The colossal pillar of fire erupting from the logistics depot punched a hole in the pre-dawn gloom, painting the undersides of low-hanging clouds in violent hues of orange and crimson. Sakurai Yuji, perched like a watchful raptor on the highest spire of Miyahira's central communications tower, felt the concussive shake vibrate through the metal framework beneath his feet. He didn't flinch. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face, illuminated by the hellish glow reflecting in his sharp eyes.
"Well," he murmured to the rising wind, his voice barely audible over the distant roar of the inferno and the first panicked shouts beginning to echo from the streets below.
"That'll wake them up." Minako's signature chaos was impossible to ignore. The carefully constructed silence of the infiltration was shattered, replaced by the unmistakable cacophony of a village under attack.
Phase one – crippling support – was complete with devastating flair.
His gaze lifted from the fiery spectacle, drawn eastward. The true dawn was finally breaking. Time was tightening. His own task, the final step in Miyahira's isolation, awaited.
The communications hub.
While Minako severed sustenance and Katsu silenced healing, Yuji's role was to cut the village's voice, its connection to the wider Kumo network. No distress signals. No calls for reinforcements. Miyahira needed to scream into a void.
The communications division wasn't just tall; it was a bristling fortress of technology. Gleaming metal latticework formed its skeleton and banks of fuinjutsu-etched consoles that glowed with internal light.
Guards, now fully alert after Minako's detonation, patrolled the platforms – five Jonins, their movements sharp with adrenaline, scanning the chaos below and the sky above.
Yuji didn't announce himself. He became lightning, given human form. "CRACK-FZZZT!"
A bolt of pure, white-blue energy was his shunshin. He didn't run along the beams; he arced between them, a living spark traversing the tower's superstructure faster than the eye could track.
He landed soundlessly on the uppermost platform, directly behind the first guard, who was peering over the railing towards the depot fire. Yuji's hands were a blur.
"Shink! Shink!"
The guard stiffened, a choked gasp escaping him as both blades, moving faster than thought, pierced his heart and spine simultaneously. Yuji withdrew them in the same fluid motion, letting the body slump silently, wisps of smoke rising from the fatal wounds.
"Intruder!"
The scream came from a Jonin two levels down who had glimpsed the flicker of movement. Too late. Yuji was already gone, a bolt of lightning descending.
"CRACK-FZZZT!" He appeared between two guards on the next platform. The Kiba swords became extensions of a lethal dance. One blade lanced forward in a blinding thrust, spearing through a guard's throat before he could fully turn. The other sword swept horizontally in a crackling arc, intercepting the desperate kunai thrust of the second guard and shearing through the weapon, the forearm holding it, and finally his neck in one horrific, electrified motion.
The remaining two Jonin on the main relay platform scrambled backwards, fumbling for explosive tags and forming shaky hand seals. One managed a weak
"Raiton: Jibashi!" sending a web of sparking electricity towards the descending demon. Yuji didn't dodge. He flowed through the attack, the ambient lightning chakra absorbed harmlessly by the Kiba blades, which flared brighter. He landed lightly in the centre of the platform.
"Too slow," he stated, his voice cold and devoid of inflexion.
The swords moved.
"FZZZT-CRACKLE!"
Twin bolts of concentrated lightning, shaped and amplified by the legendary blades, lanced out. Not aimed to kill, but to disable. One bolt struck the Jonin mid-seal, locking every muscle in his body in a violent spasm before he collapsed, convulsing. The other bolt hit the main relay console.
"KRA-KOOOOM!" Not an explosion of fire, but of pure energy. Arrays shattered in a shower of sparkling shards, and the complex fuinjutsu seals overloaded, erupting in bursts of wild, uncontrolled light before sputtering into darkness.
Yuji surveyed his handiwork. Miyahira was now cut off. He wiped a single bead of sweat, not from exertion, but from the intense heat radiating from his blades, on his sleeve.
"Isolation complete."
He looked towards the burning depot, then towards the central watchtower where Renjiro's immense chakra still blazed like a beacon.
=====
Within the sensory hub, Renjiro was still in the lotus position. He felt the final flicker of the communications tower die under Yuji's assault. He felt the chaotic pulse of panic spreading through the streets, converging towards Minako's inferno. He felt the cold, focused signatures of Katsu moving towards secondary objectives.
Then, he felt them.
Five points of intense pressure, moving with terrifying speed and coordination, converging directly on the watchtower. Not the scattered, panicked chakra of responding guards. These were focused lances of power, honed and deadly, cutting through the chaotic background noise like knives.
They flickered – not standard shunshin, but something smoother, more efficient, covering vast distances in heartbeats. They bypassed the lower floors, homing in on the sensory hub like guided missiles drawn to his defiant signal.
Renjiro's eyes snapped open. A slow, genuine smile touched his lips, devoid of arrogance, filled with the anticipation of a true challenge.
"FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!"
"Finally," he breathed. "Took you long enough. I was beginning to think I'd have to meditate through the whole damn morning waiting."
Five figures materialised within the sensory hub, forming a loose semicircle facing Renjiro, their presence instantly dominating the space, pushing back against the weight of his own chakra.
Renjiro felt a thrill, cold and sharp, cut through his focus. 'Not mere Jonin. Elite.' The sheer concentration of power in the room was staggering, pressing against his own aura like a physical force.
"Boom!"
Before any could speak, the world outside the window flashed blindingly white, followed half a heartbeat later by a deep, rolling bang that shook the building to its foundations.
The Blur – Kano – reacted first, his head snapping towards the window, his body tensing to move. "The depot! That's the main storage!" he yelled, his voice high with alarm.
The Leader, Raiju, didn't turn. His single yellow eye remained locked on Renjiro, but his voice, a deep rumble like distant thunder, cut through the noise.
"Go! All of you! Secure the depot, assess the damage! Contain the fire! This one," he jerked his chin minutely towards Renjiro, "is mine."
He expected instant compliance. That they would move as one unit, as his orders were absolute. But nothing happened.
Shirakumo didn't flicker towards the window. Kurotsuchi didn't shift his immense weight. Kano remained coiled but unmoving. They stood frozen, not in hesitation, but in a terrifying, unnatural stillness.
Raiju's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his scarred face for the first time. He started to turn his head, to demand why they delayed, his mouth opening to bark the order again.
That's when Renjiro spoke. His voice was calm, almost conversational, but it carried an undercurrent of chilling power. His eyes were no longer dark. The Sharingan had activated, crimson tomoes spinning slowly, lazily, within onyx fields, drinking in the light and the frozen tableau before him. A faint, predatory smile touched his lips.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked, "How terribly rude. The party," his gaze swept over the five immobilised elites, lingering on Raiju's confusion, "has only just begun."