In times of chaos, one's first and only priority must be towards his people. No matter what the cost.

Uzamaki Naruto- Sixth Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves

Men of power are usually said to be men of dignity. Nobility seems to come with a fortunate stereotypical sense of perfection. Commoners judge themselves by the status of higher powers, intentionally or not. From this comes a commoner's perception of responsibility. These powerful men, no matter their intelligence, no matter their allegiance or moral standards, as long as they hold power are required by their lower counterparts to keep the peace. At least, that's the way it should be. And so was the case so many years ago in the Village Hidden in the Smoke.

Four figures sit around a round table, their faces shadowed by an impenetrable darkness. They are all clothed in bleak, blinding white robes that hang down past the knees. Thick gray beards curl from their chins, and long, uncut fingernails tap restlessly on the table. " You can understand my concern Dosuku-san" remarks one of the men in ancient tones.

"Indeed" nodded a second. "We all can. This battle between ourselves: mere mortals, of elderly age and withering power, can no longer stand up to the awesome strength of the demons at our doorstep. Something must be done...it must be ended, once and for all" came his resounding voice. A mumble of agreement came from two of the other figures. A third remained motionless, his hand slowly curling into a fist.

"I have seen many shinobi lose their lives fighting our battle. Many innocent civilians perish at the hands of unkillable beings of destruction. And we, the Council of the Village Hidden in the Smoke has done what? Nothing. Or rather, our fearless and invicible leader has done nothing!" the second voice continued, raising a gnarled finger in the direction of the silent man. "You have sat by and watched with cold eyes the fate your people have suffered at the hands of these...monsters. YOU have tried to hold back our wishes of directly confronting these evils by means of force, instead opting for a path of peace."

"Peace!" spat the other two figures angrily. The one silent member continued to stare into the void, not making a sound.

"You don't wish to defend yourself? Understandable. I too would be ashamed of my actions if I was in your position" smirked the accusing soul. He, looked at the ceiling, closed his eyes, letting the darkness meld with them, then took a deep breath before continuing. "Thus, we have decided, for the sake of the Smoke Village..."

The quiet figure suddenly snapped to attention, his eyes widening. "Gorobi! You wouldn't!"

"..that you have been replaced, as the leader of the High Council. Your actions have officially been nulled. Your voice in this office counts for nothing. Hereforth..."

To the horror of the one called Dosuku, the three other figures stood, arms raised towards the man called Gorobi. "I am now the leader of the Council! Gorobi Mishimaka!" he lowered his gaze to the stunned Gorobi's level, sinister eyes piercing through the shadows. "And my first act as High Leader..." He drew a dagger from the confines of his robes and slammed it down on the tabel in front of him. "...is to declare WAR on the demons attacking our village!"

Dosuku gasped and fell back clutching his frail heart, veiny hands gripping at his chest. "N..no!"

Gorobi grinned malevolently. "We attack at dawn. Goodbye old friend. It is time we went our seperate ways" The old man ran. Heart pounding, Head swimming, he ran. The laughter of what he believed to be devils themselves followed him all the way out of the sanctuary. There was a decision to be made.

The rain came down in thick, round droplets. It splashed on the streets and flowed down the roads like miniature rivers. The tiger Thunder roared from above, sending the mares of Lightning streaking across the sky. The stars were hidden behind murky gray blankets. Only a moon in the shape of a frown sparkled through the gloom. It were as though the gods were crying. Dosuku had not wasted any time. His feet pounded the drenched street sending up cascades of water with every thundering step.

He rounded a corner, his ankle seemed to buckle from the sudden pressure. He wobbled for a moment. The pain was intense, but not for an instant did he stop. He switched feet then continued his journey. His breathing became hard and erratic. His chest heaved uncontrollably. A man his age should not be out at this hour, running headlong through a thunderstorm. But he was a man on a mission. He had a job to do, and it must be done tonight.

Suddenly, his destination was in view. He approached it panting, his hand reaching out to the oaken door to steady himself, his feeble hands quivering under the stress. With an enormous amount of effort, he raised his free hand, then pounded once, twice, three times on the door. "Higoto...Higoto!" he rasped dryly.

For a moment, there was nothing. The steady pitter patter of the watery tears being his only reply. Then, the door seemed to creak open, a small space appearing between the door and the outside of the diminuitive house. "Who's there?" came a voice. Dosuku's could only cough in return. "Dosuku? Is that you? What on earth are you doing outside at this hour? Quickly, come inside, quickly now, come on" The door opened wide, and an ushering hand grabbed Dosuku by the wrist and led him into the house.

As soon as the old man was inside, his legs gave way, falling into the arms of his provider. "I...need it. We...need it" he groaned painfully. His hand was shaking as it tried to grip onto his old friend's shirt. The man named Higoto's face became incredulous. "What? When?" he questioned.

The old man coughed into his fist, his whole body shaking violently. "...now my friend.."

"But...but" Higoto stuttered. "I haven't fully completed the summmoning stage. If we awaken it now, we'd recquire a sacrifice. A blood sacrifice. We have none Dosuku! How can we complete the..." Higoto stopped in mid sentence as he noticed a slow smile come to the old man's face. Suddenly, Higoto felt something sliding through his fingers. At first, he believed it to be rain water, dripping from Dosuku's hair. Then he realized something. It was warm. And thick. He gasped and held him with one hand, raising the other to look at it. It was red.

"No! Dosuku! What have you done?" he screamed. The old man closed his eyes, and let his hand drop. A blood stained dagger, the one from the room, clattered noiselessly to the floor.

"You better hurry my friend. I knew you'd never consent to using the body of anyone except your own. Please...use me quickly. While the chakra still flows through my blood. We have to to do this Higoto. Now. Please...for the sake of our people.." his voice seemed to trail off...merging with the pitter patter of the raindrops. Merging with the raindrops and the tears of the friend that held him. "Don't...let me down Higoto. Save...our people..." with one final smile, the old man's eyes closed, his body going limp in Higoto's arms.

Higoto fell to his knees. He gently passed a hand over Dosuku's face, uttering words of passage into the afterlife for his friend. He took off his shirt, and wiped the the blood from the corner's of the old man's mouth and head. "I...I won't fail you" Higoto stuttered. With shaky knees, he stood, and made his way through the darkness, his hands groping in the shadows.

Finally, they came to rest on a piece of brilliantly white cloth. His fingers wrapped around the sheet, five red marks staining the whiteness. A monstrous figure was hidden underneath the sheet, the outline of a nose, eyes, chin, and forehead clearly visible. "I won't"

(And that's part One of the Prologue! I will proceed to do part Two tomorrow, then the prologue for Red Horizon the following day...Thanks for the support everyone!)

For best effects, this story should be read in tandem with it's sister "Red Horizon"

Every chapter corresponds to the other (except the prologues) and interacts with each other