At dawn, the island felt like the breath of a giant—humid, humming, and steaming softly across the ground.
Hagoromo walked slowly, sensing the moonlight had faded, and with it, a calm had passed.
In his palm, the ember still pulsed — Ino-Maru.
Not a creature, not a weapon, but a presence. A beast-soul.
He could feel it near him, like an inner voice — but without words.
And soon, he understood — it was warning him.
The wind turned hot.
The air — heavy.
Too heavy.
Then came the explosion beyond the village.
Through the forest, a pillar of flame burst into the sky.
— "Another fire," muttered an old man with a cart. "Second one this morning. They say a guy with the Flame-Eater Fruit showed up. Burned the whole trade post."
— "Any Marines?" someone asked.
— "Just scouts. The main unit won't get close."
Hagoromo walked toward the rising smoke.
He found him at the outskirts.
A young man, maybe twenty, shirtless, orange tattoos glowing like embers across his arms.
Eyes — empty.
On his back, a black emblem: "KAIEN" — a name, or a title.
Around him: scorched debris, melted trees, and charred bodies.
— "Who are you?" Hagoromo asked.
Kaien turned. Not surprised. Not alarmed.
— "Who are you? A rescuer? Philosopher?"
— "I burned the port because they laughed when I said I'd be an admiral. No one's laughing now."
He raised his hand — flame sparked into the air like a spit from the sun.
— "Walk away. While you can."
Hagoromo didn't.
He stepped between the fire and the village.
— "You have strength," he said. "But no will in it.
— Only noise."
— "You don't even know what you're talking about!"
Kaien hurled a flaming spear.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Hagoromo raised his hand — not to speak, but to protect.
The flame struck — and vanished, as if absorbed by an invisible barrier.
Ino-Maru roared inside him — not with sound, but through a pulse.
A surge passed through Hagoromo's body.
Chakra?
No.
But something like it.
He stepped forward.
Patterns of energy danced across his skin like shifting markings.
For a moment, his eyes shimmered — not the Rinnegan, but something older. Something beastlike.
— "What are you?!" Kaien staggered.
— "I'm not from this world.
— I'm not here to save it.
— But if you put your pain above the lives of others…
— I will answer."
Kaien roared, becoming a living blaze, flames lashing like a dragon.
Hagoromo didn't block. Instead, he swept his hand across the ground, summoning a wave of white steam — not ice, not water — heat cancelation.
The steam clouded Kaien's vision.
Hagoromo stepped into it —
and placed his palm on Kaien's chest.
— "Not death. Not vengeance. Only silence."
A pulse.
Everything stopped.
The fire vanished.
Kaien collapsed — alive, but unconscious.
Hagoromo stood still, Ino-Maru within him quiet and calm,
not satisfied by victory — but by the fact that rage had not been glorified.
Later, when the villagers crept back, and when the Marines arrived,
someone asked:
— "Are you a ninja? A Devil Fruit user?"
He replied:
— "I'm just a man.
— One who was once a god.
— Now learning to become something else."
And on that day, the wind over the island grew softer.
Because for the first time, the world had seen a power that didn't seek to destroy,
but to restore choice.