Dark clouds loomed over the distant mountains, mirroring the unease settling in the Hidden Leaf. The village carried on as usual, but those who had lived through war could feel the shift in the air. Something was coming.
---
Within the Hokage's office, a quiet tension filled the room. Hiruzen Sarutobi studied the reports scattered across his desk while his three most trusted students stood before him. Orochimaru leaned against the wall, his piercing gaze unreadable. Tsunade crossed her arms, impatience written all over her face. The last of their trio, Jiraiya, however, was missing.
A moment later, the door slid open, and he stepped in, shaking off the lingering raindrops from his cloak. "Sorry, I ran into an old friend," Jiraiya said casually.
Tsunade scoffed. "You always run into someone."
Hiruzen cleared his throat. "Enough. We have more pressing matters." His eyes darkened as he passed them the latest reports. "Disappearing patrols, strange chakra signatures… it's not just happening at the borders. Even within our own land, something is stirring."
Orochimaru scanned the documents with a sharp eye. "The descriptions don't match any known jutsu."
"Exactly," Hiruzen said. "That's why we must be prepared. I'm assigning each of you a task."
Tsunade straightened. "What do you need?"
"I want you to assess our medical forces. If an attack comes, we need our support units ready."
She nodded, already calculating what needed to be done.
Orochimaru smirked. "And me?"
"You will assist in intelligence gathering," Hiruzen replied. "If anyone can uncover hidden threats, it's you."
His grin widened. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Sensei."
Finally, the Hokage turned to Jiraiya. "And you… you'll go beyond the borders."
A slow smile spread across Jiraiya's face. "Sounds like my kind of job."
---
The journey beyond Fire Country's borders was uneventful at first. Dense forests gave way to rocky terrain, the air growing colder with each step. Jiraiya moved swiftly, senses alert for any sign of movement. If someone was operating in the shadows, he intended to find them first.
Several miles out, he caught something—a faint presence, lingering just outside his field of vision. A trap?
Pretending not to notice, he adjusted his pace, leading them further from the main road. Then, in a blur of motion, he disappeared.
His pursuer barely had time to react before a firm grip seized their wrist, twisting them into a hold. "Following me isn't exactly polite," Jiraiya said.
The masked figure struggled before realizing resistance was pointless. "You're faster than I expected."
Releasing them, he took a step back, arms crossed. "Now, why don't you tell me who you are and why you're tailing me?"
The figure hesitated before pulling down their mask, revealing a familiar face. "I wasn't following you—I was making sure you weren't followed."
A chuckle escaped Jiraiya. "Well, that explains why you were so bad at it."
"Very funny." The woman—an old ally from past missions—gave him a pointed look. "You're walking into something bigger than you realize."
His expression sobered. "Then fill me in."
---
The information she provided painted a grim picture. Disappearances weren't random. Entire squads had vanished without a trace, and those who returned spoke of shadows that moved like living creatures, slipping through the cracks of reality itself.
"That's impossible," Jiraiya muttered.
"I thought so too," she admitted. "Until I saw it myself."
A chill ran down his spine. If what she described was true, then something far worse than enemy shinobi was at play.
---
Night had fallen by the time Jiraiya reached the outskirts of an abandoned village. The silence was unnatural—no wind, no insects, nothing but an oppressive stillness.
Stepping cautiously through the ruined streets, he spotted signs of a struggle—shattered kunai, dried blood, a half-burned scroll. Whatever had happened here, it had been violent and swift.
Then he felt it.
The air shifted, heavy with an unseen force. His muscles tensed, instincts screaming a warning just as a shadow lunged from the darkness. Spinning on his heel, he barely evaded the strike, countering with a blast of chakra-infused force.
The figure skidded back, revealing itself under the moonlight. Clad in unfamiliar armor, its features were obscured by a mask that seemed to twist and shift like liquid.
No words were exchanged. The enemy attacked again, and Jiraiya met them head-on. Blades clashed, sparks flying. Each strike was precise, deadly, but something was off. His opponent moved with an unnatural fluidity, almost as if they weren't bound by physical limitations.
Realization struck Jiraiya mid-battle. This isn't a person. It's something else.
Gathering chakra, he shifted into a new stance. "Let's see how you handle this."
---
By the time the fight ended, the village was in ruins. His opponent had disappeared, but not before leaving behind a chilling message:
This is only the beginning.
As he stood amidst the wreckage, one thing became clear—this was no ordinary threat. And if Konoha wasn't ready, they would all pay the price.
With renewed determination, Jiraiya turned back toward the village. There was work to be done.