The path east was long.
Twisted by roots.Stained by old blood.Laced with seals carved into trees no one remembered placing.
He walked like he knew them.Like he'd seen this road before in a dream made of bone and smoke.
The girl followed.
Saying nothing.
Just watching.
Because something had changed in his footsteps—not heavier…but certain.
On the third night, the trees thinned.
A valley stretched before them.Flat. Dry. Dust-choked.
At its heart, a stone tower.Cracked. Crooked.Broken like a snapped tooth.
But even from here—they could feel it.
Chakra.
Ancient.Buried.
Still breathing.
The boy stopped at the edge of the valley.
He crouched, pressing his fingers into the dirt.
A ripple spread from his hand.
The earth answered.
His eye glowed faintly, then—
"Tunnels. Dozens. All dead ends."
She raised an eyebrow.
"How do you know which one leads to the vault?"
He stood.
"I don't."
Then turned and walked.
Inside the tower—
Dust filled the air.Walls collapsed inward.Rats fled at their scent.
They found stairs.Rusted. Worn.Leading down into the dark.
The girl lit a flame with a whisper of chakra.
The boy didn't need it.
His eye burned with shapes unseen.
He followed them.
Thirty meters down, the stairs ended.Stone gave way to roots.Dirt.Then—metal.
A door.
Not just any door.
A seal burned across its center like a wound.
He reached for it—
The girl grabbed his wrist.
"Wait."
He stopped.
"This one's not just a lock," she said."It's a question."
The seal pulsed.
Words formed across the metal.
"What remains after gods forget their names?"
The boy stared.
Didn't blink.
Didn't think.
Just answered:
"The eyes."
The door opened.
Vault #3 wasn't large.
It was a spiral chamber.Walls lined with mirrors.Each one cracked.
And in the center—a coffin.
Carved from crystal.
Inside it—a child.
No older than five.
Hair white.
Skin pale.
Eyes closed.
But the eye in the boy's head spun faster.
It recognized him.
The girl whispered:
"Another bearer?"
The boy nodded.
"Not just any bearer," he said.
"The original vessel."
Suddenly—the mirrors lit up.
Each one flickered with an image.
The boy stepped back.
Faces appeared.
Each one different.
Old men.Young women.Children.Monsters.
All with a single eye.
All staring at him.
A voice echoed from the mirrors:
"You are not ready."
"You cannot awaken the seed."
"The chain is not complete."
He stepped forward.
"I don't need to awaken him."
"I need to know who made him."
Silence.
Then—
A single mirror cleared.
It showed a face.
Masked.Tattooed.Eyes black as ink.
The girl gasped.
"I've seen that symbol before. In the Rain."
The boy stared.
That face.
It wasn't a memory.
It was watching.
Then the figure spoke:
"Come find me, fracture."
And the mirror shattered.
The child in the coffin stirred.
Barely.
His lips parted.
A breath escaped.
The coffin cracked.
Then stopped.
The girl stepped forward.
But the boy held up a hand.
"No," he said.
"Not yet."
"We move on."
Later, above ground…
The wind had changed.
It carried whispers.
Voices.
They were being tracked.
The girl crouched beside a small pool of water.
She dipped her kunai in.
It came out burning.
She frowned.
"They're already reacting to the vaults opening."
The boy didn't respond.
He looked east.
Again.
Always east.
She followed his gaze.
"What's next?"
He turned to her.
His eye dimmed.
"Vault #2."
Her face paled.
"That's... in the Land of Iron."
He nodded.
"The neutral zone."
She swallowed.
"That place hasn't allowed chakra in decades."
His voice was calm.
"They won't need to. I'm not bringing chakra this time."
She stared.
"What are you bringing?"
He met her eyes.
And for just a second—she saw it.
Not rage.Not ambition.
Just inevitability.
"A message."
"The old gods are watching again."
"And the veil is thinning."
To be continued.