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The wind howled like a living beast with sand and dust swirling endlessly as the Fire of Civilization raged, its flames consuming everything. The once-prosperous lands of the Qin Nation now stood at the threshold of their darkest hour.
"BOOMMMM!"
Even before the colossal Heaven-Shrouding Hand descended, its overwhelming aura, an oppressive force so terrible it seemed to suffocate the heavens themselves, was enough to rend the very earth apart, splitting the ground with deep fissures as the land quaked violently. The void-born planet howled beneath a storm so fierce that the sky seemed to tremble in fear. People shivered uncontrollably, hearts gripped by primal terror.
This scene defied imagination. No ninjutsu, no mortal technique, could ever create devastation of this magnitude. It was as if some aloof Divine Being, gazing down upon the insignificant world below, had struck out in wrath with a single, annihilating claw.
The Qin Nation, vast and boundless only moments ago, seemed pitifully small beneath this descending hand, no larger than a glass bead beneath the palm of a titan.
The heavens roared. The air itself trembled. The titanic palm blotted out the sun, shaking reality as storms tore across the land and the very atmosphere wailed in despair.
With its palm facing the Qin Nation, the Heaven-Shrouding Hand plummeted, pushing aside oceans of air. Sonic booms thundered. Torrents of energy surged, chaotic winds twisting space itself into a writhing distortion.
"BOOOOM!"
Far out at sea, monstrous tsunamis hundreds of meters high rose like serpents from the depths, their wrathful vortexes spinning with murderous force. In the forests, ancient trees toppled like grass in a hurricane. Sand and stone were torn from the ground and hurled into the heavens, utterly powerless to resist the apocalyptic blow.
"Hurry! Hurry! Everyone into the Naruto World! NOW!"
On streets that still remained intact, soldiers appeared in disciplined ranks, their voices cutting through the chaos with urgent commands.
Only now did the masses snap out of their paralysis. Faces pale with terror, they dared not even look upon the apocalyptic hand blotting out the sky. No one spared a thought for what fate awaited their world. One by one, their forms flickered and vanished, vanishing through glowing gateways into a foreign dimension.
Inside the Naruto World, within the heart of the Qin Nation's territory, Senju Hashirama and his companions froze in disbelief. In the streets, countless figures materialized, the crowd swelling by the second until the space could scarcely contain them.
"What… what is happening?!"
"Hashirama! Disaster has struck our world!"
"A colossal hand has descended from the heavens, it's going to crush everything to dust!"
Clan leaders stumbled through the portals, their faces etched with panic and terror, voices overlapping in a cacophony of fear. In an instant, the calm center of the great shinobi nation had devolved into chaos.
That monstrous hand was beyond anything they had ever imagined. Its power exceeded all known worlds, a force so utterly alien that no one could comprehend its magnitude. Before such might, nothing could endure. Nothing could resist.
Even from afar, the energy radiating from the descending palm dwarfed their understanding of chakra. Its nature was deeper, more advanced, so transcendent it left them trembling in awe and horror.
Hashirama's face darkened as his consciousness reached across worlds, linking him to the Qin Nation.
There, others who had escaped through the portal stood frozen, staring upward at the titanic hand that spanned the skies.
The Heaven-Shrouding Hand blotted out the sun, plummeting with unstoppable momentum. Every inch it descended unleashed catastrophic storms that ripped across the Qin Nation like the wrath of a god.
Before the central hall, General Yang and his officers had just stepped outside when the buildings behind them collapsed into rubble, crushed by the sheer pressure of the gale.
"What… is that?!"
Zhuge Liang and his companions gazed upward, their pupils contracting sharply. Their minds reeled.
"Quickly! Escort Master Zhuge and the others to safety!"
General Yang's face was pale, his voice sharp with urgency as he barked orders to the soldiers at his side.
Zhuge Liang's group barely had time to register their surroundings before they were whisked away by the escorts, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
"This is… a calamity from beyond the heavens! How can this be happening?!" General Yang's voice shook with disbelief.
"It's too enormous! Even nuclear weapons wouldn't scratch it!"
That hand… a hand so massive it rivaled the planet itself. The thought that there might be a being colossal enough to wield it was unthinkable. No… such an existence could no longer be called human. This was a Divine Entity. A Monster.
He tilted his head back, his breath catching as he saw it, beneath that colossal hand descending from the heavens, a spark of light suddenly flared, piercing the darkness. That spark grew, brighter and brighter, until it burned like a miniature sun.
"It's Gandalf!" General Yang's eyes lit up with a surge of hope and fervor.
And then, from the very fabric of the void itself, a voice thundered, a command that shook the skies.
"Demon Immortal from beyond the stars, begone! This world is not yours to touch!"
It was Gandalf's voice, resonant and unyielding. He stood tall amidst the raging winds, his long staff gripped tightly, his expression grim and resolute. His robes whipped violently about him, and blinding radiance surged around his frame, each pulse of light a shield of sanctity and defiance.
A mocking laugh, vast enough to ripple across the starry void, echoed in reply.
"A pitiful spark, barely brushing the edge of Godfire… and you dare stand against me?"
The scornful words reverberated like thunder, shattering mountains, splitting rivers, and darkening Gandalf's expression.
He could not deny the truth, the being before him was no ordinary foe. This was a true Immortal, a being of unfathomable might. Immortal-level experts, born of the cosmos itself, stood shoulder to shoulder with gods who had fully ignited the Godfire within. They were beings draped in moonlight, radiant and eternal, whose mere presence could obliterate worlds.
"Flee now, and you may yet preserve your life. Defy me… and be buried alongside this world."
The vast voice boomed, and the massive hand began its descent once more, accelerating with unstoppable force.
Gandalf's eyes widened as the shadow of that divine palm loomed over him, his face twisting with strain and fury.
"Haah!"
His roar split the heavens. Holy light burst from his body, and in that instant, his form expanded, larger and larger, until he towered a thousand feet tall in the void.
He raised his staff high. At its tip, a blaze of immaculate white light flared, untainted, pure, and blinding. It burned with divine fire, radiating heat so intense the air itself trembled.
The hand struck. The collision boomed like the cracking of the sky itself, the palm slamming into the glowing staff.
In that single heartbeat, Gandalf's face paled, and blood sprayed from his lips.
"You cannot hold me back!"
Black Tortoise's roar was mad and savage, his laughter a chilling echo of destruction.
The colossal hand pressed downward. Gandalf, towering as a giant, was forced inch by inch toward the earth. Moments later, with an earth-shattering crash, he slammed into the ground. The land ruptured beneath him; countless people, too slow to escape, were swallowed by collapsing terrain and perished in an instant.
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
The sound of splitting stone echoed endlessly as fissures spread across Qin's great nation, the land itself crumbling beneath the overwhelming might.
"Perish, Demi-God!"
Black Tortoise hovered in the heavens, his laughter ringing like a death knell. Beneath him, the planet's atmosphere was ripped asunder, cosmic radiation, gales, and swirling dust creating a maelstrom of chaos.
"Puh! Puh! Puh!"
Gandalf coughed blood again and again, clutching his staff with trembling hands, pouring every ounce of his power into resisting the descending hand. But it was in vain, the Immortal's strength was beyond comprehension.
And then, A figure flashed to Gandalf's side, hands forming seals at blinding speed. In an instant, a towering wooden construct, the Mokuton avatar, erupted into existence, bracing itself beneath the colossal palm.
"Hashirama! You must go!" Gandalf rasped through gritted teeth, eyes blazing.
"At a time when our nation faces annihilation, how could I abandon you to fight alone?"
Senju Hashirama's voice was steady, but blood burst from his lips the moment his Mokuton avatar made contact with the hand. The sheer force was so overwhelming that even touching it left him gravely injured.
What… unimaginable power!
"Not just me," Hashirama said, voice strained but resolute. "We are all here!"
His words made Gandalf pause, disbelief flickering across his battle-hardened face.
And then, one after another, familiar faces appeared beneath the shadow of that palm, clan leaders, elite shinobi, every warrior of renown, arriving in unison, hands flashing through seals at lightning speed.
In this moment, the might of all the great clans, all the strongest shinobi of their age, converged beneath the crushing weight of an Immortal's wrath.
(End of Chapter)