---
The battlefield trembled with every step of the advancing enemy forces. Smoke and dust choked the air, the scent of fire lingering as cries of combat echoed across the ridge.
Ryuzen's vision blurred. Red warnings flared inside his mind:
[⚠ Vital Levels Falling]
[⚠ Energy Systems Overload]
[⚠ Emergency Lock Engaged]
The storm that always answered him flickered weakly, then dimmed. His knees buckled, his sword slipping from his grasp as the world fell away into darkness.
---
The Defense
"RYUZEN!"
Duy leapt forward, intercepting blades aimed at the boy's fallen body. His fists shattered stone, each strike costing him more than his body could endure.
Sakumo's blade cut swift arcs, standing firm though blood already stained his uniform. Minato's yellow flash darted across the battlefield, pulling comrades from the jaws of certain defeat.
"Protect him!" Sakumo ordered, voice carrying over the chaos.
The Konoha shinobi, weary and wounded, tightened their ring around Ryuzen. But the enemy pressed harder, their focus clear: eliminate the unconscious stormbearer.
The ground cracked under Duy's strikes, Minato's chakra wavered from overuse, and Sakumo fought with grit alone. Yet the tide was too heavy. The circle was breaking.
---
The Silence
Then — the battlefield hushed.
Figures emerged from the smoke, clad in dark armor that absorbed the light. They moved silently, their presence sending a chill through both ally and enemy alike.
Without a word, they slipped into formation around Ryuzen's body. Enemy strikes that sought him never reached their mark — each was deflected with impossible precision.
Konoha shinobi froze. The invaders hesitated, confusion flickering across their faces.
The leader stepped forward, his mask carved with a single jagged line. His voice was low, steady, and carried across the quiet battlefield:
"The storm is ours to protect. Stand aside."
---
The Shift
The enemy commander roared, "They're Konoha too — strike them down!"
Shinobi surged forward. But the newcomers answered with movements sharper than lightning and darker than shadow. Their jutsu were efficient, their strikes controlled. Not a wasted motion, not a single word.
One moment, enemy jonin pressed the charge. The next, they were scattered, overwhelmed by the sheer precision of these silent operatives.
The battlefield that moments ago had leaned toward Konoha's destruction was suddenly reversed.
---
The Claim
When the dust settled, silence returned once more.
Konoha shinobi could only stare. These warriors had formed an unshakable barrier around Ryuzen.
Sakumo tightened his grip on his blade. "Who are you?"
The leader turned, his mask unreadable.
"We are the Obsidian Division."
The name carried no history. No records. No explanation.
Minato frowned, breath unsteady. His gaze flicked to the faint crackles of dark-blue lightning still arcing over their armor — lightning that resembled Ryuzen's storm.
The leader knelt, lifting Ryuzen's unconscious form with deliberate care.
"From here… his path is under Obsidian's watch."
Before Sakumo could demand answers, before Minato could act, the entire squad faded back into smoke, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.
The field was left in stunned silence, only the wind carrying away the last whispers of battle.
---
Author's Note
The storm's secret guardians have revealed themselves. The Obsidian Division has stepped from the shadows, claiming Ryuzen as their own.
What lies ahead is no longer only a war between nations — it is a struggle for control over the storm itself.
Next: Chains of the Obsidian.
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