As the image of Naruto's grave lingered in the sky, a shinobi on patrol in the forests outside Konoha narrowed his eyes. He focused his chakra, trying to analyze the phenomenon, his thoughts a silent, frustrated question. What is this thing? What are these images?
To his astonishment, his thought did not remain silent. It appeared, written in ethereal, glowing text, superimposed over the sky screen itself.
And then, the floodgates opened.
A trickle, then a torrent of glowing text began to cascade across the screen from all directions, a chaotic, anonymous global conversation born in an instant.
[Wait, there's text appearing on the screen now!]
[You can send messages to it? How?!]
[Forget that, what IS this thing?!]
[It's obvious, isn't it? This is a Konoha plot! Every single person shown has been one of theirs!]
[That's slander! Why would we broadcast something that makes us a target? This is a frame-up!]
[It has to be fake! The Haruno girl and the Uzumaki brat just became genin. They're kids! The ones on screen are older!]
[The Hyuga and the one in green, too. They're only a year ahead of them.]
[QUIET, you fool! Stop leaking village intelligence for the whole world to see!]
[So… let me get this straight. The people on screen are real, they're all from Konoha, and they're all rookie genin right now?]
[Average graduation age in Konoha is twelve.]
[The ones we saw looked at least fifteen, maybe sixteen. Is this… a glimpse of the future?]
[Don't be ridiculous! It's a Konoha conspiracy to sow chaos!]
[Oh, sure. And their grand plan was to show their own Jinchuriki's funeral? Use your head!]
[I'm telling you, it's aliens. There's no other explanation for technology like this.]
The Third Hokage massaged his temples, a deep headache blooming behind his eyes. The situation was spiraling out of his control with every passing second. "Find Kakashi and Guy," he ordered the ANBU at his side. "Bring their teams to me. Now."
Before the shinobi could vanish, the office door was pushed open without the courtesy of a knock.
Hiruzen Sarutobi didn't need to turn to know who it was. The chill that accompanied him was unmistakable. Danzo Shimura, his old rival and the shadowy leader of Root, strode into the room, his face an unreadable mask.
"Hiruzen," Danzo began, dispensing with any greeting. "You've seen the screen. Whether it's the future or an elaborate trick, Konoha is now the focal point of the world's fear and suspicion. For the security of this village, you must turn the Nine-Tails over to me."
Hiruzen let out a slow breath. It was the same tired argument Danzo had made for years. "The answer is the same as it has always been, Danzo. I will not hand Naruto over to Root. Your methods are not what he needs."
"He needs control," Danzo countered, his voice flat and cold. "Something you have failed to provide. My way ensures he becomes a perfect weapon for the village."
"He is a shinobi of the Leaf, not a tool to be programmed," Hiruzen replied, his voice firm. "I will have Kakashi increase his watch. Naruto will be protected."
"And you are not concerned by this… 'future'?" Danzo pressed. "By this clear demonstration of his weakness?"
Hiruzen gestured dismissively towards the sky. "It's too early to draw any conclusions. We will watch what this screen has to show us, and then we will discuss our options."
"I hope you do not live to regret that decision, Hiruzen." With that parting shot, Danzo turned and left, his presence fading as quickly as it had appeared.
Hiruzen sighed, his gaze returning to the sky. He didn't have time for Danzo's machinations. A new face had just appeared on the screen, a painfully familiar one.
[A blonde woman, the kanji for 'Gamble' emblazoned on the back of her green coat, stared out a window with a melancholic, world-weary expression. A thought, not her own but a perfect reflection of her aura, appeared on the screen: 'Is everything... truly decided by fate?']
The barrage of comments exploded once more.
[Wow! Who is that beautiful woman?!]
[You don't know her? That's Lady Tsunade of the Legendary Sannin!]
[Beautiful? Don't be fooled by her looks, that woman is old enough to be your grandmother!]
[See! Another one from Konoha! And you still say it's not their plot!]
In a town far from Konoha, Tsunade slammed her sake bottle down on the table, her stupor instantly broken. "What in the hell?" she slurred, staring at her own face in the sky. "I don't remember that."
"Lady Tsunade," Shizune said, clutching the piglet Tonton nervously. "The comments... they're saying it's the future."
Tsunade just scowled. "Let's just watch and see."
In the Pure Land, Hashirama Senju, still on his way to find Madara, let out a booming laugh. "Hah! My granddaughter Tsunade has grown up so well!" He tried to send a comment of his own, but it vanished into the ether.
The image on the screen shifted again, revealing a dark, ominous canyon.
[Five figures stood on a cliff's edge, looking down at a temple shrouded in mist. The man in the lead, dressed in black robes, spoke in a voice that was little more than a rasp.]
["The time has finally come. With the dark medical ninjutsu we have perfected, we will awaken the spirit of Moryo and unite the world under its power!"]
The barrage went wild.
[Unite the world? This guy's got ambition!]
[Wait… Moryo?! Did he say MORYO?! It can't be!]
[What is Moryo? Anyone know?]
[That name is an S-rank secret among the Great Nations. If you don't know, you're not meant to.]
In the remote Land of Demons, a young priestess named Shion gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Lady Shion, stay calm," her attendant, a man named Zuho, said quickly. "It is only an image on a screen."
"But they said it was the future!" Shion argued, her voice trembling. "And the girl who cried for Naruto... she looked a little like me. Does this mean Moryo will be revived soon?"
"Even if that were true," Zuho said in a placating tone, "it means we have been forewarned. With your power, we can surely seal the demon once more."
His words offered some comfort to the priestess, but none to another man watching from a secluded village miles away. A man named Huang Quan, the very same black-robed figure now displayed on the screen for the world to see, felt a cold sweat bead on his forehead.
His entire life, his entire plan, had been built on anonymity. He had orchestrated the last near-resurrection of the demon and escaped without anyone ever knowing his name.
Now, his face and his goals were plastered across the sky. His life of hiding was over.
Panic seized him. Without a second thought, Huang Quan began frantically packing a bag. He had to run. He had to disappear before the shinobi of the five great nations came for his head.
(To be continued...)