This was what he did to the Nomads over and over again, and now he was returning the favour to those who used him.

---

Amid the chaos of dust, chakra, and the Sand Mantas screeching above, a new presence tore through the battlefield. A woman, clad in black armor streaked with crimson, moved with unnatural speed, weaving effortlessly between the stone enclosures and talismans that Akkuma had so carefully deployed. Each of his wards and sand constructs seemed only a minor hindrance as she shattered or bypassed them with precision, leaving stunned shinobi in her wake.

`Akkuma… she is cutting through your defenses as if they were paper. Every barrier, every Sunaku wall, every illusionary trap you set, she ignores them, destroys them, or maneuvers around them flawlessly. I believe she posses the Mangyeko Sharingan, I don't know how else she could see through every tactic we've deployed.`

A Jounin leapt to intercept her, only to be swept aside in a spinning strike that sent sand and the Takahashi soldier flying and landing several meters away, unconscious. A small squad of Genin attempted to flank, but her were caught in the precise trajectory of her fire style attacks, most likely killing them before they could react.

`She is actively targeting your formations, advancing toward key positions.`

The desert seemed to hold its breath as she moved, sand swirling in her wake, leaving a trail of shattered defenses and fallen shinobi. The battlefield had become a deadly chessboard, and she was making moves faster than anyone could respond. How does Akkuma counter her assault now that he wasn't the only grandmaster at play?

What an utter mess... Kureji has been here for just over a day and it seems that there actually is some sort of political shit storm happening as Kohana had said. Originally, Kureji had thought that his initial visit to the Gates was something of a genjutsu, seeming as he hasn't seen anything of a giant metal dome. To be honest, he has no love for any village ninja. But the one type of code of honor he has is to keep civilian casualties to a minimum. Yes, the guy that blew up part of Crater City, likes to keep civilian casualties to a minimum. He is someone to get carried away though...



He smiled and laughed. Laughter that can possibly be heard in some areas of the battlefield. Suddenly, a demonic shadowy figure with white eyes and a creepy smile would be seen leaping around the battlefield. This creature is Kureji's demon form. He would survey the area, looking at where the Sand ninja needed help the most. He seen someone barreling their way towards... hm... Assuming his father lives, Kureji will have a talk with him later. But it shouldn't be an issue for his father to deal with, so the demon looked around and seen an unit of ninja being surrounded by mercenaries, sand worms, and sand manta rays. His demon form stood to be about eight feet tall as it let out a laugh to make just about anyone's skin start to crawl.

He pounced right in front of Ryota, but his back facing him, Kureji's attention was towards the mercenaries that are gathering up to bum rush the squad. His claws protruded, each one as long as a standard short sword. With that, he would charge straight ahead and charged straight for them. But he would be simultaneously attacking their bodies and minds in the most wicked way possible. To those not affected, they would see Kureji's claws burst into flames as he would swipe at two mercs, and if it hits, would follow up with a wonderful explosion. But in their minds, Kureji's targeting making them go mad, the two effected would see both a mini tornado and a geyser of fire potentially hitting them simultaneously.

(Kureji has entered the chat)

The sands whispered secrets of betrayal beneath the unrelenting gaze of the sun, but Akkuma had long since learned to listen to the echoes of chaos that danced just beyond mortal perception. He stood at the crater's rim like a spectre woven from the desert's own shadows, his lithe form clad in the flowing black robes of the Miroku Clan. His attire threaded with crimson sigils that pulsed faintly like veins of corrupted blood. The air around him hummed with latent malice, a subtle distortion that made the heat haze bend unnaturally. Almost as if reality itself recoiled from his presence.

As a Dark Sage, his aura permeated the space around him like an invisible predator. Tendrils of corrupted energy instinctively reaching out at the onset of conflict to claw at the chakra & life force of all within reach. Allies & enemies alike would feel the insidious pierce against their defences. A draining pull that siphoned what it could to restore & empower him, converting the stolen essence into fuel for his endless hunger.

His eyes, twin voids of abyssal black flecked with the glint of forbidden burning stars, swept the horizon where the dunes fractured into unnatural geometries. The explosion's scar still smouldered, a wound in the earth that reeked of calculated heresy.

A ripple in the ether caught his attention first: a tear in the veil, raw & demonic. Birthing an eight-foot colossus of shadow & flame. Kureji. The adopted son he had claimed in a web of ambition & shadowed pacts. Now a Missing-Nin, branded traitor by the very village that had once sheltered him. Their bond was a fractured mosaic of loyalty & betrayal: the boy's defiance against clan edicts, the curses woven in moments of rage, the blood oaths strained by the weight of unchecked power. Yet here he was, claws ablaze, hurling himself into the fray with feral glee.

Akkuma's lips curled into a smile that held no warmth, only the jagged edge of recognition laced with the barbs of their complicated history. 'My wayward heir,' he thought, the words unspoken but heavy with the irony of pride & suspicion. 'What motive draws you here now, amid this storm of sand and schemes? Redemption? Vengeance? Or something darker still?' He inclined his head ever so slightly, a gesture visible only to those who knew to look for the flicker of acknowledgment in his gaze.

His attention shifted to the former Kazekage, Shin. Whose presence anchored the scattered shinobi like a beacon in the dunes. The man's Mind Thread wove through their collective thoughts, a fragile web of shared vigilance that Akkuma had already begun to subtly infuse with threads of his own design; veins of shadow that promised alliance but whispered of dominion. Even as his aura tugged subtly at the edges of Shin's formidable reserves, Akkuma leaned in with the casual grace of one discussing the weather. His voice emerging smooth as oiled silk, laced with that ever-present undercurrent of amusement.

"Shin, my esteemed Kazekage," he murmured, just loud enough for the wind to carry it to the man's ears alone, "it seems our uninvited guests have grown bold. I'll take a stroll to greet our crimson-eyed interloper personally. Do keep the rabble entertained in my absence...wouldn't want them feeling neglected." The words dripped with implication, a velvet glove over the iron fist of intent: the Uchiha woman was his to unravel, a thread in the tapestry he alone would sever.

Before Shin could respond, even in thought Akkuma had extended his influence through the Mind Thread. Briefly hijacking the network with a surge of corrupted chakra that manifested as a chorus of whispers, each voice his own but layered in dissonant echoes. It slithered into the minds of every Sunagakure shinobi linked to the self proclaimed Sage of End Times: Ryota & his squad to the southeast, the scattered Epsilon teams fanning outward, the veterans anchoring the flanks. The message was precise, a blade wrapped in urgency, even as his aura's drain intensified the unease rippling through their connected psyches.

`Listen well, shinobi of the sand,' the mental chorus intoned, Akkuma's timbre resonating like tolling bells in a storm-swept abyss: deep, resonant, each syllable dragging like chains across stone. `The clock of oblivion ticks. You have thirty seconds before I unleash the calamity I have prepared. Strike your foes. Raise your defences. If your barriers do not stand firm by then... you will taste the storms full embrace, ally & enemy alike. Do not test the mercy of shadows. Act. Now.'

The transmission severed as cleanly as a guillotine's fall, leaving echoes of dread in its wake. Akkuma's gaze turned outward, toward the seething mass of enemies: the lurking threats in the dunes, the unnatural vibrations hinting at buried perils, the distant silhouettes of those who had dared strike at Suna's heart. He drew a slow breath, chakra flooding his vocal cords in a subtle weave that amplified his voice across the battlefield; not a shout, but a proclamation, carrying on winds laced with infernal resonance. It rolled over the dunes like thunder from a fractured sky, deep & inexorable. Each word blooming with the weight of eons unspoken, while his aura's voracious pull clawed deeper at the life forces of all who heard it.

"Hear me, you fleeting sparks in the void," his voice boomed, enhanced to pierce the chaos like a god's decree; low & gravelly, with a reverb that suggested vast caverns echoing in the listener's skull, slow pauses pregnant with the promise of annihilation. "Survive my storm for thirty seconds & you may yet earn a place in the Miroku fold. A clan forged in the crucible of eternity, where the weak are remade or discarded. But know this: I accept no surrender before that veil lifts. Flee if you must. Fight if you dare. But in the end... all threads converge in me."

The Uchiha woman emerged from the haze of battle, her crimson armour adorned with numerous metal plates forming protective guards along her chest, waist, shoulders & thighs. Her eyes, those cursed tomoe spinning in eternal hunger. Locked onto him across the fractured sands. She wielded her fire-wreathed blade with lethal grace, a harbinger of stolen chakra & impending doom. Akkuma met her stare, unflinching & stepped forward. His form a silhouette against the crater's glow, his aura now latching onto her vibrant signature with renewed fervour. It attempted to rend chakra from her armoured form to bolster his own.

When he spoke again, his voice shifted, channelling the essence of ancient malevolence: a deep, rumbling baritone that echoed as if from the depths of a lich's phylactery, slow & deliberate. Each pause a deliberate drag of skeletal fingers across the soul. Reverb layered it like the groan of shifting tombs, the pitch dipping into infrasonic dread that vibrated in the bones. Conveying not mere threat, but the inexorable certainty of cosmic unravelling. Where every syllable drips with otherworldly terror & unyielding dominance.

"You hold your head quite high..." A pause, heavy as the fall of an empire. "...it seems you aren't familiar with how to conduct yourself in front of ancient malevolence." Another breath, drawn out, the resonance building like a gathering gale. "Know that in the grand tapestry of chaos... you are but a thread of insecurity, suffering in vain." The final clause descended like judgment, the voice fracturing into a somehow thunder whisper that clawed at the mind. "Just to be blown away...by my storm."

With the words still hanging like a shroud, Akkuma moved; his actions a symphony of shadowed precision. Hands blurred in a flicker of seals, summoning the Hands of Chaos from the ethereal void. The gauntlets materialized with a hiss of displaced air, sleek obsidian constructs veined in pulsating crimson, fitting over his fingers like a second skin. Unarmed elegance that permitted handseals even in melee's embrace, their augments humming with latent hunger; speeding his chakra recovery, designed for deflecting blows & ensuring a portion of the damage he received would be absorbed at the cost of chakra.

Next, his senses unfurled like tendrils of night. As the Mastered Chakra Sense he cast latched onto the Uchiha woman's chakra signature; a roiling maelstrom of Sharingan, fire & stolen souls. He marked her amid the battlefield's cacophony, a beacon in the brewing fog of war. Ensuring no illusion or shadow could sever their fatal waltz, even as his aura feasted on the fringes of her power.

The air grew thick, pregnant with malice. Hands weaving the handseals needed to invoke his Mastered Hidden Mist. Chakra surged from his core, birthing a veil of impenetrable white that billowed outward in dual pulses; densifying the fog to blind all sight beyond arm's reach & expanding its grasp to cloak the entire battlefield in obscuring pallor. Visibility plummeted to zero, the desert reborn as a labyrinth of suffocating white.

Undeterred, Akkuma layered his assault with a Mastered Suffocating Fog. Erupting in a cataclysmic bloom that devoured the nascent mist. Corrupted vapours, thicker, deadlier; supplanted the veil, burning lungs & making eyes weep wherever they intruded. With its True Hidden Mist invoked, the fog adapted seamlessly, overwriting the shroud; now it strangled breath from throats, inflicted corrosive blight on flesh & warped perceptions.

Then came his transformation: Sage Mode - Youkai ignited within him like a black sun's birth. Natural energy coiling through corrupting veins in serpentine fury. His form shifted, elongating into something reaper-esque; a Shinigami's silhouette etched in shadow & bone. Skin paled to ashen translucence, eyes deepening to pits that wept ethereal tears of void. Jagged pauldrons of umbral chitin sprouting from shoulders like the scythe of death itself. A tattered cloak of living darkness billowed behind him, fringed with spectral blades that whispered harvest hymns. Akkuma's presence a chill that frostbit the soul, an avatar of the underworld striding the sands. Only those with enhanced sight, like the Byakudan Ryouta possessed would be guaranteed to see the monster he transformed into.

Where other's might see partial flashes of the monster, they would see him in their full glory. At last, he lunged through the fog-shroud toward the Uchiha's position. Tracked unerringly by his Chakra Sense technique, fingers outstretched as he attempted to use Defiled Touch. Corrupted energy would lash forth like profane lightning in a melee touch fuelled by ninjutsu precision, the technique's tendrils seeking her fire-kissed blade. If successful her weapon would be infused with his corrupted energies, the defilement would bind her steel & life force together: a creeping blight of abyssal rot that would erode its edge with each swing, siphon her very life force into his own reservoirs & cause any healing she received to not only damage her, but revitalise him in her stead.

With one swift move he hoped to cripple her capabilities, Akkuma landed lightly amid the swirling death-fog. Gauntleted hands flexing as if caressing the throats of fates yet to be. The storm brewed, thirty seconds its gestation & he...the eye of its malice...waited for the Uchiha's defiant spark to ignite her undoing. Whether successful or not in his final attack, it mattered not. For he had set the stage & once more embraced the monster he was. The Demon of Mist, he would let the realization of their mistake dawn upon them.

[OoC: Actions;
0: Dark Sage Passive Targeting All Battlefield Participants 0AP [Link]
1: Equip Weapon; Hand of Chaos 0.5AP [Link]
2: Activate Chakra Sense Mastered on enemy Uchiha shinobi 2AP [Link]
3: Cast Hidden Mist Mastered, using Both Special Actions 2AP [Link]
4: Cast Suffocating Fog Mastered, using it's Special Action True Hidden Mist 3AP [Link]
5: Attempt to cast Defiled Touch, Special Action - Weapon to bind the Uchiha's weapon [Link]

MFT: 1,890+

That guy, Akuma, was around... The one he still wanted to take a swing at. A grimace crossed his face as he walked on until he spotted something odd. A thing with wires, a husk? Maybe more? He shared it with Shin, who had his own thoughts about it.

`Ryota, these creatures… they’ve being accelerated or controlled, similar to Wei’s experiments.`

As time seemed to freeze, one second he was cheerfully searching the area, and the next he was blinking as he watched one of his teammates get devoured in one big gulp.
It felt like a cruel prank; he had just been made captain of this squad, and already he had lost one. Before he could even muster a different expression than a straight line, a massive figure loomed in front of him, causing his other teammate to panic.

`Enemy forces are engaging, and the airborne predators are actively hunting. Your squad is in immediate danger.`

Ryota let out a frustrated sigh as he grabbed his teammate's cuff and yanked him to safety. Thankfully, being a taijutsu user made it feel like he was pulling a featherweight. "So... I can count on you for this?" he asked nonchalantly... After all, Ryota was pretty lazy and disliked teamwork, just like he was stuck doing now. He preferred to be a lone wolf and fight solo, so he wouldn't have to worry about losing anyone else... He'd take the fall himself if he messed up.

Yet despite being lazy... The boy was angry; he had already lost someone and wasn't going to let that pass. If that one creepy guy had one side, then maybe he could have the other. A set of hand signs was woven before in a puff of smoke, a tiny little monkey would emerge beside Ryota, the monkey contract named Lulu. She would hop around and had already seen the surroundings. A quick hop to Ryota's shoulde,r and she would grab the stick out of her little tuft of fur on top of her head. "Ook ook time?" "Yup... Let's hit some bad guys..." and with that, veins would grow beside his eyes as he activated his Hyuuga eyesight.

1AP drag a teammate to godknows where.
1AP Shove a load of work to Kureji.
0.5AP equip weapon Gloves
4.5AP Contract summoning Lulu
0.5 Lulu equips stick.

The desert was alive with screams and shadows. Fog swelled in waves across the battlefield, carrying the stench of blood and sweat while obscuring all but the faintest glimmers of chakra. Above it, the manta rays wheeled in great arcs, their wings blotting out the very sun as they circled like vultures. Every beat of their wings churned the sand into miniature storms, throwing grit into the faces of shinobi already struggling to keep their balance.

Kureji’s laughter was the one sound that cut clean through the haze. Jagged and manic, it drew heads and froze spines, announcing the arrival of something more terrible than the mercenaries themselves. His body stretched and warped, claws glinting in the half-light, until the demon stood towering among the sand shinobi. The monstrous figure pounced into place before Ryota’s squad, his grin wide enough to split his face, eyes burning with cruel delight.

But even with that shadow guarding them, the danger overhead did not abate. One manta stooped low, jaws unhinging in a grotesque display as it skimmed just above the ground. The sheer size of it forced the shinobi below to scatter, its body eclipsing everything as it plunged, only to sweep upward again when its teeth snapped on empty sand. Another circled wider, its wings driving up blasts of air that staggered the squad and threatened to fling them off their feet. A third dipped and dove between its kin, shrieking as it sought to harry any shinobi slow enough to react.

Ryota’s squad faltered but fought back with desperate resolve. One of the younger shinobi hurled a kunai that sailed harmlessly against a manta’s armored hide, sparking uselessly off its scales before tumbling away. Another formed frantic hand seals, loosing a stream of fire that vanished into the fog, lighting up the murk for a heartbeat but doing little more than enrage the beast it had been aimed for. A third tried to hold the line with a spear of hardened sand, jabbing upward as the manta passed close overhead, but the strike glanced off its leathery underbelly, leaving only a shallow mark.

Through it all, Ryota’s Byakugan pierced deeper than sight alone. His veins bulged as his gaze fixed not just on the swooping predators but on the strange shimmer of chakra running along their bodies. Thin lines, like threads, glowed faintly against the night and then vanished into the distance, tethering the creatures to something beyond the dunes. It was no natural instinct that drove them so mercilessly into the fray. Their movements were too deliberate, too coordinated, like marionettes tugged on by invisible strings. The realization gnawed at him, raising more questions than it answered, but he had no time to dwell.

The mantas shrieked again as they dove, their shadows stretching over the sand like wings of death. The shinobi beneath them cried out in unison, some bracing for impact, others scrambling to reposition before they were swept into the beasts’ waiting jaws. The squad was balanced on a knife’s edge, their captain caught between the need to protect those still standing and the revelation that someone, somewhere, was controlling this storm from afar.

---

The fog seemed to recoil the instant she stepped into it, clearing in a ragged halo around a figure that moved with the terrible grace of a thing born to war. She was not heralded by trumpet or fanfare, only by the heat that bloomed in her wake and the soft, hungry hum of chakra that smelled faintly of brimstone. Armor plate caught what little light there was and threw it back in shards of orange and red. The blade at her hip glowed like a promise. She walked through the mist as if it were wind, each step burning a clean line into the pall until the world around her sharpened into focus.

A hush fell, not because others stopped speaking but because they could not help looking. The Uchiha woman’s presence cleaved the battlefield into before and after. Where her fire touched the haze it boiled away whole swaths, leaving ragged curtains of white and smoking ground. Mercenaries near her route staggered, some blinking as the heat burned at their faces, others backing away with curses on their lips. Shinobi flanking the crater found momentary cover in the bright swathes she left, but the duel she sought already hung like a thunderhead over the sand.

She did not hurry. There was hunger in the way she breathed, but it was tempered with something like curiosity, an appetite for a proper clash. When she finally turned her gaze toward the towering, shifting shadow that was Akkuma’s domain, a smile cut across her features and it was all teeth and flame. She tipped her chin as if greeting an old acquaintance, and the sound in her voice when it came was amused, flat, and impossibly calm for what the desert had become.

"At last," she said, words threading through the fog like a blade. "I've been hunting a worthy face in this sea of cowards. It is a rare thing to find someone who earns the courtesy of my interest."

She drew her sword in a movement that could have been a flourish and could have been the prelude to slaughter. Fire slicked its steel; vapor hissed and rolled away from the heat as the blade carved arcs of light that cut through the mist and into the sand. Each swing painted the fog brighter for a breath, revealing the world in quick, violent frames: a mercenary thrown back by the pressure of the blade’s aftershock, a sand manta startled and forced higher, a line of shinobi squinting against the burning glare.

"It is a pity," she continued, voice low enough that those nearest had to lean to hear, "to find someone worth meeting and realize you'll die for curiosity." The words were not cruel; they were simply the statement of a fact, like saying the sun will set.

She moved with intent now, cutting sweeps that opened gashes of clarity through Akkuma’s shroud. Mist boiled and snapped back from her strikes, revealing the dark where it had been. Sparks spat into the air and rained down like tiny meteorites across the crater’s rim. The heat from her blade set sand to glass in fleeting ribbons that glimmered and shattered. Surrounding fighters were forced to take cover or be scorched by the collateral wash of heat that radiated with each parry and feint.

Around the edges of their confrontation, the rest of the battlefield shifted in reaction. The manta rays wheeled closer, drawn by the sudden flare of energy, their screeches rising into a chorus. Men and women in the ranks scrambled to adjust; some tried to exploit the temporary clarity her strikes opened, hurling kunai or forming seals through the thinner pockets of fog. Others were forced back, hiding behind dunes and broken battlements as the duel lit the sky. Beneath the surface, the tremor that had been whispering through the sand swelled into a low warning that pulled on the attention of those already stretched thin.

She smiled again, a flash of white in the glow, and there was a small, bitter curl to it when she spoke next.

"You will make them pay. I do what the Twins demand, and the Twins keep score in blood."

Her blade arced hard then, a blow meant to test reach and guard. The strike opened a corridor through the suffocating fog, and for a heartbeat the world held: the clang of steel, the rasp of burning vapor, the sucking cadence of a thousand breaths. Flames licked where metal met mist and the air smelled of ash and ozone. Whether that slash found bone or was met by a counter, whether it simply cleaved vapor or split armor, that was left to the clash itself to decide.

She stepped forward, not a second of hesitation in her gait, and finally spoke the name she had carried like a brand.

"I am Jigoku," she said, letting the syllable fall toward the mist and the man who wore it. "It is an honor to meet you. It is a shame you will die today."

The dunes answered with a howl as a sand manta dove nearby, its shadow momentarily blotting the heat-warped light. All around them, fighters watched and waited, breath hitching with the sense that something decisive was about to unfold. The duel had become the noon center of the storm; how it would end, who would fall, and whether the Twins would be paid in the ledger she sought remained a roll of fate the battlefield had yet to turn.

---

Shin soared above the dunes, wings spread wide, every feather a living prism of red and blue fire. From this vantage, he could see the battlefield in its entirety. The orchids he had planted pulsed faintly beneath him, threads of his chakra stretching through the sand and fog. Every enemy movement, every flicker of hesitation, every pulse of fear was visible to him. His Mental Unbinding and Phobophobia radiated outward, tugging at threads of consciousness, fraying the nerves of those who dared advance.

'Listen closely, everyone. Look at them, their hesitation, their fear... it is ours to exploit. Every step they take, every pause, every faltering thought is an opening. Move with precision, strike with confidence, and trust that I am watching. The anchors I’ve placed, the threads of their minds I’ve touched, the fear I’ve sown, they are yours to use. Do not linger, and do not hold back when the opportunity to strike shows itself. Keep your formation tight, enough to protect each other, but not so rigid you lose flexibility in your thinking on the battlefield. Let their panic guide your strikes, but do not let it consume you. I see all of you. I feel all of you. Your courage, your Sunan discipline, it matters more than any weapon. Step through their chaos, move like the wind of the desert that raised you, strike like the piercer of the scorpions who dwelled within the Diamond Maelstrom. Even in the fog and the screaming, even when they try to recover, we are in control. Trust in yourselves, trust in each other, and trust in me. We hold this field together, and we will bend it to our will.'

Shin’s sapphire eyes scanned the chaos. Most of his shinobi maintained formation, bolstered by the illusions that shaped the battlefield. But his vision sharpened, and he saw small groups of enemy shinobi pushing forward, attempting to exploit openings, pressing against the edges of his control.

"Very well then. Let us make this interesting"

From his wings, he extended a surge of chakra, detaching the ethereal flaming feathers. They launched like hawks from his plumage, streaking toward the enemy ranks. Mid-flight, each feather expanded, shifting into phoenix-like forms, wings erupting in fire and light, eyes glowing with awareness. Nevermore had taken form, a murder of phoenixes arcing across the battlefield, talons and wings slicing through the fog, each strike forcing enemies into missteps, disrupting their attacks, scattering their formations.

As the phoenixes tore through the air, Shin’s senjutsu enhanced eyes picked up a sudden threat. The Uchiha woman had breached the outer defenses, her blade moving toward Akkuma, who stood surrounded by broken illusions and scattering sand constructs. The sight of danger focused his mind like a blade, and he beat his wings hard, descending toward the ground.

Red and blue flames surged along his wings, roaring like twin suns as Shin descended. Each footfall struck the sand with the weight of inevitability, sending shards scattering like a storm of glass. His wings unfolded with deliberate grace, stretching out into a radiant arc of fire and light, casting an angelic aura over the battlefield that seemed to counter the demonic visage that was Akkuma, and slightly stilled the chaos around them. The air trembled with the heat and power of his presence, and for a heartbeat, every combatant, friend and foe alike, was forced to witness the Kazekage's full majesty as he landed beside Akkuma, a living embodiment of both protection and unyielding fury.

"Akkuma, unleash hell. Dive deep into the darkness if you must. I will be the light to guide you back, unwavering and unflinching. Let the shadows roar, let the world tremble in your storm, and I will stand at your side, wings spread, burning through the chaos for you. You once pulled me from the abyss when Wei had me, showed me the path back when I was lost and broken, and for that I am forever in your debt. Today, let us face the darkness together, you with your night, and I with my light, holding the world steady between us."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His sapphire eyes flicked to the woman, assessing, calculating. The Uchiha were perfect counters to his Genjutsu, but he had more than one tool. Shin shifted his stance, entering Phantosmia style. Movements became a blur, a blend of martial strikes and psychic influence, his presence a living rhythm of disruption. Each motion was calculated, each strike opening spaces for Akkuma, creating angles for counterattacks, forcing Jigoku to react faster than she anticipated.

'She is fast. She sees through illusions. But the battlefield bends to me. I will make her work for every step she takes. And I will protect him.' His mind wandered, not realizing that Akkuma could hear his words.

The phoenixes above continued their relentless assault, claws tearing through the fog, wings scattering debris, forcing the enemy to hesitate and falter. Sand and flame danced in a chaotic waltz, his Genjutsu threads tightening like invisible chains. Every flinch fed Shin’s rhythm, every falter amplified the effect of his Twilight Sage control. He steadied his breath.

"Why are you trying to count at a time like this?" Kureji mused. It was a sarcastic comment, but he was hoping to get a chuckle out of the other one. He assumes that they won't, given that they are a village ninja. All of them are a bit too uptight sometimes, they just need to relax. He himself giggled as he seen the sand manta rays fly overhead, an idea popped up. A crazy one, befitting of his name.

"This is going to be soooo fun." He howled loudly, hopefully enough to get the attention of the three sand Manta rays. "Just keep yourself and your buddies out of my way. For your all's sake." Stepping forward, his twisted mind thought of the perfect arena in which this battle will take place. All around him, the scenery would change, from sand dunes to a rock concert, strobing lights and a faceless crowd yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs. Of course, this is just part of Kureji's ultimate technique, a way to grab the attention of the monsters in the sky. He grabbed the microphone on the stage as a light from nowhere shined down on him. 'ARE WE READY TO ROCK AND PARTY?!?!?!" He yelled out. Any normal or sane person would be a bit uneasy at this, mainly because Kureji is still in his demon form, and that a whole rock concert had appeared out of nowhere. But they aren't todays main event, so they are safe from the fun that he's about to release.

Who is today's main event you might ask? "TODAY BEFORE THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATES TAKE TO THE STAGE WE HAVE SOME VERY SPECIAL GUESTS WITH US!!! EVERYONE PLEASE GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO THE SANDTA RAYS!!!!" The fake crowd would hoot and hollar and chant SANDTA RAYS. SANDTA RAYS. With that done, his power of influence would hopefully reach the sand creatures. But he wasn't done yet. He would mess with the creatures' eyesight, making them nearly blind.

But no, he's still not done! Kureji would drive himself insane, using a genjutsu that would normally make a person go deaf, but in his case, made his listening a whole lot better and made him more aware of his surroundings. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!" Without much thought, he would wait until one of the Sandta Rays swooped in low at him, in which he would jump up and hopefully land on its back. Will it work? Who cares! He's crazy enough to try it! He just wants to catch a ride!