Matsuma Mako stands in the Admin command center, a map of Amegakure laid out centrally the a windowless chamber. She keeps her lips pursed, staring narrowly at her would-be peers. With the exception to Hanzō's man Kandachi, she is certain she is older than any two, maybe even three, persons present combined.
Harried aides run to and fro. Village communications were cut first, with Sunagakure shinobi continuing to strike down any power lines and cables they come across. They've been reduced to coded messages through short range radio.
This village's lack of summons continues to be an issue. Hanzō's distrust runs deep, convinced that any prospective summons will inevitably share village secrets with outsiders. His own, of course, remain the exception. Matsuma shakes her head. As if the realms of beasts have any investment in the world of humans…
A courier intrinsically capable of space-time ninjutsu is valuable beyond any earthly measure.
Instead, TI agents & Logistics couriers are playing a game of Whispers across the village. That she can use her own agents is a small positive, although not enough to bolster her confidence. Every absent communication signals another casualty, another agent she will have to vet and replace.
Another delay in her plans.
She bites down her anger with the practice of a career shinobi. No one ever truly retires in this profession. To think of how close she got is not a thought she chooses to dwell upon.
"Matsuma-sama-"
"Matsuma-san, Kyuso." she says curtly, not looking up from her reports. "What is it?"
She can hear the quaver in the girl's voice, the clammy palms. Administrative ninja were, in her experience, almost always of a nervous disposition. If they weren't, they would be field shinobi.
"D-deployment was successful in all quarters save the southeast…"
Matsuma sighs. The two factories remain under Suna control. Still, she is not surprised. She looks up at the girl. One of Hanzō's.
"I'm sensing you have more to say, Kyuso. Don't wait on my account."
Kyuso's voice is a whisper.
"…Bunkers 3B, 7F, and 5G didn't report a seal before the gas."
"Understood. Carry on, Kyuso."
A moment later, the girl is still standing there. Matsuma already knows what she's waiting for. She looks over the map and its scattered pieces, holding onto the rotating model she's constructed in her mind.
"Send Kinnojo."
"Alone? The bunkers are in three different quarters. One ninja—"
"Is sufficient to the task." Her patience is wearing thin.
"Understood."
Matsuma catches a look in the girl's eyes as she turns away.
"Kyuso-san."
The girl freezes.
"If another operative accompanies Kinnojo, that will be one less shinobi elsewhere in Ame. If you send any more, I will hold you directly responsible for both their actions as well as the consequences for their absence elsewhere. Do we have an understanding?"
The girl nods stiffly.
"Then go. Then bring me the latest from the west quadrants."
Matsuma returns her gaze to the map.
Another aide approaches. One of her's, thankfully. She has a poor tolerance for fretfulness.
"Matsuma-san. No positive ID of the unit they're talking about over the comms, but sightings suggest they are headed—"
"Southeast," finishes Matsuma. "Tamotsu Taro recently checked in, yes?"
"Yes—"
"Send him to last marked coordinates. Inform him his task is asset retrieval, top priority." She pauses. "Send Yamane Akiko as well. They are to direct the unidentified unit to the two occupied factories. Make sure he knows collateral damage to village assets will constitute a failure condition for this mission."
Confusion reads for a moment on his face before fading back to stoicism. "Yes, Matsuma-san." The man nods, and leaves to relay her orders.
The confusion was understandable, but her agents remained obedient. Fear was a poor bedrock for leadership, but it had its place.
A disgraced wartime jōnin and a peacetime Intelligence agent, sent to retrieve the unidentified asset presently wrecking havoc on invading forces across the village.
At last report, the girl was still catatonic in her cell. She expects there is going to be a very interesting explanation at the end of all this.
The tower shakes with another impact.
…Provided they all survive, that is.
Rin leaps along the rooftops until a familiar shout catches her ear and tugs on her heart. The memory of her first hospital visit keeps her from jumping off the roof then and there, but it pushes her to seek out the sound. Rin cloaks herself and zeroes in on her target. She circles around the circumference of the tower, triangulating his location. She needs visual confirmation before action.
She spots Tamotsu and Yamane from twelve stories up. Tamotsu gives a friendly wave. Rin lets loose a shout of delight and sprints down the length of the tower. Near the bottom she oversaturates her feet with chakra just as she jumps, launching herself off the surface. She flips forward through the air before landing on her feet, running forward across the concrete walkway.
Jumping into the air, Tamotsu catches her in a hug. He squeezes her tight and she laughs, bright and delighted. There is a moment, she thinks, where she almost sounds like a normal child.
When was the last time she laughed like that?
It takes her a moment before she realizes she completely ignored protocol. She looks up sheepishly as she stands back on her feet. She signs with one hand.
In the muddy depths of marshes and lakes-
- - The wills of ninja subtly bloom he finishes. I don't need a challenge to tell its you.
Rin cocks her head curiously.
You're one of a kind.
Rin wraps Tamotsu in another hug, forming a second arm of sand.
That's new, he remarks
"This is sweet," says Yamane anxiously, "But we're not safe in the open."
Rin lets go of Tamotsu and nods to Yamane. The trio retreat into a nearby tower. Tamotsu checks the room then proceeds to sweep the tower. An uncomfortable silence stretches between Rin and Yamane. The green haired operative speaks first.
"He'd die for you." she says, cutting to the heart of the matter. "I trust you know that?"
Rin holds Yamane's gaze. The steel in the green-haired kunoichi's eyes is clear.
"…Yes."
"Then see to it that he doesn't."
Tamotsu reenters the room.
All clear
Yamane turns to Rin.
"We have orders to direct you to a pair of factories. Admin feels you're up for the task."
"Alright. Let's go."
As they move towards the door, Rin feels it in her gut. And judging by the look on her comrades' faces, they feel it too.
Three illusory clones emerge from Rin, one matching herself and her allies. The clones sprint outside. The trio is instantly skewered by a volley of kunai. Rin can see in an instant the strikes would have been killing blows. They have only a moment as three kunai embed themselves into the ground in front of the door.
Exploding seals flash as they ignite. Squinting against the light, Rin throws out a burst of sand. She smothers two but is knocked head over heels by the third. White light swamps her vision as the explosion echoes violently in the enclosed metal space. Rin can hear her ears ringing painfully. As her vision clears she sees rubble smoldering across the floor around her.
A man is walking across the walkway with a casual pacing that belies the khaki-colored combat gear he's decked out in. His face is covered by an otoko mask, a beatific countenance staring at her with golden eyes and silver teeth.
Tamotsu is on his feet, fists raised. The jōnin engages.
A black bo staff spins into view, blocking his blows and spinning in a series of strikes that easily push Tamotsu onto the defensive.
Yamane comes into Rin's view, her hair covered in dust. Overhead, the tower groans under its own weight. She drags Rin to her feet. Yamane signals for a pincer maneuver and the two leap into action.
Alarm bells are ringing in her head.
The otoko sweeps Tamotsu's feet, spinning in place before bringing his weapon down on Tamotsu's chest, goes prone on the concrete.
Rin cries out, throwing a series of glass spines. The otoko parries, neatly deflecting her projectiles.
The enemy moves forward, stepping with an impossible softness. They push off the ground and float forward in their grace.
Wires fly from Yamane, wrapping around the Suna ninja. In a fluid gesture she yanks her arms apart, severing the man into several pieces. The pieces crumble into sand.
In a flash the otoko is in front of her. She blends her chakra, summoning her power. He's fast, she'll give him that. Not a lot of good it'll do him to try it amidst cardiac arrest.
His wrist shoots out, striking her flat in the throat. Rin instinctually grabs for her neck when the tip of his staff punches into her gut. She crumples, gasping for air as she struggles to keep on the water's surface.
From the ground she feels a wave of lake water splash over her. Uncurling, Rin watches as whirling aqueous tendrils lash around Yamane from the water's surface. The constructs strike out, gouging through the air as the shinobi dodges.
The ANBU leaps, nearly running across the air as he flips out of the way. The shinobi is keen, using his light step to minimize contact with the lake's surface He hurls a series of marble-sized objects. Water sprays skyward as they detonate. Yamane is thrown to an adjacent platform, colliding with the metal wall.
The otoko-masked man turns and reaches down towards Rin when Tamotsu hits him like a truck. The larger shinobi tackles the masked man into a nearby wall with a bone-snapping crunch. The masked man goes limp, dropping his weapon. His hands reach weakly at Tamotsu. Her sensei swiftly reaches up and snaps the man's neck, killing him instantly.
The ANBU operative drops to the ground.
Tamotsu moves to pick up Rin as she struggles to her feet. Looking over his shoulder, she has just enough time to signal him with an auditory genjutsu.
[DUCK]
He ducks in time to avoid decapitation, the guard-less falchion swinging heavily though open air.
Another ANBU agent, wearing a white oumionna mask, swings a pair of heavy blades.
Rin's own claws are out. She's still struggling to breathe but she's not going out without a fight.
The oumionna is a skilled fighter, whirling like a dervish with her blades. Rin does her best to match pace, slashing back and dodging in kind. A low horizontal strike forces her to jump, twisting into a horizontal roll to carry her body narrowly over the slash. Rin lands in a three-point landing. She looks up in time to see a second strike coming.
Tamotsu blocks the blade with a forearm wrapped in concrete, the blade chewing grittily against the grit. He deflects a series of blows, metal scraping stone. He parries, then rotates his wrist with a surprising
He grips the swords user's wrist in an unyielding grasp. The stone fist crunches audibly and the Suna ANBU writhes. Unable to twist free, she swings her other sword manically, colliding over and over with Tamotsu's other gauntleted fist.
He backhands her free wrist, sending the blade flying. There is a seemingly suspended moment as he cocks back his arm, stretching back his fingers out before tightly curling them back into a fist. The strike rings out like a gunshot as his fist connects with the oumionna's face. Her head explodes under the force.
Rin inhales, wincing in anticipation of the viscera. Instead, the ANBU's head disintegrates into shards of wood and countless clockwork pieces.
Rin opens her mouth to speak when a pair of arms wrap around her neck and torso. She's pulled backwards violently. Unable to twist around, she can assert its the man in the otoko mask. He drags her upwards into the open air when Yamane's wires wrap around his ankles.
They jerk, snagging in place. Rin snarls, reaching up and grabbing the man's arms. Her sand heats and explodes outwards, shredding the man with countless shining spines of glass. A sound of splintering wood sounds and Rin drops.
As she falls, Rin spots a cloaked figure atop a distant roof. A shadow, a distant but distinguishable chakra presence. The form recedes, fading into the pouring rain. Rin cushions her landing and sinks into the water below.
She kicks her way to the surface, jumping back onto the walkway. Tamotsu kneels over Yamane, who slowly stands as she nurses a pain in her side.
The Suna radio in her ear crackles noisily. A cursory inspection confirms it was damaged in the seal blast. She tunes between frequencies, listening through the static. She confirms the same message across multiple channels— Hidden Sand has signaled for a retreat.
Out on the surface of the lake, the half-cracked otoko mask stares at her with its perpetual smile before sinking into the waters below.
A series of cheers sound out in the command room. Matsuma Mako is not among them. There is still much work to be done. She lets them have their moment, however.
Kyuso, she's noticed, is conspicuously absent. Small surprise, that.
A few of the senior staff remain stoic in her presence, adherent to procedure. Even if every Hidden Sand operative vanished in thin air, there is still the process of sweeping for stragglers and whatever traps Suna had seen fit to leave behind. Until both were confirmed she wasn't even going to consider the nightmare of rebuilding inter-village communications.
At least that item meant she'd have opportunity to make necessary improvements.
The tower shudders again, shaking concrete dust from the ceiling. The prospective revelers half, looking to Matsuma for guidance. She stays stone-faced and unreadable. Another aid enters, sweat stains visible around his neck and arms.
"Matsuma-san."
She waves her hand, prompting him to continue.
"Operatives report Suna operatives have vacated the west most of the occupied factories. No enemy combatants have been seen to leave the Eastside facility. Field Commander Heiji has sent in two units to sweep the building."
Matsuma's eye looks to her incomplete map. A smattering of dust coats the board, but a small collection has seemingly accumulated in the last quake, forming the barest pile over the outline of the still-occupied eastern factory.
An ill omen, if ever she's seen one.
As a young woman she would have dismissed such a thought, would have ignored the gnawing dread in her stomach. Having made it this long, she has learned the value of such intuition.
"Maintain the alert," she says, loud enough to cut over the chatter and back-clapping of premature celebration. "Send word to any surviving bunkers of the factory within five locus points to relocate to tertiary evacuation points. Any within ten grid marks are to evacuate to secondary evac centers."
The room sobers like water evaporating on a grill top.
"I want all catacombs in a ten-square radius beneath sealed, with reconnaissance patrols placed equidistantly around the factory."
The room slowly gains momentum, moving on with a somber purpose.
Sunagakure does not yield without a fight.
Something is very, very wrong.
Dokura Hama runs as fast as she can. All sense of training and protocol is gone. She is running, and in the moment she knows only one truth— if she slows, she will die. If she stops, she will die.
If she tries to fight, she will die.
Thirty seconds ago she watched her squadmate's skull be slowly pulped by the hand of the enemy. He'd screamed the entire time, those few seconds before death stretching out endlessly in her mind. They were supposed to be winning— Suna was retreating.
It was the thing from the radio, she was sure of it. Whatever it was, it was no ally of Amegakure. Or Suna, for that matter. That thing killed its own allies as eagerly as it did shinobi of Hidden Rain.
As she runs she cries, her panicked voice choking out something between a prayer and flat-out begging. She sees a door; an emergency exit, it's pale green light still shining in the emergency lighting. She starts to give her thanks when that very same fist closes around her torso.
Hama screams as she is dragged back, up and over the guardrail and into the darkness of the factory below.
There are no kami present to hear her— only demons.
