After taking the potion, they stepped into the desert, with Temari once again using her wind barrier to double-check their protection. Gaara, always vigilant, was the first to notice something off. As they walked, the sand suddenly shifted beneath them. Gaara's sand moved swiftly, pushing Temari's feet aside and placing them somewhere else.
"Traps," Gaara muttered.
Stepping forward, he raised his hand, creating a disturbance in the sand ahead of them. In an instant, the ground shook and toxic gas-like bombs exploded, sending a thick fog obscuring their view. More bombs followed, detonating across the horizon, their explosions stretching as far as the eye could see. Eventually, the fog cleared, revealing a lone figure in the desert.
The group began making their way toward it, and soon they found themselves face to face with the puppet. It looked almost human, but its mechanical nature was unmistakable.
Before they could make another move, the puppet shot out a barrage of needles. Gaara's sand reacted instinctively, parrying the attack and protecting the group. The puppet, however, was fast—too fast. It vanished from Kankuro and Temari's sight for a moment, but Gaara, ever sharp, noticed its movement. The puppet launched poison bombs, and Temari immediately countered by opening her fan just slightly, redirecting the bombs back.
But Gaara noticed something peculiar—when the puppet used chakra shields, he sensed a faint connection with Shukaku. It wasn't the usual feeling of hostility, but something more… familiar.
"Is that so? I want you all to stop attacking it!" Gaara suddenly yelled, his voice commanding and firm, as the sand around him rumbled in response.
Kankuro frowned. "Gaara, this isn't the time to act high and mighty. We need to work as a team!"
Gaara's expression softened, and he glanced at Kankuro, his voice gentle but resolute. "I understand, big bro Kankuro, but don't deny me this."
Kankuro froze. Gaara had called him "big bro," something he hadn't expected. Temari, ever perceptive, stood down, her trust in Gaara unwavering. She knew this was something Gaara needed to do.
Slowly, Gaara walked toward the puppet as it continued its relentless assault. But Gaara didn't retaliate. He simply blocked the attacks, letting his sand shield him, until he stood directly in front of the puppet.
As Gaara gazed at the puppet, he could feel the turmoil within. The desert winds seemed to hush as he spoke softly, his voice laced with the weight of his own past suffering.
"I know your pain. The solitude of the desert, the whispers in our minds... I understand. You sought to protect, to serve beyond your time, and so have I. But your duty is fulfilled. You need not suffer any longer."
Gaara extended his hand, and his sand, not to destroy but to comfort, wrapped around the puppet. The touch was gentle, almost maternal—something Gaara himself had been denied but understood in his own way.
"Let me carry on your will," Gaara continued, his voice steady and full of compassion. "Rest now. Be free from the shackles of this form. Your legacy will live on through me—the one who also understands the heart of Shukaku."
The puppet, moved by Gaara's words, ceased its struggle. The sand, once a weapon, now served as a cradle, slowly withdrawing as it released the puppet from its torment. Gaara's expression softened, his tear-streaked face reflecting the compassion he had rarely shown before.
As the last of the sand settled, the puppet was at peace. Gaara had not only subdued it but honored the spirit within, finding a kindred soul in its pain. With that, he wiped away a tear, standing in silent reverence, a quiet understanding passing between him and the desert winds.