A/N: Here we go; bi-weekly updates, as promised.
Still recovering from my stint in the hospital, Dark helped immeasurably with this.
Every review truly does help, large or small, any feedback is better than nothing at all.
Just wanted to say, I appreciate you all! More feedback means faster updates! It's especially important, in these trying times. Every word counts and i appreciate you all! All these reviews really keep me inspired! Looking forward to hearing from you~!
As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than little 'ol me. I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time. Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story. Simple as that. In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!
Now then, the question you need to ask yourself, is this the prime Invincible universe...
...or one in which things go south?
You'll have to read and see~!
"We can either be the good guys, or the guys that save the world.
We don't get to be both...
...right?"
~?
Get Your Hands Dirty
Naruto hovered.
High above the skyline, where the air thinned and the clouds drifted like lazy titans, he hung suspended. The city stretched beneath him—Chicago, they called it. A sprawl of metal veins and glass organs, pulsing with life. From this altitude, it looked serene. Deceptively so.
Cities always lied from a distance. Peace was the illusion of height. Everything looked peaceful enough when you were this high up.
This was meant to be reconnaissance. Nothing more. He'd planned to fly a few circuits, around the city memorize the grid, stop the occasional crime to show that he could be trusted, maybe mark a few landmarks in that ridiculous American naming system. Chicago. Bah! It sounded like a sneeze someone tried to spell.
No one looked up as he soared past. Not a soul. Curious, that. In the wild, a hawk drew attention. Here? He could have been a meteor and no one would blink until he came crashing down into their cozy little lives. Either they were used to flying men, or they were blind in the ways that mattered.
Honestly, he pitied them. In the days that had passed since his encounter with War Woman he'd done his best to keep his head "down" as it were while he continued his mission. When he did interfere with humanity it was with quick, surgical strikes, and only against those he felt worthy of his time.
...well, most of the time.
Unlike that kidnapping ring he'd dealt with the other day. Messy bit of business that. He'd been...angry and it had shown. None of them survived.
You didn't mess with kids. There were some lines you didn't cross; some things you just didn't do. Even Dad didn't kill kids if he could help it.
Still, he'd gotten said brats back to their families, so all was well that ends well.
His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger. He needed food.
Then came the explosion.
Even from this distance he felt it ripple through the sky like a slap. A tremor of heat, sound, and smoke—followed immediately by another stomach growl that felt, somehow, louder. Naruto grimaced. Alien jerky didn't cut it outhere. Not anymore. He'd need to stop somewhere for a proper meal, assuming he could afford to pay.
Taking food from the weak was beneath him.
Still, hunger didn't bother him overmuch; the explosion did.
It wasn't clean. Not like a surgical strike, not like one of those neat, flashy villain displays he'd read about. This was messy. Chaotic. Desperate.
Bank.
Of course it was a bank.
To be fair, he hadn't meant to get involved. Not this time. But it wasn't as though he
He dropped from the sky in silence. No aura of intent. No flare. Just a blur of golden hair and quiet resolve, descending through the clouds like a falling promise. Wind shrieked around him, tried to pull at his coat, but he ignored it.
Then—impact.
He landed with the whisper of a thunderclap, boots cracking pavement like glass under pressure. Dust lifted in a halo. Water from a shattered fountain sprayed behind him, misting the air with a fine, bloody drizzle of concrete. The lobby had been gutted. Half its facade was gone, blown open like a peeled can. The scent of smoke and scorched metal hung thick. Screams echoed off the marble. Gunfire answered them, staccato and frantic.
In the center stood a man encased in garish red on black armor—chunky, overdesigned, the kind of suit that screamed insecurity. A plasma cannon hummed on one arm, while a red visor gleamed where his eyes should be; bright and synthetic. Did he even have eyes behind that thing? No way of telling. It was a passing curiosity, nothing more.
What was this one called...?
"Bow you fools!" Then the man started monologuing; in broad daylight no less! "Fear the might of Kill-Cannon!"
Naruto snorted. His lips almost twitched into a smile.
Almost.
"Kill-Cannon," He laughed. Not even a question. Just a tired acknowledgement. "Subtle."
The villain turned, cannon spinning up, visor gleaming.
"Who the hell are you supposed to—?"
He never finished the sentence.
Naruto moved.
Not with flair. Not with fire. Just intent.
Precision guided his body the way instinct guided predators. His footwork didn't blur—no theatrics, no wasted motion. But to everyone else, it must have looked like teleportation.
One second Kill-Cannon stood tall, posturing.
The next, Naruto was in front of him, hand extended.
Then came the sound. A crunch of metal. The hiss of plasma overheating. The soft, stunned gasp of a man who had just realized the world didn't revolve around his gun. Naruto's fingers clenched. The cannon buckled, its power core crushed like an egg between fingers. Then he was through, driving his fist forward into the man's armored chest. Just one punch. That was all it took. He didn't deign to look at the man as he moved past him—just walked forward, letting the armor-clad fool crumple behind him.
He paused only once.
"Next time," Naruto said, not bothering to turn, "Try robbing a hot dog stand. Fewer casualties."
The mangled mess of a man gurgled wetly, and at that, he finally glanced over his shoulder.
A puddle of bloody bloomed from the bastard's broken body and belatedly he realized he'd done more damage than he intended. Much more. Judging by the twit's increasingly weak breathing he'd broken most of his ribs, one of which must've done devastating damage to his insides. Had he accidentally killed him? Oops.
He grimaced. "And here I thought I'd learned to hold back properly...
Something kicked at his chest. He wondered if he should feel pity. Dad wouldn't have.
"Sorry," he muttered, stomping back to the slowly dying villain. "I thought you were stronger.
He raised his boot and stomped down on his skull.
Blood blossomed across his heel.
Make no mistake, this was mercy; better a quick death than one spent in slow agony.
Smoke curled like lazy fingers around the fractured lobby. Silence reigned—deep, complete. The kind of silence that only followed violence.
He heard a whimper, doubtless from a terrified onlooker.
Then nothing.
Naruto exhaled through his nose and brushed the dust from his sleeves, fingers trailing ash and bits of powdered marble. His hand lingered a moment too long on his jacket—an old habit, born of places where appearance still mattered.
Still a damn dumb name," he muttered.
A low hum answered him. Not mechanical—dimensional. A ripple through reality itself. The air to his left folded inward, blue light twisting as if space had suddenly forgotten how to behave. With a flicker, a tear opened in the world, spilling blue light across scorched concrete.
From the rift stepped a man. Not tall, but composed. His hair grayed at the temples. His face, mapped with old scars, didn't flinch at the smell of charred flesh. His eyes were tired—but not dull.
Cecil Stedman.
"Guess I should thank you," the man said, adjusting the collar of a high-cut suit that somehow remained spotless. "Kill-Cannon's been a thorn in our side for weeks." he glanced to the ruin mass of flesh that was the man's corpse. "Shame you left so little to interrogate."
Naruto didn't answer. He turned away, step quiet, posture easy. Not tense. Just... done.
"Hold up," Cecil called, stepping forward. "Not even gonna let me introduce myself?"
"You already did," he said, not stopping.
"Fair." Cecil's boots clicked as he stepped over the corpse—just a smoldering husk now, half-embedded in the tile. He didn't even glance down. "You move like a Viltrumite."
That made Naruto pause. His shoulders didn't twitch. He just... stood still. Still as the grave.
How much did he know? Had Nolan truly been so lax...?
"That a problem?" he asked.
"Depends," Cecil replied, his tone casual, but edged. "You planning to burn the planet?"
"…Not today."
Cecil chuckled. A dry, surgical sound. "Good answer."
He surveyed the room—tilted head, narrowed eyes, fingers tapping a rhythm against the flask now appearing in his hand. The silence stretched between them like a drawn wire.
"You're new," Cecil said finally. "Strong. Dumb enough to charge a guy named Kill-Cannon without flinching."
Naruto's stomach growled—loud and undignified.
"I was hungry," he said.
"So, what, you planned on robbing a bank but this guy beat you to it?"
A blond brow rose, wholly unamused. "Do I look like I need to rob a bank?"
"So why stop this guy at all?"
"He was noisy."
Cecil raised an eyebrow, drew a flask from his belt and unscrewed it. The scent of something sharp and metallic drifted from within. Naruto wrinkled his nose against it. What manner of foul concoction was that?
"Ah," the human retorted, taking a sip. "That explains it. Still, pride won't feed you, kid."
The timing was perfect. Naruto's stomach let out another protest, louder this time. A traitor in his gut.
He winced, just a little. Cecil heard it and smirked like a man who'd won a bet with himself.
"How about it?" he asked. "Want a job?"
(.0.0.0.)
The GDA headquarters sat hidden beneath the Pentagon.
To most, it was a myth. A whispered acronym on conspiracy forums, tucked between tales of lizard people and hollow moons.
To Naruto?
It was cold.
Not in temperature. In spirit.
Everything about the place was sterile. Polished floors. Glass walls. Lighting that buzzed just slightly too loud. The scent of disinfectant never quite faded. It wasn't just a base—it was a machine pretending to be a home.
Too human, he thought. And yet, not enough.
Cecil walked ahead, hands clasped behind his back, his coat flaring just slightly with each step. His boots echoed with a rhythm that matched the hum of generators buried deep beneath the facility. They passed labs full of blinking lights and faceless scientists. Bunkers lined with prototype weapons. Teleportation rings that hummed with latent energy. Cryopods—rows of them, encased in frost.
Naruto didn't ask what was inside. Some things you didn't need to know to understand.
Cecil finally stopped in front of a reinforced door. Titanium-weave. Sensor locks. Enough shielding to survive a small apocalypse—or contain one.
He could've broken through that with one hand tied behind his back. Of course, saying -or doing!- so would be in poor taste, so he didn't
"They'll be here in a minute," Cecil said, tapping a finger against his earpiece. "Play nice."
Naruto raised a brow. "I'm always nice."
Insomuch as he could be.
"Right." Cecil didn't smile. He never smiled. "Tell them we're ready."
The door hissed open with the finality of a judge's gavel.
And they walked in.
The Guardians of the Globe.
They didn't strut. They didn't need to. Their presence filled the room, a kind of quiet gravity that made the air sit heavier in Naruto's lungs. Not Viltrumite-level pressure—but close enough to be noticed. The kind of presence that said: You're not the only one with power.
Each step was measured. Each glance, deliberate. Each-
"You?!"
The voice cracked the tension like lightning through storm clouds.
Naruto blinked, not surprised to find a familiar face amongst earth greatest heroes.
War Woman stood at the forefront of the group, arm outstretched, finger trembling with a mixture of disbelief and fury. Her jaw was tight. Her stance aggressive. Her cape fluttered behind her like a flag mid-battle. She also looked completely, utterly flummoxed to see him.
'Heh. Worth it.'
He scratched the back of his head, sheepish grin sliding onto his face like it had been waiting backstage for its cue.
"Yup," he said. "Me."
Cecil quirked a brow. "You know each other...?"
"He's the one I told you about, sir." War Woman hadn't lowered her hand for one moment. "More recently, he wiped out a kidnapping ring in Detroit."
Naruto preened a little despite his best efforts to maintain a dour expression. Had he done that? Ordinarily it was so hard to remember ants he'd crushed underfoot, but he recalled that little foray all too well.
In the end, he settled for a shrug. "They shot at me first."
"Only because you flew through their roof!"
"It was a shortcut."
She flung up her arms. "You killed them with a door!"
Right, right, he remembered that. That had been a bit of inspired brutality.
"Wasn't using it anymore." he retorted. 'Sides, they had hostages. Bad guys died, good guys lived. No civilians got hurt."
Darkwing grunted his approval. "I like him."
War Woman rounded on him. "Of course you would-
Cecil raised his hands. "Okay, okay, enough. He's green, but he's effective. I think he's a good fit."
Naruto crossed both arms before his jacket and stood his ground.
While he was vaguely aware of each of their identities thanks to the reports, none of them -save War Woman- seemed overly eager to introduce themselves to him just yet. And why should they? He was an unknown to them -green, in Cecil's words.
How little they knew.
War Woman snorted. "A good fit for what? Punching everything until it dies?"
Naruto huffed. "You'd be surprised how well that works."
Immortal finally stepped forward, surprising him. "Let's give the kid a chance. We all had to start somewhere. I say we put it to a vote."
Wait, what?!
When Cecil mentioned a "job" he'd assumed it was something small, a role within the GDA he could use for his own purposes. Not joining the Guardians of the Globe! Were they that naive? No, they couldn't possibly be. They had no way of knowing his true intentions. Any good deeds he did were due to his own bleeding heart, not his duty. He was here to help prepare this planet for the Viltrum empire, to find and breed with as many women as possible and in doing so, rebuild their ranks. Granted, he'd gotten something of a slow start on the latter, but only because he was busy with recon. That would soon change.
They couldn't possibly think he was suited to join their ranks. Could they...?
The room fell quiet.
Darkwing gave the nod.
Red Rush flicked him a thumbs up.
Green Ghost offered her own assent. "I look forward to working with you."
Martian Man shrugged a shoulder. "If he is as capable as you claim, there should be no problems."
Aquarius offered a wet rasp that Naruto only belatedly realized was a laugh. "Fine, let the guppy in. What's one more reservist?"
Guppy!? Naruto nearly pulped the fishman on the spot for that. It took all his strength to keep smiling.
War Woman huffed. "I see I'm outvoted, then.
"There you have it." Immortal clapped him on the back -he barely felt it- and granted him a careworn smile. "Welcome to the team."
"Yeah...thanks...
Infiltration successful...?
He hadn't planned this, though!
...these people might have to die someday. The thought churned unpleasantly in his stomach.
Plastering a smile to his face that he didn't entirely feel, he sketched the earth equivalent of a bow. "I'm honored...?"
Cecil didn't smile -the man never did- but he did grant him a nod. "Alright, then. We'll get you kitted out in a bit. But before that, you wanted a meal, didn't you?"
His stomach agreed loudly.
Naruto sputtered, the act of which drew a laugh from his faux-comrades. Even War Woman smiled a little.
"And after that," Red Rush gave him a quick once over, grinning all the while. "If he's gonna be working with us, he'll need a proper costume. Not that...cobbled together outfit."
Hey! This was all he had! Nevertheless, the baffled blond perked up, finding himself warming to the idea. "Can it be black and orange?"
War Woman rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised you didn't choose black and blue."
"What? No way." he crossed both arms before his chest. "Those colors? Together? They're cursed."
Everything was proceeding according to plan; he was literally failing upwards.
So why did he have the feeling he was forgetting something...?
(.0.0.0.)
The world was dull.
Conquest walked it anyway.
He moved like a whisper through alleyways and vacant industrial zones, each step too soft for the power behind it. A black hoodie hung loose around his frame, the hood pulled low. Tinted glasses sat awkwardly on a face far too proud to hide. The disguise was absurd—laughable, even—but no one questioned it.
That was the problem with Earth. No one questioned anything. They liked to ignore things.
He wandered the city like a ghost with nowhere better to haunt. Empty streets. Cracked sidewalks. Billboards peeling at the edges. The planet pulsed with life, yes—but it was an unimpressive life. Soft people. Squishy bones. Weapons designed more for spectacle than survival. Even their explosions felt like celebration—brief flashes, loud and hollow. Like birthday candles.
This was Earth?
He scoffed beneath his breath. The sound barely disturbed the air.
His son would have no trouble conquering these soft, senseless, squishy people.
A tremor rippled through the ground—mild, but rhythmic. A beacon, almost. Conquest turned, tracking it like a man hearing something out of place in a familiar room. Manic laughter, accompanied by screams. On a whim, he deigned to follow it to the sourfce.
And there he was.
Hovering midair above a city park, shouting at pigeons and pensioners.
Doc Seismic.
Conquest remembered the name from Nolan's reports. A small-time villain, eccentric in the most grating of ways. Short. Smug. Stupid. Armed with gauntlets he'd likely stolen from some underfunded university lab. He spoke in monologues and moved like he believed them.
"I shall bring the surface world to its knees!" the man declared, arms raised high. "Hear me, fools! Your time is over! My time is NOW!"
A trembling mountain of molten rock rose behind him, more show than substance.
Conquest smashed through it and landed behind him without so much as a sound.
Doc Seismic faltered in his shadow. "Who the hell—?"
Conquest didn't respond. He didn't need to.
He was already moving.
There was no flash. No sound. Just the sudden absence of Doc's right gauntlet, torn free with such precision the man didn't register the pain at first.
Then the left.
The old fool was left balking at the mangled bloody stumps of his wrists, but nor for long; Conquest didn't give him the time. His recently restored right arm -always helped to have a spare prosthetic handy- struck straight and true. A second pop followed the first—shoulders dislocating with a crunch, leaving what remained of his arms hanging limp. Doc howled, a shrill, childish sound, eyes wild with panic.
Killing him wouldn't even be any fun.
"Stop," he said. The word wasn't angry. Just… bored. Tired. "You're annoying me."
The wannabe villain bobbed his head up and down in a frantic nod. He couldn't even speak, such was the pain. "...urk?!"
"Good."
A flick of Conquest's hand followed.
Snap.
Doc Seismic's spindly legs folded inward like broken toys. This so-called "Doc" collapsed in a heap of labcoat and regret, whimpering through clenched teeth as he curled inward on himself. Gone were his grand speeches and self-aggrandizing ways, he was so much meat now, quivering before him, begging for mercy. He didn't even try to put up a fight.
Boring. Useless. Weak.
Conquest gazed down at him and resisted the urge to squash him like the bug he was. Was this all that the warriors of this world had to offer? How incredibly disappointing. A shadow of what he had faced across countless planets before.
He turned and walked away. No flourish. No threat. No need.
The world was dull.
But he would fix that, eventually.
And if not him, then Vanguard certainly would.
Someone yanked on his sleeve suddenly, drawing him back with a start.
Who dared...?
"Hey, pal!" a young voice grated against his ears. "You can't just go breaking people's everything like that!"
Conquest paused, mildly bemused.
Pivoting in place, he looked down in search of the one who had slowed him, only to frown when he found the responsible party.
A child? Or near enough, he supposed. She was a mere slip of a girl, clad in a deep blue shirt and black jeans. She was a brunette, her brown hair bound back in a loose ponytail, piercing blue gaze searing into him like He considered crushing her, but then thought better of it. She was the first...human on this planet who'd dared stand up to him.
Nolan didn't count. Nolan wasn't of this world. This whelp was.
For that -and Kushina's memory- he'd let her live to see another sunrise.
Bemused, he tilted his head. "And who are you, child? I prefer to know the name of those who intrigue me."
Also those he dismembered, but he was seriously considering sparing her if only because she reminded him so much of his wife.
"Name's Amanda." The waif tossed her head indignantly, then ruined it by stomping her foot. "And I'm not a child!"
And yet she acted like one.
Conquest squinted and amended his initial statement. She was a bit tall. "Adolescent, then."
The girl grit her teeth. "You tryin' to piss me off, pal?"
...Not at all."
She had spirit, but only that. Her flesh was weak. A simple backhand would break her neck.
And he was so very tired.
This bit of banter had been amusing, but she'd reminded him of Kushina. He always felt so very weary when he thought of her. Like he could just close his eyes and never open them again. But what did it matter? This tiny slip of a girl was not her. She would never be here. Any coincidental comparison made between was just that; mere happenstance.
Besides, he had no interest in children.
Tutting once, he pulled his arm from her grip and walked away.
Imagine his surprise when she immediately circled round him to block his path with outstretched arms.
Conquest paused, both bemused and befuddled.
Did this girl have a death wish?
"What's wrong with you, anyway?!" she spared a glance for the weeping, broken form of Doc Seismic. "You nearly killed that guy! Heroes don't kill!"
Hero? Him? He'd been called many things. Monster, Butcher, Husband, Father, but Hero?
Never that one.
Was that her hang up, here?
Semantics, he supposed. Few were strong as he.
That said, she has spirit. Perhaps Vanguard can mate with her when she's of age. Not now, of course...
"You listenin' to me, bub?!"
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as loomed over this mouthy mongrel. "The oaf is still breathing, isn't he?"
"Barely!" Despite the danger, this "Amanda" stared him down undaunted and even had the gall to poke him in the chest, digging a finger into the hardened muscle beneath without care for her life. "Listen here, buster! You've got two choices. Either you help me get this guy to a hospital before he bleeds out, or you're joining him on the floor!"
Now she had the courage to threaten him? He was beginning to like her.
Conquest quirked a pale brow. "Child, you have no idea-
"THAT DOES IT!"
He was still speaking when that harmless little girl abruptly became something else; he'd only just begun to frown when a massive green fist plowed into his face.
His visage held up quite nicely; his head barely budged beneath the blow.
Alas, his sunglasses weren't quite so fortunate. The opaque shades shattered like the brittle glass and plastic they were, peppering the floor at his feet. Brushing the lingering shards from his face, he found himself face to face with a towering green monster as large as he was tall. This creature looked strong. Moreover, the girl had transformed into this muscle-bound brute. Well, well, well!
There was just one problem.
His good eye swiveled to the broken shades at his feet with mournfully mounting annoyance. "I liked those sunglasses...
"Then you're gonna love this!"
With a deep roar, the green monster threw another punch.
Conquest caught it. Twisted his wrist aside, wrenched the arm down, forcing the creature to a knee. A grunt of pain was his reward. No pleas for mercy, no begging, no broken bones...yet. Perhaps the latter would come in time, but for now, indeed, for the first time in a long while without another Viltrumite around...
...he smiled.
"Finally."
Amanda decked him.
It was a good punch he mused; well thrown despite the poor footing; she nailed him in the chin and snapped his head to the side. But that was all. Slowly, almost lazily, he reached up and caught her wrist, entrapping that arm as well. Here at last, a glimmer of concern passed through the green creature's pale gaze.
Conquest reveled in that fierce flicker of fear and leaned over her, looming large.
"Child, if that's all you can muster, this is going to go very poorly for you."
He punched her into a building.
A/N: Monster Girl, no! You do NOT want that fight! RUN AWAY!
EDIT: Someone actually thought I was pairing her up with Conquest?! That's an angle I hadn't considered at all? Her sassiness simply reminds him of Kushina. Besides, she's stuck at the physical age of a kid at the moment, and THAT is a big no-no.
In regards to Naruto/Vanguard, there will still be more to the pairing; Dark and I simply don't want to pile it all on at once.
Pairing is going to be bonkers; though I will say this, my team and I remain hesitant to to take Eve from Mark. Unless that's what folks want to see...?
Do you want this to remain a story? Yes? No? Maybe so? Make yourselves heard! Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this particular story, and others. I'm working two jobs -might need a third soon!- so I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy.
So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
Aaaand there we go. As ever, reviews keep me alive. Without them, I cannot write. So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly? Previews are most the same, wouldn't do to spoil anything.
(Previews!)
Anissa tilted her head and blinked twice.
Smiled ever so softly, now.
"Interesting...
x
"Who are you supposed to be, exactly...?
The colorfully clad youth, nearly of an age with him, placed both fists on his hips and preened. "I'm-
*Insert Title Card*
-Invincible!"
Naruro immediately decked him in the schnoz, sending the younger boy tumbling backward through the air with a strangled cry of pain:
"No." He shook his head slowly. "You are not invincible. At all. No one is."
Dad wasn't.
Mom hadn't been.
No one was truly invincible.
"Dude!" Mark rasped, lisping his words," Not cool! You bwoke my dose!"
The blond lowered his bloody fist.
"You punched me first. I'll do a lot more than break your nose if you get in my way again."
"Whoa, hey! " the younger man raised both hands to ward him off. "Just calm down-
x
"I spent my entire life training from the moment I could walk! Where did you train, MARK?! ON A FARM?!"
x
...enough.
He drew himself up and stepped over the fallen fighters, regarding his attackers and the man behind the desk with keen intent.
"I don't want to hear any more speeches from you chumps." he shucked his ruined shirt, baring his chest. "Not one word. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry... hell, you're all gonna be doing that in a second. But no more words."
Lightning crackled across his skin as one struck.
His fist snapped up, backhanding the zapper clear out the building without a second glance.
Battle Beast licked his lips."Finally! A worthy opponent! Our battle will be legendary!"
Naruro felt something shift in his eyes then, blue snapping into feral red. "What did I just say?"
Machine Head swore. "Ah, shi-
Battle Beast lunged forward.
Naruto met him halfway.
All hell broke loose.
Looking forward to chatting with you all when I get back from work~!
Warm regards,
~Nz.