The sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows across the embattled Forest of Death.
The air was thick with smoke, the metallic tang of blood, and the lingering scent of spent chakra.
Shinobi, weary but still driven by the phantom promise of the castle's treasure, continued their desperate struggle.
Suddenly, a strange ripple distorted the air above a particularly fierce skirmish between a group of Hidden Stone shinobi and a detachment from the Hidden Sand.
The battling ninja froze, their instincts screaming danger. Out of the distorted space stepped four figures, their appearance unlike anything seen in the shinobi world.
First, Scathach emerged, her long, flowing purple hair shimmering, her elegant yet deadly spear, Gáe Bolg Alternative, held loosely in one hand.
She wore a dark, form-fitting outfit that spoke of agility and lethal grace.
Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, swept over the chaos, a faint smile touching her lips.
She didn't radiate chakra; instead, a different kind of energy, cold and precise, seemed to hum around her.
Next, Saber appeared, her golden hair catching the dim light.
She wore a gleaming suit of armor, though it wasn't the heavy, clanking kind favored by some shinobi.
It was light, almost ethereal, allowing for swift movement.
She carried a sword, not a katana or a ninjatō, but a broad, ornate blade that seemed to hum with an unseen power.
Her expression was calm, composed, but her blue eyes held the unwavering focus of a warrior.
Following her was Jeanne, her long, blonde braid draped over her shoulders. She wore a white, flowing dress-like garment, adorned with subtle gold trim, and carried a large, intricately designed banner.
She looked more like a priestess than a warrior, yet there was an undeniable strength in her gaze, a deep well of conviction.
She exuded an aura of purity and quiet power, completely alien to the chaotic energy of the shinobi.
Finally, Morgan stepped forth, her dark, elegant dress contrasting with her stern, almost regal expression.
Her long, black hair cascaded around her, and in her hand, a staff pulsed with a subtle, purple light.
Her presence was cold, ancient, and undeniably powerful. Unlike the others, there was a hint of raw, untamed power in her aura, a dangerous beauty that promised destruction.
The shinobi stared, dumbfounded.
These newcomers didn't wear headbands, didn't move with the familiar chakra flow, and their clothing was utterly foreign.
"Well, this looks… lively,"
Scathach mused, her voice a low, melodic purr that somehow carried over the din of battle.
She spun her spear, its tip whistling softly. "Who shall we play with first?"
Saber simply nodded, her hand instinctively going to her sword.
Jeanne gripped her banner, her expression one of quiet resolve.
Morgan, however, chuckled, a chilling sound.
"Let's see what these little fireflies are made of," she said, her staff glowing brighter.
They moved as one, not towards the castle, but into the fray. And they didn't use any of Sullivan's divine power, not directly.
That would be too boring, too quick.
They simply used their own, honed abilities, their natural strength and unique skills.
Scathach was a whirlwind of precision.
She moved faster than any shinobi, her spear a blur. She didn't kill, not yet.
Instead, she disarmed, she disabled, she knocked shinobi unconscious with expertly aimed strikes to pressure points.
A Stone ninja tried to hit her with an Earth Style jutsu; she weaved through the crumbling earth, appearing behind him in an instant, a swift kick to the knee sending him sprawling.
A Sand kunoichi lunged with a poisoned kunai; Scathach simply sidestepped, her spear deflecting the blade with a soft clang, then gently tapping the kunoichi's forehead, knocking her out cold.
Her movements were a deadly dance, elegant and efficient, leaving a trail of disarmed and bewildered shinobi in her wake.
Saber, with her armored grace, was a force of pure, focused power.
She didn't use flashy power, just her sword.
Her strikes were incredibly fast, each one imbued with incredible force.
She could parry a dozen shuriken at once, the clinking of metal against her blade a sharp symphony.
When a group of Cloud shinobi tried to overwhelm her with taijutsu, she moved like a whirlwind, her sword blocking and redirecting their attacks with impossible speed.
She didn't cut them, but the sheer force of her blows sent them flying, often shattering bones with the impact.
Her sword hummed with a strange, non-chakra energy that resonated with the air around it, creating small, localized gusts of wind with each swing.
Jeanne, despite her peaceful demeanor, was a bulwark.
When a series of fireballs from Hidden Mist ninja flew towards a cluster of exhausted Leaf shinobi,
Jeanne stepped forward. Her banner, held aloft, shimmered, and the fireballs simply dissipated before reaching their targets, as if an invisible wall had appeared.
She didn't attack. Instead, she placed herself between fighting groups, her presence alone seemed to calm the immediate area.
When a desperate shinobi tried to attack her, their blows glanced off an unseen barrier.
Her power wasn't offensive, but defensive, radiating a protective aura that seemed to absorb and nullify chakra-based attacks.
It was an uncanny sight, leaving both allies and enemies utterly baffled.
Morgan, however, played a different game.
Her power was subtle, insidious. She didn't engage in direct combat often.
Instead, she would raise her staff, and the ground beneath battling shinobi would suddenly become unstable, sending them stumbling.
Or the air around them would grow heavy, making their movements sluggish.
She conjured thorny vines from nowhere to entangle weapons, or caused illusions of sudden, terrifying shadows to appear at the edge of a shinobi's vision, making them hesitate.
Her magic wasn't chakra, it was something else entirely – ancient, primal, and utterly unpredictable.
She laughed softly as a group of Stone ninja, disoriented by her illusions, began to fight each other.
The sight of these four figures, fighting with unknown methods and seemingly without chakra, sent shivers down the spines of the shinobi.
They were powerful, undeniably so, but in a way that defied all their understanding.
Back in their respective hidden villages, the Kage watched with growing horror and confusion.
This was no longer just a free-for-all for a rumored treasure.
Something new, something far more unsettling, had entered the fray.
In Konoha, Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, stood by his window, his face etched with grim determination.
He had pulled back his Anbu, prioritizing the defense of the village walls.
But now, new reports were flooding in, reports that made his blood run cold.
"Hokage-sama," an Anbu operative reported, his voice strained. "New entities have appeared in the Forest of Death. They are not shinobi. They do not use chakra as we know it. Their fighting style is… alien."
An image, grainy but clear enough, appeared on a projected map in Hiruzen's office.
Four figures, distinct in their attire and movements, were highlighted.
Hiruzen zoomed in, his eyes widening.
"Look at their clothes," Hiruzen muttered, tracing the image of Scathach's outfit. "And the way they move. There's no build-up of chakra, no hand signs, no familiar flow. This is… something else."
In the Hidden Sand Village, Gaara, the Fifth Kazekage, sat in his office, his arms crossed, his usual stoic expression replaced by one of intense focus.
He had been observing the chaos through his sensory network.
"Lord Kazekage," a Sand Jonin reported, "Our forces are encountering… anomalies. Individuals who fight with powers we do not recognize. They are not using chakra, yet they are incredibly potent. They are not affiliated with any known village. Their appearance… it's like nothing we've ever seen."
Gaara's sand swirled faintly around him, a sign of his deep concentration.
He had felt the unfamiliar energy signatures, cold and precise, unlike the warmth of chakra.
He had seen the reports of weapons that hummed with unseen power, of barriers that dissolved jutsu, of illusions that twisted reality without a single genjutsu sign.
"This is not a shinobi conflict anymore," Gaara stated, his voice low but firm. "This is an unknown force. Something outside the Elemental Nations. Something we are not prepared for."
In the Hidden Cloud Village, the Raikage slammed his fist on his desk.
"What in the blazes are these new freaks?" he roared, his usual calm demeanor shattered.
A weary Cloud shinobi saluted.
"Raikage-sama, they are… formidable. One, a woman in armor, deflects our Lightning Style attacks with a sword that glows. Another, a woman with a banner, can stop our jutsu cold. They fight without chakra, yet their power is immense. They aren't trying to kill, but they are utterly dominating the battlefield."
Raikage paced, his mind racing.
"No chakra? How is that possible? This is beyond our understanding. This is not a village war. This is… an invasion of a different kind."
Onoki, the Third Tsuchikage, floated in his office, his face a mask of disbelief and frustration.
"Lord Tsuchikage," a Stone operative reported, "Our men are being incapacitated by unseen forces. Illusions that aren't genjutsu. Ground that turns to mud without a single hand sign. A woman with a spear, moving like a phantom. They are not shinobi, Lord Tsuchikage! They are… something else entirely."
Onoki narrowed his eyes. He had witnessed countless battles in his long life, but this was unprecedented.
The lack of chakra, the bizarre fighting styles, the utterly foreign appearance of these new combatants – it all pointed to one terrifying conclusion.
"This is not a domestic dispute,"
Onoki declared, his voice surprisingly steady.
"This is an external threat. An entity or entities that operate beyond the very fundamental principles of our world. We are up against an unknown force."
All of the Kage, independently and almost simultaneously, came to the same chilling realization.
The Forest of Death was no longer just a battlefield for greedy shinobi.
It had become a stage for something far grander, far more dangerous.
These new combatants, with their strange attire and non-chakra based powers, were clear evidence that the Elemental Nations were facing an unknown power, a power that should be outside of their world entirely.
The whispers Sullivan had planted had grown into loud shouts, then into explosions, and now, into something far more profound: a desperate realization by the leaders of the shinobi world that they were caught in a game they didn't understand, against a foe they couldn't comprehend.
And the game had only just begun.
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Little Spoiler: Sky Island...