The battlefield burned red.
Bodies littered the scorched ruins of the Mutant Brotherhood's base, and in the center of it all stood Ryuuto — soaked in blood, eyes sharp as a drawn blade.
"Shion," he muttered, flicking gore off his decapitating blade. "How's the mission progress? I've lost count."
[Ding! You've eliminated seven high-ranking Mutants. Three left to complete the objective!]
"Three? Pfft, that's just dessert."
Before he could even move, another squad of mercenaries stormed in — armored, twitchy, and very much out of their depth. None of them were Mutants; just human fodder trying to look brave.
"Oh great," Ryuuto sighed. "The bargain-bin crowd. Get lost before I trip and vaporize you by accident."
They didn't.
Dozens of rifles snapped up. Gunfire exploded into a wall of fire and noise.
Ryuuto didn't even blink.
"Earth Style: Earth Wall. Earth Flow River."
The ground split apart. A massive rock bulwark rose before him, swallowing the gunfire like it was rain. The follow-up mudslide hit the mercenaries a second later — washing them away in a brown tsunami.
When the dust cleared, silence reigned.
Then, clap… clap… clap.
"Well, well," a mocking voice drawled. "Bold enough to massacre inside the Brotherhood's base. You've got guts, kid."
Three figures stepped out from the smoke — each radiating that heavy, dangerous pressure that screamed boss fight.
One with molten skin. One cloaked in psychic distortion. And one — tall, sharp-eyed — whose aura felt like a void that devoured energy itself.
"Hey, fate's playing favorites," one of them sneered. "Magneto's gonna pay big for your head."
Ryuuto tilted his head, squinting. "One... two... three." He grinned. "Perfect. Just the number I needed."
The tall one — Desolation — snarled. "You think you can joke at a time like this? You're already dead, brat!"
"Oh, you're gonna kill me? With those faces?" Ryuuto cracked his knuckles. "Then come on. Let's see who regrets showing up."
The empath moved first. "Devil Dragon! Go!"
The concrete split open as a monster — a twisted, wingless dragon of living flesh — tore through the ground, roaring toward Ryuuto with jaws wide enough to swallow a truck.
At the same time, the empath raised his hands. Red waves pulsed outward — emotional manipulation energy, the kind that shredded focus and willpower.
"Enjoy despair!" he taunted. "Feel the weight of your own hopelessness!"
"Cute trick," Ryuuto muttered, his Sharingan eyes flickering crimson. "Too bad I've already lived worse."
He forced his own chakra to surge, crushing the empath's influence under raw spiritual pressure. The air cracked like glass.
"Now it's my turn."
He spun in a blur —
"Leaf Great Whirlwind!"
His kick slammed into the dragon's snout with enough force to bend steel. The creature's massive body tore through two walls and vanished into rubble.
"Who's next?"
Desolation charged, hands glowing with white light that pulsed like a collapsing star. "Me!"
Lightning sparked around Ryuuto's hand.
"Lightning Style: Raikiri!"
He darted forward, a bolt of living thunder.
Their powers collided — lightning against the draining void.
Desolation laughed through the surge. "You're feeding me energy, fool!"
His body drank in the lightning, veins glowing bright. Then his left eye ignited, releasing a sharp, oscillating beam — a sonic-electronic pulse that cracked the air like thunder.
Ryuuto crossed his arms, bracing as the shockwave blasted him back through the debris.
"Alright," he muttered, landing in a crouch, hair sizzling with static. "You eat lightning. Got it."
His eyes narrowed, a smirk cutting across his face.
"Then how about you try choking on fire next?"
The ground beneath him began to heat — flames spiraling outward in a vortex.
"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu!"
The blaze roared to life, painting the Brotherhood's ruined base in crimson light as Ryuuto charged again — a blur of flame, fury, and sarcasm, unstoppable as a storm.