At the very same time Itachi and Sarutobi Hiruzen launched their attack on the City of Peace, the Akatsuki also began to move.
Night had fallen, and the evening wind carried a slight chill.
In a canyon a hundred li from the Daimyō's estate in the Land of Wind, a sudden gust of wind kicked up fine sand, scattering it through the air—only to collide unexpectedly with a ripple in space shaped like a whirlpool.
A figure wearing an orange mask with a single eyehole slowly emerged.
It was Uchiha Obito.
After departing from the Land of Rain, he had raced all the way to the Land of Wind. The Tailed Beasts needed to be sealed into the Gedo Statue in a specific order, so retrieving the One-Tail as quickly as possible was critical.
The One-Tail was a unique case. With Obito's space-time jutsu and White Zetsu's stealth abilities, they could quietly extract the container housing the beast without alerting anyone—making this mission perfectly suited to him.
"Where's the White Zetsu stationed near the Daimyō's estate? Why isn't he here to meet me?" A flicker of unease passed through Obito's eye.
He waited for a while, but there was still no sign of White Zetsu. With a snort, he twisted the space around him and slipped back into his dimension, heading straight for the Daimyō's estate.
White Zetsu might be an idiot, but he rarely screwed up major operations. Something must have gone wrong.
Now Obito had no choice but to investigate the One-Tail's whereabouts on his own. He couldn't afford to back down—he was posing as Uchiha Madara, after all. If he couldn't even capture the One-Tail, that mask of his would get ripped right off.
As he made his way forward, all he saw was sand and gravel. No birds, no insects, not even the faintest sign of life. The silence was oppressive.
Obito licked his dry lips and stayed on high alert. Ever since Sasuke had beaten the hell out of him, his confidence had taken a serious hit. He no longer swaggered around relying solely on Kamui; now, he was cautious at every turn.
When he reached the outskirts of the Daimyō's estate, Obito quietly exited the Kamui dimension and stepped onto the gravelly ground. The faint crunch beneath his feet rang out sharply in the deserted city.
As the central hub of the Land of Wind, the Daimyō's estate should have been lively and bustling. Instead, it looked like a ruin—crumbling streets, rusted buildings, abandoned houses, cracked pavement. A few stubborn weeds clung to life in the crevices. The whole place had the eerie air of a ghost town.
In the shinobi world, the eye of the storm had always been Konoha and the Land of Fire. That's where everyone's attention went. The changes in Sunagakure and the Land of Wind had always been subtle—like frogs slowly boiling in water. Aside from the recent shock when they followed the Land of Fire in abolishing the shinobi village system, most of what happened here had remained mysterious.
"What the hell happened in the Land of Wind?" Obito muttered, frowning as he began searching for clues about Gaara and the One-Tail.
At the center of the city stood a luxury skyscraper. The glass doors were slightly ajar, spiderweb cracks running across them like they'd shatter at the slightest touch.
Remaining alert, Obito gently pushed the doors open.
Creaaak— Dust floated down in sheets.
He paused, waiting. When nothing came lunging out at him, he cautiously stepped inside.
The first floor looked normal. On the second and third floors, the open rooms were full of scattered papers. Chairs and coffee tables lay under a thick layer of dust. From the looks of it, this had once been an office building, now long abandoned.
Just as Obito reached the fourth floor, a strange rustling sound reached his ears.
His body tensed instantly—if anything seemed off, he was ready to activate Kamui.
Seconds passed...
Obito didn't move, but the tension in his muscles suddenly eased. A lazy smile curled at the corners of his mouth, like he'd come home.
"Wait... no. Something's wrong with me!"
In the blink of an eye, his expression turned pale. He fought against the unnatural sense of comfort surging through him, then immediately retreated into Kamui's dimension, unwilling to press on.
Gasping for breath, it took him a long moment to recover. Then he turned and left the building.
He was here to capture a Tailed Beast—not explore a haunted city. After Sunagakure was dissolved, its shinobi had reportedly relocated to the Daimyō's estate. But what he saw now was completely at odds with the rumors.
There weren't just no shinobi—there weren't even people.
"This place is seriously messed up..." Obito cursed under his breath as he stepped into another building.
The moment he entered, his face changed.
There, in the center of the room, lay a massive ball of flesh.
It was so large it filled nearly a third of the space. Strange, colorful moss covered the floor, and countless pulsing red veins connected the moss to the meatball. Its surface was riddled with grotesque, human-like facial protrusions—disgusting and horrifying.
The moment Obito laid eyes on it, he was overcome with an inexplicable warmth, like he was seeing his great-grandmother again. He felt an overwhelming urge to throw himself into it and merge with the meatball.
What the hell is this nightmare?!
He stumbled back in alarm, keeping his distance. But the meatball didn't move—seemingly asleep.
What now?
These emotion-altering meatballs seemed to be everywhere. Obito encountered several more as he explored. If White Zetsu had been around, he could've used him as bait to test them. As things stood, Obito had no choice but to avoid them and hope they wouldn't react if left alone.
Continuing his investigation, Obito found more and more meatballs.
"These freaky things really know how to pick their spots... They've taken over all the nice buildings. Don't tell me the people here got eaten by monsters...?"
Time slipped by, and Obito was growing impatient. Though he hadn't run into any danger, he hadn't found Gaara or the One-Tail either.
The sun was just beginning to rise when disaster struck.
The meatballs... hatched.
One by one, full-grown humans crawled out of them—eyes rolled back, movements stiff and mechanical. They moved quickly, each heading to a preordained location. And when the sun fully crested the horizon...
They became "normal people."
The ghost town came alive again—noisy, bustling, full of laughter. People filled the streets, smiling brightly. Even several White Zetsus mingled among them, acting solemn and cheerful in turn, everything eerily orderly.
They had no memory of who they were. It was as if they'd become puppets, acting out a script—rising at dawn, sleeping at dusk, trapped in an endless cycle.
Hidden in the shadows, Obito watched in horror. He felt cold seep into his bones.
If he hadn't fought off that strange emotional pull... would he have become one of them?
Before long, he saw Gaara.
He rode through the streets like a king, escorted by a full ceremonial guard. Wherever he passed, people sang his praises in chorus, voices full of reverence.
Obito was stunned.
Could all of this be Gaara's doing?
Was his goal really... to trap a city full of people and force them to praise him in endless, hollow adoration?
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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