The Land of Rain.
Located in the central region of the shinobi world's largest continent, it borders the three great nations of Fire, Wind, and Earth, as well as the three smaller nations of Grass, Bird, and River.
Towering mountain ranges separate Earth and Wind from Rain, meaning the Land of Rain is flanked by high mountain barriers. This creates a funnel-shaped topography, blocking the warm, moisture-laden air currents blowing from the ocean toward the Lands of Wind and Earth.
The saturated air is forced upwards, condensing into massive amounts of orographic rainfall that pours down onto the Land of Rain, causing concentrated, perpetual precipitation.
It is this extreme topography that results in most of the Earth and Wind countries being covered in barren rock and deserts, while creating this "Nation of Tears."
At the same time, the abundant rainfall gathers into several surging rivers, flowing like main arteries to the surrounding nations, nourishing the Lands of Bird, Grass, and River, and even providing Wind Country with its few oases…
But the great nations did not thank the Land of Rain.
Caught between Earth, Wind, and Fire, the Land of Rain became, to varying degrees, a buffer zone and a sacrificial pawn during the Second and Third Great Shinobi Wars, leaving this weeping nation even more desolate and sorrowful.
Tap… tap…
Atop the tallest tower in Amegakure, a figure stood before a window, looking out. His face was cold behind his gas mask, his long, pale-yellow hair flowing in the wind.
Outside in the night, torrential rain lashed against the glass. Beyond the small pool of light, everything was shrouded in impenetrable darkness.
If an outsider could see this man's face and recognize him, they would be shocked and puzzled by his aging.
It wasn't just the aging of his appearance, but a deep-seated, internal weariness. A hollowness and decay, as if he were being gnawed at by worms from the inside out.
Hanzō of the Salamander.
The powerful ninja who single-handedly held off the great nations during the Second Great Shinobi War. The hero and legend of Amegakure. The warrior who once almost represented the pinnacle and limit of a shinobi without a Kekkei Genkai…
He was old.
He was of Chiyo's generation, now past sixty.
He could feel with absolute clarity his vitality and strength draining away. The poison sacs once implanted in his body, a source of pride, had become a fountain of pain and loathing.
Weakness and age had made this former powerhouse paranoid. He now had guards on twenty-four-hour rotation and lived every minute in the shadow of death.
All of this… because of that brat named "Nagato" and his terrifying power…
"Hanzō-sama."
The voice from behind pulled Hanzō from his reverie. He instinctively frowned slightly, casting a glance back before speaking in a low voice, "Still no trace of them?"
"I-It's not found yet, Hanzō-sama."
Facing the increasingly volatile Hanzō, the Amegakure ninja's voice trembled. "Most of the Akatsuki remnants have been purged, but their two leaders remain at large. Every time we find a lead, it always… always ends up being a dead end."
"It's as if…"
He paused, not daring to continue. Hanzō, however, finished the sentence, his voice slightly cold. "As if they received a warning in advance?"
So, Amegakure was still not clean!
'Why? Why do they always betray me? I just want to live. I just want the Land of Rain to survive. Is that so wrong?
No, I'm not wrong! If not for me, the Land of Rain would still be a sacrifice to the great nations!
The wrong ones are those naive fools!'
Sensing the violent, murderous intent emanating from Hanzō, the Amegakure ninja knelt behind him, head bowed, trembling.
After a long while, the chilling aura gradually faded. Hanzō asked coldly, "Anything else?"
"…"
The Amegakure ninja's Adam's apple bobbed. For a moment, he didn't dare to speak.
Seeing this, Hanzō felt a surge of unease. He frowned and growled, "Speak!"
"Yes! Yes!" The Amegakure ninja gulped, his voice trembling. "According to intelligence... the Land of Fire has declared war on the Land of Lightning!"
"..."
A deathly silence filled the room. There was no response. The ninja kept his head bowed rigidly, not daring to look up.
A slate-gray sky tore open. A flash of lightning split the darkness, illuminating the world, and also illuminating Hanzō's pale, fear-stricken face.
Why? How?
The Land of Fire had actually declared war on the Land of Lightning!
Over a decade had passed between the Second and Third Great Shinobi Wars. Yet now, a mere four years after the Third War ended, the specter of war once again shrouded the world?
BOOM!!
A thunderclap, like the roar of a war drum, exploded across the sky, jolting Hanzō out of his shock and panic.
"Hanzō-sama..." came the Amegakure ninja's cautious voice from behind.
Hanzō hurriedly composed his expression, masking his fear. "I know. Leave."
The ninja was taken aback but still bowed respectfully and retreated, closing the door behind him.
Though Hanzō had aged, and his temperament had grown volatile, to the ninja of Amegakure, he was still their hero.
But...
"War! War again! Why?! Why now?!"
As the buffer zone between the Fire Country and the lands of Earth and Wind, if the conflict between Fire and Lightning escalated further—and if Wind and Earth decided to join the fray—the Land of Rain would have absolutely no chance of escaping its fate as a sacrifice once more!
In fact, Hanzō could already guess that upon receiving this news, the other great nations would undoubtedly send envoys to the Land of Rain to probe the situation.
Thinking of this, Hanzō watched the waterfall-like rain outside the window, whipped by a strong wind into a misty, foggy haze, obscuring everything.
'If I die, what becomes of the Land of Rain?
If I die, what becomes of its people?
If I die, how can I face those who sacrificed themselves before?
If I die, will everything I've built simply vanish like smoke?
If I die, will I go from a hero revered by all to a sinner reviled by thousands?'
Such thoughts surged uncontrollably in Hanzō's heart.
He felt like a rootless weed adrift in these murky, muddy waters. Beneath the curtain of rain, beneath the rippling surface, swam schools of bloodthirsty piranhas. The moment he showed the slightest sign of weakness, they would tear a strip of flesh from him!
The entire Amegakure and the Land of Rain rested on Hanzō's spine.
It was precisely his presence that had prevented the Land of Rain from being severely ravaged during the Third Great Shinobi War.
But now... Hanzō was simply too old.
Once firm, broad, and proud, that spine could no longer bear the weight of these hundreds of thousands of desperate hopes.
Fear, trembling, cowardice, shrinking back…
Hanzō's heart was nearly engulfed by this tidal wave of emotions. The blade that had once cut forward so sharply and relentlessly was now being corroded by the bloodstains upon it.
At the same time, at a cave near the outskirts of Amegakure, three figures cloaked in black robes with red clouds emerged.
Their eyes, devoid of emotion like those of the dead, looked into the distance, clearly seeing the highest tower in the village. It stood like an iron-gray giant overlooking the shorter forest below.
That was Hanzō's location.
"The Fourth Great Ninja War… The great nations are always so greedy," the leading figure, Pain, spoke with chilling indifference. "Though we have not yet found suitable corpses for the lower three Paths, the upper three Paths alone will be sufficient."
Given the turbulent state of the ninja world, he could delay no longer.
Only by seizing control of Amegakure could the "Akatsuki" truly begin recruiting members.
As for the aged and weakened Hanzō… he had long since ceased to be a concern.
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