Snow crunched under Akari's sandals as he stepped into the ruined shrine's shadow. The fourth gate. Far from Konoha, nestled between frostbitten cliffs, guarded not by walls but silence.
The air was thinner here. Bitter.
Beside him, Raien muttered, "Place feels like it's watching."
Akari didn't respond. He already knew it was.
Inside, the architecture shifted—stone archways burned with seal script, and frost covered every surface like a curse. At the center stood a towering obelisk, half-buried in ice. But what drew his eyes wasn't the structure.
It was the man.
A figure stood before the obelisk. Cloaked in deep crimson and onyx, his mask cracked down the middle like glass over flame. His voice came low and steady.
> "You're late, Shadowborn."
Akari's hands twitched, but he didn't draw his blade. "You know who I am?"
The man's reply was simple. "I knew who your mother was."
---
Raien stepped forward, kunai drawn. "Another priest?"
The figure chuckled, stepping into full view.
"No," he said. "I was her blade."
---
Memories flooded Akari's mind—his mother in whispered conversation with a masked silhouette on rainy nights, quiet arguments just beyond earshot. This man had been there. Before everything burned.
The cultist pulled down his hood. His hair was silver-white, face marked by old fire scars. One eye had turned completely black.
> "She was our flame. We were the ash she left behind."
Akari's voice was ice. "Then why did you try to kill her?"
"Because she chose you."
---
With that, the obelisk pulsed.
The room shifted.
Walls melted into flame and snow. Symbols rose from the ground, glowing and circling like orbiting stars.
Akari flared into action.
Fire surged from his limbs, violet-white and roaring. The cultist met him halfway—no jutsu, just pure movement, striking with inhuman speed. Their clash echoed through the shrine like thunder in a canyon.
Blades met fists. Fire met shadow.
Raien joined the fray, but the cultist moved like he knew their every step. He had trained under the same fire Akari now wielded.
> "You don't understand what she gave you," he hissed between strikes.
"You were her hope. Her fear. Her chain breaker."
Akari slammed him into the obelisk with a burst of chakra, stone cracking. "She gave me a choice."
The cultist looked up, bleeding but smiling.
> "Then make it."
---
Akari's seal glowed, brighter than ever. The mask at his waist vibrated with pressure.
And then—he hesitated.
The cultist's hand rose, fingertips glowing with a final sigil. A self-destruct jutsu.
> "If you won't claim your birthright… I'll bury it with us both."
Akari didn't think.
He placed his hand on the mask—and for the first time, fully embraced it.
---
Energy exploded outward.
Flames circled the room, weaving into chains of violet fire that wrapped around the obelisk and the cultist, sealing the jutsu in mid-air.
The man gasped—not from pain, but recognition.
> "She taught you that...?"
"No," Akari said calmly. "It came with the blood."
The cultist slumped forward, unconscious.
Akari released the fire. Let it fade. His breathing slowed.
Raien leaned against a pillar, panting. "You're not the same as before."
"No," Akari replied. "I'm not."
---
Later, as they prepared to leave, Akari glanced back at the shrine.
"I saw something," he murmured.
Raien raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"In the flame. A fifth shrine."
Raien cursed under his breath. "Of course there's another one."
Akari nodded.
> "But this one isn't hidden. It's buried beneath Konoha."
---
Meanwhile, in the village, Tobirama stood atop the Hokage monument, gazing over the village he'd built on trust and blood. Danzo emerged from behind him, face grim.
"We have a problem," he said. "The cult… they're moving underground. Beneath us."
Tobirama's eyes narrowed. "Then the real war hasn't started."
---
To be continued...