By the time Raizen finally stopped moving, he was in a small border town—a nowhere place clinging to the edge of the world.
His legs hurt, his chakra stung, and frankly, he needed a drink.
So he ducked into a tavern.
Mud on the floor. Cheap sake. A few traveling shinobi hunched over their bowls.
Their forehead protectors caught his eye—three vertical bars carved into the metal.
"Yunō-nin."
A minor village copying Konoha's style, just like half the continent since Raizen and the others created the first real shinobi village.
Great. I reinvent the military-industrial complex, and now I can't even get a quiet drink.
He sipped silently.
The ninjas beside him started gossiping—loudly.
"Hey, you hear the news?"
"What news?"
"Konoha's First Hokage is hunting Tailed Beasts. Stirred up hell in the Land of Lightning. Almost snatched Eight Tails right out of Cloud's hands."
"You're kidding. Even their leader got smacked around?"
"Heard he got taught a hard lesson."
"Serves the Thunder Clan right. Always walking around like their lightning armor makes them gods."
"Haha, yeah. Shame he didn't catch Eight Tails though."
"No, Eight Tails ran! Now both Hokage and Cloud's leader are chasing it."
"So another fight's coming?"
"Probably. And once everyone else hears? Oh, they'll meddle."
"Good show incoming."
Raizen sighed into his cup.
"Fantastic. I start one little war and suddenly the whole world wants a front-row seat."
He paid, stood, and headed out—only for one of the Yunō-nin to freeze mid-drink.
The ninja stared at him, eyes wide.
Then he blinked hard and shook his head.
"…no way."
His friend frowned. "San-kawa, what's wrong?"
"Where did Eight Tails go?"
"Heard it passed the Land of Frost already. Might even be in our province."
San-kawa's entire body jerked.
He grabbed his teammates—
"We're leaving! Immediately!"
They ran like their lives depended on it.
Raizen, who didn't notice a thing, kept walking.
Tracking a panicked mountain-sized octopus
Once Eight Tails left the Land of Frost, it started taking its escape seriously.
Fewer footprints.
Less chakra residue.
More destroyed terrain smoothed over or crushed beneath giant blows of its tentacles.
A normal shinobi would've lost the trail hours ago.
But Raizen wasn't normal.
He followed the faint leftovers—chakra pressure, lingering static, broken trees—and eventually reached a small mountain village.
The place was quiet. Too quiet.
The villagers stared at him like he was a ghost wandering into their forgotten world.
An old man finally approached.
"Stranger… may I ask your business here?"
"I'm just a traveler," Raizen lied with all the conviction of a burned-out office worker forging sick notes. "Looking for news. Anything strange happen lately?"
The old man squinted, clearly not buying it, but answered anyway:
"Nothing unusual. Our village has been peaceful."
Raizen exhaled softly.
Eight Tails is covering its tracks now…
And anyone who saw it probably didn't walk away.
Wonderful.
He stood.
"Thank you. I'll be on my way."
The old man tried to invite him to rest—Raizen refused.
But before he left, the elder offered one last warning.
"Traveler… do not enter the valley east of here. It is cursed. All who go there die."
Raizen paused.
"Noted."
He headed straight for it.
The Valley of Blood
The valley was desolate.
Windless.
Dead trees leaning against each other like corpses.
The river running through it was tinted red—not dreaming, not metaphorical.
Actual blood.
Raizen stepped forward—
And froze.
Someone was watching him.
He lifted his head.
A pair of scarlet eyes glowed from the shadows.
The moment their gazes met, something slammed into his mind—
A spear of mental force, sharp enough to twist space.
The world dissolved.
A red moon rose overhead.
A cross stood in the center of a blood-colored world.
A young man was bound to it—eyes wide with horror.
Illusions. Torture. Layered images stabbing through the mind like needles.
Raizen's Rinnegan flared.
The world shattered.
He exhaled sharply.
"…Tsukuyomi?"
Those eyes…
He had seen them somewhere before.
A memory tugged at him, just out of reach.
Before he could grasp it—
shff! shff! shff!
Figures dropped from the cliffs, surrounding him.
Tattered cloaks.
Old bloodstains.
Eyes burning with the same crimson light.
Their leader stepped forward, kunai raised—
And Raizen finally understood.
"Uchiha."