With that the war began.
The battlefield stretched across a shattered continent—vast plains cracked by ancient craters, forests reduced to blackened stumps, rivers choked with debris and bodies.
Smoke rose in thick pillars from burning camps; the sky churned with dark, bruise-colored clouds that never seemed to break.
Kabuto's Edo Tensei had turned the dead into weapons. Well-renowned ninja Naruto once fought rose again—Zabuza Momochi with his massive Executioner's Blade, mist swirling around him like a shroud; Haku with his ice mirrors glinting coldly in the gloom; countless others, dead Akatsuki members with hollow eyes and unbreakable bodies. They fought without fear, without pain, without mercy—perfect puppets of war.
All while this was happening, Naruto stood on one of the Turtle Island's massive white spikes—high above the crashing sea, wind whipping his jacket and hair.
The turtle's slow, ancient breathing lifted and lowered the ground beneath his feet like a living heartbeat. Dark clouds boiled overhead, lightning flickering in the distance; waves slammed against the shell far below, sending up sprays of white foam that glittered in the storm light.
'I don't think I can wait any longer,' he thought, fists clenching at his sides.
He had already explored the whole Turtle Island—every rocky path, every steaming hot spring, every hidden training ground carved into the shell.
He'd met all the animals: the giant octopus Inkling who guarded the waters, schools of talking dolphins that followed B's raps, even the ancient sea turtles that carried messages between islands.
He rekindled the old friendship between B and Motoi—watched them sit on a cliff at sunset, B rapping softly while Motoi finally smiled without tension.
He sensed Kisame's chakra deep inside Samehada—the sword that had taken a liking to B, coiled and restless—but decided not to interfere.
And lastly—he and B re-enacted the best rap cypher ever produced.
"Rolly on my wrist—"
"WHAT—"
It was fun while it lasted—pure joy, but now the war had started. Naruto wanted a fight. The last real fight he'd had was with Danzō. And he didn't even break a sweat against him. In fact, he lowkey already forgot he killed Danzō.
Since right after that he got some cheeks. Or was it before? He didn't remember.
Well, moving on.
Naruto began to sense something heading toward them—multiple chakra signatures, powerful, fast, closing from the southwest.
Below, he also sensed a commotion—Kisame finally breaking free, Samehada's chakra surging like a tidal wave, Motoi's panicked shouts, B's excited laughter.
'Guess Kisame finally got out.'
He shrugged—then focused on the signatures coming toward him.
They were still far—dots on the horizon—but in his enhanced perception they moved slowly, almost leisurely. Naruto cracked his knuckles once—slow, deliberate.
A feral grin spread across his face.
'Finally.'
The wind picked up—sharp, cold—tugging at his jacket. Trouble had arrived. And Naruto was ready.
It was a white bird—massive wings beating powerfully against the dark clouds, feathers gleaming pale in the stormy light.
Two figures rode its back: Deidara crouched low near the neck, long blonde hair whipping wildly, mouth curled in a manic grin; Kabuto sat behind him—calm, glasses glinting, arms crossed, observing everything with clinical detachment.
Naruto also sensed three more people flying toward them—faint but unmistakable chakra signatures closing fast from the northeast.
'Ōnoki and his group. Sorry, but I gotta take this,' he thought, lips curving into a small, dangerous smile.
Deidara and Kabuto saw Naruto standing tall on the turtle's spike—silhouette stark against the churning sky—and Deidara's grin widened to show teeth.
"Well… I guess I won't have to pull him out," Kabuto said, voice smooth and amused.
Deidara didn't waste a moment. His hands flashed—mouths in his palms chewing clay furiously, molding it into small, bird-shaped bombs.
The white bird beneath them banked sharply, passing directly over Naruto as dozens of clay birds—white, insect-like—were dropped in a cascading swarm.
Naruto didn't even take a breath.
He raised one hand, chakra surging outward in a thin, shimmering dome. Wind chakra hardened into an invisible shield around him—air compressing tight, edges razor-sharp.
The explosives erupted—*B-BOOOM*—a chain of blinding white flashes and deafening concussions that swallowed him in smoke and fire.
The blast wave rolled outward—hot wind roaring, shockwaves cracking the turtle's shell in hairline fractures far below.
Smoke billowed thick—black and acrid—hiding him completely.
"That's not enough to kill him," Kabuto said calmly, already analyzing.
Suddenly above them "You're right."
The voice came from nowhere—calm, almost bored.
Deidara and Kabuto barely had time to register it before Naruto struck.
He appeared mid-air— his form flickering—leg whipping forward in a brutal axe kick. The impact landed square on Deidara's chest—*BAMM*—force so sharp the air cracked like thunder.
The white bird screeched—wings folding as both riders were hurled downward in a tumbling freefall.
They twisted mid-air—Kabuto forming seals, Deidara cursing—before managing to grip the turtle's shell with chakra adhesion.
They landed lightly—boots sliding across the rough, white-spiked surface, cracking a few smaller protrusions under the force.
Naruto stood atop the bird now—casual, hands in pockets. The bird beneath him flapped once—confused—then steadied under his weight.
Deidara snarled—eyes wild—hands already moving.
With a sharp signal of his hand—*BOOOOM*—a massive explosion erupted beneath Naruto's feet.
Clay bird detonated in a perfect ring—white-hot fire blooming outward, shockwave shattering nearby spikes, heat so intense the air shimmered and cracked.
Deidara laughed—loud, triumphant—hair whipping in the blast wind.
"That explosion is powerful enough to level a small village! That definitely did the job!"
Kabuto stood behind him—calm, analytical—staring into the thick smoke cloud that now swallowed the bird and Naruto.
The next second—he felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder.
He turned.
A fist landed on his cheek—*POW!*—clean, precise, with the force of a battering ram.
Kabuto's head snapped sideways—glasses cracking—body launched off his feet like a ragdoll. He flew backward—crashing into one of the turtle's massive white spikes with bone-jarring impact. The spike shattered—*CRUNCH*—chunks tumbling down the shell in a loud, rolling rumble that echoed across the island.
Deidara spun—eyes wide—only to find Naruto standing there—yawning, one hand scratching the back of his head.
"Man… this is boring," Naruto said, voice casual, almost disappointed. "Got anything else interesting, Deidara?"
Naruto's wind shield having absorbed every ounce of the blast without a scratch.
Deidara stared—grin frozen—then slowly morphed into something feral.
" I'll show you my art! Because art is an exp–"
" Shut up. That's getting old man" Naruto quickly got in his mouth. Naruto cracked his neck once.
Deidara stood in silence, then brushed his remark off" Ok then. Get ready!' He shouted.
TO BE CONTINUED