Naruto leaped off the bridge without hesitation, body tipping forward into the open dark of the spiral stairwell. Wind rushed past his ears as he dropped—fast, controlled.
Two shadow figures erupted from the walls halfway down. Black cloaks billowed; they darted at him like spears, kunai glinting in the faint fuinjutsu glow.
Naruto twisted mid-fall. Legs snapped out in a scissor kick. *Thud-thud.* Both heels connected hard with armored chests.
The two ninjas grunted, momentum reversed—they flew back and slammed into the stone wall with twin *cracks*.
They didn't stay down. Already pushing off, masks cracked but eyes sharp behind them.
Naruto landed on the lowest level in a crouch. Wind chakra flared beneath his boots—soft *whoosh*—cushioning the impact so his knees barely bent.
He straightened, eyes narrowing at the pair.
One wore the familiar horned mask of the Yamanaka clan—long hair tied back, stance loose but ready for mind techniques. The other had the high collar and subtle insect hum of an Aburame—bugs already crawling faintly beneath the cloak.
'These must be the two guys. Forgot their names. One's Yamanaka, the other Aburame. No time to play.'
He needed to reach Danzo.
Naruto flashed through seals.
*Poof-poof-poof.*
Three shadow clones burst into existence beside him—identical black jumpsuits, identical smirks.
"Deal with these two," he ordered.
The clones didn't hesitate. They charged forward in perfect sync.
The real Naruto turned away. Ahead stretched a massive tunnel—wide enough for ten men to walk abreast, walls rough-hewn stone, ceiling lost in shadow. Darkness swallowed the far end, but his Sage-enhanced senses cut through it like daylight. A single path, straight and long.
'Guess that's where he is.'
He started walking. Boots echoed softly. The tunnel seemed to stretch for miles—cold air, faint drip of water somewhere distant, the low buzz of underground life. He didn't slow.
After what felt like forever, a bright light appeared ahead—soft, golden, growing stronger with every step.
He reached the opening.
Naruto stepped out into open air.
The chamber was enormous—a hidden sanctuary carved deep beneath the earth, roof missing entirely so the night sky glittered overhead, stars sharp and cold. Moonlight poured down, silvering everything.
A wide grass field stretched before him—lush, impossibly green, swaying gently in an underground breeze. A narrow river cut through the center, water clear and murmuring over smooth stones. Fireflies drifted lazily above the current, tiny points of light.
In the exact middle stood a small, traditional Japanese house—dark wood, tiled roof curving at the eaves, paper screens glowing warm from within. Lanterns hung from the porch, casting soft orange pools across the grass.
Naruto's senses sharpened. One chakra signature dominated the space—dense, old, rotten at the edges. Layers of stolen Sharingan, Hashirama cells, suppressed rage. Immense. Unmistakable.
'Yep. That's him.'
He cracked his knuckles again—quiet, deliberate.
The house door slid open with a faint *shhh.*
A figure stepped onto the porch.
Bandages wrapped one arm and half the face. The visible eye gleamed red beneath a slitted pupil.
Danzo Shimura.
Naruto's hand settled on his tanto hilt. The wind picked up across the field, rustling grass in waves and sending ripples across the clear river.
"Uzumaki Naruto," Danzo said, voice low and cold. "I knew one day you'd go rogue, just like your friend Sasuke Uchiha. I should have put you in a cage when I had the chance."
His single visible eye widened slightly. Hands flashed through seals—sharp, practiced.
"Wind Style: Wind Bullets!"
He exhaled sharply.
*Fwoom-fwoom-fwoom!*
A rapid barrage of compressed wind bullets shot forward—each one a spinning, razor-edged orb slicing the air with high-pitched whistles.
Naruto didn't flinch.
'I really wish Kishimoto was more creative with his jutsu,' he thought dryly.
With a casual flick of his hand—almost lazy—wind chakra surged outward in a single, sweeping motion.
*WOOOSH!*
A massive crescent wave of pressurized air roared toward Danzo, tearing up grass in a straight line and howling like a storm.
Danzo's eye widened. He leaped high, cloak flapping. The wave passed beneath him and slammed into the small wooden house behind him.
*CRASH!*
Timber exploded outward—roof tiles shattering, walls splintering, the entire structure disintegrating into flying debris that rained across the field. The river churned from the shockwave.
Danzo landed lightly on the grass, boots sinking slightly. He stared at Naruto.
'He didn't use any hand signs.' The thought flashed through his mind. 'They weren't lying when they said he was strong.'
He reached inside his robe with his left hand and slowly drew out his right arm.
Gold clasps glinted along the length. He flexed his fingers once.
'I can sacrifice one or two eyes. I need to save the rest when I take over the village.'
With a flick, the clasps popped open. Bandages unwound in slow spirals, falling away.
The arm was grotesque—pale skin riddled with dozens of sewn-in Sharingan eyes, lids half-closed, pupils staring blankly in every direction. The sight was nauseating, unnatural.
Naruto's smirk widened beneath the mask.
' Izanagi, huh? Tough jutsu to get around… if you know nothing about it.'
A faint orange hue flickered above his own eyes. He reached up, tugged the black cloth mask down from his face, and let it drop to the grass.
Danzo finished untying the last bandage. The Sharingan arm flexed—eyes opening one by one, red irises spinning slowly into mature Sharingan eyes.
"I always wanted to keep a Jinchūriki as a pet," Danzo muttered. A small, evil smile curved his lips. "This is my chance."
The moment he activated Izanagi—reality itself bending around the stolen technique—Naruto moved.
He exploded forward in a blur of black. Danzo's right arm snapped up, one Sharingan eye blazing bright.
The world around that eye twisted—space warping, time stuttering.
But Naruto was already inside his guard.
His fist—wrapped in a thin layer of wind chakra—slammed into Danzo's sternum.
*BOOM.*
The impact echoed across the field like thunder. Danzo's body folded around the punch; ribs cracked audibly. He flew backward, cloak tearing, boots skidding trenches in the grass.
Naruto didn't chase immediately.
He stood there, fist still extended, orange glow fading from his eyes.
Danzo crashed through the remnants of the house debris, rolling once before sliding to a stop near the riverbank.
The old man coughed once—blood flecking his lips—then pushed himself up with his normal arm.
One Sharingan eye on his right arm dimmed, the pupil contracting to nothing.
Izanagi had triggered. Reality snapped back. Danzo's body was intact again—no broken ribs, no blood.
He straightened slowly, smile gone, replaced by cold calculation.
Naruto cracked his knuckles once more.
"First eye down," he said quietly.
Danzo's remaining Sharingan eyes spun faster.
The real fight had just begun.
TO BE CONTINUED