Eli moved silently through the dense forest on the outskirts of Kumo, every sense on edge. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting flickering shadows across the undergrowth. Ahead, faint torchlight glimmered between the trees — a base, bigger than he expected. Every instinct screamed at him to turn back, but he had come too far.
"Eli, do you have any idea how bad this looks?" Calyx murmured beneath his skin, voice dry but tense. "A hundred Kumo shinobi, a Raikage, and you're walking in like a spectator."
"I've got to see it for myself," Eli whispered. "We need proof. Someone has to know."
He slipped closer, low to the ground, shadow blending with the forest floor. The murmur of coordinated footsteps and the sharp crackle of chakra signaled he wasn't just intruding on any building — this was a war council in motion. The Raikage's voice boomed across the courtyard, commanding his forces, issuing orders to prepare for an incursion into the other Great Villages. Eli's stomach twisted.
A patrol caught a glimpse of movement. Eli reacted instantly. Shadow clone formation flared as he ducked behind a fallen crate, throwing a kunai silently. Substitution Jutsu — he swapped places with a nearby crate mid-strike, and the attack met only air.
Two more shinobi closed in, weapons drawn. Eli shouted, "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower!" Flames burst from his hands, scattering one, while "Wind Style: Gale Palm!" shoved another back against a stone wall. Shadow clones moved in tandem, striking, blocking, distracting, creating space for him to breathe.
His pulse raced, every sound amplified: the Raikage's booming orders, the shuffle of armored feet, the crackle of lightning chakra. Eli darted forward, unsteady but precise, dodging a spear and tossing a shuriken without announcing it.
The door of the main hall burst open. The Raikage emerged, lightning crackling across his skin, muscles tense, eyes burning with ferocity.
"You shouldn't be here," the Raikage growled, voice cutting through the night like a blade.
Before Eli could react, a lightning-laced strike slammed into his chest, sending him skidding across the stone courtyard. Pain flared violently, ribs cracking, his vision clouding. He staggered to his knees, the world swimming around him.
"Let me take over!" Calyx hissed urgently.
Instinct overtook thought. Black liquid surged across his body, coiling and snapping like living steel. Tendrils shot out, striking the first wave of guards, slamming them aside or pulling them into crushing grips. Eli moved as predator and shadow, every motion lethal, precise, fluid.
The Raikage advanced, lightning arcing with each step. "Your skill is impressive, but this is Kumo's might!" He struck again, lightning fists slamming into Eli's side, sending him flying. Pain tore through him, and he crashed into the ground, vision spinning.
Eli groaned, tendrils quivering. His attacks became raw instinct — he lashed out without thinking, pulling, snapping, striking. The guards closed in from all sides. Each one was met with black liquid, coiled and whipping with terrifying precision.
The Raikage's jutsu flashed next: bolts of lightning converging into spinning spheres, arcs leaping across the courtyard. Eli ducked, rolled, and countered: "Wind Style: Gale Palm!" Gusts pushed attackers aside, "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower!" Flames erupted, scattering lightning arcs away from his clones.
He tried to regain footing, but a massive punch from the Raikage sent him crashing through crates. Pain surged through his body, every movement agony. Shadow clones were shattered under the relentless attack. Eli realized he could not survive this on instinct alone.
Tendrils shot out, connecting to the Aburame bugs crawling along his arms and shoulders. Black liquid consumed them instantly, biomass and venom fusing into the symbiote. Strength surged back into Eli's body; wounds felt alive with energy, venomous power bolstering every nerve.
He roared, launching back into the fray, tendrils snapping, coiling, pulling enemies into incapacitating strikes. The Raikage struck again, but now Eli moved with unerring speed, his body flickering, swapping places with debris and shadows to avoid blows.
Lightning surged across the courtyard, spinning in arcs, but Eli's black tendrils absorbed the momentum, striking guards faster than the eye could track. He lashed out, tearing through formations, pulling enemies off balance, consuming their brains to fuel himself.
The Raikage's fury intensified. he bellowed, advancing in full Lightning Chakra Mode. Arcs of energy leaped from his body with every step. Eli's body twisted fluidly, black tendrils snapping out to block, absorb, and counter. He threw kunai and shuriken silently, weaving through the storm of attacks, while shouting his jutsu to disrupt the Raikage's defense.
Pain lanced through him as the Raikage's fists slammed into his side, legs, and shoulders. Eli staggered, nearly overwhelmed. Shadow clones were shredded under the relentless barrage. He twisted violently, letting the symbiote lash outward in a living storm, snapping through guards with brutal efficiency, tendrils striking, pulling, tossing.
Finally, the Raikage fell, massacered by the unrelenting force of the symbiote. Eli's body was battered and torn, black liquid coiling, tendrils twitching with exhaustion. He collapsed onto the stone floor, barely conscious.
Calyx moved through him, pulsing and coiling. Tendrils flowed through the remaining Aburame bugs, consuming them to restore Eli's strength and stabilize his injuries. Venom coursed through Eli, replacing lost energy, leaving him alive but exhausted, scarred, and gravely injured from the battle.
By the time he stumbled from the base at dawn, the moon had faded, the first hints of sunlight touching the Land of Fire. He limped away from konoha, each step heavy with fatigue, every movement a reminder of his first true kills.
The first spark of the Great Ninja War had ignited. Eli, scarred, gravely injured, he stood at the center of it — a prodigy with a deadly secret, carrying Konoha's survival and the full weight of predatory power.
"Next time," Calyx murmured, "don't stroll into a war council."
Eli smirked, black liquid settling across his body. "Noted."
And in the quiet dawn, he understood what it meant to be a shinobi: survival at any cost, the burden of killing, and the predator he had become — born of shadow, venom, and relentless instinct.