"Deidara, get me up there quick! I've got a way to deal with that old hag!"
Deidara glanced down, his eyes narrowing at Karin.
"You? Seriously?" His face screamed disbelief.
In all her years with the Akatsuki, Karin had kept a low profile, rarely showing her skills. She'd been on the sidelines, mopping up grunts, so her sudden claim of a game-changing plan didn't exactly inspire confidence.
"I've got a jutsu that counters those needles perfectly. It works best from the air, so hurry up and fly me up!" Karin's voice carried a rare urgency.
Matron overheard and scoffed. "Big talk for a loudmouthed brat! Let's see you try to handle my Needle Dance!"
Kakuzu's emerald eyes flicked toward Karin, his attack rhythm subtly slowing.
A massive clay bird swooped down from the sky. Deidara grabbed Karin, tossing her onto its back.
"Quit yapping and show me what you've got, fast!"
"Got it, just give me a sec." Karin stood behind him, her response quick and confident.
Then—splurch!—Karin did something heart-wrenching, quite literally. Her hand plunged into Deidara's chest, warm and brutal.
"You—?!" Deidara's shock mixed with confusion as the clay bird wobbled, losing control.
"Sorry, I'm an undercover agent," Karin said, her tone dead serious. With a ruthless squeeze, she crushed his heart.
Deidara died, robbed of any chance to unleash his grand finale. It was a humiliating end.
Kakuzu, witnessing the betrayal, was equally stunned. He didn't waste a second, bolting for escape while shouting,
"Karin, you…!"
"Yup, I sold you out!" Karin grinned, plucking Deidara's head from his body and leaping off the bird, landing gracefully.
Deidara's corpse and the clay bird plummeted, splattering into a gruesome mess on the ground.
The three-on-one assault on Matron flipped to a two-on-one against Kakuzu.
Kakuzu unleashed his four elemental Earth Grudge Fear masks to cover his retreat. The Akatsuki had a mole—things were falling apart fast.
He didn't know the full scope of the conspiracy, but survival was his only goal. As long as he lived, he could rebuild.
Vascular patterns on Karin's human-skin cloak slithered outward, radiating an eerie beauty. From Karin as the epicenter, countless grotesque veins—sprouting mouths, limbs, and jagged teeth—burrowed into the earth, weaving through the soil to encircle the four masks.
The pulsing hearts within the Earth Grudge Fear became fodder for the cloak, their vitality greedily devoured. The masks withered, their forms shriveling.
Karin dispatched the external masks, while Matron, with ruthless efficiency, reduced Kakuzu to a corpse.
Curiosity got the better of them. They sliced open Kakuzu's body, only to gape in shock. It was barely a body—just a husk of skin. Organs, bones, and muscles were mostly gone, replaced by Earth Grudge Fear tendrils. Even his brain was deflated.
This wasn't Kakuzu so much as an Earth Grudge Fear creature with Kakuzu's memories—a grotesque possession.
"What a bizarre lifeform," Matron muttered. She bundled up the heartless Earth Grudge Fear remains, offering them as a sacrifice to her demonic patron. A collector's item, perfect for scamming folks in other dimensions. Sure, it looked freaky, but if it extended life, who cared about turning into a monster?
...
The battlefield lay in ruins from their clash. Matron held the heads of the three Akatsuki members, her gaze shifting to another fight raging nearby.
Sasori of the Red Sand felt a chill of killing intent. A flurry of needles shattered his Hiruko shell, and then he saw Matron, dangling the heads of three Akatsuki members.
Deidara's head sparked a flicker of emotion in Sasori, but Kakuzu and Hidan's fates? He couldn't care less.
To chase the eternal beauty of puppetry, Sasori had transformed his own body into a puppet.
"Matter shapes consciousness, and consciousness reshapes matter"—this philosophy defined him.
Human emotions, driven by hormones, faded without a flesh-and-blood body. Like ghosts in horror tales, who cling only to their strongest emotions (often hatred), Sasori's feelings dulled.
Yet his core, the regeneration nucleus, held faint ties to his past: his parents, lost too young; Granny Chiyo; and maybe, just maybe, a spot for Deidara.
If Deidara knew how much he meant to Sasori, he'd probably be thrilled.
Too bad he'd never find out.
No pointless banter passed between Sasori and Matron. With a flick of his fingers, the discarded Hiruko shell exploded, unleashing a storm of poisoned senbon toward her.
"You're begging for death!" Matron's lips curled into a cold sneer. A barrage of her own needles shot out, meeting Sasori's in midair.
Her Needle Dance was her signature, and she'd be damned if anyone stole her style.
Sasori had to die.
The air rang with the clang of colliding needles. Matron's qipao fluttered, her expression icy. After the first probing exchange, she unleashed another wave of embroidery needles, blanketing the sky.
Sasori's puppet body betrayed no emotion. His hands clapped, summoning a black coffin through a summoning jutsu.
The coffin lid flew open, and a torrent of black iron sand roared out, surging toward Matron.
"I've got more than just Needle Dance!" Matron's double eyelids twitched as she plucked a hairpin from her head.
She slashed forward, the air tearing like paper. A spatial rift opened, swallowing the iron sand into oblivion.
"Someone out there, save me…" A hoarse cry echoed from the rift, but it sealed shut moments later.
"Was that Obito's voice?" Sasori thought fleetingly, dismissing it. He pressed the attack, manipulating his Third Kazekage puppet.
Matron swung the hairpin again, ripping another spatial tear—this time right behind the Third Kazekage.
Crack!
The puppet's body splintered, spiderweb cracks spreading across its frame…
----------------
Pls Drop some Power Stones
Fanfic is finished on Patreon (160 chapters in total.)
Patreon(.)com/Jixo (for only $4.50, read this entire fanfic)