The Land of Sound.
A country bordering the Land of Fire, yet one without a ninja village. Despite its proximity to the tumultuous Land of Fire, its geographical position had spared it from involvement in the Third Ninja World War. Amid the widespread chaos, this small nation enjoyed an unusual peace.
Deep in the forested mountains of the Land of Sound lay a concealed cave. From the outside, it appeared utterly ordinary, with no distinguishing features to catch the eye. Yet, within its shadowy depths, the scene was anything but mundane.
The interior of the cave was a trove of equipment and instruments, their precise arrangement a testament to their owner's meticulous nature. Tools, wires, and components of all kinds were scattered about, while runic prohibitions lined the cave walls. These protective seals effectively masked the cave's activities from any prying eyes or ears beyond its rocky confines.
At the heart of the cavern, a slender red-haired figure was hunched over a workbench. He worked tirelessly, his deft fingers manipulating puppet parts with precision. Suddenly, the faintest vibration traveled through a thin wire strung across the cave, causing a small bell to chime softly.
The figure turned abruptly, revealing a strikingly handsome face. His crimson eyebrows furrowed in suspicion, and his intense gaze betrayed an alertness that was second nature to him.
"Someone's here," Sasori muttered under his breath.
This was the deep forest of the Land of Sound, a place teeming with dangerous beasts that kept ordinary people far away. The only individuals capable of reaching this hidden haven were skilled ninjas.
Sasori, a notorious S-rank criminal and wanted by the Village Hidden in the Sand, knew he couldn't afford carelessness. He set aside the puppet limb he had been working on, donned a dark, flowing robe, and quickly moved toward the cave's entrance.
Positioning himself high within the dense canopy of trees, Sasori concealed his presence. Moments later, an unfamiliar figure stumbled into view. The man was clad in the distinctive attire of an Iwagakure ninja, though his movements were labored and unsteady.
"What is an Iwagakure shinobi doing here?" Sasori's narrowed eyes gleamed with curiosity and suspicion.
Observing from his perch, Sasori noticed the subtle signs of poisoning—the awkward gait, the slight tremors in the man's limbs, and the sheen of sweat on his face. The ninja had clearly triggered one of the traps laced with Sasori's specialized toxin.
Sure enough, the man's movements slowed further until his legs buckled, and he collapsed against a tree. His lifeless body slumped to the forest floor, and as he fell, a scroll slipped from his grasp.
In a blur of motion, Sasori appeared beside the fallen ninja. His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the scroll.
"A battle report?" Sasori mused, picking it up. The intricate seals on the scroll intended to safeguard its contents posed no challenge to someone of his skill.
Unfurling the scroll, Sasori scanned its contents. As his eyes darted across the parchment, his normally impassive face contorted with disbelief.
"This... can't be true," he murmured, gripping the scroll tightly.
The words on the page detailed a shocking turn of events.
"Minato Namikaze, the Yellow Flash of Konoha, defeated Hanzo the Salamander, the legendary demigod of the Rain Village."
Sasori's hands trembled slightly as he read on. Half a month ago, the combined forces of the Sand Village, Rain Village, and Stone Village had launched a massive assault on the Land of Fire, with thousands of ninja participating in the battle. Yet, Konoha had dealt them a devastating blow.
Minato Namikaze had single-handedly faced Hanzo, the Fourth Kazekage Rasa, and the Four-Tails Jinchuriki Roshi. Against all odds, Konoha's forces, despite being outnumbered, had forced the alliance of three nations to retreat.
Sasori's mind raced. How could one man accomplish such a feat? He had crossed paths with Minato before and had firsthand knowledge of the man's extraordinary abilities. But to defeat Hanzo, a man regarded as a pinnacle of the ninja world? And to turn back an entire coalition?
"Impossible," Sasori whispered, shaking his head. Yet the battle report left no room for doubt.
This revelation sent ripples through his thoughts. The Rain Village, which had maintained its neutrality, was now embroiled in the war. The fragile alliances between major nations were shifting rapidly, and Minato Namikaze's name seemed to instill both fear and respect across the shinobi world.
Sasori quickly buried the body of the Iwagakure ninja, disposing of any evidence that could betray his location. Packing his belongings hastily, he prepared to leave the forest.
Unbeknownst to Sasori, however, the lifeless corpse he had buried began to transform. The Iwagakure ninja's form dissolved, revealing a pure white, plant-like body beneath. Moments later, the ground wriggled unnaturally, and a figure emerged, dragging the "corpse" into the shadows.
The figure was White Zetsu. With a sly grin, he carried out his task, eventually returning to an underground lair where an elderly man sat waiting.
Madara Uchiha, his hair stark white yet his eyes burning with ambition, glanced at White Zetsu.
"Did everything go as planned?" Madara inquired, his voice calm but commanding.
White Zetsu nodded enthusiastically. "It was even easier than expected. Sasori fell for the bait completely. After reading the battle report, he didn't even question the authenticity of my clone."
Madara smirked, his lips curling with satisfaction. "As I thought. The mention of Minato Namikaze alone was enough to shatter his composure."
White Zetsu continued, "He's already left the forest. Judging by his reaction, he'll waste no time seeking more information about the war."
Madara's eyes glimmered with a mix of amusement and calculation. "Good. Let him dig deeper. The more he learns about Konoha's might and Minato's reputation, the more his hatred will grow. He will move against them, and in doing so, serve our purposes."
White Zetsu tilted his head curiously. "But Sasori's enemy is Minato Namikaze. Even if he joins the war, won't he focus on the Land of Rain rather than Uchiha Yoruki?"
Madara chuckled, his weathered face betraying no concern. "Sasori's movements are inconsequential. What matters is the spread of chaos. With every piece we move, the great nations edge closer to their downfall."
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