The shadows clung to the nameless teen like a second skin, wrapping him in an invisible shroud of secrecy as he moved through the village's streets. His every footfall was absorbed by the quiet night, leaving no trace of his passing. This was how he had been trained—the art of disappearing, of becoming one with the darkened corners of the world, a ghost among the living.
But tonight, something felt different. The Code Phantom had changed everything.
His mission—his purpose—had always been clear, but the weight of that clarity had now shifted. His memories were still broken fragments, but they were beginning to make sense. The forgotten protocols had been a warning, a key to unlocking the truth of why he had been erased from the timeline. The nameless teen didn't know who had written those protocols or why they had been buried so deep within his subconscious, but one thing was certain: they weren't going to let him rest until they had all been completed.
His destination loomed ahead: a small, nondescript building tucked away at the edge of Konoha's bustling heart. It wasn't much to look at, a simple structure hidden in plain sight, but it housed the one person who might have the answers he sought—the man who held the key to everything.
Danzo Shimura.
The thought of the man made the nameless teen's stomach twist with unease. Danzo was a figure of power and manipulation, a shadow in his own right, and the one person who had the resources to erase someone like him from history. But why? Why had he done it? Why had the system marked him as a threat?
Questions upon questions, with no answers in sight.
He slowed his pace as he approached the building, his body tense, every muscle coiled like a spring. There was something inside him urging him forward, a drive to confront Danzo, to finally understand the truth behind his erasure. But he couldn't rush this. His mission wasn't just about finding answers; it was about survival. The protocols, the system—they demanded precision, patience. He had to wait for the right moment.
He pressed his back against the wall, his breathing steady and controlled. From here, he could see the guards stationed at the entrance. Ordinary shinobi, at least on the surface. But to him, they were just obstacles—barriers that had to be overcome to reach Danzo. He had no time for distractions. His mission was all that mattered now.
The nameless teen raised his hand to his face, his fingers brushing lightly over his features as he considered what was about to happen. He had been given a mask—a literal and figurative tool that would allow him to carry out his mission without hesitation. The mask was more than just a physical disguise; it was a symbol of the life he had lost, a representation of the persona he was now forced to wear.
He had no name. No past. No identity.
The mask was everything.
He slid his hand over the sleek surface of the mask, feeling its coldness against his skin. It was a perfect fit, designed to conceal not just his features but the very essence of who he had once been. His eyes, once filled with the clarity of purpose, now held a cold emptiness, a vacancy that was hard to ignore. The mask would shield that emptiness from the world, allowing him to blend in as just another shadow.
The Code Phantom had chosen him for a reason. He was the vessel for these forgotten protocols, and he would see them completed. He would uncover the truth, no matter the cost.
A voice broke through his thoughts.
"You're late."
The nameless teen's head snapped up, his body reacting instinctively as his hand hovered over the hilt of his kunai. He knew that voice. It was low and calculating, carrying a weight of authority that made the air around him feel colder.
Standing at the entrance of the building was none other than Danzo Shimura himself. The older man's presence was commanding, almost oppressive, as if his very existence was a challenge to anyone who dared to oppose him.
The nameless teen's breath caught in his throat. There was no mistake. This was Danzo—his target, the man who had erased him from the timeline, the man who had been manipulating events from the shadows. And now, he was standing directly in front of him.
Danzo's single visible eye glowed with a strange, almost predatory gleam as he stared at the nameless teen, his lips curling into a smirk. "You've been following me for days now, haven't you? But I must say, I expected a bit more... finesse."
The nameless teen remained silent, his body poised to act, but something deep within him hesitated. He was no stranger to assassination, no stranger to striking when the time was right. But this felt different. Danzo wasn't just an obstacle. He was the catalyst, the very reason the nameless teen had been thrust into this strange, fractured world.
"Come out of the shadows," Danzo continued, his voice still laced with that unnerving calm. "Let's see what kind of phantom you really are."
For a brief moment, the nameless teen considered vanishing into the darkness, leaving Danzo to wonder about his existence. But then, he remembered the protocols—the Code Phantom that had activated inside his mind. This wasn't about hiding anymore. This wasn't about being a shadow in the night.
This was about confronting the truth.
Slowly, deliberately, the nameless teen stepped out from the shadows. He could feel the weight of Danzo's gaze upon him, cold and calculating. It was as if the older man was sizing him up, testing him, trying to determine just how much of a threat he truly was.
The nameless teen didn't flinch. He wasn't here to make a statement. He wasn't here to challenge Danzo in some dramatic confrontation. He was here for answers. The mask he wore—both physical and metaphorical—was his shield. And it was time to put it to the test.
"I know what you've done," the nameless teen finally spoke, his voice low and controlled. "I know about the Code Phantom."
Danzo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "So you do remember, then?"
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The nameless teen's heart quickened as the realization hit him: Danzo knew more about his past than he had let on. The Code Phantom wasn't just a system; it was a part of the larger game Danzo had been orchestrating. The older man had been watching him for far longer than he had realized.
"You were never meant to wake up," Danzo said, his tone shifting, becoming more personal. "But now that you have, I can't let you walk away."
The nameless teen's fists clenched, the familiar sensation of anger bubbling to the surface. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for.
"Why?" he asked, his voice edged with frustration. "Why me? Why erase me from the timeline?"
Danzo's smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Because you were an error, a loose thread. And now, I intend to tie it up."
The words struck like a blow to the chest, and the nameless teen felt his blood run cold. He had always known that his existence was something more than just a mission—it was a mistake, a deviation from the natural order. But hearing Danzo say it out loud, with such conviction, made it feel all too real.
The Code Phantom had been created for a reason. But now, the question was: could he escape it?
Could he truly become something more than the shadow he had been?
With a sudden surge of determination, the nameless teen's hand shot out, grabbing Danzo by the collar, lifting him off the ground. His eyes burned with a fierce resolve as he stared into the older man's single eye. "Then I will rewrite the rules."
Danzo's expression didn't change. He merely chuckled.
"Good luck," he said softly. "You're going to need it."