A/N: I apologize to anyone just seeing this chapter. I've been trying to upload it for awhile but fanfiction was giving me an error message. I'm under the impression no email notifications went out, nor was the site notified of the new chapter. It kinda just slipped in under everything. Hopefully it will all be fixed by next release.

Ch 21

Heist

There were no objections. Perhaps a bit of hesitation in the form of figuring out what Tanoshimi's goal was in suggesting him for the task, but no objections. After his conversation with her on the train, there were plenty of stray thoughts flying through his head. It allowed him see the internal struggle he had been suppressing. It provided answers for a circumstance that bothered him for years, while at the same time raising new questions. The most prominent one of all was what he planned on doing with himself and his life. He battled with what the purpose of his existence was, or rather, what he would make of it. Tanoshimi's words were needles of acupuncture piercing into the pressure points of Hensō's mind. She made him realize he had absolutely no place in the world from the moment he was born. The conclusion of that conversation was when he decided he had no choice but to create one for himself. With the knowledge he was granted and the perspective he was given, he knew exactly where to start.

Hensō didn't stay to eat breakfast with the group. When they sat at the table in the dining hall and were having their meals served to them, he only opened his mouth once. That was to ask where the ambassadors were thought to be at the moment. The Lord Kigawa stated they had stayed the night and left about an hour before his group arrived. Hensō wasted no time.

Bronzed grains of sand danced in between gusts of wind, billowing Hensō's cloak as he sat perched at the ledge of a steep, rocky slope. One of his legs were tucked close to him. The other hung over and knocked patches of dirt and pebbles into the valley beneath from the repetition of his heel tapping the cliff side. It was a jagged fall, about one hundred meters in altitude. The feet of the cliffs on both sides branched off into a sloped hill with sparse vegetation, then was artificially flattened out at the bottom. This was to accommodate the passage of trains, and there was a track that cut through the grooves of the rocks.

Hensō was somewhere along the eastern border between the Rivers country and the Wind country. Figuring out where his targets would be located wasn't of much difficulty to him either. He was informed that information regarding them would be kept confidential at the train station, but he was not hindered. With knowledge that Sunagakure was due east, he focused his sensory abilities in that direction. Hensō moved like a ghost with this ability without moving at all. He was in the darkness of his mind again, rushing forwards, twisting and turning, passing by a blur, other humanoid constructs of blue flame. For a few seconds there was nothing, just a black vacancy, and when he opened his eyes again he had transitioned himself into the forest about 30 km east. He went back into his mind and searched, continually sending himself another 30 km within a split second until he detected an abnormality. Somewhere out in the distance, there was a congregation of chakras all moving together at the same velocity. Hensō wasn't positive that it was what he was looking for, but it was worth a shot. Of course, if it wasn't he'd just try again. Deciding to side with his instincts led him to that ledge, awaiting the arrival of the train. However, he grew tired this and decided to bide the time by occupying himself with a meal.

Hensō placed his bento box to the side when the roaring horn of a locomotive was heard in the distance. He turned his head west in its direction and within a few seconds, was able to see it approaching. The time was around 2:30 p.m. which he had predicted. Waiting that long was necessary; what he was about to do would be too suspicious if done in Rivers territory. The masked one rose from his prolonged seat after partially covering his bento box and tilted off the edge of the cliff. It was a straight descent down until the slope caught up with him, and he had to plant his feet in leaps in order to make it in one piece. As the seconds passed, he could hear with more clarity. The continuous hissing of an engine and the steady chugging of the wheels against the tracks increased in volume. Hensō stood in the center of the rail now, and when the train rounded a curve, the conductor was able to see him. The horn blared off again, this time not as routine, but as a warning call to the dark figure in the vehicle's path. The horn blared twice in a row and with its shortening distance, the sound grew more intense. The frequency of the waves were tighter. They hammered Hensō's eardrums and broke over his mask like gusts of wind. The last horn sounded, and the vibrations rattled his body. He could hear screeching. The conductor was trying to decelerate, but both he and Hensō knew it was too sudden of a stop. If Hensō didn't move, he'd be a difficult, bloody stain of meat to scrub off. That was unless the train was able to move instead.

After forming the boar and snake seals respectively, Hensō planted his hands in the stone between a section of rail and dug his fingers into the ground. Chakra streamlined into the earth and a tremor rattled.

"Earth Release: Earth-Style Rampart…"

Just meters before Hensō and the train collided, the base of the valley split across the middle, coughing up a cloud of displaced dirt. His view of the machine vanished into the air and was replaced by a rumbling wall of rising sediment layers peeling up into an incline.

Hensō stood to his feet and tilted his head upward. A shadow loomed over him, and he felt a shower of pebble-sized, earthen debris pelt his robes. Even though they were gliding off the track and the edge of the unnatural ramp, the wheel mechanisms underneath the train cars were still functioning. Hensō watched the machine in its arch over his head. Then came the spine chilling crash of the anterior end colliding with the ground, coupled with shattered glass projectiles and the grating bends of metal as it was crushed underneath the vertical weight of the rest of the train. The first car became an anchor. The five succeeding it became chain links that rattled between the cliff sides of the valley and disturbed more rock. Eventually the links detached and their momentum sent them forward. They tossed and turned like dented, mangled tin cans unshelved from an aisle but with thunderous impacts. Each came to a grinding halt as friction between them and plowed up stone forced them to stop.

Dirt settled from the destruction and sparks of electrical wire flashed every once in awhile. Hensō began his pace towards the carnage he created. He looked to his left as he passed the first car to strike the ground. The front side was squashed down in layers like a sandwich, resting vertically on its face. The engine had caught fire, and oil was leaking from a protruding pipe. He pushed it down on its side and checked it for any signs of what he was looking for. Nothing but the bodies of engineer crew members and the conductor. Hensō did this for each car as he made his way through. The few severely injured survivors that remained were startled when his steps creaked into the metal flooring. When they saw his mask, they cowered in fear. Most of those that could move hugged the walls to ensure they were out of his way, and Hensō paid little attention to the bloodied denizens.

Eventually, Hensō's search brought him to the second to last rail car. It resembled a hallway, similar to the design of the Kusa train, and an empty door frame leading into a bedroom. The door itself was unhinged, and Hensō stepped past it on his way in. The room looked as though it was tossed into a blender for a minute. Fragments of wooden furniture were scattered across the dented floor and a mattress was leaned against the wall. The bedframe was close by but in pieces, and a damaged ceiling fan dangled on a sturdy wire. In the corner was a steel-clad briefcase about the size of Hensō's torso. There was a padded lock that sealed it shut, and it was the only thing in the area that wasn't wrecked. There was coat of chakra surrounding the object that was made perceivable by Hensō's eyes as he approached. This must be it.

"You…s-stop right there," a shaky voice called from behind.

Hensō halted in his tracks and turned to see the man behind him. He stood in the doorframe with his right hand pressed against it and providing him support. In his left were a pair of scrolls. "You wouldn't happen to have the key for this, would you?"

"Shut your mouth," the man snarled.

He possessed purple facepaint designs and wore a drab black attire. Hensō could tell that he was prepping his chakra for battle, but it was clear to them both that the man was in no such condition. Blood stained his clothing, and there were several leaking gashes that mixed with the paint on his skin. His breathing was irregular and his lungs weren't expanding properly, indicative of rib fractures. The man flinched when moving the arm holding the scrolls but was able to point it towards Hensō. "I take it you're responsible…"

The man unraveled the two scrolls and from them came an eruption of summoning smoke. The thick mist cleared to reveal the man standing with a pair of puppets on either side.

"You're going to make this much harder than it needs to be…"

"As if..! Crow! Black Ant!"

There was a sly grin underneath Hensō's mask when the puppets charged towards him. They each had several multi-jointed arms, and in each joint and palm was a blade. Crow arrived first. His right arms swiped across the air where Hensō stood, but the masked one was able to duck and evade. The Black Ant swooped around from the direction Hensō was headed and swung its bladed arms. Again, Hensō was able to leap out of the way and land over the briefcase. It was picked up and used as a blunt weapon for the pursuing puppets, knocking them out of his way. When Hensō leapt towards him, the puppeteer attempted to escape the constriction of the railcar. Hensō's heel dented the outward wall of the car, just missing the retreating man. The boy quickly darted down the hall as the puppeteer tugged his fingers and forced his minions after him. Wooden bodies and weapons clanked and clamored inside the narrow hallway until they chased Hensō out and emerged into the openness of the valley.

Hensō jumped to the helm of the train car and watched as the puppets regrouped with their master. The briefcase was held at his left side and he took the time to further examine his opponent. Puppet ninjutsu, huh. He's vulnerable at close range, I shouldn't waste my time. With that decision, Hensō launched his assault. However, getting close was easier said than done. The puppet master was proficient at keeping his distance, and Hensō was continuously intercepted by the clattering weapons. With his free hand, Hensō drew his own weapon and parried their repetitive strikes. The blades clashed and their bodies tossed. The puppets were relentless, attacked from almost every angle, and of course, showed no signs of fatigue while doing so. Hensō's skills were put to the test, but with his lone arm, he was able to fend them off as they drove him away from the puppeteer.

Ant was the clunkier of the two. Its strikes were powerful and heavy, and in its hands were sturdy but blunt weapons. Crow was fast. This puppet dished out most of the blows that Hensō had to deflect. Every few moments, Ant would swoop in with a barrage of strikes. Its weapons ricocheted off Hensō's steel and bore holes in the earth when they hit the ground. One of the weapons was lodged into the earth, and even though Hensō wielded his sword, he was able to weave a series of hand seals. The stone underneath Ant crackled and clumped up around several of its arms, trapping it in place. Hensō then bashed Crow out of his way with the briefcase and used this opportunity to disable the other. Ant was still struggling to free itself when Hensō dashed towards it. The masked one launched forward, leading with the sole of his boot. Unfortunately, there was no destructive contact. The hull of Ant's body opened up for Hensō to fly right in. He thudded into the hollow puppet and all the light vanished after several loud clicks.

On the outside, Crow had dismantled itself into its respective limbs. Each one unveiled another straight blade and floated within the air above the Black Ant. Hensō beat against the inner walls but there wasn't enough leverage for him to break through.

"Secret Black Technique: Iron Maiden…"

With another tug of the finger, the floating appendages slammed into the thin openings of Ant's hull. It culminated with Crow's head planting itself next to the Ant's and forced the neck-blade inside. Any individual would have been skewered in an instant. Thus, the puppet master let out a sigh of relief at his victory.

"Did you think it would be that easy?"

The man's heart throbbed at the sound of the voice behind him. He whipped his arm around on reflex. Hensō leaned out of the way and dragged his sword down the man's body. The puppet master was able to reduce the strike to a slight graze by evading but wasn't fast enough for the spinning side kick that drove Hensō's heel into his stomach. "Gak!"

The force of the strike knocked the wind out of his lungs, churned up a cough of blood, and launched him back a few meters before he hit the ground. He clenched his fingers to shed Crow's limbs from Ant and used the clunky puppet to sneak up behind the masked attacker. However, Hensō saw the chakra threads around him and was able to detect Ant's presence. His bladed hand casted another set of one handed seals, and when Ant drew near Hensō's flak, it was intercepted by jaws of solid stone that folded out of the ground. Wooden fragments erupted as Ant's armor collapsed between the earthen slabs.

After destroying the puppet, Hensō dashed for his target. At the same time, a reassembled Crow flew down in front of the puppet master and converged on Hensō. The briefcase found its way into the air. Two hands gripped the hilt of the wakizashi. In a swift slash, Hensō ripped his arms down from over his head and cleaved the puppet in two clean halves. As the wood rattled against the ground behind him, the masked one rushed forward. He led with the tip of the sword ready to pierce. Meanwhile the injured puppet user was immobilized, still stunned from the previous attack. With no remaining defenses, the blade punctured his skin.

"Kankuro!"

At the sound of the feminine voice, a jet stream of wind-induced chakra tunnelled through the valley, focused on Hensō himself. Its force lifted him from his feet and blasted him a few meters from Kankuro's general vicinity. Regardless, Hensō was able to regain his composure after several seconds. His feet planted against the ground and let the wind style howl over his crouched, guarded body. A handful of sharp rips tore into the fabric he wore. Eventually the force tapered away and the rush of wind chakra vanished. Hensō dropped his arms. "Quite the draft in this valley," he remarked.

Hensō's attention shifted towards the woman. It was another survivor of the crash. She wielded a giant war fan with a black-steel body. It was unfolded and revealed a pair of purple circle designs, all while being lodged into the ground. This was the woman's upright support, after all. Her knees gently buckled underneath her weight until they gave in and collapsed into the ground. Fractures in the legs perhaps. Like Kankuro, she was heaving for air. There was a piece of her robe missing at the left arm and a patch of murky garnet that replaced it. From what Hensō could see of her behind the fan, it was obvious that she'd suffered several other grave injuries. Most of her sandy blonde hair was tied into four pigtails, but the rest was matted to her forehead by a stinging mix of sweat and blood that smeared a majority of her face.

"Temari..! Get the hell out of here," demanded Kankuro as he struggled to pick himself up.

"Ack," she coughed, "…are you insane?"

"Can't you see I've got it under control?"

"Control?! If it wasn't for me you'd be dead right now…"

"The woman is right, Kankuro," Hensō agreed. He was making his way over to the briefcase that just hit the ground. "You're both in no shape to fight. Let me get what I came here for, and we can all walk away…well, most of us."

"Tsk! You think we'll just sit down while you waltz about? You're a criminal to the Land of Wind, punishable by death"—now on his feet, Kankuro lifted his hand—"that crappy mask won't save you!"

Limbs of the Crow puppet that were still intact sprung from the ground and flashed their poisoned blades. With a tug of Kankuro's fingers, they straightened out and fired like darts at their target's blindside.

"The void awaits."

The voice was behind Kankuro again, and his blades struck the spot where just an instant ago, Hensō was located. He nor Temari were able to comprehend what they saw in that split second. The criminal simply vanished into the ground underneath him like a phantom. Before Kankuro could react to Hensō's new position, the criminal's elbow found a home in the middle of his back and three of his central vertebrae were bashed out of place. Kankuro's knees were kicked out, and Hensō clamped onto the man's head as he fell backwards. Black carbon-fiber gloves yanked at the man's bruised skin, and he was forced to stare up into Hensō's mask. Kankuro's pupils tightened as he focused beyond the dark skull and into the void eye sockets they possessed. Then came a bloody flash of light, and Kankuro's pupils dilated.

The colors of reality ascended, but when he blinked, Kankuro was falling away from it all. The sensation was nothing like free-falling through; he was being dragged down, tugged from his back. The darkness that encased him was stifling. The light in his eyes vanished just as quickly as the world did, and he could no longer see himself, only feel. Then came pain. First, against his back; he'd broken the surface barrier of some body of water and was swallowed by it. Kankuro felt and heard the bubbles of air escaping his throat when he opened his mouth to scream, yet the sound of his voice was vacant. Something was choking at his windpipe, a collection of ghostly hands. He felt them against his heart now, squeezing and tugging at it. Kankuro wasn't able to comprehend how he could experience such agony and emptiness in his chest at the same time. At last, color revealed itself to him again within the darkness he was submerged in. Unfortunately, it was just the same red light.

Kankuro's petrifying screams echoed throughout the valley. Hensō dropped his body to the ground in the midst of his sporadic movements. The man flailed himself about the torn up ground as if something crawled underneath his skin. His eyes were absent; the sclera, iris and pupil all a shade of pitch.

"What th-what did you do to him," Temari seethed.

"No clue. It's just something I do…I suppose I put him to sleep in a way."

"You're sick!"

Temari pressed her weight onto her good leg and used it as support to use her war fan. The body was expanded to its fullest, revealing the third circle, and in a fit of rage the weapon was brandished across her chest. From it emerged a force of chakra that soaked into the air, pushing a solid cyclone of oscillating wind blades in Hensō's direction. As they encroached and consumed his body, Temari fell to her knees again. The war fan dropped to her side and she pressed her hands into the dirt. Her head hung between her shoulders which allowed her to see the ground just beneath her. The woman's eyes shut out of exhaustion, but when they opened, there were a pair of black boots there. Her vision tilted up to see Hensō's looming body and ghoulish visage. Then came his shin. Hensō's punt whipped her head around and bored her into the hull of the nearest rail car. "You know… you should really be less stubborn," Hensō suggested as he approached her. He tapped her cheek but there was no response. Then he focused his attention elsewhere, patting down the frame of her body until he came across a concealed obstruction. "Ah…so you're the one who had it…"

Without shame, Hensō reached into her clothing and withdrew a large steel key. After examining it for a moment he walked by Kankuro, who still writhed against the ground with horrid screams, to retrieve the briefcase. For extra reassurance, the key was applied and the seals unraveled with a click. The locks loosened and a spring mechanism automatically raised the cover. "So that's why this thing is so heavy…they paid in gold bars. Seems like everything is here."

The case was shut and fastened. Hensō stood, let out a sigh and lowered his head into his right palm. The eye that it covered was irritating him. Still with his free eye, he examined what he'd done and gone through to complete his mission. When it didn't seem like anyone else would try to attack, Hensō relaxed his chakra and proceeded towards his original perch. However, he stopped briefly to look back. Survivors were crawling out from within the mangled railcars, but since they were of no concern to him any longer, he left them in the valley. This included the tortured Kankuro and the unconscious Temari. Before he left of course, he had to finish his bento.

Lord Kigawa, Ginzen, and Tanoshimi were having dinner later that night along with several other members of the Feudal Lord's immediate family when Hensō barged into the room. All eyes were directed to him when the shōji door skidded to a cracking halt, and the large metal briefcase was tossed to the ground with a clunk!

"Delivery," Hensō greeted.

Kigawa's jaw dropped. He fell out of his seat and stumbled over to the briefcase resting on the floor. "He did it…he did it! Haha! Unbelieveable! But, they've surely sealed it…they have—"

Hensō tossed Kigawa the key before he could finish, causing the old man to juggle before catching it. The lord fell to his knees above the briefcase and unlocked the seal. Once again the spring mechanism opened the case and revealed several layers of glistening, golden slabs. Kigawa's aged eyelids weren't able to open wide enough to take in all the refracting light. The trembling of his hands stopped when he reached in to lift a bar. It was like fragile glass resting in his palms. "This is our gold," he confirmed, examining the rest of the case. "How did you do this?!"

"The train…broke down."

Kigawa turned in awe towards Ginzen. The blue-eyed man was surprised to see Hensō return with their prize. His expectations were exceeded, and it put a sly grin on his face. He turned to face his sister who was already smiling at him. "I see I must trust your intuition more," Ginzen complimented.

"Nay, it was all our friend Hensō."

She looked towards the masked agent. "I take it you had no issue completing task, yes?"

"Of course not, now what's your plan for the bank."

"Quite the eager one, aren't you?"

"Tsk."

"I'm curious to hear your ideas for this as well," Ginzen added, which startled Tanoshimi for a second.

"Ahem...we would need a small team, perhaps three to four individuals to infiltrate as well as a scout of the general area. Infiltration itself shouldn't be an issue with Hensō's abilities. Likewise, I've already sent out another of our agents, Kenji, on reconnaissance."

"Kenji..? You mean you've had this planned from the start," Hensō growled.

"It's never a poor option to research the circumstances of potential allies when on diplomatic business such as ours. Those who are well prepared make the most calculated, successful decisions."

"And what if I didn't succeed?"

"Well that wouldn't be in your best interest now would it?"

Hensō gave her a blank stare underneath his mask and then smiled. "Yes, you're right."

He chuckled in silence to himself.

"Before we worry about carrying out the heist, we must be prepared to handle the consequence of ambushing that train. I'm certain word has already gotten to Suna about the status of their payment…"

"What in blazes are we going to do? Surely they will suspect us," Kigawa fretted.

"They may suspect, but they won't be able to prove it. We'll make sure of that."

The old Lord responded, "How can you be so confident that they won't?"

"In order for the train to have been attacked, it had to have been done by someone who knew that the tax currency would be aboard. Fingers will be pointed at you yes, but it was not done by any shinobi under your brand, or shinobi that you were publically affiliated with. Then they'll suspect under the cover hire of mercenaries. Still, they have no transaction logs to trace for any payments. They have no phone calls to tap or monitor, and no computer data to go through tying you to us. Their investigations will eventually run dry, but we will need something to further draw attention from you."

"A Migawari," Henso interjected.

Kigawa sprang up and pointed towards him. "Yes!"

Tanoshimi turned to Henso. "Pardon? That's one of the few words in your language I've yet to learn…"

"Someone or something to take the blame—a scapegoat."

"Ah…yes, that's what I was implying. Did you have any specific ideas?"

"Perhaps…"

Double doors slammed open and left cracks in the walls as the fifth Kazekage stormed into the lobby of the emergency room. Everyone looked to see him sifting through the crowd of visitors and patients, and chatter arose as to why he was there. When the receptionist caught his approaching gaze, from behind a patient filling out paperwork, he immediately shuffled amongst the objects on the desk until he picked up the phone. The patient, puzzled by the receptionist's behavior, spun around to see the incoming Kage. They stepped out of the way without hesitation.

Gaara planted his hands against the counter and before he could speak, the receptionist hung the phone. "R-Right this way, sir!"

Gaara was escorted to his destination by a male nurse, followed by a squad of Suna Anbu guards. He traversed the corridors of a hospital located in a city called Kairo on the eastern border of the Land of Wind. It was the medical facility nearest to the wreckage of a certain Suna-Express train carrying classified cargo. The group pushed through three sets of thin double doors before entering the critical condition wing. The perimeter was filled with beds, almost all of them with their curtains tucked. Rolls of gauze and bandage wraps crawled along the ground. Medical-nin were flying across the room and as the Kazekage motioned himself about the people, he glanced around. Monitors shrieked and physicians barked orders. To the left he saw an unconscious man with a needle being plunged into his arm, then a scream bounced off the wall from up ahead. On the way to this side of the hospital, Gaara had heard muffled sounds of such, but couldn't figure out what they were. It was all clear to him now when he passed by a bed to his right. Several nurses male and female held another man down as the doctor forced a fractured humerus bone—protruding through the skin—back into his arm. Further ahead was woman being jolted by the voltage of a defibrillator.

"Clear!"

Zap!

Every patient the Kazekage saw was torn, bloodied, and suffering. There were several other hallways within the wing, but the group continued straight. They passed by half a dozen beds with bloodstained sheets draped over the faces of those laying on them as they left, but Gaara stopped to look. He shut his eyes and lowered his head.

"Those patients were from the crash," the nurse finally mentioned. "B-But your siblings were moved out of the CC several hours ago, Lord Kazekage…"

"As much as that comforts me…I can't help but grieve for these men and women. They were citizens of the Land of Wind, of Sunagakure…"

"Come, my Lord," one of the female Anbu insisted. "I apologize but there was nothing we could do about this."

"There is always something you can do," the Kazekage asserted before bowing his head in brief prayer.

The group came upon the destination a few minutes later, and the nurse held the door open as the Suna entourage filed in. "If you need anything, you can use the phone on the wall there to call," he said before being nodded off by one of the guards.

The two patients laid across from each other on opposite sides of the room, and when Gaara stepped in from among his security, the male turned his head to face him.

"Kankuro…"

"Save it, don't worry about me. I'll be alright."

Kankuro spoke by weakly motioning his IV'd arm and with his eyelids draped. There were dark-shaded pigments underneath his bagged eyelids, and his skin was slate pale. Gaara gulped down and turned to the other side. His sister was motionless in her bed with a folded cloth covering her eyes and didn't respond to his presence.

"She'll be fine too," Kankuro reassured, "she's got a few minor fractures and took a hit to the head, but she's as tough as ever, hehe."

"What the hell even happened..?"

Kankuro sighed, "Take a seat."

Gaara complied. He drew the beige, cushioned chair from the wall by Kankuro's side and sat to face him. "Go on."

"We were attacked."

Something clenched in Gaara's chest.

"It was some ninja… at least I think it was a ninja…"

"What do you mean?"

"Well…whatever it was… it looked human but moved like a goddamned ghost. Had a jagged voice, definitely male. Dressed in all black clothing with a hood. No visible shinobi affiliation."

"Did you make out any facial features?"

"He didn't have any. It was just a black…skull-like face, mask maybe. Some sort of demonic shit, man."

"You sound like you've been spooked by a 'shinigami', Kankuro. Are you sure you didn't hit your head as well?"

"I know what I fuckin' saw…and then some…"

Gaara raised the left side of his browline and leaned in.

"When I fought him, he was moving around so quickly at times I couldn't even see him. He even escaped Black Ant's hull without destroying it from the inside, then somehow appeared behind me. My guess was that it was some sort of teleportation jutsu, but I've never seen anything like it before. It was as if… he could will himself in and out of existence. He was undetectable."

"And this man was strong enough to take the both of you on?"

"He's the entire reason the train crashed in the first place. It's confirmed he has some powerful earth release jutsu, whatever teleportation abilities he uses, and then…"

"What is it?"

"He has another technique…some sort of genjutsu, but at the same time it wasn't. It was like I was living a nightmare. Something was tugging at my being and the pain was fucking excruciating. It's why I'm laying in this goddamn bed. Other than that I know next to nothing."

Gaara stood from his seat and walked over to Temari's bedside, sighing on his way. "And the cargo?"

"He said our lives weren't what he was after and took the gold."

Gaara held onto Temari's limp hand.

"Gaara," Kankuro continued, "I think the Rivers Country is behind this. We must retaliate now."

"No, we don't have any proof yet, just coincidences. I don't want a repeat of Kusagakure here."

The Kazekage faced his brother. "However, we must be weary of this new criminal and whoever his affiliates are."

"Then we need to investigate the Rivers Country, Gaara."

Hesitant to respond, he glanced at his Anbu. Each of them agreed. Then he looked towards Kankuro. His brother's mind was already made up. At last, Gaara's gaze fell upon his sister, Temari, who was the most afflicted out of the three. Seeing her reminded him of what she looked forward to going back to: her family in Konoha. It struck guilt into his heart, for he was the reason she was in her current predicament. "Very well. Contact Kigawa, and get in touch with the Wind Daimyo."

Dusty clouds and specs of light painted the black canvas of the night sky. The frosty air of the desert at that time was a stark contrast to the smoldering heat of the day. Moreover, there was rarely a time when the atmosphere sat still. Howling gusts with force carried from across the country seemed to battle each other at all times, tossing around dunes of sand grayed by the lack of light. The province of Sunagakure was a moderate zone, however. Weather was rarely an issue its citizens had to worry about. Of course, they had a collection of other problems to deal with in return.

In the decade following the Fourth Great Shinobi War, Suna too had undergone expansion. Settlements developed on the slopes of the valley that fortified the original village as as well as upon the surrounding cliff tops and beyond. New defenses were erected about the perimeter of Suna's extensions, constructed by conjoined columns of earth standing forty meters. Furthermore, every building was refurbished with white granite, giving Suna a glossy new finish. No longer did the former village look like a large collection of rocky huts blending in with the desert. Like any other city, it was a sight after dark. There were no tall skyscrapers, but the neon lights of the downtown area colored the night. Underneath the gaze of the crescent moon, Hensō took in the stunning view.

Hensō stood at the edge of the cliff, staring into the vast territory of Sunagakure with the gentle wind billowing his cloak. Three full days passed since the train incident, during which Suna conducted their investigation to no avail. As Tanoshimi had planned, there was no significant evidence linking them to the crime. The train from Kusagakure was also nowhere to be found. With the Wind country momentarily warded off, it was time for Genesis to strike yet again. The city Hensō overlooked awaited him. Then came footsteps approaching from behind. Through the holes of his mask, he turned to see Kenji who was clad in a similar attire.

"Ready to go, Hensō?"

"Yea, just about," he replied, fixing his gaze on the shorter individual who stood behind the older boy. They wore an encompassing black cloak with a hood that draped over most of their facial features, except for part of their mouth and chin. "Who are you?"

"Yuko," the young girl responded.

"She's the other Genesis agent that'll be helping us," Kenji added.

"I've never seen her before."

"She's from the River country's branch. Apparently she's the best that they've produced so far."

"I see," Hensō turned to her. "Welcome to the team. I hope you'll show us what you're capable of."

She nodded.

Hensō switched his attention. "I'm assuming you acquired the masks, Kenji?"

"Goddamnit…do we seriously have to put these on?"

"Of course, you'll need it to conceal yourselves."

Kenji sighed and withdrew two masks from his cloak. Before adorning his, he held Yuko's out to her. It was a style similar to Hensō's: skeletal in nature with a metallic black finish. There were no traditional teeth, just a flat-carved design with shadowed eye sockets and large, holed bolts protruding underneath the cheekbones for breathing. Kenji's had a gray-steel finish and resembled the demonic visage of a ghoulish samurai. The maw was spread open but shadowed out beneath the jagged teeth.

"Perfect," Hensō complimented. "I've been thinking of a new name for us Genesis agents, specifically this group of elites."

As he spoke, the bloody glow of his dojutsu ignited through the eye sockets. "I foresee great things for us. To be more than a band of scapegoats and to take this world for our own."

"Are you serious," Kenji grumbled, then spoke aloud, "what did you have in mind?"

"Reapers," he smirked.

It was the last thing he said before turning his back, stepping off the cliff and descending into the darkness below that awaited him.

A/N: Chapter was a little shorter than usual but that's because I wanted to get this one out and continue progressing the story. There are more important events in the making. That being said, I'll be trying to pick up the pace in the next few weeks. Hopefully I'll be up to speed in june and I foresee the next release to be mid May.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

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