"Hoshi… No… Arthur," Jada corrected herself. "Is that what Dr. Kapoor told you before you entered the pod?"
Hoshikaze didn't even flinch; he simply nodded.
The gesture was small, but the implication was massive. It recontextualized everything, and it explained why Arthur—the supposed tyrant, the butcher of the ninja world—had moved through the shadows like a ghost.
It explained the faked death, the clones, and most importantly, it explained the mercy he showed.
Jada's mind raced back through the battles she had heard.
John had once decimated Margaret, having had the power to incinerate her where she lay. Yet, Margaret lived. Kaito had crossed paths with Alice, and he could have taken her head. But he didn't. Hoshikaze had stood over William, having the man dead to rights. Yet William is still breathing to this day.
Then there was their own fight some time ago. Jada had lost; her chakra was near zero, and she was defenseless. Arthur could have ended her. Instead, he spared her at that moment, allowing her to summon help.
If his goal was death, she would have been a corpse cooling in the mud.
"You never wanted to kill us," she whispered.
Explosions continued to boom in the distance, sending tremours through the soles of her feet. The air smelled horrid. Even if she knew that her real body lay elsewhere, this world always felt real. From the mornings that she arose from bed to the heat of the sun—everything was absolute.
If Elysium lied, if this sensation of reality was a trap designed to hold them until their actual bodies withered, then Arthur wasn't the villain. No. He was the only one playing the game correctly.
That also meant that her rage and hatred for him was false. Worst of all, it meant that she was a pawn defending the prison.
She couldn't accept it. To accept it meant that every struggle, every victory, every bond she had forged here was poison.
"I…" Her voice shook. She clenched her fists until the knuckles turned white. "Arthur… I want to trust you. I want to believe that there's a reason for your actions. But I can't. Not after all you—"
Clink.
The sound cut through her sentence. She looked down and saw that lying by the toe of her boot was the handle of the Totsuka Blade.
She stared at it. A moment ago, the connection had been severed. Now, it sat there, waiting. So she looked up at him as he watched her.
Hoshikaze saw the conflict in her posture and the denial in her eyes. He knew Jada. He had traveled with her, trained her, and saved her on more than one occasion. He also knew that she loved this world, that feeling of having power and being a hero that could change everything. Perhaps she loved it even more than William did.
"Take it," he said. Jada, however, didn't move. "If you're angry, take it and strike me down."
"What?" the word breathlessly slipped out.
Hoshikaze himself flicked his wrist, causing a poof cloud to spill out a heavy broadsword that slammed into the ground: The Executioner's Blade.
It looked different than the one she remembered him having. This one was more refined and sharper.
He had summoned his weapon, but he didn't pick it up. He just left it there as it lay in the mud between them.
"Truly look back at your ventures with me," he said. His voice sounded like the man she knew. "Not once had I lied to you. Neither did I say anything that would lead you astray. You came to me first for a purpose, and that purpose was to learn how to live."
It's then that he took a step back and spread his arms.
"But if you can't bear the sight of me for having done what I did, then rid yourself of this 'Hoshikaze' you believed in."
Those words hit her harder than any physical blow. It was because he was telling her to kill the memory.
He knew that as long as she held onto the image of the wandering fighter who saved her, she would hesitate. She would be weak. And in this world, weakness meant death. So he was forcing her to choose: the lie or the truth.
Jada didn't want to make that choice. But deep down, she knew that he was right. Even now, standing revealed as the architect of this nightmare, he knew her better than she knew herself.
This was manipulation, yes, but an obvious one that made her choose between life and death.
A moment passed before she said anything. Then she finally looked at the hilt.
"Before I do," she said, bending down and picking the gourd up. "I need to get this out… Arthur, I may not fully trust you. I can't even tell if you're really a Christian or not. Back then, I actually had feelings for you."
Her subtle confession was absurd to say here, on a battlefield to a clone. But it was the truth.
"Feelings that I didn't know myself," she continued. "Seeing that face… seeing you… it makes me angry. It makes me furious to know that a person I cared for was you the whole time."
Hoshikaze remained quiet. It was obvious he had known. That's why he played the role perfectly and let her get close. So he didn't mock her. He didn't even smile. He simply stood there with his arms still spread.
Jada tightened her grip as her chakra surged. From the gourd, liquid fire erupted, and the ethereal blade formed.
Then she looked at him. The fury she felt about the betrayal still lingered since he made her care for a ghost that was never truly there to begin with.
No more words were needed.
She kicked off the ground and sprinted forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. He didn't move, he didn't dodge—he watched her approach. Right then and there, she thrust the blade forward, and it cut through his flesh, sinking straight into his heart.
Her hand trembled on the hilt as she stared at his chest. A single tear broke free from her eye and tracked through the dirt on her cheek.
"Hey," she heard his soft voice say. When she looked up in surprise, she saw that Hoshikaze was smiling. It wasn't the blank smile of a clone or the arrogant smirk of a villain. It was a teacher's smile, a proud one. "I thought I taught you better than that."
The sealing mechanisms activated as the blade flared. Then a powerful suction force distorted his body. He didn't fight it. Rather, he let the energy pull him apart as he turned into a stream of spirit and chakra that flowed into the gourd.
In seconds, he was gone.
The Totsuka Blade vanished. Its job was done.
Jada stood alone in the clearing. The silence was almost suffocating. She looked behind her. Lying in the mud were only two items: the Executioner's Blade and the black blindfold.
She stared at them. Her heart felt like it had been squeezed by a giant hand.
Hoshikaze was just a clone, a resource. He had said it himself. Yet, the real Arthur, wherever he was, had been willing to sacrifice this asset just to prove a point. He had thrown away a queen on the chessboard to teach a pawn a lesson.
Why go to such lengths? To make her understand, of course. He needed her to see that Elysium was the enemy. But to do that, he had to soften that hardened heart of hers.
Jada walked to the items and picked up the blindfold. The fabric was wet as she clenched it in her fist. Then she looked at the massive sword for a long while.
She didn't know what to do.
The truth he had given her felt more like a burden than a gift. If she believed him, she had to fight the world she loved. If she didn't, she had just killed the only person who was trying to save them.
Her legs gave out as she dropped to her knees again. The mud soaked her dress, and she let the items fall from her hands. Then she looked up at the sky. The blue was so bright, so perfect. It almost looked fake now, like someone had painted a ceiling.
Is this what Arthur always saw, she wondered?
She didn't know what was real. She didn't know what she believed.
✟
The war had fractured into a series of desperate islands in a sea of violence.
Ashina, Kaiyo, and Shigeru stood on the ground. Their backs pressed against one another, forming a tight triangle of defense. Around them, the White Zetsu clones chattered like pale insects. There were too many to count.
"Hold the line," Shigeru grunted. He wiped sweat from his brow, smearing dirt across his forehead.
Above them, Konan hovered. Her paper wings beat slowly as she watched them with detached interest, waiting for a gap in their defense.
Every time Ashina moved to weave a sign, a paper spear would thump into the ground inches from his feet, forcing him back. They were trapped.
Miles away, the earth was still hot from Arthur's bombardment.
Itachi Uchiha stood amidst the steam. His cloak was singed, but his body was whole. The skeletal ribs of his Susanoo faded into the air around him. It had been a close call. Without it, he would be ash.
However, he didn't have time to rest. Kimimaro burst through the smoke and moved toward Itachi's location with a sword pulled from his own clavicle.
Itachi exhaled a stream of flame. The fireballs roared toward the charging man as Kimimaro danced through the gaps in the fire. When he closed the distance, he thrust the bone blade.
Itachi's Sharingan reactivated, and he stepped inside the guard. Then his hand shot out and gripped Kimimaro by the throat. The momentum stopped instantly. Kimimaro gagged as he was pinned to the floor by the Uchiha prodigy.
Further east, the air crackled with lights.
Beams of concentrated chakra shot from Shisui's gaze. It tore through the air, aiming for the Asura Path. The mechanical head of the Path split open, and a blue beam fired to meet Shisui's attack.
The two energies collided, causing a sphere of plasma that vaporized the rock and soil beneath it.
The force was enough to throw Shisui backward. He tumbled through the air, unable to right himself until a hand grabbed his vest. Raizumi hauled him to a stop by digging her heels into the ground to kill their momentum.
"You okay, Shisui?" she asked, scanning the smoke.
"Yeah," he said. She then helped him stand off and dust off the attack. "Thanks for the help."
Nearby, a squad of Uchiha unleashed more chaos.
"Fire style: fireball jutsu!"
"Lightning style: false darkness!"
The elements converged on a single point: Kisame Hoshigaki.
The Shark Man didn't dodge. He swung his massive sword, allowing Samehada to cut and absorb the techniques until all the elements died against the scales.
"My, my," he said, heaving up his sword. "I've never seen Samehada grow this big before."
On a rocky outcrop, the sound of wood clicking against iron echoed.
Tayuya and Jirōbō were breathing hard. They were bruised and bleeding. Standing opposite them was Sasori. Most of his puppet army lay in splinters around him, destroyed by Arthur's last attack.
But he still had one.
The third Kazekage puppet floated silently as iron sand swirled around them like a black storm.
"Is that all you two got?" Sasori asked. Then he twitched a finger, shaping the iron sand into massive spikes. "Iron sand: world order!"
As the technique surged forward, Jirōbō slammed his hands onto the ground, raising a wall of earth. But the sand drilled through it like it was paper. Before Jirōbō could be torn, a giant creature from Tayuya grabbed him and leapt away.
"Why am I always the one being saved?!" Jirōbō asked aloud.
Tayuya stopped playing her flute for the moment to scream, "Quit complaining, you fool, and do something useful!"
Elsewhere, Jasper was looking for Arthur, and he was the only person who seemed to have the guts to do it.