"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword."
— Ned Stark
--
After fifteen minutes, the last wave of shinobi attempted to retreat.
Otis stood in the center of the street, breathing steady, clothes torn, hair drifting, and his cloak soaked in dust and blood.
Hundreds of bodies lay around him, injured, unconscious, crippled, or dead.
Taro's unit formed a perimeter around him.
Civilians stared from windows and alleys with shaking hands.
Otis finally lowered his shield.
He looked at the last remaining Grass commander, trembling, bleeding from his lip, holding a half-broken spear with both hands even though his arms shook too violently to keep it steady.
His knees buckled once. He forced himself upright again, out of pride more than courage.
Otis walked toward him slowly, dragging the edge of his axe across the ground. The scraping sound made the commander flinch with every step.
When Otis finally stopped in front of him, he tilted his head slightly.
"One last question. Even though I already know the answer… I still want to hear it from you."
The commander swallowed hard.
Otis's shadow fell over him like a mountain.
"Your daimyō knew what was happening here," Otis continued.
"Didn't he?"
Silence.
A long, heavy silence.
The commander's grip tightened on the spear until blood dripped from his knuckles.
Otis leaned in just a little closer.
"He wasn't just aware," Otis said softly, "he was involved in all of this.
Right?"
The commander's breathing hitched.
But instead of answering…he spat blood at Otis's feet.
"…Go to hell."
Otis didn't blink.
He swung the axe once.
THUNK.
The commander's body dropped to the dirt in a single, clean motion.
Everyone froze.
Otis rested the blade on his shoulder and turned his gaze to the remaining circle of battered Grass shinobi.
They stiffened like prey that finally realized the predator was looking directly at them.
Otis pointed at one of them, a mid-ranking chūnin shaking so violently his tanto fell from his hand.
"You."
The chūnin flinched
Otis stepped toward him
"Same question."
The chūnin stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet, falling onto the ground.
"I'll say everything!" he shouted, voice cracking. "Everything, please don't kill me!"
"D-D-Daimyo" he stuttered. "Yes! YES, he knew! He ordered it! He gave the researchers money, j-j-jutsu scrolls, everything!"
He shook violently, the words pouring out of him in panic.
"He approved the abducted children, he approved the experiments, he said it was for a 'new Grass' a stronger Grass, please don't kill me please don't kill me"
He clutched his head, trembling uncontrollably.
"We had no choice, if we refused, we were executed! We-we please, that's the truth! I swear!"
Otis tilted his head slightly, watching the man shake in terror.
"…Better."
The shinobi dropped his forehead to the ground, sobbing.
"I wasn't part of it, I wasn't, I swear! I never went inside the labs! Please! I have a wife… she's pregnant! Please!"
Otis crouched slightly, looking him in the eyes.
"You weren't part of the labs?"
"N-no!"
"You didn't touch a child?"
"No! Never! I swear on my life!"
Otis nodded once.
"That's why you're still breathing."
The man nearly collapsed again, relief flooding him so fast he choked on his breath.
Otis stood up and looked at Taro.
"Taro."
Taro straightened instantly.
"Yes?"
"Chain him. And anyone else with him. We'll take them to testify."
Taro nodded.
"Understood."
A moment later…
"Otis-sama! These ones were running away! They're from the labs!"
Taro's men dragged several doctors and researchers forward, the ones who had taken part in the experiments.
Otis walked toward them.
They collapsed to their knees before he even reached them.
"W-we were forced!"
"We only followed orders!"
"Please, PLEASE!!"
Otis didn't raise his axe immediately.
"How many?"
None of them answered.
"Number of victims. Say it."
Their mouths opened… but no sound came out.
Otis exhaled once.
And that was it.
His axe fell, once, twice…
When it was done, Otis brushed a fleck of dust from his shoulder. Not the blood.
Otis swept his gaze across shinobi and civilians.
"RAISE YOUR EYES. Look carefully. This is what you let happen while pretending not to see."
Shinobi and villagers alike lowered their heads, unable to face his eyes.
Otis cracked his neck.
"Now," he said, rolling his shoulders as if warming up for a morning jog,
"Let's go have a conversation with a Daimyo who likes playing god."
As he started to move—
FWIP!!
A razor-thin sheet of paper sliced through the air toward Otis's face, so fast he didn't even register it until his body moved instinctively, dodging by a hair's breadth.
The paper embedded into the ground where his skull had been a heartbeat earlier.
A single bead of blood slid down his jaw.
Otis's eyes lifted sharply.
And there, floating above them all, was a woman descending like a falling snowflake.
Blue hair.
Amber eyes.
Wings made entirely of paper.
His eyes narrowed as he recognized the woman from the show.
'…Konan.'
(Pic)
***
A while ago…
Konan was bored.
Nagato had slipped deeper into his god persona, becoming more and more consumed by Akatsuki's "divine mission."
Konan loved him, believed in him, but she could only sigh internally whenever he slipped into that dramatic god mode. He wasn't a kid anymore… yet here they were.
Maybe he'd grow out of it. Maybe?
Since she rarely had anything to do besides overseeing minor operations and gathering intel... So she accepted a small mission in the Land of Grass.
She rented a small room in an inn, reviewed mission scrolls, and ignored drunken shinobi arguing outside.
If this brings peace…it will be worth it.
A quiet night. A small country.
Nothing interesting…
She was bored
Until she felt the disturbance.
Konan paused halfway through folding a paper crane in her inn room.
Screams erupted outside. Chakra surged through the village like a shockwave. Explosions rattled distant streets.
Konan stepped onto the balcony.
What she saw made her eyebrows tilt upward slightly.
A man no, something large was tearing through squads of trained shinobi. Stone shields erupted at his will, earth swallowed enemies whole, and his axe cut through metal like cloth..
--
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