7. The Speed That Transcends Light

The First Exchange

Gaara's breathing was shallow, measured, but beneath his controlled exterior, something was unraveling.

For the first time, he had been forced to acknowledge reality.

Lee was not an opponent he could simply crush. He was not prey to be devoured by his sand, not an arrogant shinobi who would waste his time on jutsu that were too slow to reach him.

No.

Lee was something else entirely.

Something Gaara had no concept of.

Something unpredictable.

His sand coiled tightly around him, reacting to the silent command of his unease. It was not moving with its usual fluid grace—it was tense. It could sense what Gaara could not.

That something was very, very wrong.

Lee had not moved. Not since that last attack.

His stance was relaxed, his hands at his sides, his expression completely unreadable. There was no arrogance in his posture. No anger. No amusement.

Just patience.

Like a storm waiting to break.

Gaara had never faced something like this before.

But he would not allow himself to be afraid.

No.

Not again.

His fingers twitched. His sand responded.

Not with defense. Not with hesitation.

With violence.

A tidal wave of sand exploded from the ground, a massive surge of crushing weight, twisting mid-air into a serrated spear large enough to impale an entire platoon.

Faster than his previous attacks.

Sharper.

More lethal.

It shot forward with a force that cracked the stadium floor beneath it, shattering the ground where it had been summoned.

But Lee—

Lee was already gone.

No blur. No flicker.

Just a gap.

A void where he had once stood.

Gaara's sand missed completely.

And before he could process that failure, Lee appeared in front of him.

Not moved. Not dodged.

Appeared.

Gaara's sand reacted, moving on pure survival instinct, but—

Too late.

Lee struck.

His fist connected, but not with brute force.

Not with overwhelming chakra.

But with something far worse.

Impact delay.

The moment his knuckles brushed against Gaara's sand armor, a pulse of pure force ignited from the contact point, warping the air around them, sending out a rippling shockwave that was invisible to the naked eye.

For a fraction of a second, there was no reaction.

No explosion. No immediate force.

Just silence.

And then—

The entire stadium shook.

Gaara's body was launched backward like a bullet from a railgun. His sand shattered from the sheer force of the delayed impact, splitting apart as he was flung across the battlefield.

He barely had time to react.

His sand moved, struggling to catch him, to stop his momentum, but his own defense was too slow.

Gaara crashed into the far wall.

The stone cracked on impact, fragments of debris raining down around him, the entire arena quaking from the sheer force of it.

The crowd was stunned.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Because none of them had seen it.

Not the shinobi in the stands. Not the proctors. Not even the Jonin watching above.

Even with Sasuke's Sharingan activated, even with Neji's Byakugan trained on the battlefield, none of them had been able to perceive what Lee had just done.

Because it wasn't just speed.

It wasn't just strength.

It was something beyond both.

A fundamental rejection of the limitations that shinobi had always accepted as law.

Sasuke clenched his jaw, his fingers curling into a tight fist. His Sharingan spun wildly, replaying the moment, analyzing every fragment of the exchange—but there was nothing to see.

Lee had moved beyond the threshold of perception.

Beyond the limit of what the human mind could process.

Sasuke could not track him.

And that realization—

That simple, undeniable fact—

Set his nerves on fire.

Because this was impossible.

Neji was silent beside him, his Byakugan veins still pulsing, but his face was locked in an expression of pure disbelief.

He had always believed in destiny.

Had always believed that the Hyūga stood above others, that the power of his eyes made him superior.

But even with the all-seeing Byakugan,

Even with absolute vision,

He had lost sight of Lee.

Guy did not move from his place in the stands, arms crossed, watching.

His eyes, so often filled with fiery passion, with loud declarations of youthful energy, were quiet.

Because he understood.

Lee had left behind the limits of mortals.

This was not simply the product of training.

Not simply the result of willpower.

This was ascension.

The moment Gaara pulled himself from the rubble, the air itself burned.

Not from chakra.

Not from fire.

But from friction.

The sheer force of Lee's previous attack had ignited the oxygen around them.

Gaara exhaled, slow and controlled, but his pupils had shrunk.

His sand trembled.

Because for the first time, Gaara did not feel like a monster.

For the first time, Gaara felt like prey.

But he did not have time to dwell on that feeling.

Because Lee had already moved again.

A gust of wind—no, something more.

Something faster.

Gaara barely had time to process it before Lee's next strike slammed into his defense.

Then another.

Then another.

Hundreds.

Each one delayed by milliseconds, each one stacking on top of the last.

Gaara's sand began to crack under the weight of them.

It had never cracked before.

Never even come close.

But now—

Lee was breaking reality itself.

Gaara could feel his armor failing.

Could feel his sand struggling to keep up.

And for the first time—

He had no idea how to stop it.

Lee did not relent.

He did not slow down.

Because he did not need to.

Gaara had already lost control of the fight.

He had lost it the moment Lee stepped into the arena.

And now—

He was running out of time.