Akatsuki moved in full formation - every member, acting as one.
It was the kind of scene that never truly happened in the original story: no scattered skirmishes, no isolated hunts, but an outright invasion with every shadow stepping into the light. This time, the masked man used Kamui ("Kamui") - a space-time ninjutsu so unnatural it felt like the world itself had been folded and tucked away - to slip past the sensory defenses Chiba had painstakingly woven around Turtle Island. In the next instant, Akatsuki's figures surfaced across the shell's vast ridges as though they had always been there, waiting for the moment to strike.
Then Pain arrived.
With a cold, absolute presence, he descended alongside all Six Paths, a complete and merciless "divinity" landing on the battlefield. At his command, Kabuto Yakushi raised his hands and released Kuchiyose: Edo Tensei ("Summoning: Impure World Reincarnation"), and the island's air seemed to sour with the stench of the impossible.
The scale was grotesque - far beyond Orochimaru's previous assault on Kirigakure. More than a thousand dead shinobi were dragged back into motion, their bodies forced into crude continuity by an eerie, tireless power. Under Kabuto's control, they surged forward like a flood that didn't breathe, didn't hesitate, and didn't stop, charging straight toward Turtle Island's center.
The decisive clash between Akatsuki and the Five Great Nations had finally exploded into open war.
The first to spot the invasion weren't commanders or Kage. It was a patrol moving along the highest curve of the island's back - two shinobi whose teamwork had been forged across too many battlefields to count.
Hatake Kakashi and Might Guy.
The sound hit them like thunder: war cries, impacts, a rolling tide of violence that made the ground feel restless beneath their feet. From above, Kakashi's gaze dropped - and what he saw tightened something in his chest. Kabuto's Edo Tensei army was already advancing in mass, an unstoppable march of bodies that should have stayed buried.
Kakashi's expression sharpened instantly. "Guy - go inform Mizukage-sama. Now," he said, voice clipped with urgency. "I'll hold them back as long as I can."
Guy didn't even blink. "No, Kakashi. You go. I'll stop them."
Kakashi hesitated for the briefest moment - just long enough to measure the risk, just long enough to recognize the stubborn certainty in Guy's eyes - then nodded. There was no time for argument. He gripped Guy's shoulder once, firm and warning all at the same time.
"Be careful," Kakashi said. "Don't do something reckless like taking on the entire Edo Tensei army alone."
Guy answered with a fierce grin, the kind that looked like it was made from sheer willpower, and then Kakashi was gone - sprinting toward the entrance to the inner barrier.
Guy roared and launched himself downhill.
This wasn't a mountain, not truly. It was the highest point of Turtle Island's immense shell, and he was racing along its curved terrain toward the broader plates below, directly into the oncoming wave of the dead. The enemy came in ranks upon ranks - hundreds in front, more behind, a wall of reanimated shinobi whose hollow eyes reflected only Kabuto's command.
Guy didn't retreat. He didn't slow.
He opened the gates.
Hachimon Tonkou no Jin ("Eight Inner Gates Formation") erupted within him like a sealed beast finally unchained. Power flooded his body so violently it felt as though restraint itself had been torn out by the roots.
"Hachimon Tonkou no Jin ("Eight Inner Gates Formation")… Dai Roku, Keimon ("Sixth Gate, Gate of Joy")…"
"OPEN!!!"
A thunderous boom cracked through the air. Green chakra steam burst from Guy in a violent surge, swallowing his frame in a raging aura. His chakra, strength, speed - everything spiked at once, multiplying into something that no longer felt human. The pressure alone fractured the ground beneath his feet, and for a moment the battlefield looked smaller around him, as if the island itself had to yield space to what he had become.
Guy drove forward and threw a single straight punch.
The air detonated.
A compressed blast - the shock of raw force - tore into the front line of the Edo Tensei army. Two reanimated shinobi were obliterated on impact, reduced to dust so completely it looked as though the world had erased them. The friction of the strike ignited the air, flame blooming along the shockwave and scorching several more bodies as it tore through the ranks.
And then the nightmare revealed its nature.
Those bodies didn't stay down.
Cracked bone, shredded muscle, burned flesh - everything crawled back together, knitting itself into working forms with a patience that felt cruel. Violence, against the dead, was only a delay.
Guy's brow furrowed hard, anger sharpening into clarity. "So they really are like zombies…!"
His power was monstrous, but he understood the problem immediately: without fuinjutsu, nothing he broke would remain broken. Aside from sealing, almost any attack was meaningless against Edo Tensei. Guy could use ninjutsu, unlike Rock Lee - but sealing techniques weren't his craft.
Still, fear never touched him. If anything, comprehension only stoked him further.
He forced his chakra higher, boiling hotter, and shifted his stance - taijutsu honed not just for strength, but for relentless domination. Then he unleashed the Keimon ("Gate of Joy")'s true technique.
Asakujaku ("Morning Peacock").
His fists hammered forward in a storm, striking so fast they set the atmosphere ablaze. Each impact detonated like a flare, and countless flaming blows fanned outward in a radiant spread - beautiful and terrifying, like a peacock's tail made of fire and violence. The spectacle was dazzling, but inside that brilliance was density: chakra and force concentrated to an absurd degree.
The front ranks were erased in waves. Dozens of reanimated shinobi shattered, the earth buckling beneath the barrage as Turtle Island trembled under the punishment. Fire rolled through the surrounding dead, engulfing them in flames that would have ended any living army.
Hidden among the marching corpses, Kabuto watched with a faint, entertained smile - like a researcher admiring a rare specimen. "Might Guy… Konoha's taijutsu specialist," he murmured. "A shinobi with close combat this terrifying… truly unprecedented."
His smile sharpened. "But I have someone I'd like you to meet."
Guy dropped from the air and landed hard, breath heavier now. Asakujaku ("Morning Peacock") had cost him - his chakra burned fast, and the gates always demanded their share. He steadied himself, eyes narrowing, ready to surge again -
- and then the army parted.
A man stepped out from within the dead ranks, someone who should not have been standing under this sky.
Guy froze.
"…Dad?"
It was him.
Might Duy.
The man who had died, the man whose name Guy carried like both a scar and a torch, now stood before him with that same familiar posture, that same indomitable spirit. Duy took in the shattered ground, the boiling green steam, the sheer proof of growth - and instead of sorrow, pride lit his eyes as though death itself had failed to dull him.
"Guy!!!" Duy shouted, voice bright with impossible energy. "You didn't slack off - not even once!"
He laughed loudly, fearlessly, as if the battlefield were nothing more than a stage for celebration. "To think your Eight Gates have reached this level! Just opening Keimon ("Gate of Joy")… your power might already surpass what your old man could do even with Shimon ("Gate of Death")!"
"HAHAHAHA! That's it - this is true youth!!!"
Guy's chest tightened so hard it nearly hurt more than the gates. His throat worked like he wanted to cry out, to collapse into something softer, something human - but war didn't pause for grief, and the dead didn't stop moving.
"Dad… you…" Guy's voice came out strained, caught between disbelief and longing.
Duy's grin softened, warm in a way that almost made the moment feel crueler. "Of course it's natural," he said, as if explaining something simple. "The Eight Gates are just the release of limits - unlocking what's already inside you and multiplying it dozens… even hundreds of times over."
He jabbed a thumb at his own chest, laughing at himself without bitterness. "You're a jōnin even without the gates. Your dad? I was a lifelong genin."
His eyes shone with that same reckless pride that had once turned desperation into legend. "If I'd had your talent, Guy - if I'd had your gifts - and I opened Shimon ("Gate of Death") back then… those Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist wouldn't have had a single one escape!"
The memory of Duy's death rose like a wave in Guy's mind, heavy and intimate. His fists clenched until the knuckles whitened. "I… I don't want to fight you," he admitted, voice rough.
Duy tilted his head, expression sharpening - not cruel, but insistent, the way a mentor drags a student back into reality. "Why? Because I'm your father?"
He stepped forward, the battlefield reflected in his eyes. "Don't forget where you are. This is war. And besides… your dad is already dead. What's there to hold back for?"
Then he laughed again, full of warmth and fire. "Come on, Guy! Let your old man see how far you've come!"
"This is what real passion - real youth - looks like!!!"
Guy inhaled, steadying himself - not because the pain eased, but because his heart chose a direction. He nodded, slow and solemn, like a vow spoken without words.
"Alright," he said firmly. "I understand, Dad."
The green steam around him thickened, boiling harder, spreading outward in waves. The chakra pressure alone sent cracks spidering across the earth.
Duy couldn't open Shimon ("Gate of Death") - that final gate demanded life as payment, and even Edo Tensei couldn't rewrite that law. But the other gates were still within reach.
He opened the Seventh.
Dai Nana, Kyomon ("Seventh Gate, Gate of Wonder") surged through him, and a fierce blue haze erupted around his body - sweat vaporized instantly by violent energy, blasted outward in a storm of heat and pressure.
Two Eight Gates users.
Father and son.
They roared at the same time and launched toward each other.
Their fists collided.
The impact was catastrophic. The ground split beneath them as if a blade had been driven into the earth, tearing it open. A massive fissure ripped outward, yawning like an abyss, deep enough that the darkness inside looked endless. Dozens of reanimated shinobi toppled into it - still not dead, still moving, but trapped and scrambling in the chasm's depths.
And in that single exchange, something unbelievable happened.
Guy's Keimon ("Gate of Joy") - his Sixth Gate - overpowered Duy's Kyomon ("Gate of Wonder").
Duy was blasted backward, his body detonating under the force. Half of his torso was pulverized into ash and dust, his broken form crashing into the ground far away.
Yet even then, Duy's eyes gleamed brighter. "Good!" he shouted, laughing through ruin. "That's my son!"
"Guy - you really do have talent and power beyond anyone else!"
Edo Tensei would rebuild him, but with one leg shattered into fragments, he couldn't stand immediately. His body struggled to reassemble function, as if even immortality needed time to catch up.
Guy, meanwhile, breathed hard - deep, ragged breaths. The Sixth Gate wasn't free. It carved pain into muscle and bone, dragged stamina downward, and demanded more than the body was designed to give.
Then another figure stepped forward.
White hair. A calm, gentle smile - so out of place amid the violence that it felt almost unreal.
"Guy," the man said softly, "I knew I wasn't wrong about you."
Guy's eyes widened.
The man continued, voice steady, edged with quiet nostalgia. "The day you and Kakashi entered the Academy, I told him you'd become the best friend of his life… and his strongest rival."
His smile warmed with pride. "Looking at you now, you've proven it completely."
Guy stared, stunned, as recognition struck like lightning. "You're… Hatake Sakumo?"
Konoha's White Fang.
Hatake Sakumo nodded once, simple and undeniable - legend given shape.
For an instant, Guy couldn't help thinking of Kakashi. If Kakashi were here, seeing his father standing like this… what would it do to him?
But war didn't allow tenderness.
Kabuto's cold laugh cut through the moment. "Now isn't the time for reunions."
His fingers moved - subtle, almost lazy - and both Duy and Sakumo shifted at once, their bodies responding like puppets yanked by invisible strings. They rushed Guy together, ruthless and precise.
Duy surged in again with Kyomon ("Gate of Wonder") flaring, his taijutsu pressure relentless. Sakumo followed with a short blade in hand, movements crisp and lethal, his chakra control frighteningly sharp.
White Fang - Sakumo's famed blade - had once been passed down to Kakashi, only to be broken during the Kannabi Bridge mission. Even so, in Sakumo's hands, any short sword became an extension of pure killing intent.
Though both men could only draw out seventy or eighty percent of their living strength, together they forced Guy back step by step. Each block rang through Guy's bones, each clash a reminder that raw power wasn't always enough when immortality and control pressed from all sides.
Then the air changed.
From above, Pain's Deva Path descended slowly, floating down like a god passing judgment. His presence was quiet, but absolute - heavy enough to make everything else feel smaller.
"The bijuu and their jinchūriki aren't on the surface of Turtle Island," he said calmly. "They're hidden inside the barrier within the shell."
His Rinnegan gaze narrowed. "A passage to the inner barrier has been found."
With a single command, the entire assault shifted. Akatsuki changed direction without hesitation, and Kabuto's Edo Tensei army flowed with them - an undead river redirected toward the entrance.
Guy's eyes widened as he realized even Duy and Sakumo were being pulled away, abandoning their duel to follow Kabuto's will. Instinct screamed for him to chase, but he forced himself to breathe through the urgency. If the enemy was heading for the entrance, then the defensive line would already be forming there - Mizukage-sama wouldn't be caught unprepared.
At the same time, Kakashi reached the entrance and alerted the elite shinobi stationed there, along with the Allied Shinobi Forces from the Five Great Nations. After reinforcing the outer defenses, he entered the barrier himself to inform Chiba and the remaining jinchūriki within.
Inside, Chiba listened - and smiled.
"So they finally came," he said softly, without surprise. There was no panic in him, only measured calm, as if this moment had always been part of the plan.
"Good," he continued, eyes sharpening with quiet intent. "Then we'll finish it all at once."
He ordered every jinchūriki to remain inside the barrier and forbidden them from joining the fight. Whatever was coming, Chiba intended to meet it personally - on his terms.
Then he left the barrier with Kakashi at his side, stepping into the open to face the enemy head-on.
The instant he appeared, the elite shinobi of the Five Great Nations - and the Allied Shinobi Forces - finally exhaled, a collective release of tension they hadn't realized they were holding.
When they had been enemies, every shinobi who faced Chiba had felt it - an instinctive dread wrapped in reluctant awe, the kind of pressure that made even veterans measure their breathing. But now that he stood as an ally, that same force became something entirely different. It settled over the coalition like armor: a quiet, unshakable reassurance that as long as Chiba was here, the line would not break.
That was the presence of a true powerhouse. Not theatrics, not empty intimidation - authority so absolute it didn't need to be announced.
Then Turtle Island shook again.
The distant cries that had been rattling the earth finally swept close, the roar of killing intent rolling forward like an oncoming tide. At the very front, exactly as expected, came Kabuto Yakushi's Edo Tensei ("Impure World Reincarnation") army - an advancing sea of the dead, moving in perfect obedience.
The allied shinobi stared, and for a heartbeat the world felt unreal.
Because those weren't strangers.
Among the reanimated ranks were fallen shinobi from every great nation. Some were recognizable by their gear, others by their stance, their chakra signatures, their faces. There were people they had fought beside - senpai they had respected, comrades they had trusted, friends they had laughed with. For some, it was worse: blood relatives, returned not as themselves, but as weapons.
Shock hit first - cold and numbing.
Then it turned, quickly and violently, into rage. Grief had nowhere to go, so it sharpened into hatred, burning behind clenched teeth and trembling hands. The enemy hadn't simply brought an army - they had dragged the coalition's dead into the sun and dared them to watch.
And that single cruelty unified them more than any speech could have.
Facing hundreds - then thousands - of Edo Tensei shinobi, Chiba stepped forward without hesitation, taking the point as naturally as breathing. He didn't look back. He didn't need to reassure them with words. His posture alone made a promise: this was where the advance would end.
He lifted his right hand.
The temperature dropped so abruptly it felt as if the air itself had cracked.
Then the world erupted into frost.
A violent surge of absolute cold burst outward - his signature killing move, refined into something clean and merciless.
Hyōga Jidai ("Ice Age").
But unlike the blunt cruelty most people feared, this was not mere destruction. Threaded through the freezing torrent was the unmistakable structure of fuinjutsu - a sealing force woven into the ice like chains in a glacier, meant to shut down the enemy's unnatural persistence.
The ground groaned under the pressure.
In the time it took to draw a breath, the front lines of the Edo Tensei army were swallowed. Dozens became scores - scores became a mass of frozen bodies locked in place mid-stride, their movements arrested as if time had been pinned down. The ice didn't simply immobilize them; it sealed them, preventing their bodies from rebuilding and dragging them into stillness they couldn't shrug off.
The wave of Hyōga Jidai ("Ice Age") continued to spread, devouring the battlefield in a shimmering white -
- and at that exact moment, a voice rang out from above, calm and absolute, like judgment delivered from the sky.
"Shinra Tensei ("Almighty Push")!!!"
It was Pain.
Akatsuki's leader had arrived.
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