The Initiate

The web of lies people spin in order to make it through to the next day in this world with their sanity in check. Whether to protect those whom we hold dear or to fool ourselves, we all weave them. What assortment of lies was Nobunaga currently telling himself to justify his position in the world? What distortion of reality was he presenting to himself as truth in order to blind himself from his failures? Duty was his falsehood, the ideal he used to forge his existence and press on. The scapegoat he used to justify a life in servitude to those he despised, those he branded as his enemy. It was the last crutch he used to traverse this world that he did not understand least it be kicked out from under him and he plunge into the depths of the abyss. 

"How have you survived for so long in this world?" The beast from within rhetorically hissed, the creature always aware of Nobunaga's inner thoughts and turmoils. He let the words of the Bijuu reverberate in his mind as he allowed the scent of salt carried by the wind and the feel of the ocean breeze wash over his face. Seated right at the edge where grass turned into sand, where he spent most of his time here in Kiri, the Hiyu remained silent. Despite the Bijuu's insult, the relationship between the two had actually grown, man and beast were becoming one. The events that brought Nobunaga here showed the Rokubi that Nobunaga was a man willing to sacrifice everything and give up his life to do what he thought would bring greater peace to the world, something the beast was familiar with from its former host. 

"You're situation may have changed but your mission has not, human." As if chiseled out of stone, the crossed legged Hiyu remained unmoving and listened to his unlikely companion. "You have never been a master of your reality. Do not let this new one break you, you who are suppose to be unbreakable." The thought of being unbreakable amused the Hiyu. What use was being unbreakable if he could not act as the shield the world needed? Instead, he was to be turned into a battering ram. "Find it in yourself, accept that you must work with my brother's host in achieving his goals and find a way to achieve your ideals in doing so, much as I have with you."

As doubt and opposition to those words sprang into the Hiyu's mind. How could he ever create the change that he wanted while working for a man who's view of the world was so different? However Nobunaga did not have time to respond for the beast within's internal monologue had been cut off by someone's arrival. Stoically Nobunaga would turn his head just enough to his left eye could catch a glimpse of the man standing behind him. "Lord Mizukage requests an audience with you in his office." Speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

Without a word, the armored brute would heavily rise to his fuel height and walk past Jester without so much as a glance to the smaller individual. With the clinking of his armor and the swaying of his great sword, the cloak shinobi stomped through the foreign village, making it to the Kage's Tower in no time at all. Whether Jester had followed and would be there to open the door to Xyxer's office or not and Nobunaga was required to knock, upon entry the failed aegis would take a couple of steps before kneeling down onto his right knee and bowing his head. "Lord Mizukage." Remaining down till further instructions were given, Rokubi's feminine like voice echoed one final time. "Heed my words Hiyu."

Life was a fickle thing. Reminders on mortality came in the most peculiar ways; Sometimes the mere deed of walking down the street proved more fatal than being the vanguard in a war. One of the greatest failings of the human condition, however, was the ability to outlive those that were considered your kin. To witness your home village, and all the memories that came with it, reduced to nothing but rubble and ash. To continue walking the empty world when your peers had all fallen and you were left with little more than impersonations of shinobi. People who did not truly understand the nature of the role, nor the sacrifices that had to be made for it. Soon, the pretenders would all be served a humbling reminder on just how fickle life could be, and Xyxer himself would be the harbinger of their mortality.

Alone he stood gazing out from the window of his office. Bustling streets, optimistic civilians, trained shinobi. They were designed not only to kill but to protect as well. To master both sides of the same coin so that the odds could never fall against them. With enough time perhaps they would resemble the forces of Old Kirigakure, yet without the weak leadership that he had been forced to endure. Leadership which incited a spiral of events that lead to the inevitable loss of his greatest peer. The only person that had been considered his friend. Kenchi Takizawa. An unfamiliar feeling streaked through his body, a physical sensation that felt like an invisible wound that tore within him. The festival had reminded the monster of his own mortality, of those that he had lost, yet that was the sole name that lingered. The younger brother of Xyxer had always walked with Oni, yet perhaps the Mizukage had been the must terminal of them all.

The feeling refused to subside as it violently pulsated inside him. Had his orders on the destruction of Tengakure resulted in his friend's death? The ache throbbed once more and the unconsciously clenched fist of the man reached out, clasping the rim of a glass jug that rest on his desk. With the empty object in hand, his body spun around in protest against the foreign wound, releasing the projectile at the opposing wall. The jug shattered against the wall next to the door, pooling at the ground. Alone he stood. His knuckles white and his fingers furled into balls. Kenchi was not dead. He would find him.

He would find him.

Soon, the footsteps of Nobunaga's heavy armour became audible at the end of the corridor. His hands hesitantly relaxed, now only semi-clenched so as to not reveal his internal discord. A leader could not be followed if they showed signs of weakness, especially to a foreign shinobi that thought they were capable of opposing him. Jester had not followed the brute for he was required elsewhere, so once the man opened the door to allow entry for himself, Xyxer was pleasantly surprised to see him immediately kneel. He knew the customs already. How useful. "You can stand." The man spoke, stepping around the table and closer to Nobunaga, the walking fortress, "I assume you understand why I called you here?" Unlike the other meetings, no emotion was evident on the mans face. No smile, no curiosity, nothing sardonic. Neutral he appeared at this crucial moment, for a new ANBU Operative was to enter the fold and serve Kirigakure.

From his kneeling position, with head bowed, Nobunaga could see the shattered remains of a glass object scattered across the perfectly installed wooden floors of the Kage's chambers. The Hiyu did not get the impression that Xyxer was a man whom lived in an unkept environment therefore was this mess a recent one? With the demolished object being so far from where he currently stood, Nobunaga could only assume he had launched the object across the room or broke it on his way into the office and refused to pick it up for such a trivial task was beneath him. However, if the former was the case then there was something gnawing at the leviathan. A soar spot, a point of weakness in a man who exuded only strength and power. Whatever it was, it was veiled from the Hiyu. Despite this man being his new master, the failed aegis knew next to nothing about him. He did not know who the conqueror truly was, only how he was known to the outside world and that would provide no insight to his true self nor the potential inner turmoil eating away at him as the struggle of working for Kumo once feasted on the Hiyu.

However this man knew nothing about the former Storm Operative he was bringing into his service as well. They were like ghosts, unknown to the other with nothing but their past. A past that haunted the Hiyu, a constant reminder that he lived a life of defeat. A constant reminder that his failure led him here. Would this chapter in his life be the one where his failures finally led to some semblance of success? Would that even be possible, serving under a man who Nobunaga fundamentally believed himself to despise, a man he thought was his mission to stop?

As instructed, the brute would silently rise to his full height and stoically watch Xyxer approach him. He was void of any emotion, presenting himself as a blank canvas which told Nobunaga that he was summoned here for business and nothing more. "I do." Responded the Hiyu in his usual deep, coarse voice. "I have yet to be officially admitted into your service." Nobunaga had been here for a little while now. He had been introduced to the shinobi of Kirigakure no Sato but as of now he was only part of their Anbu by word of mouth. He did not even have a Kiri head guard yet. He was not officially a member of Kiri's shinobi forces. He needed to be initiated.

Faith was a curious thing, it oft leads to the demise of many. To trust so deeply that an event will occur without a contingency plan was suicidal in of itself when it involved granting another immense power, even moreso when the person granted such strength was a beast of no nation. A man that had fought under the banner of more flags than most civilians would ever have the privilege to witness with their own eyes. A foolish action, yet one that Xyxer had decided was viable. It was all a part of the grand game, his curiosity had an itch that needed to be scratched lest it'd irk him longer than he cared to admit. If this gambit was to pay off, the rewards offered to be generous, yet success or failure meant little so long as that itch left.

Words left his mouth with little tone to either sweeten or sour them, they were merely there, presented as clearly as the shards of glass, "I'll be curt, Nobunaga. I care little for the life of a Sunagakure shinobi and a Kumogakure prisoner. For full service, those parts of you must die. Washed away. Some would even say absolved." The Leviathan stepped past the man and into the doorway, carrying on down the hallway at a leisurely pace. Memories about the past will only cause you suffering. Ruin your instinct when mirages dance across your dreams that evoke longing of what once was. They redirected towards the flight of stairs heading lower. A faint clicking of a door could be heard from where they had left.

Once they entered the staircase Xyxer continued the descent into the abyss of the Mizukage chambers. The further they went, the darker the passage became once they were beneath the ground level. "Tell me, Nobunaga. What do you think crafts the perfect ANBU? In your own mind, don't give me an answer you suspect I desire." His words cut through the silence and darkness both, as his hand had now clasped the handle of a lit torch while they continued their movement into the heart of the earth.

Everyone had a past. The winding road they traversed, oft littered with cracks and crevasses, missed exits of failed actions left dwindling in the rear view mirror, naught but their own flickering light to clear their clouded vision of the path that lay ahead. Some were privileged enough to be granted smooth, well paved portions where not a single bump could be felt. Those advantageous enough to be afforded a blissful, sun filled trek numbered in the few and even for them, eventually luck ran out. Everyone crossed their own path, made their own decisions and dealt with the hazards and disasters that were out of their control. The path they left behind sculpted them, defined them, pressed and rounded them, molded them into the person they were today. For better or for worse, that road traveled played a defining role in making each and every person that still stood to this day. A man was nothing without his past. Take the past away from a man and all you have left is a shell. To crack open his casing, gut his insides and clean his husk. To make an empty shell ready molded once more, a man must be purged of his past.

Stoically, the stern brute listened to the words of the conqueror, standing idly by as the white haired kage so carelessly rejected the person Nobunaga once was. In one simple sentence the leader of Kiri had perfectly characterized and summed up Nobunaga's life, as if everything he had been through was so trivial and perhaps it was. Perhaps he was right. The life of a shinobi from a deceased Suna was a story of failure. The life of a shinobi enlisted into the kingdom of Kumo was one of forced servitude. Nobunaga lived a life that was easily dismissed as pathetic, a life that people would kill to forget in order to move on. Perhaps it was time to move on from his past. Unlike the scars that littered his body, toughening and making his leather hard skin stronger, the past that plagued his memory held him back. A constant reminder of his failures, a handicap that held him back from progressing. Perhaps Xyxer was right.

Nobunaga thrusted the words of the Mizukage and its subsequent musings from his mind, turning to follow the now exiting Kage. There was sense in the mans words and he was struggling with that fact. Was he coming to see eye to eye with this man? "It is the memories of my past that made the man standing behind you." Coarsely responded the Hiyu. "The man that challenged you in the forest for his ideals. The man that remains honor bound to his word. You would seek to rid me of that?" How could he come to forget his roots? How could he forget where he came from? Despite his failures, it was that very same past that bread the honor bound, justice seeking shinobi whom now followed the Mizukage down the descending steps of the Kage's chambers. Who would he be without that past? Would he become akin to the beast that was the conquering leviathan? Or did the mans words resonate with him because he was already similar to him?

His thoughts descending into madness all the while descending into darkness himself, the struggling Hiyu would continue to follow Xyxyer into the chasm of shadows, his gaze now sternly fixing itself on the Kage after he posed his question. It seemed a simple question enough, however Nobunaga was under the impression that there was an alternative purpose as to why the question was posed. The ear ringing silence would linger for a moment while the Hiyu earnestly pondered. Nobunaga would think back to his ANBU trials back in Suna, where the darkness of his childhood and the demons it bread caused him to lash out upon being brought to the brink of death due to their rigorous training regimes. "Pain." The single spoken word echoed past the clinking of his armor and down the winding staircase. A simple answer, but one Nobunaga felt was the right response. "Sufficient, well placed pain will crack even the sturdiest of shinobi. Anyone put through the harshest of circumstances who nevertheless remains loyal has been crafted into the perfect ANBU." The Hiyu spoke from experience as the pain he endured during his Suna trails had left their mark on his body and he still stood with them.

The ANBU's response was one that almost mimicked denial, desperately clinging to the belief that the events of his past forged the greatest thing they could become. In a sense, Xyxer could understand it. To be told everything that's lead to this moment was nothing but reminders of a bygone time was a bitter truth that singed the tongue. In reality, they were nothing more than a staircase to the platform her now found himself stood upon. Why allow your thoughts to linger on the steps you've already ascended? The future lied ahead.

"Perhaps that's why you stand behind me, rather than beside me." Xyxer offered the suggestion to Nobunaga, a seed being sown through calm words from a man that was notoriously without kindness... or at least people would have you believe. Kindness had many shades, and a painter did not have to understand a colour in order to work it into his masterpiece. He knew the man would be astute enough to not take the sentiment too literally, offering a rebute about the corridor would serve only to diminish him if he could not see past mere words. He needn't respond any further to that. The quiet titan's mind would do all the talking he needed.

When Nobunaga challenged Xyxer in the forest, it was a most curious event. To willingly offer yourself to someone you loathe was not the wisest decision, especially when you were competing with the person that was believed to be the best in their craft. Swordsman on swordsman. The teachings of the Mist clashing with the ideals of a sandstorm, or was he a lightning storm now? Could Sunagakure ever truly be erased from his heart, or was he also forced to endure the reality of never belonging. On the day he'd offered himself in an attempt to cease Xyxer's ambition, he displayed a quality far more precious than any other. Heart. To throw everything you had, laying your life on the line and to live with your enemies if you fail, yet to persist. It took heart.

Equally, his thoughts on ANBU were an interesting aspect to his character. It caused Xyxer to question the training regimes of other villages. Pain. Being able to tolerate pain was vital, but to curate outstanding operatives from it did not seem to be an effective strategy in his mind. Xyxer now stood at the bottom of the staircase where it blocked their path with a steel vault. While he went about pressing against certain bricks in a sequence, his body obscuring the pattern he'd offer his own thoughts. "Belief." Xyxer stated as the steel vault clicked, eliciting the Mizukage to push against it in order to enter the darkness that lingered within. As he wandered inside the abyss, the tongue of flame from his torch illuminated a wide array of different masks that aligned themselves on a wall. Inky darkness remained in the distance of the seemingly unending room. Xyxer moved deeper into the shadows, advancing while he continued offering his own thoughts, "To whole heartedly believe in what you serve, and to be willing to lay your life down on mere whim if it's called for. Through belief, you can endure any pain. Overcome any enemy. Protect any citizen. I need my ANBU to believe not only in themselves, but in me. They may not understand why I require an action performed, but regardless they must do it and believe in the outcome." Xyxer finished as he came towards where the ground was depressed and filled with seemingly black water.

Continuing to follow Xyxer down the winding staircase, seemingly heading into the core of the earth itself, the Hiyu was held aback by the words of the man directing him. What could he possibly have meant? Did Xyxyer, a chieftain among leaders,  a monster among men believe that Nobunaga contained the potentially to stand beside him, he who stood above all others? He was a man that exuded power, commandeered his people and garnered their unwavering loyalty. Above all else, he was a master swordsman, a talent that had been put on display when he made quick works of the Hiyu. Did the leviathan see Nobunaga as someone who could one day stand beside him in all those aspects? Or was he simply making a jest at the Hiyu? He gazed at Xyxer's back because his past had done nothing good for him, it had done not but create the man who stood beneath him instead of alongside him. Perhaps that was the reason for why he must cull his past, to eradicate what sculpted him into a man who stood behind the Mist leader and begin paving the road to mold him into a man worthy of standing next to him.

The words of the conqueror reverberated through his mind, shaking the foundation of the Hiyu's psyche and the core of his beliefs. Nobunaga took pride in the road he walked. Albeit riddled with failures and missteps, it was that road that had created the justice seeking, honor bound shinobi who gave up on his own desires and pledged himself in service to others. However it was that same road that led to him not achieving any of his ideals, that lead to him being less than the man whom conquered him and not stood before him, leading him into the abyss. 

Idily standing by in silence with his shadow dancing along the walls of the twirling staircase due to the flickering light held by Xyxer, the Hiyu patiently waited for the massive vault like doors concealing the passage ahead to be opened by the ruler. While the unlocking sequence was entered, Xyxer offered his own answer to the question he posed, an answer that one upped the Hiyu's. It was a testament to his wisdom. He was wise beyond his years as he offered an answer the encompassed Nobunaga's and further elaborated on it. Belief triumphed over pain for through belief one would be willing to endure any amount of pain. Nobunaga was not willing to endure unending amounts of physical and mental pain for Koroshi and subsequently Kyson because he could tolerate it, but because he believed in Koroshi and his vision for the world. Not, a man whom stood on the opposite end of the spectrum from Koroshi was asking Nobunaga to place that same belief in him. 

Remaining just a step behind Xyxyer, Nobunaga sternly gazed along the wall adorned with different masks, ominously prancing and swaying in the fluttering light of the lone source of light held in Xyxer's hand. With a clink of his armor, he would come to a suddenly halt before the jet black water that stood still like a pool of ooze. "What is it that you are asking me to place my belief in?" Grunted the Hiyu, breaking the silence that clung to the walls of the eerie chamber they found themselves in. Stoically shifting his gaze away from the masks and towards the white haired individually standing just before him, Nobunaga would continue "What are your goals and ideals, your desired final outcome? What is it that you seek to obtain through my service...? Who is the man that I shall be laying my life on the line for and placing my unwavering belief in?"

The towering aegis served Xyxer and promised no harm would fall upon the citizens and shinobi of Kiri by his hand because he had given his word. However now he was asking for the Hiyu's loyalty to serve him unquestioned, to believe in him no matter the situation. Although Nobunaga probably had no choice in the matter at the end of the day, belief in someone was not something that was forced and surely the Hozuki knew this. He could not force the Hiyu's trust therefore he would have to use that silver tongue and wise words of his to let Nobunaga know who the real Xyxer truly was.

Darkness was often seen as an evil entity, people believed that monsters lingered in the tarry blackness of shadows, that they were too cowardly to expose their distorted faces to the daylight, yet it was the opposite in Xyxers experience. True monsters were always in the spotlight, yet for things other than their nefarious misdeeds. Real monsters enjoyed having eyes on them, masquerading as characters that possessed some semblance of humanity. Some could even feign compassion and humility. Over time, Xyxer had been able to replicate the fabled empathy he heard so much talk about. Now he appeared to be a caring leader to his followers, yet the perspective of outsiders was still tainted with how cruel he once was. Their eyes remained set on the darkness that he had once been engulfed by when he now stood in the light. A dutiful champion, he would proclaim. Every action had a reason, seemingly unending.

The reason for this room replicated the unending belly of a beast was simple; allow the mind to devour itself. When one is left without stimuli, they eventually create their own to a detriment. Shadows start to jeer and morph into fiendish shapes, the silence eventually becoming deafening and their own voice foreign. At this depth, people were truly tested with the shroud of the village looming above them. For a moment, while they traversed the darkness with the light illuminating a variety of masks, Xyxers gaze unconsciously pulled itself towards a certain mask. A grinning panda. The mortality that the conqueror embraced and championed now left a sour taste in his mouth. That mask shouldn't be on the wall with the legion of the dead. It belonged with him.

Innumerable eyes of coal followed them while they proceeded towards their destination, the lines on certain masks seeming to even contort when their eyes left them for but a moment. Each mask had its own story to tell, and they'd all carry more names and history behind them. Heroes to Kirigakure, villains to many. Such titles were meaningless in the grand scheme of things, only cowards and weaklings relied on such pitiful words that lacked the colour needed to fully see the scope of things.

Resting the torch at the side of the declining ridge, the Hozuki placed one leg into the chilling water, and then the other. Roughly abdomen deep, the man awaited the company of Nobunaga, talking while he replicated the actions, "I could paint you a pretty picture. One of flowers and peace through diplomacy. Of undying optimism and a desire to resolve things without violence." The man with an artistic soul talked, the occasional flicker of flame illuminating his stoic expression in the depths, "That would be a lie. I intend to end the pitiful, childish skirmishes between the villages by any means necessary so my people no longer feel uneasy or threatened. One action executed brutally sings a more compelling tune than any assortment of words." The conqueror explained a portion of his philosophy to the main, one that had proven beneficial to him. Actions always spoke louder than words, especially when performed without hesitation. Some called him ruthless to demean him, yet he cloaked himself in such a daring compliment.

Should Nobunaga be accompanying the Mizukage in the water, he'd now place a hand on the back of his head, clasping it firmly with his opposing hand pressing against his torso. The man of Sand was to be drowned on this day, to allow the water to fill his lungs so he could breathe anew in his home of mist. The village that housed shinobi from Tengakure, Kirigakure, Konohagakure, and now Sunagakure. Slowly, he lowered the aegis into the black depths, submerging him in the liquid. Once the male had seemingly passed out under the water, he'd be pulled out from the water and pushed onto the side of the floor that was elevated beside them. His body would decide whether he survived the rebirth. Only the strongest were allowed to be ANBU under the Leviathan.

The lone torch faintly illuminating the shadow filled chasm deep within the earth's crust dimly flickered across the water's surface, murkily revealing Nobunaga's rippling reflection. The water calmly swayed back and forth along with the flicker of the light as the Mizukage took his first step forward, distorting the Hiyu's reflection. Gazing down at his perverted reflection, he watched as the image of himself shifted and change under the influence of the moving liquid, changing the old Nobunaga and giving way to something new, something unrecognizable.

A picture without violence. Nobunaga would like nothing more than to believe such a piece existed, that there existed a composer who could weave a world into existence that that was free of violence and absent of killing. But even the Hiyu knew that such things were Utopian, for even he attempted to bring in a new world order through violence when he challenged the Leviathan back in the snow crusted forests of the Fire Country. It was a reality that Nobunaga had never consciously considered but one he was aware of. Perhaps he believed himself to be better because he did not outright seek the violence, he simply defended against it. The means were different but the ends were the same.

One could consider his actions and methods questionable, even immoral. But he did what he believed was necessary for his people and in the process would end the constant squabbling and conflict that plagued the villages since their existence, something Nobunaga greatly desired. Putting an end to the strife that afflicted the earth was the ultimate goal for the failed aegis, his reason d'etre. Could he finally achieve such a goal standing and serving next to this man? Previously he had stood among men who toiled away with idle conversation and ineffective diplomacy or lazily drifted through life without actually attempting to change anything. All else had failed, what more did he have to lose?

Casually Nobunaga raised his right arm and grasped the bandage wrapped handling of his great sword. With one quick, decisive jolt, he unhooked it from his back and gently rested it against the wall, next to he peering eyes of the animal masks adorning the same surface. He could not have all this water rusting his blade. Heavily, he stepped forward, submerging himself in the water and coming up right next to the Mizukage. "No one has ever successfully put an end to the clashing of shinobi. All past attempts have failed... and I am tired of the old ways... the old methods that have never worked... I am tired of regurgitating these methods and failing all the same, as if expecting a different outcome" It was time to move on and to walk a new path. It was time to kill the past and make way for a future in which Nobunaga could apply the revelation he had been made aware of, the truth that Xyxer taught him during their duel and he showed the village leader he was ready for whatever came next by simply glancing at him.

Without resisting, he let the conquorer place his hands on him and submerge him under the the surface of the abyssal waters. Instinctively, as any normal person who do, the Hiyu held his breath. But he did not struggle. He knew what was required of him. He knew that the old Nobunaga must die and be born anew. However he held his breadth regardless, and made no attempt to force his way back to the surface. What felt like ages slipped away along with the oxygen within the brute's longs, the casual pocked of air in the form of bubbles hovering to the surface of the blackened water and popping their heads. Nobunaga's body would finally give its first jerk as his body gave out and inhaled, filling his lungs and flooding his body with water. Keeping his arms to his sides, his upper body jolted and convulsed as his survival instincts made him struggle but his shinobi training made him resist that very same nature, a conflict between two forces battle for dominance over the ANBU. 

However with of the man holding him down, the Hiyu's body would go numb and the darkness of the room became his reality. His lifeless body hung heavily, only the embrace of the Hozuki preventing his armored body from sinking to the pool's floor. Being flung out of the water and onto the closest surface, Nobunaga's stiff body laid there with nothing more than the flickering flame and the sequentially dripping water from his armor echoing through the cavern. Enough time had gone by to assume that the brute had passed away however the Hiyu's naturally superior physiology was at work, adapting to the unnatural scenario it had been placed in, evolving to overcome the past even and become something new, something better.  

Finally, Nobunaga's chest popped up as if a xenomorph lay inside, ready to be awoken and live. The Hiyu burped up the water that filled his lungs in a coughing fit, allowing him to take a breadth and breath in the musky air of the cavern once more.

The irony of drowning a denizen from the sandy realm of Sunagakure was not lost on the Mizukage. In his youth, he had heard many tales of the folk that squandered in that dry county. How they pioneered the ‘art’ of poison, cultivating a variety of animals to ensure their toxins were capable of crippling even beasts of titanic proportions if a slither of their concoction kissed the skin. Some even spoke about how harsh sandstorms had weathered their skin into a tough hide, the fine steel of blades supposedly bouncing from such a tough exterior; at least, blades other than Kirigakures finest. His knowledge on the village almost entirely based on childhood rumours and Konohagakures records, a mixture of myth and truth to keep him on edge. “The Village Hidden in Ruins” would be a more appropriate name, the man thought, cradling the shinobi under the water that breathed a new life unto him. For a few moments, as ripples poured from the submerging shinobi, he expected clumps of sand to break from his face and disappear into the depths.

Once Nobunaga laid on the floor, Xyxer himself emerged from the cleansing fluid, standing off to the unconscious mans side. An acute amount of attention paid to the man that was potentially meeting his maker by the Conquerors hand. His breathing still steady, no convulsions witnessed. If he was to die in this dark place, a foreigner by his side that had claimed the individual as his own through right of conquest, he could not imagine there would be much more light in his gloomy afterlife. He still had to serve Kirigakures cause, for Xyxer alone could bring peace to the dysfunctional villages.

Crouching down towards the ground, the hand of Xyxer snatched the source of light in the cavern, lifting it from the scorched, black tiles it had settled on. He lifted the torch back up as he rose, the flames bouncing erratically from their vessel. The sight caught the attention of Xyxer, the fire reflecting from his heterochromatic eyes. The amber engorged itself on the heat, roaring with unrivalled passion and fury in response, while his grey eye reflected naught, as unflinching as the moon in the midnight sky where fallen comrades watched over him. The controlled inferno roused a curiosity in the mind of the water user. He wondered how a village would look if utilised, as a torch was, a bonfire in memoriam to the fallen and the gods that had aligned themselves with him and made his apotheosis possible.

Warmth exuded from Xyxer when the awakening figure drew him from his developing thoughts. The ninja of Kirigakure was back in this world, ready to accept his place among the hand selected ANBU of Xyxer Tadashi. If he knew what would be requested of him, then perhaps this moment would have failed to transpire, yet fate has a cruel way with its playthings. For the second time in their life, the Mizukage offered a hand out towards the Hiyu in order to assist him back to standing. “You are reborn. Now you are truly a shinobi under me, Nobunaga, one of my elite. My will, your hands.” The words were almost soft, yet there was a sharpness about them. Something contradictory in his tone.

Should Nobunaga now be on his feet then the dialogue would continue to flow, “With this position under me, you will find yourself in a different world than what you knew prior. One that is not only capable of changing the world, but will.” He now released his grip on the palm of the man, ushering his gaze towards the masks, “You will require a new face; immortal. Each mask carries the story and life of the one that wore it before. ANBU are undying, and now you join their ranks in Kirigakure No Sato, Nobunaga Hiyu. Give yourself some time, go to which mask compels you.” With that, Xyxer afforded the man freedom to explore the darkness himself to search the masks. Nobunaga of Sunagakure was dead, Nobunaga of Kirigakure was yet to leave his mark on the world.