Under the leadership of the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, efficiency had been hard-coded into the village's supreme directive. To repair the collective morale that had glitched out following the Sandaime's disappearance and the subsequent high-voltage assault by the Cloud, Rasa authorized a massive batch of field promotions. It was a strategic "System Patch", a way to reward the active processes that had kept the village from a total crash during the coastal breach.
The ceremony was held in the central plaza, directly beneath the shadow of the Kazekage Building. The sun was at peak thermal output, turning the sandstone ground into a heat-sink that radiated back up at our boots. The air was thick with the scent of hot sand, sweat, and a brittle sense of anticipation. Hundreds of shinobi, from fresh Academy graduates to scarred veterans stood in formation, their eyes fixed on the high platform.
An Anbu Jonin, acting with the robotic precision of a system-log reader, unfurled a scroll and began reciting the "Change Logs" of our military performance during the recent conflict.
"...Genin Shiori, for exceptional sensory containment and tactical relay during the Southeast Defense, awarded one commendation."
Beside me, Shiori let out a shaky breath, her fingers clutching the hem of her sleeve. I could see her "battery" was finally starting to recharge after the trauma of the war. She looked at me, a tiny, genuine smile breaking through her fatigue.
"...Genin Lucado, for high-density defensive utility and squad protection in the Land of Rivers, awarded one commendation."
Lucado gave a sharp, professional nod. His usual "clan-kid" ego had been reformatted by the reality of the AB Combination's power; he was no longer looking for glory, just for a system that worked.
I stood quietly in the ranks, my mind running a diagnostic on the current village hierarchy. I didn't care about the title for the ego boost or the social standing; to me, a rank was simply an "Administrative Key." In Suna's military architecture, a Chunin had significantly higher clearance levels for resource acquisition and way more autonomy in mission selection. If I wanted to build the Mirage prototype, I needed access to the "Restricted Logistics" sub-directory, high-frequency magnetic ores and advanced sealing-inks that weren't available to Genin.
Finally, the Anbu's voice hit my frequency.
"...Genin Sayo. For high-efficiency reconnaissance and tactical support using proprietary puppet units; for the independent neutralization of two Kumogakure Chunin during the Southeast Defense; and for providing critical battlefield telemetry that saved a Special Jonin-led squad. Overall Assessment: Exceptional merit. Promotion to Chunin: Approved."
A ripple of low-frequency whispers went through the crowd. Many of the older Genin cast envious or admiring gazes toward me. To them, I was the "Factory Kid", the frail brat from the Maintenance Wing who had somehow unlocked a high-level combat build. They saw a prodigy; I just saw a developer who had optimized his hardware.
"Sayo! You actually did it!" Shiori whispered, her eyes shining. She looked happier for my promotion than she did for her own commendation.
Captain Iryō was standing a short distance away, a rare, professional smile visible on his face. He'd been the "Beta Tester" for my Spiders in the field; he knew that my tactical output had long since surpassed the Genin bracket.
After the ceremony concluded, I was heading back toward the residential sector when a member of the Puppet Brigade intercepted me. "Chunin Sayo. Lady Chiyo requests a meeting at her private residence. Top priority."
I found Chiyo in her workshop, a cavernous room filled with the skeletons of dismantled puppets and the sharp smell of pine resin. She was hunched over a workbench, her hands steady but her eyes looking elsewhere. When she saw me in the charcoal-gray Chunin vest, a complex wave of emotion crossed her face, a mix of pride, grief, and a terrifying kind of foresight.
"Elder Chiyo," I said, offering a respectful bow.
"You're a Chunin now," she said, her voice carrying a heavy resonance that filled the room. "Congratulations, Sayo. Your father told me you've been spending every night in your workshop."
I could feel the "lag" in her tone. I knew what she was seeing when she looked at me. To her, every talented young puppeteer was a ghost of Sasori, the grandson she had lost to the "Dark OS" of his own genius. The investigation logs into the Third Kazekage's disappearance had found traces of puppet-wire precision that only a few people in the world could achieve. I could see the suspicion coiling in her eyes like a viper; she was terrified that I would be the next "Legacy Bug" to betray the village.
"Promotion to Chunin is more than just a higher credit stipend," she continued, her voice turning cold and serious. "The war is only in its initialization phase. Do not let your talent lead you down a... dark path. The pursuit of 'perfection' can corrupt the core logic of a shinobi. Stay focused on the village, Sayo."
It was a warning, a "security alert" meant to keep me from becoming the next Sasori. I met her gaze with my own, keeping my expression flat and analytical. "I understand, Elder. My project is for the future of the Sand."
She sighed, a long, weary sound, and waved me away.
I left her workshop and met Team Iryō outside. Shiori was practically vibrating with joy, and even the taciturn Lucado gave me a firm "Well done." They saw the vest as a sign of safety; I saw it as the clearance I needed to start "Phase 2."
When I got home, my dad, Sharyu, had prepared a simple meal. He was still wearing his flak jacket, having just returned from a logistics run to the northern border. He looked at me in the vest, and for a second, I saw his eyes go wet. He remembered the kid who couldn't walk ten feet without coughing; he remembered the baby Chiyo had called "weak."
"Your mother... she would have been proud," he said, his voice catching as he patted my shoulder. "You've grown into a fine shinobi, Sayo. A Chunin of the Sand."
I felt a rare pang of warmth in my chest. To Sharyu, this was a emotional milestone. To me, it was proof that the "Body Tempering Furnace" had successfully re-written my biological code.
That night, I sat alone at my workbench. My Chunin certificate was on the left; the Mirage blueprints were spread open on the right.
With my new rank, I had already submitted a requisition for "Star-Iron" alloys and high-purity conductor fluids. The "Mirage" was no longer just a "concept car" in my mind. It was moving into the hardware phase.
"Rank: Chunin. Administrative Rights: Granted," I whispered to the dark room.
I touched the streamlined outline of the Mag-Lev platform. The Third Great Ninja War was raging across the continent, and Suna was struggling to keep its systems online. But as I looked at the blueprints, I knew that I was finally the one writing the rules for the next encounter.
The era of the "Great Spider" was over. The era of the flyer was about to begin.