Ello there! It appears I'm active again, finally!
This fic has been playing on my mind a bit, but fear not, updates are on the way for my other fics too!
My Naruto/Avatar:The Last Airbender crossover has another chapter nearing completion, and soon after I will dive headfirst into trying to maintain a steady pace.

Please do me a favour and give your opinion on my OC as I go, I've had a tendency to stray away from this sort of fic recently, so I really have no idea how I'm doing. Am I focussing too much on my OC at the moment? That will shift soon once he meets the main cast.
Is his power level about right?
Does the small amount of information I've provided on who he is and his background make sense?

Apologies for the fact that my OC seems to be referred to in such vague annoying terms until later in the chapter, but I wanted to maintain his lack of identity for a short while.

Disclaimer: I, ShadowWolfX51, do not own Naruto, or any other franchises that may rear their heads throughout this fanfiction. If the owners of all these franchises would kindly donate them to me I will happily accept them, and maybe even pay them back in half of an imaginary cookie each.

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All it took to change the fate of the God of Ame was one simple, unexpected anomaly. One freak moment, in which something impossible seemed to occur.

From that single unusual instant, Pein, the wielder of the legendary Rinnegan, was given a greater role in the fate of the world in addition to a new ally stood alongside him.

The event that led to this change was a simple distortion, a crack that boomed like thunder and revealed a body soaring through the air, arms flailing as it travelled parallel to the forest below, before eventually losing enough altitude that it began to encounter branch after tree after branch.

The disturbance in the forest caused the avian wildlife to caw and scream bloody murder as the figure hit the floor, tumbling and skidding before finally coming to rest at the bottom of a hill, covered in wounds and soaked to the bone due to the storm currently raging.

For a short while, crows in the area dive-bombed the unconscious figure, but soon lost interest. The figure lay like this, breathing shallow and blood flowing freely until the next morning when the storm finally broke.

-|~o

"Hmm. A crack of thunder, and extensive damage to the forest you say?" The powerful leader pored over the scouting report in front of him. He looked from the scroll to the young teenage scout ahead of him, and then back at the report.

"You were right to make haste with this report. Whilst investigating further may have been courageous, it would also be unwise for a fresh graduate with few noteworthy jutsu." The young scout bowed to the leader of the village.

"You're useful. Young, but useful. I expect you will make good progress. Increase your speed and strength, I need more scouts like you."

"Y-yes Hanzo-sama!" Hanzo the Salamander dismissed the genin with a quick gesture, before using another to bring out one of the various guards hidden around the room.

"Whoever this 'mystery intruder' is, I see no reason for them to be damaging the local scenery if they were taking a stealth approach. Maybe a battle took place before two foes, or maybe an un-aligned Shinobi that has gone under the radar for too long decided to push themselves in an intense training session. Whatever the situation, I expect that the cause of this disturbance to be brought in before the week's end. Alive."

The masked ninja stood stock still in front of the legendary leader, memorizing the details on the scroll. Silence reigned for a good minute.

"Take a team if you must. Dismissed."

The guard bowed deeply and uttered a quick "Hanzo-sama" before departing.

-|~o

The male lay at the foot of the tree, slowly drying off in the morning sun as he lay unconscious. One would guess the boy to be in his late teens, and he had obviously suffered from some kind of grievous attack recently. His shaggy black hair was covered in dirt, and he sported various scrapes and cuts across his face along with a broken nose and a busted lip. He wore a tattered high-collared blue jacket with white trim, and most of the right sleeve had been burnt off. This revealed that his right arm was covered in strange, silver-coloured burnt skin. He also wore a white thin tunic and black pants, along with an odd silver pendant around his neck, which appeared to be a musical note over a cross.

There was nothing else notable about the man at first sight, except for his reasonable height. Under his clothing one might see a mess of bruises and signs of internal bleeding, but thankfully his clothes had survived the battle.

His eyes gradually fluttered open as he became aware of the intense throbbing throughout most of his body. It seemed particularly intense over his right arm, and his left ankle was also hurting something fierce. Neither bothered him too much at this moment, though, due to the sight of leaves overhead implying that he had very much survived the encounter.

He lay like this, unmoving, for several minutes, recovering his energy and waiting for the world to stop spinning. It was only then that he began to make good use of the nearby tree whilst making his way back to his feet. The pain in his left ankle made him grimace, in turn re-opening the cut on his lip, and he licked at the wound as he staggered away in the direction he had apparently come from.

Walking with a pronounced limp, it took him several minutes to make it up the small hill and find where he landed. It took a little searching, but he soon spotted his sword, embedded several feet up in a sturdy tree. A raven sat upon the handle of the weapon, which turned to him and let off an odd croak before flying away.

"Seriously?" He asked no one in particular, as he grasped the hilt with his left hand. His right hurt too much to even attempt to use. If he were to be attacked right now, he'd have little chance of surviving. With a heave, he yanked the blade free, revealing the slightly curved cavalry saber. The blade had a soft blue tint to its colour and the ornate handguard was smeared with dirt. Additionally, a thick pommel designed to look like a claw of some kind wrapped around a blue jewel.

The sheath for his favourite weapon was nowhere in sight, but that could easily be replaced.

Finally whole again, the injured figure began to hobble off in a random direction. He briefly considered healing himself, but with the meagre amount of energy he had left he thought it best to endure the pain and conserve that energy for defence. Once he found food and had a good night's rest he'd focus on healing himself when he knew he had the energy to spare.

After staggering through the forest for around an hour, he came across a bush with berries that looked safe enough to eat, and he was unable to stop himself from dropping to his knees, desperately shoving the sweet berries into his mouth and groaning at the taste.

It was only after clearing most of the bush and eating his fill that he let a smile grace his face. A short laugh burst free from his lips but was interrupted by the one sound he didn't want to hear.

There was a slight rustle from one of the nearby trees, which alone would be no reason for concern. That rustle, however, was purposely made in order to hide the faint sound of metal clinking. He almost dismissed it as his imagination, but a similar rustle from another tree gave way to that cold, familiar clenching in his gut that usually told him, metaphorically, of course, shit was about to hit the fan.

The knuckles on his left hand went white as he clenched his sword and cursed his right feeling too weak to swing the heavy blade. Apparently, this subtle movement was enough to clue his attackers into his awareness of them, but thankfully there was no immediate attack.

"Drop your weapon, hold your arms out at your sides and come with us. We have been ordered to take you to our leader alive. Do as we say and you will not be harmed."

In hindsight, the first of our protagonists realised that he probably should have just listened and gone with the hidden warriors in the start. However, at that moment, his heart was hammering and his mind dull with pain, apparently the switch within him got stuck between both 'fight' and 'flight', and so instead of making a rational decision he chose to face the unseen warriors of one of the dreariest countries in the Elemental Nations.

-|~o

"Man! That was intense." An orange-haired teen leaned on a nearby wall, gulping down a flask of water and hardly restraining his own chuckles.

The group that made up the current 'Akatsuki' gathered in a small hideout. They were but a mere fraction of what they would be in the future, only assembled and named several years ago, but their idea was rapidly gaining clout among the citizens of Ame. Rumour had it that even the great Salamander himself was fond of their idea, up until around a year ago that is. He had become increasingly intolerant as of late, but there was still hope that he would buy into their idea. The idea of peace.

Peace, but not through violence. Peace through diplomacy, through liaising with a foe and coming to an agreement. Though in a world full of ninja, every one of them trained to fight, for the diplomatic approach would not work every time, but it was always the first approach of the Akatsuki.

Akatsuki had just finished communicating with a few teams of freshly graduated Genin, and even their Jounin instructors found the idea extremely intriguing. They had wanted proof of the Akatsuki's ability to back up their dreams when diplomacy failed, and so a series of spars had taken place.

Obviously, all three were holding back to some degree, as Nagato was trying to avoid showing the powers of his Rinnegan (most of which he'd only recently started to figure out how to use) and Konan's distinctive paper style would draw a lot of attention. And so Yahiko, being the well-rounded ninjutsu/kenjutsu user, had done the lion's share of the work.

It had taken a lot out of the youths, but three teenagers being able to consistently take down two Jounin at a time when sparring throughout the day had helped sell the idea to them. All of the Jounin involved saw the potential in Yahiko, Nagato, and Konan, as taking on Jounin at that age, even if it were three-to-two, was not an easy task. In the end, several of the Jounin had even given their word that they would happily provide a hand free of charge on Akatsuki missions if they needed extra numbers, though the majority wanted payment. Ah, the joys of living in a village built around a mercenary system.

It didn't exactly counterbalance the fact that Hanzo and his forces on a whole had been becoming increasingly intolerant of the Akatsuki when they had been extremely accepting only a year ago, but it showed that interest in their dream of peace was not completely dead.

"Yahiko." Konan's voice grabbed his attention, and he placed his cup down. He looked to his childhood friend. Rain dripped from her hair and clothes, soon making a small puddle on the floor. "What is it? Recruits?"

"No. There's something interesting going on. You might want to see this." He pushed off from the wall and followed her outside, where Nagato stood awaiting the two.

"Check this out. Who do you think he is? A missing ninja? He couldn't be a normal criminal, I mean look at the damage he's done."

The eighteen-year-olds all observed a man being brought in by three members of one of Hanzo's elite squads. Considering those squads operated in fours, it made for an odd sight.

The individual being escorted was heavily injured, some of the wounds seemingly days old and others brand new. The squad escorting him seemed to be in pretty rough shape, with some littered in cuts and bruises, and the odd burn could be spotted if one looked hard enough. The one at the front was carrying a weapon that obviously belonged to the stranger, as the sword design was one very rarely used in the Elemental nations.

-Several hours ago

The injured stranger kicked off with a pretty decent level of speed, and the hidden figures in the trees quickly engaged in pursuit. Their target was an odd one. Despite his obvious injuries, he moved at speeds one would expect from a taijutsu-focused Genin or the average Chunin. Now this, whilst not overly concerning in itself, was backed up by the fact that he did it without using any chakra. Now, just to make the situation a little more unusual, he ran on the floor instead of tree-hopping. None of this was extraordinary, but it as still a tad unusual, and with the injuries the man had they would expect him to use chakra to increase his speed.

With our injured stranger, he pumped his feet as hard as he could, struggling to maintain a decent pace due to the pain in his ankle, but he persevered. He had no clue where he was, so at this point, he was just darting in random directions and hoping to find a game-changer. A change in the layout of the land that he could use to surprise those following him.

The sound of something whistling through the air gave him very little time to avoid the thrown weapons, which he did by rolling to the side, bringing his blade up whilst inwardly screaming at the contact the roll forced his right arm to endure. He was just in time to meet a second salvo of shuriken, but his awkwardness with his left arm meant that he was only able to deflect the majority of the weapons aimed at his torso, and took a few light cuts across his arms and legs for the trouble.

He made to dart off again but was interrupted by one of the assailants in a jumpsuit and body armour leaping at him from the branches of a nearby tree. In retaliation, he muttered a quick incantation and threw his right arm out towards the man, unleashing a small gout of flame towards him. It did no harm to the assailant, as he quickly retreated, but it gave the swordsman enough time to start running again. He couldn't use the brief reprieve to get a great headstart, though, as the mere action of using his right arm caused enough pain to make his first few steps little more than a stagger.

'Shit, using shuriken and sticking to the shadows? They...They can't be Blades, can they? Why would Blades want to take me!'

It was only after another minute of running that he decided these attackers were definitely not Blades.

He twisted and turned, narrowly avoiding another shuriken. The man came close to slipping in the mud, but he quickly pushed off, only just managing to leap up to the ten-foot rock formation by the river. There! On the other side of the river was a large enough clearing for him to prepare properly for his pursuers.

The river must have only been around eighteen feet wide, but in his injured state it seemed more like a vast chasm. He heaved himself from atop the rock, soaring for a brief instant but racked with pain from the strain on his ankle.

Running on a mix of trained instinct and guesswork, he expected one of the pursuers to take advantage of his exposed position in the air and shouted a basic incantation. Waving his right hand again, he threw a thick stream of flames over his shoulder and heard a man cry out.

Crashing into the ground just clear of the riverbank, the man realised too late that his left leg wouldn't take the weight, and he tumbled across the clearing, mud covering a large portion of his body.

Laying there as he waited for the throbbing to calm and the world to stop spinning, an odd thought came to him. Maybe these warriors were from the eastern lands? There were supposedly none in this land, but that didn't mean their presence was impossible, but why would they want hi-...

His train of thought stopped when he had been preparing to stand and throw out another spell.

He finally took note of what energy was available to him, and realised that even if he dismissed the amount he should have burned using a few weak spells, he had not recovered even a dash of his power between the fight, however long he had been unconscious and after eating the berries. Even without extra food, the rest should have allowed his body to regenerate a nice chunk of Magicka, the energy he had become accustomed to.

That meant that his body was no longer producing such an energy source, and the implications of that fact made his blood run cold.

'No...Shit, no!'

The stranger growled and leapt straight up despite the pain.

He had mere seconds before his attackers arrived. The trees seemed pretty normal, if a little large.

The sun looked like a normal sun. The air tasted clean, fresh from the previous night's storm. Nothing struck him as a glaringly unusual.

Hefting his sword into the best position he could manage with only his off-hand available, he observed his attackers, for he didn't have to wait, they arrived at the same time as he stood up.

He drank in their appearances with wide, shocked eyes. Armoured vests, ninjatos, and worst of all were the forehead protectors displayed proudly on all four of the warriors.

'Forehead protectors. Shiny metal damn forehead protectors! They're chakra wielding Shinobi!'

'Galein Musica, what the hell have you gotten yourself into!'

He quickly wracked the depths of his brain for any information that could help him, but he found little more than the knowledge that the four ninjas were obviously from Amegakure.

Galein knew without a doubt that he was going to be captured, but that didn't stop him from fighting back. The list of idiotic things he did that day only continued to grow.

The female ninja of the group was upon him faster than he had any hope of moving without some sort of enhancement. Her ninjato flashed through the air, and through some stroke of luck, he managed to get his saber up in time. His blade was much sturdier, and he managed to deflect her blow before driving the pommel of his blade into her jaw. A distinct crack sounded, and he couldn't help but wince at seeing it wasn't her mask that made the sound.

He didn't have a second to step back and prepare, as a roundhouse kick slammed into his ribs right after he made contact, staggering the Musica. He brought his blade down next to him in response, biting deeply into the thigh of the retreating leg and then throwing his weight into shoulder-checking the man off his feet.

The next thing he knew, his world went white-hot as blinding pain smothered his senses. Galein couldn't even tell if he screamed or not, the world just span and went dark as the female ninja grabbed his injured arm and twisted as she jumped, slamming one kick into his head followed by another to the chest. He was unconscious before he even hit the dirt.

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--|~o

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I've decided to split the chapter here so that the first chapter doesn't become a gigantic wall of text. The next chapter is around halfway done, and so it should be up within a few days.

Enjoy folks, I'm jumping on the OC/Semi-SI train!