Far from the peaks where Akari honed forgotten Words, a different storm brewed across the shinobi world.
The borders of the great nations had grown thin—lines drawn in fading ink. Whispers of war no longer crawled; they marched. Hidden Stone, Hidden Mist, and the minor clans of the north stirred with unease, their eyes turned toward the glowing heart of the continent: Konoha.
And in the shadow of this storm, something else awakened.
---
Land of Rivers – An Abandoned Battlefield
Crows circled above the dead trees. Mist clung to the broken ground, hiding the scars of a forgotten battle.
From the fog stepped a woman clad in white and silver. Her hair was long and pale, her eyes hollow yet luminous. She walked barefoot over bloodied stone, untouched by the chill.
Behind her, a trail of masked figures emerged—silent, cloaked, weapons unsheathed but unused.
A small boy knelt before her, trembling.
"You spoke to the fire," she whispered. "You saw him?"
The boy nodded weakly.
"Then you will forget."
A soft Word passed her lips—inaudible, yet final. The boy collapsed, breathing, but still.
She turned to her followers.
"He carries the First and the Second. He cannot be allowed to speak the Third."
The masked figures bowed as one.
"The Flame-Bearer must be silenced."
---
Konoha – Hokage's Office
Hashirama stood near the window, hands behind his back. The sun filtered through the lattice, painting bars across his face. Madara leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"There's movement in the Land of Rivers," Tobirama said, laying scrolls across the desk. "Unmarked groups. Highly skilled. Not affiliated with any hidden village."
Hashirama's brow furrowed. "Rogues?"
"No," Madara said quietly. "They're looking for something. Or someone."
Hashirama looked at him. "You think they're after Akari?"
"I know they are."
Silence fell.
Finally, Hashirama said, "We need him back."
---
Northern Peaks – The Stone Monastery
Akari knelt on the high platform, his breath slow, measured. Snow drifted into the open chamber, yet none settled on him.
Before him floated a single black flame—tiny, elegant, and alive.
He spoke.
"Kirei."
The flame vanished.
Then bloomed again.
The monks watched from the shadows. One of them whispered to the others:
"He's ready."
Another replied, "No. Not yet. But he will be, before the world decides."
---
Midnight – A Dream Unfolds
Akari stood in darkness, alone. But the sky above shimmered, stars forming into faces—flickering visages of the past and future. Among them, he saw Madara's eyes. Hashirama's laughter. Blood on stone. Fire rising from water.
And a voice, clear as dawn:
> "When the Third Word is spoken, the sky shall burn. And only those who listen shall remain."
Akari awoke with a sharp breath, hand instinctively gripping the hilt of the blade beside him.
The monks were already waiting.
"It is time," the eldest said. "The Word is ready for you. But the world is not."
Akari stood, firelight dancing in his eyes.
"Then I'll teach it to them."