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!

The suffocating veil of Akkuma's fog clung to the battlefield like a shroud of living malice, its corrosive tendrils gnawing at lungs & flesh alike. Warping perceptions into fevered hallucinations that blurred the line between nightmare & reality. Yet even in this choking pall, his Dark Sage aura pulsed relentlessly. An insidious predator that clawed at the chakra & life force of every soul ensnared within its reach; Sunagakure shinobi braced their barriers against the unwelcome drain, mercenaries faltered as their essence bled away, converted into corrupted fuel that surged through Akkuma's veins like stolen thunder.

The manta rays shrieked overhead, their shadows slicing through the haze, drawn into the fray by Kureji's manic spectacle; a rock concert manifested from madness, strobing lights piercing the fog as the demon-formed heir howled into a microphone. Blinding the beasts with Genjutsu & leaping aboard one in a fit of gleeful insanity. Akkuma's crimson eyes flickered toward the chaos, a faint smirk acknowledging the boy's twisted ingenuity. 'Ever the showman, my wayward son,' he mused, suspicion mingling with a spark of paternal pride. 'Your madness serves well here, let it devour them.'

His Chakra Sense held Jigoku's signature in an unyielding grip, a roiling inferno of Sharingan fire & pilfered souls that he tracked with predatory precision. Even as his Defiled Touch festered upon her weapon, a creeping blight of abyssal rot that siphoned her chakra with every swing, twisting the steel's loyalty toward his chaotic will. His Sage Mode form loomed reaper-like, ashen skin translucent under a tattered cloak of living darkness, eyes abyssal pits weeping void, jagged pauldrons sprouting like death's own scythe...an avatar of the underworld that chilled the soul with every breath. The lingering echoes of his previous assaults hung heavy, masking the calamity that would soon befall the battlefield.

The Kazekage's descent shattered the tension like a comet's fall, wings of red & blue flame unfurling in radiant defiance. Casting an angelic glow that pierced the fog & stilled the surrounding frenzy. Shin's words washed over him, a debt acknowledged, a bond reaffirmed in the crucible of shared abyss. Akkuma's lips curled into a shark-like grin, his crimson eyes flickering with a rare glint of genuine amusement; not at the battle, but at the irony of it all. 'My light in the darkness? How quaint, Shin,' he thought, the sentiment laced with affectionate mockery. 'You've grown bold since I dragged you from Wei's clutches. Very well, let us paint this canvas in night & dawn.' Aloud, his voice slithered through the mist, smooth as venom-laced silk, carrying only to the Kazekage's ears. "Your faith is...touching, old friend. Unleash your radiance; I'll provide the shadows to make it shine." He inclined his head slightly, a gesture of alliance forged in blood & betrayal. Even as his aura tugged subtly at Shin's formidable reserves, he was after all ever the opportunist.

But his focus sharpened on Jigoku, her ornate crimson armour; a fortress of plated guards along chest, waist, shoulders & thighs. Evoking the indomitable warlords of old, gleaming defiantly against his domain. Her blade arced in fiery sweeps that boiled away swaths of his unearthly fog, her words a bold proclamation laced with fatalistic hunger. "At last," she intoned, drawing her sword with a flourish, fire slicking its edge as she carved light through the haze. "I've been hunting a worthy face... It is a pity to find someone worth meeting and realize you'll die for curiosity." Her smile was all teeth and flame, bitter as she invoked the Twins, her blade testing reach and guard in a hard arc that opened corridors of clarity, flames licking the air with the scent of ash and ozone. "You will make them pay. I do what the Twins demand, and the Twins keep score in blood."

Akkuma's initial response bubbled forth as a low, rumbling chuckle, echoing like distant thunder in a crypt; amused, indulgent, as if he were beholding a child playing at war. "Worthy? Oh, how delightful," he purred, his voice enhanced by chakra to cut through the din. Laced with that ancient malevolence, each syllable a drag of skeletal fingers across the soul. "You stride into my storm with such fire in your eyes, Jigoku. I almost believed you might be more than another fleeting spark." His form shifted subtly in the mist, a silhouette teasing at the edges of her cleared paths, his amusement genuine for the thrill of a potential equal.


Yet as she pressed, naming herself & declaring his doom "It is an honour to meet you. It is a shame you will die today." the amusement curdled into disgust, a heavy pall that darkened his features. Her words reeked of cowardice, of chains to these 'Twins' who tallied blood like miserly gods; hoping he would slay them in retribution for her sacrifice, rather than facing them herself. 'Pathetic,' he thought, the word a venomous spike in his mind. 'To throw away your flame in vain hope that I'll avenge you by ending your masters? What a waste, too craven to break your own bonds, you'd rather perish at a stranger's hand.' One of her fiery slashes found purchase then, her blade's arc blasting through a fleeting gap in the fog, searing across his reaper-like form in a blaze of infernal heat. The impact dispersed the mist around him momentarily, revealing his ashen silhouette in stark relief; flesh charred & split, corrupted blood oozing like tar. Before his regenerative essence knit the wound with grotesque speed, tissues writhing back into wholeness as if the injury were but an illusion. He vanished back into the reforming haze with a flicker, the fog snapping shut like jaws.

"Pathetic," he spat aloud, the word dripping with revulsion, his voice now a thunderous proclamation that rolled across the battlefield. A gravelly reverb, echoing in skulls like the groan of shifting tombs. "You bare your soul to me, only to reveal a coward's heart? Willing to discard your life in vain hope that I'll hunt down your 'Twins' for sending you, rather than facing them yourself? They keep score in blood, do they? Then let this be your ledger's end; wasted, unavenged, forgotten in my storm."

With disgust fuelling his malice, Akkuma's hands wove seals in a blur, channelling corrupted chakra into a cataclysmic assault. High above the Sol Fire Tempest coalesced, into a massive ball of corrupted energy condensing in the sky, like a mini black sun, its surface roiling with unholy flames twisted by cursed chakra. Resembling a meteor of abyssal void that hung ominously, building for ten seconds before its inevitable crash & explosion into an insatiable firestorm targeting all on the battlefield, himself included.

No sooner had the black sun begun to form than the sands beneath churned violently, the Desert Tendril erupting in a vast gathering overhead; sand condensing before bursting into a weblike maze of irregular branching spikes, delayed for ten seconds but poised to impale all in battle with cursed, life-draining strikes that ignored defences & if lucky would impale his foes.

In the heartbeat that followed, Akkuma dissolved into shadow with a Shadow Dance. His form flickering through the void in a sneaky, blindsiding approach to reappear behind Jigoku in a whisper of darkness. His gauntleted Hands of Chaos outstretched, he lunged with Grapple. In an attempt to seize her in an iron hold, if successful his arms would wrap like chains of the abyss in a quick restraining technique. Pinning her in place, restricting movement & handseals for both of them. Holding her vulnerable for the impending impact of his Sol Fire Tempest, his breath hot against her ear as he hissed. "Feel the weight of your cowardice."

The fog continued anew, the battlefield a symphony of screams & brewing cataclysm. There he stood, Akkuma the eye of the storm & waited for the unravelling to begin.

Word Count: 1400+

Spoiler: Actions & Maintains

Maintains: Chakra Sense Mastered Targeting Jigoku (Uchiha), Suffocating Fog Mastered Targeting Entire Battlefield, Defiled Touch on Jigoku's Weapon, Sol Fire Tempest, Desert Tendrils, Sage Mode - Yoakai
0: Dark Sage Passive Targeting All Battlefield Participants 0AP
1: Sol Fire Tempest Mastered - Using Special Action to Target All in Battle & also using Corrupted Chakra to deal Cursed Damage Link
2: Desert Tendril Mastered - Using Special Action to Target All in Battle & also using Corrupted Chakra to deal Cursed Damage Link
3: Shadow Dance Mastered - To appear behind Jigoku Link
4: Grapple Mastered - Targeting Jigoku & attempt to hold her in place for the start of the next round when Akkuma's Sol Fire Tempest impacts. Link

Edited to make another small fix. (Re-reading I spotted one of the lines had " instead of ' & it has been eating at me. I had to fix it.) XD

Frustrated by a lot of things. The fact that he had to babysit really got to his nerves. This was beneath him, so beneath him... Especially since he was part of a team, and it annoyed him about Akkuma as well. They were right there, but once again felt so far away. Ryota's expression darkened as he realized how late it was getting.

With his unique perspective, he noticed more than an average person would... This situation was no exception. Clenching his teeth, he tried to breathe out as calmly as he could. "oi... Kage...." He called out before connecting with him telephonically again. "Controlled... Everything is wired along their bodies with chakra? Someone's pulling the strings." He shared this info before turning to his team.

"Their underbelly is unprotected; keep that as your target. Cut them, stab them, fill them up until they burst. I don't care, make sure they cannot get into the sand. Freeze it if you need to, or turn it into a solid base."

His frustration channeled into a cold, calculating focus. The playful lines of sage mode began to etch themselves onto his face. The world sharpened, the air throbbed with power. This wasn't just babysitting anymore; this was war.

"Oi.. supposedly scary dude! If you have vision, try to look far beyond. Is there a person if you can see? If yes... Make that your target, I will protect my team if worse case with my special jutsu. But that guy in the back? I think he is controlling them all!"

---

The desert horizon shimmered with heat and malice as the manta rays continued their coordinated assault. Each creature moved with unnatural precision, their massive wings carving through the air in perfect synchronization. The threads of chakra that Ryota had identified pulsed with a sickly green luminescence, visible only to those with the keenest of dojutsu. They stretched across the dunes like the strings of some cosmic marionette, disappearing into the distance where the sand met sky.

Nearly two hundred meters beyond the crater's edge, perched atop the highest dune in the vicinity, a figure stood motionless against the burning sun. The puppetmaster was a gaunt man, skeletal in frame, draped in tattered robes that whipped and snapped in the desert wind. His fingers danced in the air before him, each digit controlling multiple threads that extended from his fingertips like spider silk made manifest. The man's face was hidden behind a porcelain mask painted with a grotesque smile, cracked down the middle as if it had survived some terrible impact.

Around his feet, half-buried in the sand, lay dozens of broken cocoons, the husks from which the manta rays had emerged. More disturbingly, several intact cocoons still writhed and pulsed with an internal rhythm, suggesting that the current aerial assault was merely the first wave. The puppetmaster's hands moved in hypnotic patterns, and with each gesture, the manta rays responded instantly. When his left index finger curled, three of the creatures dove in unison toward Ryota's squad. When his right thumb twitched, another pair banked hard, circling to flank from the opposite direction.

But the puppetmaster was not alone.

Flanking him on either side stood two massive figures, each easily seven feet tall and built like siege engines wrapped in human flesh. They wore matching armor, blackened steel plates adorned with the symbol of two intertwined serpents, the mark of the Baron Twins. These bodyguards remained perfectly still, their eyes hidden behind dark visors, but their presence radiated menace. Each carried a massive tetsubo, iron clubs studded with wicked spikes, resting casually against their shoulders.

The manta ray that Kureji had mounted suddenly convulsed violently. The puppetmaster had noticed the intruder on his creation's back. His fingers jerked sharply, and the creature responded by executing a barrel roll so violent that the g-forces alone would have liquefied an ordinary person's organs. The beast shrieked, a sound like tearing metal, and began to climb at an impossible angle, trying to reach an altitude where the thin air might force its passenger to release his grip or pass out entirely.

Meanwhile, the other manta rays shifted their attack pattern. Rather than continuing their dive-and-circle routine, they began to coordinate a more sophisticated assault. Three of them dove simultaneously at Ryota's squad from different angles, creating a triangulated attack that would force the defenders to split their attention. Their underbellies, softer and more vulnerable than their armored backs, were indeed exposed during these aggressive dives, but targeting them would require precision timing and nerves of steel.

As if responding to some unheard command, the intact cocoons at the puppetmaster's feet began to crack and split. Wet, glistening shapes pushed their way free from the membranous prisons. These new creatures were different from the manta rays, smaller, roughly the size of large dogs, but with too many legs and mandibles that clicked with anticipation. There were at least a dozen of them, and they immediately began skittering down the dune toward the battlefield, moving with horrifying speed across the sand.

The puppetmaster's mask tilted slightly, as if he were observing the chaos below with detached amusement. His fingers never stopped moving, never faltered in their dance. One of his bodyguards shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on his tetsubo, but otherwise the three figures remained statue-still atop their dune, confident in their elevated position and the barrier of controlled creatures between them and any would-be attackers.

In the sky, the manta ray carrying Kureji had reached an altitude where the air grew noticeably thinner. The creature's movements became even more erratic, influenced by its master's growing irritation at this persistent parasite. Below, Ryota's squad found themselves pressed from multiple angles, the diving mantas from above, and now these new skittering horrors approaching rapidly from the dunes.

The puppetmaster raised both hands higher, and every creature on the battlefield, both the aerial manta rays and the ground-based horrors, suddenly stopped their individual attacks. They held position for a single, breathless moment. Then, as his hands came together in a sharp clap that echoed across the desert, every single creature lunged forward in a coordinated strike. The mantas dove as one entity, wings folded back for maximum speed. The sandworm-like creatures leaped the final distance, mandibles spread wide and dripping with venom.

The attack was meant to overwhelm through sheer synchronized force, a tidal wave of chitin, teeth, and unnatural flesh designed to crush any defense through perfect coordination.

---

---

The fog was a living thing now, thick and malicious, pressing against exposed skin like cold fingers seeking warmth to steal. Within its depths, Akkuma held Jigoku in his iron grapple, the Hands of Chaos locked around her armored form like the embrace of death itself. Above them, the corrupted sun of the Sol Fire Tempest continued to build, its surface roiling with unholy flames that cast sickly shadows through the suffocating mist. Ten seconds. That's all the time that remained before the meteor would fall and the Desert Tendril would erupt in its maze of life-draining spikes.

Shin stood mere meters away, his ethereal wings spread wide, red and blue flames licking along their edges. The Phantosmia style kept him in constant motion, a blur of calculated strikes and psychic influence designed to create openings, to disrupt, to protect. His sapphire eyes blazed with senjutsu power as he assessed the rapidly deteriorating situation. Jigoku was dangerous, her Sharingan saw through his Genjutsu as if they were mere parlor tricks, and her mastery of fire techniques carved burning paths through even Akkuma's corrupted fog.

But she was not giving up.

"You misunderstand everything," Jigoku hissed through gritted teeth, her voice strained by Akkuma's grapple but losing none of its venom. Her Sharingan spun wildly, the tomoe blurring into a complex pattern as she analyzed every possible escape route, every weakness in her captor's hold. "The Twins don't send lambs to slaughter. They send messages. And I am their loudest declaration."

Her body temperature began to rise dramatically. Flames erupted across her armor, not as an attack, but as a defensive aura that made her form nearly untouchable. The heat was intense enough to make the air warp and shimmer, to force even Akkuma's corrupted regeneration to work overtime where his flesh touched her superheated form. This was a technique born of desperation and determination, she was willing to burn herself from the inside out if it meant breaking free.

"Eight seconds," she counted aloud, her voice taking on an almost taunting quality despite her predicament. "Your meteor falls in eight seconds. Will you die with me, Demon of Mist? Or will you let go and watch me dance through your storm?"

Shin's mind raced. The situation was spiraling beyond his control, and he could feel it slipping through his fingers like sand. His Mind Thread network stretched across the battlefield, connecting him to dozens of shinobi, feeding him information from every front. Ryota's discovery of the puppetmaster. Kureji's aerial struggle. The approaching wave of sandworm-creatures. And now, Akkuma's incoming friendly-fire cataclysm that would devastate ally and enemy alike.

"All Sunagakure forces!" Shin's voice rang out both audibly and through the Mind Thread network, carrying the weight of absolute command. "Raise your barriers NOW! Maximum defensive formations! Seek cover behind the largest dunes! We have incoming friendly ordnance, I repeat, FRIENDLY ordnance inbound in seven seconds! Stone enclosures, sand walls, anything you can manifest! MOVE!"

His wings beat once, a powerful downdraft that cleared a small area of fog around him and Akkuma. He could see the shinobi scrambling to obey, see the panic as they realized what was about to happen. Some of the veterans immediately began forming hand seals, raising earthen barriers and stone domes. Others grabbed their less experienced comrades and dove behind natural cover.

But then Shin felt it, a sudden absence in his awareness. A void where connection had been.

His orchids. The beautiful, luminous anchors he had planted across the battlefield. They were dying.

The first one shattered with a sound like breaking glass. A manta ray, driven by its puppetmaster's coordination, had crashed directly into the five-meter-tall bloom, obliterating it in a spray of petals and chakra residue. Then another fell, crushed under the stampeding advance of the sandworm-creatures. A third was caught in the edge of a mercenary's desperate fire jutsu, immolated as collateral damage.

`No... no no no...` The thought escaped Shin before he could contain it, broadcasting across the entire Mind Thread network. His Genjutsu, the Mental Unbinding and Phobophobia that had been keeping the enemy forces destabilized, began to fade. Without the anchors to channel his influence, the widespread psychic assault collapsed like a house of cards.

Almost immediately, the change was palpable. Enemy mercenaries who had been cowering in fear suddenly straightened, confusion giving way to renewed aggression. The unnatural terror that had gripped them evaporated, replaced by the cold professionalism of hired killers who remembered their training. Within seconds, the battlefield dynamic shifted. What had been a rout was becoming a legitimate fight again.

"There it is," Jigoku laughed, her Sharingan catching the moment Shin's confidence wavered. "The Sage of End Times, brought low by broken flowers. How poetic. Five seconds, gentlemen. Four. Three..."

Shin's phoenixes, the Nevermore constructs that had been harrying enemies across the battlefield, suddenly found themselves under concentrated fire. With the fear effect gone, the mercenaries could think clearly, could coordinate. Multiple jutsu lanced upward, striking the ethereal birds and causing them to dissipate in bursts of red and blue flame. One by one, Shin's aerial advantage disappeared.

The situation was collapsing faster than he could adapt.

Shin's hands moved through seals almost unconsciously, a technique he had hoped he wouldn't need. Chakra coalesced in the air before him, shaping itself into a small, elegant form. A messenger bird, not one of his combat phoenixes, but something far more delicate. It materialized fully in less than a second, perched on his outstretched gauntleted hand. The creature was barely larger than a sparrow, its feathers the color of desert twilight, its eyes bright with borrowed intelligence.

"Find Lord Toraono Michino," Shin commanded, his voice low but urgent. He pressed his forehead briefly against the bird's, transferring memory and intent directly through chakra. "Show him this. All of this. Tell him... tell him his fellow Kazekage requests reinforcement. The Baron Twins have played their hand, and we're drowning in it."

The bird chirped once, a sound surprisingly clear amid the chaos, then launched itself into the air. It climbed rapidly, its small form easily avoiding the larger combat creatures, threading through the fog with preternatural grace. Within moments, it had cleared the battlefield entirely, streaking toward the village proper where the legendary Toraono Michino maintained his vigil.

Shin turned back to the duel before him just as Jigoku counted down the final second.

"Zero."

---

---

The battlefield had transformed into a three-dimensional nightmare of coordination and chaos. With Shin's Genjutsu anchors destroyed, the psychological advantage that Sunagakure had held evaporated like morning dew under the harsh desert sun. Enemy mercenaries rallied, their professionalism reasserting itself now that the unnatural terror had lifted. They formed proper combat lines, covered each other's flanks, and began pushing back against the scattered Sunagakure forces with renewed vigor.

The Epsilon formations that Shin had ordered were holding, barely. Teams of four huddled behind hastily erected barriers as the countdown to Akkuma's cataclysm reached its final moments. Some of the more experienced Jounin had managed to raise impressive defensive structures: multi-layered stone domes reinforced with chakra, sand walls compressed to the density of concrete, even a few experimental barriers that attempted to redirect rather than absorb the incoming damage.

But not everyone had made it to cover in time.

A squad of three Genin, caught in the open while engaging a group of mercenaries, looked up at the corrupted sun above with expressions of dawning horror. Their squad leader, a Chuunin with barely two years of field experience, screamed for them to run, to find anything to hide behind. They scattered, diving toward the nearest dune, knowing even as they ran that they wouldn't make it.

Near the crater's western edge, a veteran Sunaku clan member finished her hand seals and slammed her palms into the sand. A massive wall of compressed silicon erupted from the ground, easily twenty feet tall and thick enough to stop a charging elephant. Half a dozen younger shinobi dove behind it, trusting in the Sunaku's mastery of their element. She held the wall firm, chakra pouring into it, reinforcing every grain even as sweat poured down her face.

The mercenary forces, lacking the warning that Shin had provided to his own troops, suddenly found themselves in a panic. Some of the smarter ones had recognized the building chakra signature overhead for what it was and were already fleeing, abandoning the battle entirely in favor of survival. Others, either braver or more foolish, tried to form their own defensive positions, but without the coordination and training of village shinobi, their efforts were haphazard at best.

The manta rays continued their assault despite the impending cataclysm, driven by their puppetmaster's will. They showed no sense of self-preservation, no instinct to flee from the growing threat above. They were tools, nothing more, and tools did not fear their own destruction. Several had been wounded by Sunagakure's defenders, deep gashes across their underbellies leaked viscous fluid that sizzled when it hit the sand, but they fought on with mechanical determination.

The sandworm-creatures that had emerged from the secondary cocoons reached the battlefield's edge just as the final seconds ticked away. They scattered across the sand with horrifying speed, each one targeting a different isolated shinobi or small group. Their mandibles clicked with anticipation, venom dripping from curved fangs. One leaped at a Medical-nin who had been tending to a wounded Chuunin, only to be intercepted mid-air by a perfectly timed lightning jutsu that fried it instantly. Another managed to latch onto a Main Branch shinobi's leg, its mandibles crunching through armor before the victim's teammate decapitated it with a wind blade.

In the fog-shrouded heart of the battlefield, where Akkuma held Jigoku and Shin prepared for impact, the temperature had risen to unbearable levels. The combination of Jigoku's defensive flames and the building heat from the Sol Fire Tempest above created a pocket of superheated air that shimmered and warped. Any shinobi who ventured too close risked heat exhaustion at best, severe burns at worst.

And then, finally, the ten-second delay expired.

The corrupted sun fell.

The Desert Tendril erupted.

The world became fire and earth and screaming.

Upon hearing that one guy, who seems to be the leader of the small group Kureji had helped defend, his blood started to boil. He is someone that cares deeply about having freedom, being a free spirit. "I'll call you Sandy." He pet the Sandta Ray, trying to soothe it. "I'll liberate you from the chains that force you to do as they please. One way or another." Just then, Sandy flew high up into the air, doing barrel rolls in the process. He let his claws sink into the majestic creature, ignoring any pained cries that it might make, along with focusing chakra to his feet to grab better hold of the creature. Even in his fits of laughter, from driving himself insane, he managed to slow down his breathing, knowing that is necessary in order to stay conscious. Frost started to form on his skin, his demon form faded away. The frost reminded him of.... His eyes twitched, thinking of his father and how he had turned him into some type of crystaline freak after being on time stasis for a while.

His father.... The Demon of the Sands... Kureji has come to the realization now, yes now. Having the demonic ancestry in his blood... It makes him just a step closer to being just like his father. No.... He will not be like his father! This borrowed power he has from some random demon in Fire Country has served little to no purpose for him! This is his realization that he can be so much more than what he has given himself credit for. Time and time again his powers changed, but for the first time, he knows what he needs to be. His name will be known throughout the whole world as a famous rockstar.

Down in his arena technique, the technique is in sync with his mind, and even though he has yet to cast another genjutsu, a song would play, one that would probably lift the spirits of the sand ninja though there was no chakra in it to boost them.

Patting Sandy softly on the top of her, if it is a her, head before launching himself off and into the air. Was it stupid since he was so high up? Yes. But in the few seconds he has to assess the situation, he would see three figures. He would glide as best as he can to where they are and then use pressure burst, hopefully timing it right, aiming at the ground to soften his landing. Getting up and brushing the sand off of him, he would look at the three.

A thought had hit him... Long ago, when he was last in Wind Country, he met a woman while rocking out. She was strange, however she is not what made him think about that moment. But rather... How he summoned a rather... mate-looking Sandworm to the party. There is so much going on that he is actually surprised that more aren't in the area. That's when he has an idea. Before the eyes of the trio that stood before him, they would see that his claws would turn into regular hands, in fact, most of his physical features would change. Not like that would change his powers, no. But he always had an affinity to music. Four guitars would appear, one for him, and three for the trio thanks to his abilities to literally think of things coming into existence. "We're going to have a game. I call it Guitar Shinobi. Whoever rocks the hardest will get the title of King of the Desert. Winner kills the other." He looks out to all the fighting and the impending doom of the Sol Fire Tempest. "I hate them all. Akkuma I hate the most." He turned his attention to the trio, "But controlling those magnificent beasts against their own wills makes me hate you even more." With that, his fingers would play the guitar at great speeds, faster than ever before, only ever achieved when he once had the Cadency core ability. That power will run through him once more as he cast aside the powers of a demon for something that means more to him. Whether or not it works, he would boost the sound to the highest that it can go, vibrating the immediate area around him, using this time to also attack their senses, starting with their audial senses. The powers of a cadency ninja allows him to target multiple people at once with genjutsu, such a thing is easy for him. But this is all just a ruse. He wants to summon as much wild sand worms and manta rays not under these guys' control. Everyone has a limit, and it would make sense that these dudes also have limits as well.

Next, he would attack their sight. Controlling the creatures would be harder if they can't see. And finally, he would just rock out in front of them, to again, try to attract as much lonely sandworms and manta rays as possible. The many vibrations from just this one spot surely would warrant some type of attention. The Sol Fire Tempest would hit, Kureji being in the ever big blast radius would make Kureji grit his teeth, but he'll push on as he would hit a new song.


(topic marked for core ability change to Cadency)
(1 ap: pressure burst the ground to not die on impact)
(3 ap: chakra ravage on all 3. Able to target with help of cadency mental sonata)
(2 ap: verse of darkness on all 3, stated as above)
(4 ap: rocking out, using this link to hopefully get some wild lonely sandworms into the immediate area to really test the limits of puppet dude,)

Fear was one thing the boy had no idea of. This was another example. He was told something scary was about to happen, but he showed no fear. His eyes only held curiosity as he looked up to the sky. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he would turn towards his group. He had to be quick in this moment, not thinking of the odd stranger who was helping them at that moment.

Lulu, the monkey contract, already sensed the intentions of the young Hyuuga. It ran towards him as Ryota made sure that there would be a barrier up. He heard through Shin that it had to be anything earth-related… That's sand, earth, anything. He created sigils at a rapid speed. He made a complex barrier with the elemental nature of the earth. It was just big enough to cover the whole group inside it. “Cuddle up, you bagoons,” he commanded to the group that was left so far, the barrier translucent with the color of earth shining through.


He waited, waited for that giant thing to fall, and once it did, Ryota had to close his eyes because of the impact, the bright lights, and the moment he thought sand would get in his eyes, he closed them. His barrier barely made it through, the deep ringing slowly faded from his ears as he looked around for his group, seeing not all made it in, he would straighten his back. That puppet master was highly annoying with his mechanical beast.


Music started to fill the ears later, and everyone at first was confused before they looked in the direction, the group, the monkey, and Ryota all saw it coming from the rogue shinobi. It was drawing out the screams a bit. Grinning Ryota stood up. “Oi… if you cannot defend a little against sandworms… are we really the better shinobi part?” he asked his contract, who shook its head. A grin spread wider, part of nervousness. “Exactly… let’s rumble for real now.”


He took a stance that those familiar with the Hyuuga would know this stance already, something gentle about it, but with a hint of being bold to it. He would make a small shift in balance before making his buffing taijutsu, furthering his vision by using the chakra vision scan. Counting those who were near enough. His gaze would harden as he coated his fists in electrical surge… And then, the thing Hyuuga were best known for… The palm strikes, 64 of them.


[A-Rank [M] Nature’s Guard - Special Action Earth. Around self and group.]

[ stance Gentle touch. ]

[ Used Eight Trigrams: Air Palm - Buffing Taijutsu, to make sure I can hit airborn targets too.]

[ Used Chakra Vision Scan - Independent Special Move to scan for all the rays near.]

[Thunderfirst [M] used for self. coating the hands in electriical dmg.]

[Eight Trigrams: Palm Strike - Unarmed Taijutsu 64 Palms. <.< >.> damn you rays. ]

The cataclysms descended like the wrath of forgotten gods, his corrupted black sun that was the Sol Fire Tempest plummeting from the roiling heavens. In a blaze of unholy inferno, it slammed into the heart of the battlefield, with a deafening roar that shattered the air. Flames erupted in an insatiable firestorm, cursed tendrils of corrupted energy licking across the dunes, charring flesh & igniting screams. Mercenaries twisted in agony as their forms blackened & crumbled, manta rays shrieking as wings melted mid-dive, Sand Worms convulsing in blistering death throes.

A mere moment had past before his Desert Tendrils burst fourth from the sands in a cataclysmic bloom, a vast web-like labyrinth of jagged, branching spikes erupting in irregular fury, impaling all in their merciless path. Bodies were skewered & hoisted aloft, life-draining curses pulsing through veins as blood painted the golden wastes crimson. Sunagakure's forces endured behind their hasty barriers, stone domes cracking but holding, sand walls compressing to shield the faithful; a testament to disciplined resolved amid the apocalypse that had been wrought upon the battlefield.

Yet as the Suffocating Fog finally dissipated in the wake of such devastation, vapours boiling away under the tempest's heat. The cratered expanse revealed a tableau of ruin; pyres of smouldering corpses, spike-riddled husks twitching in final spasms, air thick with the acrid reek of charred meat & spilled ichor. Akkuma's Dark Sage aura thrummed unabated, it's voracious tendrils rending chakra & life from the dying & defiant alike. Funnelling stolen essence into his reaper form; ashen skin glistening, abyssal eyes weeping void, tattered cloak of darkness billowing like harvested souls. His Chakra Sense locked unerringly on Jigoku, the Defiled Touch still festering upon her blade like a lover's curse, siphoning her fire even now.

Through it all his gauntleted grip, clamped around her like the jaws of oblivion. Holding the Uchiha kunoichi fast in their Grapple, her defensive flames warring against his regenerative flesh, superheating the air between them into a shimmering inferno. She burned, her ornate crimson armour scorched & pitted, Sharingan tomoe spinning in defiant fury. Yet she endured, defiant spark amid the slaughter that she was. Kureji's distant wail of rock & Genjutsu madness pierced the chaos, drawing the wild beasts into the puppet master's fray. A fleeting amusement that drew a predatory smirk from Akkuma. 'Disrupt their strings my boy...' he mused silently. 'Let them see the discord within you that I saw that first day.'

"You foolish child," Akkuma's voice rumbled forth like the groan of tectonic graves, laced with ancient disappointment as he leaned close, hot breath ghosting her ear amid the dying flames of chaos. "Only your comrades fall here today, reduced to ash & bone in my storm. Mine? They live on. We shall resurrect them if need be; such feats are not beyond our medical prowess. But you...you shall endure. Oh yes, you & I are going to become well acquainted in the days to come."

Harnessing the Sunaku clan's Iyashiikami branch blood rites, a gift he received from the Goddess of the Deep. He invoked their technique known as Supaisu; causing his veins to part in ritual savagery, birthing a torrent of glistening sand from his very essence, grains cascading around them like a living shroud, ready to fuel the abyss he commanded.

No pause followed; with a surge of corrupted chakra, the Avatar of Barnyx erupted from the dune-torn earth. A colossal Sand Worm of divine likeness, a behemoth of writhing, god-forged fury. Its maw a cavernous abyss that lead into a churning maelstrom of sword-like teeth. Gigantic & relentless, it coiled protectively as Akkuma invoked One with the Sands. Expending the newborn grains for its tether; merging in a seamless fusion, his form dissolving into the worm's armoured bulk.

It enveloped him like an impenetrable aegis, the beast's vitality refreshing eternally, shielding him utterly from the lingering onslaught's fringes as spikes & embers glanced harmlessly off its hide. Jigoku, held fast in his grasp yet exposed beyond the fusion's embrace, bore the full brunt; flames warring futilely against the cataclysm's wrath, her body would be battered by fire & spike in the Great Worm's shadow.

As the worm's bulk stabilized their perch amid the devastation, Akkuma reformed partially within its sands. With Jigoku now free from his grasp, he wove the hand seals for Supreme Aqua Realm; a colossal dome of churning water, attempting to erupt around them both, if successful it would trap the Uchiha in its suffocating depths. Infused with his chakra, he breathed freely while she faltered, with every passing moment she was at peril of drowning. This new arena isolated them in a private abyss where none could intervene, her movements impaired, while his strikes would be unhindered.

"You crave purpose in death?" he monologued, voice a silken dirge bubbling through the aqueous prison, as his right gauntlet thrust forth in a Basic Strike Called shot to her heart. Obsidian claws attempting to rake out with lethal precision to her vital core. "I deny you even that." The left followed seamlessly, another Basic Strike Called Shot aiming directly for her head. "Your Twins will weep unavenged...while you will whisper secrets in my keeping." his words no mere empty threat, but a decree of her newly assigned Fate.

The worm pulsed beneath them, the watery dome sealed around them & Akkuma savoured the unravelling...acquaintance that was only beginning.

Word Count: 900+

OOC: The Great Worm has entered the scene, Akkuma going all Leto II on Jigoku. xD

---

---

The Pressure Burst detonated against the sand precisely where Kureji aimed it, cushioning what should have been a fatal fall. The shockwave rippled outward in a perfect circle, sending up a spray of sand that momentarily obscured the three figures atop the dune. When the dust settled, the missing-nin stood before them, no longer wearing his demon form—just a man with a guitar and an insane plan.

The puppetmaster's mask tilted, that grotesque painted smile somehow more unsettling in its stillness. His fingers continued their hypnotic dance, threads of sickly green chakra stretching from his fingertips to the creatures still fighting across the battlefield. The two bodyguards shifted, their massive tetsubos coming off their shoulders into ready positions. The symbol of the intertwined serpents—the Baron Twins' mark—gleamed dully on their blackened armor.

"Guitar Shinobi?" The puppetmaster's voice was surprisingly melodious, almost amused, drifting from behind the cracked porcelain. "How... creative. But creativity alone won't sever my strings, musician."

Then Kureji began to play.

The Chakra Ravage technique hit first, woven through impossible guitar riffs that no ordinary human should be able to execute. The sound wasn't just loud—it was weaponized, targeting the auditory system with surgical precision. The puppetmaster's fingers faltered, just for a moment, as one of his hands flew to the side of his mask. Several of the chakra threads flickered and thinned. One of the bodyguards staggered, his tetsubo dipping as he brought a gauntleted hand to his helmet. A thin line of blood began to seep from beneath the visor's edge.

The Verse of Darkness followed seamlessly, the genjutsu carried on waves of amplified sound. The puppetmaster's mask snapped left and right, movements jerky and uncertain. His threads writhed in the air, no longer following the precise patterns they had maintained before. Out across the battlefield, the effects were immediate—manta rays that had been diving in perfect formation suddenly scattered, their trajectories erratic. Sandworms breached the surface at odd angles, thrashing without coordination.

"My eyes—what have you—"

But the third technique drowned out the protest. Kureji's playing shifted registers, the vibrations dropping into frequencies that resonated through sand and stone. It was a call, primal and irresistible, the kind of sound that spoke to creatures who lived in darkness and hunted by tremor-sense alone.

And the desert answered.

From beyond the crater's rim, from deep beneath the dunes, they came. Wild young sandworms with no master, their carapaces scarred from years of desert survival, drawn by vibrations that promised food or territory to fight for. They erupted from sand in a chaotic wave, and they made no distinction between controlled creatures and anything else in their path.

A massive wild sandworm, easily twice the size of the puppetmaster's creations, burst from the sand directly beside one of the bodyguards. Its mandibles spread wide, venom dripping from curved fangs that could pierce steel. The bodyguard barely managed to swing his tetsubo, the iron club connecting with the creature's segmented armor in a shower of sparks. But the impact only enraged it, and two more wild worms were already surfacing behind him.

The second bodyguard found himself facing three feral sand worms that dove at him simultaneously, screeching territorial challenges. He raised his tetsubo defensively, but the creatures were attacking from different angles, forcing him to choose which threat to address first.

The puppetmaster's threads were at their breaking point. His hands moved frantically, trying to maintain control of his own creatures while blind and partially deaf, unable to distinguish his puppets from the wild attackers flooding his position. Several threads snapped entirely, and the creatures they'd been controlling went limp, dropping from the sky or collapsing into the sand.

"Fall back!" the puppetmaster shouted to his bodyguards. "Defensive formation! We need—"

A wild sand worm the size of a small house dove at the puppetmaster himself, forcing him to abandon his position atop the dune. He rolled aside, threads snapping as his concentration finally broke completely. Half of his remaining controlled creatures went dormant instantly, collapsing wherever they stood.

The coordinated assault that had been devastating Sunagakure's forces was fragmenting before Kureji's symphony of chaos.

---

---

The earthen barrier shattered as Ryota released it, fragments of hardened sand falling away to reveal the squad huddled within. The young Hyuuga's Byakugan swept the immediate area, counting heads, assessing damage. Four of them had made it into the barrier. But his squad should have been five including himself.

The music from Kureji's position cut through the post-cataclysm haze, an incongruous sound of rock and roll amid screaming and death. Whatever the missing-nin was doing, it was working—Ryota could see through his enhanced vision that the puppetmaster's threads were destabilizing, control slipping.

The manta rays were diving again, but their movements were jerky now, uncoordinated. Three of them converged on Ryota's position, their underbellies exposed during the aggressive descent. Those soft, vulnerable points that his Byakugan had identified earlier.

The Eight Trigrams: Air Palm technique activated, extending Ryota's reach beyond normal taijutsu limits. Thunderfist coated his hands in crackling electrical chakra, azure lightning that hissed against the desert air. The Gentle Touch stance settled into his bones like an old friend.

The first manta ray was already committed to its dive, unable to alter course. Ryota's opening palm strike launched through the air, a visible burst of pressurized wind and electrical energy. It struck the creature's exposed underbelly dead center.

The manta's shriek was like tearing metal. Its body convulsed mid-flight, electrical energy arcing across its form. The dive became a barely-controlled fall, the creature slamming into the sand thirty meters away and thrashing weakly.

The second manta tried to bank away, some survival instinct overriding its compromised puppet programming. But Ryota was already flowing through the forms, each palm strike building on the last with the mathematical precision the Hyuuga were famous for. Two strikes. Four. Eight. Sixteen. Each one launched as a pressurized burst that bridged the distance between ground and sky.

The strikes hammered into the creature's underbelly in rapid succession. Electrical chakra detonated with each impact, disrupting the manta's ability to maintain flight. By the thirty-second palm strike, the creature was listing badly, one wing barely responding. By the forty-eighth, it was spiraling out of control.

The third manta, perhaps benefiting from its controller's last desperate attempt to salvage the assault, dove from a higher angle. Its trajectory would bring it crashing down on top of Ryota's entire squad in seconds. Behind him, he could hear his team members shouting, scrambling for cover that didn't exist.

Ryota's Chakra Vision Scan had already mapped its exact position, predicted its path. The final sixteen palm strikes of the Sixty-Four Palms technique launched in perfect sequence, each one adjusted for the creature's speed and angle. The electrical discharges lit up the sky like a lightning storm compressed into three seconds.

The last palm strike caught the manta just as it reached the apex of its dive. The entire technique's accumulated electrical energy detonated across its nervous system in one overwhelming surge.

The creature's wings locked. Its momentum carried it forward, but no longer in a controlled dive—just dead weight falling. It crashed into the sand fifteen meters from Ryota's position, sending up a massive spray of sand and creating a new crater beside the old one.

For a moment, there was relative silence. Just the sound of labored breathing, Kureji's distant music, and the chaos of the puppetmaster's position being overrun by wild creatures.

Through his Byakugan, Ryota could see the puppetmaster clearly now. The enemy was off his dune, surrounded by wild sandworms and manta rays, his bodyguards fighting defensively. More importantly, his control threads were thinned to breaking point. The man was struggling just to maintain what little control he had left.

The opening was there. Someone just needed to take it.

---

---

The Supreme Aqua Realm sealed them away from the rest of the battle, a massive dome of churning water that cut them off completely. Within his private arena, Akkuma could breathe freely through his merged connection with the Avatar of Barnyx, while Jigoku found herself surrounded by suffocating liquid.

But the Uchiha was not drowning.

Her body temperature spiked dramatically, steam erupting from her form in massive plumes. The water immediately around her superheated, creating a pocket of breathable air within the aquatic prison. It wasn't enough to boil the entire dome—Akkuma's chakra was too strong, the volume too vast—but it kept her conscious, kept her fighting. The Sharingan continued to spin, tracking his movements even through the distortion of water and steam.

Akkuma's first Called Shot struck toward her heart, his obsidian claws raking across her chest plate with enough force to shear through normal armor. The Defiled Touch on her blade pulsed sympathetically, siphoning her chakra even as he attacked her body directly. The claws screeched against the reinforced metal of her ornate armor, leaving deep furrows in the crimson plates. The armor held—barely—but the impact drove her backward through the water, blood seeping from where the claws had found gaps between plates.

The second Called Shot came faster, targeting her head. But those spinning tomoe had tracked the first attack, predicted the trajectory, calculated the timing. Jigoku twisted with desperate speed, and the claws that should have crushed her skull instead carved across her shoulder. The pauldron sheared away entirely, and blood clouded the water as the strike found flesh.

"You want my secrets, Demon?" Her voice carried through the water, distorted but clear. "You want to know what the Twins told me before they sent me here?"

Her hands moved through seals even underwater, each gesture precise despite the resistance. Fire chakra condensed around her wounded arm, impossibly bright in the aquatic environment. This was master-level technique work—using fire jutsu underwater required such precise chakra control that most shinobi would never achieve it.

"They said Chikamatsu Shin is the key to everything. That whoever controls him controls Sunagakure's fate."

She launched forward through the water, her fire-wreathed fist creating a tunnel of steam as it hurtled toward the section of the massive sandworm where Akkuma's consciousness was densest. The punch connected with the Avatar's hide, and for a heartbeat, nothing happened.

Then the fire chakra detonated.

The explosion superheated the water around the impact point, creating a massive bubble of steam that expanded violently. The Avatar of Barnyx convulsed, its colossal form thrashing as the detonation blasted through layers of sand and corrupted flesh. A section of the worm's hide blackened and cracked, and through Akkuma's merged consciousness, the pain was immediate and significant.

But the Avatar did not die. The sand was already rushing to fill the wound, grains cascading from Akkuma's earlier Supaisu technique to repair the damage. The worm's form rippled and reformed, the wound closing as more material rushed to reinforce the breach.

"They know about your bond with him," Jigoku continued, circling now within her steam pocket, maintaining distance. "About what happened with Wei. About how Shin broke, and who put him back together. They know your loyalty to him is exploitable."

Her Sharingan spun faster, analyzing the worm's structure, looking for weak points, calculating angles of attack. "The Baron Twins didn't send me to kill you, Sage. They sent me to test you. To see if you'd sacrifice him to win. To see if your darkness would consume him when pressed."

The Defiled Touch on her blade pulsed again, siphoning more chakra. Her armor was damaged, her shoulder bleeding freely into the water, and maintaining the fire chakra to create her breathing pocket was draining her reserves rapidly. But her eyes held no fear, only calculation.

"So here's my offer, Demon of Mist. Let me go, and I'll tell you where they are. Let me go, and I'll tell you their real plan—the one that involves more than just oil and mercenaries. The one that threatens everyone you've ever sworn to protect."

The Avatar of Barnyx's maw opened wide, revealing the churning maelstrom of teeth within. Around them, the Supreme Aqua Realm continued to churn, cutting them off from any outside interference. The battlefield beyond might as well have been another world.

The choice—if it could even be called a choice—was Akkuma's to make.

---

---

The messenger bird vanished into the distance, carrying Shin's plea for reinforcement to Michino. For a heartbeat, vulnerability flickered across the Kazekage's features—the admission that he needed help, that he couldn't hold this alone. But the moment passed as quickly as it came, replaced by steely resolve as his sapphire eyes surveyed the cataclysm unfolding below.

Akkuma's dual devastation struck like the wrath of forgotten gods. The Sol Fire Tempest's corrupted sun crashed into the battlefield's heart with a roar that shattered air and sand alike. Cursed flames devoured mercenaries and creatures indiscriminately, their screams cut short as flesh blackened and crumbled. The Desert Tendril erupted simultaneously, a maze of jagged spikes bursting from beneath the sand to impale everything in its path. Bodies were hoisted skyward, skewered on cursed stone that drained the life from their twitching forms.

Shin's wings beat strongly, pushing him up above the carnage as he assessed the damage. The Epsilon formations had mostly held—stone domes cracked but standing, sand walls compressed to concrete density still sheltering huddled shinobi. But not everyone had made it to cover in time.

Three Genin lay motionless in the open, their young bodies caught by the edge of the firestorm. Their squad leader knelt beside them, shaking, unable to process what had just happened. Shin's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to keep counting. Sixteen more casualties scattered across the western perimeter. A Sunaku clan member's sand wall had collapsed under the assault, crushing two of the people she'd been trying to protect even as it saved four others.

The cost of victory was measured in the bodies of his people.

Through his fading Mind Thread network, Shin caught glimpses of Ryota's squad—the young Hyuuga's precise strikes bringing down manta rays with mathematical efficiency. Further out, Kureji's insane symphony was literally tearing the puppetmaster's control apart, wild creatures flooding the enemy position in response to those impossible guitar riffs. Both were holding their own, buying precious time.

But Shin's attention snapped to the massive water dome where Akkuma had sealed himself and Jigoku away. The churning sphere cut them off completely, and through the distortion, Shin could barely make out the shadow of the Avatar of Barnyx and the flashes of fire chakra as the Uchiha fought for her life. Or was she fighting for something else entirely?

`The puppetmaster's control is breaking. Ryota and Kureji have created an opening. All units, if you can still hear me—press the advantage. Don't let their sacrifice be for nothing.`

But even as he sent the thought, Shin felt the network fraying further. Another orchid shattered under a mercenary's desperate jutsu. Another anchor lost. The widespread fear and confusion that had been devastating the enemy ranks was evaporating like morning dew, replaced by the cold professionalism of trained killers remembering their purpose.

The mercenaries were rallying. Reforming combat lines. Covering each other's flanks with renewed coordination.

Shin's sapphire eyes blazed brighter as he made his assessment. Without the anchors, his usual tactics were useless against this many enemies. He could rebuild the network, plant new orchids, weave new threads of fear and madness through their ranks—but that would take time they didn't have. Minutes that would cost lives.

Or he could end it now.

His gaze fell on the enemy commander rallying the mercenary forces—a scarred veteran with the twins' serpent mark emblazoned across his armor, shouting orders that were actually being followed. The man was still reeling from Shin's earlier Genjutsu, Mental Unbinding and Phobophobia leaving lingering fractures in his psyche even as his training pushed through the fear. Those cracks were still there. Still vulnerable.

Shin had never used Somnal Eclipse in combat before. The technique was theoretical, developed during his long months of intense study before Wei's torture, refined in quiet meditation when he couldn't sleep. It required a target already suffering under multiple Genjutsu, used their own compromised chakra system against them, turned every foreign influence into a weapon that would tear them apart from within.

The cost would be severe. His chakra reserves were already strained from maintaining Sage Mode, from the widespread techniques he'd deployed earlier, from coordinating the entire battlefield through the Mind Thread network. Somnal Eclipse would drain what little he had left.

He would have to burn his life force to fuel it.

"So long as I draw breath," Shin whispered, his voice carrying across the battlefield with preternatural clarity, "Sunagakure will never fall."

His armor cracked audibly as golden light—his very life essence—began to bleed through the fractures in the metal plates. Not chakra. Something deeper. The fundamental energy that separated the living from the dead, now burning like fuel in a forge. His phoenix wings blazed brighter, red and blue flames intensifying until they were almost painful to look at directly.

"For I am the Kazekage."

The enemy commander felt it first—a sudden, terrible pressure in his chest as every Genjutsu affecting him suddenly condensed, converged, became something far worse. The fear Shin had planted earlier, the mental unbinding that had fractured his thoughts, all of it crystallized into a single point of absolute rejection. His own chakra coil turned against itself, overwhelmed by the concentrated foreign chakra the Sage had woven into his system.

Somnal Eclipse.

The commander's scream cut off as his body seized. For a heartbeat, he stood frozen, every muscle locked. Then he collapsed, blood streaming from his eyes and ears as his chakra system suffered catastrophic failure. He wouldn't die—Shin had calibrated the technique with surgical precision—but he wouldn't move again for weeks, possibly months.

The effect on the mercenary forces was immediate and devastating. Their commander had just been struck down by an invisible attack, dropped by a technique they couldn't see, couldn't defend against, couldn't even comprehend. The rallying cry died on their lips as they watched their leader fall.

Fear returned in a wave that needed no Genjutsu to sustain it.

But the cost...

Shin's wings flickered, the ethereal flames guttering like candles in a storm. More cracks spider-webbed across his armor, golden light bleeding from every fracture. His breathing came harder, each inhale a conscious effort. The world tilted slightly, and he had to beat his wings hard just to maintain altitude.

Worth it. Every drop of life force spent was worth it if it kept his people alive.

`Enemy command is neutralized. All units, push forward. Make them break. Make them run.`

The tide was turning. He could feel it, see it in the way the mercenaries were starting to scatter, in how the coordinated assault was fracturing into desperate survival. They had come to destroy Sunagakure, to choke the underground village with sequential charges and watch thousands suffocate in the dark.

Instead, they were witnessing what it meant to stand against a Kage who would burn his own life to protect his home.

Shin's sapphire eyes, dimmed but still blazing with determination, swept across the battlefield one more time. Ryota's squad was pushing the advantage against the remaining manta rays. Kureji's wild symphony had the puppetmaster completely on the defensive. And Akkuma—whatever was happening in that water dome, the Demon of Mist and Sand would handle it.

The Kazekage allowed himself one small, pained smile as golden light continued to bleed from his cracked armor.

They would survive this. Sunagakure would endure.

So long as he still drew breath.

---

---

The desert had been transformed into a hellscape of fire, blood, and shattered stone. Where once orderly dunes had stretched toward the horizon, now only craters and glass-fused sand remained. The twin cataclysms had reshaped the very topology of the battlefield, and what emerged from the smoke and settling dust was a picture of devastation that would haunt the survivors for years to come.

SUNAGAKURE FORCES - STATUS:

• Casualties: Confirmed twenty-three dead, twenty-seven wounded (eight critical, nineteen stable). The three Genin caught in the open by the Sol Fire Tempest were killed instantly. Two more died when a Sunaku sand wall collapsed. The remaining casualties were scattered across various positions—victims of the Desert Tendril spikes, mercenary counterattacks, or the manta ray assaults before Ryota's intervention.
• Epsilon Formations: Seven of the original nine teams remain combat-effective. Stone domes and compressed sand walls are cracked but holding. Medical-nin are already moving between positions, stabilizing the wounded. Veterans are rallying the shaken rookies, reforming defensive lines even as they prepare to press the advantage.
• Morale: Shaken but recovering rapidly. Shin's Somnal Eclipse display and his declaration as Kazekage have rekindled fighting spirit in some. Witnessing the enemy commander's collapse to an invisible attack has given Suna forces renewed confidence—if their Kage can do that, they can win this.
• Mind Thread Network: Severely degraded but still partially functional. Only a few orchid anchors remain intact. Shin can maintain communication with forces within visual range of those flowers, but the widespread coordination he enjoyed earlier is gone.

ENEMY FORCES - STATUS:

• Mercenary Casualties: Catastrophic. The friendly-fire cataclysm killed or incapacitated approximately sixty percent of the enemy forces. Charred bodies litter the crater's edges. Spike-impaled corpses are hoisted skyward like grotesque monuments. Those who survived did so through luck, quick reflexes, or by abandoning the fight entirely to flee to safe distance.
• Current Strength: Approximately forty mercenaries remain combat-capable, down from over one hundred at the battle's start. Most are injured, all are demoralized. The commander's sudden collapse has shattered their cohesion completely.
• Morale: Broken. Witnessing their commander fall to an invisible attack was the final straw. Small groups are already fleeing toward the dunes, abandoning the fight entirely. Those who remain are fighting defensively, trying to create opportunities to retreat rather than actually engaging Suna forces.
• Puppetmaster Position: The enemy's greatest tactical asset is completely overwhelmed. Kureji's wild creatures have forced him off his elevated position. His control threads are at breaking point, with more snapping by the second. His bodyguards are fighting defensively against wild sandworms and feral manta rays, unable to protect their master effectively.

CREATURE STATUS:

• Controlled Manta Rays: Three remain airborne, but their movements are erratic and uncoordinated. Ryota's electrical assaults have killed or disabled five others. Without proper puppetmaster control, they're operating on base survival instinct—dangerous but no longer tactically coordinated.
• Controlled Sandworms: Most have gone dormant as the puppetmaster's threads snapped. Several lie motionless in the sand, their cocoon origins revealed. A few still thrash weakly, but pose minimal threat.
• Wild Creatures: This is the chaos factor. Kureji's symphony has drawn dozens of feral sandworms to the battlefield. They're attacking everything indiscriminately—mercenaries, controlled creatures, even occasionally Suna forces who get too close. The largest wild sandworm, easily fifteen meters long, is currently engaged with one of the puppetmaster's bodyguards in what can only be described as a titanic wrestling match.

ENVIRONMENTAL DAMAGE:

• Primary Crater: The original blast site has been expanded by Akkuma's cataclysm. Now measures approximately fifty meters in diameter, twenty meters deep at the center. The walls are glass-fused sand that glitters with an oily, corrupted sheen—residue from the cursed chakra.
• Secondary Craters: At least a dozen smaller impact sites where manta rays crashed, where the Desert Tendril spikes erupted, where jutsu detonated with catastrophic force. The landscape is completely unrecognizable from the orderly dunes that existed thirty minutes ago.
• Air Quality: Still hazardous. Particulate matter from the explosions, corrupted fog residue from Akkuma's earlier techniques, and the acrid smell of burned flesh all combine into a choking haze. Those without air filtration are coughing, eyes watering, visibility reduced to roughly fifty meters in most areas.
• Temperature: Extreme heat near the primary crater where the Sol Fire Tempest struck. Glass-fused sand is still cooling, radiating waves of heat that create shimmering mirages. Further out, the desert's natural temperature has been disrupted—pockets of superheated air mixing with cooler zones, creating unpredictable wind currents.

TACTICAL SITUATION:

• Momentum: Decisively in Sunagakure's favor. The enemy's coordinated assault has fragmented completely. What should have been a devastating siege has turned into a desperate fighting retreat.
• Key Objectives: The puppetmaster remains the highest-value target. If captured or killed, any remaining controlled creatures will be rendered harmless. His bodyguards are engaged with wild creatures, creating a window of opportunity.
• Time Pressure: Minimal reinforcement concerns for the enemy—the Baron Twins themselves have not appeared, suggesting this was indeed a probing attack rather than their full commitment. However, Shin's messenger bird to Michino will take time to arrive. Suna forces are fighting without the guarantee of backup.
• Akkuma's Arena: The massive Supreme Aqua Realm dome remains sealed, cutting the Sennin and Jigoku off from outside interference. Whatever happens there is beyond the scope of the main battlefield—for better or worse.

CRITICAL DEVELOPMENTS:

• Wild creatures summoned by Kureji are creating as much chaos for Suna as they are for the enemy. Several squads are having to divert attention to defend against feral sandworms.
• The mercenaries who fled are not engaging—they're running for the horizon. This suggests they have evacuation protocols or rally points established. If they regroup with reinforcements, the battle could resume.
• Shin's visible deterioration after using Somnal Eclipse has not gone unnoticed. Both allies and enemies can see the golden light bleeding from his cracked armor, see his wings flickering. Friend and foe alike now know the Kazekage is operating on borrowed time.
• The underground tunnel network that prompted this entire conflict remains vulnerable. The original blast site could still collapse further, potentially triggering the cascade suffocation scenario Shin feared at the battle's beginning.

The battlefield had reached a tipping point. Sunagakure held the advantage, but victory was not yet assured. The next few minutes would determine whether this day would be remembered as a triumph or a tragedy.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Kureji would laugh manically, his crazy idea was actually working. Monsters roamed the area as they would sow chaos, ravaging the masked dude and his bros' chakra and then taking away their sight. He would continue to let out crazed chuckles as they would struggle under both his genjutsu and the monsters attacking them. But he wasn't going to stand by and just watch the show, no.

He would cast a weaker genjutsu on all three of the goonies to make them think that they are now bleeding as well to guarantee that their focus will be entirely on the problems that he has made for them. Earth would shake violently as he would laugh more as they would suffer from it all. He would casually walk up to the main guy that was talking to him about needing creativity. "Creativity? Ha! I am the leader of the Devil's Advocates! Actually.... Since I am the last active member, I think I'll change it. I am now the Leader of the Liberators! Rock band all about freedom! And you!" He would grab the man by the scruff of his neck, "are the first person to know what it means to go against the Liberator's!" With that done, he would make all the genjutsu that was casted specifically on the guy in front of him and turn them into a ninjutsu to experience it all more powerful than ever. "Now... Tell me all about your big bosses and I might let you live.

With one hand, he would turn his attention to the wild sandworms that were attacking the sand ninja positions. He sighed, he did cause some discord to the ones that he may have been trying to protect. He would point the end of his guitar at three of the nearest Sandworms and a jet of fire would spray out of his guitar and hopefully hit them. "HEY WORMS!!! I GOT A SNACK FOR YOU!!!" He would turn his attention back to his hostage, "You have until they come our way to answer my questions or else you're sand worm food." But his good graces won't stop there, seeing some glowing guy out further ahead, whom seems to be important to the Sand ninja, seems to be kind of dying maybe, who knows, he had an idea.

Yelling at the top of his lungs, right in the ears of his hostage, out to the Sand Ninja, "PUPPETEERS OF SAND!!!! HERE IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE BRIGHT AND BRING YOUR CREATIONS TO THEIR FULLEST POTENTIAL!!! SHOW EM WHAT YOUR MACHINATIONS CAN DO!!!" Whether they use puppet fusion, flamethrower stream, or audio medic to really turn the tides. Him? His mind made up some puppet weapons, a teddy bear and a microphone, both separate weapons as their vocal boxes would sync with the music that he has started playing for Guitar Shinobi as chakra would flow throughout the battlefield and immediately heal the glowing guy along with two other shinobi of the Sand forces.

maintains
chakra ravage
verse of darkness

1 ap: tourniquet (mastered) on all 3 goonies
2.5 ap: thoughts given form (r2) on puppet dude
2.75 ap: flamethrower stream (mastered) on 3 wild sandworms (to distract and use as interrogation tools against puppet dude)
2.25 ap: audio medic (mastered) with Teddy Bear! and Microphone to heal Shin and two other sand ninja
1 ap: to interrogate puppet dude
0.5 ap: to rally puppet users of Sand