They started hearing heavy breaths—deep, guttural, like the growl of a lion stalking its prey in the fading light. The air around them seemed to thicken, each inhale heavier than the last. Shadows stretched long as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, casting the forest into a twilight gloom where the last golden rays fought desperately to hold the night at bay.
Their eyes lifted uneasily toward the source of the sound.
There, towering above the trees and smaller figures, was a colossal silhouette. While the ninjas themselves stood around five foot six or five foot nine, this figure loomed at least ten feet tall, draped in shadows that seemed to ripple and shift like smoke.
Two burning golden eyes pierced through the dusk, glowing with an intensity that seared into the hearts of those who dared look upon them.
It was as if the forest itself bent beneath the weight of this presence—an ancient power, wild and untamed, radiating an overwhelming aura of dominance and raw strength.
The air grew colder, the hairs on their skin standing on end.
A wave of primal fear crashed through the group, paralyzing even the most battle-hardened among them. Every instinct screamed to flee, yet their bodies rooted to the spot, mesmerized and horrified all at once.
The figure bent slightly, its gaze fixed on Rin and her would-be captors.
Amid the growing twilight, the tension was palpable—thick enough to choke on.
The group of four shinobi, battered and tense, stared up at the towering figure standing before them. The fading sunlight barely grazed the edges of the colossal silhouette, casting long, eerie shadows that merged with the approaching night. The air was heavy and still, punctuated only by their uneven breaths and the distant rustle of leaves.
Suddenly, one of the shinobi, a wiry man with eyes burning fiercely despite the fear gripping his heart, broke the silence. His voice cracked but held a desperate conviction as he shouted,
"It's just an illusion! Don't let this thing fool you!"
Without waiting for agreement, he lunged forward, drawing a kunai from his belt with practiced speed. His arm swung forward, sending the small, razor-sharp blade slicing through the dimming air. The kunai glinted sharply, catching the last fading rays of the sun as it spun in a deadly arc toward the immense figure.
The weapon struck the giant squarely in the chest, producing a metallic ting—a sound so clear and unnatural in the quiet forest it seemed to echo endlessly. It wasn't a dull thud or a soft impact.
The clang rang like two swords meeting in battle, an unmistakable confirmation that the figure's body was no mere shadow or phantom. The impact resonated through the clearing, vibrating in the bones of everyone present.
The great figure wavered for a moment, a deep rumble seeming to emanate from its form. Its burning golden eyes flashed with surprise and a trace of amusement, but it did not dissipate or recoil. Instead, the giant shifted its weight slightly, the immense presence still intact, still looming, yet undeniably tangible and solid.
Around the clearing, the four shinobi staggered back, eyes wide with shock and terror. The wiry ninja who'd thrown the kunai swallowed hard, his hands trembling but still clutching his weapon. Even with all his willpower and training, he was shaken by the reality before him—a colossal being far beyond human scale and comprehension.
Rin, standing nearest to the giant and clutching herself tightly, felt her knees weaken. Her small frame trembled violently, shivers coursing through her like icy fingers. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of awe and abject fear, locked onto the figure's burning gaze.
It wasn't merely the size or the glow—it was the overwhelming, ancient power that radiated from it like a living storm, a presence older than the forest itself, a force that did not belong in the world of men.
The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, the whisper of wind stilled as if nature itself recoiled from the figure's might. The golden eyes bored into each of the shinobi like twin suns, scorching their very souls with an undeniable truth—this was no illusion, no trick of light or shadow. This was something otherworldly, something that transcended the boundaries of reality and reason.
Rin's heart hammered painfully in her chest as primal fear clawed up her throat. Every instinct screamed for her to flee, to escape the gaze of this impossible being. But her feet were rooted to the ground, held captive by a dreadful curiosity and the undeniable truth that the world was far larger—and far stranger—than she had ever imagined.
The golden eyes continued to burn like twin beacons in the darkening forest, and the giant figure remained motionless, an ominous sentinel shrouded in shadow. The four shinobi exchanged fearful glances, their faces pale beneath the fading light. The weight of the situation pressed down on them like a suffocating fog.
One of them, a burly man with a jagged scar running across his cheek, finally broke the silence. His voice was low, edged with panic, trembling as he spoke.
"We can't take that thing. There's no way we can fight it and live."
"We might had a chance but now we are tired-"
Another, younger but hardened by battle, shook his head fiercely, stepping forward.
"Then what do you suggest? We run? Do you want the Kage's wrath on us for abandoning the mission? If we flee now, we're as good as dead—no pardon, no forgiveness."
The tension escalated. The scarred man's jaw clenched."If we stay, that monster will rip us apart before reinforcements get here. We'll die anyway—and so will the girl. Better to leave her behind than be all slaughtered."
His words hung in the air like a death sentence.
A third voice cut in, cold and pragmatic.
"The Three-Tails will be reborn if we let her go. This is bigger than any of us. If the beast wants her, let it have her. We can't stop destiny."
The leader's eyes narrowed, brows furrowed in frustration and desperation.
"Leaving her isn't an option. She's the key to all this. If we abandon her, the Kage will see it as betrayal. We'll be hunted just as fiercely as that thing hunts her."
The group fell silent, caught between fear of the unknown and fear of their own leaders.
Rin's trembling figure was barely visible now, pressed against a tree, eyes wide and filled with helplessness. The cold reality settled over the shinobi like a shroud—no matter what they decided, death or betrayal awaited.
The forest seemed to lean closer, shadows swallowing the last light, while the giant figure watched silently—an unyielding force of fate.
Rin's chest heaved with uneven breaths, her small frame trembling as the cold, humid air of the forest settled heavier with every passing second. The fading sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting long, twisting shadows across the moss-covered ground. The jungle was alive with the distant calls of unseen creatures, but to Rin, everything seemed muted, as if the world was holding its breath alongside her.
Her mind was a turbulent sea of fear and acceptance. She knew, with a grim certainty, that this might be her last moment. Death loomed before her like a thick fog—whether it would come at the hands of her own comrades or by the monstrous presence looming in the shadows was no longer her concern. The sterile walls of her village, the faces of those she loved and trusted—none of it mattered anymore. Only the cold truth remained: I am going to die.
Her eyes fluttered shut, tears threatening to spill but swallowed back with desperate effort. She was so tired. So very tired. And yet, amidst the swirling storm of despair, a flicker of strange calm blossomed deep within her. She no longer fought against the inevitable; she welcomed it.
Whatever came next, she would face it head-on—even if it meant facing Death alone.
Around her, the sound of hurried footsteps grew louder, accompanied by low, tense voices. The shinobi who had surrounded her now hesitated, their earlier confidence drained, replaced by a raw, primal fear.
One whispered, voice trembling. "We should run."
Another's voice cracked with frustration and anger.
"If we run, the Kage's wrath will catch us! We'll die anyway!"
"Better to die on our own terms than be devoured by that... that monster!" another argued bitterly.
"We leave the girl here. The Three-Tails will be reborn—let it feed on her."
Rin's heart shattered with every word. Betrayed. Forsaken. The cold, harsh reality of her situation crushed her spirit like a boulder.
She opened her eyes slowly, staring blankly at the darkened trees ahead, where the golden eyes still burned like twin suns. The forest felt suddenly claustrophobic, the shadows closing in from all sides.
Her breath hitched as the footsteps scattered, the shouts fading into desperate cries of retreat. The shinobi abandoned her.
Alone.
Her legs, numb and weak, barely held her upright. She swallowed the bitter taste of tears and braced herself.
The forest grew still—oppressively so—as if nature itself recoiled at what was to come.
Rin closed her eyes once more, whispering a silent farewell to a world that had betrayed her.
The shinobi scrambled desperately to flee, but an invisible wall of thick, purple aura slammed into them with the force of a battering ram. Their frantic movements slowed, then froze as the sinister energy wrapped around their limbs like living chains.
"Hey! What's happening?!" the leader shouted, eyes darting wildly between his comrades, only to find horror etched on every face. None could move. Blood began to seep from the pores of one shinobi's pale face, his eyes bulging in agony as his body convulsed and began shrinking rapidly.
"K-Kurobane?!" Another gasped in terror, voice cracking with disbelief.
Before anyone could react further, the shrinking man exploded with a sickening blast of blood that splattered over the jungle floor, painting the leaves crimson.
A scream tore through the heavy air as others suffered the same grisly fate, their bodies bursting into pools of gore as the purple aura pulsed mercilessly.
The stench of fresh blood and death flooded the air, so overwhelming that Rin's stomach churned violently and she fought to keep herself from vomiting. Her trembling hands clenched tightly at her sides, fingers digging into the earth as if anchoring herself against the mounting horror. The ground seemed to quake beneath the rhythmic, thunderous thuds of massive footsteps.
Then, as if emerging from the very shadows themselves, a colossal figure rose. The last rays of the dying sun caught the silhouette, revealing a towering form—far beyond the stature of any man. Rin's wide eyes locked on the being before her, breath caught in her throat.
It was no mere man. To call him such would be a disgrace.
He emerged from the shadows—a towering colossus cloaked in molten gold.
His armor gleamed like dawn's first light,each plate a fragment of the sun itself.
Shoulder pauldrons flared wide—wings of ancient celestial beasts,etched with star-forged runes that whispered forgotten power.
The breastplate, a radiant sunburst,its rays stretching down like divine judgment,shining with an unyielding brilliance.
Beneath, the layered tassets flowed—liquid metal weaving protection and grace,catching the fading sunlight in a shimmering dance.
His greaves, runed and flawless,guarded legs that struck the earth with thunder,bearing the weight of gods and kings.
Two colossal swords were sheathed on his back,too vast for mere mortals' grasp—blades that shimmered with cold, silvery-blue fire,hilted in leather dark as night,wrapped in gold like thorned vines.
Moonlight kissed his Armor's edges,casting long shadows that swallowed the forest floor,an ethereal glow from a presence that should not exist.
His golden eyes burned—fiery orbs that saw through flesh and bone,piercing the darkness like twin stars fallen to earth.
This was no man—but a God in war's resplendent armor,the embodiment of divine wrath and ruin.
The moonlight bathed the figure, causing the armor and swords to shimmer with an ethereal glow, casting long, ominous shadows across the blood-soaked jungle floor.
Rin's heart pounded so fiercely it felt as though it might tear free from her chest. Her small frame shook violently beneath the overwhelming presence before her—a God among mortals, a living embodiment of power and destruction.
The towering figure moved with a grace that belied his immense size, his massive hands rising slowly in the fading light of the evening. Shadows stretched and curled around him like dark smoke, swallowing the remaining rays of the sun. Rin's breath hitched, and she squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body trembling—not just from fear, but from the weight of what was to come. She was bracing herself for pain, for destruction, for the end.
But then, unexpectedly, his great hand descended—not with a crushing blow, but with an almost tender gentleness. The rough fingers, larger than her entire head, reached out and lightly rested on the small frame of the girl. The contrast was surreal—this godlike being, whose presence alone could shake the earth, now performing a delicate, protective gesture.
His hand ruffled her hair softly, as if comforting a frightened child. His deep, resonant voice broke the heavy silence, warm and calm like a distant storm retreating,
"You're safe now, child."
Rin's eyes snapped open, wide and unblinking. Her jaw hung slack in a mixture of shock and awe. In that moment, everything she had feared—the violence, the darkness, the terror—seemed to melt away beneath the weight of his unexpected kindness. The towering figure before her was no longer just a monster or a god of war. In this quiet touch, he was a protector.
A guardian.
A saviour.
A Hero.