The Graveyard. [naga]

[Naitome]

Noon. The sun like an atrophied limb withering in stagnant overcast clouds. Crashing water and the tiny creeping sounds of life edging inwards from the coast. It seems to Akuharu as if the background noise of the world has been turned up, and his head hurts just as his temper is calmed by the absence of other people. He is far away from the arena he last remembers, his headband given back and securely tucked within his belongings, his eyes groggy while the sliver of silver mesh that covers his mouth has been torn away, and the horror beneath free to be seen by others. Without his mask, it is difficult to see him as anything other than a monster, and he prefers to be spared the gawking study of each random onlooker passing him on his journey. His journey, however, has no end-point, no purpose. He reties the mask slowly, checking his equipment, then suddenly dropping his hands to his sides, and staring towards the horizon.

He is still in Mizu No Kuni. He can feel it. Somewhere ancient, down a dark path, and his heart feels colder for it.

He drifts like so much flotsam carried towards the Firewater Straits, a patch of starved river eventually emptying into a man-made gulf miles and miles away from true civilization. He travels closer to it now, ignorant, as it softens the earth beneath his feet and slows him without obvious reason. Ahead of him, the fading old road he's followed soon narrows into open grassland, and now he does not even have another man's path to follow. Left to his own devices, he does not panic, but he is increasingly uncomfortable as he veers through harsh clutches of moist fauna fanned into bizarre shapes, shaking in the warmth and the mist.

His steps are haunted and drawn out; he lurches from one gruff arc of gravel to the next, head down, heightened senses dulled from a lack of use. He is restless and unimpressed by the yards and yards of land separating him from everything else within the world. It takes a long time for him to find something familiar, and when he does, he walks towards it slowly, as if distrustful. At first, he assumes he's walked in a large circle, but this is only the repetition of architectural sub-types that often make larger cities seem like a solidified unit even when they are not.

It is a graveyard. Covered in tiny hand-made shrines and dozens of meters wide, where a few random men and women walk, discussing memories long faded with time. As a couple shuffles quietly past, taking their place near a worn down headstone marked with a name the Kirigakure shinobi could not pronounce if he tried, he hears them say They were great parents, I'll miss them.

Akuharu sits, defeated, his back against a tall tree, and tries to remember if he has anyone to miss.

[marvolous.]

Mizu no Kuni - it never changes. How long had it been since I was here last? Months? Years? Unlike Hi no Kuni, I actually somewhat enjoyed visiting this country. It was quiet, barren - in a sense, of course -, and cool; a stark contrast to the living condition of Sunagakure. Most importantly, however, it allowed to me to transcend the lands with much less anxiety, for the thick nature of the mist that clung to the land did well for obscuring most vision.

It was so thick, in fact, that had it not been for years of surveillance in far worse conditions, travel through the vapor would have been rendered nearly impossible. It was still done, though; easily, might I add, for my eyes beckoned forth a state of crimson vision as assistance. It was through this aid, the increased chakra circulation to my eyes that brought about my Sharingan, that I gazed through the world in color. Animals, insects, even seemingly inanimate objects such as trees all had a specific hue to them, allowing me to tell them apart with ease. Humans, too - they were the easiest to notice.

At first I saw no one, not even a feint trace of life within the heart of Mizu no kuni. But I kept moving, allowing my footsteps to forge a path away from the main route to Kirigakure. Eventually, as I delved further and further into the country, I found a path recently traveled. The mud was fresh on the path, leaving a trail of footsteps within it's surface. I followed the footsteps even further, only ceasing my descent at the sight of a graveyard. It wasn't the graveyard that stopped me, no - it was the man laying there watching it. I had a hunch, but needed to test it.

"Death is part of life." I cooed from above. If he turned and looked, he would see me perched high above, sitting on a branch from the same tree - Sharingan deactivated. "If you welcome it, like you seem to be doing, it'll consume you. And then, well..."

I leaped from my position, landing directly in front of him in a crouch with a hollow 'thump'. My face was obscured with a porcelain mask, but my eyes gazed at him through it's slits.

"You'll actually die."

[Naitome]

"Death is part of life. If you welcome it, like you seem to be doing, it'll consume you. And then, well..."

A voice. The slightest pause before a sound like a steel anchor hitting brick and suddenly, a figure crouched before him, its face concealed, tiny slits in an unknown material revealing eyes more dark gray than black, tinged with bemused self-contentment.

"You'll actually die."

Akuharu's head was down, his gaze cast at his own feet, but he slowly looked up as some small part of his thoughts registered the voice speaking to him. Painstakingly slow, as if his head were the heaviest in all the world, he would meet the gaze of the stranger, and his eyes, almost against their own will, would begin to change. It was not the rapid-fire switch necessary for combat, but more an exhibition, a spiraling that made it appear as if a patient hand was stirring his black pupils into the crimson red of his Sharingan, the tomoe flaring just as slowly, then fading back into black as he looked down once more. For the briefest of seconds, the calm and practiced demeanor he always wore broke, and Akuharu's face was nothing but a contorted mask of animal fury and hatred, as if a hundred years of pain could be expressed in the blink of an eye, but it faded as swiftly as it had appeared, like a dream, and his expression immediately after seemed almost apologetic, confused. He sighed heavily, almost irritated, before speaking out with a subtle softness partially obscured by the mask he wore.

I am sorry, sir. I do not wish to be rude to you, but I am in an ill-mood to accept advice, even if it is given with the most sincere of intentions. If you do not wish to be in the company of those consumed by death...

...perhaps a graveyard was a poor choice of travel.

And Akuharu's head would bow once more, a simple nod, as another couple passed close by, gawking at the strange man who'd so suddenly dropped from a tree before them. They pointed and grabbed their tiny child close, who'd begun to cry and mutter g-g-g-g-ghost between sobs. Several of the nearby attendants, sifting through broken plots of dirt or piecing together the days chores for their own subordinates with shovels in hand, had also taken notice of the man's strange antics, but appeared amused, watching from a distance, and chuckling among themselves.

[marvolous.]

Truthfully, I had expected quite a different scenario. With my steady plunge from above, I had thought for sure that the youth would have reacted with... some form of life. But no, even with my presence right in front of him, preventing him from moving, he did not budge in the slightest. It was strange, but considering our location, I did not question it. Instead, I continued to gaze at him, unmoved by his sudden transformation. I had almost hoped my hunch had been wrong.

"Don't confuse my words" I cut through his speech, my voice low and seeping from my lips like a slither. "I wasn't giving you any advice, I was merely just--" A pause. My hand rose into the air, each of my digits lightly tracing the air around the youth's countenance before latching onto his throat like a vice grip. "Giving you a fair forewarning of your path, child."

I could hear the people behind me, but I did not care for their existence. They served no purpose for me, and thus was ignored. My attention, however, remained fixated on the young Uchiha. Given his position against the tree, all it took was a fraction of my strength to keep him completely pinned. I was completely aware of his arms, too - using them to help him escape my grasp would only end with them being pinned.

"You're a fool for showing me your Sharingan." I stood from my crouch, simulataneously releasing my hold on his throat. "Out of respect I will let you fight your last battle. However, when you fall - and you will - I will be taking your eyes as a prize."

I turned and walked back towards the graveyard, allowing the child, should he take the invitation, a clear path to victory. Would he bite?

[Naitome]

"Don't confuse my words..."

The man said, cutting him off, Akuharu's head still turned downwards, a flare of chakra burst through the unseen tenketsu of his eyes, changing them yet again.

"I wasn't giving you any advice, I was merely just---"

Another pause, and Akuharu's gaze drifted upwards in time to catch the motion of the man's hand, aggressive in it's intent and seeming to trace the air around him before it shot out, whatever words he'd said lost as Akuharu saw his throat grasped, his body pressed against the tree, held in a clawed vice-grip of force that pinned him down and then unraveled, wavering in its exactitude, rewinding its movement through space and returning to the point of that initial break in speech, prepared to act, the single tomoe within his eyes spinning and revealing the next few seconds.

The hand shot out, but Akuharu's hands had been in motion the instant the man's grasping limb wavered, a rush of spiritual and physical energy colliding within to arrive at concurrent points, right palm at the man's wrist, left hand at the largest part of his outstretched palm, his rushing limbs releasing a pressurized burst of air in opposing directions, as if clapping. Even in it's infantile stage, Akuharu's sharingan was sufficient to fully detail the mundane movement, and if they struck true, they would break the strangers hand from the force of the conflicting blows.

As his chakra pushed out at the limb, his left foot, now centered perfectly between the man's crouched stance, would push him back against the tree where he leaned, allowing the hilts of both Akurojin-no-hi and Nameless to dig into the dense wood, assisting his body upwards slightly, the palm strikes becoming their own grip that would seek to force his torso upwards, kicking off to twist out of the man's presence as his right foot gained the proper position. The instant both feet were on the ground, a Shunshin would carry Akuharu forward, through the gap present between the nearby onlookers staring in shock at movements they could barely comprehend, coming to a stop ten meters away, his right hand pulling Nameless from it's sheathe.

His eyes would remain focused throughout the rush of activity, ready to react and adapt to any opposing force the stranger might provide.

SPOILER: Click to show

Sharingan [Ichi]: Activated
Shougekishou, B Rank x 2
Shunshin 1/16

[marvolous.]

It was about time.

Being in such close proximity, I was aware of everything the young Uchiha was doing. From the breaths he was taking, the gap of time between each breath, to even his eyes once again transforming - nothing escaped my vision. His arms, too, were no exception.

I could have easily withdrawn my own appendage when I realized his intent, but I didn't; it remained there, dangling in the air as it fell victim to whatever technique the child has mustered. I did not even bother moving as he made his own escape; I just watched - analyzing each of his movements.

"Showing some life before dying..." I spun on the heel of my foot, bringing me to face his moving form as he flickered away. "Interesting." By the time I stood from my crouch the youth had settled ten meters away from me, having already taken it upon himself to unsheathe his weapon.

I took that moment to withdraw my own from it's holster on my back, the same hand he had attempted to attack gripping it's handle as it was brought in front of me. Whilst the armor that shielded most of the bone of my wrist was shattered, my hand was relatively unscathed.

Still, I continued to watch him apprehensively. I couldn't afford to underestimate the power of his Sharingan.

---

- ANBU Armor - Broken.

[Naitome]

Crack. His hands collided with the man's arm in perfect timing, though the knockback effect normally presented with the maneuver would be nullified by the angle of each strike, and Akuharu heard the sharp sound of metal splitting as he gripped, rose, and pushed away from the stranger, leaving the bones of the hands, unfortunately, unharmed.

"Showing some life before dying."

One's life is lived, not shown, through moments that define the character of the one who experiences them.

"Interesting..."

Ten meters away, Nameless had been removed, and Akuharu reversed his grip as Akurojin-no-hi was also freed from the thin chain at his back. Blood red eyes watched as the newcomer withdrew his own blade, holding it in front of his body, waiting.

The Kirigakure Shinobi's Sharingan birthed detail from the simplest of movements, and had seen the flickering of the man's pupil as it seemed to easily track his every movement, a feat not readily performed by any normal man. His stance was even, and confident, but still wary, a sign that he'd fought many battles, and learned not to underestimate even the most unassuming of adversaries. But therein lied the problem.

The man could track him, unaided, the dark-gray of his eyes shimmering over Akuharu's movements as if possessed, observing all he did. He had not escaped the man's attack...he had been allowed to catch his bearings. This information conflicted with what Akuharu had already come to understand; if the man was willing to cause such a disturbance, within the sanctity of a graveyard, without any concern for those around, he was most assuredly not consumed with any 'warrior's honor' that might explain allowing Akuharu to catch his bearing. His Sharingan had already showed him; had he not moved, he would have been attacked, unprovoked, without any hesitation. Why then, would such a being wait and give him even the briefest opportunity to escape or counter-attack? Why not merely kill him where he stood immediately?

You are...faster than I am. Stronger. You wish to kill me, and could do so easily, but you have not. You are...observing me. Analyzing. Testing.

Why?

As the words were spoken, another burst of chakra had carried the young man forward to appear before the man, crouching slightly, Akurojin-no-hi in his left hand stabbing towards the man's core at a slightly downward angle, the reverse held Nameless slashing across at the same moment to rip across the man's throat, but restrained. Motions designed to ascertain motive more than mortality, the genin's eyes spinning and revealing what they could of the man's every movement.

You have done this before; this business of war. Your movements betray you. Yet you sought to provoke a stranger for little more than a petty act of murder? It seems unlikely, somehow. Cheap. Not the actions of one with purpose.

Tell me...what purpose could that honestly be?

SPOILER: Click to show

Sharingan [Ichi]: Activated
Shunshin 2/16

[marvolous.]

Rightly so, I had indeed allowed him to escape from me. Though it was clear he had intended on using that technique as more of a distraction than an intended blow, it did nothing to draw my attention away from him. Just as easily as he had slithered away from my hold, I could have just as easily finished him off while he was in the air, unable to protect himself. I didn't, however; he was right, I was testing him.

Still, I spoke no words to assure the child of such. My eyes, very much like my countenance, remained stoic, showing nothing short of any emotion even as my opponent lunged forward. His movement, though fast and quite instantaneous, were easily read. Being a linear technique, Shunshin was only potent if used with a distraction, be it a cloud of smoke or even a light bomb. None were utilized in this situation, and as such, rendered his technique futile.

You see, instead of instantly defending myself as soon as his form ceased it's short burst of speed, as many young and naive shinobi would have, I allowed him to attempt his strike. My body did not move, my stance did not falter - I remained still, long past normally susceptible for a shinboi. It was only after the child had fully swung each of his blades that I took it upon myself to react.

A simple maneuver of my blade in a clockwise rotation was all that was needed to divert both of my opponent's weapons, the strike - generated with a great deal of force and strength - was used to not only divert both blades, but also to throw him off balance. By waiting far longer than usual to defend, I had ensured that the speed of his strike and the momentum of his body would have been too profound for him to be able to shift his body in an attempt to counterstrike, even with a Sharingan.

I wasn't done, either. Assuming my defense had proven successful, and it would have been considering he had just exited a Shunshin, his chest would be met with a blow from the bottom of my foot, sending him crashing backwards.

"My movements don't betray me, yours do. You rushed into an attack, knowing full well that I was faster and stronger than you, hoping to gain what? A guess at my purpose?" I brought my katana back in front of me. "Don't underestimate my resolve again. Next time you will die."

[Naitome]

Unfortunately, an upwards circular rotation of the masked man's sword would be used to deflect the dual motion of Akuharu's blades. Fortunately, as both strikes had occurred at the same time, the very clockwise rotation that stopped one blade, could not of course, be used to stop both simultaneously, as the rotation itself would require the opposing blade to travel from Akurojin-no-hi to Nameless in order to divert simultaneous horizontal and vertical attacks. The man could, of course, not instantly deflect a blade from two different locations without meeting some physical resistance from Akuharu, who was both taller and heavier than his opponent, and any physical resistance sufficient to stop the swords motion for the briefest of instants, would be enough to ensure the man was cut. Though his defense was successful...it would only be partially so.

However, Akuharu had restrained himself, as his motions sought motive over all else, and the blade connecting with his opponent would do little damage. It had not truly been made to. The strangers foot racing out in a simple kick to catch him in the chest would drive into the bones of his upper body, forcing him down into the grass, and then bleed away into the crimson swirl of his Sharingan, its prediction now engraved in the Kirigakure genin's mind. In real time, each detail of the foot moving towards him was outlined, and though the momentum of his body had been quite profound...his earlier restraint would ensure it was not as profound as his opponent might have hoped.

The bladed end of Akurojin-No-Hi, diverted from its original aim, would move with the force of the man's attempted defense into the ground directly before him, sticking fast and deep due to the superior strength of the stranger, between each of his feet. As the kick would rise up to catch him, it was not difficult at all to predict which side of the Naginata the foot would rush out from, as it would have to pick if it wished to connect with his chest. The slightest push in either direction would easily shift him to the opposite side of the attack, where he would release his grip on Akurojin-no-hi, and a procession of quick steps would carry him backwards no more than ten feet, placing the handle of Nameless between his teeth.

"My movements don't betray me, yours do. You rushed into an attack, knowing full well that I was faster and stronger than you, hoping to gain what?"

The hunted do not justify themselves to those that seek them. Gaining implies the desire to gain, as well as the possibility of loss.

When a man wanders the desert at the brink of death, he has nothing to lose by throwing stones at the vultures. There is always hope. All I can do now, is hope that my guess is correct.

"A guess at my purpose?"

Your purpose is irrelevant. Understanding what resolve might drive that purpose is far more important. It must be, if I might die by your hand merely on a whim.

The man would bring his sword back before him.

"Don't underestimate my resolve again. Next time you will die."

There would be a gathering of chakra within Akuharu in time with the man's words, the sealing formation of deft hands.¹ Vibrant eyes watching all.

SPOILER: Click to show

Sharingan [Ichi]: Activated

1. _____________ prep

[marvolous.]

"Understanding what resolve might drive that purpose is far more important."

My assumption had been wrong. I had merely assumed, after seeing his rather lackluster form, that there was nothing more to him - that he had come here welcoming death. I was wrong, and in that same process had underestimated his own resolve. As a result, I was forced to adjust my body mid-strike to minimize the impact of his own attack. Fortunately, I was cladded in armor along my major appendages, reducing a blow that would have surely drawn blood to nothing more than a regular hit.

Not only that, but by the time I adjusted my kick he had already avoided it completely, leaving his weapon before me and once again increasing the distance between us. To say I was surprised he had managed to pull of such a thing despite clearly having a lack of experience with his Sharingan would be an understatement. I was beyond surprised, shocked even; I couldn't hold back if I wanted to leave this battle unscathed.

"Allow me to show you what drives me."

With his hands meeting to no doubt formulate some form of Ninjutsu, my own reached for the porcelain mask that shielded my facade from the world. With a simple click, it was unhinged from the clips that held it in place even during battle. It was removed instantly and tossed onto the ground, displaying my true features to my opponent, as well as the sole factor that fueled everything I did as a shinobi¹.

I didn't attack with my own sudden transformation, just watched. Unlike earlier, I could see everything that was occuring, and with far more clarity than my opponent could.

---

- Sharingan [Stage 3]

[Naitome]

FILLER EPISODE

It is deep within the Ame No Sato underground; a hidden facility so large that it stretches nearly to the boundaries of the hidden village that shares its name. It's technology has been pilfered and remodeled from a thousand different points around the world, hoarded like precious gems and forced into cobbled together shards of bizarre metal and blinking lights that do any number of things, powered by energy and thought. Walking its corridors is a man in an exquisitely pressed uniform that broadcasts his importance effortlessly to those around, scientists in starched white lab coats fidget nervously as he passes and salute incorrectly or turn back to digital screens projected on the petals of flowers as if suddenly consumed with their work.

He moves down a labyrinthine path carved beneath the earth where steel walls rise and form an overhead dome flashing fluorescent light from floating silver globes. His movements are swift and brutal, he cuts a swathe through the air with the abruptness of his turns and pivots, steps echoing loudly, nearing the epicenter of the place known publicly as AMP (Amegakure Municipal Power), but known throughout the black market sub-culture of the Hidden Rain as The Karst. He approaches a man whose back faces him and watches the researcher wander back and forth between five human-sized tubes, mumbling energetically to himself.

The first holds the collapsed body of a strangely dressed teenager, who is either dead or unconscious. The second holds the floating form of a small black haired child, his eyes closed, a stream of bubbles rising from the breathing apparatus at his jaw, surrounded by a partially opaque liquid that extends the entirety of the tube. The other three tubes contain what look to be infants, one of whom, the first in the triplet set, has his eyes open.

The researcher turns. He see's the well-dressed man and fumbles, adjusting his thick rimmed glasses. Coughs. Stutters out quick words.

"General Takeda! It is an honor, but I had heard you would not be visiting our facilities for at least another month! Had I known you were coming early I would have prepared for your arrival, of course, though the---"

Calm yourself doctor. There is no need for alarm. I heard that you've been making progress with your little project, and I wanted to see it for myself. There will be a delegation from The Land of Hot Water here within a few days, and a presentation of all military weapons projects currently overseen by the Daimyo will be necessary, if we plan on them actually funding the creation of more of your....what do you types call them...specimens?

"Yes, yes of course General! Have you been briefed on the specifications of my work? It is quite remarkable actually, and was in fact only possible by a rather fortuitous accident the ramifications of which I can no doubt assu---"

I have not been briefed, doctor, though I understand the gist of your work has to do with forgery, in one way or another, your criminal background notwithstanding. Now, if you would allow me to take a seat--

And the General is near instantly after bought a chair by an eavesdropping tech, within which he sat, leaning back and staring impatiently at the researcher.

--you may begin your briefing.

The researcher clears his throat once more, straightening a grouping of papers that will be unnecessary for his presentation, then realizes this, and places them back on the table, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. He pushes a series of small engraved markings on the iron slab before him and pulls up a projection made with thousands of rearranged colored stones reflecting off of a tiny crystalline engine, showing images that correspond with his words.

"Ahem. As you well know, four years ago there was an event, written off as a freak meteorological incident that resulted in the destruction of Uzu No Kuni, as well as the Hidden Eddy Village. Now, we of course understand that this was a fallacy, a cover-story designed so that our own intelligence operatives could move in and secure the true cause of the event without attracting unwanted attention, and it was subsequently blamed on several shinobi villages, who are currently preparing for their own violent response to the tension a small country's total destruction created.

That event, was his arrival."

And the projection, as well as the doctor, indicated the fallen man in the first tube.

"We were unable to gather his name, nor any real information about him whatsoever, as he remained conscious for only a few seconds after our team was able to make it to his location. The items taken off of his person continue to defy even our greatest scientific minds, and what appears to be some sort of picture identification of the man is written in a code we are to this day unable to decipher in the slightest. Though mysterious, this in of itself is not the most remarkable aspect of finding him. The area, and the young man's own body, were highly saturated with a peculiar type of elemental chakra transformation, something our boys in R&D seem forced into labeling Jikanton.

You heard me correctly General.

Time Release."

Impossible.

And the doctor chuckles, pulling up several diagrams which show the various plausible elemental transformations, overlayed with a symbol representing Yin and Yang forces, as well as a gray area in between marked with the symbol for 'flow'. He presses another series of engravings, and the tube holding the fallen young man lights up from a series of panels near its top. In the soft glow of the light, tiny black spheres could just barely be seen, crashing into each other and reforming, bubbles trapped in each others spherical expanse and then collapsing into nothing and reforming again.

"Not quite as impossible as you might believe, General.

Though it is strange, all evidence points to a near constant stream of chronal disturbance that flows through the boy as naturally as any other particle. We doubt he has any control over it, and most likely whatever brought him here was an accident of the highest magnitude, but as it stands, where he comes from is not nearly as important as when.

Naturally, we secured him here and begin immediate and extensive testing, almost every biophysical procedure that we have was run and then run again to ensure the validity of what his dna seemed to suggest, but after a while...there was simply too much information present to ignore.

This young man..is an Uchiha. Though he had no active Sharingan to speak of, he nevertheless possessed a strain of their kekkei genkai so advanced it was almost indistinguishable from what we currently understand about the clan, and we understand a great deal. It seemed prudent to test the practical applications of such an advancement, but we could not find a way to pull him out of unconsciousness. We assume that his mind is simply incapable of withstanding the rigors of his journey, and so waking him up and interrogating him was clearly not an option.

This is where my, ah--particular skills came into play. I realized that if we were able to transplant his DNA into the body of another, preferably another Uchiha, we would be able to see first hand the extent of its evolution over time. We sent for test subjects, to which our procurement agents returned with over one hundred who appeared viable for the transplant."

The doctor points to the second tube, and the young boy breathing slowly within confinement.

"He was our only survivor."

Who is he? How did he alone survive when so many others could not?

The doctor rummaged through a set of electronically encoded files, pulling up a smaller screen near his workstation, and reading quickly through the information provided, saying it aloud a split second later.

"His name is...Kouketsu Uchiha. Age 8. And we honestly don't know why he was able to survive the process. Perhaps its some rare mutation that only he possesses, perhaps some remnants of altered code from the clan's long ancestral heritage diverging from the Six Path's Sage, perhaps something else entirely."

Hmm. What then were the results of your findings? Did the boy display some unnatural power after transplant?

"As far as we can tell...no. While he didn't reject the transplant, his body was somehow able to over-write the changed code within his genetic structure. To put it plainly; he's too old. His body has simply spent too much time comfortably paced to its own biological development. Ten days after the operation, we found almost no traces of the foreign dna, and his immune system had largely fought off the more aggressive pathogens without the need to even develop the antibodies necessary for such a task. It seemed our efforts had been a waste.

That of course, brings us to my...specimens, as you put it. If the problem was his age and development, and we had proof that he alone could survive the transplant process...I surmised that the only sensible option would be to clone the boy, and introduce our arrivals DNA at an earlier stage in that clone's development."

The doctor waves his hand at the three remaining tubes, and the infants kept within. His fingers fly across the engraved stone and lights flash yet again, a blinking display that shows complex diagrams of bodily systems that appear completely interwoven with an aggressive chakra.

"We created them in a series of three, and began the transplant process six days after their 'birth'. It's now been over six months, and they show no signs of rejecting the transplants. Their health is stable, and our tests indicate that higher brain function, cognitive aptitude, motor functions, sensory interpretation--everything is at a level that far exceeds anything we've ever seen. Simply put, by the time they are fully grown, they will be unstoppable. And there are potentially hundreds more where these came from!"

I see that the legends of Sonzairyuu of The Endless Clones were not exaggerations. You have clearly taken your craft to the next level.

"Ha ha, no, no. That title was lost to me the day I put on this lab coat. It's simply Dr. Kaida now."

The General stands, walking back over, his fingers tracing light marks on each of the tubes as he passed. Coming to the third tube, first in the series of young clones, he notices that this infants eyes follow him as he moves, though the others have kept their own blissfully closed. He turns to the doctor, his face puzzled.

Why is this one awake? Were you aware that its eyes are open?

The doctor frowned and smirked slightly, as if embarrassed.

"Ah yes. The defiant one. We've kept them fed with a heavy dose of specialized sedatives and brain altering chemical cocktails designed to make them more susceptible to their future training regiments. We need soldiers who instantly follow commands, with no thought of fear, no regard for their own safety, no minds that can disobey in the slightest. That first one, AU-1; he's rejecting the drug. We can always do surgery to remove the conflicting element from his brain directly, if he decides to stay defective."

Do they ever leave these tubes?

"Only when we need to check something that might require an invasive procedure. They're perfectly capable of existing outside of their little cages, but it makes it easier if we don't run the risk of seeing them as children, or treating them like it."

What will you do with the boy? Kouketsu?

"He'll be studied for a few more years, and then disposed of, like all the others. His memory of being captured was already erased, and as far as we can tell, no one who would care has any idea he's even gone."

The doctor speaks cheerfully, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather, and not the lives of children. The General circles the desk and reaches out to shake the doctor's hand, a look of approval clearly read across his face.

Then I suppose there's only one thing left to say, Dr. Kaida.

"And what would that be, General?"

Shinra Tensei.

There is an explosion of force, with the General as its epicenter, and the doctor is separated from the hand the man still holds in his grip, as everything within the lab is blown back by gravity itself. Every light and machine is destroyed, the tubes burst spilling their liquid contents everywhere and throwing the surroundings into true chaos as the General's form shifts in space, then rearranges. The man standing there, eyes a unique grayed spiral that evokes power all but unheard of, is known as The Six Paths of The Moon, and he has learned all he needs to of this place. He turns his head, and see's that the tube containing the collapsed man has fallen inward, showering the boy's body with sharp glass. He was dead seconds after the blast went off. The tube containing the boy, Kouketsu Uchiha, has been thrown clear through the wall behind it, and though sprawled out, the Six Paths of the Moon's eyes show him that yes, the young man is still alive. Of the infants, he catches only the faintest of life-signs, their habitats torn apart around them, but he is not surprised to see that the life he has detected belongs to the young one whose eyes had been opened the entire time. He walks over to the child, slow patient steps as the few scientists survivors screaming and running about within try to flee to safer ground, and picks the infant up, watching the struggling rhythm of his heartbeat. He places his ear close to the boys face, listening for traces of breath...

...and the infant rises up suddenly, hitting the Six Paths of The Moon on the side of the temple with his forehead. The infant does not cry. He looks angry, squirming suddenly to free himself of the man's grasp.

The Six Paths of the Moon, Pirate Lord of an ocean many have never seen, has no choice. He laughs. This infant is the first person to have ever struck him out of anger in nearly forty years.

You seem to have some potential, little one.

The pirate begins to walk throughout the remainder of the facility, carving his own way and killing whatever stragglers happen across him without the briefest remorse, holding the infant in his hands the entire time. It takes almost an hour, clearing debris and rewriting the area until he has transformed the facility into little more than a collection of rubble. Upon seeing daylight through a distant grating that leads to the nearby beach, a shadow flickers to his side, kneeling as it comes before him.

"Took long enough, but we're finally here. This place isn't exactly on any map, Captain, but the ship's prepped for take-off and the crew is antsy to leave behind all this rain. You know the natives call this whole area Akuharu? Means double-evil in whatever island-tongue they used when they first settled this chunk of rock. Gives me the heebie-jeebies. Anyway, we're ready when you are. Find what you were looking for?"

And the Six Paths of The Moon looks down, nodding his head, the briefest flash of a smile on his face for only an instant.

I have. And we are bringing a passenger.

He hands the infant to the shadow, who looks up at him perplexed, unsure of how to even hold the baby properly.

"Guess I won't ask where he's come from. This uh...kid...he got a name?"

.....Yes. His name is....Akuharu.

And the shadow's expression alone questions his captain, as if to say really?

Akuharu...Uchiha.

SPOILER: Click to show

Uchiha Shippuden: Soratsu Chronicles!
STAY TUNED!

[marvolous.]

FILLER EPISODE

Mmmmmmmm.

There wasn't a better smell in the world, I was sure of it. Uncle Sora's shop was the highlight of calling Sunagakure my home. The fresh smell of recently cooked bread, mixed with the rich aroma of an assortment of daisies, tulips, and roses, was like an eternal bliss within my mind. I had grown up here, it was my second home. Truthfully, this was my favorite of the two; there wasn't any business being done here - well, shinobi business - so it was quiet. It was nothing like the Etsuko manor, and thats why I truly loved it.

It hadn't always been the same, however. Though it was still known as Uncle Sora's shop, he no longer ran it. Uncle Sora in his prime had been one of Sunagakure finest shinobi, and he along with his brother - my father, Shiro - had been the sole figureheads that led the village to such esteemed heights. Shiro went on to become the village's leader, but Sora, after a life of pain and lies, retired from his profession and settled down. He started his business not long after, but never managed to see it completed for he was assassinated not long after.

I was young when it happened-- well, I'm still young, but I was so young that I could barely even remember the day it happened. It was from then on that I made it my goal to come by the shop everyday to help Auntie with whatever she needed. I'm not sure why, but that's was when I started going by Soratsu; not only did I resemble him, but we shared quite a similar personality, apparently. Auntie seemed determined to keep his memory alive by calling me his name, and I, not wanting to tarnish him, used it as motivation--

"Sora-cchi?" Who's voice was that? "Sora-cchi, you okay?" There the voice was again... it sounded familiar and undistinguished at the same time. I sought to find the origin of the strange sound, but I found nothing. I was about to give up, thinking whatever had created the voice had left, but I felt the pressure of what felt like a finger poking my face - it was painful.

"THAT REALLY HURT..." I screamed, snapping out of state of reverie that had me feeling like I was dreaming. My eyes, though heavy, instantly spotted a child standing only a couple feet away from me. She was young, just about three years old, and had received the full brunt of my scream to the point that it reduced her to tears. "Youka? Sorry! Stop crying, I'm here." I picked her up, wiping away the tears that had begun to run down her face. "You scared me, you know that? What are you doing here by yourself?"

"S-s-sh--"

"Shiro? He left you out here? By yourself?"

She nodded, seemingly giving up on trying to formulate any sentences. In response I shook my head in annoyance, knowing full well that our brother was capable of such a thing. He was far more concerned with running around and trying to be like our father that he often forgot about the little things. Always running around on his own, baka'. It was a bad habit, really; one that, unfortunately, eventually led to his death. Nevertheless, I didn't let my irritation become known to Youka; as her brother, it was my responsibility to be strong for her.

"A-a-are y-you still going?"

"I have to. You know Father, we can't disobey his orders." Still carrying her, I brought her to the chair behind the register and placed her on it. I then knelt down in front of her, flashing her a toothy smile to try and cheer her up. "While I'm gone I want you to do something for me Youka. It's only for big girls, so you'll have to stop crying if you want me to tell ya'. Okay?" She did, instinctively, and poked me in the face once again. This time I laughed.

"I'll make you a deal. If you stay strong and protect the village while father is gone, I promise I will be strong and protect Momma' on our mission tonight."

I stuck my finger out.

"I pinky promise."

---

It was nighttime now. The smell of the village had long but left my nose, in it's place was the murky and damp stench of a forest. We were far from the village, having traveled far outside of Kaze no Kuni. I wasn't sure where we were, exactly, but father had gone on ahead to scope out the area, and had instructed my mother and a body guard - who happened to be my older cousin - to remain in our location. She had obliged without a second thought, and tasked me to go out and find any materials that we might need for camp.

At first I did not want to leave her, more so out of wanting to stay and protect her than being afraid to be on my own, but I quickly conceded; she was, afterall, an esteemed shinobi in her own right. So I headed out of camp, taking along a mere kunai for protection and a simple light for guidance - I didn't need them, but they would surely come in handy if anything went wrong. Nevertheless, my first destination was up north, along the same path that had brought us to our current location. I had noticed freshly cut wood earlier, and so I sought to retrieve it and bring it back to impress father.

I was nearly at the location of where I had seen the wood when I heard a scream from behind me. It was loud, almost as if it had manifested only a couple feet away. I turned immediately, seeking to find the source of the person in such agony. Nothing. I kept looking but I found no one, so I turned once again and continued on my path. Again, I heard the scream. It was louder this time, and I soon realized I recognized the voice. By the time the realization had hit I had already turned and sprinted back in the opposite direction, kunai in hand.

"Momma! MOM!" I screamed; I could feel the tears building within my eyes. I wasn't sure how fast I was moving, but my legs seemed to be working without any further thought. I could still hear her screaming, and with each time my speed increased and increased, forcing adrenaline to pump through my body to keep it functioning properly. "MOM? WHERE ARE YOU?" I couldn't locate her, and it was fueling my anger.

"Help me.... Nagato."

"You're too late..."

"NAGA--"

She screamed again and then everything went silent. I wasn't sure who's voice I was hearing alongside my mother's, but I assumed he was the one hurting her. I took the image that I assumed he resembled - a dark, shadowy figure - and allowed that to become the sole scapegoat of my anger. It kept me going long past my body's natural limits, and wouldn't cease until I had his blood on my hands.

"You're too late..."

He repeated, laughing; a dark, cynical, laugh. By the time I reached camp he was the only one left; my mother, my father, my cousin - they were all dead. He looked at me, still laughing, and then proceeded to step on the throat of my mother's corpse. As if he hadn't just killed both of my parents in cold blood, he continued to taunt me. I could barely see him, the tears that had been built up having been released at the sight of my parents, blurring my vision. He spoke again, but this time his voice was different.

"N-nagato?"

It was the voice of my mother.... and just like that, I snapped. I didn't know what it was, adrenaline or just pure anger, but my vision changed as soon as I lunged forward at the figure. The kunai in my hand, still trembling, was forcefully stabbed within the figure's chest; not once, not twice, but repeatedly without stop. It was savage, but he deserved it... and I couldn't stop myself. I did not stop until I felt the grasp of another pulling me back, and even then the kunai had to be forcibly removed from my grasp to stop me.

"W-what have you done?"

I looked up at the sound of the voice, shocked to see my father alive and well. Everything was different now, like I had just woken up from a bad dream. My vision was no longer blurry but in fact quite clear, like I could see everything around me with perfect clarity. It was then that I saw the corpse of my mother laying there clearly dead - stab wounds all over her chest. I had just...

....murdered my own mother

I didn't know it then, but the voices had just been in my head. It was the first stage of a very long battle with schizophrenia.

[Naitome]

"Allow me to show you what drives me."

The words were spoken with a finality that made the Kirigakure shinobi uncomfortable, and he watched as the man removed his mask, eyes rotating into...something he'd never seen before. Though he knew that his own eye was called a Sharingan, and he knew that others of his 'clan' supposedly possessed similar traits; Akuharu had spent almost the entirety of his life at sea. He'd been an official shinobi for less than a month, and in that time, had spent his days and nights on dangerous missions specifically assigned to him by the Mizukage. He'd never had time to learn anything of his own family, and had never met another person with eyes anything like his own. His fingers, that had so deftly been forming seals, stopped. His hands dropped. His eyes widened and he pointed at the man's face, genuine shock registering for the second time in their conflict.

Your...your eyes...they are...like mine....? Please, I must know, you are an Uchiha as well? Are there many more of us? I heard once when I was younger of a massacre, and I feared that...but no. They could not all be shinobi. Some of us must have survived. Where? Please--

He had forgotten himself for a moment, overcome with emotion. He'd blurted out, and in his eyes, somewhere deep behind the tension of conflict, the impending likelihood of death, the coming pain.....behind it all, Akuharu looked....joyful.

And even deeper still was the unwavering certainty that Akuharu was not like other Uchiha. For when the deep gaze of the stranger's three tomoe would cast a glance towards the flow of energy that suffused the Kirigakure shinobi's frame, he would no doubt notice that it was bizarrely familiar. The near infinite spectrum of colors which defined the boys spiritual and physical energies combining was incredibly dense, unmistakably complex, in patterns that seemed to fold and unfold into themselves, rippling out at its edges like a slow explosion of light. It was a once in a lifetime sight, and though each person's energy flow was slightly different to a Sharingan, one this overwhelming and yet...refined and efficient, there was little chance he'd ever come across something like it again. The colors did not show ones experience or power, did not even truly show potential; they showed all the myriad inner coiling necessary to make every life-form's energy output different from everything else.

Oddly enough, the stranger had come across the exact same signature once before.

It was within the body of Kouketsu Uchiha.

SPOILER: Click to show

Sharingan [Ichi]: Activated

[marvolous.]

Your...your eyes...they are...like mine....? Please, I must know, you are an Uchiha as well?

This was... odd. Surely, with such a rarity that was the Sharingan, I would have thought this child would have known of his history. Even after the many shinobi wars, Uchiha were still well known throughout the world, despite most of them having fled their birth land for the misty lands of Mizu no Kunai. It was surprising - shocking, even - that this was the first Sharingan he had seen that did not belong to him.

Are there many more of us? I heard once when I was younger of a massacre, and I feared that...but no. They could not all be shinobi. Some of us must have survived. Where? Please--

"There are Uchiha everywhere, you just don't know where to look. Over the years most of us have died, however--"

Nani?! My voice trailed off. Nothing had changed; Akuharu was the same as he was minutes ago, however-- I could now see everything about him, and that's what raised a red flag. For the first time since encountering the young Uchiha, my face became flushed with emotion; I couldn't stop it, and much like himself, I was genuinely shocked. It wasn't his eyes, no -- but rather his chakra. Unlike most shinobi, his was noticeably darker and eerie, a deep contrast to normal Uchiha.

A deep contrast to normal Uchiha... but exactly the same as one of the strongest of our clan - Kouketsu Uchiha. To most this would mean nothing, but to me, one that had spent many years working alongside him, it meant far much more.

"Consider yourself lucky." I cooed, returning to my natural stoic demeanor. Instead of continuing the fight I bent forward, retrieving my porcelain mask first, followed by the youth's sword. With my digits caressing it's base, my Sharingan was deactivated; I could almost feel my chakra leaving my body through my hands, lightly coating the blade's hilt before disappearing all together.¹ "When your eyes have matured... I'll will be back to claim them as my prize. No matter where you run or hide..." A pause.

I tossed him his weapon, my body turning on the spot even before it reached his possession. I vanished not long after, leaving nothing but a steady gale of zephyr in my absence.

"I'll find you."

---

¹_______.

Exit!

[Naitome]

"There are Uchiha everywhere, you just don't know where to look. Over the years most of us have died, however--"

What? What is it?

And though Akuharu asked, the man seemed momentarily frozen in his own moment of shock. Not knowing the extent to which the Sharingan eye could see, he had no idea what startled the man so, but the look in the strangers eyes seemed to convey disbelief more than anything. He backed away a few more steps, unsure of what to make of the man's actions, before the stoic calm returned to the man's face, and he bent down to retrieve his mask, grabbing Akurojin-no-hi from the ground.

"Consider yourself lucky."

Why? I don't understand...what changed? I thought you were intent on killing me?

"When your eyes have matured... I'll will be back to claim them as my prize. No matter where you run or hide..."

Akurojin-no-hi was tossed back towards him, after a peculiar moment of handling the hilt. The strangers final words would disappear into the wind, just as he did.

"I'll find you."

Wait! Come back! Why would you need my eyes if your own are further along? What are you talking about?!

But the stranger was gone, and though the hilt of Akurojin-no-hi was marred with an odd symbol, Akuharu did not care. There was so much he'd wanted to ask, so much he needed to know. He called out into the wind, enraged, but his voice would be lost, and after a few hours, his voice hoarse, the sun dying at the edge of the horizon...he had no choice but to leave without answers.

Soon. He thought to himself. Soon I will learn all I can about this family of mine.

---

Exit!