Sasuke POV
Everything is packed. Food, water, weapons, clothes. All sealed into scrolls, efficient and light. Enough to last for months, maybe longer if I ration carefully.
I am ready to leave.
It is impulsive, and I know it. Part of me whispers that I should wait. Train longer. Sharpen my skills further before stepping into an unknown world. But hesitation is a disease. If I keep waiting until I feel "ready," I will never move forward.
Risk is opportunity. That is something I have to learn to embrace. The greater the risk, the greater the change. And sometimes, one choice can alter everything: future, destiny, the very path ahead.
Still, the danger is real. Another world means unpredictable threats. Will the air sustain me? Will the organisms reject me? What about disease, viruses, or environments my body is not prepared for? Even the smallest miscalculation could kill me.
And yet, if I do not take this step now, then when? If I stop myself here, I will only grow weaker. Fear will rule me. And I refuse to be ruled by fear.
Sigh. Enough hesitation. My path is forward. Whatever waits on the other side, I will face it head-on.
Let's do this.
I hold the travelling card in my hand, drawing a steady breath before activating it.
"..."
The world twists. Instinct sharpens. Kunai already slip into my palms, and my three-tomoe Sharingan spins alive, dissecting every fragment of this new environment. Every flicker of shadow, every current of wind, nothing escapes me.
A bitter thought lingers. My eyes can evolve further, but only when I erase every last doubt. In the memory, I watched myself kill Itachi. But was that truth, or just a fragment the world wanted me to believe? It was enough to reach three tomoe, but if I want the Mangekyō, I need to know. I need to see his blood on my hands with my own eyes. Only then will hesitation die.
I blink, grounding myself. The first thing I notice is solid earth beneath me. Good. Had I appeared in open water, survival would have been far more troublesome. Fortune favours me this once.
Without hesitation, my hands blur through seals. Four shadow clones snap into existence and dart away, scattering like shadows on the wind.
Information first. Always information.
Who rules this land.
Where I can vanish unseen.
Where I can train, feed, and sharpen my edge.
Every piece matters. My survival depends on it.
I do not linger. A single flicker step carries me off the open ground and into cover. Being exposed is an invitation to predators, and I have no idea what sort of hunters roam here. Best to assume the worst.
The jungle swallows me whole. Branches lash at my arms, thick undergrowth tears at my legs, and in the distance, guttural roars roll like thunder. Something massive stalks out there. Many somethings.
Then the first feedback hits. One clone's memories slam into me.
A stream. Clear, flowing water. At first glance, salvation. But water in the wild always belongs to someone. And sure enough…
The clone saw it. A tiger the size of a carriage, forty feet from nose to tail, its striped body thrashing, claws raking the air. But the proud beast was not hunting. It was prey.
Tentacles erupted from the black depths, slick and glistening with slime. They coiled around the tiger's torso with bone-crushing force, dragging it beneath the surface. The beast thrashed, claws raking, fangs snapping, but it was useless. Inch by inch, it disappeared into the water. No body surfaced. No trace remained.
The clone dissolved into mist.
Hidden in the brush, I let out a slow breath, then my spine stiffened. Instinct screamed. The Sharingan spun to life, and the world slowed. A bamboo-thick leg stabbed through where I had been standing an instant before, spearing the earth with a violent crack.
A massive arachnid towered above, its legs long and segmented like sharpened bamboo poles. My eyes narrowed.
I dodged again, Body Flicker blurring me out of reach as two more legs scythed down. The speed was sharp, but predictable. Its movements were sloppy. Genin-level. Dangerous only to fools who get caught by surprise.
It was an assassin type. One strike, one kill. But once its ambush failed, the advantage was mine.
"Shadow Clone."
Another me burst into existence, rushing forward to draw its attention. I circled, kunai flashing in my grip. One slash, metal screeched against chitin, severing a leg cleanly.
The monster shrieked. Its voice was high, piercing, furious.
I did not slow down. Another slash. Another leg hit the ground. Black ichor splattered across the dirt, sizzling faintly where it landed.
Three legs gone, and still it fought, lunging with the rest, pain ignored.
Persistent.
But persistence is not enough.
Above, my clone had already positioned itself high in the branches. A sharp crackle of chakra filled the air, blue-white light flaring. The clone leapt, arm cocked back, lightning singing in his hand.
"Chidori."
Not perfect. Not refined. But enough.
The strike drove straight into the monster's face, piercing through its cluster of eyes. Blood and mucus exploded outward, splattering bark and stone. The ground shook with a heavy thud as the arachnid collapsed, spasming once before going still.
I stood over it, chest rising and falling. Its head was a ruin of shredded flesh, oozing black sludge.
"Dead."
I wiped the kunai clean. The Sharingan faded, but my guard stayed up. In this place, one victory meant nothing. Another predator was always waiting.
*********
Will Genjutsu work on non chakra person?