Chapter 3: First Mission & Survival
Dawn broke over the jagged peaks, painting the Steel Bloodline compound in shades of fire and iron. I had barely finished my morning training when the clan elders summoned me. Today, I would take my first mission outside the compound—a seemingly simple reconnaissance task, yet fraught with danger.
I followed the path down the narrow mountain pass, every sense alert. The air was crisp, the scent of pine and earth heavy. I knew, from my knowledge of history and clan politics, that these lands were a powder keg. Rival clans moved like predators, testing borders and weakness. One wrong step could end me. Or worse, the Steel Bloodline.
The elders had given me simple instructions: scout the border region near the Iron River and report any unusual activity. But I knew better. This mission was more than a test of obedience—it was a measure of how a child of our clan would survive in the real world.
I crouched behind a jagged boulder, scanning the riverbank. My instincts screamed danger. And then I saw them: a band of raiders, clearly from a minor clan vying for control of this territory. They were armed with rudimentary weapons, but one carried a small chakra blade—their skill was low, but they had ambition.
Most children would panic. Most would charge in, hope for luck. Not me. I had modern knowledge, strategy, and the patience to use them.
I observed their patterns, noting how they moved, how they signaled each other, the weak points in their formation. Then, using a small chakra pulse, I loosened a rock on the riverbank. One misstep, one slip, and they would be disoriented. I had no desire to kill; survival was the goal, not slaughter.
The raiders advanced carelessly, tripping over the rock I'd shifted. They cursed and stumbled, giving me the opportunity to slip past undetected. Every movement was calculated, every step precise. By the time I reached the other side of the river, I had mapped their camp and observed their patrol schedule. No lives lost, no alarm raised.
Returning to the clan, I felt a thrill I had never experienced in the modern world. This was real. Life and death danced on the edge of every decision. And I had survived—not because of raw power, but because of knowledge, foresight, and restraint.
The elders examined my report with a mixture of surprise and grudging respect. "You survived," one said quietly. "And you observed. Few of your age could do the same."
I kept my thoughts to myself, aware that revealing why I succeeded could draw suspicion. Modern knowledge was a weapon—and a dangerous one if misused in the wrong ears.
That night, I returned to the compound's walls, watching the distant mountains glow in the moonlight. I thought of the Uchiha and Senju, the seeds of their rivalry already germinating in lands far from here. I thought of my clan, small but resilient, and of the delicate balance I must maintain.
Survival was only the beginning. I had learned more than just observation and stealth today. I had learned that knowledge was power, and restraint was wisdom.
And in this world of steel and blood, wisdom would be my greatest weapon.