#70

The concrete wall had turned a deep, molten red from the relentless flames.

Outside, the Sand Shinobi team leader called out, his voice carrying over the roar of the fire.

"Rock Shinobi, surrender now! We don't wish to take lives unnecessarily. We are here to negotiate peace.

Lay down your arms, and we promise no harm will come to you. Once the talks are over, you'll be free to return to your village."

Inside the barricade, Kurotsuchi and her squad exchanged glances.

The situation was dire—if they kept resisting, they'd be burned alive.

There was no way to escape without casualties.

Finally, Kurotsuchi called back, "Can you swear on that?"

The Sand captain replied firmly, "The Kazekage himself guarantees it with his name."

Silence stretched for a moment before Kurotsuchi exhaled in defeat. "Lower your weapons. We surrender."

The Sand Village encampment was stationed on a hill overlooking Amegakure.

The air was thick with mist and the ever-present scent of rain.

Inside the largest tent, Mufasa sat comfortably, entertaining a rather unexpected guest.

"Well, well," Mufasa chuckled, lifting his cup. "Jiraiya of the Sannin, in my camp. Now, this is a surprise."

Jiraiya grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, well, I was just passing through. You know, traveling, researching... the usual."

Mufasa smirked. "Right. Researching. And I'm sure you just happened to stumble into my patrols?"

Jiraiya sighed dramatically. "Alright, you got me. I was heading into Amegakure to check out a certain organization.

Thought I could sneak in, but your little flying drones have gotten annoyingly good. Had no choice but to surrender."

He crossed his arms. "Not looking to start trouble for Konoha, though."

Mufasa studied him carefully, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair. "The Akatsuki? That's what you're after?"

Jiraiya gave a slow nod. "You've heard of them?"

Mufasa chuckled. "Heard of them? I just killed two."

Jiraiya blinked. "You what?"

Mufasa shrugged. "They got in my way."

Jiraiya stared for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. "And here I thought this would be difficult."

Mufasa leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "You do realize what you're walking into, right?

If you go into Amegakure, you're not coming out. You're chasing death, Jiraiya."

Jiraiya's expression flickered, but he forced a grin. "It's something that needs to be done. If not me, then who?"

Mufasa sighed. "That's the problem with you Konoha types. Always trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Maybe it's time you let someone else take the burden."

Jiraiya chuckled. "Oh? And who exactly would that be?"

Mufasa smiled, looking up at the dark clouds rolling over Amegakure. "All of them."

Jiraiya frowned. "What?"

"This whole 'Child of Prophecy' thing—you're looking for one person to change the world. But why just one? Why not all of them? Why not change the system itself?"

Jiraiya was caught off guard.

He had spent years searching for the one who would bring peace, but the idea of making the entire world the prophecy itself had never crossed his mind.

Mufasa clapped him on the shoulder. "You live like a rogue, but you carry a heavier burden than anyone else.

Maybe it's time you actually focused on that writing of yours. I, for one, would love to see a new volume of Icha Icha."

Jiraiya laughed. "You might be the first person to ever see through me like that."

Mufasa grinned. "I have a talent for it."

The two walked up the hill, stopping at the peak.

Before them, the outline of Amegakure was barely visible through the endless rain.

Mufasa pointed at the city. "You came to investigate. I'll help you."

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

Mufasa lifted his hand.

A sharp crackle filled the air as lightning flickered at his fingertips.

In an instant, a massive bolt shot from his palm, slicing through the storm clouds over Amegakure.

The rain shimmered as the electricity spread, illuminating the entire city for a brief moment.

Jiraiya's eyes widened. "You—"

"Rain Tiger at Will Technique," Mufasa explained casually.

"Their leader uses it to sense intruders. But now? He just got a real wake-up call."

A massive surge of electricity crackled through the sky.

The sharp jolt left Nagato momentarily numb, his already frail body unable to resist the overwhelming sensation.

The villagers of Amegakure watched in horror as a web of lightning arced across the stormy sky, illuminating their drenched village with an eerie glow.

Panic spread like wildfire.

Had Sunagakure's forces, stationed on the nearby mountain, come to attack?

For years, Amegakure had known an uneasy peace, yet this sudden show of power shattered the illusion of security.

Murmurs of fear rippled through the streets, citizens glancing toward their leader's tower for answers.

Nagato, still recovering from the unexpected shock, clenched his fists. His pale fingers trembled slightly.

His voice, however, remained calm.

"Konan, what do you think the Kazekage is trying to prove?"

Konan's face remained impassive, though her amber eyes flickered with concern. "There's too little information. He might be showing off, or perhaps demanding resources."

Nagato's lips curled downward. "Hmph. Then go meet him with Tendo Pain. Find out what he wants. If he oversteps... I'll make him understand pain."

Konan nodded. "Understood."

As she turned, a figure bounded toward them, his spiral-patterned mask tilting in curiosity.

"Senpai! Where are you going? Are you off to deal with that annoying Kazekage? Let me come along!" Tobi's voice carried its usual playfulness, though a keen observer might detect the amusement beneath the surface.

Pain's gaze barely shifted. "This has nothing to do with you. Step aside."

Tobi gave an exaggerated sigh and skipped away, arms flailing dramatically.

Meanwhile, atop the mountain, Jiraiya stood frozen, staring at Mufasa with his mouth slightly agape.

"You..."

Words failed him.

Not only was Mufasa waging war with Iwagakure, but now he was picking a fight with Amegakure as well?

"Are you insane?!" Jiraiya finally blurted.

Mufasa remained unfazed, arms crossed as he watched the electrified sky. "What? I'm just offering free electrotherapy. They should be thanking me."

Jiraiya groaned, rubbing his temples. "That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard."

Before their conversation could continue, two dark figures approached from the distance, cutting through the rain.

Jiraiya straightened. "Looks like they took the bait."

Mufasa smirked. "About time. I've been near their village for days, and they never even sent a welcome party. Amegakure's hospitality is severely lacking."

Jiraiya sighed. "I swear, talking to you is bad for my health."

As the two figures landed before them, rain dripping from their cloaks, Pain spoke first.

"Kazekage. Why have you attacked our village without provocation?" His voice was deep, commanding, filled with an eerie calmness. "Are you trying to start a war?"

Jiraiya glanced between the two, taking in their appearances.

Pain, with his spiky orange hair, multiple piercings, and eerie ripple-patterned eyes, had an imposing presence.

Beside him stood Konan, her indigo hair slick with rain, a blue paper flower nestled above her ear.

Jiraiya felt a sense of familiarity but kept his thoughts to himself.

Mufasa, unimpressed, scoffed. "If you're not planning a war, don't throw that word around so casually."

His tone was sharp, his confidence unwavering.

Even Pain and Konan stiffened slightly under the weight of his presence.

Konan's expression darkened. "Watch how you speak to a god."

Mufasa let out a low chuckle. "God? Oh, I see. Just because you took down Hanzo and took over Amegakure, you think that makes you divine?"

He stepped forward, gaze piercing. "Then what does that make me? I crushed Konoha,

I'm wiping out Iwagakure, and I control Sunagakure. Should I call myself the Supreme Kami?"

Konan's hand twitched, ready to strike, but Pain raised a hand to stop her.

"Kazekage, what is it you want?"

Mufasa exhaled, his smirk fading into something more serious. "I don't care what you call yourselves inside your little village.

But this war between me and Iwagakure is happening. And you—" he pointed at Pain, "—need to decide where you stand. With me, or with them."

Pain's voice was steady, but a hint of irritation seeped through. "Amegakure remains neutral. We do not interfere with the battles of the great nations. We have suffered enough."

Mufasa tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Neutral? Are you serious? I've set up camp right next to your village, and you think you can just stay out of this?"

Nagato, from his chamber, clenched his fists.

He was reminded of his past.

The wars that ravaged the Land of Rain, the suffering, the devastation.

Konoha's forces had taken his parents. His friends—his family—had suffered at the hands of the great nations.

And now, Mufasa was demanding he pick a side.

Nagato's anger burned. "Kazekage, you don't understand the world as I do."

Mufasa's smirk returned. "Oh? Then enlighten me."

Nagato inhaled sharply before launching into his grievances. "Your country is large. When war breaks out, you have the luxury of protecting your land and people. But smaller nations like mine? We become your battlefields.

Every war leaves us in ruin—our people starving, our homes destroyed. And when the dust settles, the great nations remain standing, while we are left in suffering. Is it so wrong to want to avoid that pain?"

Mufasa listened, his expression unreadable.

Then he laughed.

It was a cold, sharp sound that cut through the rain.

"No."

Pain's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Mufasa's voice was mocking, almost cruel. "You call yourself a god, yet you're afraid of pain? A true god would embrace it, understand it, and use it to shape the world."

He stepped forward, electricity crackling at his fingertips. "If you truly wish to bring peace, then pain is necessary.

You must feel it, endure it, and wield it. Only then will you understand true peace."

Nagato's eyes widened slightly.

Those words…

They sounded oddly familiar.

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Word count: 1664