Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha POV –
The stone hall of the Samurai citadel still hummed with the weight of what had just been decided. The air, once thick with tension and accusation, now held the sharper, colder charge of commitment. The Five Kage—no, the Four Kage and one former Hokage acting as regent—had just agreed to a coalition. A temporary, fragile alliance born not of trust, but of the chilling, universal arithmetic of survival.
I stood beside Raikage A, my senses extended through a subtle, passive filter of my Sharingan. I wasn't reading chakra—not overtly. I was reading the room. The micro-expressions, the tension in shoulders, the flicker in eyes. Tsunade's jaw was set, a commander's resolve overlaying a healer's deep-seated fury. Gaara's calm was unnerving, the sand in his gourd perfectly still, but his eyes held the focus of a soldier who has just been shown the map of his own extermination. Onoki floated, a paradox of weary age and sharp, calculating intellect. Mei Terumi's posture spoke of cautious relief—a shared threat was, in a twisted way, simpler than navigating the mist of Kiri's internal reforms alone.
And Hiruzen… he looked emptied. The confession, the surrender, the stripping of Danzo… it had poured out a lifetime of guilty compromise. What was left was a hollow shell being filled with a singular, desperate purpose: atonement through survival.
Mifune's voice, stern and final, cut through my observations.
Mifune: "Then it is settled. The Samurai of Iron will serve as the neutral conduit for all non-urgent communications between the villages regarding this shared threat. Encrypted channels, to be established within the week. This council is adjourned."
There was no ceremony. The Kage nodded to one another, a collection of grim, understanding nods—the acknowledgment of fellow captains realizing their ships are all in the same hurricane. They began to file out, their aides and guards falling into step.
Raikage A turned to me, his voice a low rumble meant only for my ears.
Raikage A: "Well, kid. We just changed the world. Again. Let's go make sure our Daimyo hasn't bored himself to death."
As we moved to leave, I felt a gaze. Sharp, analytical, and utterly devoid of human warmth. I turned my head just enough. Orochimaru, standing slightly apart from the Konoha contingent as the "Kage" of Otogakure, offered a thin, serpentine smile. His golden eyes held a spark of pure, undiluted interest. He gave a slight, mocking incline of his head before melting back into the shadow of a column. A reminder. Not all players on the board were part of the new coalition.
We found Lightning Daimyo Enmaru Saito in a luxurious antechamber provided by the Samurai. He was sipping tea, looking utterly at ease, but his eyes were the eyes of a hawk that had just watched a fascinating hunt.
With him were the Fire Daimyo, Lord Enjou, and the Earth Daimyo, a stout, stern man named Lord Goro. The Wind Daimyo had already left in a sulk, his budget woes evidently more pressing than apocalyptic threats. The Water Daimyo had sent an observer, who lingered quietly in the corner.
Lightning Daimyo Enmaru: "Ah, Raikage! Indra! Come, join us. We were just discussing the marvels of modern transportation."
His tone was light, but his eyes flicked to the Fire Daimyo. This was a play.
We took seats. The Fire Daimyo, Lord Enjou, looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. His lavish robes seemed to weigh on him.
Fire Daimyo Enjou: "Yes. These… vehicles of yours. The Raijin. Remarkable silent. Powerful. A king should not have to rely on horses or palanquins slow enough for any peasant to throw a rock at."
Earth Daimyo Goro: "Hmph. A metal box. Seems fragile. My lands are mountains and rockfalls."
Indra: "The *Raijin-1*'s chassis is a synthesized alloy I call 'Storm-Steel.' It has a tensile strength twelve times that of the best forged plate armor. Its suspension is chakra-reactive, allowing it to traverse terrain that would shatter a wagon. It is sealed against gas, water, and can withstand sustained small-arms fire or a direct hit from a B-rank earth-style technique without compromising the cabin."
I kept my tone factual, technical. This wasn't bragging. It was a sales pitch to the most powerful buyers in the world.
Earth Daimyo Goro: "...Twelve times, you say? And it moves without beasts?"
Raikage A: "Runs on standardized chakra batteries. A team of three Genin could recharge a cell in an hour. No fodder, no waste, constant readiness."
Lord Enjou leaned forward, his avarice barely masked by feigned casualness.
Fire Daimyo Enjou: "Such a vehicle… it would be a symbol. Of a nation's progress. Of its leader's… security. The Land of Fire is the heart of civilization. It should not be seen lagging behind."
He let the statement hang.
Lightning Daimyo Enmaru: (A knowing smile) "My dear Lord Enjou, are you inquiring after a trade agreement? Indra's inventions are a treasure of the Land of Lightning."
Indra: "They can be a product of it as well."
All eyes locked on me. The Raikage raised an eyebrow but gave a slight nod. We'd discussed this possibility.
Indra: "Kumogakure, with the Daimyo's blessing, could establish a limited-production workshop. The *Raijin-1* is a prototype. A production model, the Raijin-Sovereign, could be crafted for allied nations."
Fire Daimyo Enjou: "At what cost?"
Indra: "The cost is not solely in ryo. It is in materials and political capital. The core chakra reactor requires rare earth minerals found primarily in the Land of Earth and Lightning. The seal-scripting for the inertial dampeners and environmental seals is a proprietary Kumogakure technique."
I looked at Lord Goro.
Indra: "A tripartite agreement. The Land of Earth provides raw materials—a guaranteed purchase at premium prices, boosting your mining sector. The Land of Fire provides a market and sophisticated manufacturing facilities for non-classified components, stimulating your craftsman guilds. The Land of Lightning provides the core technology, final assembly, and security integration."
Earth Daimyo Goro: "You want us to mine for you?"
Indra: "I want to create an interdependent economic loop. Lightning provides the brain, Earth the bone, Fire the muscle. Each nation profits. Each becomes invested in the others' stability. It is harder to plot war against a partner whose economy feeds your own treasury."
The silence was profound. This was bigger than cars. This was geopolitics reshaped as supply-chain management.
Lightning Daimyo Enmaru: (Eyes gleaming) "A fascinating proposal. Turning swords into… assembly lines. I would, of course, require the first production model for my own personal security detail."
Fire Daimyo Enjou: "And I would require one for myself and my immediate heirs. As a symbol of our… new understanding."
Earth Daimyo Goro: "The mineral rights agreement would need to be substantial. And a discount on the final vehicle."
Indra: "All terms are negotiable. My Head of Logistics, Sirzechs Uzumaki, can meet with your treasurers tomorrow to draft preliminary frameworks."
The meeting shifted into a buzz of specifics—tonnage, delivery schedules, security protocols for the transfer of sealed components. I let the Daimyos and their aides hash it out, my mind already compartmentalizing. The Raijin was a tool, a carrot. The stick was the Akatsuki, and that conversation was for a more private room.
An hour later, the Daimyos departed, a new, calculating energy in their steps. The Raikage clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.
Raikage A: "You just sold a dream and made them think it was their idea. Again. Come. The real briefing."
We moved to a secure chamber within the Samurai compound, one swept for seals and eavesdroppers. Only the Lightning Daimyo, the Raikage, Darui, and myself were present.
Raikage A: "My lord. The coalition is formed. But the threat is more immediate and personal than the general statement conveyed."
I took over, activating a small holographic projector from my wrist-seal. A rotating symbol of the Akatsuki cloud appeared.
Indra: "The organization known as Akatsuki. Their leader is a man called Pain, wielder of the Rinnegan. His second is the man who attacked my home: Obito Uchiha. Their goal is the capture of all nine Tailed Beasts."
I detailed the known members, their abilities, the theory of the Ten-Tails. The Daimyo's face grew paler with each point.
Lightning Daimyo Enmaru: "The Eight-Tails… the Two-Tails… they are targets."
Raikage A: "They are. And you, my lord, are the ruler of the nation that houses them. You are also the patron of the genius they see as their greatest obstacle. That makes you a target for manipulation, coercion, or outright attack."
Indra: "Effective immediately, your security is being elevated to wartime status. For the journey back to the Land of Lightning, you will travel in the *Raijin-1* with a three-layered escort. Samui, Karui, and Omoi will be your inner guard, operating from a second Raijin. They are familiar with the vehicle's systems and are among our most tactically versatile Jonin. A team of three Elite Jonin, specialists in barrier and counter-ambush tactics, will provide perimeter security via high-speed glider support."
I brought up a map, highlighting the route.
Indra: "Once we reach Kumo, your security will be integrated into Project Thunderhead. The Eagle Clan will provide continuous aerial overwatch of your palace and major travel routes. Emotion-sensor nodes will be discreetly installed in and around your estate. A dedicated response team, on permanent standby, will be linked directly to your guard captain. Furthermore, we will extend the same protection to your immediate family and key government officials."
The Daimyo was silent for a long moment, staring at the holographic plans. He wasn't a shinobi, but he was a ruler. He understood the language of threat and protection.
Lightning Daimyo Enmaru: "You are turning my palace into a fortress, Indra."
Indra: "No, my lord. I am turning it into a visibly untouchable node within a larger, reactive fortress. The goal is not to hide you behind walls, but to make the very idea of targeting you so statistically suicidal that no sane enemy will attempt it. Deterrence through overwhelming defensive certainty."
A slow smile spread across his face, erasing the fear, replacing it with a fierce, proud light.
Lightning Daimyo Enmaru: "Just as you have done for the village. You extend the umbrella of the storm over my house. I accept. With gratitude. Do what you must."
Raikage A: "We'll head out at first light. Get some rest, Lord Daimyo. The ride back will be smooth, but the days ahead will not be."
The formalities in Iron were done. But Konoha held two pieces of my heart's ledger that needed settling before I could leave this land of ghosts and fire.
I found him at the Uchiha compound. Not training, not brooding by the graves. He was standing in the central courtyard, looking at the empty stone lanterns as the late afternoon sun cast long, lonely shadows. Sasuke Uchiha. My cousin in blood, a stranger in experience, and a living testament to the crime I had just helped condemn.
He sensed me, of course. His Sharingan wasn't active, but his tension was a palpable thing.
Sasuke: "Here to gloat? To show the clan failure what the clan success looks like?"
His voice was flat, the anger buried under layers of icy control. But I could hear the fracture beneath.
Indra: "No. I'm here to say goodbye. And to give you something."
I walked forward, stopping a few paces away. I held out a sealed scroll, smaller than my hand, the wax imprinted with a simple, personal seal—a stylized combination of a sharingan tomoe and an Uzumaki spiral.
Indra: "This is not a technique. It is a letter. From me to you. Do not open it here. Do not open it until you are alone, in a place you are certain is secure from all observation—Byakugan, sensory ninjutsu, everything. Wait until after we have left Konoha's borders."
He stared at the scroll as if it were a live serpent.
Sasuke: "What is in it? More truths? I've had enough truths to drown in."
Indra: "This is the one truth that matters, Sasuke. The one that was kept from you not to protect you, but to use you. It contains the name of the man who truly orchestrated the massacre. Not just the 'why' of the clan's pressure, but the 'who' of its final trigger. And it contains my assessment of the man who pulled that trigger, and why."
His hand trembled slightly as he took the scroll. His Sharingan whirled to life, two tomoe spinning.
Sasuke: "Itachi…"
Indra: "Read the letter. Then decide what you want. Vengeance is a path. So is justice. They are not always the same road. Your brother walks a path of monstrous atonement for a sin that was not his alone. You have a choice now. To continue being a weapon aimed by dead men's lies… or to become something else. An Uchiha who defines his own legacy."
I met his glowing red eyes. I did not look away from the pain, the confusion, the simmering rage.
Indra: "You have power, Sasuke. Great power. But power without a true purpose is just a louder kind of noise. Find your purpose. Not the one they gave you. Your own."
I placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched but didn't pull away.
Indra: "You are not alone in bearing that name. Not anymore. When you are ready, when you know what you want to do… send a message. To Kumo. I will hear it."
I turned to leave.
Sasuke: "Indra."
I stopped.
Sasuke: (His voice was low, rough) "My father… Fujian. What was he like?"
I looked back at the lonely boy in the empty courtyard, clutching the scroll that held his world's detonator.
Indra: "He was stern. He believed in duty, in the law. He was proud of the police force. But when he smiled… it was rare, but it was real. He taught me that shurikenjutsu was about angles and physics, not just throwing hard. He loved my mother enough to send us away to save us. He died because he was a good man in a system that had rotted from the inside. Remember that. He wasn't a rebel. He was a protector who saw the collapse coming. Remember him as that."
I saw the first crack in the ice. A single, traitorous tear tracked down his cheek before he brutally wiped it away. He gave a sharp, almost imperceptible nod.
I left him there, with his ghosts and the scroll that would either shatter him or give him the pieces to rebuild.
The other goodbye was louder, warmer, and smelled of barbecue.
We'd arranged it at a private terrace of one of Konoha's better restaurants. Naruto was there, a ball of barely-contained energy, his eyes wide as Rias's family descended upon him with the gentle, overwhelming warmth of a tidal wave.
Venelana Uzumaki immediately pulled him into a hug that made his eyes bug out.
Venelana: "Let me look at you! Oh, Kushina's boy! You have her smile! And the whiskers! So cute!"
Naruto: "Uh… thanks, oba-chan? Whoa!"
Sirzechs, ever the diplomat, shook his hand with a firm, respectful grip.
Sirzechs: "Naruto Uzumaki. An honor. Your mother was a force of nature. Your father was a visionary. You have quite the legacy to live up to. And from what I hear, you're well on your way."
Zeoticus simply placed a massive platter of premium beef and pork on the grill, giving Naruto a firm nod.
Zeoticus: "Eat. Growing boy needs meat. Uzumaki vitality needs fuel."
Rias sat beside me, a soft smile on her face as she watched her family adopt the orphaned boy. I saw the moment Naruto's initial shock melted into a hesitant, then radiant, joy. This wasn't pity. This was claiming. He was being told, through action and food and loud conversation, that he belonged to something bigger than his lonely apartment.
The meal was chaos—good chaos. Stories of Uzushio (carefully edited), jokes, Rias teasing Naruto about his ramen obsession, Zeoticus grilling meat with the focus of a master strategist.
As the feast wound down, Venelana reached into a sealed pouch. She pulled out a small, leather-bound album and handed it to Naruto.
Venelana: "These… these were among the things we managed to save. Copies. I thought… you should have them."
Naruto opened it with reverent, slightly greasy fingers. The first page was a photo of a young, vibrant, crimson-haired Kushina Uzumaki, making a fierce face at the camera, her hair seeming to defy gravity. Naruto's breath hitched.
Naruto: "That's… my mom?"
Venelana: (Her voice soft) "That's Kushina. Age fourteen. She'd just won an eating contest against three grown men. She had a laugh that could shake leaves from trees."
Page after page. Kushina as a child in Uzushio. Kushina with a younger, serious-looking Mikoto Uchiha. Kushina, older, standing beside a smiling Minato, a hand on her slightly rounded belly—a picture Naruto had never seen. He traced the image with a finger, his eyes shimmering.
Naruto: "They… they look happy."
Rias: "They were. And they loved you more than anything, Naruto. Never doubt that."
He looked up, his blue eyes bright with unshed tears and a new, fierce light.
Naruto: "Thank you. I… I never had pictures. Just the one on the monument."
Indra: "Now you have a history. Not just a name. Remember it. It's your foundation. Build on it."
We said our goodbyes there, on the terrace under the lantern light. Promises to write, to visit. Naruto hugged Venelana fiercely, shook hands with Sirzechs and Zeoticus, and gave Rias a surprisingly respectful bow. He turned to me last.
Naruto: "Indra-nii… thanks. For… for everything. For the scroll, for the training… for them."
Indra: "You're family, Naruto. Distant, loud, and troublesome. But family. Protect your home. We'll protect ours. And we'll see each other again, on better days."
He grinned, that blinding, sun-breaker grin. "You bet!"
The journey back to the Land of Lightning was a study in silent, swift efficiency. The two Raijin vehicles, now accompanied by three sleek Kumo gliders riding escort formation above, cut through the landscape. Samui, Karui, and Omoi were all business, their senses extended, linked to the glider pilots and the emotion-sensor feed from the lead vehicle. The Daimyo, to his credit, remained calm, occasionally asking technical questions about the scenery flashing by.
We crossed the border into Lightning Country without incident. The tension didn't ease, but it changed flavor—from the anxiety of crossing hostile territory to the vigilant readiness of defending the heartland.
Finally, we reached the main gates of Konoha—the official departure point for the Samurai escort and where our larger contingent had gathered. The Raijin vehicles hummed to a stop. The Raikage and the Daimyo emerged to formal, final farewells with the Samurai commander.
Rias came to stand beside me, watching the protocol. She leaned in, her voice a whisper.
Rias: "You know, we could have just done this from the start. Saved days of travel. A thought, a rip in space, and poof—Konoha gates."
I smiled, glancing down at her.
Indra: "A logical thought. But my Mangekyō ability, Palkia—the spatial decree—isn't omnipotent teleportation. To fold space and move from Point A to Point B, I need a precise, conceptual coordinate of Point B. Not just 'Konoha.' I need a specific, fixed spatial address I can visualize and anchor to. Before this summit, I'd never been to the Samurai citadel or this specific gate. I had no 'address' to target."
Her brow furrowed. "So you can't just go anywhere?"
Indra: "I can go towards anywhere I can clearly see or sense over a distance. Or I can create portals between two points I'm intimately familiar with. But true, blind long-range teleportation to an unknown location? That's a good way to get half your body fused with a mountain. The journey here gave me the coordinates. Now, I have them. Next time, we can skip the ride."
Rias: "So this was a scouting trip for your eyes."
Indra: "Among other things."
The formalities ended. The Samurai bowed and turned back. Our people were all present—the Jonin, the Daimyo's staff, my mother Delia, who had been waiting with a Kumo escort detail. I saw the weariness in everyone's posture. The summit, the emotional toll, the constant vigilance—it was done.
Raikage A: "Alright! The vacation's over. Time to go home. Indra, if you'd do the honors. I think we've all had enough of scenic routes for one week."
I nodded. I stepped forward, into the clear space before the gates. I activated my Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. The intricate, geometric pattern spun lazily in my right eye, casting the world in a sharper, more layered hue. I didn't need drama, but the sheer weight of the spatial power I was about to wield demanded a focus that was visible.
I raised my hand, palm facing the empty air before me. In my mind's eye, I called up the coordinate—not of Kumo's gates, but of the secured, private hangar beneath the Raikage's tower. A place of absolute familiarity.
Indra: "Palkia."
The word was a whisper, a command to reality itself.
The air in front of my hand didn't tear. It sheared. A vertical line of impossible black appeared, then widened horizontally with a sound like a giant canvas being ripped. Through the rift, the familiar sight of the hangar, illuminated by soft, ambient light, was visible. The distance of hundreds of miles was folded into a doorway ten feet wide.
Gasps came from the Kumo shinobi who hadn't seen this before. The Daimyo's eyes were wide with awe. The Raikage just grinned.
Raikage A: "Neat trick. Everyone, move through! Now! Glider pilots, you're on rearguard, follow last and seal it!"
The evacuation was military-precise. The Daimyo and his aides first, escorted by Samui and Omoi. Then the Jonin, the staff. My mother, giving me a proud, worried smile as she passed through with Rias. Karui and the glider pilots brought up the rear, walking backwards, eyes scanning the Konoha gate area until the last moment.
I was the last one on this side. I took a final look at the gate, the village hidden in the leaves, holding its secrets, its pain, and its two boys who were now my responsibility in ways they didn't even know. Then I stepped through the spatial rift.
On the other side, in the cool, quiet hum of the Kumo hangar, I turned. With a final focused thought, I willed the rift closed. It zipped shut with a soft snap, severing the connection.
The immediate tension bled out of the room. Shoulders slumped. Quiet sighs of relief were heard.
Raikage A: "Right. Lord Daimyo, let's get you to the palace. You have a new security detail to meet and a very comfortable bed waiting. Indra—debrief tomorrow. No lab, no projects. Rest. That's an order."
The Daimyo nodded, allowing himself to look weary now that he was home. "Indeed. Thank you, Raikage. Indra… my thanks again. For the car, for the shield."
They moved off, Samui and Omoi falling into step beside the Daimyo, already beginning their new duty.
Around me, the hangar cleared. The Jonin saluted and headed for their own barracks or homes. Soon, it was just Rias, my mother, and me.
Delia walked over, cupping my face in her hands. She studied my eyes, the faint, lingering glow of the Mangekyō.
Delia: "You're pushing yourself."
Indra: "It was necessary."
Delia: "It's always necessary with you. Come on. Home. Real food. No diplomacy, no plotting. Just soup and quiet."
Rias slipped her hand into mine, leaning her head against my shoulder. The day's iron-clad composure softened into simple, profound fatigue.
Rias: "She's right. Even architects need to come down from the scaffolding."
We left the hangar, emerging into the crisp, high-altitude night of Kumo. The village glittered below and around us, a cascade of lights against the dark mountains. The waterfalls roared their eternal song. The barrier hummed its gentle, protective thrum—a sound I had built.
We walked the familiar path to our home, the sound of our footsteps a quiet rhythm in the peaceful night. The summit was over. The deals were struck. The warnings were given. The goodbyes were said. The storm of politics and war was gathering at our borders, but here, for this moment, within the fortress we had built, there was quiet.
And it was enough.
[System Notification: Template Update: Victor Von Doom – 41% Completed. Reason: Successful negotiation of sovereign economic-military pacts. Establishment of self-reinforcing geopolitical dependency networks. Advancement of 'Doctrine of Deterrent Infrastructure' to national ally level.]
[System Notification: Emotional Anchor Stability Increased. Bonds with Uzumaki Clan (Konoha branch) solidified. Mentor/Protector dynamic established with Naruto Uzumaki. Path of 'Asura's Heir' now influenced.]
The messages flickered at the edge of my perception. Data points in the grand design. But as I opened the door to our home, to the warm light and the smell of my mother's cooking, I dismissed them. Some things, the system couldn't quantify. The weight of Rias's hand in mine. The calm in my mother's eyes. The solid stone of Kumo beneath my feet.
This was what I was building for. Not for templates, not for completion percentages. For this.
The door closed behind us, shutting out the gathering storm. For now.
End of chapter – 37.