Smoke rose over the eastern border of the Land of Fire as Kakashi made his way back to Konoha. Was this the aftermath of battle? No. It came from a strange haze coming from the activated Pillars. Each beacon was in perfect alignment. Sai's information had been right. Together they formed a star across the world. A pentagram meant not for summoning but for sealing or unsealing.
Kakashi maintained a calm appearance but his mind raced. The Herald had warned that the Root would rise. But what was the Root? And what would it mean for the shinobi world?
He quietly descended into the underground archive, a place few remembered existed. This had once been Tobirama's domain. Secrets too dangerous to be kept in the Hokage's tower were stored here.
Ancient scrolls crumbled under his fingers as he searched for mentions of the Root. Not Danzo's Root. This was something older. Much older. Did he find references to a force buried before chakra had a name? Yes. Buried beneath the Shinju. Not its root but the Root.
The first chakra?
The first consciousness?
It had no name. Yet it had hunger.
Meanwhile Naruto felt anxious. He said he was not just exploring shrines anymore. Something was pulling him in. It was changing him.
Shikamaru agreed. His chakra signature was stabilizing but at levels that did not add up. It was like he was balancing five elemental natures naturally. Even Naruto could not do that without Sage Mode.
Sai added his brain patterns were changing too. His Sharingan might not be conventional anymore. My ink sensors detect cognitive layers beyond human limits.
Naruto slammed his fist on the desk. He is still Kakashi. We must remember that. But we also need to understand what he is becoming.
Elsewhere in the Land of Wind the Second Pillar exploded.
Dormant sandstorms surged with unnatural intensity as ancient glyphs carved into rock glowed. A team of ANBU sent by Gaara had gone missing.
At the shrine's center stood another Herald. This one had antlers made of bone and its chakra felt colder, lunar almost sterile. It whispered to the winds
The Root remembers its enemies. And it remembers betrayal.
Kakashi meditated beneath the Hokage monument that night. The stone faces towered above him, silent witnesses to a legacy he had inherited and left behind. Was he seeking power anymore? No. He was learning responsibility on a scale he had never imagined.
A voice interrupted his trance.
Jiraiya?
Or something that resembled him?
It was not Genjutsu. It was a blend of memory, emotion, and spirit. Kakashi did not flinch.
You are at the edge, the vision said. Few walk beyond this without breaking.
I do not plan to break.
But will you bend?
Kakashi remained quiet. That was the key question.
Meanwhile a secret council of elders met in Iron Country. Samurai sages and exiled seers gathered. A conflict was approaching, not one of armies but of principles. Chakra was never meant to be turned into a weapon like this. The Root was returning to cleanse the corruption.
One elder whispered that Hatake Kakashi bears the Seal of Equilibrium. He must choose whether to become the blade or the barrier.
In Konoha's inner garden Kakashi stood before the tree planted after the Fourth War. A symbol of unity.
He pressed his palm against the bark.
Did the tree respond? Not with chakra but with awareness. It knew him.
Memories surged
● Obito's death
● Rin's scream
● Minato's fall
● Pain's invasion
● The war
Then
Nothing
Then
Everything
The tree revealed a vision. Not of the current world but of the world before chakra. Before villages. A realm where beings moved without form, pure thought, pure intent. They were chakra. And they feared only one thing
Emotion
Love Rage Regret Joy
Did emotion give shape to chaos? Yes. Did emotion give birth to individuality? Yes.
Kakashi understood that the Root was not evil. It was order. Purity. A return to unity.
And was he now its vessel?
Yes.
But Kakashi had experienced grief. Had known love and sacrifice. Would he surrender those?
No.
I will walk this path my way.
The seal on his palm pulsed once.
The tree responded
Then ascend.
Far to the north in the ruins of an ancient meteor crater the Third Pillar stirred.
But something else stirred with it.
A new figure stood in the shadows wearing black and red. Neither Herald nor human. Something in between. Watching.
Waiting.
Waiting.
......