[POV: Third Person – Takumi Village]
In mere seconds, the black-clad martial artist had taken the lives of two sand shinobi—without hesitation, without moral conflict, without even the slightest effort. Perhaps it was just another sign of the changes brought by his ongoing transformation and the digestion of the essences… or maybe it was simply because there were still more targets left to hunt.
This time, seeking a greater challenge, he dashed straight toward the one with the largest concentration of chakra—the puppeteer.
Aoki Shirogane. A respected shinobi of the Shirogane clan, one of the few clans in Sunagakure. There was a time when they were hailed as the best puppet masters in the village, until a certain kunoichi proved otherwise.
Even so, Aoki had risen to the rank of Jōnin, an elite in his own right. Armed with his clan's resources and expertise, he was a formidable specialist—an individual to be reckoned with both inside and outside of Suna. Yet none of that could alter the grim reality before him.
The mission had been simple: assassinate a noble acting as village head in the Land of Rivers. When the Suna's council realized this target was the current leader of Takumi Village, they added an extra objective—seize any useful resources while they were at it. Straightforward. Efficient. A perfect task for Aoki's squad.
Now, here he was, left with no choice but to flee. He hurled a kunai bound with an explosive tag, blowing a hole in the guards' encirclement, and darted across rooftops toward the outskirts.
The sight of a prismatic dragon soaring into the evening sky—carrying Utahei's life away with it—was enough to drain all color from his face. His pursuer was closing in, and Aoki knew a direct fight meant certain death.
"I have no choice…"
From his vest he pulled two scrolls—one etched in red lines, the other in blue.
"Summoning Technique!"
Smoke burst outward, and from it emerged two colossal puppets nearly four meters tall. Each bore the visage of an Oni: long, powerful arms, round bellies, short stocky legs, and demonic masks for faces. One painted crimson, the other azure.
Aoki stood between them, his senses screaming as a blur rushed toward him. The panic of imminent death sharpened his every nerve.
But the black-clad stranger didn't even spare the man or the puppets a glance. He just pass through following his intented path.
'Just a clone and some wood disguised as puppets.'
Maybe it was imperceptible to others, but to his eyes—prismatic irises shifting in endless colors, with pupils sharpened like blades—the truth was laid bare.
It was one of the cheats of his bloodline or kekkei genkai: eyes crafted from the essence, in base of a D&D's spell "True Sight," fused with Gojo Satoru's Six Eyes. A twisted combination that potentially grants him the ability to peer through all veils, even across planes beyond the material. Designed for a world where enemies and entities hide and move between layers of reality.
When Aoki realized his ruse had been pierced, he had no choice but to reveal his true trump cards. His genuine Oni Puppets—masterpieces of his clan—were unleashed.
The Red Oni's mask opened, spewing flames toward where Aoki believed the enemy would appear. But a distortion within the fire betrayed some movement. Looking up, Aoki saw him—the martial artist descending from above, leg raised high for a devastating kick.
The Blue Oni surged forward like lightning, electricity dancing around its horns. Its strike collided midair with the stranger's descending blow, sending shockwaves reverberating through the village sky.
The puppet slammed into the street, carving a fissure through stone.
"N-No… impossible! Even the Kazekage wouldn't dare face the Blue Oni head-on…" Aoki gasped, cold sweat dripping down his neck.
'And he's unscathed!' The thought he dared not say aloud.
The stranger, however, seemed far more intrigued by the puppets than by the puppeteer himself.
'It didn't break…'
His strike—one strong enough to shatter the earlier puppet and crush a kunoichi—had only left cracks on the Blue Oni's frame.
'And just a single chakra thread to control something like this… absurd.'
The previous construct had required five threads, and yet was far more fragile. Here, one thread per puppet, from each of Aoki's index fingers. Something about it felt off.
"W-Who are you?" Aoki asked, desperation leaking into his voice.
The stranger seemed amused, as though caught off-guard by the question. He landed lightly on a rooftop, gaze drifting into the void as if studying something beyond.
Aoki would not waste the moment. He sprinted forward, sending the Red Oni in a suicidal charge—its self-destruct system primed. At the same time, the clone from before sprang from behind the martial artist in ambush.
The stranger smiled.
Curious.
He studied the Red Oni more closely, seeing the intricate gears, threads, and a glowing core.
"Interesting… very interesting." His voice was calm, almost fascinated, even as his body spun, heel smashing through the earth clone's skull in a single strike.
Meanwhile, the Red Oni convulsed violently in the air, joints clattering as its eyes flickered, the core swelling with unstable energy. Fire consumed its frame, ready to erupt in a catastrophic blast.
But then—the air shifted. The wind ceased. Heat stalled. Sound itself was swallowed.
A tear opened in space, a void pulling the puppet inward like a black hole devouring light. In an instant, the Red Oni was gone.
"Such a fascinating tool," the stranger chuckled, "far too interesting to be wasted on a dead man, don't you think?"
Terror broke Aoki's mind.
Spatial ninjutsu! That was spatial ninjutsu!
Sanity crumbled. He ran, heedless of pride or reason. No training, no study, no experience had ever prepared him for an enemy of this caliber.
I need to escape—I have to escape!
"Why are you running? Didn't you want to know who I am?" The stranger's voice came from behind.
"Urgh—!"
A hand tore through his chest, blood painting the cobbled street crimson.
"My name is Raiden. A pleasure to meet you."
Aoki's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood soaking into the cracked stones of Takumi's streets.
The black-clad figure pulled his arm free, eyes shimmering with that prismatic light, shifting endlessly like a kaleidoscope.
For a moment, silence returned to the village. Then—Raiden turned his gaze toward the horizon.
Two faint chakra signatures weaker than Aoki, trembling, fleeing.
His lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
"Now then… who's next?"
-x-
Name: Raiden
Bloodline: Dragon Emperor of Nature
Power Level: Tier 9-B
Essences:
Essence of Personal Objects [Processing: 12% Digested]
Essence of the Cultivator [Processing: 9% Digested]
Essence of the Shinobi [Processing: 100% Digested]