The silence between them stretched as the young jōnin—Makoto—lowered his head, rain dripping from his soaked hair. Akari's expression was unreadable, but his chakra pulsed faintly, calm and watchful.
"They call themselves The Veil," Makoto finally said. "A shadow faction… loyal to no clan, no village. Only to what they claim is balance. They approached me months ago. At first, they just wanted information—movements, old ruins. Then… your name."
Akari didn't move. "Why you?"
"Because I was one of her students," Makoto said quietly. "Because I felt… abandoned when she vanished."
Akari's jaw tightened.
"They said the scrolls she left behind could unlock a deeper path. That Konoha would never dare use it, but others might. That it was meant for a new world."
"And you believed them?" Akari asked, voice sharp.
Makoto met his gaze. "I wanted to believe her death meant something. That I wasn't left behind for nothing."
Akari stepped forward. "She died protecting a secret she couldn't let fall into their hands. That alone should've told you everything."
Makoto's voice cracked. "I know that now."
The air between them buzzed with tension, but Akari closed his eyes for a moment—then opened them, the violet in his irises glowing faintly.
"You're going to help me fix this."
Makoto blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You're going to feed them what I tell you. Controlled information. We'll lead them into the dark—and burn them from the inside."
---
Meanwhile, far beneath the Hokage Tower, in a chamber only a few knew existed, Tobirama Senju stared at a wall of coded documents. Each parchment bore patterns of chakra ink, slowly fading with age and pressure.
He turned to the elder shinobi standing silently nearby.
"You confirmed it?" Tobirama asked.
"Yes, Lord Second. The masked woman appeared again—outside the borders. Her trail ends near the southern ruins."
Tobirama's eyes narrowed. "The same ruins Akari visited."
The elder gave a short nod. "And the same signature we found in the valley. It's growing."
Tobirama turned away, his expression hard. "Then we don't have the luxury of waiting."
---
In the Uchiha district, moonlight spilled across empty rooftops. Akari sat beneath the old camphor tree in his courtyard, eyes lifted toward the sky. Raien approached with his usual silence.
"You look like a man with too many weights on his shoulders," Raien said.
"Because I am," Akari replied.
Raien leaned against the tree. "Makoto's betrayal hit you harder than you admit."
Akari's voice was quiet. "He was a child when she taught us. Same as me. We all wanted to believe she'd return."
Raien looked at him. "You think she's gone for good?"
There was a long pause. Then, for the first time in weeks, Akari let something raw escape into his voice.
"I don't know anymore."
Raien didn't press. "Whatever the truth is… we face it together. You and me."
Akari finally looked at him. "And if I fall too far into this? If the scroll changes me?"
Raien held his gaze. "Then I drag you out. Or fall with you."
A faint smile, just for a second. "Not much of a rescue plan."
"Best I've got."
---
Far away, in a cavern veiled in smoke and old blood seals, the woman in the porcelain mask stood before a glowing pool. Chakra symbols danced along the water's surface—familiar and foreign at once.
"He begins to understand," she murmured.
A voice echoed from the shadows. "Then we're running out of time."
"No," she said. "He must open the gate willingly. That's the only way we reclaim what was once ours."
"And if he doesn't?"
Her eyes glinted beneath the mask. "Then we remind him who taught him to unlock doors."
---
The final scene fades to Akari at his desk, brush in hand. On the scroll before him, he's drawn a strange spiral—different from anything recorded in the Uchiha archives.
It pulses faintly.
He touches the ink.
And in the moment of contact, a memory flashes—his mother, standing in firelight, whispering a word that doesn't exist in any known language.
His eyes widen.
"Raien…" he calls, voice steady but urgent. "We just found something we weren't meant to see."