The air in the Frost Sanctum didn't swirl; it evacuated.
A massive, circular aperture in the fortress roof spiraled open, revealing the indigo void of the polar night. The wind howled down into the chamber, carrying the scent of raw ozone and distant snow.
Dotō Kazahana didn't jump; he launched.
The flight stabilizers on his back—a series of interlocking metal slats resembling insect wings—snapped open with a violent clack-hiss. The turbine on his back whined, spooling up to a pitch that made Naruto's teeth ache. With a blast of superheated exhaust that scorched the dais, the tyrant shot upward into the sky, carrying Koyuki with him like a ragdoll.
Naruto was dragged along, the wire rope attached to the kunai in Dotō's boot pulling him taut. He was yanked off the floor, swinging wildly as they ascended through the roof and into the freezing darkness.
"Wait! COME BACK!" Naruto screamed, the wind tearing the words from his mouth.
Dotō looked down. His face, illuminated by the pulsing blue glow of his breastplate, was a mask of bored efficiency.
"Now," Dotō's voice boomed over the wind, "about our dead weight."
He produced a small, heated blade from his gauntlet.
ZZZT.
He slashed the wire.
Gravity reclaimed Naruto instantly.
"NARUTO!" Koyuki's scream was thin and terrified, fading rapidly as she was carried higher toward the Rainbow Glaciers.
Naruto fell.
The fortress was built into the side of the mountain, hanging over a sheer drop that led down into the dense pine forests of the valley floor. He plummeted past the stone walls, past the venting steam pipes, and into the black void.
Think. Think!
He flailed, trying to orient himself. The wind roared in his ears, a deafening pressure. Below, the jagged teeth of the pine forest rushed up to meet him.
CRACK.
He hit the first branch. It shattered against his shoulder, spinning him around.
SNAP. WHIP.
He crashed through the canopy. Branches whipped at his face, tearing his orange jumpsuit and scoring his skin. He tucked his chin to his chest, shielding his head, bouncing from limb to limb in a chaotic, bruising pinball descent. The smell of crushed pine needles and sticky sap filled his nose, replacing the metallic stench of the fortress.
THUD.
He hit a snowbank at the base of a massive tree. The powder exploded around him, burying him in a suffocating cold silence.
For a long moment, there was no sound.
The industrial horror of Dotō's machine—the hissing pistons, the grinding gears, the screaming turbines—was gone. There was only the heavy, muffled silence of the winter forest. The wind whispered through the high branches. A clump of snow fell from a bough with a soft plop.
Naruto lay there, staring up at the sliver of night sky visible through the trees. His body felt like one giant bruise. The gear-device on his stomach was dormant for the moment, but the area around it burned with a phantom heat.
"Damn it..."
He groaned, rolling onto his side. He coughed, spitting out a mouthful of metallic-tasting blood and snow.
He forced his hands into the powder and pushed. His muscles screamed in protest, but a surge of hot, feral energy bubbled up from his gut—the fox's chakra, knitting bone and muscle with agonizing speed.
"I'm... not... giving up..."
He staggered to his feet, swaying like a drunkard. He looked up at the mountain. He could see the faint blue trail of Dotō's exhaust arcing toward the distant peaks.
He started to walk. His right leg dragged slightly, but he forced it to work.
"You can fly..." Naruto growled, his breath pluming in the dark. "You can run..."
He broke into a jog. The jog turned into a run. He ignored the pain in his ribs.
"BUT YOU WILL NEVER HID—"
Vrrrrrrrrr-put-put-put.
A distinct, rhythmic engine noise cut through the silence. It wasn't the heavy industrial roar of the Snow train; it was a lighter, frantic buzzing.
Naruto skidded to a halt as a small, customized snowmobile burst through a thicket of bushes, kicking up a rooster tail of slush. It drifted sideways, coming to a stop inches from his toes.
It was a clown car of a rescue team.
Makino was driving, his goggles pulled down over his eyes, grinning like a maniac. Yomu was clinging to the back. Squeezed into the sidecar and clinging to the frame were the remnants of the film crew, along with Neji, Tenten, and Sylvie.
"Hop on, kid," Makino shouted over the engine's idle.
Naruto blinked, his brain unable to process the transition from 'death-fall' to 'logistical support.' "Wha-what?! How did you find me?! I fell halfway down a mountain!"
Yomu leaned forward. He lifted his hand to his face, framing Naruto between his thumb and forefinger.
Zrrrt-click.
Naruto watched, stunned, as Yomu's pupils physically dilated and contracted with the mechanical precision of a camera shutter. The iris spiraled in and out, focusing instantly.
"Tracking shots," Yomu said, tapping his temple. "Dojutsu of the Cinematic Arts. I never lose a subject once they're in frame."
Makino smirked, revving the engine. "We gotta keep an eye on our star. The third act is waiting!"
Naruto shook his head, his jaw dropping. "Wha-whwwhat!??!"
"Just get on, kid!" Yomu yelled, extending a hand to haul him onto the crowded chassis. "We got a movie to finish!"