Otsutsuki Black Zetsu's freaky face freezes. Those piss-yellow, inhuman eyes shrink to pinpricks, locked on a lightning bolt ripping the horizon like God's own middle finger.
Too fast. Too angry. Trail burns the sky—clouds screaming, air howling. Judgment spear from the heavens.
Too familiar.
TOO. FUCKING. FAMILIAR.
Black Zetsu—puppet master of a thousand years, the sicko who orchestrated Indra vs. Asura, the shadow that sweet-talked Madara—its ancient brain just blue-screened.
"Impossible…" Raspy croak, body shaking.
"That vibe… that sight… HOW?!"
"Not Dad. Too weak. Scale's off, color's wrong… but the feel…"
"WHO THE FUCK IS THIS KID?!"
Meanwhile, Makoto's a blue comet streaking through the void, lightning armor cranked to 11. Ears popping, focus laser on the rescue—Nonou's clock is ticking.
Corner of his eye catches a twisted black blob and those glowing what the hell eyes staring hard.
"Otsutsuki Incense Burner? Why's this creep eye-fucking me? Do I know him?"
No time. Nonou's in deep shit. He juices the throttle—BOOM—gone in a blue flash.
Below, Black Zetsu's neck creaks like a rusted hinge, tracking the vanish. Brain melting.
A thousand years ago? That lightning was apocalypse. This? Diet version. But the DNA pings.
"Dad's lost bloodline? Or… something new?"
Its plot—free Mom from the moon—just got a wild card. Head spins 180°, staring at the hazy moon like a psycho.
"Mom… 1,000+ years… hold tight. I'll get you out."
Northwest Water Country, Mist border—blood fog forest.
Air's thick with rust and death. Moonlight barely sneaks through the canopy, painting a hidden ravine in ghost light.
Blood stench chokes. Killing floor vibes.
Nonou's back against slimy rock, breathing ragged. Golden hair—sunlight in a nightmare—sticks to blood and sweat. Still radiant. War-damaged angel.
Eyes? Crystal clear. Worry, steel, and a flicker of I don't wanna die.
Yakushi Nonou. Walking shrine maiden. Spy so good villages shit bricks. Now? Cornered like a rat.
Body? Lethal. Hourglass carved by gods—tits defying gravity even under torn ninja gear, waist you could span with two hands, hips that lie. Clothes plain? Still serves forbidden librarian realness.
Half-year ago, Danzo dangled orphan smiles like bait. Sent her into Blood Mist hell.
Mission creep: from intel scraps to steal the Fourth Mizukage's diary. Suicide.
She knew she was expendable. Knew too much. Kids in Konoha? Her leash.
But plot twist—she nailed it. Snagged dirt so hot it'd nuke the ninja world.
About to send it… Mist ANBU materialized. Ambush. Cut off. Surrounded by silent, masked death.
Kids she secretly adopted? Bait. Huddled in a crevice, starving, crying, staring at her like she's Jesus.
Nonou's heart shatters. Can't breathe.
Live capture? Endless torture. Brain-pick jutsu. Kids in Konoha? Dead.
Fight? With toddlers? LOL.
Rage, despair—rare for her. Will of Fire? Cold joke.
She smothers it. Eyes go glacial.
Smile blooms—sad, stunning. Udumbara flower on a cliff. Doomed beauty.
Life flashes: orphan, Root tool, dean pouring love into kids like her. Never lived for herself.
"Next life… don't be human. Too tired."
But duty. One last spark.
Let the kids live.
Fingers slip into sleeve—custom explosive tag. Big boom.
Game over.