The scroll was old. Older than the village.
Akari unrolled it carefully, each line of text shimmering faintly with a chakra seal. Raien watched over his shoulder, arms crossed, eyes tense.
They were back in Konoha, hidden within the Archives. Not the public ones—these were Tobirama's personal vaults, protected by jutsu so ancient even most Uchiha didn't know them.
Akari tapped a line of faded script.
> "This symbol... matches the one under the Fourth Shrine."
Raien leaned closer. "But that would mean the Fifth Shrine isn't just nearby—it was part of the founding."
Akari didn't answer. His thoughts swirled too fast.
If his mother had known this… if the cult knew…
Then Konoha itself wasn't a shelter.
It was the lock.
---
Outside, storm clouds brewed.
Inside the Hokage Tower, Tobirama sat with hands steepled before him. Two ANBU stood nearby, one of them reporting with urgency.
> "Multiple tremors beneath Sector 6. No natural cause."
> "And the boy?" Tobirama asked.
> "Akari is already investigating."
The Second Hokage's jaw tightened. "Too fast. They're pushing him."
Danzo, standing in the corner, interjected, "Let him be pushed. Fire refines steel."
Tobirama shot him a cold glance. "And it also consumes it."
---
Beneath Sector 6, deep in the abandoned catacombs of Konoha's foundation, Akari moved silently.
The air here smelled of old chakra—dusty, metallic, and unnatural.
Raien followed close, holding a small lantern infused with sensing seals.
"Your fire... that thing you did at the shrine," he said, voice low, "it wasn't just chakra, was it?"
Akari didn't answer at first. He paused before a sealed door, pressing his palm against the surface. It was warm.
> "It's not fire," he said finally.
"It's memory."
---
The door groaned open.
Inside was not a shrine.
It was a chamber.
Walls lined with tablets. Names etched in fire-script. Dozens. Hundreds.
At the center stood a statue—a woman cloaked in feathers and chains, arms outstretched as if holding the ceiling aloft.
Raien whispered, "That's…"
"My mother," Akari finished.
---
Suddenly, light flared.
Symbols lit up around the chamber, circling them like fireflies. Akari didn't flinch. The mask at his side pulsed.
From the shadows, a voice spoke.
"You were never meant to find this place."
A figure stepped out. Another masked cultist. But this one was different.
She was young. A girl—no older than Akari.
Her chakra was sharp, cold, like winter wind over steel.
> "You should've stayed in the dark, Akari."
He stepped forward, eyes glowing faintly violet. "I'm done hiding."
The girl raised her hand. Dozens of kunai, wrapped in paper bombs, launched from the chamber's walls.
But Akari was already moving.
---
Flames burst around him—controlled, elegant, alive.
Each kunai redirected in midair, suspended by thin threads of fire. They hovered like a halo before exploding outward—harmlessly—redirected through chakra flow.
The girl's eyes widened.
"You control it...?"
Akari didn't smile.
"I understand it."
---
Their clash was fast, a dance between light and shadow. She fought with ice-based jutsu—razor-sharp mirrors and slicing winds. But Akari adapted quickly. Each attack she used, he absorbed into his own rhythm.
Raien tried to intervene, but the battle was already beyond him.
This wasn't training.
This was destiny.
---
In the end, Akari didn't strike her down.
He simply stood still—and burned her jutsu away, letting his fire strip the cold from the chamber.
The girl collapsed, gasping.
"You don't... even know what you are…"
Akari knelt beside her. "Then tell me."
She looked up, eyes fearful.
"You're not a vessel," she whispered. "You're the lock. If you open fully—nothing will stop what's waiting."
---
Back above ground, Tobirama looked toward the mountain.
Storms gathered.
The fire had spread beneath the stone.
And soon, even the walls of Konoha wouldn't be enough.
---
To be continued...