In the early spring of Konoha Year 31, graduation season arrived.
In Konoha, there was no such thing as "graduation equals unemployment"—especially not when a war had already started. For this class, graduation meant being shipped straight to the front lines.
Aburame Tetsumaru had done everything in his power to prepare.
In terms of ninjutsu, he had perfected his comprehensive chakra meridian adjustment method. By comparing it to the data of other techniques, he categorized it as an A-rank cultivation art and named it Ninjutsu Meridian Mastery.
However, because the current version of the technique required the use of Kikaichū to perform the internal "surgeries," it was a path only an Aburame could walk. After much deliberation, Tetsumaru decided not to hand the technique over to the clan.
A brand-new secret art, A-rank in difficulty, capable of altering a ninja's innate talent while massively increasing physical constitution and chakra volume? That was more than enough to trigger greed. If only the Aburame could use it, that greed would turn into lethal jealousy. Tetsumaru was certain that making the technique public would bring a disaster upon his clan that they simply couldn't withstand.
Regarding his insects, Tetsumaru had achieved a massive breakthrough. His "Swarm Plan" was finally moving from theory to reality.
It was staggering. Once he verified that chakra actually possessed the ability to "manifest intent," he began experimenting with the hybridization of germ cells and insect eggs with reckless abandon. To his shock, fifteen percent of the hybrids actually hatched. It was as if "biological isolation" simply didn't exist in this world.
Every successful hybridization experiment sent a chill down Tetsumaru's spine. As a former biology major, the way chakra broke the boundaries between species felt less like science fiction and more like high fantasy.
Worse yet, he could merge species according to his own will. When he wanted a locust to possess the horn of a stag beetle, roughly ten percent of the successfully hatched eggs would yield exactly that.
Good lord. This isn't just a miracle—it's a divine act.
In a stag beetle's genome, the gene fragments responsible for the horn account for less than one-millionth of the total. Even ignoring biological isolation, the probability of successfully grafting that trait onto a locust would normally be one in tens of trillions.
Yet, through a chakra-infused hybridization, he achieved a ten percent success rate. This was true "Reality Warp." It led him to a new hypothesis regarding the nature of chakra, and made the origins of the Otsutsuki Clan even more suspicious. A mere race of "space pirates" didn't seem worthy of possessing such terrifying technology.
If he had to make a comparison, chakra was on par with the "Water Droplet"—the legendary star-killing weapon from The Three-Body Problem. Their technical levels felt disturbingly similar.
The more he thought about it, the more he feared it.
Tetsumaru's reputation remained stellar as the top student from enrollment to graduation.
According to Elder Shiki and the Hokage, the boy was a rare talent. He needed to build merit on the battlefield to "realize his potential" and become a pillar of the village. They insisted his gifts not be wasted.
Tetsumaru had long since adapted to the values of the Shinobi World, but the logic of the Hokage and his elders still made him want to scream.
Waste my potential? Dying is the ultimate waste, you idiots!
But from the Hokage down to the clan elders, it was a settled matter: a ninja's purpose was war. Tetsumaru had no choice but to bow his head. After all, he was living under their roof.
Significant events were unfolding across the Shinobi World.
For Konoha, the most impactful was the Destruction of Uzushiogakure. Konoha's performance during the tragedy was both abysmal and bizarre. There had been no early warning, and when the village was attacked, Konoha sent no reinforcements. Rumors claimed they never received a distress signal.
The inexplicable part? A group of Senju clan ninjas did go to help on their own initiative, only to be wiped out entirely in the Land of Whirlpools. When Konoha finally sent an "official" relief force, they failed to rescue a single member of the Uzumaki clan.
The most damning contrast appeared six months later: when Konoha needed a new Jinchūriki, they managed to "find" and bring back the young, highly talented Kushina Uzumaki with suspicious ease.
The fall of Uzushio had massive repercussions. First and foremost, the widow of the First Hokage, Mito Uzumaki, was devastated. Her health took a sharp turn for the worse, and her resentment toward the Third Hokage ran so deep that she barred everyone from the Sarutobi clan from her sight. Konoha had effectively lost its strongest combatant.
Furthermore, regardless of Sarutobi Hiruzen's excuses, the fact remained that Konoha's staunchest ally had been annihilated. Other allied villages naturally began to doubt Konoha's capability and integrity. For the next few decades, Konoha would never again have a truly loyal ally; every "partner" was now playing both sides.
Take Suna's future cooperation with Orochimaru for the "Konoha Crush." Who knows if they were just so intimidated by a decade of "alliance" that they decided to betray Konoha before Konoha could betray them?
The second major event was the official outbreak of what people were already calling the Second Shinobi World War.
The instigator was the supposed "underdog" of the last war: Amegakure. Under the leadership of Hanzo, Ame ninjas invaded the Land of Iron.
When Tetsumaru saw the intel, his head filled with question marks. The Land of Rain and the Land of Iron didn't even share a border; they were separated by hundreds of miles across the Land of Grass and the Land of Waterfalls.
What kind of 4D-chess move is this?
Samurai and Ninjas had completely different business models. Samurai didn't take mercenary contracts, so there was no direct conflict of interest. Was Hanzo trying to establish a massive exclave a thousand miles away? Or could he just not stand the rain anymore and decided to move everyone to the snowy tundra? What the hell did he want with the Land of Iron?
Regardless, this was the Age of Shinobi. The Samurai were beaten back steadily and forced to beg for help. Because the Land of Iron's neutrality was guaranteed by the Five Great Nations (a guarantee backed by force, not just words), the invasion triggered a collective response.
Konoha and Suna marched directly into the Land of Rain. Kumo and Kiri sent troops to the Land of Iron. Only Iwa's resistance remained purely verbal.
Faced with the combined might of four nations, Hanzo was forced to withdraw. He immediately declared war on Konoha and Suna. Thus began the legendary performance of the "Demi-God."
Back on home turf, Hanzo and his Ame ninjas utilized the terrain and the lethal venom of his giant salamander, Ibuse, to devastating effect. Not only did they hold off the combined might of two Great Villages, but they inflicted massive casualties. Konoha and Suna poured reinforcements into the meat grinder, but they couldn't break Hanzo. Both Kage felt they were losing face on a global scale.
Seeing Ame hold off two giants, Ohnoki—the Third Tsuchikage—wiped the shame from his face and immediately allied with the Rain, sending Iwa troops into Ame to fight Suna and Konoha.
With Iwa in the mix, the young leadership of Suna committed their main force: the Puppet Brigade. Their leader was Chiyo, a master of puppetry, medicine, and poison. She quickly developed an antidote for the salamander's venom. While it wasn't a total cure, it provided thirty minutes of heightened resistance—enough to neuter Hanzo's greatest advantage.
That was all they needed. Ame's ninjas were no match for Suna's elites, and the Sand now outnumbered the Rain several times over. Suna began to sweep the battlefield.
After consulting with Ohnoki, Hanzo decided to consolidate his forces and retreat to the Rain Village itself for a final defense.
Flushed with success after conquering half the Land of Rain, the Suna leadership grew arrogant. Before they had even taken the Rain Village, the Third Kazekage ordered an attack on their "silent ally," Konoha, hoping to claim the entire Land of Rain for Suna.
The ambush caught Konoha completely off guard. Over a thousand Konoha ninjas were encircled and wiped out. The survivors fled back to the Land of Fire in a panicked rout.
Seeing Chiyo's spectacular success, the Third Kazekage couldn't sit still. He personally led a massive army through the Land of Rivers to invade the Land of Fire, coordinating with the forces in the Land of Rain. Suna's strategy had shifted from a multi-front skirmish to an all-out assault on Konoha.
Meanwhile, Kirigakure was acting like a headless octopus. The various clans in the village formed their own chaotic alliances, simultaneously invading the Land of Lightning, the Land of Waves, the Land of Whirlpools, and the Land of Fire. They were effectively at war with Kumo, Konoha, and Suna at the same time.
Rumor had it the Third Mizukage had so little control over his village that he'd coughed up blood in a fit of rage and was currently bedridden. The entire Shinobi World had turned into a pot of boiling chaos.
Only Kumogakure remained withdrawn. The notoriously hot-tempered Third Raikage sat silently in the Land of Lightning, watching the world burn.
Because the Land of Fire was being invaded by Suna from the west and raided by Kiri from the east, the Fire Daimyo was frantic. He sent a flurry of letters to the Hokage, demanding a solution.
Tetsumaru's graduating class was the first to not be assigned Jonin instructors. In wartime, every Jonin was either on the front lines or on their way there.
But failing to even organize the students into squads was a bit much. It was clear the leadership felt the "elites" had already graduated early; the ones left behind were just mediocre filler—pure cannon fodder meant to plug holes in depleted squads at the front.
Thus, 344 students were organized into a massive, over-strength battalion led by a few veteran Chunin and prepared for deployment.
Following tradition, they gathered before departure to receive a dose of the "Will of Fire." Sarutobi Hiruzen, his oratorical skills sharpened by years of practice, smoothly whipped the crowd into a patriotic fervor. The lower-year students were also present; the Hokage never missed a chance to indoctrinate the youth.
Thirty minutes in. The Hokage still had twenty-seven minutes to go. Sigh.
Bored to tears, Tetsumaru kept his eyes closed, using his "Phase 2 Eye of Truth" (a snail-type biological sensor) to scan the surroundings.
Whoa. Finally, some heavy hitters.
In the third-year ranks, he spotted a pair with red and yellow hair. The future Yellow Flash and the Red Hot Habanero. They were only eight—were they already a thing? No, not yet. Minato was clearly hitting on Kushina. You little player.
Since they weren't official yet, it meant the "Kushina Kidnapping" incident hadn't happened. Good luck, Minato.
Then, he spotted a shock of white hair. Jiraiya was here. Was he leading the deployment?
Tetsumaru really didn't want to go to the Rain front. Suna and Ame were both masters of poison, and the constant torrential rain made for a miserable, swampy battlefield. It was his least favorite environment.
But the biggest problem wasn't the rain; it was Hanzo.
Konoha's brass was sending the students early because they needed bodies, but they also judged the situation to be manageable—a good place for "green" troops to get used to war. Tetsumaru knew better. He knew the Land of Rain was a death trap. In the future, Hanzo would single-handedly crush a Konoha army and the Hokage's three students, earning the title of "Demi-God" and bestowing the title of "Sannin" upon his defeated foes.
Right now, Hanzo was just a "powerful" ninja nicknamed "The Salamander." He wasn't a legend yet.
The Land of Rain was being ravaged, but Hanzo was about to forge his reputation in blood. In his past life's memories, the specific battles weren't detailed, but the title "Demi-God" was clearly intended to mirror the "God of Shinobi." If Hashirama was a God for suppressing the world, then Hanzo was a Demi-God for defeating the Three Great Villages.
This meant Hanzo hadn't achieved his greatest feat yet. He hadn't successfully challenged the Five Great Nations.
If the Land of Rain were remote—like the Land of Demons—Hanzo could have won a battle and then sat back in isolation. But Ame was the crossroads of Earth, Wind, and Fire. Its strategic value was too high for the Great Nations to ever let go. Even if their armies were broken, they would just regroup and come back with more men.
Tetsumaru's stomach churned. He could try to dodge this draft, but the backlash for a "Genius" refusing a call to arms would be severe. He'd be forcibly assigned to a suicide mission later, branded a coward, and blacklisted by every commander.
Worse, he knew Hanzo was a monster, but he didn't know exactly when the "Demi-God" battle would happen. With such poor intel, his best bet was to just go with the flow.
I'm not the weakest, and I'm hopefully not the unluckiest. I'm just going to the front to fight for my life. What is there to fear?
Tetsumaru reached into his pouch and touched a "Flight-Locust." The cold, metallic feel of the insect's head helped steady his nerves.
He was terrified.
The root of his fear, he realized, was that he had no reason to fight. What was he risking his life for?
On a grand scale? For the Land of Fire? For Konoha?
Don't make me laugh. As the old saying goes: What does the Emperor's power have to do with me? The Konoha led by the Third had done nothing for the Aburame or for Tetsumaru's family. Fighting for Hashirama's Konoha made sense. Even Tobirama's. But Hiruzen? What makes you think you're worth dying for?
On a smaller scale? For his clan and his parents?
That was a valid reason. He owed them for raising him; giving his life in return was a fair trade. But Tetsumaru didn't trust the leadership. He didn't believe winning the war would make his parents' lives better or bring prosperity to his clan. Konoha had won the last war, and his clan had still ended up hungry and broken.
Tetsumaru wasn't a war-monger or a hothead. He didn't care about glory or wealth—those were just clouds in the wind. He only cared that if he died, his home would fall apart. He was a draftee being dragged to the slaughter, and like any "cannon fodder," he was scared to death.
Amidst his anxiety, the Hokage's speech finally ended.