The cliffs of the Eastern Range towered like broken teeth, jagged and ancient, wrapped in a constant veil of mist and myth. Even among seasoned Leaf shinobi, this area was avoided when possible — not for the terrain, but the rumors.
It was said the land itself remembered things best left forgotten.
Team 14 traveled in silence along a narrow mountain path. Below them, clouds rolled in waves over the ravines. Above, birds circled, silent as ghosts. Kuro padded quietly at Rei's side, ears low.
No jokes from Rei.
No light conversation from Hinata.
Only the sound of wind scraping rock and the occasional shuffle of boots against the stone trail.
They arrived at the rendezvous point just after midday.
A small Leaf camp had been erected beneath the shadow of a crooked ridge. Tents. Supply crates. A handful of weary shinobi sitting in a tight circle. One of them stood as they approached.
A tall kunoichi with a scar running from her jaw to her temple. Her voice was sharp, clipped.
"Team 14, I assume?"
Takeshi nodded. "Status report?"
She didn't waste time.
"Three missions sent. One returned. The jonin squad never checked in. The last genin team… were found three days later. No chakra signatures. No wounds. Just lying in the dirt with their eyes open. Not dead."
Kaito's stomach twisted. "What does that mean—'not dead'?"
"They're breathing. But not responsive. Their minds are… locked. Like something reached in and pulled them out."
Hinata covered her mouth. "That's—"
"I've seen genjutsu before," the kunoichi said. "This isn't it."
Takeshi's eyes darkened. "Where?"
The kunoichi pointed east, toward a jagged staircase carved into the cliffs. "At the shrine. Half a mile up. We won't go closer without orders. You're the fourth team to try. We hope you'll be the first to come back with answers."
The climb to the shrine felt like walking into a memory not your own.
The stone steps had been worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain. Moss grew thick along the walls. Strange symbols — older than the Hidden Villages — were etched into the cliff face, faded with time but still humming faintly beneath the touch.
Rei brushed one with his fingertips. "These symbols… they're not just carvings. They're sealing marks."
Kaito crouched beside him. "Do you recognize any?"
"No. That's the problem."
Hinata activated her Byakugan. Her breath hitched.
"I'm seeing chakra inside the rock."
"What kind?" Takeshi asked.
She shook her head. "Wrong. Like it's sleeping. Or… watching."
The shrine itself emerged at the summit — a small structure of black stone, half-swallowed by ivy. It pulsed faintly, as if the stone were breathing. Around its base were talismans, old and crumbling, fluttering like dry leaves.
The moment Kaito stepped within ten feet of the gate, he felt it.
A pulse — like a heartbeat beneath the earth.
The wind stopped.
So did the noise.
So did his thoughts.
Just for a second.
Then the gate cracked open with a slow, aching groan.
Inside, it was darker than it should've been.
Kaito took the first step in.
The others followed, tense.
Inside, the shrine was a single chamber. No altar. No idol. Just walls covered in the same symbols as the cliffs — and in the center, a small circular basin filled with unmoving water.
Takeshi walked the perimeter, scanning for traps. Hinata kept her Byakugan active, jaw clenched.
Rei stayed near the door. Kuro growled low.
Kaito stepped toward the basin.
The water inside reflected nothing.
Not the ceiling.
Not his face.
Just darkness.
Then it rippled.
A voice rose from it, not loud, but ancient. Whispering in syllables Kaito didn't know — yet somehow understood.
"Storm-bearer… Seed of Tempest… Why do you wear another's name?"
Kaito's heart stilled.
The basin flashed. The air trembled.
Then Kaito was gone.
He stood again on that endless ocean from his dreams.
But this time, the mirror-self stood beside him — clearer now, like a twin forged in lightning.
"You're not ready," the reflection said. "But they're coming anyway."
"Who's coming?" Kaito asked. "Who am I?"
"You were stolen," the mirror-self said. "But the storm never forgets its own."
A roar split the sky above them. The clouds spiraled. The reflection looked up, eyes suddenly full of urgency.
"You must choose. The Hidden Leaf… or your bloodline."
Kaito's eyes widened. "What bloodline?"
But the world cracked apart before the answer came.
He collapsed backward into the real world with a choked gasp.
Hinata grabbed his shoulders. "Kaito!"
"I'm okay," he rasped. "I'm okay."
Rei crouched nearby. "You sure? Because your eyes were glowing. Like, actually glowing."
Takeshi narrowed his eyes. "We're leaving. Now."
They turned back toward the gate.
But the shrine had no exit.
The door was gone.
The walls had changed — now covered entirely in fresh symbols. The basin cracked. The air burned cold.
From the shadows, something stepped forward.
A figure in tattered robes. Face hidden beneath an old ANBU mask.
Voice like dust and thunder.
"You woke it too soon."
Kaito stood. "What is it?"
"The first storm," the figure whispered. "And it's hungry."
Then the stone shattered.