In the Hidden Rain Village, beneath the ever-weeping sky, Konan approached Tendo Pain. The sound of her paper wings brushing against the damp air was the only noise in the silence.
"Nagato," she asked softly, her amber eyes narrowing in concern, "what has happened?"
Tendo Pain slowly turned, the ripples of his Rinnegan glinting faintly in the dim light. His voice was low, but carried the weight of inevitability:
"Danzo Shimura is alive. He is currently active in the Land of Water."
Konan froze, startled by the revelation. "The Land of Water? Impossible... Wasn't it confirmed that he perished during the Konoha rebellion?"
Pain shook his head slightly, his tone hardening. "No. He escaped death. Now he moves openly, aiming to seize the Hidden Mist Village itself."
He paused, then added with chilling clarity:
"The recent purge of the Daimyō's Mansion in the Land of Water... was the work of Root."
Konan's expression grew darker, her lips pressing into a thin line. "So," she asked, her voice quiet but cutting, "how do you intend to respond?"
Pain fell silent, the atmosphere around him heavy. After a long moment, his hands formed seals with calm precision.
"Naturally..." his tone was cold as stone, "...I will stop him."
Before Konan could reply, his figure dissolved into mist, and in the next heartbeat, the Six Paths of Pain began materializing in the Land of Water. One by one they emerged in the thick, suffocating fog, their chakra radiating like an oppressive storm front.
At the same time, Konan and Nagato's emaciated true body, confined to a skeletal wheelchair, appeared near the Land of Water's border through Reverse Summoning Jutsu.
Konan stood close by, her gaze fixed on her frail comrade, worry flickering in her eyes. "Nagato... can you truly locate Danzo so quickly in this mist-shrouded land?"
Nagato's thin hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his voice raspy but resolute.
"Elder Genshi of the Land of Water has secretly reached out to us," he explained. "He pleaded for the Akatsuki to expel the invaders. Danzo's ambition threatens not only the Mizukage, but the entire fragile balance of this region."
His lips curled into something halfway between a grimace and a faint smile.
"Itachi and Jūzō are already ahead, tracing Root's movements. Reports suggest that the Masked Man also lurks here... and may have already bent the Mizukage to his will."
At that, even Konan's composure faltered. Her eyes grew sharp as blades.
"Then the Land of Water could become a haven for monsters," she murmured. "If the Masked Man and Danzo both root themselves here..."
Pain's Rinnegan flickered in response, his tone like a judge passing sentence. "Unacceptable. They will be purged."
Konan lowered her voice, hesitation threading her words. "Should we summon more of the Akatsuki to reinforce us? If the Masked Man is truly there—"
Nagato cut her off with a slight shake of his head. "No. This is my battle. I will crush them personally."
Meanwhile, far across the mists, Danzo and his Root operatives finally abandoned secrecy. Cloaked in shadows, they advanced boldly to the gates of the Hidden Mist Village.
The mist parted slowly, unveiling Fourth Mizukage Yagura. His small frame stood firm, his face an unyielding mask of ice. Around him gathered Kirigakure's hardened elite, their silent hostility thicker than the fog itself.
Danzo stopped a few paces away, a wide black straw hat casting his face in shadow. He studied Yagura for a moment, then spoke in his hoarse, steady voice.
"Mizukage-dono," Danzo said calmly, as though greeting an equal. "I have heard much of you."
Yagura's eyes, glassy yet sharp, betrayed no hint of warmth. His voice cut through the mist like a blade.
"Danzo Shimura. Root of Konoha... You are expected."
Behind the Mizukage, the elites of Kirigakure shifted like wolves awaiting the command to strike.
However, just as Yagura's cold words fell, an aged, resonant voice cut through the mist like a bell tolling in the distance:
"Wait... Mizukage-sama."
The dense fog parted, and an old man with white hair and a dignified bearing slowly emerged. His steps were steady, his presence commanding, as though every droplet of mist itself acknowledged him.
The gathered Mist shinobi immediately lowered their heads in respect.
"Elder Genshi..."
Yagura's expression flickered almost imperceptibly, but quickly returned to its mask of icy indifference.
Genshi's sharp eyes locked onto Danzo, brimming with vigilance and open hostility. His tone was calm yet heavy with authority:
"Danzo Shimura is no honored guest. He is a wanted rogue ninja from Konoha. If the Hidden Mist dares to shelter him openly, the consequences with the other villages—and with Konoha itself—will be severe."
The words fell like stones into water. The atmosphere at the village gates grew taut, every shinobi frozen between reverence for their elder and obedience to their Mizukage.
Yagura's lips curled faintly, his voice colder than the mist itself.
"Elder Genshi... I have already made preparations. There is no need to tremble before that pathetic husk of a village called Konoha."
The tension thickened.
Genshi's weathered face hardened, his voice grave. "Mizukage-sama, do you not see the danger? This man is poison. We cannot invite a serpent into our village merely for temporary gain. It will devour us from within."
Danzo stood a step aside, silent, his single eye narrowing. Amusement danced faintly across his face. Watching Genshi's resistance almost amused him; the old man was clinging to ideals already buried beneath blood and shadow.
But then, something shifted.
Danzo's amusement slipped into caution. He felt it—an oppressive gaze, ancient and inescapable, boring into him from the mist itself. Instinct sharpened, and his body stiffened. He scanned the fog-drenched surroundings, searching for its source.
In the distance, cloaked in mist, Tendo Pain observed, his Rinnegan wide and unblinking. His expression betrayed neither joy nor anger, only solemn judgment.
The ground rippled suddenly, as if exhaling. From the shadows rose Black Zetsu, his ink-dark body slithering upward, followed closely by Uchiha Itachi, his face pale but steadier than before, and Biwa Jūzō, the massive Kubikiribōchō resting against his shoulder.
"Leader," Black Zetsu rasped, his voice low and unsettling, "Suzaku's condition has stabilized... for now."
Tendo Pain gave a slight nod, then focused his gaze upon Yagura and Danzo. Through the all-seeing lens of the Rinnegan, the truth was bare.
"As expected," he murmured, "the Fourth Mizukage has long been bound by genjutsu."
Black Zetsu said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough. They both knew the strings of this puppet traced back to one man—Obito. If Obito's grip on the Mizukage persisted, then the Mist itself was little more than a tool of the masked Uchiha.
This couldn't be allowed to continue.
Pain slowly raised a hand, fingers curling as he prepared a seal. With the power of the Rinnegan, he would tear away the illusion shackling Yagura's mind and restore his will—one more puppet freed, one more obstacle to Obito's unseen hand.
But before his chakra could surge forth—
A voice, cold as winter steel, sliced across the battlefield.
"We meet again... boy from the Hidden Rain."
Danzo.
Even before the words faded, his chakra erupted like a detonation. A storm of Wind Release exploded outward, shrieking as it scoured stone, soil, and mist alike. The gale tore through the ground, hurling debris skyward, shaking the battlefield as though a tempest had descended.
The oppressive silence shattered.
At the village gates, Yagura turned his glassy, hollow gaze toward Elder Genshi, his expression sharpening to a blade's edge.
"Elder Genshi... You dare betray Kirigakure? To collude with the Akatsuki in secret... unforgivable."
The elder's face contorted in grief. His voice rang with sorrow and unshakable conviction.
"Mizukage-sama! Wake up! You have been enslaved by illusion for too long. Can you no longer feel it? Can you no longer see?"
But Yagura's eyes remained deadened, unhearing. His voice was merciless.
"There is nothing to awaken from. The only traitor here... is you."
The dam broke.
The gates of the Hidden Mist erupted into chaos. Shinobi clashed against shinobi, water techniques hissing against fire, lightning sparking against wind, the cries of betrayal mingling with the roar of chakra. Civil war had ignited in an instant.
"Uchiha Itachi, Biwa Jūzō—support Elder Genshi!"
At Pain's command, Itachi and Jūzō darted forward, their movements slicing through the fog. But just as they neared the battlefield, space itself twisted.
A vortex spiraled open in the air before them, warping reality with its silent pull.
And from that distortion stepped a figure draped in darkness—spiral mask gleaming faintly in the mist.
Obito.
His gaze fixed immediately on Itachi, his voice deep, mocking, venomous.
"Uchiha Itachi... tell me. Do you truly believe you can stop me now?"
Itachi's face was pallid, his body weakened—but his eyes burned with iron resolve. He gave no reply. Instead, his hand rose in a subtle seal, and at once a storm of crows erupted from his form, black wings blotting the mist, saturating the battlefield in a suffocating genjutsu haze.
Elsewhere, Tendo Pain strode forward, facing Danzo head-on. One by one, the remaining Paths of Pain descended around him, forming a silent wall of godlike judgment.
Danzo sneered.
"So the Rain's phantom god dares to oppose me with borrowed corpses..."
His hands clapped together. The earth groaned.
And then—like skeletal fingers piercing upward—withered trees burst from the ground, roots writhing like serpents as if the land itself had risen to heed Danzo's will.
The battlefield of the Hidden Mist had become a crucible—Akatsuki, Root, Obito, and the very soul of Kirigakure colliding in one inferno of betrayal and power.