Miria, still trembling from the immense chakra pressure, forced herself to focus. Isobu's mental challenge—Prove your claim... Show me the proof of this 'future' you speak of.—was a direct command, and her only path forward.
"I can't show you the future, Isobu," Miria called out, her voice raspy, but her resolve unwavering. "I don't have the power of an Oracle. But I can tell you what is coming. And you will see it with your own eyes, very soon."
She took a deep, shaky breath, allowing her [Observer's Log] to sift through the precise timeline of Isobu's canonical capture. "Within the next few days," she stated, her voice cutting through the lingering tension in the air, "the Akatsuki will arrive. Not just any Akatsuki members, but Deidara and Tobi. Deidara will scout from above, riding on gigantic clay birds. He will drop explosive mines into the lake to force you to surface."
She pointed vaguely towards the sky, then mimicked a swirling motion with her hand. "And Tobi... he's the masked one. He uses a unique Space-Time Ninjutsu, a vortex that warps reality. He will appear unexpectedly, and his goal will be to suck you into his dimension when Deidara forces you out."
This specific, detailed prediction hung in the air, raw and impossible for a normal human to know. It was information only a high-ranking Akatsuki member, or a very well-informed sensory ninja who had somehow escaped, could possess. Isobu, a creature that had lived through countless captures, would recognize the chilling accuracy of the described methods, even if the names meant nothing to it.
The lake, which had been still, now began to ripple with a subtle, internal agitation. It wasn't the raw power surge from before, but a slow, churning unease. Miria could feel Isobu's immense, ancient mind sifting through her words, comparing them to its own memories of being hunted, of the painful experience of being forced from its home. The silence stretched, heavy with disbelief and a nascent, primal dread.
You speak with the conviction of prophecy, yet possess no energy to even stand against a common shinobi. Isobu's thought brushed against her mind, still skeptical, but the words "Deidara" and "Tobi," the mention of flying clay and a warping dimension, had clearly hit home. If this 'future' is true... then what do you propose, little human? My evasions are already perfected.
Miria finally allowed herself to slide off the rock, into the shallow water near the islet, letting the cold numb her aching limbs. "Your evasions are perfected against Konoha, against Kirigakure, against the ninja you know," she replied, her voice now softer, more persuasive. "But Akatsuki is different. They have tools, and a global network, and knowledge of your past Jinchuriki that you may not even realize. I can tell you when to move, where to hide within the lake's vastness, how to disrupt their specific plans."
"Wait," she urged, looking up at where Isobu's eye had been. "Wait for them. Watch. See if my words come true. If they do, then we talk. If not... you can simply ignore me. Or crush me. Your choice."
With her final desperate gamble laid bare, Miria began the arduous, shivering journey back towards her grotto, her eyes constantly scanning the vast sky and the churning water. She had delivered her impossible prophecy. Now, all she could do was wait, and hope that Isobu would be compelled to listen. The clock was ticking, and Deidara and Tobi would not be far behind.
Miria retreated to her grotto, the last words echoing in her mind and across the vast, dark lake. "You will see that I speak the truth, then I hope by then it is not too late." Her message was delivered, her impossible gambit laid bare. All she could do now was wait. And prepare.
The days that followed were a torment of anxious anticipation. Miria spent every waking hour on high alert, her emerald eyes relentlessly sweeping the sky and the lake's surface. Her [Threat Assessment] module, usually a quiet hum, was now a constant, high-pitched whine, its sensors straining for any sign of distant chakra signatures, particularly the distinct, volatile aura of Deidara's explosive clay. Her body, though exhausted, was kept in a state of perpetual readiness, every muscle coiled, ready to spring into deeper concealment at a moment's notice.
She meticulously observed the lake. Isobu remained unseen beneath the surface, but the subtle shifts in the water, the deepening chill in the air, and the occasional, almost imperceptible tremors suggested the colossal Bijuu was aware, perhaps even listening, waiting for her impossible prophecy to materialize. The silence between them was not empty, but filled with the tension of an unspoken, universe-defying agreement.
Then, on the third day, as the sun began its descent, painting the western sky in hues of orange and violent red, it happened. A distant, almost imperceptible speck appeared on the horizon. Miria's [Environmental Analysis] zoomed in mentally, confirming what her [Threat Assessment] instantly identified: a large, winged shape, too precise, too stable to be a natural bird.
Threat Identified: Akatsuki. Deidara confirmed. Approaching from West-Northwest.
A cold, hard knot formed in Miria's stomach, a mixture of dread and a terrifying vindication. She was right. The future was unfolding, exactly as she had known it would. But this was no longer just knowledge; it was real, immediate danger.
The speck grew rapidly, resolving into the unmistakable form of a gigantic clay bird, ridden by a lone figure with distinctive blonde hair. Deidara. And undoubtedly, Tobi was either already nearby, masked and lurking, or would soon follow, ready to capitalize on the chaos.
The clock had run out. Miria glanced at the vast, dark lake, a silent plea in her eyes. Isobu was somewhere down there, its immense power stirring, oblivious to the exact nature of the airborne threat descending upon it. She had warned it. Now, it had to believe her.
The giant clay bird, a grotesque mockery of a living creature, grew larger with terrifying speed. Deidara, a small figure perched atop it, was now clearly visible, his long blonde hair whipping in the wind. He was descending, not directly into the lake, but circling it, surveying the vast expanse of water with an artist's cold precision.
Miria, crouched low in her grotto, her body screaming for movement, forced herself into absolute stillness. Her [Threat Assessment] module screamed its highest alert, not just from the proximity of the Akatsuki members, but from the raw, uncontained power she knew they represented. Yet, a defiant, almost suicidal pragmatism settled over her. She knew their methods. She knew their targets.
They won't notice me anyway, she thought, a grim, internal chuckle escaping her. Not like I'm going to move from here.
Her presence was a statistical impossibility – a chakra-less anomaly in a world teeming with energy, hidden by sheer luck and the meticulous art of concealment. Why waste precious energy, or risk detection, by moving? Her only value now was as an observer, a prophet proving her impossible claim. She had warned Isobu. The rest was up to the Bijuu.
Deidara's clay bird dipped lower, circling the lake's center. Then, with a practiced flick of his hands, he began to drop small, white objects into the water. They were clay fish, shaped with crude simplicity, but Miria knew their true nature. Explosive mines. The first one hit the water with a soft splash, sinking quickly into the depths. Then another. And another. Deidara was systematically peppering the lake, attempting to force Isobu to surface.
Deep below, the lake's stillness shattered. Miria felt it more than heard it – a massive, internal shudder that resonated through the very bedrock of the mountains. The water around her grotto began to churn violently, not with the aimless agitation of before, but with a palpable surge of ancient, furious power. The lake's dark surface erupted in multiple places, geysers of water and spray shooting hundreds of feet into the air as the invisible blasts of Deidara's clay fish detonated below.
Isobu was reacting. The immense, unsealed Bijuu was aware of the attack. Whether it was reacting in fear, or anger, or a combination, Miria couldn't tell. But her prophecy was confirmed, violently and undeniably.
Now, the true test began. Isobu knew who was coming. Would it also believe how to evade them, or would its primal instincts prevail? And would Tobi, the masked man, finally make his subtle, terrifying appearance? Miria held her breath, a silent witness to the unfolding battle, her survival now tied directly to the choices of a primordial beast.