Itachi stood on the foreign red soil of Xandara, his cloak fluttering softly in the light breeze. The planet was bursting with colors and sounds; flying ships zoomed overhead, market stalls buzzed with alien chatter, and creatures of every shape and size moved in organized chaos.
He took a slow step forward, surveying the environment. A large purple-skinned merchant shouted prices at a crowd of tentacled beings. A droid zipped by, bumping into Itachi's leg and apologizing in five different languages. He blinked.
This was not Konoha. This wasn't even Earth.
As he moved through the crowd, passersby gave him curious looks. His clothes, his silence, his eyes—everything about him screamed "stranger."
A group of young aliens laughed as one pointed at Itachi's Sharingan. "Nice holo-eyes, mister! Where can I get a pair?"
Ignoring them, he kept walking.
Suddenly, a security drone hovered down in front of him. "Identification, traveler."
Itachi remained still.
"Failure to comply will result in—"
The drone suddenly shut off and fell to the ground as Itachi gently tapped its surface with chakra. A nearby child clapped and cheered. "Whoa! He did space magic!"
A nearby street performer took notice and approached Itachi. "Hey, ninja guy! Want to join my act? I do juggling, you do spooky eye tricks. We split the credits 60-40."
He turned and walked away without a word.
In one corner of the plaza, a group of armored enforcers from the Nova Corps spotted him. "That guy matches no registered identity. We might have a problem."
Itachi sensed the rising tension and disappeared in a silent puff of crows, reappearing behind a food stand. The alien cook turned in surprise and dropped a bowl of glowing noodles.
"Oh no! Not again!" the cook wailed. "That's the third mysterious cloaked man today!"
From a rooftop, Itachi observed the planet's main tower. He needed information. This world was beyond anything he had encountered. If Thanos was still near, he needed to find his trace. But for now, blending in was impossible.
A floating billboard suddenly caught his eye. It displayed a message:
"COLLECTOR'S EMPORIUM - Rare Artifacts, Ancient Powers, and Galactic Oddities!"
Itachi stared.
Maybe this "Collector" knew something.
As he prepared to move, another alien—short, green-skinned, and full of attitude—bumped into him.
"Watch it, emo cloak boy," the alien muttered.
Itachi slowly turned to face him. The alien looked up, eyes meeting the Sharingan.
"Uh... I mean, nice cloak, sir. Carry on."
He vanished in a blur.
As the sun of Xandara began to set, casting golden hues across the sky, Itachi moved silently between alleys and rooftops. He still had questions. But now, he also had a direction.
Next stop: The Collector.