The atmosphere of the Land of Rivers' forward camp was a stagnant slurry of mud, blood, and the sharp, chemical tang of medicinal herbs. For the Sandstorm Squad, the "Active Combat Phase" was over; what remained was a messy, localized "Aftermath" that felt like a system struggling to clear its cache after a catastrophic crash.
Captain Iryō lay on a narrow sickbed in the high-priority medical tent, his right wrist wrapped in layers of thick, sterile bandages. His face was the color of ash, his breathing a low-frequency rattle. The final verdict from the army's senior surgeons matched Sayo's initial "Forensic Audit": the chakra coils in his right hand were destroyed beyond any hope of recovery. The delicate meridian-cables had been shredded by the Uchiha's high-density chakra injection. Even after the physical lacerations healed, the "Hardware Interface" for forming hand-seals was permanently disabled. The veteran Special Jonin's career had hit its "End-of-Life" (EOL) before those merciless Sharingan eyes. A forced retirement, a decommissioning of a top-tier asset awaited him the moment he returned to the village.
Lucado's name, meanwhile, had already been moved to the "Permanent Archive" of the fallen. The taciturn Earth Release specialist, who had served as the squad's "Primary Firewall," would remain forever as unrecoverable data in the forests of the Land of Fire.
The Sandstorm Squad existed in name only. It was a "Ghost Process" running on a shattered kernel.
Bandages still swathed Shiori's body, but the deeper "Corrupt Sectors" were in her mind. She had fallen into a state of "Silent Stagnation," her eyes often carrying the dazed, post-terror blankness of someone whose sensory OS had been overloaded. The clash with the Uchiha, watching Lucado die in a single frame had reformatted her worldview. She watched the busy medical ninjas and the groaning wounded with a detached, analytical intensity, then looked down at her own trembling, bandaged hands.
During a brief lull in Sayo's "Biological Repair" duties, she found him changing the dressings for a patient with deep shrapnel wounds.
"Sayo…" Her voice was a hoarse whisper, yet it carried a steadiness that suggested a "Firmware Update" had occurred overnight. "I… I don't want to just be a 'Watcher' anymore. I don't want to be the 'Passive Variable' that is powerless."
Sayo paused, his hands still glowing with the soft green light of the Healing Technique. He looked at the teammate who had once been the lively, energetic "Social Interface" of the squad.
Shiori drew a deep, jagged breath. "I want to learn Medical Ninjutsu. I want to be like you, at least… at least to have the power to save my comrades when it matters, instead of being the one protected, or… a 'Burden'." The last words came out as a quiet, self-blaming murmur.
Sayo studied her. His 30-year-old soul, the mind of Logan the engineer, saw the logic in her request. "Redundancy" was a fundamental principle of survival. If Shiori could handle "Tier-1 Repair Scripts," the squad's overall strength would increase significantly.
"All right," he said, his tone clinical yet supportive. "We initialize the training immediately. We start with the basic Healing Technique. You need to control your chakra output and feel the resonance of the target's life energy. It's a tough task, it requires patience and pinpoint 'Bit-Control' over your energy flow."
From that day, Shiori became Sayo's apprentice. In the rare intervals between hospital rotations, he taught her the "Code" of human anatomy, explaining the body's meridians as if they were circuit paths on a motherboard. She studied with a fierce, desperate hunger, turning her grief into "Processing Power." The eyes that had been scattered by Uchiha-terror now burned with the focus of a "Targeting Array."
Then, an official "Command Packet" arrived from Elder Chiyo's aide. Casualties on the Land of Rivers front were hitting "Overload" levels, and medical resources were stretched to their "Thermal Limit." A number of badly wounded and permanently disabled ninjas, "Decommissioned Units" had to be escorted back to Sunagakure for long-term maintenance.
"Chunin Sayo!" the courier said, his voice grim. "You are appointed as the 'Root Administrator' for the Escort Squad. Lead the wounded and the security guards safely back to the Village. Here is the 'Route Metadata' and the personnel roster."
Sayo unrolled the scroll; Captain Iryō's name topped the "Wounded" directory.
Without hesitation, he snapped to attention. "Protocol accepted. Initializing transport."
Soon, a column set out: five lightly injured Chunin as guards, Sayo as the Captain, and more than ten stretcher-bound patients, including Iryō left the noisy forward camp for the long, low-speed trek back to the Land of Wind.
The pace was painfully slow. The litters had to be handled with "High-Precision" care to prevent further death. As the captain, Sayo planned the route, posted "Perimeter Sentries," and used his Healing Technique whenever a patient's status-bar dropped into the red. Shiori volunteered as a "Medical Orderly," practically applying her new "Repair Scripts" under Sayo's supervision.
The journey was far from a "Safe Mode" transit. Small Iwa reconnaissance squads and Konoha raiding parties constantly struck at their supply line.
Yet Sayo was no longer the "Legacy Build" Genin of the Academy. His life-and-death struggle with Sasori, his encounter with the Uchiha and his vengeance-combat against the Ino-Shika-Chō combination had "Hardened" his code. He was operating at a "Jonin-Level" throughput.
When an Iwa squad attempted an ambush in a narrow gorge, Sayo coolly ordered the guards into a "Defensive Matrix." He utilized the Mirage for rapid redeployment and fire support. Although the platform was only at "60% Functional Integrity", its Mag-Lev field humming with a slight jitter and its armor cracked, it was still a "Zero-Day Exploit" against ordinary ninjas.
Sayo wielded his Magnet Release as both a "Firewall" and a "Lethal Script." Iron Sand rose into solid, geometric walls to block distant Ninjutsu, then lashed out like "High-Speed Data Whips" to snare close-range attackers. When an Iwa Chunin tried to breach the perimeter, Sayo initialized a "Storm Routine," raining iron sand in a kinetic torrent that smashed the enemy's formation in seconds.
Each skirmish was neutralized with a steady command and an overpowering personal "Force Output." His battlefield poise marked him as a "Elite Jonin" in all but name. The other escorts looked at the eleven-year-old with a respect bordering on "System Awe."
Lying on his litter, Iryō watched Sayo's busy, resolute back. His gaze was a complex mix of pride, regret, and a realization that the "Software Version" of the boy he once protected had surpassed his own. Sayo was now strong enough to protect the "Hardware" of the entire village.
As the caravan moved slowly through the yellow dust of the border, Sayo's mind was already running a "Background Process." He was looking at the tired, wounded men around him and thinking of the "Energy Constraints" of the war.
The Escort is too slow. The recovery time is too high, Logan thought, his engineer's soul analyzing the "Bottleneck."
He pulled out a small scroll, sketching the latest "Miniaturization Logic" for his Chrono-Furnace. If he could provide these wounded men with a wearable "External Battery", a device that purified their fatigue and stabilized their chakra in real-time, the village's power would increase by 300%.
The "Mirage Protocol" was evolving. It was no longer just about a flying platform; it was about "Human Optimization."
The caravan moved through the desert, carrying the "Wounds of the Past," yet also the "Logic of the Future." Sayo looked toward the distant skyline of Sunagakure, his dark eyes reflecting the cold light of the setting sun.
"Home," he whispered, his hand resting on the "Sandaime-grade" Iron Sand at his hip. "It's time for the 'V.2.0' Compile."