The gear-shaped device on Naruto's stomach wasn't just humming anymore; it was screaming.
WREEEE-krr-krr-krr.
The mechanical teeth designed to siphon his chakra were stripping, spitting sparks of violent violet light against the darkening sky. Naruto stood amidst the slush, his knees shaking, but he locked them. The red chakra wasn't leaking; it was forcing its way out, a pressurized geyser expanding under his skin.
Dotō Kazahana looked down at the boy, his face illuminated by the clinical cyan glow of his breastplate. He didn't look impressed. He looked bored.
"No matter," Dotō rumbled.
The tyrant triggered the hydraulics in his legs. Hiss-THUMP. He launched himself into the air, clasping his massive, armored hands together into a single, devastating hammer.
Naruto looked up, his slit pupils widening, but the air pressure alone pinned him in place.
Dotō descended.
CRACK-BOOM.
The impact didn't just break bones; it broke the geography. The thick shelf of ice beneath Naruto's feet shattered like a dropped mirror. A geyser of freezing slush and dark water erupted upward.
Naruto was driven down, punched through the ice and into the freezing black depths of the glacial lake beneath the shrine. The cold was absolute, a shock that seized his lungs instantly. He sank like a stone, the light of the surface fading into a distant, murky green.
Bubbles of air escaped his lips. Gurgle-hiss.
His vision darkened. The weight of the water pressed in on all sides.
I will not...
He thought of the look on Sylvie's face when she stabilized him. The clinical, terrifying fear in her eyes.
...let... Sylvie... down...
He thought of the heat. The spring.
I will... protect... you all...
Deep inside his gut, the seal twisted. The fox didn't laugh this time. It just pushed.
SNAP.
The sound was muffled by the water, but the effect was immediate. The chakra-control device on his abdomen shattered. Metal shrapnel flew outward, tearing through his jumpsuit.
The water around him didn't just churn; it flash-boiled. A sphere of steam exploded outward, glowing with a terrifying, malevolent crimson light.
"Naruto..."
I fell to my knees in the slush, the freezing water soaking through my pants. I watched the black hole in the ice where he had vanished. My diagnostic overlay was running a countdown—time to hypothermia, time to oxygen deprivation. The numbers were bad.
Suddenly, the air pressure dropped.
It wasn't the wind. It was the sound of raw ionization.
CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP-SHREEEE.
It sounded like ten thousand screaming birds of prey diving in unison.
"CHIDORI!"
"RAIKIRI!"
Two blurs of lightning—one pale blue, one harsh white—streaked past me.
Sasuke Uchiha, his right arm dangling uselessly at his side, thrust his left hand forward, wreathed in high-amperage current. Kakashi-sensei mirrored him on the right. Their Sharingans left trails of red light in the mist.
ZZZT-BANG.
They struck Dotō simultaneously. Sasuke hit the back plate; Kakashi hit the chest. They didn't try to pierce the metal this time. They overloaded it.
The armor's blue tubing flared blindingly bright, the capacitors screaming as they tried to absorb two S-rank lightning signatures at once. Dotō roared, a sound of genuine pain, and swiped wildly. Kakashi and Sasuke leaped away, skidding across the ice, leaving the tyrant smoking and stumbling.
I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"You okay, kid?"
Anko-sensei was suddenly there. She smelled of scorched leather and snake oil. Her trench coat was torn, but her grin was predatory.
I nodded, my throat tight. I raised a shaking hand and pointed slowly at the churning, broken ice in the center of the lake.
"But... Naruto..."
Anko followed my gaze. She didn't offer empty comfort. She just clicked her teeth, a sharp tsk sound, and turned back to the fight.
"Manipulated Tools: Heavenly Chain Disaster!"
Tenten was in the air, spinning a massive scroll. Clack-clack-clack-clack.
A hundred projectiles—kunai, shuriken, spiked balls—rained down from the sky. It wasn't random; it was a grid of suppression fire.
"What?!" Dotō looked up, raising his gauntlets to shield his face.
The steel rain hammered against his armor. Most deflected with sharp pings, but some found purchase in the joints, sticking out like porcupine quills.
"Stop wasting my time!" Dotō bellowed, swiping a handful of kunai out of the air.
He never saw the blind spot.
Neji Hyūga slid across the ice, his movement silent, his posture perfect.
"Eight Trigrams... One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms!"
Neji didn't strike flesh. He struck the machine. His hands were a blur of motion, targeting the luminescent blue conduits webbed across Dotō's armor.
Thap-thap-thap-thap-thap.
"Two palms... Four palms... Eight palms..."
He was compressing the false tenketsu of the suit, creating backflow pressure in the hydraulic lines. Dotō staggered, the servos in his legs whining as they fought against the disruption.
I took a deep breath, preparing to mold chakra for a retrieval jutsu, but then I stopped.
The battlefield data shifted.
The temperature in the clearing spiked. The frost on my goggles melted instantly.
I didn't need to look. I could feel it—a massive, localized surge of high-density thermal energy. It wasn't the "evil" feeling people described; it was just power. Raw, unrefined fusion.
I looked down.
The dark water in the break in the ice wasn't dark anymore. The entire ocean beneath us was glowing a deep, violent red.