NNT — 13:00PM — Hidden Darkness, Root Chambers, Land of Fire
The air was heavy with the stench of decay and corruption as Danzō, the Lord of Darkness, sat shrouded in an aura of malevolence, his presence seeming to draw the very light out of the room. The obsidian walls that entombed him appeared to absorb the faint glow of the torches, leaving only an eerie, flickering dance of shadows on the cold, dark stone. The scent of old steel, blood polish, and secrets kept too long hung like a miasma, choking the breath from the atmosphere. His lone eye, a cold, calculating orb, studied the ancient scrolls sprawled across his war-table, the flickering torchlight casting an otherworldly glow over the intricate war charts and anatomical diagrams inked with precision—and cruelty.
Before him lay a dossier sealed in chakra-binding wax, a crimson smear marking it like a bloody fingerprint—one of his own blood sacrifices to the art of clairvoyant war. The scroll unraveled itself under his gaze, revealing the details of Operation Leviathan. The target was Raghoul, a man to be taken alive if subdued, but dead if uncooperative. The assigned agents were Shin Uchiha, Sayu Yamanaka, and Doru Aburame, a trio of deadly shinobi handpicked for their unique skills and ruthless efficiency. The special command was clear: execute the mission under total blackout, leaving no traces, no failure.
Danzō's lips curled back in a snarl, his voice like the crack of bone: "The beast walks unshackled... time to offer it a collar—or a grave." With a single touch of his fingers, the parchment burst into flames, leaving no ash, only the acrid scent of burning paper and the promise of war.
---
NNT — Five Days Later — Land of Birds, East Marshes
The bog stretched out like a decomposing lung, half-drowned in creeping mist that seemed to seethe and twist like a living entity. Raghoul's cloak dragged through the brackish mud, soaked in dark algae and regret, as he trudged through the treacherous terrain. Beside him, Musashi's footsteps squelched in rhythm—steady, limping, familiar, a reminder of the countless miles they had traveled together.
"Tomorrow we reach the outpost," Musashi said, his voice thinner than it used to be, worn down by the relentless passage of time and the weight of their shared experiences. He knelt beside a dead heron, its beak cracked, feathers scorched, a grim testament to the unforgiving nature of their world. "Still warm. The land eats itself. We are late."
Raghoul paused, his eyes scanning the horizon, his senses on high alert. Flame coiled under his skin like serpents in a jar, waiting to be unleashed. "Too quiet. The crows don't even scream."
Musashi cast a sidelong glance, his eyes clouded with concern. "Paranoia again?"
Raghoul's gaze never wavered. "No. It's not paranoia when they're coming for your throat." His voice was low, even, a warning, a promise of the violence that was to come.
Hidden among the twisted mangroves, three shadows flowed like cancer: Shin Uchiha, his Sharingan already spinning under a veil of black cloth; Sayu Yamanaka, her lips moving without breath as she layered genjutsu upon genjutsu; and Doru Aburame, a silent ghost whose beetles swarmed in anticipation, crawling through his orifices, stitched seams, and gloved fingers like black veins come alive.
---
NNT — Nightfall, Same Day — Hidden Clearing
The air went rigid, the silence oppressive, as Raghoul turned instantly, his muscles tight, his voice low. "Behind us."
Musashi whispered, "Still time to run."
Raghoul's response was a cold, mirthless smile. "No. I'm done running." The three Root shinobi emerged from the haze like phantoms, their presence warping the mist itself, the very wetness of the air recoiling in terror.
Sayu's voice came first, hollow and tranquil, a gentle breeze that belied the horror that was to come. "Raghoul. Come quietly."
Raghoul rolled his neck, his eyes flashing with defiance. "Why would I kneel to some damn shadows?" His voice was a challenge, glowing flames flowing underneath his dark skin like blood, a fury that would be soon unleashed.
Her eyes glazed, her mind already reaching out with the
Mind Clone Jutsu: Spine-Tethered Marionette.
Tendrils of chakra laced through the air and stabbed into Raghoul's temples, unleashing a torrent of images—burning orphanages, missions gone wrong,faces he'd forgotten, children he couldn't save. Their screams piled like bricks in his mind, threatening to consume him.
He buckled, snarling, as the memories washed over him. "Get out of my head, witch!" The words were a growl, a primal scream of rage and defiance.
Musashi slammed his palm onto Raghoul's back, channeling restorative chakra into his friend's battered body. "Focus! Remember who you are!" The words were a lifeline, a desperate attempt to anchor Raghoul to reality.
But it was too late. Doru's insects surged forward in a carpet of chittering fangs, a tidal wave of death that threatened to consume them all. Raghoul's arms burst into
Katon: Bloodfire Vein Release.
The flames erupting from his skin like a volcano unleashing its fury. The fire was dark bloody red, boiling, and oozing, a living thing that seemed to have a hunger of its own.
"Incineration Stance: Flayed Lotus!"
Raghoul screamed, his voice lost in the roar of the flames. He spun, his body a blur of motion, as he unleashed a maelstrom of fire and fury upon the insect horde. The scent of melting carapace was unbearable, a noxious cloud of death that hung in the air like a miasma.
Shin Uchiha moved then, his body a flash of speed and steel. The Sharingan glittered like a god's curse, its power unleashing a torrent of destruction upon Raghoul. Two kunai flashed in the dim light, striking true and biting deep into Raghoul's side.
Thud.
Raghoul gasped, blood pouring from the wounds like a river of life. He stumbled, caught the boy's wrist mid-spin, and slammed his forehead into Shin's nose with bone-crushing force. The sound of breaking bone was like music, a symphony of violence that seemed to echo through the clearing.
The boy cried out, but too late. Raghoul's flames surged forward, a liquid torrent of fire that splashed across the Uchiha's chest like lava. Screams erupted, a cacophony of pain and terror that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth. Raghoul gripped his shoulder, his fingers closing like a vice.
Snap.
The arm came off like a cooked bird's wing, a gruesome parody of a jointed doll. Sayu screamed, her voice a raw, animalistic sound that seemed to tear the air apart. "No!"
Musashi raised a watery dome between Raghoul and the Yamanaka, his chakra shield shimmering like a mirage as it reflected Sayu's jutsu back at her in fragments, distorting her projections. But Doru was already at Musashi's flank, his blade sinking into the old man's kidney like a hot knife into butter.
Thunk.
The sound of the blade biting deep was like a death knell, a tolling of the bell that seemed to signal the end of all things. Musashi gasped, time slowing as he felt his life slipping away. "Raghoul..."
Raghoul turned, his eyes blazing with fury, his face twisted into a mask of rage. The world bled, a crimson haze that seemed to color everything. He didn't run. He didn't scream.
He simply moved.
"Blood Horizon!"
The words were a battle cry, a call to arms that seemed to unleash a torrent of fury upon the world. Flame erupted from his legs, shooting him forward in a streak of liquid fury. His fingers found Doru's throat, closing like a vice as the flames poured inward, cooking the man from the inside.
Doru choked, screaming as smoke belched from his mouth and eyes. The bugs tried to flee, but Raghoul burned them all, his flames consuming everything in their path. Sayu's genjutsu cracked under the heat distortion, her illusions shattering like fragile glass. She backed away, weeping through clenched teeth. "Impossible... You were supposed to be a man!"
Raghoul's voice was a low, even tone, a sound that seemed to carry on the wind like a death knell. "I'm not. I've lost everything, the monk, now this!??... This is a monster of your making."
She fled into the marsh, disappearing into the darkness like a ghost. Raghoul didn't chase her. He didn't need to. Everything she believed in—Root, Danzō, authority—was already burning.
---
NNT — Aftermath
The swamp was ash, the trees turned to glass, their branches etched like delicate pen and ink drawings against the sky. Steam hissed upward in ghostly strands, a misty veil that seemed to shroud the world in mystery. Raghoul knelt at Musashi's side, his eyes fixed on the old man's face.
"Old man..." The words were a whisper, a soft breeze that seemed to carry the weight of Raghoul's grief. Musashi trembled, his hand rising like a drowning man's, his fingers grasping for Raghoul's wrist.
"Your fire... it hurts too much... even the air screams." The words were a gasp, a desperate attempt to convey the pain that was consuming him.
Raghoul took his hand, his grip tight, his eyes locked on Musashi's face. "Stay. Please. I can carry you." The words were a plea, a desperate attempt to keep the old man alive.
Musashi coughed blood, his body shuddering with the effort. "No... not this time..." His fingers spasmed, gripping Raghoul's wrist with a fierce intensity.
"Remember... the sick children... the well we dug... the rogue medic we cured... the songs we sang by firelight..." The words were a stream of consciousness, a flood of memories that seemed to pour out of Musashi like a river.
Raghoul felt his memories slam open like ancient doors, the hinges creaking with a rusty screech. He saw himself two years ago, a sixteen-year-old lost in the wars and guilt, the nightmares that plagued him, conspiracies he didn't want to be apart off, until meeting the healer Musashi. Memories of laughing beside Musashi, sharing dumplings, stitching wounds, reading maps, teaching orphans to stand. He remembered Musashi's wife, long dead, her hands smelling of ink and lilies, although a literary bag of bones her laughter filling their camp like sunlight, comforting her daughter.
"It's okay to burn," Musashi once said. "But burn for something worth remembering." The words were a mantra, a guiding principle that had reminded him of the old abbot and had driven him forward, even in the darkest of times.
Tears scorched Raghoul's cheeks, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "You were worth remembering." The words were a whisper, a soft breeze that seemed to carry the weight of Raghoul's grief.
Musashi smiled, his eyes cloudy with death. And then, he was gone.
---
NNT — Moments Later — Ash Basin
Raghoul stood, his body trembling with rage and grief. He didn't cry again. He screamed, the sound tearing from his throat like a raw, animalistic cry.
"From dust we come
And the dust we shall return
Strives and hope to touch the sun
But its light burns us not giving the warmth we crave
The world is grey when hope is found
Colourful when all is lost
Let's dye it crimson in my despair
Let's my nightmares invade reality.
The Devil has Awoken"
The words were a poem, a litany of rage and despair that seemed to pour out of Raghoul like a river. The sky turned red, the air screaming in agony as the ground liquefied beneath his feet. Flame poured from his bones like magma from a volcano, consuming everything in its path.
The forest around him, what was left, sank under the boiling flood, the trees burning like torches in the darkness. Somewhere in the trees, Sayu screamed as the heat devoured her genjutsu illusions. She ran, tripped, stumbled into the sludge, disappearing into the darkness like a ghost.
Raghoul didn't chase her. He didn't need to. Everything she believed in—Root, Danzō, authority—was already burning.
---
NNT — Hours Later — Burned Marshes
Only scorched bone remained of the Uchiha boy, Doru's insects ash, Sayu's body never found. Raghoul knelt before Musashi's remains, his eyes fixed on the old man's face.
He carved a gravestone with his fingers, burning the kanji into solid rock:
"Here lies the one man who gave water to a fire."
He placed Musashi's staff at the base, letting it turn to stone. Then, he whispered something in a lost tongue, the words old, older than the ninja nations.
"Let the fire in my blood be your memory."
And he left, his footprints flaming, burning themselves into the mud like curses.
---
NNT — Hidden Root Chamber, Land of Fire
Back in the deep, Danzō sat once more before his maps, his one eye twitching as he read the final report from Sayu.
"All agents dead. Target unstable. Leviathan protocol breached."
He exhaled, a cold, calculated sound. "Good."
And for the first time in decades, Danzō felt something stir in his chest.
Fear.
The Devil had awoken, and nothing would ever be the same again.