Eastern Border of Kuoh
A pair of spinning wheels, wider than a man is tall and made of black spiritual flames, closed the distance from Kuroka to Procyon. The eight-winged Fallen Angel, cloak partially torn and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, flew up over the first burning wheel before banking his wings and flipping backwards into a dive, dodging the second. He grimaced and juked to the side as one of his legs got clipped by the first wheel coming back around, ignoring the burning pain as he twisted away.
A circular wave of his arm as he continued evading his pursuers, and a dozen extra-bright Light spears ringed by blue energy around the haft appeared in formation around him.
Kuroka lifted a hand, and a glowing shield in the form of a purple, octagonal magic circle the size of a wall flashed into existence to block the flurry of spears that exploded on contact. As the cacophony and blinding light filled the nekoshou's field of view, Procyon appeared behind her with a blur of speed, his wings spread wide to diffuse his silhouette against the night sky as he slashed a golden sword.
Kuroka didn't react, seeming to not notice the danger. A haze, imperceptible to the normal five senses, hung over the skyward battle.
The Fallen's eyes were narrowed long before he even made contact, already pointing up at the real one with his other hand while his blade sliced through the illusion without resistance. A hundred Light spears appeared all over the sky in a dome around his target and fired within less than a second, twisting and curving widely through the air in complicated paths and directions, honed over his millennia of experience to close off all paths of escape, from all sides. The moment they shot out, another set of a hundred appeared and followed suit, again and again.
It was an attack that, if the opponent wasn't fast enough to simply blitz out of before the net closed, was meant to force them to hunker down under their strongest defenses in order to withstand the constant omni-directional barrage, giving the Fallen control of a fight's tempo by limiting the amount of options and follow up actions available to his opponents.
Kuroka did neither of those things, instead humming thoughtfully as she studied the spears' attack patterns while calmly slipping through impossible gaps to escape certain death, again and again. Even as loose sections of her yukata– meaning just about every section– began receiving tears from all the close calls, she continued looking for all the world as unruffled and unconcerned as ever as she swayed through the air.
Procyon's eyes stared boredly up at her as he swung his greatsword behind him without looking, sweeping through the basic Kasha Wheels and forcefully snuffing out the mystical flames. "Spacial manipulation. You're just as talented as rumors say."
They both understood. She was currently physically faster and stronger than him, but he was much more experienced.. Her true strength lies in her powerful and varied magics, enhanced by the two [Bishop] pieces used to reincarnate her.
"Hm hm hmmm~, so you noticed~!" Kuroka hummed smugly in interest as multiple spears passed through her hair-loops, coming dangerously close to her face. Kuroka watched in intrigue as he lowered his hand and the attacks blinked out, his Light reserves only barely diminished over the course of the fight based on her sense of his aura.
"I predate the very civilization that calls this land home," he scoffed. "I've fought more monstrous beings and dark creatures than all the different faces you've seen in your short life. The Youkai's strange magics are just one example on a long list. Of course I would recognize such a potent ability, especially when you use it to slip through a gap the size of a child's fist."
"On the flipside, I don't recognize you at all." Kuroka taunted slyly, poorly "hiding" her grin behind a curled finger.
It was only true by the strictest interpretation of the words.
A faded picture flashed through her mind, paperclipped to a manila folder. A relatively normal looking man with short hair and a tan, definitely lacking any particularly elfin-looking pointed ears.
'Name: Procyon (Alias). Light: Crimson. Wing-count: 4-pair. Rank: Captain. Hair/eye color: Blond/hazel. Special abilities: N/A. Perfect Control of Holy Power (Trained).'
Last updated, 1942
She had flipped through his Grigori file when hanging around Azazel's place with Vali, but there was basically nothing about a Kokabiel Jr. running around, whether officially on file or in rumors passing through the supernatural criminal world. And yet, he looked almost uncannily similar to his pale, vampire-like boss, despite his file noting completely different features. That wasn't even mentioning the very literal Light of his Holy Power, his soul, being gold now, just like said boss. Nothing about his aura suggested hair dye or unnatural transformation magics, so something fishy was up with the guy.
While his energy levels were still genuinely impressive with how untapped they were, what was diminished was his physical condition.
Already, she could see the slight purple tinge in his otherwise flawlessly pale skin, the way his breath was hitching somewhere deep in his lungs, the slight swelling of the eyelids, and the tiny little rivulet of blood that kept trying to escape his nose. She didn't even need to read his aura to tell how bad it was, but doing so just proved it was even worse than it looked. They had been fighting just a couple minutes at most, and his body was already beginning to slow down, burn out, and fail him.
It would have been a rather pathetic display for an eight-winged angel, even a dedicated spellcaster– IF it was a true representation of his physical ability.
But his aura didn't show any signs of being bothered by his condition at all, beyond a disappointed boredom with the fight as he realized something.
"You're here to stop me from furthering my Lord's goals," Procyon declared with a disdainful glare. He wasn't annoyed by the taunt though. It didn't even phase him in the slightest, she could tell. "The sword of Damocles that Lord Kokabiel has hung in the sky will destroy your current home just as surely as I would."
He was referring to the giant glowing javelin in the sky, aimed at Kuoh's city center.
"So why the hell-" his anger rose as he spoke, "-are you holding back on me, you annoying devil!"
Kuroka tilted her head. Honestly, while a part of her was holding back, it wasn't by nearly as much as she let on. What he didn't know was that she couldn't just use the full power of Senjutsu willy-nilly without any ambient natural chakra to draw on, and the area they were fighting in was tapped dry. She could just force it anyway, steal away the life energy of everything without even the most basic ability to resist her, but that would have… disastrousconsequences for every living thing within a big chunk of town, including herself, just to make the slightest difference.
So she wasn't willing to use more power than she currently had within her own body.
But regardless. While she wasn't necessarily holding anything back, not really, that didn't mean she was taking the fight seriously. She was basically just using this as an opportunity to tune her poison mist against angel biology. She hadn't exactly spent a lot of time fighting strong ones before, after all.
Put simply:
"You'll never be able to beat me with that level, ya knyow? You can't handle my full strength with what you've shown," Kuroka grinned teasingly. If she really tried, it would be over in moments, and then she'd have to sit back and wait for Vali to finish up the main event.
"You have impressive control and instincts, but unfortunately for you, that's just not enough against me, nyahaha~!" Kuroka's bratty smile shifted into a smirk. "The better question is, why are you holding back on me?"
It was just a guess, something she threw out there based on nothing but intuition and the weird discrepancies in his files. Aside from cosmetic appearances, her own senses and the files both agreed, he was nothing more than a fairly high-end eight-winged angel. On the scale of two-to-twelve wings, that was downright tame, barely even Ultimate-class at absolute best.
There was no real reason to suspect anything more from him, because he was already one of the strongest eight-winged Fallen in the Grigori through pure refinement and control of the basics of battle and Holy Power, no esoteric bullshit required or ever hinted at.
Procyon's eyes sharpened regardless.
His aura snapped into absolute focus for a brief moment even as it surged, his skin literally glowing a dim gold for a second as Holy Power flooded his body's contours perfectly.
The glow faded, leaving his face pristine and pale, the exposed skin of his burned calf fully smooth and healthy, and his breathing perfectly clear, the poison erased from within his body.
It was the first time so far his energy reserves notably dipped, she noticed, but even then he still had plenty to spare.
Procyon wiped the leftover blood from his lips and chin with the brush of his thumb.
"The humans' homes are secondary to you," he said, his mind putting the pieces together. "You've been put up to this, not just interfering out of your own initiative. Likely hired by another leader of the Grigori who would prefer us back alive, otherwise someone like you would have wasted no time killing me for intruding on your turf." He scoffed. "Either way, you haven't given me the fight I crave. Your own desire to battle me took a backseat to your mission, so why shouldn't I reciprocate? Every second you waste holding back on me is another second you are not interfering in my Lord's fun, so I achieve my goal either way."
Kuroka had one thing to say to that last bit.
She lifted an eyebrow, smirking. "Are you sure about that nya~?"
They both saw and felt it as an explosion of Holy Power washed over the city miles away, enough power to stand on the same battlefield as Kuroka and not be found wanting.
Still, Kuroka's expression didn't show a hint of wariness in the slightest. Only a curious blink and tilt of the head, her smirk remaining in place as she spied on Kokabiel's aura from miles away like a voyeur.
After all, Vali was watching over that battlefield. He could be a total bastard sometimes when he was full of himself and brooding, but he wasn't an evil bastard. He would step in before things got too dicey for the kiddies.
Procyon tensed despite his leader regaining a significant amount of his power, eyes narrowing into a dead serious glare for the first time that night as he realized she was playing him. He didn't know if she was working with a group, or if he'd been talking to an illusion the past few moments, but he saw that she was unbothered by the wave of gold that blasted their senses.
Kuroka watched as her opponent's aura practically solidified into pure resolve.
His wings flared out as he locked eyes with her, his Light shining to outline his dark figure as his power climbed–
An invisible, fluctuating void carving across the sky; utterly unnatural to reality as she knew it, as it raced towards an identical phenomenon.
Kuroka glanced south-eastward in confusion. 'What is-?'
Kokabiel seemed to notice it too, intending to stop it in its tracks.
It vanished.
Kuroka's eyes widened.
A sonic boom heralded her sudden departure under Procyon's shocked gaze, their battle completely forgotten.
Southern Kuoh, Kuoh Academy
His hand clasped around nothing.
Kokabiel didn't know how it had happened. He felt the killing intent, the naked malice of that distant assassin. He couldn't directly perceive the attack itself, but he was an ancient twelve-winged angel, the fourth of all Fallen. Enemy intent was more than enough to anticipate an attack for the likes of himself.
It almost wasn't enough when the kiss of the blade bit into his throat, arriving from a completely unexpected angle.
"Khh!" The telltale sound of a pained voice hissing through grit teeth.
Kokabiel didn't even notice what had happened until his eyes flicked sideways to the easily recognizable, blood-stained Holy Sword flipping through the air with most of a human boy's arm, amidst a spray of crimson.
His arm was extended, a Light sword raised in the aftermath of an upwards slash.
His body had reacted entirely on its own, millennia of honed battle reflexes skipping the need for his mind's attention to take action.
Just barely escaping his sword's edge now that it was already too late, was the short blond human that seemed to have a hand– however light the touch– in every supernatural event that happened in Kuoh, one of his limbs having been stretched upwards in order to actually reach Kokabiel's neck.
'Even with Transparency, for me to not notice him at all-! That level of compatibility is-!'
Missing his raised right arm from the bicep down, the assassin boy had twisted away just enough to avoid losing his head too, even as he stared up at the Cadre he attempted to kill with determined eyes.
Thump-
The sound of his own blood rushing registered in his inner ear.
Kokabiel took it all in and understood in between instants, time having slowed down in that way a near-death experience always causes.
Impressive.
When was the last time he'd experienced this? Nearly seventy years ago, against that man?
"Youghhk-!" Kokabiel choked, coughing up blood after he failed to take a breath.
His perception returned to normal as he took back control of his body's functions, forcefully clenching the muscles in his neck to stem the flow so he wouldn't drown in his own blood. Relying on instinct and reflex wouldn't carry him any further against an opponent that could conceivably kill him through it, and would just lead to making mistakes he should have avoided. Clear thought and deliberate action were key.
Light spears formed in the sky by the dozens and began raining down in an unrelenting storm of suppressive fire on the shocked and frozen devils.
At the same time, he swung his arm down.
His blade slid into flesh and stopped with a clang, biting into the young man's scapula and metal both.
The teen, seemingly having had his own moment of prescience, had let a silvery-polished knife slip from his sleeve into his left palm, and managed to position it in an awkward guard bracing against the mutilated remains of his bicep just as he began his attack– just in time to not be immediately turned into a corpse, knees buckling under the force of the attack that nearly cut the high-quality dagger in half.
Kokabiel stepped forward and his empty hand swung up, Light flooding out of his palm.
The human was already forcing himself back with a jump, barely reacting with more than a grimace as his shoulder slid away from the sword cutting into him with a squelch. Kokabiel's would-be killer didn't escape unscathed, the second sword forming as it swung to carve a trail of red up from the high schooler's right hip to left shoulder. Instead of being cut in half, he got away with a comparatively shallow gash across his torso, barely deep enough to scrape the bones of his ribs.
"Naruto!" Multiple of the devils called out in worry from behind their hasty magical barriers, finally reacting to the sudden flurry of actions.
That's right, he recalled it now. Uzumaki Naruto. He would have to remember the name of the young warrior.
They both moved.
Kokabiel reshaped one of his swords and thrust his forward, the human doing his absolute best to make the right move to escape– Kokabiel jerked his torso awkwardly as he lunged at the retreating male, unable to risk moving his own neck without making his wound worse.
The spear plunged into the young man's abdomen as it formed in Kokabiel's grasp. The spear pierced his liver and out the other side as his silver knife sliced past Kokabiel's eye, opening a thin red line on his temple and cutting a notch in his pointed ear. His opponent wasn't caught off guard, but alas, he just wasn't fast enough when he twisted. He might have been, if he didn't prioritize taking that one last shot at his enemy.
'Well fought Naruto, Son of Man! It was entertaining!'
The Cadre was grinning widely with blood-stained teeth at the weakly glaring teen, red dripping from the boy's wounds.
Even down an arm and impaled, the blonds trembling body partially held up by the spear through his gut, he just grit his teeth and swung his only remaining fist to the side.
'But it's over now.'
He swung his spear, throwing the dying human away right as the almost imperceptible wire in the boy's grip whipped Excalibur Transparency up at him from the dirt. Kokabiel didn't even need to dodge. Fully calculated and aware of his surroundings, the Holy blade would miss him entirely as he turned away due to the boy's own trajectory throwing it off-course-
The Excalibur sliced up into the air, cutting through more than a dozen of the still-forming Light spears in the sky.
-or so he thought!
Instead, the action created enough of a gap in the barrage for his allies to act.
'Too-clever brat!'
"[WELSH DRAGON OVER BOOSTER]!"
[Boost!][Boost!][Boost!][Boost!][Boost!]
The human's limp and bloody body was caught by the little youkai who frantically jumped in his path, sending them both sliding back until her back tapped softly against the trunk of one of the few remaining trees.
"KOKABIEEEEL!" [Boost!][Boost!][Boost!][Boost!][Boost!]
'Now,' Kokabiel's good mood tempered when the crimson gauntlet of a charging, fully-armored Red Dragon Emperor crashed into his heavy silver wings as he raised them to block, sending the Cadre flying bodily back. His pulse rushed loudly through his veins, his body beginning to react to the lack of air. 'Time to clean up the trash!'
"YOU BASTAAAARD!" The child yelled, his voice heavily modulated by the full-coverage draconic helmet around his head.
Taking the moment of distance so bone-headedly provided by the fledgling dragon, he pulled the second– and last– of his recently black-market-acquired artifacts from his suit pocket. One truly could acquire practically anything in America, no questions asked– provided you had the funds.
Kokabiel broke the seal on the delicate vial of golden liquid and swallowed its contents in one gulp, alongside the accumulated mouthful of his own blood. His throat, shoulder, cheek, and ear visibly steamed with warmth as the divine nectar sealed his wounds, the rest of his few remaining aches and scratches disappearing without a trace as it revitalized his body and refilled his stamina and Holy Power.
Even his wing stumps were feeling rejuvenated, the constant phantom aches receding.
He swallowed again, draining the remaining build up of blood, and inhaled deeply, before letting loose.
"KHAHAHAHAHA!"
He cackled as he unfurled his wings and reversed his momentum, launching himself forward towards the Red Dragon Emperor that was chasing him.
Their knuckles slammed against each other's, the clash of their fists blowing his long hair back. They traded dozens of blows in a second as they flew higher and higher, punch for punch, kick for kick, the collisions sending shockwaves through the sky as his body and mind both were truly capable of letting loose for the first time in recent memory.
He felt better than he had in years!
Regaining a portion of the power he lost to that monster Strada was one thing– a feeling that he savored the same way a man on the verge of dehydration savored a precious sip of life-giving water– but it wasn't enough on its own, leaving him hungry for more, for all of it. The true treat was the reminder.
You don't need to be Vasco-fucking-Strada to kill a monster!
Power to rival a monster like Sirzechs? It would help. It would help immensely.
'But–'
Kokabiel remembered.
[Light itself, dimmed. The very laws that held reality together shifted– fractured and broken– as The Creator and Father was brought to His knees.]
'–Even God himself was felled by His lessers in a single moment of weakness!'
Kokabiel didn't need to be stronger than the enemy's true monsters to solidify his faction's place at the top.
He just needed to kill them, without being killed in turn.
Nothing was invincible. Anyone could be made weak with proper circumstances and planning.
"Uzumaki Naruto!" He shouted. "You may die with pride knowing that a measly human such as you, through your own efforts and struggle, was able to teach the Star of God a lesson I had forgotten! One that an absurd existence the likes of Vasco Strada could never have!"
Kokabiel's grin widened as he batted a telegraphed fist across Issei's chest with a wing, twisting the glaring amateur around enough to expose part of his back and his side entirely. Kokabiel used the opening to flip around into a kick that crashed into the boy's neck and shoulder, sending the armored child crashing down into the Gremory's little hideout with a boom.
The three female devils had split up while he'd been distracted trading blows with the boy, the Gremory heiress racing into the building through a broken-down wall, while Baraqiel's spawn had recklessly rushed over to join the youkai at Uzumaki Naruto's side– likely in an attempt to heal him– with the Sitri heiress close behind to watch her back.
Kokabiel was in such good spirits now, even battling such an uninteresting, Sacred Gear reliant opponent wasn't enough to kill his mood. At the same time though, he'd had his fill of this performance. Indulging any further would just be a drain on his satisfaction and risk going over his safe deadline.
He lifted his hands, and a pair of javelins formed above him, identical to the giant one in the sky, if significantly smaller in scale.
Instead of being the size of an airliner, they were simply the length of a small bus each, humming with power.
Plenty enough to wipe an entire district off the map on their own.
[Boost!]
"I'M NOT DONE WITH YOU, PRICK!"
The host of Ddraig burst out of the old school building to fly at Kokabiel with immense speed. Part of his shoulder pauldron was cracked, but his aura of power doubled to new heights in size and intensity once more, before compressing down into his reared-back fist to a level that would be dangerous even to the twelve-winged Fallen.
Kokabiel quickly launched himself up and back, but the boy continued rapidly gaining on him.
The Fallen grinned.
"Sekiryuutei! The choice is yours!" He flung his arms down, and the javelins flew. The teen didn't flinch as the projectiles flew towards him, preparing to punch straight through-
"Will you try to kill me?!" Kokabiel yelled in sadistic-yet-tactical glee. "Or will you save your friends?!"
-But they shot past him, altering their trajectories just enough at the last moment.
"Will you save your master and allow your fellows to die, or is 'just a handful' truly enough for you to protect?!"
The javelins careened down, one towards the old school building, and the other towards the group beneath the tree.
"Shit!"
Issei's draconic wings spread to halt him as he spun around, his suit's armored tail flicking out agitatedly. The desperate pervert raced headfirst after the spear shooting towards the ORC, a sonic boom cracking in his wake.
"Buchou, Prez! I'll definitely save both of your oppai, and everyone else too!"
He twisted his head as he nearly caught up, shunting a ton of power to a palm he raised towards the second spear he was tracking.
Kokabiel was already raising his hand up for his finisher, the gigantic spear in the sky angling towards the school.
Within a split second, Issei had interposed himself between the first projectile and the building, grabbing it with one hand as it pushed him back, a [Dragon Shot] in the other primed and ready to blow away the second threat to the others. He just needed to aim it perfectly, to not hurt the others himself!
'Almost-!' Kokabiel waited with baited breath, seeking the moment when the boy was at his most vulnerable in order to overwhelm him all at once.
The distant target raced straight for Sona, just a couple dozen meters from her when Issei was about to take the shot. The spectacled girl had just finally finished reacting to the threat, throwing up a hasty barrier that wouldn't be nearly enough to withstand the blast.
The [Dragon Shot] glowed bright emerald as Issei cocked his fist back–
Koneko
(Moments earlier)
"Naruto-kun!"
Red fills my vision.
"Naruto-kun!" I can't help but frantically call his name again as I set him against the tree. His head had snapped back and smacked into my forehead when I caught him, so his eyes were unfocused and rolling from the impact as I pressed my hands to his body to put pressure on his injuries.
"K-Koneko-chan… s-sorry you have to s-see me like this, heh…" Naruto smiled weakly up at me for once, before hacking up blood with a wheezing cough.
"Idiot!" I hissed, hackles raised. "Don't talk right now, save your strength!"
"Y-yes m-ma'am…"
His stomach and torso. His shoulder and lips. His arm.
Red pours like a faucet.
Soft tissue in tatters. Fibrous muscle and solid bone severed. A punctured lung filling with fluid. Arteries and capillaries trying to feed precious life to places they've been severed from, an arm that's no longer there.
I'm flooding his body with my chakra, as much as his fragile network can handle; as much as I can handle without killing him. The only bright side is that, as a human, the Holy Light slipped out of Naruto's wounds like water instead of seeping in like a poison the way it would with a devil. It's a matter of a fraction of a second to attune myself to the crimson power that consistently pulses through his body, becoming the buffer for the vital energy like I always do.
Not good enough…
I did my best trying to contain the flood escaping his body, but the fist-sized hole in his torso where the spear punched through… I'm not a surgeon. I can supercharge the healing process, but the liver is almost like a sponge for blood, and I have no idea how to slow the bleeding for something like that when adding pressure would just squeeze more out of the delicate organ.
My hands shook and my pulse pounded in my ear as the same helpless fear I felt yesterday began to creep in– the feeling of holding Xenovia's dying body and being unable to stop it.
'None of us would've had to go through this, he– he wouldn't be… all these fucking Fallen should just d-!'
"Here, I can help!"
I jolt when Akeno's Demonic Power suffuses Naruto's wounds, sucking in a gasp of air as I remember to breathe.
Her healing is stronger than mine, but it drains vitality to force cells to replicate like that; the stockpile of lifeforce his mysterious benefactor had gifted him, which was already being burned through rapidly as his body fought to survive. Unlike most people, his body isn't generating any of it on its own to offset costs like that, so it's a race against time where the faster she works the faster the his clock ticks down; if she draws too deeply for too long, it wouldn't even matter if we healed his wounds in the end, his body would just give out.
Kokabiel's fault…
While I used the fine manipulation of my chakra to pinch off the blood vessels in what was left of his right arm, held severed bone against bone to begin reconnecting his shoulder, and pressed shut the long slash across his torso as I promoted healing, Akeno focused entirely on the most important and time-sensitive task; trying to regenerate the worst of the damage to his organs.
It's just too slow-going.
Working together, we managed to slow the bleeding significantly, but he'd already lost so much.
The red liquid just wouldn't stop spreading across Naruto's shirt, won't stop draining out of his torso, even as we do our best to stem the flow.
At the rate we were going, he wouldn't make it.
There's only one thing left I can think of, one last hail mary ability I can use. If I mess up, if I make a mistake, I might as well stab him in the heart myself for all the good it would do… but then again, not trying it would be the same as just letting him die anyway.
It's all Kokabiel's fault…
Earlier, Naruto told me that if I think someone is about to die, don't hesitate to use my senjutsu. He meant in battle, to fight with my full power, but his attempt on Kokabiel's life came out of nowhere and ended too quickly for me to react.
It's all his fault! His! All because of him, him, HIM!
I'm getting lightheaded. 'I can't breathe-'
No, I'm breathing too much, panic and fear and hatred forcing my breaths out in short and quick gasps as all I can see is red, red, blood.
He needs to pay!
He needs to suffer!
Make him disappear!
Rip, tear, shred, KILL him!
Akeno all but shouts something at me in a panicked plea, but I can't hear it. There are too many sounds rushing through my ears, too many thoughts running through my head to pay attention to anything.
Erase everything that hurts…
I didn't trust my skill and instinct with senjutsu healing enough to completely give myself over to my power for it… but there was something else, another ability I've practiced more than anything else, that the full power of senjutsu could push beyond all my usual limits. I was even using it right now already.
I know what I need to do, but I'm paralyzed. I already feel like I'm losing control of just this much, so how could I possibly trust myself not to-
DESTROY IT ALL-!
A hand settles on my head between my ears, and glassy blue eyes pierce through the mental haze to meet my own. Naruto's face is as pale as my skin as he grins weakly at me with bloody lips.
He mouths the words that push me over the edge.
'I believe in you.'
Believe in the me who believes in you!
Every chakra network unique to Naruto's people has a core section where all chakra is generated, and eight "inner gates"– naturally occurring metaphysical structures that restrict the flow of chakra for safety, the same way the mind restricts your full strength to prevent excessive muscle tearing. These gates appear where chakra coils converge, letting only a fraction of the total power through, building up tertiary reservoirs in the process like a dam. According to him, some people can open these gates with enough training, giving them major but temporary boosts in power and output at the cost of severe strain and damage, or even death.
Naruto has a ninth gate.
In better condition than the other gates, too. Too artificial, too perfect, too purpose-built for someone in his condition.
And it's right where his core should be.
Just as I suspected, for just a fraction of a fraction of a second– too fast for the me of the past to perceive– I just barely notice it flicker open for a single moment. Out comes the expected wave of crimson Yang energy, right on pace with all the other pulses, revitalizing cells and attempting to heal the pieced-together chakra coils closest to the core even as it burns them in its intensity.
The air is thick with natural energy, more than I could hope to use for any delicate or complicated process like healing or precision combat. Kurama is the reason all this energy is gathered here. Kurama's own power is able heal Naruto, but he can't do that without killing him in the process–
My chakra inside Naruto settles, cradling and encasing his fragile network, holding it in position.
–So I'll be the bridge.
I ignore Akeno's shocked panic as I shove her away from Naruto, tossing her a hopefully-safe distance from me and what I'm about to do.
I don't think. I can't afford to. I'm just an instrument with a single purpose now. All that power in the air, that energy that screams dark thoughts in my mind, I take it all for myself, and without hesitation, with an incorruptible single-mindedness that cuts past all the intruding thoughts in my head through sheer intent, the moment the gate next opens…
… I thrust down into that single point.
Red fills my vision.