'I swore to avenge my husband, but the whole time I've been hunting her—HIM, always him: The original Raven!' The Anbu Captain's heart pounds in her chest; Sayuri's sweaty hands tremble like a leaf as she recalls the mission pay and massive bounty on the Marine Contra. 'For years, I was always unsure, but now… now I'm certain Jimi Iara Malkhaz is a male! She–no, HE'S all alone and defenseless.' Breathless, the Uchiha struggles to restrain herself, unable to fathom the bonus of a live target, 'I'll never have another opportunity like this again!'
Sayuri scrutinizes his face in exhaustive detail, blushing beat red, 'Let the consequences be what they may. Besides, Who I believed was my husband had always been my distant second choice. No one ever has to know!'
'I've never lost control like this before; I can't believe what I'm about to do.' Giggling like a schoolgirl, Sayuri manages to compose herself, "I've had strong, mixed feelings for you since you saved me from that wildfire all those years ago. If it weren't for you, I'd be a forgotten heap of charred bones lying in one of my clan's many abandoned settlements," the kunoichi stutters.
"If your dōjutsu grants extrasensory perception, almost indistinguishable from telepathy... Then, you can understand why I am physically incapable of harboring or expressing such sentiments. Substantial genetic and surgical modifications ensure that I can only mimic non-genuine emotions. And are perhaps habitual remnants of the souls inhabiting this body. In other words, Sayuri—I can never love you or anyone else. I never have nor would I ever—ack!"
The Anbu Captain squeezes Jimi's throat, silencing him, "Shut your mouth! Maybe I'll keep you in that trance-like state so you won't look at anyone else but me!"
Jim's twitching, bloodshot eyes almost rupture due to asphyxiation and anguish. He fights to restrain the tears in his eyes, refusing to allow her the satisfaction of them trailing down his face. The war criminal's eyes roll into his head; blood trickles from Jim's nose as his body spasms, 'I should've crushed her skull beneath my boot!'
Jim tries retaliating with fierce cerebral resistance and psychological warfare. However, against an Uchiha is no more than a last-ditch delay tactic. Despite the futility of using genjutsu, he deduces a despondent battle of attrition can, at best, impede the certainty of his tragic fate. 'But for how much longer?' he wonders.
With the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan's overwhelming visual prowess, the Anbu captain sifts through the initial cognitive defenses safeguarding his consciousness, enabling minimal communication via telepathy. "Your compliance is no longer a factor. I'm not letting you go anywhere anymore! I never did get a ring until now, Jimi!"
'Idiot! You leg-locked me when I tried pulling out that night!'
"I will take what's rightfully mine! You—belong—to me! Despite living together, I could never figure you out, which was infuriating, yet this kept me infatuated with you." Sayuri sighs, brushes away Jim's hair, then caresses his face with her index finger, "I can't sense an incline of fear or helplessness. The more I stare at you, the more I feel shivers and my blood boiling! I'll do with you whatever I please without reprisal or remorse! I won't let you go for as long as I live. How does this make you feel, Jimi!? I still can't tell!"
Jim has no choice but to amend his initial strategy. Although he cannot halt the disclosure of his memories, Jim can designate the sequence and, to a degree, the extent to which information the Anbu Captain subsumes. The Contra surrenders non-sequential data fragments to thwart a substantial intelligence breach, per se imploring a cerebral tactical retreat.
'I can only aspire for a data overload to disorganize Sayuri's interrogation genjutsu and delay her from accessing sensitive intel. Assuming she can differentiate or process anything worthwhile.' Jim implements a Neural Substitution Jutsu between toilsome gasps, allowing him to use Menma's mind and soul as a diversion from his own. Sayuri stumbles upon a labyrinthine bulwark of chakra pathways that comprise his neural defense grid, 'laugh now, Hidden Leaf scum!'
The many intersecting paths contain intricate webs of glowing chakra nods with recollections of forbidden jutsu and corresponding information in chronological order that relay various flashbacks from Jim's perspective. Clandestine connections between dormant neural synapses form, resulting in a surge of memoirs once unavailable due to the influence of other Sharingan users.
Unable to anticipate the severity or implications of such an obscure double-edged blade within his strategy, flabbergasts Jim. Before depression can overtake Sayuri, she detects subtle alterations to Menma's memories that even Jim appears none the wiser. Each unique chakra signature lets her distinguish every culprit and unspeakable act reminiscent of Slaanesh Cultists.
'Sayuri! You and that fork-tongued pig-lizard Tijama threw me to the wolves!'
'Why have I never thought of trying that!?' the Anbu captain frowns at her siblings and fellow clansman's betrayal, "not intentionally. I understand your grievances, but I have no sympathy for you. I'll seal off your chakra this time, lock you away, and observe you daily." Corrupt memory nodes are distinct via resemblance to human eyes. Each has a unique Mangekyō Sharingan archetype, tying more evidence to specific higher-ranking individuals such as clan representatives, council members, nobility, and, much to the Anbu captain's astonishment, even royalty.
Much to Sayuri's but even more Jim's dismay, they uncover an assortment of depravity and secret messages requiring a Sharingan to access or interpret. Moreover, the dōjutsu's degree of refinement governs accessibility to prior explicit acts of indecency and inside jokes at the Anbu captain's expense, further adding insult to injury. In an instant, she recalls previous banter in the women's barracks and public during broad daylight with new insight into every direct and indirect jeer.
"You know, Jimi. I want—to be upset with you over this, but I can't; you had nothing to do with it, and that frustrates me because I have nothing to take it out on now! I thought I'd be much angrier with the utter humiliation and loss of my pride as an Anbu Captain. Or maybe I'm so unbelievably enraged that I've come full circle," Sayuri's maniacal laughter persists like a cackling hyena as she descends into madness."
'I was intoxicated that night, on my twenty-first birthday, and had mistaken you for Nagari! The Hokage came to my condo at dawn, pointing a twelve-gauge at my face! Taijama threatened to end me then and there unless I marry you in his office within the next hour; a literal shotgun wedding!'
"Which was also on my eighteenth! It may have been you as Menma, but you still promised me at our wedding—my Nindō is only you from now on and always. I won't let you go from my side. After all, you are mine from now on and always mine!" Her tongue droops from her mouth as she drools and pants, slurring nonsensical, lascivious rambling with a fanatic wide-eyed gaze.
Jim's mind operates in overdrive, dispelling ceaseless layers of encroaching genjutsu. From subtle applications of chakra absorption techniques, he releases minor pulses of electricity to reboot his chakra network, causing him to fluctuate between reality and a Tsukuyomi-like realm. Likewise, he focuses more on hindering the Sharingan's mental rather than physical influence over the subliminal aspects comprising his chakra network's cardinal defenses. Thus, he retains semi-awareness while preoccupying his mind with the eclectic endeavor.
Jim almost dismisses the Anbu Captain's phraseology as incessant jabber but, upon closer scrutiny, recognizes the subtle adages that coincide with lewd profanity and other perverse expressions. He gasps, somewhat interpreting the ancient language unique to the Uchiha clan's inner circle, causing his face to flush ever more beat red.
'None other than the Uchiha possess the linguistic aptitude to develop a language proficient in expressing intention and pure emotion to such a degree.' Unable to derive any enjoyment or pleasure, Jim relinquishes the physicality of his non-consensual dilemma with considerable reluctance. Nevertheless, it is another adequate diversion for conducting an effective Fūinjutsu-based counteroffensive. As he prioritizes sustaining consciousness, the captive fugitive remains uncertain about how long he can resist while the Anbu Captain's intensity and aggressive pace hasten.
Sayuri expresses what she desires ad infinitum ad nauseam; however, Jim wants nothing more than to cover the Uchiha's mouth to keep her quiet; perpetual exposure to the Sharingan but with the Land of Key's 'Eye Mind Reading Technique' awards the mass murderer new insight via empirical awareness of the dōjutsu's true nature and experience of every perverse fantasy Sayuri has of him.
Jim fluctuates between cognizance ricocheting from Tsukuyomi and reality. He feels what Sayuri feels then vis-à-vis; furthermore, hours in the dream-like realm can be less than a nanosecond in the physical world. In conjunction with advanced medical knowledge, the Uchiha's evolved bloodline limit's latent abilities enable precise manipulation of his circulatory system to specific regions of the war criminal's body in excessive volumes without Jim harboring any feelings of attraction or arousal. Sayuri can also accelerate his recovery rate and production whenever she desires. That is—if the struggling kunoichi can and has yet to, despite trying her darnedest.
Bruising, swelling, and proportions aside, Jim wonders, 'How can she manage without any pain or discomfort?' but then a mischievous smirk glides across his face. Jim's level of chakra control enables him to conduct and concentrate it anywhere on his body, generating a vibration effect; the results are instantaneous. Though fleeting, the expression on Sayuri's face is one he has no precedent nor terminology to characterize; the ominous silence is deafening. Comparable to an ancient, inhuman phenomenon or interdimensional glitch that awakens dormant primal dismay within him.
Seizing the opportunity without hesitation, Jim banishes the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan's incursive influence from his predominant mind. The neural network's auxiliary apparatus synchronizing the Contra's duel consciousness roars into operation. The autonomous procedure, functioning with semi-sentience, acts as a diversion while he sorties the unsuspecting Anbu Captain's brain.
Jim acquires sensitive intel utilizing the Land of Key's vast repertoire of counter-cerebral incursion techniques, regressive hypnosis, and reverse interrogation genjutsu. The gasping, quivering, near-strabismical Anbu Captain slumps forward onto him. He retakes control over his vocal cords, "What's the matter… is that all you've got!?" Jim grits his teeth, "Don't you still wanna have your 'Ninja Way' with me some more against my will!?" he snarls, struggling to repress his cracking voice and childhood trauma.
Sayuri chuckles, "You were always so cute when you're upset, Jimi," she glares into his eyes, deactivating his improvisational Jutsu with her Sharingan. The hyperventilating kunoichi regains her composure, "I see you've learned some new tricks over the years, but so have I! Though never in my wildest dreams would I have fathomed anyone using chakra in such a sinful way? Interesting." Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she takes control of Jim's limbs, manipulating his body like a human puppet.
"Alright, th-that's enough… Stop! Y-you've had your—fun. Now let me go already!"
(Shadow clone's perspective)
A shadow clone duo seizes sanctuary behind the large columns lining a monumental amphitheater. A tremendous fulmination of pressure and flame razes an ample allotment of the audience chamber, almost collapsing the entire floor. Sibilant screeching and haunting wails drown out the brief silence; hundreds of glowing eyes appear in the smoke as silhouettes of all shapes and sizes arise from the burning debris. The hordes of flesh-eating ghouls resume their unrelenting descent upon Jim's shadow clones. Both clones retreat behind the stage, barricading the back entrances with Earth Release.
Yet, the Red Zetsus are already chipping away at the rocky obstruction with their inhuman strength. Rusting metal creeks like fingernails on a chalkboard as the steel doors bend and rattle behind the debris. The distinct moans of the wandering dead increase as thousands swarm the arena; their ghost-like whales and groans vibrate the air, drowning out the post-apocalyptic ambiance.
Jim's shadow clone crosses his index and middle fingers, focusing on an explosive tag on the ground. A stack of paper bombs appears from thin air, "This place is about to blow much sloppier than a Suna kunoichi, swingin' a giant fan!" A few quick hand seals and the stack of paper tags mummify the shadow clone, "I suggest leaving before that happens!" he warns his counterpart.
"You crazy, son-of-a!" Though mindful of the ironic self-slight, the duplicate (a shadow clone of a shadow clone) bolts down the extensive corridor before the heavy trap door slams shut.
"ALOHA SNACK BAR!"
As he accelerates via Teleportation Jutsu, the shadow clone's surroundings regress into obscure constructs and ephemeral tinges. His momentum, then a shockwave, sends the doppelganger soaring in the air with immense heat, almost singeing his fatigues. Jim's clone decelerates and descends; hence, the slight time dilation recedes. Soon, memories of the replicate's predecessor come screaming back into his mind like a haunting night terror. At once, he clasps his hands together to create a thin layer of armor using Earth Release before slamming into an abandoned vehicle.
Respiring, Jim's shadow clone struggles to stand before collapsing into a cold sweat, trembling with his mouth agape and tears streaming down the imitation's face, ready to vomit. The sheer dread and panic as the fuse malfunctions, then choking on blood once the Red Zetsus maul his flesh, ripping him limb from limb. He recalls them tearing out his entrails before instant disintegration by a scorching inferno.
The duplicate fumbles around his abdomen, confirming his intestines remain intact; with shaking hands, he struggles to ignite the cigarette resting in his mouth. After a few drags, Jim's shadow clone consoles himself enough to reflect upon prior experiences with his predecessor. He discerns in excruciating detail that an error in the primary paper bomb's fuse due to imprudence is the reason behind the timer's delay. Rather than being upset, the clone considers how beneficial the agonizing ordeal's insightful aspects will be in due time.
'The damage threshold I can endure depends on the quantity and quality of chakra absorbed. Thus, I was incapable of dispelling myself and forced to suffer being consumed by those vile abominations.' The shadow clone's eyes widen; in his peripheral vision, he sees a Red Zetsu peering from behind the vehicle before it lunges at him, "Aargh! Get off me, you sick, festering pervert!" The cannibalistic fiend tackles Jim's doppelganger, biting and snapping at the air as he tries fending it away.
Its jaw unhinges; the zombie-like creature's tongue flutters in a frenzy as it inches closer to the replicate's face. Jim's imitation shoves a handful of gravel into its gaping maw, resulting in the mutant grabbing his throat and slamming his head against the vehicle's tire. He restrains the Red Zetsu with his palm against its forehead, absorbing as much chakra as possible. The clone slams his fist against the abomination's jaw, splintering its skull until it pins his fist on the ground.
The shadow clone struggles against the mutant's inhuman strength before manipulating what remains of the zombie-like creature's fingers into a rudimentary hand seal. Everything above the Red Zetsu's neck ruptures as the gravel wedged in its mouth fizzles with electricity and expands. However, destroying the abomination's head, at best, impedes its ability to coordinate until the body recalibrates itself. Jim's duplicate snatches a pistol from the convulsing mutant shinobi and fires; blood and bone fragments explode from the entry hole on another Red Zetsu's knee.
The bone within its rotting leg splinters like plywood as it stumbles forward. The doppelganger dispatches two rounds into its skull but misses the third shot. The flesh-eating ghoul falls onto the spastic Red Zetsu, already on top of him. The mutant grabs the clone's arm, pinning his limb against the vehicle. Jim's replicate angles his wrist, firing twice; the cannibalistic fiend's cranium bisects before it can bite the imitation. Another Red Zetsu falls onto the twitching abominations atop Jim's shadow clone.
He detects more abominations inbound; the clone empties the magazine, bespattering the following mutant's decomposing skull against an adjacent pillar. Two drawn-out groans, then boot-like sandals shuffling against loose gravel, disrupt the brief eerie silence. He shoves the trio of spasming carcasses off himself, rolling underneath the vehicle towards the opposite side. A pair of zombified shinobis lurch from the smoke while the duplicate scrambles to his feet, readying itself in a combat stance.
A kunai slides from the doppelganger's sleeve into his hand; he studies their appearance and attire for practicable provisions to plunder. Jim's shadow clone perceives the slight differences in the Land of Fire's standard issue BDUs (Battle Dress Uniform) enough to distinguish one of the Red Zetsus as an officer with a full pistol magazine in its flak jacket. The beret adorning the Hidden Leaf's coat of arms and the markings on the zombified officer's feral, battle-scared face signify possible affiliation with the Inuzuka clan.
They shuffle toward the shadow clone; he zeroes in as their foreheads align. The replicate enhances the kunai with chakra before casting the speeding blade at the mutant Inuzuka, and—it ducks.
The imitation blinks twice before doing a double-take as the adjacent mutant catches and whirls the kunai into a reverse grip. The abominations close in; the shadow clone shifts into a Southpaw Stance, "Ancient Aztec Art: Siphoning Synergistic Strikes." He steps forward, staying light on his feet, maneuvering around the flesh-eating ghouls while throwing jabs and herculean punches at breakneck speeds.
Blood, teeth, and bone fragments discharge from the mutant Inuzuka's face as each blow leaves indentations destabilizing the skull's skeletal structure, further deforming its face. He ducks under its arm before slamming two left hooks into the cannibalistic fiend's ribs, shattering the bones like an old ceramic vase. The zombie-like creature lunges, but Jim's clone sidesteps its counterattack. He whips a powerful left hook into what remains of the Red Zetsu's jaw, ripping it from the mutant's head as it falls backward.
The shadow clone lands a front kick onto the ensuing abomination's torso, stumbling it back. Jim's duplicate maintains his distance from the mutant shinobi wielding the kunai, wondering how much of its prior training as a human it remembers. During a brief skirmish, he estimates the Red Zetsu's skills to still be around high Genin to low Chūnin level before ripping the abomination's heart out from its back. Despite their memory retention, Jim's doppelganger discerns how sluggish and clumsy the mutant shinobi's attacks are.
He readies himself into a defensive stance, allowing the flesh-eating ghoul to lurch closer. The replicate's foot impacts the Red Zetsu's temple before whipping his heel back into its jaw. He jumps and sends the mutant hurling backward with a rapid kick to its torso. The Red Zetsu slams into a wall, forcing it to release the kunai; Jim's imitation catches the blade before stabbing it through the abomination's hands into the wall above its head.
After absorbing the cannibalistic fiend's chakra, Jim's shadow clone concentrates it into his fist. He drives a powerful uppercut into the struggling mutant's stomach, causing it to dry heave. "I'm about to make you lose your breakfast," without remorse, the clone again rams his fist at full speed into the captive abomination's abdomen, "Lunch." Blood spills from its mouth as he unleashes another devastating left hook onto the Red Zetsu's liver, "And your dinner, my ninja." The duplicate steps back with a big, toothy grin as more blood with chunks of human flesh gushes from the zombie-like creature's mouth.
With immaculate timing, he sidesteps the mutant Inuzuka, already back on its feet, lunging after him, "Oh no, you don't!" before sweeping the back of its knee—his hand shifts over a few seals. The wall behind the Red Zetsu, bound against it, morphs and contorts. A stalagmite punctures the abomination's pelvis. The mutant Inuzuka stumbles forward, falling face-first onto a now phallic-shaped protrusion that pierces the cannibalistic fiend's skull out of its throat. The clone rushes forward, laughing like a madman as he dislodges the other Red Zetsu's skewered hands from the wall, shoving them atop the Inuzuka's head and lodging the kunai inside its skull.
The shadow clone takes one last drag of the now-spent cigarette resting in its mouth. Despite absorbing a diminutive quantity of chakra from the Red Zetsus, the sapphire blue energy remains unstable due to compatibility issues with the clone's chakra network. Jim's clone shifts through a sequence of hand seals; electricity fizzles around his body and dissipates. A subtle electric hum projects high-frequency electromagnetic waves several kilometers around the surrounding area and back to himself.
Straightaway, the replicate uses Teleportation Jutsu, retreating further into the ruins, away from the Red Zetsus swarming his previous location. In a distant portion of the impoverished metropolis, he focuses on his remaining chakra, partitioning and maintaining a steadfast separation from any prior victim's or mutant's divergent 'Jutsu Juice.' The imitation's atypical methods of chakra control enable him to expend less than a fourth of the foreign substance, distilling, stabilizing, and reintroducing it piecemeal back into his reserves.
A shinobi of the Hidden Stone Village (Iwagakure) detects the subtle adages of encroaching genjutsu. The Iwo-nin charges the bolt handle on his rifle, aiming at a potential threat's general location. "Come on out, you socialist coward; I know you're there," he whispers. The shadow clone pounces from behind, flabbergasting the unwary infantryman, yet the Stone shinobi reacts with superhuman speed. He swings his rifle's shoulder stock at Jim's clone.
Without a sound, the duplicate counters, shifting the ground to deflect an incoming blow before stunning the stone shinobi's limbs using swift, sharp jabs to his joints. The doppelganger's elbow smashes the infantryman's temple, causing hairline fractures along the skull. Without equilibrium, the Iwo-nin struggles for his life as the clone grapples his neck and limp arm, rolling backward into a submission hold. The shinobi gasps for air; visibility fades while his eyes tear up from the replicate's excruciating chakra absorption technique.
Jim's imitation squeezes and pulls, "I'm no communist or a socialist, you fascist dogs." The Iwo-nin's body goes limp with a sickening crunch. In stride, the shadow clone utilizes Earth Release to phase past an adjacent wall, ambushing another ASF (Allied Shinobi Forces) grunt. He whips his foot, striking a Whirlpool shinobi's popliteal (knee joint), crushing the tendons. The Uzu-nin falls to his knees; the clone thrusts its boot into the shinobi's face, shattering bone and cartilage. It reaches behind the near-unconscious infantryman's neck, grappling under the shoulder.
The duplicate trips the struggling Uzu-nin, driving him to the ground and snapping his neck. Without warning, a woman with dark skin and long dreadlocks teleports in front of Jim's clone as he spins on his shoulders, whirling his legs like a pinwheel. The rapid, revolving kicks stagger the Hidden Cloud (Kumogakure) kunoichi, causing her Autogun to fire a three-round burst at the ground rather than the clone's center mass.
With a fierce battle cry, the kunoichi blitzes Jim's clone with her Autogun's bayonet. He sidesteps the incoming charge, driving his elbow into her face. The shadow clone seizes the unsteady woman's arm and neck, forcing her to lean forward before swinging his leg back into her head, flipping the kunoichi over on the ground. The replicate pile drives his knee into the Cloud kunoichi's throat, finishing her off as she suffocates, gasping in desperation until her vision fades into eternal unconsciousness.
Jim's imitation clasps his hands into the Earth/Snake hand seal before tapping his foot on the ground. A near-perfect cut-out of a circle forms as the clone falls to the lower floor behind an unsuspecting Hidden Cloud shinobi.
The Kumo-nin spins around, drawing his revolver, "I'm your huckle-ber..." but the shadow clone, expecting the man to be somewhat further, thrusts his chakra-enhanced boot up into what it believes should be the shinobi's chin. Alas, the duplicate's forefoot rockets into the Kumo-nin's crotch, punting the poor man's testicles into his lower abdomen like an American football. The writhing infantryman's ability to sustain such a high note without faltering astonishes the doppelganger.
Jim's shadow clone snickers, "Oh ho, you're gonna want some ice on those, cowboy," the replicate grabs the Kumo-nin by the color of his BDUs before rolling backward, flipping the shinobi over. "After the devil dunkin' doughnut dips 'em in lava-hot cocoa!" Jim's clone steals the infantryman's revolver and fires, splattering the man's forehead like a rotting fruit. The Red Zetsus swarm the ASF's makeshift hideout, overwhelming the traps and barrier ninjutsu around the complex. "Tch, they're everywhere," the imitation grumbles.
The flesh-eating ghouls breach the walls and doors, closing in on the fresh scent of blood or any surviving ASF grunts within the skyscraper. Explosions and various jutsu erupt on the lower levels as the remaining shinobi try to fend off the endless hordes. Nevertheless, screams of terror and agony supersede the fading gunfire as the abominations overwhelm the ASF personnel before they can escape; the shadow clone's mind races, struggling to solve its current dilemma as the mutant hordes come baring down on his location again. A gruesome thought permeates his mind as he stares at the Kumo-nin's body. The clone straightens his hand, "Lightning Release: Synergistic Sabre…" A galvanic hue around the duplicate's hand assumes the shape of a blade of pure lightning.
The Red Zetsus give chase as Jim's doppelganger sprints down the streets, carrying a garbage bag dripping with blood over his shoulder. He jukes and jolts across the ruins, reaching into the trash bag to throw cauterized human remains while shouting, "YEET!" to distract the hordes. He throws a spleen on the ground, tripping a Red Zetsu before it can tackle him. This results in more abominations tripping over the accumulating mass. However, the vast hordes stampede over the mutant mound in full pursuit of the shadow clone.
Jim's clone pulls a severed head from the garbage bag but is stunned by the ghoulish spectacle. The replicate bursts into uncontrollable laughter while holding the whirlpool shinobi's head by its red hair. The Uzu-nin's aghast facial expression and jaw bounce with each frantic step, almost as if it is talking. "Datteba-YOO! Datteban-EEE! Dattebas-AAA!" the shadow clone jeers, mocking the familiar catchphrases of those native to the Village Hidden by Whirling Tides. Jim's imitation rolls the bloody sack off his shoulder, swinging it like a club at an upward angle, "Choke on my sack, ya skin jerkin' flesh junkie!"
The Red Zetsu catapults off an overpass and tumbles into a blazing inferno, babbling and screeching like a Tasmanian devil as the rebar protruding from the ruins scorches and skewers its rotting carcass. The clone uses genjutsu to conceal himself within a desolate intersection as the hordes redirect their attention.
"W-what in the actual fu… Hey!? HEY!" a shinobi racks the charging handle of his LMG (Light Machine Gun), aiming it from an open window.
"Jackpot!" Without delay, the shadow clone uses Substitution Jutsu to avoid the incoming machine gun fire piercing the air and shredding a log in his prior position. 'Took 'em long enough… perhaps another pass around won't be necessary.'
Panic and confusion proliferate the medium-scale refuge, housing dozens of surviving ASF infantry. An all-hands-on-deck situation erupts as every able-body individual takes defensive positions within the makeshift base.
"That goddamned gutter slut was chummin' the FOB with our comrade's remains!" the shinobi rages. The cannibalistic fiends converge upon the outpost like ants, diverting most of the ASF platoon's focus away from the shadow clone. Nevertheless, the few Wood Release users stationed within the compound cause a sizable albeit temporary dent in the endless hordes.
"Gutter slut!?" Jim's shadow clone chuckles, chambering a bullet in the dead Cloud kunoichi's Autogun, 'They've even caught on to my little scheme. No worries, it's far too late now; their stupid ass-holes are about to be fucked six ways from Sunday! And that's no cap.' The fierce volley of jutsu and chakra conducting rounds, pinning the duplicate within the city ruins partitions, enabling the doppelganger to return suppressive fire, coercing the shinobi to take cover. Jim's clone empties the magazine but manages to damage the LMG; he reloads the Autogun and switches from full-auto to semi (single shot).
Subsidiary Gunfire and jutsu of every element lambast his position, forcing him to retreat as more shinobi use Nature Transformation to enhance the lethality of their munitions. Regardless, the mutants overwhelm the stronghold's defenses, smashing past the barricades and congesting the interior. The abominations corner many of the shinobi inside as they formulate a valiant last stand; some manage to escape, vaulting from the windows where the shadow clone awaits, grinning ear to ear.
The shadow clone racks the Autogun's charging handle, "pop-a-bitch no-jutsu…" and fires, picking the shinobi from the air like clay pidgins, "Get some, get some! C'mon baby, get some!" The grunts, unlucky enough to survive being shot, plummet into the gathering hoards, where the zombie-like creatures dismember them before they can even scream. "Get some, get some, c'mon c'mon!" The abominations, scaling the skyscraper, take notice and lunge at the deserting shinobi, tackling them out of the air.
"Get some, get some, come on! Get it, come on! Get some, get some, yeah, yeah, yeah! Gotcha, you dried up dingleberry!" Amidst the skirmish, the clone's depleting ammunition runs out, resulting in a distinct click with each trigger pull, "Oh, come on, man!" Furthermore, handfuls of the residual shinobi persist in leaping off the building like flees and escaping, 'There were more of them hiding out in there than I thought; I sure kicked the hornet's nest this time!'
Rather than leave, the Anbu captain, in charge of the FOB (Forward Operating Base), stays behind to evacuate his comrades, 'It's hopeless; we haven't got a prayer.' Unable to escape, the shinobi within the compound can see the writing on the walls as more mutants continue bearing down upon the base. One after another, shinobi of various hidden villages begin taking their own lives rather than endure the horrific fate that awaits them all. Anbu Captain Panther remains speechless about his deteriorating circumstances as the stages of chakra exhaustion worsen.
'That vile skank… S-she came and dusted us! Like we were nothing.' A top-ranking shinobi in the Village of the Bloody Mist, capable of holding his own against the Mizukage, is now alone and hopeless. With nothing but the screams of his fellow shinobi echoing throughout the halls for company, Panther whispers a silent prayer to himself before cocking a shotgun and placing the barrel against the roof of his mouth.
'I'm sorry, everyone… I've failed all of you. May you all find peace in the Pure Land.' With the last of his chakra, the Anbu captain pulls the trigger, bespattering the wall with brain matter before the Red Zetsus break down the barricades and consume his remains.