---
The clearing still stank of blood and steel. Corpses littered the ground, their lifeless masks staring blankly into the sky. The silence that followed the Obsidian Elite's disappearance was worse than the clash itself. Silence like that didn't feel like victory — it felt like a warning.
Minato stood with his hands on his knees, head bowed, chest rising and falling with steady breaths. His ribs still throbbed from where the elite's kick had landed, but pain wasn't the thing gnawing at him. It was the voice. That calm, unshaken voice.
"You are fast… but not enough. The storm will be ours."
Sakumo slid White Fang back into its sheath, his face unreadable in the dim light. His hair was damp with sweat, and his movements betrayed exhaustion despite his stoic expression. "That wasn't a battle. It was a measurement," he said at last, eyes fixed on the ground. "They weren't testing themselves. They were testing us."
Duy staggered over, his breath ragged, fists still trembling. His green jumpsuit was torn, his knuckles bleeding, but his back remained straight. His eyes burned with defiance. "Then let them measure all they want. We're not stopping. Not until we get Ryuzen back."
Minato forced himself upright, his sharp eyes cutting toward the north. The faintest shimmer of chakra clung to the air — a trace most wouldn't have noticed, but his senses caught it like a thread in the dark. Storm chakra. Ryuzen's storm. "He's close. Or at least… they want us to think he is."
Sakumo followed his gaze. The air carried a metallic bite, faint but growing stronger. "A trail."
Minato nodded. "Yes. Deliberate. But if this is the only lead we've got, we follow it."
They set off, leaving behind the broken circle of corpses and stepping deeper into the lands stained by Obsidian's shadow.
---
Tracing the Storm
The journey north was grim. Every mile carried with it signs of what Obsidian had done to this region. Small villages reduced to ashes, their homes collapsed into piles of charred wood. Burnt fields stretched empty, lifeless where life should've thrived.
And worse than the destruction were the people.
Corpses left in ditches. Shinobi and civilians alike, their bodies marked with faint black seals etched across their skin. The ink had burned deep, charring their flesh like cruel brands.
Duy stopped at one such corpse, his fists tightening. His normally warm eyes darkened as he crouched, staring at the lifeless body of a boy who couldn't have been more than twelve. "They didn't even spare children…" His voice trembled, a rare crack in the eternal optimism he carried.
Sakumo placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "That's Obsidian's way. No wasted potential, no wasted fear. Every death has a purpose to them. Either fuel or warning."
Minato crouched down, his hand brushing the black seal. A faint pulse lingered in it, like the afterglow of storm energy. "This wasn't random killing. They're experimenting." His jaw tightened. "They're weaving Ryuzen's power into their tools."
The thought twisted in his gut. Ryuzen wasn't just a captive — he was a resource. A well they intended to drain dry.
---
Bonds Under Pressure
As they moved, the silence between them stretched. Each man was lost in thought.
Sakumo walked slightly ahead, his hand resting near the hilt of White Fang. Though his posture never faltered, Minato saw the tightness in his movements, the heaviness weighing on his mentor's shoulders.
"You're blaming yourself," Minato said quietly.
Sakumo didn't look at him. "If I'd been faster, if I'd struck cleaner, maybe that elite wouldn't have escaped. Maybe we'd have something more than a trail."
Minato shook his head. "If you hadn't been here, neither Duy nor I would still be breathing. That's the truth. Don't discount it."
Duy, walking a few paces behind, spoke up. "Ryuzen believed in us," he said simply. His voice was hoarse, but steady. "He told me once… that even when the world feels like it's burning, we're the ones who choose whether to let the fire consume or guide. If he's still out there… he's waiting for us to make the choice to fight through."
Sakumo glanced back at him, his expression softening just slightly. Minato felt a small surge of warmth despite the darkness pressing around them.
It wasn't just strength that held them together. It was trust. And trust was something Obsidian could never replicate.
---
The First Trap
By the third day, the trail led them into a canyon carved into jagged cliffs. The storm chakra was stronger here, curling faintly along the stone walls like veins of dark light.
"This feels wrong," Sakumo muttered, his hand tightening around White Fang.
He was right. The air was too still. The kind of stillness that screamed of ambush.
The ground shifted beneath their feet. In an instant, seals carved into the canyon floor lit up with a sickly black glow. The corpses scattered along the path jerked to life, eyes snapping open, bodies stiff with unnatural movement.
Dozens of them. Men, women, even children, all marked with seals across their skin. Their chakra was gone, but their bodies moved with cruel precision.
Duy's face twisted in horror. "They're… using their corpses like puppets…"
The first wave rushed forward, silent, lifeless, their movements jerky but relentless.
Sakumo drew his blade with a hiss. "Then we put them to rest."
The canyon erupted in chaos.
Sakumo carved through them with cold precision, each slash of White Fang severing limbs and necks, the corpses collapsing to the ground only for more to take their place. Minato flashed between kunai, cutting down clusters in golden blurs, his movements fluid and efficient. Duy stood his ground in the center, fists hammering through bodies with raw force, his shouts echoing off the canyon walls.
But no matter how many they destroyed, more kept rising.
Minato's sharp eyes flicked to the walls. The seals weren't just on the ground — they were buried into the canyon itself, pulsing with storm energy. He gritted his teeth. "It's the seals! As long as they hold, this won't stop!"
---
Breaking Through
"Cover me!" Minato shouted, vanishing in a flash of gold toward the canyon wall.
Sakumo immediately shifted, his sword cutting a path clean through the wave rushing Minato's way. Duy barreled into the opposite flank, fists crushing anything that moved, buying precious seconds.
Minato landed against the stone wall, his kunai embedding deep into the rock. His chakra flared as he traced the seal with his hand. Complex, layered — a net of binding and control feeding into every corpse. He didn't have time to unweave it delicately.
So he did it violently.
Pouring chakra into his kunai, he overloaded the seal with raw energy until it buckled under the pressure. The wall shuddered, cracks spidering across the surface before a deafening boom ripped through the canyon.
The corpses froze mid-motion. Their seals burned black, then disintegrated into ash as their bodies finally collapsed for good.
Silence fell once more. Heavy, suffocating silence.
Sakumo lowered White Fang, breathing hard. Duy leaned on the canyon wall, his fists dripping with blood that wasn't entirely his own. Minato pulled his kunai free, his chest tight but his eyes burning brighter.
"They're not just killing," he said coldly. "They're collecting. Using. Repurposing. To them, life and death are just tools."
The thought of Ryuzen in their hands burned deeper.
---
The Storm's Whisper
As they left the canyon, the air shifted. The faint shimmer of storm chakra they had been following grew stronger, sharper, like a beacon pulsing in the distance.
Minato stopped, narrowing his eyes toward the horizon. He could feel it clearly now — not just residue, but a flare. A deliberate signal.
Sakumo noticed it too. His voice was grim. "It feels like bait."
Minato nodded slowly. "It is."
Duy clenched his fists. "Then we bite. We don't have a choice."
And there, in the distance, etched into the side of a jagged mountain, they saw it: a fortress, black stone and steel rising like fangs from the earth. Faint lines of storm energy pulsed across its walls, glowing like veins of lightning in the night.
The trail had ended. The storm's heart was before them.
And within its walls… Ryuzen waited.
---
Author's Note
⚡ "The trail of storm chakra has led them to the gates of Obsidian's fortress. The traps grow darker, the cruelty sharper, and the truth of Ryuzen's fate closer than ever. Next: the fortress of shadows reveals its guardians."
---