The night air was cool against my skin as we cut across River Country. Our footsteps thudded softly over grass that shimmered silver under the moonlight. The strike team kept in perfect sync behind me, not a word spoken. We moved like shadows, a blur of motion through the rolling fields that we raced across. Every breath drew sharp in my chest, but the rhythm of our strides kept me steady. I could feel the tension in the group—it wasn't fear, not yet, but that heavy anticipation that settled before blades were drawn.
Renji Hyuga was near the rear with his pale eyes constantly scanning, even in motion. Daichi Uchiha ran with that casual arrogance only an Uchiha could muster, barely masking his eagerness to prove himself. And Chosuke, the weathered veteran, held his ground at my side, silent and calm, his every movement efficient. They were capable men, different, but capable, and tonight, they were my responsibility.
The hours of steady running blurred into one another as the land changed from green fields to an arid, sparce region as the desert sought to spread out. The neat plains gave way to jagged stone. Rocky ridges jutted up like broken teeth, and here the air smelled faintly of dust. We had reached their patrol range a few hours before dawn. Somewhere beyond those rocks, the enemy's eyes swept the night just as surely as Renji's Byakugan did.
I raised a fist, slowing our pace, and the team followed without question. We slipped into the cover of a low outcropping, the stones forming a natural wall that shielded us from view. It was quiet here, the kind of stillness that pressed into the ears until the beat of your own heart became too loud. We crouched among the rocks, taking a moment to let our bodies rest and our chakra steady. Soon, the calm would be gone, shattered by fire and steel, but for now, this was our last chance to breathe.
I studied the men as they caught their breath. None complained or faltered, yet I could read the tension in their shoulders, the restless flickers of their eyes toward me. They were waiting for direction, for the plan, for me to tell them how we were going to survive walking straight into the heart of the Sand's army.
I let the silence stretch just long enough to weigh on them before I finally spoke.
"We're close," I said softly. "From here on, things change. When I move in, your mission isn't to fight at my side; it's to make sure we have a path to retreat from here. That's your only priority. Understood?"
Renji gave a single, crisp nod with his expression unreadable. His pale eyes swept back over the terrain, already scanning for threats. Orders were orders to a branch Hyuga like Renji, and he accepted them without hesitation.
Daichi, though, could not. He snapped his head toward me, eyes narrowing. "You want us to sit back and clear the path while you take the fight alone? I am not here to run errands while you prove yourself, Sarutobi." His voice carried sharp edges, loud enough that Chosuke shot him a warning glance, but Daichi's defiance burned hotter with every word. "I will not be left behind," he growled, his glare locked to mine, as though he could force me to yield by will alone.
I let my chakra uncoil with a cold stare into his eyes, not in a flood, but in layers as if I was pulling on my clones strength without summoning them. The air shifted first with the crackle of lightning, sharp and alive, then came the weight of earth, sinking heavy into the ground beneath us. Heat followed, the smolder of fire, rolling off me in waves that threatened to ignite. A whisper of wind stirred up the air, invisible but cutting, and beneath it, the cool undertow of water, steady and merciless, as if ready to drag him under.
He froze, every muscle caught between the clash of elements. His breath hitched, and I saw it in his eyes, the flicker of instinctive fear, the body's understanding that this was not a power he could meet and live.
I leaned forward, voice steady, each word sharpened by the weight pressing down on him. "You will follow my orders, or you will join the Sand in the Pure Lands."
The fire in him wavered, banked by fear he could not hide. His fists unclenched, his shoulders stiffened, and at last, he looked away. The arrogance was still there, but he buried it under the memory of what my chakra felt like when turned against him.
Chosuke shifted beside me, weathered face calm, though I caught the flicker in his eyes concern, not for himself, but for me or possibly Daichi if he continued to push his luck. He rested one hand on his blade and gave a low grunt. "Understood," he said, steady as stone. It was not obedience alone, but a promise that whatever happened, he would see me out of this.
Three men. Three answers. All bound to me, even if one fought the chain.
Renji's pale eyes tracked me as I reached into my pouch, pulling out a single shuriken. It looked ordinary enough, but I pressed it into his hand with a deliberate weight.
"This one isn't for throwing," I told him softly. "It's my way out. Keep it with you. If things go wrong, if you're exposed, channel chakra into it. I'll come straight to you."
He studied me for a long moment, the faintest crease forming between his brows, before nodding once. He understood.
Daichi snorted. "All this drama for an escape route? We could've been halfway to the Sand's walls by now."
I tilted my head toward him, unimpressed. "Patience isn't your strongest trait, is it?"
Before he could retort, I pulled a scroll from my belt and unrolled it across the flat stone at the center of our little circle. A pulse of chakra activated the seals, and with a hiss of smoke, the ground was suddenly stacked with neat bundles of explosive tags, hundreds of them, organized like a merchant's stockpile.
Chōsuke gave a low whistle. "Tell me you didn't raid half the camp's armory."
"Not a chance," I replied, amused by their wide eyes. "These are mine. Personal supply. Fūinjutsu pays very well if you've got the talent and the patience. I've been investing in my craft for years."
Daichi's scowl faltered, surprise cracking through the arrogance for the first time. Renji shifted, looking down at the sheer number of tags as though trying to calculate what a single detonation might do.
"Efficient and profitable," I added lightly, gathering stacks into my pouch. "What more could a kunoichi want?"
The longbow appeared next, drawn from another seal with practiced ease. Alongside it, a single oversized arrow, already etched with the Flying Thunder God seal, gleamed faintly in the low light. I set the bowstring, fitted the arrow, and drew it back until the wood creaked.
"Time to knock on their door," I said then released the arrow.
The arrow sang through the night, vanishing into the dark horizon. I slid my mask into place with a quiet click, hiding the flicker of anticipation in my expression. A heartbeat later, I summoned my Space-Time Clone and gave the three men a nod before Space-Time placed a hand on my shoulder.
With a burst of chakra from her, the world twisted sideways. In a single breath, and the trees, the rocks, and the waiting strike team were gone. In their place, the sand-smoothed walls of the enemy camp loomed around us, the faint glow of torches casting warped shadows. The oversized arrow quivered where it had buried itself into packed earth, just inside the perimeter.
My clone let me go and grabbed the arrow then sealed it away while I looked around. No alarm and not a person in sight. The two of us stood shoulder-to-shoulder, cloaked in silence.
"Goodshot," my Space-Time double murmured, her voice as calm and even as ever.
I allowed myself a thin smile beneath the mask. "Let's make it count."
With a sharp hand seal, chakra rippled outward, and five more figures shimmered into existence one after another. Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, and Lightning, each wearing my mask and waiting with an outstretched hand.
I drew the stacks of tags from my pouch and tossed them one by one, each clone snatching their share from the air with practiced ease. "Spread out. Cause as much havoc as you can, but don't overstay. Wait on the explosions until you've been spotted to make sure this place really goes up in flames."
Water gave a sharp nod, already moving with fluid grace toward the cluster of tents to the east. Fire cracked her knuckles and strode off toward the armory. Wind leapt lightly onto the nearest watchtower, vanishing with a whisper of motion, while Earth sunk into the ground like a mole. Lightning was gone in a flash, leaving only the faint prickle of static in her wake.
With a flick of her wrist, Space-Time threw a shuriken above a nearby watchtower and we both teleported to it. The top of the watchtower gave us a clear view of the camp below. From here, the rows of tents looked peaceful, their shadows shifting only with the rhythm of guards making their rounds. The hush was almost sacred, the kind of stillness that only existed before a storm.
Space-Time looked out and remarked, her voice was almost distant as she spoke, "People always savor the quiet, never realizing it is only borrowed time. They mistake calm for safety, unaware of the destruction already walking toward them."
I breathed in, slow and steady, then replied, "That is the way of shinobi. The quiet is never permanent. The only question is whether we're bring the storm… or the ones it crashes into."
The first explosion shattered the stillness.
A bloom of fire tore through the eastern quarter of the camp, followed almost instantly by the thunder of collapsing tents and the cries of startled shinobi. Another blast answered from the far side of the compound, and then another. Each one echoing through the night like the pulse of a drum. The camp, orderly and precise only moments ago, dissolved into confusion as my clones spread destruction in every direction. Explosions tore through supply depots and armories, scattering food, weapons, and bodies alike into the desert night. Each blast pushed the Sand further off balance, drawing their shinobi in disorganized waves.
From the beginning, I had locked onto the mark that I left on Rasa but ignored it. My goal was chaos and fear, letting the Sand know that I could strike whenever and wherever they least expected it. A chuckle escaped my throat as I sensed the mark moving westward, and fast; the great Kazekage fled while his camp burned.
I felt the first of my clones, Water, stumble beneath the press of enemy blades and trigger her remaining stack of explosive tags. Then, a deafening roar split the camp as it detonated unlike anything that had happened so far this night. Even the stone tower under my feet rattled from the shockwave.
Another clone, Fire, followed minutes later. Cornered against the southern wall, she released her tags in a desperate flare, wiping out her pursuers and leaving nothing but scorched sand in its place.
One by one, my doubles consumed themselves, each explosion sowing more panic, more fear. But, that was not the end for my clones as I could resummon them, with only a lack of chakra in their reserves as a reminder of the destruction that they had caused. Every death deepened the chaos until the Sand shinobi no longer fought like ninjas but like desperate men clinging to survival.
The ground trembled beneath the chain of explosions, each detonation rolling through the Sand camp like a drumbeat of chaos. Amidst the smoke and fire, Chiyo appeared with her eight puppets fanning out in a deadly crescent, strings shimmering faintly in the night air.
I brightened at the sight of her and called out, "Chiyo. It's good to see you again."
Her eyes narrowed, but she did not immediately strike. She was too wise, too cautious. The battlefield still echoed with the havoc of my clones, yet her focus was fixed squarely on me. "Why are you here, Sarutobi girl? What is it you want?"
I let the silence hang for a moment, playfully, then gestured lazily toward the smoke in the distance. "Oh, I wanted to stop by and enjoy the Sand's hospitality after you all visited us. I had hoped to greet your Kazekage, but I sense that he's run off. Am i really that frightening?"
The faintest flicker passed through her eyes, and I smiled behind the mask.
"I wonder... Is Pakura here? To be able to kill Danzo and escape from our camp is an impressive feat. It's a wonder that Rasa, a coward, is leading your village when there is someone so brave and strong around. Maybe you would not be in such a mess if she carried the title of Kazekage."
That hit its mark. Her jaw tightened, her expression still iron, but I could feel the tension running through the air between us.
"I'll be honest with you, Chiyo." I tilted my head, voice dropping low enough to cut through the chaos. "This isn't a personal visit. This is my first mission under Orochimaru's command. I was told to sow destruction, and you can see how effective I can be... but that doesn't mean it end here."
Her puppets creaked forward an inch, but she didn't command them to strike.
I stepped closer, my Space-Time clone mirroring me like a shadow. "Consider what comes next. If I'm sent out again, it might not be to your camp. It might be to your village itself, and I don't think either of us wants to see what that looks like."
For a long heartbeat, neither of us moved. The camp burned, the explosions continued, but this quiet held between us like a wire pulled taut.
I inclined my head, respectful this time, the faintest acknowledgment of what she meant to her people. "Think about peace, Chiyo... before it's too late and there is nothing left of your village but its memory."
Then, with a flick of her hand, my Space-Time clone seized my arm. The battlefield dissolved in a shimmer, and the two of us vanished together, leaving Chiyo standing alone among her puppets as her camp burned.