The village of Tensei-no-Mura rested along the high ridges of the Iron Nation, its wooden houses clinging to stone terraces like roots to a cliff. Once a prosperous shrine town, it had declined since the last war. Most of the temples were empty, save for moss and wind. Only three were still in use, and one had recently been blessed—according to the locals—by a wandering priestess in silver and white.
From the forested slope above, six figures watched the village through spyglasses.
Kozan stood with arms folded, sharp eyes scanning the central square. "She's there. Same robes as described. She's been moving from village to village, leaving behind quiet converts and strange rumors."
"No chakra signature, still," Suiren murmured beside him, her long hair tied in a tight braid. She adjusted the seals on her wrist bracers. "Whatever she is, I can feel that she is under some version of the transformation Jutsu, she's not an ordinary shinobi."
Masari crouched lower in the grass, scribbling quick notes onto a small parchment. "Locals say she heals hearts with her words, guiding people to happier futures. Another claims she made a wild boar bow before her."
"Folk tales." Kozan's voice was flat, but his eyes lingered longer than necessary.
Suiren exhaled slowly. "And yet we've followed these 'folk tales' across six villages, and each one brings us closer."
Behind them, three more jōnin conferred in hushed tones
Tenga, a tall man with narrow eyes and a long spear, was the most skeptical. "I still say this is a trick. Genjutsu. A cultist masking herself."
Ichise, younger, with a jagged tattoo across his left cheek, replied, "Even so, she walks without guards. If she's bait, she's confident."
Yura, lean and calm, carried a wide fan and rarely spoke unless necessary. "Confidence isn't proof of power. But I say we treat her as if it is. "
Kozan nodded, approving Yura's caution. He pointed toward the road curving out of the eastern edge of the village. "She's due to leave by that path. She travels alone—always on foot, always at dusk."
Masari added, "Villagers said she heads for the shrine ruins in the old valley beyond the ridge."
"Perfect," Suiren said. "We intercept her there. No villagers. No watchers. No interruptions."
"We approach with caution," Kozan concluded. "Observe first. No contact unless necessary. If she resists... we test her limits."
The team dispersed like shadows through the treeline.
Below, the priestess in white knelt before an empty shrine, lighting incense with hands that did not tremble. The villagers watched her from a respectful distance.
They did not see the storm building in the woods beyond.
<<<< o >>>>
Yuuto had once been the proud gardener of Renga's court. But the lure of dried petal venom—a powerful hallucinogen—had ruined his body and mind. Now, demoted to trimming minor shrubs in the side courtyards, he lived in shadows.
One day, in a dusty corner of the storage sheds, a man found him.
"I brought you the blue flower. No charge. All I need is for you to swap the offering box at the shrine every full moon."
Yuuto didn't ask questions. He took the drug, the powder... and the parcel with the lotus seal.
<<<< o >>>>
The Spiritual Clone of Hinata walked calmly beyond the village as one of the few priestesses of the moon cult, her footsteps light along the forest path. Her heart was peaceful—helping others had become more fulfilling than she ever imagined. Even now, she wondered why she hadn't started sooner. Though her identity remained veiled, she worked in quiet faith for a better world, at least for the Land of Iron.
With her heightened spiritual senses, she felt them before they moved. Spiritual signatures—controlled, trained. Not bandits this time. Shinobi.
Kuro, hidden in the underbrush nearby, was already alert. Since adapting samurai breathing and developing her own style, her ability to vanish into the environment had become uncanny. Night itself seemed to settle wherever she passed. That thought made the priestess smile softly.
Far away, in the Gin estate, the real Hinata gently closed a storybook in front of a sleepy Rin while Maeko rocked little Taro. Rising quietly, she excused herself and went to her chamber. Her spirit settled into meditation. She started to attract the white threads of the natural world towards her spirit and body... she's going to need to enter the silver stage for this—something told her she would be needed soon.
Back on the path, one of the figures emerged from the shadows: tall, lean, eyes sharp as stone. His bearing spoke of long campaigns and hard choices.
"I understand you are one of the priestesses of the moon," he said, voice formal, but edged with calculation.
The spiritual clone inclined her head. "And what may I offer to a traveler on such a blessed evening?"
"Kozan of Iwagakure," he replied. "I seek information. Concerning certain... events in this region."
There was a pause.
"You must be here for the battle I witnessed some months ago?" she said, letting the silence draw tension before filling it.
Kozan's soul pulsed briefly with recognition. "Correct. We lost contact with a team sent to investigate a traitorous shinobi. They vanished in this area."
"A troubling thing," she answered softly. "Though you must understand why I would be concerned to see an Iwa shinobi approach me alone at night to question me about something so far past."
A flicker of cold amusement moved across Kozan's aura. "Standard procedure. When missing comrades are involved, secrecy becomes a necessity. Surely, a woman of your wisdom understands that."
She studied him quietly. There was no intention of letting her go—not without answers. Still, she needed only time. Time to reach the Silver Stage.
"Your reassurance comforts me, Kozan-san," she replied, her voice serene. "I will speak honestly. My lips are sealed to what is not mine to share. But from what I have seen, I can testify."
Kozan's soul tensed. "That is appreciated. Many speak highly of you and your kind, though irregular. Your presence... and this small following of yours, raises questions. Perhaps you could start with what you saw that night."
For a moment, Hinata considered it. If she told them something, would it change anything about the future—Yes. The future was destined to be changed. This meeting, this event was proof.
The clone nodded slowly. "There were two men, surrounded by four others. The first summoned birds that exploded. That power caught my attention. But then, his companion—bent, cloaked—intervened. The bomber withdrew. The second man… began to summon puppets. First three, then ten. He overwhelmed the others. They were not equals. I remained on a distant ridge, but the scale of power was... daunting. I left before they could sense me."
Kozan was silent for nearly a full minute. "A puppet master... it fits. Possibly another nukenin. That aligns with the weapons we found."
He took a half-step closer.
"I must ask more. Your order is irregular. Untraceable. Rumors and reverence. We would like to hear the truth. Your purpose. Your methods."
The priestess's expression did not change, but her spiritual presence cooled noticeably. "Just as Iwa does not offer the world its secrets, I cannot offer what is not mine to give. The moon cult grants gifts, but our secrets we keep."
Kozan smiled thinly, a wolf scenting blood. "Then perhaps you would accompany us for further conversation. You've been more polite than most I've met in your... situation."
She felt it then—shifting chakra in the undergrowth. The other Iwa shinobi, five of them, each forming clones of earth to approach the clearing silently.
She closed her eyes. The Silver Stage was near.
Her breath deepened.
And far away, in the Silver World, the wind began to stir.
<<<< o >>>>
Kozan did not like this situation. The woman—yes, beautiful—but ethereal, like a ghost. Suiren still insisted she couldn't sense chakra from her, and Kozan's own secret Jutsu, seismic step—an advanced perception technique through ground vibrations—told him there was no one there. Only the most skilled in stealth could achieve that. Even her appearance, he suspected, was not her true form. A transformation technique, most likely.
Still, to Kozan's surprise, the conversation had gone smoothly. His gentler approach had extracted more information than he anticipated. But once she refused to reveal the secrets of her faith, things had to escalate.
He stepped closer, his presence sharp and heavy. His bloodlust seeped outward like a tide, meant to suffocate her spirit before any resistance could spark. All around, his comrades and their clones moved into position, encircling the clearing.
Then, she knelt.
A gesture of prayer. Eyes closed. Docile.
Foolish, he thought—until his instincts screamed.
Behind his comrades, five massive forms burst forth—canine beasts, each the size of a warhorse, shaped from living shadow. Their eyes glowed crimson, and breath like nightmares coiled from their mouths.
One moved behind him.
Without hesitation, Kozan sank into the underground—his seismic technique guiding him an instant before jaws would have torn into his spine. Even so, the force of the creature's approach shook the forest.
He emerged again to the side, heart pounding.
Suiren was already moving. An explosive Jutsu lit the woods, destroying one of the beasts. The battle turned into chaos.
The earth clones were helpless—chains of shadow burst from the ground, wrapping around their torsos, crushing them to dust.
In mere moments the battlefield had changed. Kozan rose, scanning the battlefield. The massive wolf loomed ahead—larger now, its shape swelling unnaturally, shadowy sparks of black lightning dancing in the air around it. Under one of his paws he could see some of his companions, trying to maintain their consciousness. The nightmare wolf's red eyes locked onto him.
The priestess remained in place, still kneeling, her hands folded in prayer. But beside her, floating slightly above the ground, another figure had materialized—a woman with otherworldly beauty, clothed in shimmering white, her silver long hair danced with the night wind and powerful silver eyes watching him. She reached up and slid a delicate oni mask over her face, hiding a knowing, mischievous smile.
The great shadow wolf swelled even more, doubling in size, its aura crackling with malice. Then—it vanished.
In the instant after, Kozan's eyes met the silver gaze of the masked woman.
Then he could feel it, a powerful Genjutsu overwhelmed his defenses for an instant.
That is all it took.
And everything turned white.
<<<< o >>>>
Kuro didn't like the situation. Six men—trained, dangerous. She'd felt them long before they made their move. Their scent, their energy, their intentions—all wrong.
But Hinata had told her to wait.
And Kuro was a good hunter, and the shadows condensed and covered her like an armor of nightmares.
She crouched low in the shadows, syncing her breath of shadow and thunder to the rhythm she learned in the Moon World. The master and the guide had taught her to be more than a beast—to wield her spirit as blade and shield. She had fought stronger foes than these. In the Crystal Tower, she hunted illusions wrapped in Jutsu, warriors who bent the elements like ribbons. These men were slow.
So she laid her trap.
Ten shadow wolves, forged in silence, as solid as real flesh—a technique created by Kuro after studying the famed Shadow Clone. But, hers were something else: true, physical, living shadows...
They crept behind the Iwa shinobi. Her own darkness reached into the clearing, seeding paralyzing tendrils beneath their feet. Waiting for the moment to attack. They wouldn't even feel the snare close until it was too late.
Then, Kozan stepped forward.
His bloodlust ignited the battlefield. And that was enough.
The world turned red.
Kuro surged forth, shadow and thunder coiling around her as she invoked her stealth form. Her steps soundless. She blurred past the trees, aiming for the one closest to Hinata. She would have torn his spine out—if he hadn't vanished into the underground at the last possible second.
Clever... clever Rat. She respected that.
But the others weren't so lucky.
Her clones struck in unison. Ten wolves of smoke and nightmare leapt from the shadows, slamming into the other jōnin and their earth copies. One shinobi, likely Suiren, unleashed a burst of explosive light that vaporized one of Kuro's shadows, scattering it like ash. The bright light interrupted Kuro's shadow paralysis technique.
Still, she smiled inwardly.
This would be fun.
Chains of shadow burst upward, coiling around the legs of the remaining earth clones, crushing them in seconds. One jōnin countered with fire, another with a wall of stone, and a third with slicing wind—but Kuro danced through it all.
A thunderclap cracked the air as she inhaled deep and expanded. Using a technique she had mimicked from the warriors of the Crystal Tower, her form grew—massive, wild. She leapt through the branches with surprising grace, launching herself above their formation.
Explosions chased her shadow.
Below, the shinobi staggered. Their formation broke as they were assailed from the flanks by newly summoned shadow clones. They responded with force—another fireball, another quake—but Kuro was gone again, a mirage in the dark.
Then she dropped.
Her enormous body crashed through the earthen barrier they had raised, reducing it to rubble. The smoke cleared to reveal her paws slamming down beside the last standing jōnin. His blade trembled.
She did not bite.
Because the battlefield had already shifted.
The Rat emerged from under the ground in the distance to see Kuro's eyes.
The silver-haired woman appeared beside the priestess, hovering calmly. She donned her mask.
And Kuro knew.
Hinata was ready. Her mind games are scary.
With a final breath, Kuro pulsed her shadow one last time. disappearing from the Rat's eyes.
And in the Rat's eyes, only Hinata's silver eyes remained.
Everything turned white for the Rat.
The eyes of all the humans and the Rat were now opaque, out of focus, and within their minds, a white horizon stretched endlessly.... the hunt was over.
Kuro's form shrank, returning to her smaller, sleek self. With a playful hop and a toothy grin, she padded toward the still-praying priestess, now standing.
"She… I put them to sleep with Genjutsu and now they are in the white space—the midpoint between here and Silver World," the spiritual clone murmured.
At the same Hinata in her room "That took more from me than I'd like to admit. At least now I know that it's possible to overcome defenses of that caliber, although the cost is losing the benefit of the Silver Stage at once, all of its power used for a simple attempt, Michel always said the method I used to reach it was just a shortcut to power. Something else to improve." she murmured to herself.
Back on the path, Kuro wagged her tail. The spiritual clone quickly composed herself and said to Kuro with a gentle smile "They'll be nicer when they wake up. But we should go. I think they're going to need time to think."
She leaned her head against the priestess's side.
"Come on. Let's not tempt them twice."