But First, Devotion!

Deep in the Land of Hot Springs, the ominous Temple of Jashin looms against a sky forever shrouded in dark, brooding clouds. Dark stone edifice towers malevolently above the barren, rocky landscape, a sinister monolith with edges jagged, angles sharp enough to match its evil presence. Almost as though dreading what lay inside, the ground about it seemed to recoil at such wickedness.

The outer walls of the temple are decorated with symbols of Jashin, cut deep into the stone and painted with a dark, blood-red pigment that seems to glisten in the dim light. Heavy iron chains wrap their way around the structure, binding it in an almost grotesque embrace, while towering spires reach skyward like skeletal fingers clawing at the heavens.

Twisted iron sconces, holding flickering torches high into the air, cast an eerie, wavering light across their surface, the tongues of the flame sickeningly colored, burned in a sickly green. In front stands a huge, weather-beaten door shut and littered with ancient runes and ritualistic carvings. The door pulsates with this dark energy, resonating with the whispered prayers and agonizing cries from those who sought out Jashin's favor on this ground.

Above it, a large, unblinking eye has been carved into the stone, watching all who approach with a gaze that feels both judgmental and indifferent. The area around it is completely empty; only the wizened, wavy trees bordering the path that is laid out straight in front of the temple give this location a somewhat lively look. The branches of these trees, bare and blackened, twist in agony as if caught in an eternal struggle, their agony almost personifying the cruel nature of the temple itself.

The ground is bestrewn with the remains of some bygone sacrifice, rubbish bones, broken weapons eaten up with rust, rotted vestiges of offerings; all let lie under the pitiless open sky. Then a deadly silence would hang in the air, broken only by the faint, far-off echoes of chanting that seemed to seep from the stones of the temple.

Incense is in the heavy air, mellowed by the mingling of a faint metallic tang from blood into something heady and intoxicating. With every step closer to the temple, one could feel as though they were crossing over a threshold into another dimension, one where death was not an end but a gateway to something far darker. The temple itself, old and weather-worn, still stands as a testament to Jashin's unwavering followers: a place where the line between life and death blurs, the promise of rebirth through sacrifice luring in the desperate and the damned alike.

Raiden shimmered into view, the familiar pull of his Instant Transmission technique dissolving, and he manifested in the twilight. The sky above was of deep purple and dusky blue, an omen foreboding that fit his purpose. He stood not far from the ancient and ominous temple that loomed ahead. It was a monolith structure of dark stone with towering spires that pierced the sky like jagged teeth. Shadows clung to its surface and somehow made the temple seem alive with a presence that was menacing yet alluring.

Raiden took a deep breath and began to march towards the temple. Step after step, with deliberation, he measured through the roughness of stone polished smooth by time. The smell of earth and decay hung in the air.The weight of his purpose lay heavy upon his shoulders, like an oppressive shroud, and he would not be swayed from it. He’d come to this place to bind his soul to this place, to the god Jashin. In return, he seeks what few dare ask: a second chance at life if this current path of his should lead him to his end.

Before the doors of the temple Raiden would stop, standing there, staring. From out outsiders perspective Raiden was a rather imposing figure with a commanding presence about him. Since making certain changes, and partaking of certain things while being within the walls of Yugure, Raiden had undergone changes that changed him even since his time in Sungakure. Raiden had cut his hair of his own accord. However his hair stayed its ever same silver, platinum blonde, depending upon the light in which you caught it. Since cutting his hair, his hair liked to spike up of its own accord. Framing his face with disheveled elegance. Each strand seemingly having their own life and going their own path since being freed from the weight of gravity.

Raiden's eyes had deepened to a darker shade of blue, like a pair of sapphires, becoming even more like the Ametsuchi's of old, since now of days the ones from either branch seemingly had a reversed effect having happened to them since the days of old. The gemstone like orbs set below slightly arched brows that enhanced a stern and contemplative expression. Raiden's Skin having an almost Etheral hue to it already, the macabe setting around him, let alone his choice of clothing really set it off, making him truely looked like the ghost he felt like.

Raiden's Attire being that of several layers, reflecting a shinobi who once lived both in the desert and constantly living amongst the shadows. Raiden Currently wore a mask that made his face appear more angular, and sat upon his cheekbones, just underneath his eyes, right across the bridge of his nose. It trapped warm air against his skin, but it helped to keep out the smaller particulates that floated in the air for the most part. This was Raiden, he liked to be functional with his dress, and did not care about the over all look of the attire.

As he approached the great doors of the temple, they creaked open as if they knew he was coming. Inside, the air was heavy with incense and just the faintest odor of something metallic: blood, perhaps, but he could not see any to be sure. The scarce light emanating from the few torches mounted on the walls lengthened the shadows, giving the space even more of an eerie feeling.

Stepping inside the Temple of Jashin, the atmosphere shifts from oppressive to almost suffocating, as if the air itself is thick with the weight of countless rituals performed within these walls. The interior is dimly lit, with only the flickering light of torches mounted on the walls casting long, wavering shadows that seem to dance and writhe with a life of their own. The torches burn with an eerie greenish flame, illuminating the space with a ghostly glow that barely penetrates the pervasive darkness.

The walls are made of the same dark stone as the exterior, but here they are covered with intricate carvings that depict scenes of sacrifice, bloodshed, and the veneration of Jashin. These carvings are not just decorative; they are etched with a disturbing precision, each figure and symbol infused with a sense of agony and reverence. The stone beneath the carvings is stained, as if the very walls have absorbed the blood of those who have perished here.

The main chamber is vast, its ceiling towering above and lost in shadow. The floor is a mosaic of black and crimson tiles arranged in complex, spiraling patterns that converge at the center of the room. Here, a massive altar stands, its surface slick with a dark, viscous substance that glistens ominously in the torchlight. The altar is hewn from the same dark stone, but its edges are jagged and sharp, as if designed to inflict pain on those who approach it. Around the altar, iron chains hang from the ceiling, their ends tipped with wickedly sharp hooks, evidence of their use in countless rituals.

Surrounding the altar are tall, iron candelabras, each holding multiple candles that burn with a black flame, casting unnatural shadows that seem to twist and contort into nightmarish shapes. The air is heavy with the scent of burning incense, mixed with the unmistakable stench of blood and decay. The floor is slick in places, the remnants of past sacrifices left to dry and stain the stone.

In the corners of the chamber, hooded statues stand sentinel, each holding a weapon or symbol of death. Their faces are hidden beneath their cowls, but their presence is unnerving, as if they are watching, waiting for the next offering. The statues are adorned with necklaces of bones, and their hands are outstretched, palms upward, as if ready to receive something—perhaps a soul.

Beyond the main chamber, narrow corridors lead deeper into the temple, their walls lined with more carvings and ancient runes that glow faintly with a sinister light. These passages twist and turn, leading to smaller chambers where initiates might meditate or prepare for their own dark rituals. Each room has its own altar, smaller but no less ominous, and the walls are lined with shelves filled with ancient scrolls, vials of unknown substances, and ritualistic tools, all carefully arranged for easy access.

In the deepest part of the temple lies the sanctum, a place of ultimate reverence and fear. Here, the ceiling is lower, and the walls are closer, giving the room a claustrophobic feel. The sanctum is dominated by a massive statue of Jashin, depicted as a fearsome, skeletal figure, arms outstretched as if to embrace those who come before it. The statue’s eyes are empty voids, yet they seem to follow any who enter the room, judging and condemning them with their hollow gaze.

Before the statue, a large basin is set into the floor, filled with a dark, thick liquid that reflects the room like a twisted mirror. This is where the final sacrifices are made, where the most devout followers of Jashin offer themselves completely, their blood mingling with that of countless others in the basin below. The air here is colder, almost freezing, and the sense of dread is palpable, as if the very presence of Jashin is near, waiting to claim what is his.

The interior of the Temple of Jashin is a place where the line between life and death is thin, where the very stones seem to pulse with dark energy, and where the promise of rebirth through sacrifice is both a lure and a curse. It is a place of fear, devotion, and inevitable doom, where those who enter do so with the knowledge that they may never leave.

His hand slipped into the pouch at his waist, his fingers brushing the cool metal of the ryo he had set aside for this very moment. He could feel the ryo in his hand as he approached the large donation plate, an ornate bowl engraved with symbols that seemed to shift and writhe when looked upon directly. Not stopping, he flicked the ryo into the plate. The clink from the coins was loud, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty hall.

The weight of the coins triggered a hidden mechanism. The plate depressed slightly, and with that, the deep rumbling noise filled the temple as a section of the floor shifted, revealing a secret passageway going downward. There was that brief second when Raiden could still turn around, but he had decided way before that. Steeling himself, he descended into the darkness. The passageway was narrow and pitch-black inside, with both walls feeling cold and moist when touched. Raiden placed his hands on either side, using them to guide himself as he walked deeper into the temple’s bowels. The darkness was oppressive; it pressed in upon him from every angle, but Raiden pressed on, his mind fixed on the task ahead. He felt the air becoming heavier and denser after each step, as though he were descending to the very heart of the earth.

A few minutes later, the corridor opened into a very big chamber. The first thing that Raiden saw was a statue. A disgusting and horrible face that could be no other than Lord Jashin. It was huge, and its features were twisted and malevolent.

Jashin’s eyes seemed to follow Raiden as he moved forward, glowing faintly in the dim light. The god’s mouth was twisted into a cruel sneer, his hands outstretched as if to grasp at the souls of those who dared enter his domain.

In front of the statue lay a simple, age-worn, and sun-faded pillow. Raiden knew this was where he was supposed to kneel, to offer himself to the god he sought to serve. He approached the pillow with reverence, lowering himself onto it. The cold stone floor beneath it caused a shiver in his entire frame; he ignored it and thought of the statue instead. He closed his eyes, bowing his head as he waited for something to happen. Minutes ticked by into the silence in which he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Doubts began creeping in, slipping into Raiden’s mind just like the insidious whispers. What if this was all for nothing? What if Jashin ignored him and left him to his fate alone? The thought ate at him, but he pushed it down with resolve, not willing to let fear control him.

Time ticked by in silence; only the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart sounded in his ears. Raiden’s mind started to drift with misgivings that crept in like insidious whispers. What if it was all for nothing? What if Jashin simply passed him by, this was a fate he had to face? He gnawed at that thought but shook his head as if trying to rid himself of its intrusion; he refused to give in to fear.

Just as he was about to give up, to stand and leave, a voice rang out in his mind, a voice he hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime. “It’s about time you grew a set of balls,” the voice of Nike sneered, the familiar tone laced with mocking. “I wondered if you would ever turn around and face the past that hounded you like a damn dog.”

Raiden’s breath caught in his throat, surprised, and a strange sense of nostalgia washed over him. He hadn’t heard from Nike in so long, almost having forgotten what it was like to listen to that voice. He opened his mouth to respond, but Nike cut him off before he could speak. “Before now, your father would have been somewhat disappointed in you and your choices. But you deciding to take a stand, hell, boy, even if you’re making something happen to ensure a second life, your father had that amethyst synthetic body-looking thing, had no room to judge on something like this. But turning around and facing your past, damning the consequences either way. That your father would be behind you with one hundred percent. About damn time, boy.

The words hit Raiden like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t expected Nike to talk about his father, let alone in a manner that offered some twisted form of encouragement. Raiden had spent so long distancing himself from his past, from the pain and the mistakes, that hearing this acknowledgment felt surreal. Why now, after so long, did Nike decide to speak? And why talk about his father at a time like this?

As his mind whirled, trying to take in the fact that the sprite had abruptly reappeared, the truth slowly started to dawn on Raiden. This was the time, the moment life would change forever. He knew he was making a choice to come back to life, but he knew it was marching himself right back to death. The irony was almost laughable. He sought a second chance, but what would he do with it? Just march himself back into the same fate? Squander it like he did the first?

As Raiden remembered cheating death once before, his thoughts spiraled deeper into the dark. This may have been a doomed endeavor from the start, a fruitless attempt at escape from an inescapable fate. Doubt clawed at him, and he began to question everything: the ritual, his devotion, his very existence.

But then something snapped inside of him. He was not the same person he used to be; he wasn’t that man who cowered in fear before his past, who ran from his mistakes. He was Raiden Ametsuchi, and he had chosen this path with full knowledge of what it entailed. He wouldn’t allow fear or doubt to control him any longer.

With new determination, Raiden finally spoke back to Nike within his mind. “Good to hear from you again, Nike. Thank you…for the kind words. I can only hope that I continue to make the choices that not only you would agree with, but that would make my father proud.” As he said the words, something shifted inside him, a calmness settling over his turbulent thoughts.

And then everything seemed to fall away. The temple, the statue, and the cold stone beneath him all melted into a void. It was like a dream, yet Raiden knew he was not asleep. This was something much different, something far more unreal.

The statue of Jashin was in front of him once more, but something was different. There were no temple walls or floors, just the statue floating in the darkness. Raiden looked around; there was nothing else, no sound, no light, nothing but him and the god he sought to serve.

Then, out of the blue, pictures started to flicker before his eyes. Scenes of his past in a rapid show, each one more vivid and painful than the previous one. All the mistakes he had buried so deep, hoping never to have to face them again, were seen. This was just as Mizu had warned him; Jashin was putting him to the test, forcing him to confront his past.

The first of those was that day he lost himself against Isshin Uchiha, taking the life of the other Konoha shinobi in a fit of rage, having seen how his brothers tried to stop him, watched them injure each other in their attempts to prevent him. He felt guilty then; he was ashamed; he had carried it around with him since. He had been Adam back then, which seemed so far away now, as though it was not even his anymore.

The next one was worse, the day he had tried to form an alliance with Kiranomo and Kiru Uzumaki. He had, on this day, hidden away in Kiru’s dimension after escaping from the coffin his father had tried to burn him alive in all because he couldn’t control his anger because he had become an alcoholic. That day, the memory still stung; it was a thorn reminding him just how low he had sunk. Raiden had sworn off drinking after that, fearing he would become the same man again if he ever touched a drop.

Then there was the coming back when he had tracked down every lead and connection to his past with desperate hopes of finding something about family. He had discovered a new place to call home and new people to call family, but it all lay crumbling before him now that he had gotten the news. Naki, a close companion, had died in the jail cells of Konohagakure. Kaito, his brother in all but blood, had founded a village with their old Kazekage, Guren, a man Raiden had grown to respect.

But the fact that Kaito had been gone so long had caused the village to dissolve, and Raiden had felt the pain of that loss more profound than any other. The memories continued to swirl around Raiden, each one a painful reminder of the person he had been, the choices he had made, and the consequences that had followed. He saw himself standing on the precipice of despair, ready to give up, to let the world swallow him whole. But something had always pulled him back, an unwavering determination, a spark of defiance against the darkness.

The final memory was the most recent, the one that had brought him to this very moment. He saw himself standing in the ruins of his village, the place he once called home, now reduced to ash and rubble. He remembered the rage that had consumed him, the overwhelming desire for vengeance that drove him to seek out Jashin. He had been willing to sacrifice everything, his soul, his life, his very being, for a chance to set things right, to punish those responsible for the destruction of all he held dear.

As the memory faded, Raiden found himself back in the void, staring once more at the statue of Jashin. This time, the god’s expression had changed. The sneer was gone, replaced by a look of cold, calculating interest. Raiden felt the weight of Jashin’s gaze upon him as if the god were peering into the depths of his soul, weighing his worth, his conviction.

The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, until finally, Jashin spoke. The voice was not like Nike’s; it was deep, resonant, and filled with an ancient power that made the very air around Raiden vibrate. “You seek a second chance, mortal. You offer your soul to me, hoping for a reprieve from the death that awaits you. But tell me, why should I grant you this boon? What makes you worthy of my favor?”

Raiden hesitated only for a moment before he spoke, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “I offer myself to you, Lord Jashin, not out of fear of death but out of a desire to continue my mission. There is unfinished business, and my death would leave it incomplete. I seek to right the wrongs that have been done, to bring justice to those who have wronged me and my people. If you grant me your favor, I will serve you without question, without hesitation. I will carry out your will, no matter the cost.”

Jashin was silent, considering Raiden’s words. The void seemed to grow colder, the darkness pressing in closer as if the god were testing his resolve, probing his mind for any sign of doubt or weakness. But Raiden stood firm, his heart steady, his mind clear. He had made his choice, and he would see it through to the end, whatever that end might be.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jashin spoke again. “Very well, Raiden Ametsuchi. I shall grant you the second chance you seek. But know this: your soul now belongs to me. You will serve me in life and in death, and there will be no escape, nor reprieve. If you fail me, if you falter in your devotion, I will claim what is mine. Do you accept these terms?”

Raiden didn’t hesitate. “I accept.”

Before he could even finish his recitation, there was an instant of pure emptiness, and then light exploded without warning. It felt like Raiden’s chest was ripped in two, like burning hot knives turning his very soul inside out. His lungs filled, and for a moment, the agony was swallowed by the light. The pain was excruciating, more horrible than anything he had ever felt, worse than his anticipation and dread of it, but still, he knew this was his fate, and he’d chosen it.

The light had faded almost as quickly as it had materialized, and when Raiden opened his eyes, he was back in the temple, kneeling before the statue of Jashin. But for some reason, he felt different. Stronger, far fresher than he had in years. All that weighed down on him – the shame, the guilt – the encumbrances of the past, was gone. In its place was purpose. A clarity of vision. Something he hadn’t felt or experienced in a very long time.

Raiden got up. He seemed much lighter, much more substantial. He looked at the statue of Jashin, and he felt, for the first time, that he belonged to the god, that he was a part of the god’s pain and sacrifice. He knew that things would be problematic from now on, that this was just the beginning. He was ready.

Bowing once more to the statue, Raiden turned and walked back the way he’d come. The shadows parted for him as he passed, and soon enough, he found himself back at the temple’s entrance. The sky was darker now – the stars looking down from their perch in the heavens, this change in light as Raiden exited the temple with his new status as a servant of Jashin, perhaps allowing him to finally see what had been there all along.

Raiden took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs. He felt reborn, renewed, with a clear sense of purpose. There was much to do, and he would waste no time in doing it. Whether Lady Mizuki was waiting for him or not, whether he faced his enemies alone or with allies, Raiden knew that he would succeed. He had been given a second chance, and he would not squander it.

With that thought in mind, Raiden began his journey toward the next chapter of his life, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. He knew that he was now more than just a man; he was a warrior reborn, a servant of Jashin, and nothing would stand in his way.

Raiden stepped out of the Temple of Jashin, feeling the cool breeze of the outside world brush against his skin. The ancient structure behind him now felt more like a sanctuary, a place where his soul had been fortified and his path clarified. He had emerged with a renewed sense of purpose but also with a deeper understanding of the consequences and challenges that lay ahead.

In his hands, he held two items of significance, a Helm and a Katana. These were no ordinary artifacts; they had materialized within the temple as if they were a gift or perhaps a test. He wasn’t sure yet, but there was a sense of latent power within them that intrigued him. For now, he placed them within the safety of his Re-quip dimension, a space where only he could access them at will. They would be examined later when time allowed, but for now, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

The Katana was not much of an item to brag about. It was mostly adorned with a dark and sinister motif , something to represent the very Lord to whom it seemed to be a gift from, While the Helm seemed to be a bit more interesting. A Helm of white and red at the very moment, with horns on either side, The horns seemed sharp, and when Raiden held it, the helm seemed receptive to chakra, as if it was not as much a armor as it was more of a Weapon to be utilized. This could be something to utilize.

As Raiden’s eyes scanned the surroundings, he found himself faced with two potential paths. If Lady Mizuki was waiting for him, he would follow her lead without question. Her presence would dictate his next move, and he was prepared to assist her in whatever mission she deemed necessary. He had his own thoughts and assumptions; perhaps they would be heading towards Sunagakure, a place that held significance for both of them. If she mentioned Sunagakure, he would ensure they approached the village with caution, taking the safest route to the borders.

However, if she was not there if she had chosen to remain in Yugure or had other matters to attend to, Raiden knew his journey would lead him to Konohagakure. His ultimate destination was the Land of Fire, where he would confront the demon known as Aokidonza. The whispers he had heard about this man had unsettled even the most hardened shinobi. How could someone evoke such fear? Raiden needed to face this challenge head-on; it was the only way to end the turmoil that had plagued him for so long.

In the past, the thought of confronting Aokidonza filled Raiden with dread. The unknown nature of this enemy, combined with the weight of his past failures, had created a sense of trepidation that was hard to shake. But now, after his encounter with Jashin, something within him had changed. The fear was still there, lingering like a shadow, but it was tempered by a new sense of calm. He knew that no matter what happened, he had a contingency plan, a second chance at life, should his current one fail. This knowledge brought him a strange peace, like the eye of a storm.

Raiden’s thoughts drifted back to the items he had stored in his Re-quip space. The Helm and Katana were tangible representations of his commitment to Jashin, but they were also tools, potential keys to unlocking new strengths or surviving the battles to come. He knew he would have to test them, to learn their secrets and see how they could be integrated into his existing arsenal. But another thought gnawed at him, should he share this knowledge with Lady Mizuki? Should he tell her everything he had learned, everything he had experienced?

There was much he had uncovered during his time away from the safety of Yugure. The revelations bestowed upon him by Lord Jashin had given him a new perspective on life and death, on power and purpose. He had felt a profound peace within the temple, a peace that came from knowing he wasn’t walking a path of destruction without hope. But sharing these revelations was a different matter. Lady Mizuki was a powerful shinobi in her own right, but Raiden wasn’t sure how she would react to the choices he had made.

Should he burden her with the knowledge that he had essentially traded his soul for another shot at life? Would she understand, or would she see him as a man who had taken a step too far into the darkness? Raiden exhaled slowly, releasing the last vestiges of doubt that clung to him. Whatever her reaction, he would face it with resolve, as he had faced every other challenge in his life.

Raiden’s mind also circled back to the practical implications of his new pact with Jashin. He had been granted a second chance, but it came with conditions. His knowledge would remain intact, but his new body would require retraining. All the muscle memory, the reflexes, and the precise chakra control he had honed over the years they would need to be rebuilt from scratch. He had to be prepared for that eventuality, to train himself once again as if he were a novice.

To safeguard against the loss of his techniques, Raiden had written down the secrets of his most powerful jutsu and combat strategies. These scrolls, now safely stored within his Re-quip dimension, would serve as a guide for whoever might need them in the future: his family, his allies, perhaps even a new generation of shinobi. He didn’t want his legacy to vanish with his final death.

Yet, there was something more that Raiden had to confront. The items from Jashin’s temple, the scrolls of his techniques, and the looming encounter with Aokidonza all pointed to a singular truth: Raiden was not the same man he had been before. He had changed, evolved, and, in some ways, he had become something else entirely. This transformation wasn’t just physical; it was spiritual, emotional, and even philosophical. And that realization brought him back to Lady Mizuki.

If she were there waiting for him, he would have to decide, would he tell her everything? Would he reveal the nature of the power that now coursed through him, the deal he had struck, the second life he was promised? Or would he keep these things to himself, carrying the weight of his choices alone? He didn’t know what the future held, but he knew one thing for certain: whatever path he took, he would walk it with conviction.

As Raiden stood at the threshold of the temple, the horizon stretching out before him, he felt the last remnants of doubt dissolve. The world awaited him; whether it was Sunagakure, Konohagakure, or a confrontation with the demon Aokidonza, he would face it with the strength and resolve that had brought him this far. With one last look at the temple behind him, Raiden turned and began to walk forward, each step echoing with the newfound power and purpose bestowed upon him by Lord Jashin.

Current WC 5410/5000 For Binding to Temple -30k Ryo (9,325 Ryo Remaining) Discard Remaining 410 Words

EXIT Conditions Depending upon if Mizuki replys to this thread, If She does, than IT To Land of Wind Boarders, If she does not Reply within 72 Hours than Exit to Land of Fire Boarders

Raiden Ametsuchi wrote:

Current WC 5410/5000 For Binding to Temple -30k Ryo (9,325 Ryo Remaining) Discard Remaining 410 Words

EXIT Conditions Depending upon if Mizuki replys to this thread, If She does, than IT To Land of Wind Boarders, If she does not Reply within 72 Hours than Exit to Land of Fire Boarders

Approved!

Just to Note: Since Mizuki never posted, the Exit is for Land of Fire