In an underground cavern, the silence was thick as tar. The ritual was about to begin. At the center, a circle carved with forbidden symbols pulsed with a crimson glow. Hidan, wrapped in his Akatsuki cloak stained with ritual ash, scratched his head with visible frustration.
"Tch! Us again? After the Four-Tails and the Five-Tails, now we're stuck doing the Two-Tails too... and in a rush?! This is abuse."
Kakuzu, arms crossed, looked at him with contempt from the shadows. The light of the seal cast a dim emerald sheen across his eyes. "You should be grateful. They brought you back, even if you can't call yourself immortal anymore. You're just another abomination, bound by that filthy Jutsu."
"Hey! I'm still me, alright? And my faith in Jashin is as strong as ever!"
"And your usefulness is debatable."
Beside them, the unconscious figure of Yugito Nii lay atop a carved stone pedestal. Her skin was pale, her lips cracked. But she was still breathing—barely. Her body seemed to resist the fate looming over it.
Zetsu emerged from the shadows at the back, his usual half-exposed face lit by the glow. "She's alive. Just barely. Perfect for extraction."
As the ritual began, the seals glowed and the nebulous silhouettes of the remaining Akatsuki members took form. Each one appeared as a projection cast from darkness, settling atop the massive fingers of the Gedo Statue like shadows on the altar of a forgotten god: Pain at the front, Konan behind him, Kisame, Deidara… and, to everyone's surprise, Kabuto—his presence replacing the familiar image of Sasori. His face was partially hidden beneath a hood, but his unmistakable grin betrayed him. Where Itachi should have stood, a new figure took his place: a hooded form clad in red, with eyes like burning coals—the Red Monk. His very presence subtly distorted the illusionary air around them.
The dark chant of the ritual filled the cave. Zetsu began reciting the verses. The spirit of the Nibi was forced out in a whirlwind of spectral energy that shook the walls of the underground sanctuary. Yugito convulsed. Hidan grinned, as if each spasm was a blessing from his macabre faith.
But when the final seal closed and the beast was absorbed into the Gedo Statue... Yugito didn't die.
Her body trembled, but she remained alive. And most strikingly—her pendant shone with a bluish-silver gleam.
"Huh...? What's that?" asked Zetsu, stepping closer. He examined the medallion. "This isn't a standard seal... I can't read its pattern."
The Red Monk stepped forward within the projection, his voice calm yet firm: "It's one of the amulets distributed by the so-called Iron Princess. A spiritual protection from Yumegakure... an accident... or perhaps an intervention."
Pain frowned. "Then she's not dead?"
"Not completely. But the Nibi is sealed."
The Red Monk nodded. "Then I suggest this: Kakuzu, Hidan, take her to the Fire Temple. I have loyal followers there who will receive you. I'll examine her myself... and you may claim one of the local bounties posted on the heads of their residents."
Kakuzu turned his head slightly, interest visibly piqued. An extra bounty was never a bad thing. And a Jinchūriki who survived... that was no longer a surprise to him—after Fū.
"Accepted."
Pain gave a nod, and the projections faded one by one, leaving them in the cavern with a living ex-Jinchūriki, a new mission, and a disturbing certainty: something was changing the rules of the game.
<<<< o >>>>
Toneri Ōtsutsuki stood in stillness, breath shallow, gaze steady upon the celestial chamber where it all began. He and his grandfather were the last two bearers of the true path—the only survivors of the ultimate sacrifice that had empowered the central Tenseigan. Their lives and eyes were pledged to the will of the great progenitor.
The world below had grown corrupted, its people insolent and blind to the celestial edicts. Cleansing them was not cruelty—it was restoration. That was the promise. Now, the army stood—living puppets possessed by the souls of those who gave everything for purity. Soon, they would purge the last remaining city of those who dared stain Hamura's will.
Or so he believed.
From that tainted city, a woman emerged.
Beautiful beyond comprehension, her presence defied gravity. Strange threads shimmered and vanished around her, guiding her every motion with incomprehensible elegance. She didn't move through space—she rewrote it. Toneri and his grandfather watched in silence, their eyes unable to track her logic-defying grace. She evaded every incoming strike before it was even launched.
And her eyes… not white like their kind. They were silver, radiant and vast, unfamiliar yet deeply unsettling. There was power in them that bent the rules Toneri had grown up revering. But even more dangerous than her strength was her voice. Sweet yet commanding. Divine.
She did not roar. She spoke. And with that voice she declared:
"...I have come to speak with my ancestor, Hamura Ōtsutsuki...."
The woman should have been torn apart on sight. But her words rang with conviction, and something in Toneri hesitated. His grandfather did not.
"How dare you speak his name!" the elder declared. "You blaspheme the honored dead! For such arrogance, you must die!"
The army surged—until the impossible happened. Her divine hand was raised.
Darkness fell. Not like the absence of light, but like the suffocation of existence. Toneri gasped as his vision with the Tenseigan was severed. Disconnected. Silent. His senses reeled.
But the moment passed. He reoriented quickly, trained reflexes anchoring his mind. She was now before him. Face to face.
Yet she brought no terror.
He looked to his grandfather and saw the impossible: a tremble in the elder's chest. Not of fear—of something worse. Doubt.
"How… this is impossible… Who—what are you?"
"I've told you my name," the woman said, "and my purpose. I will return control of your army. But if you try to strike me again, I will not just sever your power—I will destroy every puppet you've raised. Understood?"
Her words were not a threat. They were law.
In the next breath, their eyes glowed again—the Tenseigan's vision restored. She hovered above them in full clarity now. Divine.
Toneri sensed his grandfather was moments from ordering another attack, perhaps hoping to catch her off guard.
But she already knew.
And Toneri saw it.
Before he realized it, he acted.
"I forbid it," Toneri said.
His grandfather turned to him, eyes ablaze. "What are you doing, Toneri?!"
The woman answered before he could.
"The right thing. For once."
"I'm sorry, Grandfather," Toneri whispered. "But she can do what she says."
And then it happened—silver threads materialized and struck with surgical precision. Toneri recognized the points. Tenketsu.
The woman had struck the chakra points with accuracy only a Byakugan user could possess.
The elder fell silent and paralyzed.
She floated still. Serene.
"Young Toneri Ōtsutsuki," she said, "do you stand as the representative of your own faction—the last loyalists of the inner moon? Haru Ōtsutsuki, who stands for the city behind me, and Hiashi Hyūga of the world below. Together, we seek an audience with our common ancestor, Hamura."
Toneri could not speak. He only nodded.
He raised one hand and signaled the puppets to retreat. Others ran to attend the fallen grandfather.
He would help his grandfather understand. This woman… She was a truth they had never imagined.
<<<< o >>>>
Steam rose between the weathered rocks at the border between the Land of Hot Water and the Land of Fire. Natural springs bubbled quietly, unaware of the pain etched into the earth. Amid the misty landscape, three figures moved cautiously between scorched trees and the remnants of a recent battle.
Rugen, the jōnin—tall, elegant, with eyes as cold as obsidian blades—came to a sudden stop. His movements were as precise as they were swift. He wore his garments with austerity, his dark cloak fluttering in the wind, adorned with subtle silver threads that resembled stylized lightning. In his right hand, he held a blackened ring, etched with voltage runes, still warm to the touch.
He stared at it for a long time. The warmth it radiated... it was still there. "She's not dead," he murmured to himself, his voice barely a thread among the hiss of steam. "She's still... alive."
Daizen, the youngest of the group, pressed his hand against a cracked wall. His knuckles trembled. "Her teammates… they're all dead."
Beside him, Kasumi, a kunoichi with ash-gray braids and a sharp gaze, scanned the area. Thanks to her extraordinary tracking skills, they had followed the trail to a nearby cave. Once they forced their way inside, she said seriously, "These patterns on the rock... containment seals. And here… traces of chakra violently forced out of the body. This was a ritual."
Rugen nodded gravely, lowering his gaze. "Yugito came here with just one team. Even though she should have waited for us. It's what she always does. She believes her duty outweighs everything else."
The ring continued to radiate warmth against his palm. A family relic given in secret after they came to know one another during the war in Yumegakure. Two rings connected by an ancient sensory seal. A promise: if one of them fell, the other would know. But his had not gone cold. Not completely.
Kasumi looked at him—stern, yet understanding. "We need to return and report this. The Raikage must know."
"No." Rugen tucked the ring, tied by a cord, against his bare chest, close to his heart. "We're going to the Land of Fire."
"Are you serious?" Daizen asked. "Do you know what that means? Disobeying orders? Entering foreign territory?"
Rugen turned slowly. "We've worked with Konoha before, in Yumegakure. I don't think they'll turn a deaf ear to us. Besides… going back now would be abandoning her. That… I'm not willing to do it."
Kasumi took a deep breath, and after a few seconds, nodded. "Very well. We'll send a hawk to the Raikage with our report and new heading. He'll decide whether to approve… or to hunt us."
The team set off, their silhouettes fading into the mist. Rugen walked at the front, guided not by orders… but by a warm flame that still burned over his chest.
"Wait for me, Yugito," he thought. "I won't let your light go out."
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author's announcement.
I finished fixing the first arc 'Fallen', it turned out better or so I think, it's not up to the things I put together later, but I think it's an improvement, or the best I can do without doing the whole arc from 0... well, I had to edit the first chapters heavily, since Michel's monologue was exhausting; if anyone is interested, you can reread the first 10 chapters and tell me what you think.
Ultimately, since my attention is no longer divided, I'm going to try to put together one, two or three chapters a day until I finish the story. There's not much left. The good news is that when I finish you'll have 30 chapters at once.