"Yahiko's… body?"
Pain's words struck Uzumaki Sora like a misfired genjutsu—nonsensical and irritating. For a brief moment, he was simply dumbfounded.
What was the use of Yahiko's body to him?
Was he trying to experiment talk-no-jutsu on him?
He could barely contain the look of utter disbelief on his face. 'What kind of pathetic attempt at psychological manipulation is this?' he wondered. 'This type of crap might work on ignorant civilians or wide-eyed Genin who still believe in fairy tales.'
But to someone who had lived through bloodshed, betrayal, and the unbearable weight of surviving countless horrors?
This wasn't persuasion. It was laughable.
'Compared to Naruto's honest, soul-striking words, this guy's speech is just verbal garbage…'
"Calm down."
A serene, cold voice cut through the mounting chakra in the air. It wasn't Pain, nor Sora. It was sharper. Controlled. Feminine.
Konan.
Before another word could be spoken, thousands of explosive tags, disguised as fluttering sheets of paper, wrapped themselves around the massive tree limb sweeping toward Pain.
*BOOM!!*
The explosion ruptured the air, shaking the rain-soaked ruins. Fragments of trees splintered through the sky, hurled outward like kunai. Chunks of earth rattled as Sora instinctively raised his arms to shield his eyes. As the smoke cleared, his gaze rose to the woman hovering midair, bat-like wings of chakra-infused paper flaring behind her in an elegant, dangerous bloom.
It was her signature style—Secret Paper Jutsu—graceful, deadly, and impossible to predict.
"You shouldn't be here, Konan." Sora muttered under his breath. "But I'm not surprised you showed up. You always were Nagato's shadow."
She descended slightly, not landing but floating just above the fractured ground, her wings lightly flapping with the ambient breeze. Her tone remained calm, but the undertone of warning was clear.
"Everyone has arrived at the shelters." Konan said coolly. "Enemies of this level do not require your strength, Pain."
Even as she spoke, eight identical paper clones emerged from the surrounding ruins like ghosts, each materializing at precise coordinates—right next to the scattered Flying Thunder God Kunai.
One of the clones bent down, plucking up a kunai that shimmered with a time-space formula. She raised it, her expression unreadable. "You've already thrown eight of these. How many more do you have?"
Sora chuckled, pulling a scroll from his pouch. "You'd be surprised."
He unfurled the scroll with a snap. "Release!"
*Poof!*
As the smoke drifted away, dozens more Flying Thunder God Kunai lay neatly arranged. With practiced motion, he slid them into compartments on his belt and thigh pouches.
"Not too many, maybe a few dozen." he said casually. "I heard Konoha's 'Yellow Flash'—Namikaze Minato—once used this move to kill fifty enemy shinobi in the blink of an eye. One must learn from the best."
He looked up again, his smirk widening slightly. "So I carry more… just in case."
Konan narrowed her eyes. Sora wasn't here for a fight—at least, not one with them. But his arrogance grated against her discipline.
"I'm not here to steal a corpse." Sora added quickly, seeing Pain's chakra beginning to rise again. "I don't have any morbid hobby involving dead bodies."
But Pain wasn't convinced. He stepped forward, his voice low and severe. "You used Transformation Jutsu to replicate Yahiko's appearance. You sealed the remaining Five Paths into scrolls. Your intentions are crystal clear."
Sora didn't respond right away.
'So that's it.' he realized. 'They think I'm after Yahiko to gain access to the Six Paths of Pain… and by extension, the Rinnegan.'
Pain continued, "But the power of the Rinnegan is far more than bodies. You cannot comprehend it, let alone control it."
That was half right.
Sora was after the Rinnegan—but not the one in these puppets. He wanted the original, the source. The one locked away in that forsaken tower… with Nagato.
Just as he was about to clarify, space twisted behind them.
A distorted vortex of chakra opened, spiraling like a whirlpool of air and color.
From the eye of the storm emerged a masked man.
Orange spiral mask. One eyehole. Chakra signature cloaked and laced with mystery.
Uchiha Obito.
His distorted voice rang with mocking amusement. "Heh… Uzumaki Sora. Still using my arm?"
Despite the seemingly light tone, Obito's lone eye scanned the devastated landscape with sharp alertness. The Wood-style—this level wasn't something that could be reproduced just by grafting Hashirama's cells onto someone. Not without White Zetsu. Not without preparation. And Sora was no puppet.
Sora didn't flinch. "You seem to have a new one now. Good for you. I'm already done with that scrap."
Obito chuckled, but his gaze darkened. "You're alone. You're not even from Konoha. The last time was dumb luck. This time... you stay here."
*BOOM!*
A massive tree erupted from the ground, aiming for Sora's back.
But instead of impaling him, it curled upward and gently lifted him to eye level with the others, coiling beneath his feet like a throne.
Sora's expression remained unfazed. "Still trying to use Wood-style against me? That's adorable. You really think this power's beyond me?"
Then his gaze turned to Pain.
"My goal isn't the Six Paths of Pain." he said firmly. "I came here for one reason: to meet your true self. Nagato."
The air seemed to freeze.
Nagato and Konan both stiffened, their chakra fluctuating wildly.
That name.
That tower.
Those were secrets even the Amegakure Anbu didn't fully understand—information known only to them and a few corpses buried in the rain.
"Who are you?" Pain growled.
Konan turned sharply to Obito. "Who the hell is he?"
Obito stared at Sora for a long moment. "I don't know. The name 'Uzumaki Sora' has been passed around the black market, but it's unconfirmed. Red hair suggests Uzumaki lineage, but not conclusively."
"He uses the Flying Thunder God Jutsu—the Fourth Hokage's technique—and now… he rivals me in Wood-style."
But he left something out.
That two years ago, during a covert mission to Konoha, Obito had been utterly defeated by Sora.
If it weren't for Zetsu's quick thinking, Obito would've been dead—or worse, completely exposed.
And now…
Sora knew too much. About Nagato. About the tower. About him.
He couldn't allow that knowledge to spread.
"I don't care how you got this intel." Obito said coldly, "But it ends here."
He launched chains from his body—black, twisted, and buzzing with suppressive chakra.
*Swish!*
But Sora effortlessly batted them aside.
"Chains again? I expected more creativity." he muttered. "You're all bark, no bite."
He slammed his palms together.
Wood-style ∙ Deep Forest Emergence!
*BOOOOOM!*
Trees exploded from the ground, converging on Obito like living spears, thousands of sharpened limbs piercing the air.
Obito smirked.
He phased, intangible.
Sora frowned. 'Of course. Kamui.'
But he didn't stop. 'You can't stay intangible forever.'
And then—
*Swish!Swish!Swish!*
Six Flying Thunder God Kunai flew, splitting midair. Three redirected the others. Their trajectories overlapped and realigned in mid-flight, boxing Obito in.
Now.
Flying Thunder God Jutsu!
*Swish!*
*Pfft!*
Sora reappeared right behind Obito.
Only for his breath to catch.
His body froze.
A single iron chain had pierced through his abdomen.
*Drip… drip…*
Blood rolled off the wound and shattered in droplets onto the tree branch below.
He looked down at the iron chain impaled through him.
"What…"
Obito stood a short distance away, gripping the chain's other end.
"You shouldn't be fast enough." Sora whispered. "Even with Mangekyō Sharingan and Hashirama cells… that reflex speed—should be impossible…"
*****
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