News spread fast among shinobi.
Faster than fire. Faster than lies.
The Third Tsuchikage was dead.
In Kumogakure, the Raikage paused mid-step as the report was delivered. His eyebrow twitched.
"Huh," he said. "That old fossil finally croaked?"
He waved a hand. "Unfortunate. Anyway, mobilize the eastern division. I don't want Iwa thinking this gives them sympathy."
The messenger hesitated, then bowed and vanished.
In Sunagakure, the Kazekage listened in silence, fingers tapping against his desk.
"Ōnoki… dead?" he murmured.
A pause.
"Tch. Bad timing."
He leaned back. "Increase border patrols. I don't care who killed him. Power vacuums invite idiots."
Kirigakure's Mizukage didn't even bother standing.
"So he's gone," He said, voice flat. "Shame."
He picked up another document. "Proceed with the purge."
Simple. Efficient. Cold.
But when the report reached Konoha, it didn't pass so easily.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat still long after the ANBU finished speaking.
"The Third Tsuchikage…" he repeated quietly.
Dead.
Jiraiya's words echoed in his mind.
He was barely alive when he retreated. Crushed ribs. Chakra pathways shredded. But still breathing.
Hiruzen exhaled smoke slowly.
"At his level…" he muttered, staring at the floor. "Even injuries like that shouldn't have been enough."
Ōnoki was stubborn. Inhumanly so. A man who survived things that should have buried him decades ago.
Did he really die from his wounds? Hiruzen wondered.
Or…
His grip tightened slightly around his pipe.
"I don't know," he admitted to the empty room.
For the first time in years, the death of another Kage unsettled him.
Far below the world.
Deep underground, where light did not belong.
An old, crumbling throne sat in a vast cavern, stone eaten away by time and moisture. Upon it rested an old man, spine bent, eyes closed, breathing shallow.
Beside him leaned a massive scythe, its blade curved like a crescent moon, radiating quiet menace.
The silence broke as the ground rippled.
Two white, humanoid figures slowly emerged from the stone itself, bodies half-formed, faces blank and strange.
One tilted its head.
"Is he pooping?"
The other stared. "Idiot. He's clearly sleeping."
It squinted at the old man. "At his age, it's already a miracle he's awake at all."
The old man's eye snapped open.
"Cut that nonsense," he said, voice dry but sharp. "What do you have to report?"
Both figures froze.
"M-Madara-sama," one said quickly. "Something big happened."
"Yeah," the other added eagerly. "Something very big. But first—can you tell me how it feels to poop?"
Madara ignored him entirely. He had expected this. When he first released them, he knew most White Zetsu were… defective.
Still useful.
He turned his gaze to the quieter one. "Continue."
"The Third Tsuchikage has died," the Zetsu reported.
Madara raised an eyebrow.
"Ōnoki?" he mused. "If I remember correctly, he was rather strong compared to the other Kage."
His fingers tapped against the armrest.
"How did he die? Did the Hokage finally make a move?"
The Zetsu shook its head. "No. This generation's Hokage is too much of a coward."
"Hm." Madara scoffed. "Then the Raikage? Those lunatics are always itching for blood."
The Zetsu hesitated.
"…No."
Madara's gaze sharpened. "Then who?"
The Zetsu took a breath.
"You wouldn't believe it."
Madara waited.
"The one who killed the Tsuchikage is a ten-year-old," it said. "Named Akagame no Shanks. A genin from Konoha."
Silence.
"A… ten-year-old?" Madara repeated.
For the first time in a long while, genuine surprise crossed his face.
"…Are you sure?"
"Quite sure, Madara-sama," the Zetsu replied. "Although we didn't see him clearly at the time. We were only released yesterday."
It continued, voice steady.
"That boy fought Ōnoki to the brink of death the day before. The Tsuchikage was severely injured and barely escaped alive."
"And the boy?" Madara asked.
"He was caught in Dust Release," the Zetsu said. "Turned into paste."
Madara frowned. "So he died."
"Yes. He was quite dead," the Zetsu said. "Or at least that's what the people close to him believed."
The other Zetsu nodded enthusiastically. "Super dead. Like very dead."
Madara closed his eyes briefly.
"Yet," the Zetsu continued, "when we were released yesterday… that boy was very much alive."
Madara's eye opened slowly.
"In Iwagakure," the Zetsu said. "Drinking sake."
A pause.
"And today," it added, "he left the village after jailbreaking the previous Tsuchikage's son from prison."
Madara stared ahead.
"A ten-year-old…" he muttered. "Did all that."
When he was ten, he had barely been considered Chūnin material.
"What are they feeding the children in Konoha these days," he murmured.
"And Akagami…" His gaze narrowed. "That's not a notable clan."
His thoughts raced.
How is he alive?
He looked back at the Zetsu. "Why did he jailbreak the Tsuchikage's son?"
"We don't know," the Zetsu admitted.
Madara frowned. "You don't know?"
"I thought you could spy on anything you want."
The Zetsu bowed slightly. "That's actually the most important thing we wanted to report."
Madara listened.
"That child has an extremely high sensory ability," it said. "He avoided us repeatedly. He even sprinted nonstop for hours to escape our detection."
The other Zetsu chimed in. "Then he stopped in a place where we didn't exist at all."
Madara exhaled slowly.
"So that's it."
He leaned back against the throne.
"I really wanted you to bring this child to me," he said. "I wanted to see him myself."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Call Black Zetsu," Madara ordered. "Tell him to report everything he can find about Akagame no Shanks."
The Zetsu bowed. "At once, Madara-sama."
Sunlight.
Waves rolling lazily against white sand.
A hammock swayed gently between two palm trees.
Shanks lay sprawled across it, one arm hanging over the side, sipping from a coconut stuffed with far too much alcohol to be subtle.
"Yeah, man," he sighed. "This life."
He took another sip.
"No one told me the Land of Waterfall was this good this time of year."
Mu-Ji stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"Why are we even here?" he asked. "Everyone's probably hunting us."
Shanks grinned lazily.
"Relax," he said. "Treat this like a vacation before starting our adventure."
He lifted the coconut in salute.
"Just relax," he added. "And order a drink."
Mu-Ji stared at him, unconvinced.
"Fuck it!!", he said as he walked to the bar to order his drink.
" Excuse me can I get whatever he is having"