A tide of icy despair swallowed Sayo's consciousness. He knelt beside Lucado's cooling body in the damp riverbed, the faint green glow of his Healing Technique washing uselessly over that twisted neck and lifeless face. It was a futile "Recovery Script" being run on a deleted file. Captain Iryō struggled to press two fingers to Lucado's carotid artery with his uninjured left hand, then let his arm fall, his eyes closing as every line of his face was etched with a profound sense of "System Helplessness." Shiori was already sobbing, her hands clamped over her mouth to prevent her "Voice" from drawing more Konoha patrols.
Death - the most common "Null Value" in a ninja's world, now stood before them in sudden, brutal reality.
Sayo had fought before; he had survived "Stress-Tests" that would have broken a thousand other Genin. He had outmaneuvered an Iwa Elite Jonin, engaged Sasori in a life-or-death fight, and only days ago escaped a four-man Uchiha "Interception Squad." He was accustomed to wounds, to the logic of killing, and to dancing on the jagged edge of Panic.
But this time, the Event was different.
Lucado's end hadn't come at the climax of a legendary duel or a grand strategic sacrifice. It was a "Chance Encounter", a random collision with the Ino-Shika-Chō "Tactical Combination" while the squad was already at low health. It was a moment's "Delay/Lag" while a teammate bled. It was an enemy's mercilessly efficient "Finishing Move." It was so swift, so "easy," almost casual in the way battlefield deaths are often executed. There was no blaze of glory, only a cold, permanent disconnect, showing how fragile and random a "User-Unit" could be.
For the first time, Sayo felt the proximity of the "Trash Bin." It wasn't just a comrade falling; it was an icy system warning: no matter your "Hardware Specs" or your "Natural Energy Throughput," death can come from any direction, at any millisecond, in any form. Today it was Lucado; tomorrow it might be Shiori, Captain Iryō… or himself. A chill rising from the depths of his soul made his 30-year-old soul, the mind of Logan, shudder.
"No time for mourning…" Captain Iryō's hoarse voice broke the atmospheric hush. Fighting the "Critical Pain" of his severed wrist and the grief of losing a core subordinate, he pushed himself upright with his left arm. "The acoustic spike from the fight will bring Konoha scouts within ten minutes. We must execute the 'Extraction Routine' now!"
His words ripped Sayo and Shiori from their sorrow. This was "Hostile Space"; grief was a luxury.
Sayo drew a sharp, mechanical breath, forcing the surge of emotion into a "Deep Archive" partition of his mind. His eyes hardened, shifting back into their analytical "Combat Mode." He pulled a blank storage scroll from his pouch, a high-density "Storage Partition" for physical matter.
"Sorry, Lucado… I'll carry your data home," he whispered, his hands moving through a sequence of seals with surgical precision.
He used a Sealing Technique to convert Lucado's physical form into a digital-ink representation on the scroll. It was a silent, solemn "Backup." They would not leave their comrade's body to the scavengers or the forest; they would bring him back to the Suna server for a final decommissioning.
When the scroll was stowed, its physical weight was negligible, but its "Emotional Weight" seemed to sink deep into Sayo's heart.
From that moment, the squad's operational mode changed. Their retreat had been frantic with desperation; now it was wrapped in a "Watchful Silence" and "Encrypted Grief."
The three moved in a tight, defensive formation, a "Low-Power Stealth formation." Though gravely hurt, Captain Iryō's experience remained; he gripped a kunai in his left hand, his sensory nodes straining to identify any incoming "Threats." Shiori dried her tears and poured all her sorrow into vigilance, scouting the flanks and rear, her chakra-perception stretched to its maximum.
Sayo bore the heaviest burden. Since the Mirage was wrecked and stowed in a separate partition, he had to move on foot. He swept the jungle with wide-band senses, his Magnet Release acting as a "Proximity Radar" that scanned for metallic fluctuations in the trees. Any rustle of a leaf caused his brain to run a thousand "Threat Simulations."
They avoided every shortcut, choosing the roughest, most "High-Resistance" paths. Their progress was slow crawl but their safety rating rose. Each halt was calculated to be in the most defensible coordinate, never lasting longer than five minutes to prevent a "Tracking Lock." They spoke only with glances and binary gestures.
Without Lucado's "Earth Release Shield," the team had a massive "Firewall Gap," yet the survivors fought with a focus and a will to live they had never shown before. It was as if Lucado's death had "Hardened" their internal code.
Like three lone wolves made warier by a "System Crash," they limped through the perilous forests of the Land of Fire on pure willpower and a fragile accord.
When the silhouette of Sunagakure's "Land of Rivers Forward Base" finally appeared on the horizon, and the Sandstorm Banner came into view, all three exhaled simultaneously. Their nerves eased a fraction.
They crossed the village's active "Firewall" into the base. There were no cheers, no "Mission Complete" notifications; the camp's bustling war-activity felt separated from them by an invisible, cold partition.
Sayo silently handed the scroll bearing Lucado to the head of the Medical Logistics Squad. It was a clinical "Handoff." Captain Iryō was rushed to the "Critical-Care" for immediate vascular surgery. Shiori was sent to the "Rest and Recovery Directory" to receive psychological debugging for the Uchiha Genjutsu.
Alone amid the throng of busy ninjas, Sayo watched the weary, wounded Suna soldiers come and go. For the first time, he clearly saw the "Great War Beast" devouring everything. In this massive, entropic torrent, what could he change? What could he protect with his current "Build"?
Lucado's cold body and empty eyes were now a permanent "Background Process" in Sayo's mind. He looked at his hands, the hands of an engineer. They were steady, but they were still limited by the "Reaction Time" of his human brain.
"Iryō lost his hand. Lucado lost his life. Shiori almost lost her mind," Sayo whispered, his eyes narrowing as he looked toward the command tent where the high-spec Jonin were gathered.
"The 'Mirage Protocol' isn't enough," Logan thought, his 30-year-old soul reaching a cold, clinical conclusion. "As long as I am a 'User' giving commands to a 'Puppet' via chakra threads, I am limited by the speed of sound and the latency of my own nerves. To fight an Uchiha... to fight a Kage... I must become the machine."
He turned back toward his private workshop tent, ignoring the "Exhaustion Warning" flashing in his mind. He had the "Sandaime-grade" Iron Sand. He had the Natural Energy Core. And now, he had the motivation of a "Vengeance" that would never stop running.
The next version of the Mirage wouldn't be a vehicle. It would be an "Integrated Shell." He would initialize the Direct Neural Interface (DNI) research tonight. If the world was a meat-grinder, he would become the blade that broke the gears.
"Lucado," he thought, looking at the setting sun. "I'll upgrade the world for you. I'll make sure no one else has to run through this grief'."
The "Sandstorm Squad" was gone. But something much more dangerous, the Mirage Pilot had just been initialized.