The desert stood still. Not even the wind dared to move.
Twelve ANBU agents stood frozen, masks turned toward the crumpled figure lying behind Zeldris.
A corpse.
Tattered blue robes. Dried blood. And the unmistakable kanji stitched boldly into the back.
三代目風影.
The Third Kazekage.
The strongest in Sunagakure's history.
Now, just... scenery.
The ANBU leader stared, expression unreadable behind his mask—but the twitch in his gloved fingers said enough.
"How…?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
His tone cracked. That sharp, commanding edge? Fading fast.
He wasn't afraid yet—but doubt had sunk its claws in.
Zeldris didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
He just gave a smirk. The kind of smirk that said, "You're asking the wrong question."
Sasori, always the polite one, decided to clear things up.
"We didn't find the Kazekage," he said calmly.
He gestured vaguely at the body.
"We killed him."
A pause.
"No—he killed him."
He tilted his head toward Zeldris like a proud dad presenting a school project.
The ANBU squad blinked in unison.
Even behind their masks, you could feel the collective "Excuse me, what?" ripple through the group.
Zeldris stretched, almost lazily.
Cracks popped down his neck. He looked like someone who'd just woken from a nap, not someone surrounded by elite assassins.
The ANBU leader barked a bitter laugh, the panic in his chest buried under layers of sarcasm.
"You expect me to believe that?"
He stepped forward, the dry crunch of his boots loud in the silence.
"You were good. I'll give you that. Our youngest ANBU captain—sure. But killing a Kage? Alone?"
He snorted.
"If he really did that…" The leader shook his head with a mocking grin. "Then I'm the Fifth Hokage."
Sasori glanced at Zeldris.
Zeldris blinked.
Then smiled.
"Oh," he said dryly. "That's how they pick Hokage now? Delusion and overconfidence? Congrats on the promotion, Lord Fifth."
The ANBU leader's grin twitched.
"…You done?"
Zeldris shrugged. "I haven't even started."
But the leader raised a hand.
"We're done talking. You just handed us the perfect scapegoat."
His tone sharpened. "We pin the murder on you two. We go home heroes. Hokage's happy. Danzo's ecstatic. And you?"
His hand dropped.
"You die."
In an instant, the squad shifted—blades out, formation tightening.
A twelve-man kill box.
Zeldris just… sighed.
Loudly.
Sasori crossed his arms.
"Didn't we already go through this?" Zeldris muttered.
"They're Konoha. They don't listen," Sasori replied, deadpan.
"Right."
Zeldris looked around at the encircling enemies, expression flat.
"I'll say this once."
His tone dropped an octave, each word steady.
"If any of you don't feel like dying today—walk away."
No one moved.
The ANBU leader even laughed again.
"Still pretending you're in control? You're surrounded."
Zeldris nodded slowly, as if processing something truly profound.
Then smiled.
"Cool."
The smile vanished.
"Now shut up."
And then—flash.
A pulse of light erupted from his palm, a brilliant white that made the sand itself flinch.
The ANBU recoiled, instinctively shielding their eyes.
"What the hell—!"
It wasn't any jutsu they recognized.
Not a clone. Not a genjutsu. Not anything they'd trained against.
This was something else.
Zeldris didn't wait for them to adapt.
He took a slow step forward, voice cool and steady.
"See, here's the part you forgot…"
"Back when I was your captain, I never showed you everything."
He raised his glowing hand.
"Didn't want to hurt your feelings."
The leader gritted his teeth.
"Enough! Kill him!"
Weapons gleamed in the sun. Twelve shadows moved at once.
Zeldris exhaled.
"Alright."
He cracked his knuckles once—
—and slammed his fist into the earth.
BOOM.
The ground shuddered.
Sand split like water, the earth beneath groaning under the weight of his chakra. A shockwave tore outward, flinging several ANBU back like rag dolls.
One hit the sand hard enough to leave a crater.
Another didn't get up.
Sasori, entirely unfazed, blinked once.
"…Was that necessary?"
Zeldris straightened up, dusting off his sleeve.
"No."
He glanced toward the remaining ANBU.
"But it was funny."
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