As Zeldris's voice faded, the entire world seemed to pause—like even the wind wanted no part of what came next.
From his outstretched hand, a white orb pulsed into life. Not glowing—blazing. A miniature star, humming with barely-contained destruction.
It shot forward.
And in the space between one breath and the next—
BOOM.
The Tailed Beast Bomb exploded. Not detonated. Exploded. As in: violently unmade at a molecular level.
The sky became a lightshow of ruin. The shockwave ripped across the Sand Village like it owed Zeldris money.
Buildings crumpled. Streets fractured. Sand whipped skyward in a howling cyclone of glass, fire, and disbelief.
Somewhere in the chaos, a chunin whispered, "Oh... oh, we're the filler arc now."
And just like that, it sunk in.
The One-Tail's ultimate attack hadn't just been blocked—it had been bullied. Dismissed. Slapped out of the sky like a fly that talked back.
"Is this…" another shinobi gasped, "...is this even legal?"
But Zeldris wasn't done.
The orb didn't disappear. It pivoted midair, like it had a grudge, and locked eyes with its next target: Shukaku himself.
The sky warped around it. Space twisted. The air screamed like it knew what was coming.
And Shukaku—ancient, proud, rage-beast Shukaku—froze.
For the first time in a thousand years, he looked genuinely unsure.
"Wait. WAIT. That's not how this works. I am the natural disaster!"
Too late.
He had nothing left to throw. He'd launched his best shot. Zeldris had laughed, punched it, and then sent the receipt.
"Wh-what even is this kid?!"
The orb struck.
BOOM.
No words.
Just obliteration.
The shockwave rippled across the desert, flattening everything. Trees disintegrated. Rock turned to dust. Entire portions of Sunagakure vanished.
From high above, sand and debris floated for a second, caught mid-fall in the sheer awe of what had just happened.
Then, like a curtain call, gravity resumed—and down came Gaara.
Unconscious. Drained. Light as a feather, deadly as a secret.
Zeldris was already moving. He caught the boy before the wind could. Gently. Casually. Like he was picking up groceries.
He looked down at Gaara's limp body and exhaled.
"…Can't let fifty million ryo go to waste."
And just like that, he vanished into the night.
No victory speech. No glare back at the ruins.
Just a clean exit.
Professional.
Back on the battlefield, the silence hit harder than the explosion.
Nobody cheered.
Nobody moved.
They just stood there, blinking at the still-smoking hole where their village used to be.
"…S-So. Uh. Is it just me, or is half the village gone?"
"Why the hell did a monster like that show up here?!"
"Guys. That was a tailed beast. A literal sand demon. And he just… deleted it?"
"Did anyone even pay this man? Did we insult his dog or something?!"
No answers.
No Rasa.
No reinforcements.
Just the smoking crater and the ringing in their ears.
Further out, Chiyo and Sasori had both stopped mid-fight. Even puppets knew when to take five.
Sasori blinked. Twice.
"…So. He wasn't bluffing."
He turned toward the blast site and smirked. A quiet, slow, I-kinda-wanna-steal-that-guy's-bones kind of smirk.
"Well, looks like his mission's done. I'll save our little reunion for next time, Granny."
Without waiting, he turned and disappeared into the shadows like a ninja who absolutely did not want to be caught in that guy's line of sight.
Chiyo didn't chase him.
Couldn't.
Her knees felt like sand. Her fingers twitched without reason. Her heart was still trying to remember what a normal rhythm felt like.
That…
That wasn't a jutsu.
That was judgment.
In all her years—fighting Kage, fighting wars—she'd never seen that kind of power. That raw, unfiltered ending.
Not even Madara had felt this… casual.
She stared into the distance, toward the heart of the devastation. Toward the boy who had turned a god into sand.
Whatever plans Sunagakure had… whatever schemes Rasa thought he was running...
It was over.
One kid ended it all.
And nobody even knew his full name.
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