Land of Water, Kirigakure.
The Village Hidden in the Mist was now without a Mizukage, its affairs handled entirely by the council of elders. After the devastating losses of the recent war, they bore nothing but hatred for Konohagakure—yet they had no strength left to wage another battle.
Recovery was their only path forward.
Fortunately, Kirigakure lay deep in the mountains, its territory shrouded year-round in heavy fog. Combined with the isolation of being on an island nation, they could easily seal themselves off from the world. No outside power would dare attempt to exploit their weakness so long as the mists hid them.
But before long, the intelligence reached the elders' hands—intelligence that shook them to their core.
The Hokage had replaced the Daimyō.
"What? The Hokage has usurped the Daimyō's position?"
"Konoha reveals such ambition… If we were to unite with the other villages and strike them now, surely we would triumph!"
"Don't be foolish. The last war crippled us. It will take at least three to five years before we can even begin to recover. Even if we forced ourselves into battle now, what spoils could we possibly claim? The cost would outweigh any gain."
"That's true. We lost over a thousand elite shinobi, and even our Mizukage fell. To make matters worse, our tailed beast—the ultimate weapon—was taken as well. I'd wager the Hokage timed his revolution to strike precisely at this moment."
"…But if Konoha could do it, then perhaps we could too…"
Land of Lightning, Kumogakure.
The body of the Fourth Raikage was carried home, and the entire nation mourned.
Yet before a new Raikage could even be chosen—or decisions made about vengeance—fresh reports arrived. The news shook even the Lightning Daimyō himself.
Though Kumogakure had been bloodied in defeat, its foundations remained unshaken. They still had powerful pillars such as Killer B. In other words, the strength for revenge was there. But they now also recognized the terrifying example Konoha had set under the Hokage's rule.
A wave of fear rippled through the Daimyō's court. They feared Kumogakure might follow Konoha's example and topple their own authority.
In desperation, the Daimyō personally intervened in the succession process. He proclaimed that during the Fourth Raikage's reign, Darui had served as his closest and most trusted right hand. He emphasized that Darui's talent and strength were both exceptional. Though young, so long as he had the veteran Tutai to advise him, he could shoulder the burden of leadership.
The Daimyō then declared the true priority: rebuild their forces swiftly, punish the Hokage's treachery, and avenge Lord A.
Whether victory could be won mattered little to the Daimyō. His true aim was clear—by dragging Kumogakure into war, he could weaken the village and secure his own throne. If, by some miracle, they won, he could restore the Daimyōs' supremacy over shinobi and put history "back on track." If they lost, Kumogakure alone would bear the destruction, further cementing his control.
But Darui was not a man blinded by hatred. Now that he bore the mantle of Raikage, his responsibility was first and foremost to the village. A reckless war would lead only to annihilation.
After convening his council, Darui declared his judgment: Kumogakure must recuperate. Revenge for Lord A would come someday—but now was not the time.
What's more, he clearly saw through the Daimyō's ploy. Their insistence on war was not about honoring the Fourth Raikage's death. It was nothing more than fear of losing power.
Thus, after much inner conflict, Darui not only refused to march to war—he instead sent envoys to Konohagakure, seeking to reforge a peace treaty.
For now… they would endure. For Lord A. For the village.
Iwagakure.
For over a decade, the Stone Village had enjoyed an uneasy peace. And no one valued that peace more than Ōnoki, the aged Third Tsuchikage. He knew too well the true cost of war.
So when news reached him of the chaos between Konoha, Kumo, and Kiri, he remained cautious, choosing not to intervene. To do so would risk plunging the world into a Fourth Great Ninja War.
But what Ōnoki never expected… was that Konoha would not only suppress the flames of war so quickly, but then proceed to abolish the Daimyō's rule entirely.
"…Could this really be the work of Hiruzen Sarutobi?" Ōnoki muttered, his expression grim.
From his understanding, Hiruzen was a by-the-book shinobi—loyal to tradition, loyal to the Daimyō. A man of age and restraint. Revolution, let alone such blatant overthrow, was not his style.
"…Or perhaps another hand is behind this."
The thought made the old Tsuchikage's chest tighten.
"Tsuchikage-sama… will this affect us as well?" one of his men, Kurotsuchi's uncle Akatsuchi, asked anxiously.
They bore no grudge against the Earth Daimyō. They had no reason to follow Konoha's example. Yet the matter was too grave to dismiss. Surely the Earth Daimyō was already harboring doubts about Iwagakure.
"It's hard to say," Ōnoki sighed heavily. Born before the First Shinobi World War, he had lived through every great upheaval of their world. He was, in every sense, a living relic of shinobi history.
In the Land of Earth, his power might not rival the Daimyō's, but his prestige often exceeded it. To think the Daimyō would have no suspicions now… even Ōnoki himself couldn't believe that.
"Living this long… may not be such a blessing after all."
With a weary groan, the Tsuchikage forced his frail body to rise. More burdens now weighed upon his shoulders.
Amegakure.
Upon the high throne of Rain's tower, Pain's Deva Path sat silently, watching the downpour lash his village.
From his gathered intelligence, he already knew: the Fire Daimyō was dead. The Hokage had seized full control.
Though the shift meant little for his grip on Amegakure, he foresaw the ripple effect it would unleash across the shinobi world.
As he brooded, a figure materialized silently behind him. Cloaked in black, a spiral-patterned yellow mask concealing his face.
"You've come," Pain said, without even turning, his deep voice calm and certain.
"Yes," the masked man replied, nodding. "It seems our plan must be advanced."
He knew their manpower was scarce, and his own strength not yet enough. But he had not been idle. Through secret channels, he had already chosen candidates to join their cause. Their task now was to seek these individuals, win them over, and harness their strength to hunt down every tailed beast.
"And so…" Pain turned, his voice resonant, his will absolute.
"Who shall be our first target?"