Hinata: Byakurenden
The Sage of the Desert
The wind died, the storm of sand dissipating into the still night air. Shukaku's massive form now loomed over them, a towering silhouette of twisted sand and malice, bathed in faint moonlight. The oppressive energy of his presence lingered, pressing down on them like a suffocating weight, yet no sound came from the monstrous figure. He was utterly still, his jagged claws frozen mid-sway, his glowing yellow eyes fixed on the group with a piercing, unblinking intensity.
The desert, once alive with the chaos of his arrival, was now a void of sound. No whisper of wind, no rustle of shifting sand—only the strained breathing of those who faced him. Shukaku's immobility was almost worse than his earlier chaos, the stillness crackling with unspoken tension as though the entire desert held its breath, waiting for his next move.
His body was immense, grotesque, and alien. The sand that formed him rippled as if alive, shifting and flowing in erratic patterns that never settled. Jagged spines jutted from his hunched back, forming a chaotic, natural armor. His limbs were thick and clawed, each movement grinding like stone against stone. The air around him was dense with chakra, an electric charge that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. His enormous tail swayed behind him, dragging slowly across the sand, carving deep furrows into the earth with each swing.
Shukaku's face, round and almost absurdly chubby, was anything but comical. His oversized mouth, brimming with uneven, jagged teeth, seemed permanently twisted into a deranged grin. His hollowed-out eyes were pits of deep yellow, glowing faintly as though lit from within by some infernal fire. The markings on his body—the blue, swirling seal—began to glow faintly, illuminating the surrounding dunes with an eerie, otherworldly light.
For all his hulking bulk, he moved with an unsettling fluidity, his every step sending tremors through the earth beneath them. When he flared his nostrils, a powerful jet-stream of air burst from them, scattering loose sand and threatening to bowl them over entirely. The sheer force of it extinguished their campfire, plunging them into near-total darkness save for the faint, pulsating blue light of his seals.
The group instinctively tensed, readying themselves for the worst. Naruto's fists clenched as he glanced toward Sasuke, who was already calculating his next move, his Sharingan glowing faintly. Even Kankuro, despite his evident fear, reached for his missing puppets out of habit, his hand twitching at his side.
Shukaku glared down at them, his golden eyes flicking over each person in turn. He barely acknowledged Kankuro, pausing only slightly longer on Naruto and Sasuke. But when his gaze fell on Hinata, it lingered. His eyes narrowed slightly as if appraising her.
And then, Shukaku spoke.
"We've been expecting you."
The words boomed out in a shrill, high-pitched voice that shattered the tension as effectively as a kunai to glass. It was not the guttural roar of a demon ready for battle, not the righteous fury of a being bent on vengeance. Instead, it was loud, grating, and… almost playful.
Hinata flinched in surprise, her heart racing from the sheer volume, but she couldn't help the flicker of confusion that passed over her face. Naruto, caught mid-preparation for a Rasengan, froze, blinking in disbelief. Sasuke's sharp focus faltered for a moment, his Sharingan flickering. Even Kankuro, whose terror had been palpable seconds ago, was now gaping in bewilderment.
Shukaku, entirely unfazed by their reactions, continued, his massive form bending down so that his enormous golden eye could level with Hinata. "Things in this world have gone awry these past couple years, and it's up to y'all to fix it."
"Y-you've been… waiting for us?" Hinata stammered, her voice trembling as much from shock as confusion. She had expected rage, chaos, destruction—anything but this. Why would a Tailed Beast be waiting for them? How much could it possibly know about the state of the world?
"Indeed!" Shukaku chirped, tilting his massive head with a toothy grin that might have been endearing if not for the razor-like edges of his teeth. "Ever since that fight you had with us, missy. You scrambled up our seal real good with that attack of yours!" His tone was casual, almost cheerful, as though they were old acquaintances catching up rather than adversaries meeting under ominous circumstances.
Hinata blinked, caught entirely off guard. "I… I'm sorry!" she blurted out, bowing reflexively, her Nichiren Byakugan still active as her instincts warred with her manners. She quickly caught herself mid-bow, straightening as realization dawned. "Wait… I messed up the seal? How?"
At this, Shukaku paused, his expression (or what could pass for an expression on such an inhuman face) thoughtful. His glowing eyes narrowed slightly, his massive claw scratching at his head, dislodging small cascades of sand. The contemplative silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension.
It was Kurama who finally broke the quiet.
"You're not Shukaku, are you?" Naruto's voice was deeper, gruffer, and unmistakably not his own. As Hinata turned, she saw the change immediately. Naruto's blue eyes had been replaced by a deep, glowing crimson, his pupils slitted like a fox's. Kurama's presence radiated from him, and for the first time since Shukaku's arrival, the tension in the air spiked once more.
Shukaku—or whatever stood before them—sighed heavily, his massive frame shifting as though burdened by the question. "Ah, the Sand Demon's nosy big brother," he said, his tone carrying a faint trace of exasperation. "Of course you'd figure it out first."
The massive form of Shukaku began to shift, the sand cascading from his body like a waterfall. His form shrank and contorted, the glowing seals dimming and fading as the sandstorm around him stilled. When the last of the sand settled, it revealed a figure standing in the desert's eerie glow.
It was Gaara—or someone who looked like Gaara. His red hair was now a pale, sandy brown, and his once teal eyes had transformed into the same glowing gold as Shukaku's. The kanji for "love" etched into his forehead glowed faintly, mirroring the seals that had adorned Shukaku's form. He stood tall and composed, his gaze sweeping over the group with a calm intensity.
"Wait… what the hell is this!?" Kankuro shouted, taking a stumbling step forward. His voice was filled with disbelief, his hand twitching as if searching for his absent weapons. "Are you trying to tell me you're not Gaara? Then who the hell are you!?"
The figure smiled faintly, the expression both familiar and alien. "We are Gaara," he said, his voice soft but resonant, carrying the cadence of multiple voices speaking as one. "And we are Shukaku. But at the same time… we are neither."
The desert air seemed to grow colder as the words hung between them, their implications vast and incomprehensible. None of them dared to speak, their minds racing to make sense of the being that stood before them.
Kankuro snarled, his fury bubbling over. "Don't give me that cryptic crap! Just answer the damn question! What are you!?" He took a menacing step forward, only to have Sasuke's arm shoot out, barring his path. Kankuro glared at the Uchiha, but Sasuke didn't so much as flinch, his Sharingan fixed on the figure before them.
The strange not-Gaara tilted his head, almost curious at Kankuro's reaction. "That kind of ambiguous talk is just like how the old man used to be," came Kurama's growling voice from Naruto's mouth, his crimson eyes narrowing dangerously.
"We suppose that is also to be expected," not-Gaara replied with a nod, unperturbed by the fox spirit's hostility. His golden eyes swept over the group, lingering on Hinata. "For when the young missy struck our seal, she caused a chain reaction. The consciousness of Shukaku, and all his previous Jinchuriki hosts, including the old Sage of the Six Paths, merged into one being… and the thing that emerged from that merger was us."
Hinata's breath caught in her throat, her pulse quickening. "How did I…?" Her voice faltered, her words trailing off as the weight of his statement sank in. The memory of that moment burned vividly in her mind—her Jyūken strike landing squarely on Gaara's seal, the surge of Kali's chakra mingling with his own. She had acted on instinct, never imagining the consequences.
"It would seem the timing of your strike, combined with the special chakra of a reincarnated being, was the catalyst," not-Gaara explained, his voice calm but edged with something inscrutable. "At least, that is our current theory."
Kankuro let out a bitter laugh, his hands shaking as his rage overtook him. "So what?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You're telling me my brother is dead!? That's what you're saying, isn't it!?" He lunged forward again, only to have Sasuke step fully into his path this time, his Sharingan gleaming with warning.
"Not dead," The boy replied gently, his gaze flicking to Kankuro with something almost like pity. "Gaara still lives within this consciousness, as do the others. We are… a congregation of minds, a fusion of all who have touched Shukaku's essence. Gaara is still here. He is us."
"Don't buy it for a second," Kurama snarled, his crimson eyes glowing with disdain. "You're saying you swallowed the old man too? Ridiculous. There's no way someone like him got eaten by you."
Not-Gaara shook his head slowly, his expression one of quiet patience. "Do not misunderstand, lad. It was not the full consciousnesses of the others that merged—only the fragments left behind within Shukaku. Pieces of their souls. Surely you must know of this phenomenon, Kurama. Do you not carry the echoes of your past Jinchuriki within you?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. For the first time, Kurama fell silent, his sneer fading into something more subdued. His crimson eyes dimmed slightly, and Naruto's body stiffened as if Kurama's presence was retreating. Whatever the fox was thinking, it unsettled him enough to withhold a retort.
Hinata swallowed hard, guilt twisting her insides. She took a hesitant step forward, her hands trembling at her sides. "If what you're saying is true…" she began, her voice wavering. "Then this is my fault. I caused this. I… I didn't mean to, but—"
"Do not bear unnecessary guilt," not-Gaara interrupted, his tone firm yet strangely compassionate. His golden eyes met hers, steady and unwavering. "The fault lies not with you, but with the circumstances that led us here. What has been done cannot be undone. All we can do now is move forward."
Kankuro let out a strangled growl, his fists trembling at his sides. "Don't act like you're some wise sage, you bastard!" he shouted, his voice raw with pain. "You've been hiding out here while our village burned! You let them take everything from us! You let my brother—" His voice cracked, and he turned away, his anger dissolving into something far more vulnerable.
Not-Gaara's gaze softened, but he said nothing. The weight of his silence only added to the tension, the desert air thick with unspoken emotions.
Sasuke's voice cut through the quiet, cold and sharp. "Enough," he said, his eyes never leaving not-Gaara. "You've given us answers, but not enough. If you want us to trust you, start explaining what you're here for. What do you want from us?"
The golden eyes shifted to Sasuke, narrowing slightly as a faint smile ghosted across his lips. "We are here to set things right," he said simply. "But whether you choose to leave it to us… or stand in our way… is entirely up to you."
Kankuro's glare intensified, his fists trembling as he took a step forward, his voice laced with fury and sarcasm. "Leave or stand in your way? What the hell is that supposed to mean? We don't even know what to call you, let alone trust you!" He spat the words, his tone sharp and biting, daring the figure before him to give a satisfactory answer.
The boy regarded Kankuro with a calm that bordered on unnerving. His piercing yellow eyes held no anger, no malice—just an unsettling serenity. "Call us as you please," he said, his voice steady, though a faint edge of weariness crept into it. "The only unified identity we can claim for ourselves is the Sabaku no Sennin—the Sage of the Desert."
Kankuro scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Sage of the Desert? That's convenient," he muttered. "You still haven't answered the question. Why should we trust you? What proof do we have that you're not just another monster with a fancy title?"
The Sage inclined his head slightly, as if considering the question. "Trust is earned, not given," he said simply. "But you must understand, we are here for the people of this land. They are like our children, and this desert is our body. We cannot abandon them, but neither can we entrust their future to outsiders." His golden eyes swept over the group, resting briefly on each of them before returning to Kankuro. "It is not a matter of trust, but duty."
Kankuro clicked his teeth, his gaze dropping to the sand beneath his feet. For a moment, it seemed like his anger might give way to despair. But then he snapped his head back up, his eyes blazing. "And what about your duty before this?" he demanded. "Where was this almighty Sage of the Desert when Sasori took over? When our people were slaughtered? When my brother—" His voice caught, but he forced himself to continue. "You claim to care about this desert and its people, but you let them suffer! You let everything we had be taken away!"
The Sage's expression remained unreadable, but a faint shadow of regret passed over his features. "You are correct," he admitted. "We failed. When we first came into being, we were incomplete—fractured. Chaos consumed us, leaving us unable to act. It is only now, with the presence of the reincarnations of Asura, Indra, and Kali, that we have regained clarity. For that failure, we offer no excuses, only our deepest apologies."
Kankuro clenched his fists, his teeth grinding audibly. "Apologies won't bring back what we lost," he growled. "And it sure as hell doesn't give you the right to decide what happens next."
"Even if we believe you," Sasuke interjected, his voice cold and sharp, "what makes you think we can just turn around? We're shinobi. We were hired by the people of this desert to complete a mission. You say these people are your children, but it sounds to me like you don't know the first thing about what they actually want."
The Sage turned his gaze to Sasuke, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Perhaps. But the reincarnations of Asura, Indra, and Kali were not meant for this desert. The sand is our domain, just as the forests and rivers are yours. We shall be the ones to reclaim it. It is our destiny."
Naruto took a step forward, his usual confidence tempered by a quiet determination. "Destiny or not," he said, his voice firm but not unkind, "this isn't just about you. People are counting on us to do something about Sasori and his army. If we work together, we can make sure everyone gets their home back. Isn't that the point?"
Hinata hesitated, glancing at the Sage, then back at her teammates. Her heart was heavy with guilt, but Naruto's words gave her a sliver of hope. "I agree," she said softly. "If we work together, we can fix this—for everyone."
The Sage's gaze lingered on Hinata, his expression unreadable. For a moment, it seemed as though he might relent. But then he shook his head slowly. "We do not doubt your sincerity," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "But we cannot afford to risk it. This is not your battle. Turn back, while you still can."
The air grew heavy, the tension palpable. Kankuro stepped closer to the Sage, his movements slow but deliberate. Sasuke's Sharingan flickered, and Naruto's hands curled into loose fists. Even Hinata felt her pulse quicken as the unspoken threat hung between them.
"Is that a warning?" Sasuke asked, his voice low and dangerous.
The Sage didn't answer. Instead, his golden eyes gleamed with a quiet intensity, and the sand beneath their feet shifted subtly, as though alive.
It was clear now—this was not going to end peacefully.
"If you want us to back off," Sasuke continued, his tone sharp and cold, "you'll need to make us." His hand moved to the clasp of his cloak, unfastening it with deliberate precision. The garment fluttered to the ground, revealing the full extent of his mechanical arm.
The wind, restless and wild, swept through the desert, carrying with it the remnants of sandstorms past. It parted Sasuke's dark hair, exposing the glowing purple Rinnegan in his left eye. The sight of it, so otherworldly and alive, was like a challenge in itself. His left arm gleamed under the pale moonlight, a marvel of futuristic craftsmanship. Silver plates segmented each joint, held together by intricate nuts and bolts, giving the limb a sleek yet unrelentingly mechanical appearance. Each movement of his fingers produced a faint, metallic hum, as if the arm itself was more than just a tool—it was a weapon.
The Sage tilted his head, golden eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Sasuke's form. A faint sigh escaped him, carrying with it the kind of dismissive exasperation one might reserve for a petulant child. "You misunderstand something fundamental," he said, his voice measured yet heavy with condescension. "This isn't a fight. You couldn't even hope to stand against me. My intent was merely to deter you, but clearly, that approach has failed."
The words carried a weight that settled over them like a suffocating blanket, but Sasuke remained unfazed. His gaze was steady, unblinking, his expression a mixture of calculated focus and quiet disdain.
"Then stop talking," Sasuke replied, his voice sharp as a blade. "Show me."
The Sage let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Very well," he said, his hands rising slightly as the sand around him began to stir. The air grew heavy with chakra, dense and almost suffocating. The sand rose in twisting arcs, forming a protective halo around him. His golden eyes glinted, illuminated by the faint blue hue of seals etched into the sand's movements. "You'll see the gap between us soon enough."
Sasuke's Sharingan spun in his right eye, crimson with its three tomoe revolving slowly, watching every motion. Without a word, he raised his left hand, palm outstretched toward the Sage.
"Shinra Tensei."
The air seemed to compress in an instant, then explode outward with an invisible, crushing force. The ground rippled beneath their feet, the sheer power of the jutsu shaking the very foundation of the desert. Sand erupted in a violent cascade, swallowing the Sage's form in a chaotic storm of debris. The shockwave carried far, kicking up a whirlwind that sent their surroundings into disarray.
For a moment, the Sage's figure disappeared entirely within the churning sands. But as the storm subsided, the truth revealed itself. The Sage stood unmoved, the golden glow of his eyes cutting through the haze. The sands around him had risen in response to Sasuke's attack, forming an impenetrable barrier that absorbed the force of the Shinra Tensei with eerie ease. The ground itself seemed to have bent to his will, cradling him in its defense.
"Did you truly believe you could harm me with that?" the Sage asked, brushing a fleck of dust from his shoulder. His tone was calm, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his disdain. "The desert protects me as if it were my own body. Your efforts are wasted."
Sasuke's Sharingan spun in his right eye, taking in every detail, every movement. Yet his expression remained indifferent, almost bored. "Good," he said, lowering his hand slowly. "That means you might actually be worth my time."
The Sage tilted his head, his golden gaze narrowing slightly. "Time you don't have," he replied, raising one hand. The sand at his feet began to stir again, rising in twisting arcs. This time, the movement was purposeful, the chakra within it so dense that the air seemed to hum. "I warned you—this isn't a fight. You'll see soon enough that you're simply outmatched."
Hinata flinched at the overwhelming energy emanating from the Sage. "Should we stop him?" she asked, her voice low as her gaze flicked to Sasuke.
Naruto shook his head, his arms crossed casually. "Nah. This is the first time you've seen Sasuke really fight, right? Watch closely. He's just as strong as we are—maybe stronger."
Sasuke's smirk deepened, his eyes never leaving the Sage. "If this is your best, then you've already lost," he said, his left hand flexing slightly, the faint hum of his mechanical arm growing louder.
Sasuke moved swiftly, vanishing in an instant as his Rinnegan pulsed with a faint glow. It wasn't just speed; it was the space-time technique unique to his Rinnegan.
"Amenotejikara!" Sasuke called, his voice sharp as his form blurred out of existence.
In the blink of an eye, he swapped positions with a cluster of floating sand particles nearby, reappearing directly behind the Sage. His right hand shot forward, aiming to grab the back of the Sage's head and force him into the ground.
But the desert had other plans.
The sand surged with unnatural speed, wrapping around Sasuke's arm as though it had been lying in wait for him. It coiled tighter, grinding with a force strong enough to crush bone. Sasuke's mechanical left arm twitched faintly, the servos whirring to life before releasing a sharp, controlled pulse of electricity.
"Raiton: Nagare!" he shouted, his voice ringing with command.
The shock paralyzed the sand for a fleeting moment, its grainy grip faltering just enough for Sasuke to pull himself free.
"You're fast," the Sage remarked, his calm tone carrying a faint trace of intrigue. He turned, his golden eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight. "But speed alone won't save you."
With a slow, deliberate motion, the Sage raised his hand. The sand around him began to shift unnervingly, as though alive with its own will. It coalesced into orbs—dense, compact spheres of matter that hovered in the air around him.
"Sadōdama—Desert Walker Orbs!" the Sage declared, his voice ringing out over the desert.
At first glance, they seemed like ordinary sand techniques, but as they shrank, their true nature became horrifyingly clear. The orbs pulsed faintly, bending the light around them in ways that made them appear almost alive.
They weren't just sand anymore. They were sand orbs compressed so tightly that they defied logic. The air around them distorted, warping like heat waves on a desert horizon. These orbs weren't merely defensive. They felt like tiny black holes, so dense with matter and chakra that they seemed to pull at reality itself.
Sasuke's Sharingan spun rapidly, analyzing the orbs with cold precision. His muscles tensed as one of the Sadōdama began to quiver, its subtle movements betraying an ominous intent.
His left hand flipped open at the wrist, revealing a hidden mechanism. With a sharp click, a spear of lightning erupted forth, stretching outward in a brilliant, crackling line of energy.
"Chidori Eiso!" Sasuke shouted, the words punctuating the surge of power.
The concentrated lance of electricity shot toward the Sage with lethal precision. The air hissed as the spear surged forward, its heat distorting the space around it.
But before it could reach its mark, one of the Sadōdama shifted into its path. The orb absorbed the lightning effortlessly, pulling the energy into its dense core. The Chidori Eiso curled and spiraled around the orb like water disappearing into a drain. For a brief moment, the orb pulsed brighter, radiating the stolen energy, before settling back into its eerie, distorted stillness.
"Interesting," Sasuke remarked, his expression unchanging despite the setback. His Sharingan caught the faintest tremor in another Sadōdama, and he acted instantly.
The orb shot toward him at a speed that defied comprehension, streaking through the air like a meteor. Sasuke's left eye narrowed, and he raised his hand, activating the power of Tendo.
"Banshō Ten'in!" he called, his voice cutting through the air.
The gravitational pull of his technique clashed with the orb's movement, and for a moment, the two forces collided like magnets with identical poles. The resulting tension was palpable, the air between Sasuke and the orb rippling violently as the opposing gravitational energies fought for dominance.
Sasuke didn't resist the force for long. Instead, he used it to his advantage, allowing the repelling energy to propel him backward. He landed a safe distance away, skidding across the sand before coming to a stop. Dust swirled around him as he straightened, his Rinnegan glowing faintly.
"You're resourceful," the Sage admitted, his calm demeanor unwavering. The Sadōdama returned to their positions, orbiting around him with unnerving precision. "But it's pointless. These Sadōdama are absolute. They absorb everything—chakra, energy, even the forces of nature themselves. You cannot break through them."
Sasuke smirked, brushing a streak of sand from his cheek. "Absolute, huh?" His eyes gleamed with dangerous intent. "Let's test that theory."
The Sage observed Sasuke with an almost detached curiosity, his golden eyes gleaming with faint amusement. The Sadōdama floated closer to him, orbiting protectively as though aware of his unspoken command. Their compact density warped the air around them, creating faint ripples in the desert's stillness, as if reality itself bent in their presence.
"You cannot comprehend the scope of my power," the Sage said, his voice calm yet laden with authority. "This desert is my domain, and I am its master."
Sasuke's smirk widened, the wind tugging at his cloak as he stood motionless. "Master of the desert?" he repeated, his voice dripping with mockery. "Then let me show you what it means to be a master of nature itself."
Slowly, Sasuke raised his mechanical left arm, the intricate silver plates glinting faintly under the moonlight, bolts and gears clicking into place with a soft metallic hum. A small panel on the arm slid open at the base of his neck—precisely where Orochimaru's curse mark had once been burned into his skin. The edges of the opening glowed faintly as it began to absorb the surrounding natural energy. The air around him grew dense, thick with the raw power of nature itself.
Sasuke closed his eyes, focusing inward as his body adjusted to the influx of energy. His Sharingan and Rinnegan flared to life as he reopened them, their crimson and violet hues blazing with an eerie light. The ground beneath him cracked as waves of ominous chakra began to radiate outward, saturating the air with an almost oppressive force.
Flame-like markings spread across his body, originating from the panel in his arm. These markings mirrored the stage-one manifestation of Orochimaru's curse mark, swirling in jagged, organic patterns that crawled up his neck and across his face. The dark lines seemed to pulse faintly with the rhythm of his chakra, their fiery glow casting faint shadows against his sharpened features.
Sasuke's entire demeanor shifted as the natural energy took hold, his expression cold and predatory. His once-fluid movements became unnervingly precise, his presence exuding a feral intensity that made the very air vibrate.
The Sage narrowed his eyes, his amusement fading. "Sage Mode?" he realized aloud, tilting his head slightly. "So you've learned to wield the energy of nature. Intriguing… but it changes nothing."
Sasuke ignored the Sage's taunt, rolling his shoulders as his mechanical arm flexed with a faint metallic whir. The chakra channels along the arm glowed brighter, harmonizing seamlessly with the natural energy surging through his body. His Sage Mode heightened his already razor-sharp instincts, the markings on his skin pulsing in sync with the energy flowing through him. The oppressive aura around him thickened, the vibrations in the air growing more intense with every breath he took.
"Amenotejikara!"
In an instant, Sasuke swapped places with a small rock behind the Sage, reappearing silently at his back. Before the Sage could react, Sasuke brought his mechanical arm forward, its servos hissing as the hand rotated, revealing another concealed mechanism.
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!" he shouted, releasing a massive fireball from a hidden nozzle in his wrist.
The roaring inferno surged toward the Sage, the heat so intense that the sand around it began to crystallize. Yet even before the fireball reached its target, Sasuke could sense the Sage's Sadōdama moving to intercept. The dense orbs darted into the flames' path, their gravitational pull dragging the fire inward, twisting and consuming it entirely until only faint embers remained.
"I already told you," the Sage remarked, his tone sharp, with a hint of condescension. "You're fighting the desert itself. Your flames are nothing more than fleeting sparks."
Sasuke clicked his tongue, retreating in a blur. "We'll see how much that defense can really handle," Sasuke muttered under his breath.
The Sage raised his hand, and the Sadōdama quivered in response. Their dense, black-hole-like surfaces seemed to pulse with an almost living energy, the air around them warping visibly. "You misunderstand," the Sage said, his voice turning colder. "These Sadōdama are not merely defense—they are destruction incarnate."
"Scatter!" he commanded.
The orbs exploded outward in all directions, their speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye. They dragged ribbons of sand with them, streaking across the night sky like falling stars. Each orb grew smaller and denser as they moved, their gravitational pull bending reality itself, leaving faint distortions in their wake.
Sasuke's enhanced senses kicked in, his Sage Mode allowing him to feel the chaotic flows of natural energy being torn apart by the orbs' density. One orb hurtled directly toward him, its trajectory unpredictable. Sasuke's Sharingan flared as he anticipated its path, and with a whisper of chakra, he vanished.
"Amenotejikara!" he called, swapping places with a lone cactus in the distance.
The orb missed him by mere inches, slamming into the cactus and obliterating it in utter silence. The absence of sound made the display all the more terrifying, as though the orb had erased the cactus from existence entirely. Sasuke reappeared several meters away, his mechanical arm crackling with chakra as he prepared his next move.
The remaining orbs hovered menacingly, orbiting the Sage like hungry predators. Their presence pressed down on Sasuke, each one a miniature disaster waiting to be unleashed.
"Chidori Nagashi!" Sasuke roared, unleashing a surge of lightning chakra that rippled outward in a wide arc. The crackling bolts of electricity lit up the desert, seeking the Sadōdama with violent precision.
As before, the orbs absorbed the attack, the electricity spiraling into their cores and vanishing into their endless depths. Yet Sasuke smirked—this was no mere offensive strike. His enhanced senses picked up on the subtle shifts in the Sage's control over the orbs. The orbs' gravitational pull had weakened ever so slightly, their density momentarily disrupted by the influx of lightning chakra.
"You persist in futility," the Sage intoned, though his brow furrowed faintly, the first crack in his calm demeanor.
"Not quite," Sasuke countered, his smirk widening. His heightened perception caught every detail—He wasn't just testing the Sage's defenses; he was learning their limits.
Sasuke raised his left arm again, the glow of his Sage Mode intensifying. His voice was steady, brimming with confidence. "Let's see if your absolute defense can handle this." The chakra channels on the arm pulsed brighter, and a faint hum filled the air as energy built within the mechanism. His index finger shifted slightly, revealing a hidden barrel, and with calm precision, he whispered, "Chibaku Tensei."
The effect was almost imperceptible at first. A faint tremor rippled through the sand as a small black sphere formed at the tip of Sasuke's extended finger. The orb hovered there for a moment, spinning slowly before it shot into the sky. As it ascended, the air around it seemed to distort, and the faintest tug of gravity began to ripple outward.
Naruto was the first to sense it. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat as the familiar feeling of Chibaku Tensei's gravitational pull began to take hold. "Sasuke!" he shouted, his voice laced with alarm. "Don't tell me you're actually using that?!"
At first, the others felt nothing. The desert was still, the faint wind brushing past them as if to deny the chaos that was beginning to unfold. But then, the grains of sand beneath their feet began to shift, pulling subtly toward the small black sphere now hovering high above.
The pull grew stronger, the sand rising in tiny spirals around their ankles. Rocks buried just beneath the surface began to unearth themselves, slowly at first, like waking from a centuries-long slumber.
Naruto's panic mounted as the orb's gravitational pull increased exponentially. A wave of red chakra burst from his body, forming a protective dome around Hinata, Kankuro, and the remnants of their camp. The chakra pulsed with raw, feral energy, its edges flickering like flames as it wrapped around them.
For a moment, both Hinata and Kankuro froze, their senses overwhelmed by the oppressive presence of Kurama's chakra. The air within the dome burned slightly against their skin, carrying a bitter, acidic tang that clung to their tongues and throats. The heat was suffocating, and the volatile energy radiating from the barrier felt as though it might consume them at any second.
Kankuro, usually quick to complain, clenched his fists tightly, forcing himself to look away from the crimson chakra that seemed to sear the very air around him. "This… this is disgusting," he muttered, his voice hoarse. His gaze darted toward the chaos beyond the dome, then back to the protective shield. "But I'd rather deal with this… whatever this is, than get caught out there."
Hinata nodded silently, her hand gripping the fabric of her robe tightly. Despite the volatile, almost malevolent nature of the chakra, she understood Kankuro's sentiment completely. Kurama's protection, as dangerous as it felt, was preferable to the unrelenting pull of Sasuke's technique.
The Sage stood still, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched the phenomenon unfold. His Sadōdama drifted closer, circling protectively around him like a silent council of advisors. He didn't speak, nor did he act, as though waiting to see just how far Sasuke intended to go.
The black orb's pull intensified. Sand erupted from the ground, spiraling upward in wide arcs like a great serpent coiling toward its prey. Rocks the size of kunai began to lift and spin, joining the swirling mass that grew larger with every passing second. The hum of the Chibaku Tensei deepened, reverberating through the air and sending vibrations through the ground beneath them.
"What… what is that?" Kankuro stammered, his usual bravado faltering as he pressed himself against Naruto's chakra dome. His eyes darted between the growing mass above and the ground beneath them, where cracks began to form. "Is that thing pulling the whole desert up!?"
The Sage remained quiet, though his calm demeanor flickered for the first time. His gaze turned to the black orb, watching as it swelled in size and strength, its gravitational force now dragging entire dunes upward. The sand that had once made up the landscape around them was rapidly depleting, replaced by an enormous crater.
And then, the desert itself began to give way. Ancient ruins buried deep beneath the dunes—monuments of forgotten civilizations—emerged from their sandy graves. Broken pillars, shattered statues, and crumbling walls were wrenched skyward, their weight no match for the relentless pull of the Chibaku Tensei. The echoes of a time long past now floated upward, joining the spiraling chaos.
"What madness drives you to this?" the Sage finally muttered, his voice low and edged with disbelief. His Sadodama quivered around him, sensing the growing danger, but he held them back, unwilling to act just yet.
The Chibaku Tensei continued to grow, the once-small orb now a massive celestial body hanging in the sky like an artificial moon. Its surface gleamed faintly, covered in layers of sand, rock, and ancient debris, its pull now distorting the very air around it. The light of the moon above seemed to warp as though bending around the orb's immense gravitational field.
"You Leaf Shinobi are mental!" Kankuro shouted, his voice rising in pitch as he stared at the destruction. "What the hell is that thing!? You're gonna wipe us all out!"
The Sage's golden eyes flickered with something unspoken—unease, perhaps, or maybe the first inkling of doubt. He raised his hand slightly, commanding his Sadōdama to tighten their orbit around him, but he didn't launch them forward. "Your methods… border on lunacy," he remarked coldly. "But even this display… will not be enough to shatter the desert."
Sasuke, unbothered by the growing tension, smirked as he raised his left arm higher. The chakra conduits along its length glowed brighter, and his Rinnegan shone with a fearsome light. He flexed his fingers, and the orb above them quivered, its gravitational force reaching a deafening crescendo.
The winds whipped violently, the very air feeling as though it might be sucked into the orb. Sand and stone crashed together in the growing mass, now far larger than anything the Sage had anticipated. As the ruins and the land itself were devoured, Sasuke's voice rang out clearly.
"Let's see if your desert can handle this."
And then, with a crackle of electricity, the air ignited. Lightning erupted from Sasuke's mechanical arm, arcs of blue and white energy ripping through the atmosphere with a deafening roar. The electricity raced upward toward the massive orb, latching onto it like a living thing. As the lightning struck, it began to twist and writhe, coursing through the Chibaku Tensei and illuminating every fragment of debris it had absorbed. The sand, stone, and shattered ruins within the orb glowed faintly, veins of pure energy running through them like molten rivers.
The orb began to transform, its shape contorting as the lightning merged with it, bending the debris to Sasuke's will. The fractured remnants of an ancient civilization rearranged themselves, forming the outline of a colossal beast. Its jagged claws and fangs jutted outward, its skeletal wings spread wide as though ready to blot out the stars. Its eyes flared to life, twin orbs of searing electricity burning with malice, casting an unearthly light across the battlefield.
The hybrid creation hung in the air like a divine judgment, its massive form vibrating with destructive energy. The ground trembled beneath its overwhelming presence, the sand around the battlefield shifting and rising as though bowing to the beast above. The hybrid wasn't just an attack—it was a declaration of Sasuke's mastery over destruction and creation alike.
The Sage's Sadōdama quivered in response, their movements now sharper, more erratic. They hovered closer to him, circling protectively as though they could sense the danger that loomed above. The Sage's golden eyes narrowed, his calm façade cracking ever so slightly as he took in the monstrous construct.
Sasuke's voice cut through the growing tension, cold and commanding. "Raibaku Tensei!" he shouted, thrusting his arm downward. The lightning beast responded instantly, its head lowering as if heeding its master's command. Then, with a sound like thunder splitting the heavens, the monstrous construct began its descent.
The hybrid orb-beast plummeted toward the battlefield, dragging with it the weight of the Chibaku Tensei's gravity and the sheer fury of Sasuke's lightning. The energy radiating from it grew denser with every second, its descent warping the very air around it. The pressure was suffocating, the sound deafening, as though the world itself was bracing for the impact.
The Sage, for the first time, moved with urgency. His hand shot up, and the Sadōdama responded to his silent command. The orbs streaked upward, racing toward the incoming attack. Each orb quaked with power, their dense cores bending reality around them as they ascended.
The battlefield fell silent for a single, breathless moment as the two forces met. The Sadōdama slammed into the Raibaku Tensei, the collision sending out a shockwave so immense that the air itself seemed to ripple. The sky lit up in a blinding flash, the two forces locked in a brutal struggle for dominance.
The debris within the Raibaku Tensei churned violently, the fragments of ancient ruins smashing into the Sadōdama like celestial bodies colliding. The lightning coursing through the construct flared brighter, crackling against the impenetrable density of the orbs. The Sadōdama, in turn, absorbed and neutralized as much of the energy as they could, their gravitational pull fighting against the hybrid beast's overwhelming weight and momentum.
For what felt like an eternity, the battlefield was bathed in a light so intense it turned night into day. The two titanic forces seemed to hold each other in place, neither willing to give way. But then, with a soundless rupture, the collision reached its breaking point. The clash of the two titanic forces didn't create an outward explosion of fire and debris—it was far stranger, far more terrifying.
The collision folded inward, collapsing on itself as though the universe had torn open a wound and quickly sealed it shut. Light bent unnaturally, spiraling into the center of the clash, while sound was devoured entirely, leaving an oppressive, hollow silence. The air seemed to warp and ripple, like a mirage made solid, as reality itself struggled to reconcile the magnitude of the powers unleashed.
Then, with a soft, almost inaudible pop, the forces that had defied nature, gravity, and logic simply ceased to be. The immense energies, the towering constructs of destruction and defense, vanished in an instant, leaving behind nothing but a gaping void where they had once clashed. The remnants of the battlefield were eerily still, the oppressive weight of their battle replaced by an unnatural emptiness, as if even the desert itself needed a moment to comprehend what had just occurred.
The air was heavy, laden with an almost tangible tension. The horizon seemed blurred, distorted by the aftershocks of the impossible event. Sand and debris, which had been lifted skyward, hung suspended for a moment longer than they should have, as if reluctant to return to the ground. Finally, they began to drift down, whispering faintly as they settled back into place.
For a single, breathless moment, the entire world seemed frozen in time. No one moved, no one spoke, as if afraid that breaking the silence might invite the wrath of whatever unearthly forces had just been unleashed. The battlefield stood as a testament to the clash, its eerie stillness underscoring the sheer unworldliness of what had transpired.
Then came the sharp, piercing sound of a thousand chirping birds. Sasuke appeared in a blur, his left hand crackling with Chidori, the lightning casting eerie shadows across his face. His strike stopped just short of the Sage's throat, the electrical current humming with lethal intent.
The Sage's golden eyes widened momentarily, but there was no fear in them—only a dawning sense of resignation. His chest rose and fell heavily, the tension in his body slowly dissipating as he met Sasuke's gaze. The once-impenetrable confidence that had defined him was now fractured, replaced by a profound understanding of his own limits.
"You get it now, Sage of the Desert?" Sasuke asked, his voice calm but laced with triumph. "This is the power of just one of us reincarnations. You might be strong—but against all three of us? You'll be nothing more than dust in the wind."
The Sage didn't flinch, though his eyes betrayed a storm of emotions—frustration, disappointment, and an overwhelming sense of self-reproach. His earlier bravado seemed distant, hollow now in the wake of Sasuke's overwhelming demonstration. He had believed himself the master of this land, the arbiter of its fate. Yet here he stood, bested, his ultimate defenses unraveled by the relentless power of a single opponent.
"We see," the Sage said quietly, his voice stripped of its earlier authority. Each word was deliberate, weighted by the burden of his realization. "It would seem we have no choice but to do it your way."
There was no anger, no bitterness—only acceptance. He had underestimated them, not out of arrogance but out of a deep belief in his own responsibility to protect his home and its people. Now, however, it was clear to him that he could not do it alone. The weight of that revelation was heavier than any attack he had endured.
The Chidori fizzled out as Sasuke lowered his hand, his Sharingan dimming. Without sparing another glance at the Sage, he turned and walked back toward his discarded cloak. His smirk was faint but undeniable, the satisfaction of proving his strength written plainly across his face.
The Sage remained where he stood, his gaze fixed on the ground. For the first time, he truly felt the enormity of what he was up against. The reincarnations of Asura, Indra, and Kali weren't just names from an ancient prophecy—they were here, their power immense and undeniable. He wasn't their equal, and the desert he sought to protect wasn't enough to shield him from the forces they represented.
Kankuro rubbed his temples, his expression a mix of exhaustion and disbelief. "I don't even understand what's going on anymore," he muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I'm not gonna argue with it, if it's going to lead to another fight like that. You guys are seriously terrifying."
Naruto stretched his arms over his head, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief as he stepped closer to their campsite. "Man, Sasuke, that was awesome!" His grin was wide, his admiration unrestrained.
Sasuke didn't break stride as he retrieved his cloak, brushing some lingering sand off its folds. "Hn," he responded coolly, sliding his arms through the sleeves. "It's not about looking awesome. It's about getting results." His tone was clipped, but the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed his satisfaction.
Naruto rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "Yeah, yeah, Mister Cool Guy. We all know you enjoyed it."
Sasuke didn't dignify the remark with a reply, instead pulling his cloak tighter as the wind picked up. Naruto shrugged, letting out a wide yawn as he stretched his arms overhead. "Man, I was finally getting some sleep before all this started. I'm hitting the sack," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned back toward the tent.
Kankuro shook his head, crouching by the fire to reignite the flames. "You Leaf shinobi are something else," he muttered, poking the embers back to life. He didn't spare another glance at the Sage, whose stillness seemed to unnerve him more than the aftermath of the battle.
The Sage, meanwhile, remained rooted where he stood, staring at the distant horizon. The earlier confidence in his posture had faded, replaced by a quiet solemnity. His golden eyes reflected the starlight, their gaze distant and unreadable.
Hinata hesitated, glancing between the others and the Sage. She felt the weight of something intangible pulling her toward him, a sense of responsibility she couldn't ignore. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped forward, leaving the comfort of the firelight behind.
As she approached, the Sage didn't move, his gaze fixed on the heavens above. Only when she stood beside him, her presence breaking the stillness, did he speak. "You do not have to feel responsible for what we are," he said softly, his voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of something unspoken. "Your actions may have triggered our creation, but they did not dictate what we would become."
Hinata's gaze followed his upward, drawn to the endless stars scattered across the desert sky. "I know," she replied quietly, surprising herself with the steadiness of her tone. "I don't regret what happened… but I feel like I owe you something, even if I don't know what."
The Sage turned his head slightly, studying her. "Owe us?" he repeated, a faint curiosity in his voice. "For what?"
"For leaving you with this burden," she said, her words slow, deliberate. "You didn't ask to become this… this Sage of the Desert. But it happened because of me, even if I didn't mean for it to."
The Sage exhaled, a sound that was almost a laugh but not quite. "We thought we understood the weight of our new existence," he said, his gaze returning to the stars. "Yet standing against the three of you… it made us realize how much we do not understand. Perhaps it is not you who owes us, but we who owe you."
Hinata tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why did you try to drive us away?" she asked. "You could've asked for our help, but instead, you fought us. Why?"
The Sage was silent for a moment, his expression contemplative. "At first, we believed it was our duty to protect this desert on our own," he admitted. "A foolish impulse, born of pride and fear. But after this fight…" He paused, his voice softening. "We are beginning to suspect that we were simply terrified of what you represent."
Hinata's breath caught, his words striking a chord deep within her. "I guess that makes sense," she said, her voice quiet. Her eyes swept over the wreckage of the battlefield—the uprooted desert, the obliterated dunes. "The power we have… it's hard to understand, even for us. If it weren't for Naruto and Sasuke, I don't know if I could bear it."
The Sage turned to her fully, his golden eyes meeting hers with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "Tell us, White Lotus," he said, his voice low but steady. "Why are you here? Sasori of the Red Sand is but a pawn of the Sun Goddess. You should leave him to us and focus your efforts on her directly. Surely you know where she is."
Hinata's shoulders tensed, his words cutting closer to the truth than she cared to admit. "You're right," she said finally, the bitterness in her voice impossible to hide. "I do know where she is. And I know that I'll have to face her eventually." Her gaze dropped to the sand at her feet. "But right now… I guess I'm just not ready."
The Sage studied her, his expression softening. "That is a comforting thought," he said. "To know that even one such as yourself feels fear… it reminds us that we are not alone in this."
"Everyone fears their destiny," Hinata murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign to her, yet familiar—like something Kali would say.
The Sage nodded, his gaze drifting upward again. "Perhaps," he said. "But fear alone cannot guide us. Tell us, White Lotus… what is it you truly desire?"
Hinata closed her eyes, letting the silence settle between them for a moment. When she opened them again, her resolve was clear. "I want to help you," she said. "I don't know where this mission will take us, but I know that helping you find your path is part of mine."
The Sage's golden eyes flickered with a faint glimmer of hope. "Then perhaps," he said, his voice tinged with gratitude, "we can walk this path together."
Chapter End
AN: Quite a few translation notes this chapter.
Gaara's new title is Sabaku no Sennin (砂漠の仙人）or literally, sage of the desert. He had a technique called Sadodama (砂道玉）which is literally "Sand", "Path", and "Ball", a kinda variant of the Gudodama that the Ten-Tails Jinchuriki used in Canon, just dressed up as an absolute defense to stay kinda in-line with Gaara and Shukaku's style.
Finally, Sasuke's Raibaku Tensei (雷爆天星）Ligntning Explosion Heavenly Star, would be the translation. It's kind of meant to take the place of Sasuke's Kirin technique from Canon, just merged with the Chibaku Tensei.