Above the sea between the Land of Fire and the Land of Water.
A formation of giant ink-black eagles, majestic and formidable, soared across the sky—each carrying a squad of Konoha shinobi atop its broad back. Their eyes scanned the horizon, the air tense with anticipation.
"I heard... Lord Hokage has awakened Wood Style?"
The whisper carried through the wind between two shinobi, their voices laced with awe and disbelief.
"Wood Style?"
"You mean the same as the First Hokage?"
The murmurs grew louder with incredulity. Every shinobi in Konoha knew what those words meant.
Wood Style—Mokuton— the unique and godlike kekkei genkai of the First Hokage, Senju Hashirama, a power whispered about in reverence through generations.
"That can't be true… can it?" one said, eyes wide."A friend of mine in the sealing corps told me—swore it was true. But he wouldn't say more."
Heads turned. Eyes searched the skies. Some looked ahead, others back toward the lead eagle where Hyuga Naraku, the Fifth Hokage, stood silently, eyes fixed forward—his Tenseigan shimmering with celestial might.
"If it is true... and Lord Naraku has inherited that power…""...then this war might already be over."
The voices faded as the sharp cry of a Hyuga shinobi rang out.
"Alert! Enemy chakra detected up ahead—numerous signatures!"
Naraku's glowing Tenseigan pierced the swirling mist before them. A dark silhouette gradually emerged—an island fortress, shrouded in vapor and crawling with Mist shinobi.
Thousands of them.
Waiting.
"So they were expecting us."
Naraku narrowed his gaze. According to their scouts, this wasn't far from Kirigakure. But their response had come far too quickly.
"White Zetsu…" he thought, lips tightening.
"It must be his Mayfly Technique. He must've observed our deployment near Konoha and warned the one controlling Kirigakure. Then… that masked man used the Fourth Mizukage to mobilize them here."
Just then—
"Water Style: Hidden Mist Technique!"
Thick, unnatural fog erupted from the Mist shinobi below, swallowing the sky.
"Are they fools?" a Hyuga scoffed. "Mist Technique does nothing against Byakugan!"
Their chakra signatures remained clear as day to the Hyuga—each pulse of enemy energy illuminated in the fog.
But Naraku's eyes narrowed. He raised a hand.
"Wind-style users—dispel the mist. Now!"
There was no hesitation.
"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!""Wind Style: Gale Palm!"
Powerful gales erupted from the airborne shinobi, tearing through the mist and sending it rolling back toward the Mist forces.
"Water Style: Water Wall Jutsu!"
A commanding female voice rang out as a towering wall of water rose to shield the Mist shinobi.
Naraku's gaze sharpened, locking onto a woman with chestnut-brown hair and striking dual-colored eyes.
"Terumi Mei," he muttered."So that mist was laced with Boil Style acid vapor... she wanted to corrode the eagles."
Beside him, Kakashi Hatake immediately caught on.
"They planned to strip us of our air superiority," he said. "Once the birds fall, we're exposed."
On the island below, Terumi Mei chuckled, lips curled in feigned amusement.
"As expected of Konoha's Fifth Hokage. He saw through it instantly."
But her heart was far from calm. She counted—2,000 Konoha shinobi in the sky.
Their numbers matched Mist's… but their quality?
Konoha had long been the strongest of the five great nations. Their elite units were legendary.
"Kisame," Mei whispered to the tall, shark-like man beside her, "where's the Mizukage? If this continues, we'll be overrun."
Hoshigaki Kisame grinned wide, sharp teeth glinting, and hefted Samehada onto his shoulder—the living blade still pulsing with chakra hunger.
"Lord Yagura is handling their Hokage himself."
Mei's eyes darkened.
"So… the rumors are true. Yagura is being controlled… by that masked Uchiha."
She recalled Elder Genji's warnings. The truth stung sharper than she expected.
Kisame, for his part, remembered clearly the day he betrayed the watermelon pufferfish ghost and took his blade.
The old fool had abandoned his squad to die—retreating alone while Kisame's division was decimated.
When he returned to Kirigakure, bloodied and furious, he exposed the betrayal to Yagura… and "Madara" appeared from the shadows.
He was no fool.
When the mysterious man spoke of the Eye of the Moon Plan, Kisame was hooked.
A perfect dream world… an escape.
He accepted the invitation. And shortly after, he executed his former superior and claimed Samehada for himself.
It bonded with him easily.
Now, with his stamina unshackled and his chakra multiplied, Kisame felt unstoppable—so long as "Madara" defeated Naraku.
Suddenly—
"Wood Style: Nativity of a Sea of Trees!!"
The island trembled.
From its core, massive trees burst from the earth—thick as towers, coiling into the sky, surging like titanic serpents toward the airborne shinobi.
"Wood Style?!""No way—who used that?!""Isn't that First Hokage's technique?!"
The shinobi scrambled to evade. Giant eagles squawked and wheeled in panic.
And then they saw him.
A figure stepped onto the battlefield.
Clad in crimson samurai armor, with dark hair tied back, and eyes empty—hollow. His flesh bore cracks of gray and ash.
But there was no mistaking that face.
Every Konoha shinobi knew it.
Every monument, every history book, every classroom bore his image.
Senju Hashirama. The First Hokage.
Returned from the dead.