The air grew thick, suffocating. Each breath came harder than the last, Seiran's lungs burning as the weight of the siege pressed down on him like a physical thing.
No escape routes. The Iwa shinobi had locked down the perimeter.
Then I carve my way out.
Ruthlessness flickered across his features as he drew a kunai. The moment his fingers closed around it, electromagnetic energy surged through the blade. It transformed into a projectile of pure destruction—blue lightning screaming through the air.
A chunin's scream cut short. A crater the size of a fist tore through his chest. He dropped, eyes wide and glassy.
---
Inside the command tent, Taiseki's eyes snapped open.
"It's not good, Lord Taiseki!" A messenger stumbled through the flap, panic written across his face. "The enemy anticipated our trap and struck first!"
"Hmph." Taiseki dismissed the concern with a wave. He'd sent six chunin and one jonin for this capture. The kid wouldn't make it five steps before being subdued.
But the messenger's next words made him freeze.
"Three chunin are dead! He killed them in seconds—the fourth just fell! This opponent is—"
Impossible.
Taiseki's pupils constricted. Without another word, he surged to his feet, chakra exploding outward. The tent flap tore clean from its hinges as he bolted toward the sound of combat.
Around the camp, shinobi watched in confusion. Some whispered theories—a scout, maybe a spy—but none could explain the Jonin Commander's sudden fury.
The fifth shinobi fell, a shuriken wrapped in crackling blue electricity punching clean through his throat. Seiran's expression remained cold, methodical. No hesitation. No mercy.
Then his head tilted—sensing something. A massive chakra signature bearing down on him from the direction of town, moving fast enough to split the air.
No time left.
An Earth Release jutsu split the ground beneath him, but Seiran was already airborne. A boulder-fisted figure erupted through the dust—Taiseki, muscles rippling with barely contained power. His punch cratered the earth, spiderwebbing cracks across the ground where Seiran had stood a heartbeat before.
"I wondered why my scouts never returned," Taiseki growled, his gaze locking onto the boy's pale, almost ethereal eyes. "When I found you skulking near camp, I knew. You killed them."
Recognition flickered. "The Byakugan..."
"Who the hell are you?" Taiseki demanded.
Seiran considered the question. "Minato Namikaze."
Silence. Then Taiseki's face went blank—confusion warring with rage. This wasn't making sense. Minato was legendary, sure, but he was a man in his thirties. This was a teenager. And those eyes...
Realization hit. He was being mocked.
"You little shit—"
Taiseki pivoted his stance, slashing his palm downward.
"Earth Style: Earth Divider Jutsu!"
The ground split like a yawning mouth, racing toward Seiran with the speed of a snapping jaw. Seiran backflipped, his sleeves shimmering. Silver liquid metal poured out, coalescing mid-air into a sleek, deadly sniper rifle. His eyes were chips of ice.
The muzzle flashed. Blue lightning erupted.
But the shot wasn't aimed at Taiseki.
It was aimed at the encampment behind him.
In the split second Taiseki turned to warn his men, the bolt struck true—but not at the command center. It punched through a figure mid-warning, creating an exit wound the size of a head. Blood misted the night air.
When Taiseki looked back, he realized: that had been one of his own. A sensor ninja, most likely.
He understood too late.
"What—?" His hand went to his forehead, confused. Then the pain hit. A searing, impossible pain. His vision tilted. The sky wheeled above him, impossibly distant.
When he hit the ground, he was already dead.
The remaining Iwa shinobi froze in shock.
Seiran's expression didn't change. He couldn't afford witnesses—not sensor types who could track him. The rifle dissipated back into liquid metal, flowing up his arms like living silk. A smile, thin and predatory, crossed his face.
Then thunder crackled around his body. Electromagnetic propulsion engaged, and he shot forward like lightning itself.
The remaining shinobi watched him go, too stunned to move.
By the time they processed what had happened, Seiran was already disappearing into the night. Taiseki was dead. The barrier was broken.
More Iwa shinobi were arriving now, drawn by the disturbance. Seeing their commander's body sparked something primal. Without hesitation, without a single moment of doubt, the entire unit surged into motion.
"Move!" a surviving officer roared. "That Hyuga shinobi doesn't leave this night alive!"
The sound of footsteps—dozens of them—echoed across the dark landscape. A pursuit, swift and merciless, fanned out across the terrain.
Against the black canvas of the night sky, the chase was already legendary before it had truly begun.
---
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