"Matsudo! Hey—Matsudo, what's taking you so long?"
Two Sand shinobi stood waiting near a dune, calling impatiently toward the small ridge where their teammate had gone a few minutes earlier. The three of them had come together to relieve themselves before the next battle rotation. Now, two had returned… but Matsudo still hadn't moved.
"Why is that idiot so slow?" one muttered. "We'll miss our rotation if he keeps dawdling."
"Come on," the other said, frowning. "Let's check."
They took only a few steps before hearing soft footsteps crunching through sand. A figure emerged from behind the rocks — the one they had been calling for.
"Matsudo! What were you—" the older of the two began, but the man waved him off irritably.
"Blame me? I'm a grown man," Matsudo grumbled. "Takes a bit longer. You two are the ones done in three seconds — maybe train your bladder next time."
The two men froze, then burst out laughing.
"Still got jokes, huh?" the older one said. "You marry one woman and suddenly you think you're some kind of legend."
The younger shinobi grinned. "So it's true then, Brother Matsudo? Is your wife really that good? Maybe introduce me to one of her friends sometime."
'Matsudo' snorted. "Kid, you can't even handle D-rank missions without whining. You think you can handle a widow? Come back after your voice stops cracking."
That earned another round of laughter. The tension broke; the two Sand ninjas had no idea they were chatting with a killer wearing their comrade's face.
Lock hid his relief behind Matsudo's voice. He'd been ready to slit both throats at the first hint of suspicion. Now, he simply followed their lead as they headed back toward the valley.
"Enough talk," the older man said. "Lord Kazekage's orders were clear. If we're late for rotation, our heads won't even make it back to the village."
Lock nodded quickly. "Right, right. Let's move."
They rejoined the main formation at the canyon entrance, blending into the tide of armored shinobi preparing for the next charge. No one paid special attention to him; faces were weary, chakra signatures dulled by exhaustion and dust.
Lock allowed himself a slow exhale. So far, so good.
The valley ahead glowed faintly under the afternoon sun, its air thick with sand and chakra haze. Inside, hundreds of Sand ninjas were already engaged in brutal combat. Explosions of earth and metal echoed through the gorge like cannon fire.
And then — he saw it.
Lock froze. Even from this distance, the creature dominated everything.
It was colossal — over thirty meters tall, its skin a leathery brown, muscles like boulders beneath armor-thick hide. Four claws dug deep into the sand as it reared back and smashed its front limbs down, shaking the entire canyon. Each blow sent shockwaves through the ground, flinging shinobi through the air like paper dolls.
"By the Sage…" Lock whispered.
He had seen monsters before — summoned beasts, abominations of failed experiments — but this thing was different. There was a raw presence to it, an unfiltered chakra pressure that made his skin prickle.
Another roar thundered through the valley, followed by an eruption of sand and shattered rock. The ground split open beneath its strike. Dozens of shinobi stumbled, falling over each other.
"Substitution! Pull back!" a commander bellowed from near the entrance.
The inner troops disengaged, retreating at full speed while another wave prepared to take their place. Lock and his group joined the charge forward, rushing past the exhausted fighters fleeing the gorge.
He felt the heat of battle the moment he crossed the canyon threshold — a storm of chakra, screams, and sand swirling in every direction.
Then he looked up — and froze again.
Above the monster's massive head shimmered something impossible: a glowing crimson band of light, hovering in midair like condensed chakra. Within it pulsed faint, flickering patterns — slowly receding, like liquid draining from a jar.
Lock blinked hard, thinking it was an illusion. But no matter how he shifted his gaze, it remained there.
A bar of blood.
He stared, stunned. What in the name of—
He'd seen chakra signatures before, seen seals and sensory markings, but nothing like this. It wasn't genjutsu — he could feel it in his instincts. That red band represented the creature's life force. And most of it… was gone.
Two-thirds drained already… so that's what this battle has cost them.
"Matsudo! Stop staring!" The older shinobi beside him shoved his shoulder. "We're front line this round — close quarters. Keep your guard up or you'll be a smear before the medics even find you!"
Lock nodded sharply, forcing himself to move. "Right!"
He charged with the others, weaving through explosions and debris, each step bringing him closer to the beast. The sand beneath his boots shook with every tremor of its movement.
In the chaos, Lock observed. Despite the sheer number of attackers, only a handful were doing real damage. He spotted them instantly — the elite among Sand's ranks.
One stood out above all — a blue-haired shinobi clad in dark battle armor, controlling clouds of black iron sand that lashed out like storm waves. Every motion of his hands sent torrents of metallic dust striking the monster's limbs, slowing its attacks.
Magnet Release… Lock's gaze sharpened. That has to be him — the Third Kazekage.
Around him, puppet masters unleashed swarms of mechanical soldiers, their segmented bodies clattering as they hurled blades and hooks at the creature's hide. Each puppet shattered within seconds, but another immediately took its place.
Further away, another shinobi raised his arms, commanding swirling rivers of gold dust that sparkled under the sun — similar to the Kazekage's technique but lighter, faster. The resemblance wasn't lost on Lock.
So that's it… Kazekage and his successors together.
He couldn't decide which was more terrifying — the monster that refused to die, or the idea that Sunagakure was willing to throw its greatest weapons into this fight just to bring it down.
Still, one thought pulsed at the back of his mind as the ground quaked again, and the red bar flickered ominously above the creature's head:
Whatever that thing is… It's almost out of blood.
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