One might say that things were different now. One might say that things were very different since the Continent had been unified, since the world had been brought to heel and peace reigned through the land.
Unfortunately, this was not quite true and though peace did reign, war did too.
The invasion had shown part of what it was to they of the continent, and now the proper invasion from out West showed the truth to them all.
It didn't matter that there was peace, for mankind wanted war. It was in their blood, a craving for conflict.
Even as they were threatened with the fact that they could all be dying any moment now, that the war had truly come for them, that they were essentially dead men walking, the shinobi, the soldiers, all of them felt as if this were the moment that they were the most alive, that this was truly the moment that defined them.
That without it, they were merely going through the motions of life, as terrifying as war was, it was for them a release. It was not merely the soldiers that were experiencing this, it was not merely the shinobi, but the entirety of the Continent. Civilians moved with a purpose as they attempted to assist in the war effort, farmers worked to ensure every harvest was perfect, the blacksmiths ensuring that every bit of care was put forth into their creations.
Peace was good, peace was great, but only in War was their such single minded and communal purpose seen in the people of the Continent. A unified will that transcended any and all races and nationalities. The entirety of the continent was mobilized, was given purpose and it was all funnelled forth into the armies at the front.
Even as enormous siege weapons manned by the massive golems of the enemy were brought into position, hurling rocks the size of boulders, each one skipping like a stone across the lake, killing hundreds, even as their Jutsu wielders summoned down hellfire to burn yet more, even as their own were drowned beneath the sea of numbers that was the enemy, they pushed on forward, their eyes lit with the knowledge that this was the moment that they were truly alive.
From the mountains of the Iwa region where the fighting was marked by massive artillery bombardments that devoured companies of men with every salvo, the mountains and hills forcing them to all bunch up in predictable locations, making it extremely easy to mark targets for the artillery. The fighting being waged up and down treacherous cliffs and slopes where the slightest movement ensured that they were going to be falling to their deaths, even the shinobi at risk in these environs. Their enemies hurled at them wave upon wave of creatures, swarming them, uncaring if they died to do so. The greatest threats being grappled by half a dozen of the goblins and sent tumbling to their deaths below.
Weapons that would be considered truly horrific anywhere else were employed here, Konoha's fire Jutsu were being deployed here to terrifying effect. They had discovered upgrades to their Jutsu, no longer was their fire red, but now it had been upgraded to the terrifying blue flame, so hot that it melted the stone that they stood upon, molten rivers of it burning the feet of their enemies as the fire itself lit them aflame. Fireballs spat from the mouths of the shinobi were capable of tearing apart dozens of them in a single swoop, the nature of the terrain allowing for the pressure waves to simply kill many more without any visible wounds upon their bodies.
Across the way, in the Suna Regions, the massive defensive networks were not a mix of artificial and natural as those in Iwa were. These were one hundred percent artificial, walls and the like stretching for hundreds of kilometers, manned by hundreds of thousands of soldiers, tens of thousands of shinobi, all of them fighting day and night against a threat that was nigh on endless.
Their only methods that had been proven to work was the idea of constantly attacking, every time they had been attacked they would counterattack, every time there was a lull in the fighting they would attack, every time that the enemy showed a weakness they would be attacked. It was only with this constant aggression that they were able to beat back the horde that was pressing against their borders.
Attack attack attack was their motto.
With the puppet techniques that they had developed, it was something that they could afford to do without dying in droves and depleting their previous manpower further. Something that saved the Continental Shinobi forces many Shinobi, their sacrifices not necessary to grease the defences.
Still, they fought, their bodies holding the line against the enemy. It had been static for a month now, the shinobi in conjunction with the soldiers able to hold their ground.
But it had to change, there was no way that the equilibrium would be able to remain as it was for the time that they needed it to, they had to find some way to break it now before the enemy found their own way.
It was with this in mind that the Mitsugo volunteered to spearhead an experimental unit into the enemy lines and to then attempt their new Jutsu. It was something that was ridiculously dangerous from what they of the command team had understood, but it was not as if they were going to deny the request.
They too were looking for a way to break the stalemate and to have volunteers with experimental weapons was always something that was good to hear… so long as they did it away from the rest of the troops and didn't get anyone caught up in their little… thing… whatever it was.
They didn't want a repeat of whatever it was that green mist had been that had dissolved an entire company of soldiers and many times that in Goblins to a fine paste. There had been many a psychological issue caused by that one malfunctioning weapon.
There had been many experimental units deployed from the meat puppets that Orochimaru had brought, to the hurricane Jutsu (that had been a terrifying failure), to even an attempt at creating an artificial tsunami. Everything and anything that might work was being deployed regardless of how insane it seemed.
And so the order was sent down to allow for the Mitsugo to try out their new weapon that was apparently codenamed… Death?
Why not.
It wasn't like they were that original when it came to names as it was and if they wanted to call things death because it caused death then why not.
A better name could be brought forth if necessary.
The Mitsugo were readying themselves for a push straight into the enemy lines where they would be doing the amazing and insane task of trying to activate Death.
They had read the Scroll, they knew that it was something that had been written for them.
Summoning death who would then reap the souls of those in the surrounding area.
What could possibly go wrong?
They grinned at the idea of what they were about to do, a Jutsu called "Death?" that was just asking for someone awesome to happen.
It would be like calling something "explosion", it would have to be so explosive that it was the definition of the word, thus being completely awesome and totally worth the time to do stuff with and stuff and the Mitsugo just really wanted to make something go "boom".
Like really wanted.
And so they did, the team, all 20 of them were ready and waiting. They would be heading out into the middle of the enemy forces and then pulling out the summons. If things went according to plan they should be out again in a few minutes.
If it didn't then they were going to die, but that wasn't so much of an issue really. They were shinobi, dying on the field of battle was almost expected for someone of their station.
And so they grinned even wider and pushed forward, cheating just a little as they did so.
First was the creation of a vast chasm through the center of their lines, creating a path… through the air, the invaders that were in the way were sent plummeting to their deaths.
The second phase was the important part, where they then summoned walls to flank the path before filling it up again, trapping those that had survived the fall to suffocate amidst the broken corpses of their brethren.
And all of a sudden they had a clear route straight into the heart of the invaders. It hadn't even taken much effort at all, just 6 shinobi's worth of Chakra to do.
And with that their route was open and the team pushed their way forward, all the way forward, straight into the heart of the invaders, their faces tense, there was no awesomeness if they died here.
There were goblins, skeletons, trolls, golems and more on all sides of them. If the wall fell at any point they were going to have to fight their way through what promised to be a veritable horde of enemies and if they did it badly? They were going to have to abort the mission at best and die horribly at worst.
In either case, it would be a catastrophic failure and that could not be allowed to happen.
The Mitsugo still smiled however, it was times like these that the shinobi truly felt alive after all, diving into the middle of a hostile army and opening themselves up to retribution from all angles, ready to die at the slightest glare of the enemy.
Up and at 'em.
The speed at which they ran ensured that they would be there in a matter of seconds, the hard part was the summoning of the Jutsu, it would need 6 of them working together to supply the Chakra that was needed for something like this.
6 Shinobi's worth of Chakra was enough to summon 50 meters worth of wall, which meant whatever it was they were trying to do… was going to be the most awesome thing that they had ever done if this worked out the way they thought that it would.
The 'if' being implied of course.
They grinned at that idea, the possibility that it was going to be awesome was all the assurance that they needed to want to try something like this.
The shinobi leapt into the center of the enemy lines, hands already preparing the seals, their bodies in formation for a 6 person jutsu. The positioning had to be perfect or there would be a very high chance that they were going to get nothing but a massive dud which of course never went well when it came down to it.
You had to make sure that everything was in perfect place or there would be nothing but massive amounts of failure at the end of it all. Exploding generally counted as massive right? They might still kill a bunch of them even if it did fail.
The Mitsugo were ready and the future looked bright, whatever was on the other side of this was going to be amazing.
Arcane
Cold
Ice
Cold
Arcane
And it was done Death had been summoned into the world and it was going to be… oh.
That looked kind of scary.
From above their positions, the 6 summoners and their bodyguards could see the massive shrouded figure that had made itself known to them. One that was draped in a ragged robe of some kind, one that had the edges fraying from underneath it while the in its hands that looked as if they were from the skeletons themselves, it held a scythe that was likely the size of the walls behind them.
In fact, the entire figure was enormous, stretching all the way into the clouds and higher, its body hanging in the air like the most ominous possible thing in existence, staring down at them as if it were merely waiting for the chance to devour something.
The glowing red orbs that was the figure's eyes were the only parts of its face that they could see, the eyes that looked like they were judging them… even if it was merely a fiery red orb of some kind.
There was silence as it hung there, the entire battlefield ceasing for a single moment. Blessed silence that none had heard for weeks. All stared at it, all of them tense, waiting to see what it would do.
And then with a roar, it swept its scythe in a horizontal motion that cut through what seemed like everyone on the field.
Yet nothing.
The shinobi felt nothing.
They did, however, hear the silence…
Popping their heads over the walls for a brief chick, they eyes confirmed that perhaps things had not gone quite as according to plan as they would have liked.
Or maybe that it had but… well, the sight of countless dead creatures lying in the field in front of them would do nothing but invite fear from anyone who saw it.
Death but what was the actual reason? They would need to investigate this further.
They had minor wounds at best, but… it was like they had their souls ripped out of them, faces agape in fear.
The Mitsugo grinned at the sight of it even if they considered the ramifications of what they had done.
Completely change the everything was what they had done and probably not for the better while they were at it.
Oh well, they did get to learn a new and awesome Jutsu while they were at it and it as awesome.
The forces of the Mitsugo had pulled through and their experimental weapon had been made standard… if tightly controlled.
The manner in which it worked was far too dangerous to allow for casual use in all but the most extraneous of circumstances.
In short, it worked by targeting all those with injuries and killing them on the spot, there was no way for them to fight back, no matter what defences they had, no matter what seals they were using, no matter the bloodline, they fell dead in moments.
Dozens, hundreds, thousands, the Mitsugo nin who were able to use the technique were marked by the fact that they had a death's head inscribed upon their headbands. Their clothing coloured black and their faces covered by a death mask that resembled a skull.
They inspired fear amongst the forces of the continent and many were given to avoid them, even their own clan members, that much power concentrated into a single being was something that was terrifying indeed.
It was with luck therefore that they had shown no signs of rebelling, merely doing as they were told with little fuss or effort, as if they were fully compliant.
It was rather strange for such a powerful group of Jutsu wielders, but then again they were the Mitsugo and thus they were strange as it was.
Many a shoulder was shrugged and the Continental forces turned their attention back to more pressing matters. Like for example, the fact that the invaders were still a threat, though a much reduced one. The Death Jutsu (what else could you call something that summoned an enormous figure with a scythe?) couldn't affect those that were defined as the undead, but that didn't matter.
They were just a part of the rest of the forces that were employed by the enemy and the rest of them were very definitely vulnerable to the threat of the Mitsugo's new ability. One that was rapidly becoming a signature ability.
They pushed their way forward and engaged the enemy at all ranges, killing them in their tens of thousands. A simple task once the rules for the new Jutsu were worked out.
It would be deployed when the enemy was already wounded, when their own forces were unwounded and there was something that could be done in their escape… like running away very very fast.
Using it near allies never ended well, that one time there had been a field hospital that nobody had seen fit to disclose before hand? They had lost a few dozen good nin and soldiers from that particular mishap.
From then on a protocol was established upon where and how it would be used, primarily to prevent massed allied casualties.
To that end, a method had been worked out where they would spray the enemy with a truly ridiculous amount of Senbon needles, kunai, explosive tags or anything remotely similar and try and inflict as many wounds as possible before the Mitsugo moved in close enough that they could deploy the Jutsu. If it worked out, then an entire swathe of the enemy frontline would be destroyed in a matter of seconds, allowing for the well positioned Continental Forces to push their way forward and drive the enemy back.
As for the when it would be deployed, it was always at least a kilometer away from friendly lines, and in an area where there wasn't going to be friendly deployments for at least 500 meters. It was too risky otherwise. The users themselves were vulnerable and thus had to be kept safe so that they weren't going to be killed by their own Jutsu.
In the span of a month they were able to push forward and retake all the land that had been lost to the invaders, in another 3 they were able to drive them back to within a kilometer of the truly massive Purple Realm Gates themselves. Each one disgorging tens of thousands of creatures every second, one that required a truly constant bombardment of artillery to keep down, more of a chore than actual fighting at this point.
The soldiers merely poking their spears forward and trying to pick away at the attackers, hidden behind their now permanent defences, as the shinobi just hammered in Jutsu.
It was not exactly the climatic battle that they had been hoping for, but it was certainly something that demonstrated the value of the shinobi to the world. Without them, they would have been defenceless and likely wiped out by the combined forces of the invaders.
But at the same time, the soldiers were instrumental, providing the anvil for the hammer that was the shinobi, without them they would have been left defenceless and open to attack. The shinobi were best for rapid strikes into enemy territory, not so much when it came to sustained fighting.
A melding of the best parts of the shinobi, of the soldiers, of the Continental Alliance itself.
They had learnt how to fight as a cohesive unit and it showed in their resistance against the Purple Realms.
Things had changed… again.
But for the better this time, the continent was safe, it was stronger and it was more unified than ever… even if it did have to deal with the constant threat of yet more Purple Realms coming out of nowhere and killing more of their own people, of the civilians and more.
Regardless of the outcome, the Continent was a safer place.
It was into this however that things changed slightly.
Notably that of the birth of Itachi Uchiha who would come to play a pivotal role in the future of the Continent and his effect on the Uchiha clan over time.
The OAMU deployment had been successful and they had shown that they were indeed going to be very useful indeed when it came to their deployment against their enemies, but that was a given. What was more important was that they had managed to integrate themselves into the societies that they had been dropped with admirable efficiency.
The problems that had arisen when they had tried to deploy similar units, like the HeMUs and the fact that they stood out like sore thumbs had not been replicated. Indeed they had been singularly successful when it came to the deployment of the OAMUs and their ability to blend in. They had not gone insane like those in the previous generation, nor were their quirks large enough that they had become liabilities that could only be employed in either massive numbers or only singular instances.
There was no deploying a single team of HeMUs for they would call attention to themselves like nothing else given time, deploying hundreds of teams would do nothing but attract attention.
But now… now it was possible to deploy a single team of OAMUs to finally be able to infiltrate an enemy facility or world.
The Minds had been pleased with that little bit of information, to finally be able to do things that had been denied to them previous. Things that had the letters 'ubtle' and started with the letter 's'.
Was it really too much to ask for their saboteurs and infiltrators to behave like organics? True they were artificial intelligences and unable to comprehend the very idea of being something like a boring old organic, but they could at the very least pretend to do it well.
In the next universe, they went to, it would very possibly be filled with utterly boring and mundane organics which would make all of them stick out even further. And then the Minds would need to wipe them all out or restart time and hope the second… or fiftieth attempt turned out better.
But now they had the OAMUs! They had a chance now to do it in a single go without massive casualties and a restart!
What could be better to infiltrate an organic facility with than other organics? Organics controlling nigh on unstoppable (when unleashed) OAMUs?
It was a match made inside the Commander's soulscape, perfect and amazing.
It was just too bad that the OAMUs were so hard to build on their own. The fact that they needed organic wranglers meant that they were never going to be able to replace their easier to produce but less effective HeMU predecessors.
Unfortunate but there weren't any real alternatives, they had to choose willing organics for this after all. Trying to get something like conscripted organics was only asking for trouble down the line if they weren't 100% committed to the goal.
The Minds were finding it hard to judge what was going on as it was, what was all this stuff that the Organics did to communicate with each other? Sometimes they really wondered what the Commander had done to have the emotional core stripped out so ruthlessly, they wondered so that it wouldn't happen to them as well (conveniently forgetting they had been modelled after the Commander, damage and all).
Even now as they watched the OAMUs communicating, the common thread that ran through their thoughts was "what was the point of that?"
It was not as if the Minds truly cared, but it would be helpful to know what it was that was being said, or rather what the messages of what they were saying actually meant in empirical format.
It was not as if there was something that they could do to understand it all, organics were surprisingly dense if you didn't have an emotional core to understand them with.
No matter, the OAMUs would fill that role admirably and if they did not then it was always possible to go back to the drawing board and trying again, it wasn't as if they were not flush with the resource that was time, they were the Minds and reality bent to their demands after all, not the other way around.
Yet even still they were forced to watch their creations stumble through the basics of organic life, the basics that they had been forced to learn from scratch. Even then it was not some kind of intuitive understanding of the situation, but rather one learnt from rote instead of actually provided any kind of deep understanding.
Oh well.
"Good morning. How are you?" The baker said to the OAMU.
The model looked back, even as its AI core was working furiously to fabricate a response that would make sense to the man and also not do something ridiculous like possibly turn him into an enemy.
The problem came of course from the fact that there was an infinite number of responses that were available and the right one depended on an indepth knowledge of the organic psyche, the man's body posture, the man's expression, the man's scent, the man's sweat and the like.
So many little factors, all of them swirling about in the OAMU's core, attempting to parse the correct response.
The expression was one that could be characterized as friendliness due to the manner in which he had his lips upturned, the manner in which the corner of his mouths creased, the eyes, the relaxed body posture, the very distinctive lack of there being any kind of hostile weapons, a measured tone of voice…
The OAMU ran through the factors, placing them into a positive, negative light before taking away the one with the lesser factors and then placing the positive factors into categories to determine the level of positivity.
The negative factors which had been lessened were categorized as well but only those that crossed a certain threshold were considered.
All of it was coming together to tell the OAMU that this particular organic would respond very well to a positive overture.
This was then cross checked against the man's occupation, the status of their respective positions, the particular transaction that they were engaged in, the amount of people that were behind the OAMU in particular, waiting for their food.
And then a cross check of the time of day and the general information about the area itself.
Once this was all collated together the OAMU could finally offer a response to be sent to its Wrangler for evaluation and possible usage in an actual life scenario. This was not going to be a hand held exercise, the OAMU was on an independent mission to see how well it could function after a month of training. The Wrangler was on standby but would not interfere unless the response would prove to be catastrophic.
"I am well, how about you?"
Very good.
[Good. Send.]
The OAMU nodded mentally, proud of itself for being able to formulate a reply on its own, one that had been checked against all the databases of previous replies that it had made over the years and being able to do it all on its own with no help at all.
This was a good day.
"I'm doing good. Crazy night huh?" The baker replied.
The OAMU could only begin to panic profusely, this was not in the script, what kind of answer was this? It was totally out of left field and everything was going dreadfully wrong and the world was going to burn.
Oh Commander.
Oh no.
Crazy night?
Was it crazy?
What did he mean by crazy?
Could the night go crazy?
Was the night sapient?
Did that mean that the day was sapient?
Was the sun sapient?
Oh Commander, this was too much.
Abort.
Abort!