In the Land of Rain, on a desolate plain veiled in perpetual drizzle, two masked Konoha ANBU operatives dashed across the slick terrain. One carried a red-haired, unconscious child on his back—the unmistakable locks of the Uzumaki clan glinting under the overcast sky.
"Wood Style—Cutting Technique!"
Without warning, sharp wooden thorns erupted from the muddy ground.
The taller of the two ANBU, clearly trained in Kenjutsu, responded instantly. His blade flashed in wide arcs, slicing through the incoming assault. "Wood Style?" he muttered, incredulous. "That's supposed to be the First Hokage's bloodline technique…"
"Let go of that child," came a cold, hoarse voice.
A strange, pitcher plant-like figure emerged from the earth—its body split into a black and white duality. It was none other than Zetsu—Black Zetsu and White Zetsu merged, ancient remnants of Uchiha Madara's will and Kaguya Ōtsutsuki's malevolent design.
"Damn it," the shorter, stockier ANBU cursed as more thorns snaked up from the ground. "This guy… he's using Mokuton. But only the First Hokage and Yamato—"
"That's not Yamato," the sword-wielder cut in sharply. "He's using something else… something darker."
Black Zetsu's blackened mass split apart, revealing his dark, ink-like form. The ninja blade swung toward him—but passed through as though slicing through oil.
"Jie Jie Jie…" Zetsu chuckled. "You fools. You think a blade will stop me?"
The burly ANBU executed a series of hand signs. "Yang Release: Expansion Jutsu!"
His arm swelled grotesquely—Akamichi clan heritage unmistakable. With a thunderous roar, he smashed his enlarged fist into White Zetsu's half, sending a pulpy mass of white matter flying in all directions.
"Fire Style—Great Fireball Jutsu!"
The flame burst from his partner's mouth lit the grey sky momentarily, reducing the wooden thorns to ash—if only for a moment.
"You tricked us," the taller ANBU growled, noticing traces of blood still lingering on the unconscious boy's clothes. "You used Nagato's blood… You faked his Chakra signature."
The terrain cracked again, and a fresh wave of barbed roots erupted upward. The two Konoha shinobi leapt into the air in perfect synchronization, honed by years of teamwork.
"Keep moving!"
"Right!"
They dashed forward, knowing that the only way to escape was to disappear into the jagged mountain ranges looming ahead—beyond the reach of Rain Shinobi patrols.
But Zetsu was relentless.
"Spore Technique!" White Zetsu's voice rang out from the soil.
Mushroom-shaped growths burst onto the Akamichi's back. Faces sprouted grotesquely from his shoulder, cackling as they siphoned Chakra.
"Parasite spores!" the ANBU shouted. "Cut it off!"
Without hesitation, the burly ninja drew a kunai and hacked off the infected areas of his armor and skin, grunting through the pain.
"You know you won't get far," Black Zetsu hissed. "Leave the boy. He's not yours."
The two ANBU looked at each other—no words needed. They dropped the boy gently onto the ground. One gave a solemn nod, and together they doubled back—away from their original escape route.
"Diversion," one whispered. "Buy time."
"Understood."
Zetsu lunged forward—but too late. The swordsman's blade cleaved through White Zetsu's regenerating mass again, but the goop quickly reformed.
"We can't kill them like this," the taller one hissed. "Not without sealing techniques."
"They're not the main target," the other said grimly, eyes scanning the terrain.
Black Zetsu turned, only to see the boy's body vanish in a poof of smoke. "A Shadow Clone?!"
His eyes widened in rage.
"You bastards…"
The real child was gone—teleported elsewhere. The two ANBU had passed him off using the Clone Relay technique, a tactic perfected by the elite of the Leaf during wartime.
Black Zetsu's fury was palpable. His liquid-like mass stretched upward, merging into a jagged pillar of thorns. "You think you've won?"
He clenched his fist.
The ground shuddered again, a final attack launched in vain.
But the two Leaf Shinobi were already gone, vanished into the misty distance. Their masks—the stylized weasel and ox of the ANBU—were the last things to fade.
Back at the origin point, White Zetsu regenerated from his splattered remains. "You lost the kid," he said smugly.
"Shut up," Black Zetsu muttered, darkly contemplative. "They were ANBU… and one had Akamichi blood. Konoha sent more than just spies."
From the tree roots still twitching with life, he reclaimed a drop of blood. "But he bled. And that's all I need."
Overhead, the rain fell steadily. Somewhere in the mountains, Konoha's future slipped further from his grasp.
And the revolution in the shadows deepened.
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