Hinata felt a knot of nerves tighten in her chest as Michel led her beneath the Crystal Tower. When he suggested she assume the form of the Silver Lady, she hesitated—it was unsettling. Yet, guided by his presence, she descended into a massive chamber she had never seen before.
There, standing with an unmistakable smirk and functioning hands, was Orochimaru.
To her surprise, he wasn't alone. Standing nearby were Kenshiro, Reika, and their son Shō—all brimming with excitement as they worked together, experimenting with seals. At the far end of the chamber, a massive ring dominated the room. Large enough for two adults to pass through side by side, it was constructed from metal, stone, and rare materials native to Yumegakure. All around them, the chamber pulsed with glowing runes in an unknown language. Several tanks hissed quietly in the background.
Michel's voice broke the tension. "Yes… the situation was dire, and I had to make compromises. But thanks to him… we were able to accelerate the timeline. And here we are."
Orochimaru, clearly amused by her stunned expression, chuckled. "The Silver Lady herself… even now, I can't help but be thankful. My blindness placed my dreams beyond reach, but here, in Yumegakure, I can continue my work—without needing… problematic methods to pursue it. But Michel-sama's idea to open a hidden path into the Pure Lands has given us all new hope."
He raised his hands, showing them—fully functional, covered in glowing runes.
"These," he said, "were born from creative solutions to very dark problems. But for true progress, I need to know more—about the Shinigami, about the Pure Lands…"
Shō beamed with pride. The runes on Orochimaru's hands were clearly his work.
Kenshiro spoke next, voice firm but excited. "The portal's been stable for over a month now. We've been using the same cracks in space the Pure Lands used to invade this realm. We've hidden our signal—completely masked on their end. But we hit a wall: we can't sustain Yumegakure's materials on their side. The only thing we managed to send across… were your vials of Silver Blood."
Michel added, "At first, I was against informing you, as was Lord Takama. You are our greatest asset in this war—sending you alone, into enemy territory, without backup, was too great a risk. Not until we found a way to send support with you. But… Kaito made an argument none of us could refuse. And so, here we are."
Even as Michel spoke, Hinata could see it in his soul—he was masking his feelings in front of Orochimaru. And deep within… the serpent suspected the truth about her identity. Yet even he focused now on the mystery ahead.
Orochimaru leaned forward, eyes glittering with excitement. "Soon, the Pure Lands will launch their final assault. Before that happens, you—the only one capable of entering their realm—must confront the leader of the Shinigami. He hasn't appeared since the army's last assault three months ago. But you, Silver Lady… you are stronger than him. End this before it escalates."
Hinata could only nod, speechless.
"And Michel," Orochimaru continued with a grin, "once you succeed, I expect your help recovering the spirit of my hands from the Shinigami's domain."
That's when she straightened up, her voice steady, resolute.
"Very well. You have my word, Orochimaru."
<<<< o >>>>
The hours passed in preparation. Kenshiro, Reika, and Shō worked to modify the seals placed on Hinata, allowing her to access reserves of yang, yin, and natural energy from Yumegakure while inside the Pure Lands. They also added a contingency: a tether that would allow Mitsue to summon her back in an emergency.
Orochimaru, meanwhile, was elated—refining his portal with obsessive precision.
Eventually, the time came. Just as hundreds of portals began opening across Yumegakure for coordinated attacks, their portal activated, drawing energy from the land itself. The tower trembled slightly. Hinata felt it—Ryusei Uchiha was fighting Kuro and Mitsue above. Her heart clenched with worry.
Michel placed a hand on her shoulder. His role in stabilizing the portal was crucial; she could feel the strain.
"You can trust me. If it gets too dangerous, I'll close the portal and bring them back myself. We can always summon you home. But I believe in them—they've trained long for this."
Hinata nodded quietly and approached the vortex—a swirling storm of black and white energy. She felt the collective will of Yumegakure behind her. She felt the seals, the wards, the care of her allies. And then… she trembled, catching a glimpse of Orochimaru's disturbingly excited face as she stepped into the light.
<<<< o >>>>
The Pure Lands were a desolate expanse—an endless horizon of stone pillars etched with glowing symbols, each functioning in strange unison. Inside them… she could feel it—countless souls, slumbering, used like batteries.
Bolts of crimson, black, and blue energy arced from pillar to pillar. The air itself pressed down on her, as if the laws of the world were trying to crush her spirit. But her blood responded—shifting, adapting.
Everything turned gray. This world now responded to her, as one of its natural inhabitants.
She could see the Shinigami—lifeless drones carrying out duties with no emotion. And in the distance stood a towering citadel. All the lightning converged there, its purpose unclear.
She still felt the tether to Yumegakure. The worry of Michel. The weight of the world's hope pressed against her chest.
She had to find the Shinigami commander—before it was too late.
With a breath, she vanished—moving faster than ever before. Her senses locked onto a presence—one unlike the others. A being with something resembling a soul… like the Bijū, a soul she knew. Her hand rose toward the tower, toward him. And then she remembered—everything.
The suffering. The lost. The moment on the island.
There would be no collateral damage here. No risk of innocent lives.
Now, she would see the true limit of her attack.
She released it—a single thread of silver light arcing across the sky of the Pure Lands at the speed of thought. The instant before it struck the tower, she solidified it—like a cannonball of spiritual force made real. The world cracked.
The laws of this realm didn't know how to interpret kinetic energy impacting the spiritual.
The result: a cataclysm.
A blinding flash erupted, erasing the endless darkness. Shinigami were gone—as if they'd never existed. The energy flow from the soul-pillars paused. The tower still stood… but its foundation was fractured. The world itself trembled, confused, attempting to mend the impossible.
And then…
A scream.
The voice of the Shinigami overlord, once mechanical and hollow, now raw with rage.
"You DARE damage the Great Machine?! I will ERASE your soul for this—ABERRATION!"
The tower shuddered. A form burst from its peak, speeding toward her—faster than wind, twisting the laws of space around him.
He was coming.
And in this realm… he could bend the rules like she could in Yumegakure.
But even here, he lacked something.
This realm, the pure lands, had no true soul.
And this world… this cursed system… did not breathe or dream.
Hinata did.
Hinata, at that moment, chose to release her image as the Silver Lady. Here, in this place—only she and the Shinigami. Here, masks were unnecessary. Here, she could reveal herself without worry, without political consequence.
And so, she took a breath… in a world where air did not exist. But she had adapted to this realm, and if its inhabitants did not need to breathe, neither would she. Still, she did it—the memory of breathing stirred her chakra, and Mirage Breath activated. The world slowed even further.
One became two. Two became four. Four became eight, then sixteen, then thirty-two… then sixty-four. Her illusions moved with full autonomy. Each one with purpose. Each one a phantom.
The Shinigami came like a missile, slamming into the center of Hinata's illusions and sending shockwaves in every direction. The surrounding pillars activated and began producing beams of three colors—but to her, as to the Shinigami, they were all simply shades of gray. Just like everything else in this soulless world.
He moved. His intentions blazed in her Mind's Eye. He was attacking illusion No. 21. He had been fooled by its false soul aura. When his hand pierced its heart, he did not understand how its aura had swapped with No. 22's. He suspected a substitution. In his fury, he lashed out at No. 22, ignoring No. 21.
Guiding her blade, Hinata struck with purpose—a slow, telegraphed blow, one he dismissed—only to receive all her power behind it. A mountain of force hurled him into the pillars, shattering them one after another.
The souls trapped within were freed, manifesting only as powerless motes of light. And yet, Hinata used her own spiritual threads to guide them away—away from the consequences of what was about to unfold.
This gave the Shinigami time to recover. The realm healed his wounds, using the energy of countless souls to empower him. His response was unmistakable: blind rage.
"You accursed witch! Why won't you die?!"
The world answered his fury—an emotion neither he nor this realm understood, and yet it responded. Beams of three colors converged upon him briefly and then he unleashed them into the sky. Hinata saw them—three echoes forming around him, in a parallel plane yet able to affect this one. And she could affect them too. She could see them.
The sky obeyed the Shinigami, channeling lightning toward her and all of her illusions. A clever tactic… but why waste such fine energy?
As the strike descended, she activated Mirage Breath – Flow of Water, guiding the energy to four destinations: first, into the realm where the three echoes of the Shinigami were moving to flank her—they ceased to be. Another portion she redirected into the realm itself, returning the stolen power. A small fragment she used against the Shinigami—not to harm him, but to keep him enraged, unable to think clearly. The rest she masked, using Transformation Jutsu on herself to hide the true damage inflicted—because despite diverting most of it, a sliver had still struck her. Her body was already healing.
And then, I and all my illusions spoke at once:
"You know this could've ended peacefully—if you had been willing to talk."
Once again, the Shinigami attacked No. 21. His rage blinded him to the truth—it was just an illusion. Back in Yumegakure, I had honed senses like his… I saw the imperfections in my Mirage Breath… and I repaired them. I made my sword physical and struck with the reverse edge, slicing through his hand and tendons in a single motion.
"But no… you chose the hard way. And I, along with Yumegakure, believe in choice."
His next strike targeted No. 64—this time chasing the residual aura of life. A better tactic… but still a decoy. I solidified the illusion and dodged, redirecting attacks to maintain his false impression.
"We can still end this here and now, in peace and understanding."
His response was more echoes in the parallel plane, and a torrent of energy directed at No. 64. She didn't move. None of the illusions did. All were frozen… except for three.
Three illusions moved—slowly, yet impossibly fast. Three slashes in the air shattered the Shinigami's echoes.
And I, the real Hinata, spoke:
"So be it."
I stepped forward — Mirage Breath – Fourth Form: One Thousand Steps in One. I appeared before the Shinigami and activated First Form: New Moon, drawing Shinsei in a transcendent upward slash. The impact launched him like a missile toward the sky.
I knew this would use up all the energy I had left that kept me in my silver stage, but I was determined to continue. This had to end now.
Once again, I gathered my energy—this time condensing the densest spiritual thread I had ever created. Not to strike a nameless island or mountain or fortress… but a single soul, now suspended in the air, disoriented.
The Shinigami felt it—my undeniable killing intent. Something he couldn't comprehend, not truly. But some part of him recognized it. He knew… he was about to die.
"Goodbye, Shinigami."