The sun had yet to rise. The horizon was still painted in deep indigo, the faintest traces of morning light buried beneath a cold mist. In the heart of Konoha's main frontline outpost, all was quiet—except for one gathering of elite shinobi already prepared to depart.
Minato Namikaze stood at the center, his golden hair softly shifting with the wind. His eyes, calm and focused, scanned the small squad before him—six elite ANBU operatives, each handpicked for this critical mission.
Though it was still the earliest hours of the day, the tension in the air was palpable. No words were spoken. There was no need. Their minds were honed. Their purpose was clear.
The plan had been finalized. Supplies had been checked and rechecked. All preparations were complete. Without hesitation, the seven shinobi vanished into the darkness of the forest—leaping silently from branch to branch, their chakra suppressed, their movements swift and precise.
The dense forest provided excellent cover for most of the journey. Occasional clearings—wide fields or shallow rivers—forced them to adapt, slowing down or hugging the terrain, but for a team of elite shinobi, these obstacles were nothing more than minor delays.
By the time the first hints of dawn began to glow at the edge of the sky, the squad had already crossed the outer combat zones. Konoha's battlefront was behind them now—they had entered Iwagakure-controlled territory.
This was enemy soil.
Minato signaled with a quick hand gesture, and the group immediately reduced their speed. Stealth now took priority over speed. The deeper they went, the more dangerous each step became. One wrong move, and their entire mission could collapse before it even began.
Using all their training, the group avoided detection, slipping past Iwa patrol squads with practiced ease. They hugged the treetops, circled around traps, and listened for even the slightest whisper of enemy chakra.
Eventually, they came to a stop on a thick tree branch that overlooked a shadowy clearing ahead. From their perch, they could see parts of the enemy outpost—just faint glimpses of tents, movement, and flickering campfires.
The leader of the ANBU team crouched beside Minato, his masked face emotionless but his voice calm.
"We've received an update from Orochimaru-sama," he whispered. "He's launched a major offensive to draw enemy forces to the western combat zone. Most of Iwa's troops are now committed there. This outpost won't be receiving reinforcements—at least not quickly."
The team nodded quietly. It was good news.
But Minato remained cautious.
"Do we have a contingency if things go wrong?" he asked, his voice low but firm.
The ANBU leader answered without hesitation. "There are still troops stationed here—especially if this outpost really holds the commanders. The only risk is that we've underestimated their numbers. We didn't have enough time for deep reconnaissance."
Minato narrowed his eyes. "Then let's hope our plan doesn't rely on luck."
He stepped forward, glancing down at the faint lights of the enemy camp below.
The team leader continued, laying out the final phase of the plan.
"We'll use Transformation Jutsu to infiltrate. Since the outpost is built into the forest, terrain works in our favor. We'll approach from the rear—less guarded. Once inside, we blend in as standard Iwa ninja. Our goal is the largest command tent—likely housing the key targets."
He gestured to his pouch. "Each of us will place explosive tags in hidden locations as we move. Once we eliminate the primary targets inside the tent, we detonate the explosives to create chaos. Use the confusion to finish off any surviving target and then immediately retreat."
"Understood," Minato said. "No unnecessary risks. Execute swiftly and cleanly."
No objections followed.
The ANBU leader raised his hand.
"Three… two… one… Go!"
With silent precision, the Konoha shinobi launched forward. One by one, they descended from the trees, disappearing into the shadows like phantoms.
The transformation was seamless. Within seconds, each of them had assumed the form of typical Iwa shinobi—uniforms, headbands, even speech patterns memorized to perfection. Their approach from the rear was smooth. The back perimeter, as expected, had lighter security.
They slipped inside undetected.
Within the enemy camp, torchlight flickered gently along rows of tents and supply crates. The disguised Konoha shinobi scattered, each performing their assigned role with cold efficiency. Tags were placed beneath crates, inside tents, and beneath cooking stations—anywhere a blast would cause maximum confusion.
With the setup complete, they regrouped in formation and made their way toward the large central tent. Passing Iwa soldiers gave them quick glances, but none questioned their presence. To the enemy, they were just more exhausted reinforcements returning from the field.
Everything was going according to plan—
Until it wasn't.
Just a few meters from the command tent, a shadow dropped down from the canopy ahead.
An Iwa ANBU.
He landed silently, directly in their path, his eyes narrowed beneath his wolf-shaped mask. His chakra flared ever so slightly—enough to mark his suspicion.
"I was under the impression all field squads were deployed to the frontlines," the Iwa ANBU said coldly. "Only the camp defenders remained behind. What are you doing here?"
Minato, still disguised, didn't hesitate.
"We have urgent information to report to command," he replied with perfect Iwa dialect.
The ANBU tilted his head, unconvinced.
"Which unit are you from?"
The squad froze.
A heavy silence fell between them.
The seven Konoha shinobi glanced subtly at one another—each waiting, each calculating.
There had been no time to memorize fake squad designations. They hadn't expected this level of scrutiny. And now, with one question, their entire cover teetered on the edge of exposure.
Minato's mind raced.
Will our cover be blown… this easily?