"Naruto, this battle is one you cannot win," Minato said softly, his voice carrying the quiet authority that had earned him the moniker of the Yellow Flash. He smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes—those piercing blue orbs that mirrored his son's. The gesture was meant to reassure, but it only highlighted the gravity of their situation. The mysterious warrior before them, with his wild black hair spiking in all directions and a black gi that seemed oddly out of place amid the ninja garb, exuded an aura of unfathomable power. He stood motionless, arms crossed over his broad chest, as if the chaos around him was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
Your father is right," Kakashi Hatake interjected, his voice gravelly from the strain of the fight. The Copy Ninja pushed himself up from his kneeling position, wincing as pain shot through his bandaged torso. His Sharingan eye, still active in his left socket, spun lazily, analyzing the intruder with cold precision. "Even if we all recover from our injuries and replenish our used-up chakra, we're still going to lose. He's not affected by our eyes—Madara tried it, and you saw what happened." Kakashi grunted, steadying himself on his feet, his silver hair disheveled and his mask torn at the edges. The memory of Madara's futile attempt flashed in his mind: the Uchiha's Rinnegan flaring, only for the Saiyan to shrug it off like a gentle breeze. It had been a humbling sight, one that sent chills down the spines of even the most battle-hardened veterans.
The group fell silent for a moment, the distant echoes of clashing weapons and cries from the remaining Allied Shinobi Forces filling the void. Naruto clenched his fists, his orange jacket ripped and stained with blood—some his own, some from allies lost. He wanted to argue, to summon that unbreakable will that had carried him through so many impossible odds, but deep down, a flicker of doubt gnawed at him. Kurama, the Nine-Tails sealed within him, stirred restlessly in his mind, a low growl reverberating through their shared consciousness. *This one's different, kit. His energy... it's not chakra. It's something else entirely.*
Hashirama Senju, the God of Shinobi himself, stepped forward from the shadows of the makeshift command area. His long dark hair flowed like a banner of ancient strength, and his armor bore the marks of resurrection via Edo Tensei—cracks and ethereal glows that reminded everyone of his undead state. Yet, his presence was as commanding as ever, a pillar of hope amid despair. "Let's hear what he wants," Hashirama declared, his deep voice booming across the scarred landscape. He glanced back at the others—Minato, Kakashi, Naruto, and the Second Hokage, Tobirama, who stood rigidly with his arms folded, his white fur collar fluttering in the wind. "If it's not good, then we will do what we have always done: protect our nations by defeating any foe, no matter how powerful they are."
With that, Hashirama advanced toward the Saiyan, his steps deliberate and unyielding. The ground seemed to respond to his chakra, faint vines sprouting at his heels as if the earth itself acknowledged his mastery over wood release. The intruder watched him approach, his dark eyes gleaming with an almost childlike curiosity, though a smirk played on his lips that hinted at something far more dangerous.
"I am Hashirama, the First Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village," he announced, stopping a respectful distance away. His tone was diplomatic but firm, the voice of a man who had forged peace from the fires of war. "Now tell me, who are you, and what do you want?"
The Saiyan—Goku, as he would later be known—uncrossed his arms slowly, his muscles rippling under the torn fabric of his gi. He tilted his head slightly, as if sizing up the legendary figure before him. Without wasting a breath, he replied, "Destruction." The word hung in the air like a death sentence, simple and absolute. His smirk widened, revealing a row of perfect teeth, and he swept his gaze over the army of shinobi arrayed behind Hashirama—thousands of warriors from the Five Great Nations, their banners tattered but their spirits unbroken.
A murmur rippled through the ranks, a wave of unease that threatened to erode their fragile morale. Hashirama's eyes narrowed, his chakra surging through his body like a tidal wave. Veins of power pulsed along his arms, and the air around him grew heavy with intent. "I will not permit that," he stated flatly, his voice laced with the unyielding resolve that had once tamed the tailed beasts.
Goku's smile broadened into a grin, one that spoke of excitement rather than malice. As if in response to Hashirama's challenge, the ground beneath them began to tremble violently. Pebbles and larger stones levitated into the air, defying gravity, and a low rumble echoed across the battlefield like distant thunder. The shinobi braced themselves, kunai drawn and jutsu at the ready, but the sheer scale of the disturbance sent cracks spiderwebbing through the earth.
Far across the battlefield, many miles away in the command tents of the other villages, the remaining Kages received urgent reports via messenger birds and sensory ninjas. Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage, slammed her fist on the table, her honey-brown eyes blazing. "Madara's dead? And now some new enemy? Mobilize everything—we're heading there now!" Beside her, the Raikage A grunted in agreement, his massive frame already crackling with lightning chakra. Mei Terumi, the Mizukage, nodded solemnly, her lava release simmering beneath her calm exterior. Onoki, the Tsuchikage, floated up on his dust release platform, barking orders to his aides. Gaara, the Kazekage, stood silently, sand swirling around him protectively as he contemplated the implications. They all knew the stakes: the fate of the world hung in the balance once more.
Back on the front lines, the standoff shattered into action. Hashirama dashed forward with blinding speed, his wood-style chakra coiling around him like living serpents. Minato followed in a flash of yellow light, his Hiraishin no Jutsu propelling him ahead. Tobirama, the Second Hokage, joined the charge, his water affinity already manifesting in misty tendrils around his form.
Minato reached Goku first, his fist blurring through the air in a series of rapid strikes enhanced by his Flying Thunder God technique. Each punch was a masterpiece of precision, aimed at vital points that would fell lesser foes in an instant. But Goku dodged them all with effortless grace, his body moving like a leaf on the wind. In a counter that seemed almost casual, he lashed out with a single kick to Minato's face. The impact was cataclysmic—Minato was hurled skyward with such force that the air compressed into a sonic boom. He crashed into the nearest mountain, the collision shattering half the peak in a cascade of boulders and dust. The mountain groaned as it split, avalanches tumbling down its slopes.
"Dad!" Naruto screamed, his voice raw with anguish. Rage boiled within him, igniting the bond with Kurama. "Kurama, let's go!" In a surge of crimson chakra, Naruto transformed into the full manifestation of the Nine-Tails, his body enveloped in a massive fox avatar, tails lashing wildly and eyes glowing with feral power. The ground quaked under the weight of his new form, and a roar escaped his maw that shook the heavens.
Hashirama, undeterred, wove a series of hand signs with practiced fluidity. "Wood Style: Prison of the Hokage!" he bellowed. From the earth erupted colossal wooden pillars, each the size of a mountain, twisting and intertwining to form an impenetrable cage around Goku. The structure groaned as it sealed shut, vines and branches thickening into an unbreakable fortress.
Tobirama seized the moment, his hands flashing through seals. "Water Style: Ice Sealing!" A torrent of freezing water cascaded over the prison, crystallizing into layers of thick, unyielding ice that encased the wood entirely. The temperature plummeted, frost spreading across the ground like a white blanket.
Naruto, in his Nine-Tails form, gathered energy in his jaws, the chakra condensing into a swirling sphere of destruction. "Bijuu Bomb!" he unleashed, firing the massive projectile at the frozen prison. The explosion was apocalyptic—a blinding flash followed by a shockwave that hurled shinobi backward like ragdolls. The earth cracked open into a vast crater, smoke billowing upward in a mushroom cloud that blotted out the sun.
"Did we get him?" Sakura asked breathlessly, her pink hair whipping in the wind as she shielded her eyes from the debris.
Kakashi gasped, his visible eye widening in shock as the smoke began to clear. Emerging from the haze, unscathed save for his gi torn open to reveal a chiseled chest adorned with intricate tattoos—symbols of his family and friends from another world—Goku walked forward. His expression was one of mild amusement, as if the assault had been nothing more than a warm-up.
Hashirama charged back in, summoning his ultimate technique. "Wood Style: True Several Thousand Hands!" A gigantic wooden construct materialized, a colossal golem with thousands of arms poised to strike. But Goku merely extended a hand, a small ki blast erupting from his palm. The energy shredded the golem apart in an instant, fragments raining down like wooden hail. As Hashirama plummeted toward the ground, Goku blurred forward with impossible speed, delivering a punch that scattered the First Hokage's body like scattered paper—the Edo Tensei form disintegrating in a puff of smoke and ash. The air screamed from the force, and the ground below shattered into fissures.
"No, not the First Hokage too," whispered some of the shinobi in the ranks, their voices trembling. Fear gripped their hearts like icy claws, weapons shaking in sweat-slicked hands. Morale teetered on the edge of collapse; how could they stand against a being who felled legends so effortlessly?
"Hashirama!" Tobirama roared, his eyes blazing with unbridled rage. The Second Hokage charged in, his chakra flaring like a storm. "Water Style: Twin Mountain Dragons!" From the cracked earth burst two enormous water dragons, each the size of a mountain, coiling and roaring as they surged toward Goku.
Goku smiled, crossing his arms in a defensive stance. The first dragon slammed into him with the force of a tsunami, propelling him upward into the sky, away from the battlefield. Tobirama rode atop the second dragon, his face a mask of lethal intent. "Water Style: Water Nuclear Dragon!" he commanded. The second dragon darkened, swelling in size and power, catching up to Goku and clamping its jaws around him. Their eyes locked for a tense few seconds— Tobirama's filled with vengeance, Goku's with unflinching calm. "Die," Tobirama snarled.
Then, boom—the dragon detonated in a cataclysmic explosion, the blast so intense it turned the night sky temporarily into day. The shockwave rippled outward, flattening trees and sending shock tremors through the distant mountains. Flames and steam erupted in a blinding inferno, the roar deafening as if the very fabric of reality had torn asunder. The shinobi below shielded their eyes, hearts pounding, wondering if this, finally, had ended the threat—or if the nightmare was only beginning.