The morning after the duel filtered gently through the tall windows of the administrative tower. The air was crisp, but the brazier at the center of the private meeting chamber kept the room comfortably warm. Takama Gin, newly victorious, stood reviewing scrolls when a discreet side door opened—without ceremony, but with purpose.
Two figures stepped inside.
They wore modest clothing, their hair dyed a dull brown, but their bearing betrayed a past of precision and discipline. Kenshiro walked tall, his steps measured, a lifetime of shinobi instinct still present in every motion. Beside him was Reika, graceful yet sharp-eyed, her presence calm and commanding, like a seal master who had long worked in silence.
"My lord Takama," Kenshiro began, bowing deeply, "my name is Kenshiro Uzumaki. This is my wife, Reika. We were once shinobi of Uzushiogakure."
Takama's eyes narrowed. The name rang like an old bell from a distant past.
Kenshiro continued: "We were on a diplomatic mission in these lands when our village fell during the Second Great Ninja War. The former Daimyō granted us asylum. Since then, we've maintained the protective seals of the royal estate in secret. When he passed, we served his heir, Renga… until he was betrayed by his own household."
Takama set aside his scrolls. His expression remained calm, but attentive.
"And now you come to me?"
"Yes," Reika answered, bowing low. "We saw the weakness that led to Renga's fall. We won't allow such a failure again. If you permit it, we wish to improve your wards, inspect every barrier, and ensure no enemy can infiltrate your household again."
Takama studied them in silence. His instincts did not raise alarms—only caution, and the awareness of opportunity. After a pause, he nodded once.
"I accept your vow. But before I allow you to work on my home… I want you to meet someone. My daughter. I believe she may need your help with a rather unique project."
<<<< o >>>>
A gentle wind passed through the Silver World.
In the gleaming Tower of Crystal, high above the lakes of soul glass and valleys of echoing memory, Hinata awaited her guests. When the door opened, she stood at its center, dressed in a layered kimono of starlit silver and charcoal blue. Her black hair shimmered faintly, the touch of divine presence still upon her. Tonight she was just Hinata, the young priestess.
Kenshiro and Reika entered with respectful caution, their eyes widening at the impossible beauty of the realm. Shards of floating crystal refracted their reflections, and the tower's spiral design seemed to defy the physics of stone and time.
"So this is what she meant…" Kenshiro whispered.
Reika looked at Hinata. "We always ignored the invitations of this 'dream realm.' They felt... unnatural."
"Many do," Hinata said gently. "But you're here now. This world is connected to my soul—and to every soul it has touched. You've earned your place here."
She guided them to a chamber carved of translucent glass, filled with tomes and scrolls that hummed with latent chakra.
"Among the knowledge preserved here are fragments from Uzushiogakure. Not just teachings—but memories. Manuals, techniques, seals I believe your people thought lost."
Kenshiro ran his fingers along a scroll's edge, reverent. "This… this is the legacy I thought buried forever."
Reika's voice trembled slightly. "To find it here... through you… I feel young again. Like the future still holds surprises."
Hinata smiled. "Then perhaps, together, we can create something new. A seal that preserves life—even when a great beast is torn from it."
And beneath the timeless light of the Tower of Crystal, the three began to forge a path no one else had ever dared to walk.
<<<< o >>>>
Days later, deeper within the shadows of the Amegakure tower, a new report was presented. The room was darker now, and the storm outside had not let up—if anything, it had grown worse, as though the sky itself sensed the growing tension.
"More information arrived and we were right—Taki's elders altered the narrative," Konan said, holding a data scroll. "The cult leader cast a large-scale Genjutsu, affecting everyone in the village involved in the incidents in the Land of Iron over the past year. They claim their Jinchūriki repelled the attack. But we've had whispers from informants that it was the opposite. That the beast lost control and it had to be... contained."
"By her?" Pain asked.
Konan nodded. "Yes, the cult leader. They call her the Silver Lady, High Priestess of the Moon Cult."
Pain leaned forward slightly, fingers steepled. "Divinity as a mask. Yet it grants her power, and following."
"She had a companion," Konan added. "According to her words, her Knight. Male. Masked. Wields a sword. Displaces himself like mist. No known affiliation."
"And no chakra to track?"
"Correct."
The rain intensified against the window panes.
"We need to know what she wants," Pain finally said. "And whether she is a threat... or an asset."
Konan stepped closer. "Should we send someone?"
Pain closed his eyes for a moment before responding, "Yes, send Itachi and Kisame. They'll evaluate her. Observe. If possible, offer an invitation. If not..."
"Understood."
Outside, lightning arced across the storm-choked sky.
The hunt had begun.