Three months had passed since the first batch of Hashirama cells had been grafted into her body.
After many similar injections, the fusion had finally stabilized.
The pain, the fevers, and the chakra distortion had all faded into strength.
Her physique now radiated raw vitality, and her chakra reserves had multiplied many times over.
Ryusei had been right.
Her Scorch Release burned hotter and wider, her aura denser, and her precision sharper than ever.
Her muscles carried silent tension, her chakra surged like molten fire, and even her breathing felt too alive.
She had reached High-Kage level, in Ryusei's own words, no more, no less.
That morning, she stood at the border cliff overlooking Sunagakure, her home and her demise.
Wind scoured the sand, cutting faint lines across her face. She had no hesitation present.
Now, the desert wind carried the village into view below, its sandstone walls, domed rooftops, and golden towers reflecting sunlight like old bones.
She whispered. "Let's finish this."
From the horizon, soon, the air shimmered as a figure approached, her silhouette blurred by waves of distortion, not from the heat, but from the aura that surrounded her.
Pakura walked through the gates she once defended, the same gates that now bore the mark of betrayal.
Her Scorch Release flared faintly around her, gold-orange light refracting off the ground like a mirage.
The guards recognized her face instantly, the hero once been proclaimed dead, then branded a traitor.
Their hesitation lasted only seconds before instinct drove them to attack.
They didn't even reach her.
A pulse of heat rolled outward from her body, invisible but absolute.
The air turned to glass mid-motion, and their weapons melted before they could strike.
A single step forward shattered the crystallized air like fragile sand, and the two shinobi fell silently, not burned, just emptied of all moisture, dry husks in the wind.
Katsuyu's small fragments on her shoulders quivered faintly, their tiny voices humming with quiet concern.
Ryusei had ordered them to stay attached to her, to heal if she faltered, boost her chakra when needed, or reverse summon him if things went beyond control. She had laughed at the overprotectiveness but allowed it anyway.
Somewhere deep inside, she was touched.
The inner rings of the village trembled next.
People screamed as her Scorch aura spread, warping metal, glass, and even chakra barriers.
Her every step left faint trails of molten sand, and the air rippling behind her like fire under water.
Her mind was calm. She remembered their faces. Rasa. Chiyo. Ebizo.
And others in the village council that had tried to assassinate her and then branded her a traitor.
She wasn't here to conquer.
She was here to end something.
The first volley of kunai vaporized midair.
Her aura burned the weapons before they came within five meters.
A flick of her wrist. Scorch Release: Heatwave Barrage.
The air ignited, and slicing waves of heated wind tore through the street, leaving nothing but charred silhouettes where they stood.
However, more squads poured in from every direction again, the air filled with shouts and clattering weapons.
The plaza rippled with chakra signatures as dozens of shinobi surrounded her, forming a tightening circle, firing hand signs.
"Pakura of the Scorch Release! You dare return here?" one of them shouted, his voice trembling between fear and disbelief.
She didn't bother answering with words.
A blinding flash erupted around her.
Scorch Release: Solar Flare.
The world turned white, searing light swallowing their sight and senses alike.
Before the first scream faded, her blade ignited, a streak of molten brilliance cutting through the haze.
Scorch Release: Radiant Blade.
Every swing left arcs of plasma that tore through armor and flesh, melting the sand beneath their feet.
Then she spun, her cloak flaring outward as spirals of fire burst from her movement.
Scorch Release: Mirage Tornado.
Columns of superheated wind howled across the plaza, dragging those still standing into a cyclone of light and flame.
When it ended, only glass sand and drifting ash remained.
She walked forward through the haze, her steps calm, her voice low.
"Shout louder next time. Maybe your Kazekage will hear you."
She moved forward, step by step, her cloak hissing, her eyes unwavering.
She wasn't here for them. But anyone who stood in her path would fall.
"I told you I'd never betray Suna," she said, walking through the haze. "You betrayed me."
The closer she moved toward the most important village center, the stronger the opposition grew: sensory teams, elite jonin, Suna's prized puppet divisions, wind specialists wielding folding fans, and sealing experts armed with binding cloths all rushing to intercept her.
However, she cut through them with ruthless efficiency, weaving between attacks to conserve chakra while her orbiting miniature suns incinerated anything that came too close.
Only when the timing demanded it did she unleash her heavier techniques, each one precise and deliberate.
Her current physique was also far beyond what most could follow with their eyes, and the heat surrounding her made it nearly impossible to approach or pinpoint her form, as she was constantly flickering in and out of sight through the shimmering, pulsating haze.
So, in front of the all-too-familiar, larger, round, and sandy Kazekage building, she soon appeared in a blur of heat and light.
Waves of so-called elites stood ready all over the building, forming a living wall around the officials they were sworn to protect.
Rows of jōnin and chūnin surrounded the tower, forming seals, preparing water barriers to counter her.
Rasa himself stood at the top balcony, his cloak snapping in the wind, golden dust swirling lazily around him.
"Pakura of the Scorch Release," he said, his tone sharp but uncertain. "You should not exist. Or be this strong..."
She raised her gaze. "Sasori was supposed to make sure of that, wasn't he? You sent him. Your own shinobi. The puppet you molded to kill his comrades."
"Pakura," his voice echoed through amplifying seals. "You've lost your mind."
"No," she answered, her voice carried by chakra. "I finally found clarity."
He frowned, raising a hand.
The sand surged into the air, compressing into shimmering gold spears.
"Then I'll end your madness here."
The sky turned into a cloud of metal dust.
The next instant, it rained. Each drop was a weapon.
Her chakra flared like a miniature sun.
Rasa's gold dust still swirled upward, shaping into vast walls and lances.
He still hurled every construct he could muster down with magnetic precision.
Pakura moved through them like light.
Spears melted before reaching her; walls collapsed into dripping gold.
Scorch Release: Radiant Blade.
A blade of pure plasma burst from her palm.
She swung it once, and the entire balcony exploded.
Rasa shielded himself, retreating into the air atop a floating platform of gold.
His eyes narrowed. "You can't win against the Kazekage."
He was already blending his magnetic gold dust with the ordinary sand surrounding the entire giant building, merging them into a single mass that began to rise and swirl under his control.
"Then die proving it."
She raised her hands, spheres of fire forming around her in orbit.
She needed to end this chapter of her life, to let her spirit finally rest in the justice of revenge, and then return to Ryusei's side.
Twelve blazing orbs started condensing into one vast sun above her.
She quickly realized that Rasa's expanding field of control wasn't her only threat. All around her, the gathered forces had finally finished preparing, dozens of elites and hundreds of regular shinobi encircling the plaza now.
The moment their formations were completely locked in place and the sensory units confirmed alignment, their coordination tight enough to avoid hitting their own ranks, a storm of jutsu would erupt from every direction, drowning her.