(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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The night had settled quietly over the guest mansion—
Soft lantern light. Calm corridors.
A temporary peace that felt… almost deceptive.
Inside—Mito Uzumaki sat composed, a cup of tea resting in her hands.
"...."
"...."
Beside her—Nawaki leaned back, mid-conversation.
Then—The door slid open.
Tsunade walked in.
No—Marched in.
A large cloth bag slung over her shoulder.
Heavy. Suspiciously heavy.
"...."
Mito's eyes flicked toward it immediately.
One eyebrow rose ever so slightly.
"…What is that?"
That was all it took.
Tsunade puffed up instantly.
Chest out. Chin lifted.
Hair flipped with dramatic precision.
"I won."
A pause.
"…At the casino."
She dropped the bag onto the floor—With a satisfying thud.
-Thud.
Then—With theatrical flair—She opened it.
Coins. Stacks. Money.
A small mountain of victory.
Silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Mito blinked. Once.
-Blink!
Nawaki leaned forward. Then froze.
"...."
Their expressions changed.
Not to excitement. Not to pride.
To concern. Deep. Immediate. Instinctive.
"…You won?"
Nawaki repeated slowly.
Mito placed her teacup down. Very carefully.
"…That's not good."
Tsunade's smile twitched.
-Twitch!
"…Excuse me?"
Nawaki pointed at the bag like it was a ticking explosive tag.
"Last time you won, the roof collapsed the next day!"
"And before that,"
Mito added calmly,
"a mission report went missing and caused a diplomatic issue."
"And before that—"
"Alright, I get it!"
Tsunade snapped hearing them listing all the misfortune happened after she won at the casino.
She crossed her arms. Clearly offended.
"…This is different."
Mito's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Is it?"
A pause.
Tsunade huffed. Then—
"…I had help."
That caught attention.
"…Help?"
Nawaki tilted his head.
Mito's eyes gleamed faintly.
-Gleam!
"…From whom?"
Tsunade hesitated. Just for a second.
"...."
Then—She explained.
The gambling. The losses. The strange turns.
The impossible wins.
"…And he just—"
She gestured vaguely.
"—kept telling me what to do."
Nawaki blinked hearing his sister how she got help.
"…That's cheating."
"It's allowed!"
Tsunade snapped immediately correcting her brother.
Mito, however—Was smiling. Softly. Knowingly.
"…I see."
Tsunade frowned hearing how her grandmother took her words.
"…What?"
Mito leaned slightly forward.
Eyes warm.
But sharp beneath the surface.
"So…"
A small pause.
"You spent the evening sitting beside him …listening to him …and winning because of him."
Tsunade froze how she put the words in.
"…That's not—"
Mito continued, completely ignoring her.
"And then you chased after him."
Nawaki's head snapped toward Tsunade.
"…You chased him?"
"I DID NOT—"
Mito's smile widened just a fraction.
"…And now you've come back …with his influence still lingering."
A beat.
"…How interesting."
Tsunade's face turned red.
Fast.
"That's not what happened!"
Mito tilted her head slightly.
"…Then what did happen?"
Tsunade opened her mouth.
Closed it. Opened it again.
"…He's just—annoying!"
Nawaki blinked hearing his sister's complain.
"…That doesn't sound like a denial."
"SHUT UP!"
Mito chuckled softly.
-Chuckle!
"…Such a troublesome girl."
Tsunade grabbed the bag again—Clearly done with this conversation.
"…I'm going to sleep."
She turned sharply—And walked off.
Then—Halfway—She sped up.
Then—Almost ran.
Door sliding shut behind her.
Silence returned.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Nawaki looked at Mito.
"…So… she definitely likes him, right?"
Mito picked up her tea again.
Calm. Unbothered.
"…It seems she took an interest in him…"
A small sip.
"…fate has quite the sense of humor."
Outside—The night continued.
And somewhere—Unaware or perhaps fully aware—Leo walked beneath the same sky.
While in one room—A certain legendary gambler buried her face into a pillow—Trying very hard—
To ignore the fact—That her luck had finally changed when she was with him.
Even the wind seemed to step lightly, as if unwilling to disturb the night.
Leo walked alone. Measured steps. Unhurried.
Then—His shadow rippled.
Not like a trick of light—But like something alive beneath the surface.
A figure emerged. Kneeling. Head lowered.
One of his Shadow Soldiers.
"Report."
Leo didn't stop walking.
"The Root operatives have been eliminated."
A pause.
"No survivors."
Leo gave a small nod.
-Nod!
"Good."
Simple. Clean. Final.
The soldier dissolved back into the darkness—Returning to where it belonged.
Leo turned. Not toward his mansion—But elsewhere.
A secluded part of Uzushiogakure.
Far from prying eyes. Far from wandering footsteps.
Where silence wasn't just present—It was absolute.
"...."
He stopped.
"…Bring them out."
The shadows obeyed.
The ground darkened. Deepened.
And from it—Bodies emerged.
One by one.
The fallen Root operatives.
Lifeless. Still.
Their forms laid out like discarded pieces on a board long finished.
For a moment—Nothing moved.
Then—Leo spoke. One word.
"Arise."
It wasn't loud. It didn't echo.
But the world heard it.
The shadows beneath the bodies stirred.
Slithered.
Rose—Like ink pulled upward by unseen strings.
And then—One by one—They stood.
Not the bodies.
Their shadows.
Each figure formed from darkness itself—Featureless.
Silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Waiting.
The original bodies remained on the ground.
Empty. Irrelevant.
Leo's gaze swept over them.
Calm. Assessing.
"From this moment…"
His voice was steady. Unquestionable.
"You serve me."
No resistance. No hesitation.
Because shadows—Did not disobey.
The newly risen Shadow Soldiers bowed.
In perfect unison. Leo turned slightly.
"Dispose of the remains."
At once—The Root shadows moved.
They dragged the lifeless bodies—Back into the darkness.
Where they were consumed.
Erased.
Removed from existence as if they had never been.
No graves. No traces. No evidence.
Only—More soldiers.
The night returned to stillness.
Leo stood there for a moment longer.
Watching. Ensuring.
Then—He turned. And walked away.
As if raising an army from the dead—Was nothing more than a routine task.
Behind him—The shadows followed.
Silent. Growing.
Kirigakure...
A village wrapped in fog and sharpened ambition.
Mizukage's chamber...
Inside the Mizukage's chamber—The air was tense.
Heavy with restrained fury.
The envoy had just finished.
Words delivered. Truth… distorted.
"…That is his response."
Silence followed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then—A crack.
The armrest beneath the Mizukage's hand splintered slightly under pressure.
"…Leo Morningstar…"
His voice was low. Dangerously calm.
Not fear. Not doubt.
Anger.
"I should go there myself."
The killing intent in the room spiked—Like a storm threatening to break.
But it didn't. Because reality held him back.
Kirigakure had suffered.
Losses. Instability.
Internal fractures that hadn't fully healed.
War now—Would be reckless.
And he wasn't reckless.
"…No."
A slow exhale.
"We recover. We prepare. And then—"
His eyes hardened.
"We strike."
The envoy bowed slightly.
No further words. Then left.
The chamber fell silent again.
The Mizukage stood there.
Thinking. Calculating. Weighing possibilities.
Then—Something shifted.
A presence. Subtle.
But unmistakable. The air changed.
The shadows stretched unnaturally—Drawn toward the moonlight spilling through the window.
The Mizukage's instincts screamed.
"...."
He turned sharply.
And saw—A man.
Sitting casually on the window frame.
One leg bent. One arm resting lazily.
Still.
Uninvited. Unbothered.
His face was hidden behind a mask.
But one eye—Was visible.
Sharingan Red. Spinning.
Watching.
The Mizukage moved instantly—Chakra surging—Attack forming—Too late.
Their eyes met.
"...."
"...."
And the world—Broke.
The room dissolved.
Reality twisted.
Sound faded into something distant.
The Mizukage's body froze.
Locked.
His mind—Pulled under.
Like sinking into a dark ocean.
"…What—"
The masked man didn't move.
Didn't rush. Didn't attack.
He simply watched.
The Sharingan spun slowly.
And with it—Control. Absolute.
The Mizukage's vision blurred.
His strength faded.
Sleep—Forced.
Unnatural. Unavoidable.
The last thing he saw—Was that single eye.
Burning red in the moonlight.
Then—Darkness.
The chamber returned to silence.
The masked man stood.
Effortless.
Walked past the unconscious Mizukage—As if he owned the room.
The silence lingered.
But something had changed.
The Mizukage stirred.
Slowly.
Like a puppet remembering how to move.
His eyes opened.
Empty. Not blank—Not unconscious—Controlled.
He stood.
No hesitation. No confusion. As if nothing had happened.
But everything had.
Moments later—The chamber doors opened.
Summoned by urgent command—The faction leaders of Kirigakure gathered.
Clan heads. Elite shinobi.
Figures of influence wrapped in suspicion and ambition.
They knelt. Waiting.
The Mizukage stood before them.
Still. Unmoving.
Then—He spoke.
Cold. Flat. Devoid of warmth.
"Intelligence confirms…"
A pause.
"…several Kekkei Genkai clans are preparing to rebel."
A ripple passed through the room.
Subtle. Uneasy.
One of the elders frowned.
"…Rebel? Now?"
The Mizukage's gaze shifted.
Slow. Heavy.
"They intend to use the coming conflict… as cover."
Silence deepened.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Another voice spoke carefully.
"…Do we have confirmation?"
A beat.
The Mizukage's presence pressed down on the room.
"Yes."
No room for doubt. No space for argument.
Then—He gave the order.
"If they make a move—"
A pause.
"Kill them."
The words landed like stones dropped into still water.
No outrage. No immediate reaction.
Just—Shock.
"Suppress them."
Another pause.
"Erase the clan if necessary."
Now—The tension snapped.
"…Mizukage-sama—" one elder began.
Careful. Measured.
"This could—"
"Peace."
The Mizukage's voice cut through him.
"Kirigakure must maintain stability."
His eyes—Still lifeless—Swept across the room.
"No matter the cost."
That—Silenced everything.
Because they had heard this before.
Not from him.
From the darkest chapters of their own history.
The Blood Mist.
A time when fear ruled.
When clans vanished overnight.
When strength was proven through survival—
Or extinction.
And now—It was returning.
One by one—The faction members bowed.
Not in agreement.
But in submission. Because something was wrong.
But no one could prove it.
And no one—Was willing to challenge it.
As they left—Whispers began.
Quiet. Dangerous.
"…This will ignite everything."
"…We're going back to that era…"
"…This isn't stability…"
"…This is slaughter…"
Inside the chamber—The Mizukage stood alone again.
Still. Silent.
"...."
Then—For a fraction of a second—The reflection in his eye shifted.
A faint red glimmer.
Gone as quickly as it appeared.
But enough.
Far away—In the shadows of the world—A plan moved forward.
Not with armies. But with fear.
Because sometimes—The fastest way to break a village—Is to make it destroy itself.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Guys My New Fic name is:
-->Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable.
Check it out... I hope you will like it
Whats your thought's guys.
(A/N): I hope you guys are enjoying the story.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
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And power stone!!!
It will Motivate Me.