Some orders are written in ink.
Others are carved in blood.
And Danzo's most dangerous orders?
Were buried in silence.
The directive was known only to three Root operatives—two were dead. The third hadn't spoken in years, even under torture.
And now, it had been triggered.
Fallback Protocol: KAI-0.
Beneath the old Konoha forensic chambers, Root maintained a sealed vault never listed in any records—not even among the ANBU black entries. Inside, encased in chakra-resistant crystal, floated a human form.
Tall. Muscular. Bald.
No scars.
No fingerprints.
Just a blank face with white irises.
Subject: KAI-0
Prototype-0's combat counterpart.
He had no memories.
No personal will.
Just encoded instructions.
And now, the seal array around him clicked open.
Danzo stood before the tank, hands clasped behind his back.
"This is not punishment," he said quietly. "This is correction."
The body began to stir.
Fingers twitched.
Muscles flexed.
The reawakening had begun.
At the Namikaze estate, Arashi stood on the roof, blade in his lap, eyes scanning the village skyline.
He'd barely slept.
Himari was stable. Kushina's suppression matrix held. But something was wrong.
There was no retaliation.
No strike team.
No message.
Danzo had gone silent.
And that scared Arashi more than open hostility.
Naori arrived just past dawn, cloak damp with dew.
"They found a dead courier," she said without preamble.
"Where?"
"Near the old police ruins."
"Message?"
Naori nodded. "Burned beyond repair."
"But?"
"But the ink had residue. I scraped enough off the body to catch part of a name."
She passed him a charred piece of parchment, chakra-preserved.
One word remained:
"Kai"
Arashi stared at it.
Then froze.
"I've seen that name," he muttered.
He unsealed the Root intel files Tenka had left him.
Deep inside the list of Root projects, buried under discontinued programs, he found it:
KAI-0: Combat Adapted Clone, Prototype Alpha. Failed—Unstable personality. Project Terminated.
Except… it hadn't been.
Naori looked over his shoulder.
"Danzo's bringing him out."
Arashi nodded.
"He's not sending assassins."
"He's sending a disaster."
By evening, the village trembled.
It began as a chakra fluctuation—too fast to pinpoint.
Then came the power grid flickers.
Surveillance toads lost link.
Four sensory-nin blacked out during patrol.
All near the outer districts.
Arashi was already moving.
He passed Kakashi training near the estate and paused.
"Get inside. Tell Kushina to strengthen the barriers."
Kakashi blinked. "Why?"
"There's something coming."
"Like Root?"
"No," Arashi said. "Worse."
He reached the southern quadrant in under six minutes.
Collapsed trees.
Cracked rooftops.
No bodies.
Just destruction—fast, targeted, and silent.
He stepped into the debris-strewn plaza—
—and saw him.
A tall figure stood in the center, skin pale, arms hanging loosely.
He wasn't breathing hard.
Wasn't even fully conscious.
But chakra radiated off him in waves.
And when Arashi looked into his eyes—
—they were white.
Not Byakugan white.
Blank.
Like staring into a living weapon.
"Name?" Arashi asked.
The figure didn't respond.
Arashi took one step forward.
The figure moved instantly.
Fast.
No warning.
No buildup.
A punch blurred through the air—
Arashi ducked, countered with a reverse elbow, and missed.
The man didn't dodge.
He phased.
Not with a jutsu.
With speed.
Arashi felt the air around his ribs tighten, barely deflecting the incoming knee.
He backflipped, slid across rubble, and exhaled.
"I don't have time for this," he muttered.
But this wasn't a man.
It was a directive.
And it was only just beginning.
Elsewhere, in Root's deepest chamber, Danzo sat alone.
He watched the field through a projection mirror, face expressionless.
"You should not have survived," he whispered.
"But now… you will serve."
Behind him, a Root handler approached. "Sir, the operative is engaging target Hatake."
Danzo didn't turn.
"Send no reinforcements."
"None?"
"He was built for this."
Back in the plaza, Arashi's movements became more desperate.
Every strike he landed slowed the monster—barely.
Every blow he took rattled bone.
And KAI-0 wasn't tiring.
He didn't even bleed.
Just reset.
Arashi's blade flicked out, slicing across the ribs—
—and the wound sealed mid-swing.
"Regeneration seal," he murmured.
That was a problem.
Most of his finishing techniques required critical strikes.
Not suppression.
He needed a chakra disruption field.
He reached into his pouch, pulled a sealed kunai—loaded with a fragmentation tag designed for sensory jamming.
He hurled it.
It exploded in a burst of black smoke and static chakra.
KAI-0 staggered, recalibrating.
Arashi struck.
Low sweep. Elbow lock. Two quick chakra scalpels to the spine.
The monster buckled.
Then—spasmed.
And roared.
It wasn't a sound of pain.
It was a reset.
Its body surged with corrupted chakra, and for the first time—
—Arashi saw a glitch in its structure.
A crack.
Beneath the flesh: seal arrays, etched directly into bone.
Not standard.
Not even Uzumaki.
Danzo had used hybrid sealing techniques.
Poorly.
Arashi's mind raced.
If he could overheat the seal nodes…
He formed a quick-fire hand seal.
"Lightning Style: Cage Spark!"
Electric arcs blasted into the air, coiling like snakes and drilling into KAI-0's skin.
The seals sizzled.
The figure screamed—not in pain.
In code failure.
The mask cracked.
The chakra flared—
—and suddenly, the figure collapsed.
Arashi stood over him, chest heaving.
One eye open.
Blade raised.
And then—
—he lowered it.
The prototype twitched.
It wasn't moving to strike.
It was trying to curl into a fetal position.
Like a child.
Arashi knelt.
And for a second…
…he saw something in the man's eyes.
Not programming.
Not hate.
Just…
confusion.
"Who… am I?"
Arashi didn't answer.
He sealed the body.
Wrapped it in chakra chains.
And carried it into the night.
Two hours later, in the Namikaze estate's sub-basement, the body lay in stasis.
Kushina circled it, inspecting the corrupted seals.
"This was done with brute force," she said. "No nuance."
"He was a failsafe," Arashi replied.
Minato folded his arms. "And now?"
"Now, he's evidence."
Kushina touched the figure's chest.
"He's more than that."
Arashi said nothing.
Because deep down—
—he agreed.
Far below Konoha, Danzo burned the last activation scroll in the vault.
No words.
No expression.
Just a single phrase spoken to the dark:
"Your mercy is your flaw, Hatake."
To be continued.