Sasuke and Gaara stood silently, the tension between them humming like a live wire.
Sasuke slowly unsheathed his katana, its metal gleaming beneath the sun. He lowered into a stance, eyes fixed on his opponent, calm and calculating.
Gaara, on the other hand, stood still—stoic and expressionless, but not careless. He'd received medicine twice now from Konoha's med-nin after his previous battle. He wasn't going to make the mistake of underestimating a leaf shinobi again.
The sand from his gourd spilled out slowly, slithering around him like a watchful serpent.
"Begin!" Hayate called out.
In a flash, Sasuke bolted forward—chakra surging, blade gleaming.
Gaara didn't move. Instead, a thick dome of sand rose around him, locking him inside like a fortress.
At the top of the dome, a third eye made of sand emerged and opened, watching the battlefield from above with eerie detachment.
Sasuke's pace didn't slow—if anything, it quickened. As he reached the dome, he slashed with his katana—
CLANG!
The sand parted with the force of his blade, a clean gash carved into the structure.
But almost instantly, the dome repaired itself. The sand rippled and sealed the damage like it had never been there.
A giant sand hand burst out from the side, lunging at Sasuke.
He twisted mid-air, narrowly dodging it.
Sharingan—activated.
His eyes spun, red and black tomoe locking onto every detail.
Every twitch. Every shift of sand.
More arms formed. Tendrils lunged. But now, Sasuke saw them all in slow motion.
He ducked, weaved, and flipped—and each time, he was a blur of precision.
That dome… he thought, observing as he circled it. It's a defense first. But is it his prison too? What's the weak point?
Sasuke skidded back, dropping into a crouch.
Then, his chakra flared.
Lightning crackled across his blade.
He lunged again.
As the katana sliced into the dome, it wasn't just steel—it was lightning-enhanced chakra, coursing through the sand barrier.
The sand sizzled and crackled, sparks flying as the dome convulsed in defense.
Lightning crackled along Sasuke's katana—pure chakra infused with intent.
Sand may be dense. Sand may be vast. But lightning?Lightning pierces.
And in the elemental wheel of fate, lightning trumps earth.
The dome of sand guarding Gaara flickered, hissed, then cracked with violent pops as the lightning surged through it.
It buckled. Then shattered.
Sasuke didn't wait.
Through the falling debris of sand, he saw Gaara retreating inside, already forming a second layer—a compact shell around just his body.
Not this time.
Sasuke's Sharingan spun.
He thrust his katana forward, a lightning spear in the form of a blade—
SHUNK.
The blade pierced Gaara's body like it was made of paper.
It slid in with no resistance. No armor. No defense. Only the sound of steel meeting flesh.
Time. Froze.
The arena stood in stunned silence. A collective gasp sucked the air from the stadium.
Temari and Kankuro jumped from their seats, horror in their eyes—only to be blocked by Konoha's elite guard, already expecting something like this.
"Gaara—!"
But then—
A blood-curdling scream exploded from the center of the arena.
"BLOOD—! MY BLOOD! IT'S MY BLOOD!"
The voice was twisted. Fractured. Drenched in trauma.
Gaara's face twisted into something… unrecognizable.
Anger. Pain. Madness. Every suppressed emotion in his soul burst out like lava from a volcano.
The sand… changed.
It twitched. Then howled.
From calm control to wild frenzy.
The arena's floor cracked as sand surged in every direction, uncontrolled and rabid—like a beast broken from its leash.
Sasuke leapt back instantly, blade still crackling. His eyes widened—this wasn't the Gaara he fought seconds ago. This… was a monster.
"He's losing control," Sasuke muttered, tightening his grip.
The sand rose like tidal waves, swarming indiscriminately, even creeping up the audience stands.
Panic set in.
Shinobi shouted. Civilians screamed.
Parents clutched their children. Jounin moved to protect the innocent.
Chaos.
The entire arena began to fracture under the weight of the rampaging sand.
And then—
Boom.
Outside the arena, explosions echoed through the village—loud, coordinated, and far too precise to be an accident.
Plumes of smoke spiraled into the sky from all corners of Konoha.
The attack had begun.
BOOM.
Just as the sand raged like a living beast, a strange gas began to seep through the cracks of the arena.
It rolled in like mist, silent and invisible—until it wasn't.
Civilians were the first to collapse.
Thuds echoed across the stone benches as unconscious bodies dropped one by one.
In a matter of seconds, half the audience was down.
"Sleeping gas!" a shinobi shouted—but it was already too late for many.
Up above, Hiruzen Sarutobi stood up, eyes blazing with fury.
"An invasion—!"
But before he could even finish the sentence—
"Not so fast, Hiruzen."
The voice was calm. Too calm.
Rasa. The Kazekage.
But in that moment, Hiruzen understood—Suna were the attackers.
He barely had time to react before golden sand surged around them both, encasing them in a blinding sphere and dragging them away from the stadium.
Elsewhere—
In the center of the arena, Gaara stood alone, surrounded by rampaging sand.
His scream still echoed in the hearts of those who heard it.
Then—two cloaked figures, identities unknown, swooped in and picked him up.
Sasuke, standing on the other end of the chaos, watched with clenched fists.
He turned, locked eyes with Naruto up in the stands.
Naruto gave him a short nod, calm amidst chaos.
"Go."
That one word was enough.
Sasuke bolted after them, sprinting up the ruined walls and vanishing into the forest like a black blur.
Temari and Kankuro, already in pursuit of Gaara, glanced back. Upon sensing Sasuke tailing them, they quickened their pace, the chase now on.
Back in the crumbling arena—
Tsunade, Kushina, and Shizune were already mid-battle, fists glowing with chakra as they demolished the incoming enemies with terrifying force.
The air cracked with every punch, every impact shaking the stadium like an earthquake.
Meanwhile, Karin, Ino, Sakura, Haku, and Tenten moved with swift precision, gathering unconscious civilians and leading them to shelter.
They weren't just healers and supporters—they were warriors, holding the line between the chaos and the innocent.
Suddenly—
A flash of lavender and white.
Hinata Hyuga had arrived, her body still aching from her match with Naruto, but her resolve burning brighter than ever.
She'd seen everything through the orb Naruto gave her—and she wasn't going to stay on the sidelines.
She jumped in, activating her Byakugan, and began guiding people out with calm authority and surgical strikes against attackers.
All across Konoha, the shinobi ranks burst into action.
ANBU squads, Jonin, Chunin, even Genin—all were in motion.
They weren't just fighting for the village.They were fighting for home.
And then—
High above it all, on the stone faces of the Hokage Monument, stood Naruto Uzumaki.
He watched it all—the fear, the pain, the chaos.
The betrayal.
But his eyes weren't filled with rage.
They were filled with clarity.
With purpose.
He sat down briefly, hand resting beneath his chin, his mind calm in the eye of the storm.
Then, he whispered to himself—no one there to hear it but the wind.
"Today is the beginning of the end.
Not of Konoha… but of the world as it was.
I will build a world where no child cries alone.
Where pain isn't the only teacher.
Where peace isn't a lie."
He stood.
The wind whipped around him.
And then—
He jumped.
A red streak in the air.
The shinobi world would never be the same again.