"How did the Sovereign Colonies locate any hidden villages, let alone successfully infiltrate the Konoha Cryptanalysis Team? Those gaijin look nothing like natives of the Great Shinobi Nations. You especially would've stuck out like a sore thumb anywhere in the Land of Fire!"
The Marine Contra's eyebrow raises. "Is that so?"
'Well, perhaps not in the Land of Lightning, but that's a stretch even then.' The dying Anbu takes a drag of the cigarette resting in his mouth. "The barrier teams and automated sensing systems protecting our villages can detect an unregistered intruder via their chakra signature… hell, any sensor type worth their salt these days can spot someone using a transformation jutsu, no matter how sophisticated it is."
"Hmm, perchance demonstration will elucidate broader interpretation?" He uncrosses his arms, "Think of this technique as a complex adaptation of chakra absorption that extracts, then seals the target's soul within a host. Analogous in almost every way to how one creates a jinchūriki but from a different approach. Thus, the user gains all knowledge and abilities of their victim without resorting to cannibalism." The Contra chuckles. "You have no idea how fortunate we are that those damned Mujina socialists could not perfect this refined variant of the original kinjutsu." He speeds through a string of foreign hand seals. The shinobi almost mistakes the sequential blowback as a stray bullet soaring past his ear, "Corpse Clone Jutsu!"
The impious ritual is over in seconds. A dark figure stands within the incandescent haze; the dying Anbu's heart plummets into his stomach as excruciating realization banishes the air from his lungs, petrifying him. The interdimensional dust phases out of existence; Menma Namikaze, The Scarlet Terror, stands as youthful and vibrant as ever—a hideous transformation from inhumane bio-mechanical experimentation gone awry, a physical manifestation of humanity's sins and a slap across Mother Nature's face—to the quiet, handsome teen of days gone. His long blond hair, braided into a ponytail, settles below his waist.
For a moment—that… *thing* with Menma's bright, balmy blue eyes and fair, delicate skin appears gentle and innocent before distorting into the soulless uncanny gaze of a synthetic monstrosity corrupted through genetic augmentation. The shinobi stares in abhorrent disbelief, now comprehending the horrendous irony of this blasphemous covert conspiracy, scorning the unholy abomination as no more than a sick perversion of his nephew's memory.
PRESENT
A volley of kunai armed with explosive tags detonates the exterior surface of a burning skyscraper; Jimi Isra Malkhaz II, a genocidal war criminal, somersaults from the fireball into the structure and bolts down its collapsing corridors, "Let's attack aggressively…" Dilapidation permeates the interior along the war-torn walls; debris coats the ground in a smoldering grey sheet as smoke suffocates the hallway in a lingering haze. He rappels down a dysfunctional elevator shaft into the sub-basement, then hightails past the subsequent sewer tunnel. Several rapid reverberating taps in the water draw nearer; phantom-like silhouettes wearing pale porcelain masks appear in the darkness.
Jim vaults over the obstructions in his path while casting genjutsu (illusionary techniques) to hinder the Anbu. He scales the pipelines, jumping over the sewer canals to evade the sharp projectiles flying at him. He sidesteps a downward slash, countering with a swift barrage of light punches and palm strikes, targeting unarmored segments of an assailant's body. The dazed shinobi thrusts his tantō toward Jim's jugular. He dodges, grapples the Anbu's arm, and shatters his mask with an uppercut.
The war criminal drives his knee into the shinobi's abdomen, then knocks the doubled-over assassin unconscious with an elbow strike to the back of the head. He seizes the spinning tantō from the air before using the Body Replacement Technique (Substitution/Kawarimi no Jutsu) to circumvent another inbound assault. Jim reappears behind a kunoichi (female ninja), deflecting her follow-up attack with the short blade. He stumbles the woman with a prompt blow to her temple, then impales the assassin's wrist with the tantō; the fugitive twists her arm using the blade's handle, compelling the kunoichi to drop her kunai and bend forward.
He snatches the kunai, plunges it into the woman's shoulder, and thrusts his forearm into her elbow, dislocating it. She falls to her knees as the limb falls limp; the mass murderer pulls the tantō from the Anbu's wrists and decapitates her. He kicks the kunoichi's body into the sewer canal, then her head, lobbing it through the air.
An Anbu Captain ducks; however, the severed appendage knocks an adjacent shinobi into a drainage pipe mid-jump. "Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!" A blazing inferno erupts from her mouth; a fusillade of steel rain rushes out of the shadows in tandem.
The scorching heat soars against Jim's combat uniform. He cork-flips over the billowing flames and deflects the incoming kunai and shuriken; the war criminal lands on a suspension walkway and dashes for the generator room. He sabotages the hydraulic pressure controls. An alarm blares inside the facility, initiating the containment protocol. Jim ducks; a kunai sails over him before destroying the terminal.
Another kunoichi ambushes the fugitive; a brief skirmish ensues. Jim dodges and evades a vicious onslaught until he deflects her blade into the control panel, electrocuting the Anbu. The mass murderer roundhouse kicks her out an adjacent reception window and escapes, sliding beneath a closing floodgate. The assassins pursue him as the lights fade at the end of the maintenance tunnel; however, the water-tight barrier closes, sealing the Anbu in darkness. Deep growls and sibilant screeches turn to psychotic screams and wails echoing in the sewers bearing down upon them.
Jim leans against the floodgate, gasping for breath; approaching snarls and groans escalate to a loudening rumble and persistent howls of torment. He flees up a winding tunnel, struggling to find an exit. Straight ahead, a suspension walkway hangs above a bottomless cistern—water streams into the abyss from the outlets flanking the narrow path. Red sunlight radiates on a ladder at the cistern's radius, indicating his ascension from the darkness. He sprints down the walkway, blurring over a series of one-hand seals.
"Lightning Release: Synergistic Sabre!" A galvanic hue surges around the tantō. Jim cuts the suspension cables with a swipe of his arm, then leaps towards the ladder. The platform destabilizes. Pale, disfigured, blood-soaked arms and tentacles reach from the dark as the bridge collapses; the glowing eyes and flailing limbs wither into the void.
Near an industrial district, a sewer grate lifts, dragging over; he pulls himself onto the cracked pavement. The war criminal sits against a concrete traffic barrier before adjusting his glasses. An ominous wind howls through derelict skyscrapers; rusting metal creaks within the ruins like a groaning, restless spirit. Remnants of a raging inferno wither into crackling embers. Twilight casts its foreboding shadow over the war-torn metropolis as an eerie stillness smothers the atmosphere. The stench of death and burning flesh lingers in the air. Charred skeletons litter the seared streets while corpses drift in the boiling canals.
A receiver in Jim's ear emits a constant hiss; he places his index and middle finger on the device, but static renders the transmission inaudible. Ceaseless, droning grunts and hoarse monotone growls converge on his location. Half a dozen shuriken slip between the fugitive's fingers. He focuses on the shambling footsteps, then flings the bladed stars at the approaching silhouettes.
After images of metal bolstering with chakra whirls through the air before impacting soft, squishy flesh. Each obscure figure disappears in the smoke, hitting the ground in a throng of thumps and thuds. The mass murderer backs away as the staggering silhouettes continue lurching closer, becoming innumerable. He vaults over the traffic barrier, concealing himself in the black haze while creeping past the abandoned military vehicles toward a nearby government refuge. The forlorn building maintains its structural integrity despite bombings from a previous war.
He pushes a steel door; its rusting hinges screech and grind until they jam. The gap is too narrow to squeeze through, and debris inside prevents the entryway from opening further. A reflection in a cracked window steals his attention. A Red Zetsu crawls from an overturned truck.
Cancerous growths and extra limbs writhe upon its disfigured body as slimy flesh oozes from what remains of the skull over the creature's glowing eyes. Its face is indistinguishable from the rest of its neck, aside from its slack jaw and teeth. The smell of its mutating flesh makes Jim's stomach churn, which is all he can do to keep himself from vomiting. He regains composure, reloads his service pistol, and fires.
A chakra conducting round enhanced with nature transformation pierces the mutant shinobi's flak jacket. It flies backward onto the asphalt but gets right back up as if nothing happened. The frenzied Red Zetsu charges out of the smoke; the war criminal adjusts his aim and shoots the mutant's knee, severing it. Momentum overturns the abomination, tumbling it in midair.
The Red Zetsu crashes through the window; he shines a flashlight into the building, wondering, 'Where did it go!?' Regardless the cannibalistic ghoul becomes the least of his concerns; the low-pitch growls from the sewers escalate to undying moans of the damned echoing throughout the streets. Hundreds of glowing eyes appear in the black haze, moving closer and focusing on him. The bioluminescent orbs are within the skyscrapers, highways, armored vehicles, and ruins; faint groans soar to a perpetual blaring of deranged screams and undead wails.
The Red Zetsus emerge from the smoke. Their wounds are visible from afar: the bite marks on their bodies, the varying stages of decay, and gouges large enough to disturb a combat medic. Some are missing limbs, on fire, drenched in blood, or dragging themselves along the ground with their entrails exposed.
What's become of the military horrifies Jim. His former brothers-in-arms stampede after him, and he dives back into the broken window before the thickening hordes overwhelm him.
His flashlight unveils the zombie-like creatures charging from the darkness; he empties his sidearm's primary magazine, kneecapping any discernible contours. They force him into taijutsu (hand-to-hand combat); he evades and redirects each assailant, leveraging their inertia against them. The fugitive studies the mutant's movements and mannerisms, questioning their lack of variety, coordination, strategy, and any semblance of intelligence or lack thereof.
'Although the inhuman and additional extremities add a degree of unpredictability, repetition, and ineptitude, nullify these factors by telegraphing their attacks!' He spins upside down on his palms, knocking the abominations away with a torrent of revolving kicks. He topples the remaining Red Zetsu with a scissors takedown, switches to his handgun's secondary firing mode, and blasts a hole in its head.
He sprints past the lobby as more mutants stampede the corridors after him. He slams a nearby security gate; however, one of them crashes through an adjacent window, tackling him. It bites at his throat with its scabrous teeth. He escapes using substitution jutsu: Jim reappears, roundhouse, then heel kicks the abomination below and above the knee, lands a spinning axe kick, pivots low, and rears his leg in a wide arc toward its head; the Red Zetsu hurtles out a juxtaposing window.
Duel-wielding kunai, he approaches the zombie-like creatures rushing down the hallway at him. He sidesteps a marauding mutant, cleaves its vertebrae, then back-kicks it over a guardrail.
The mass murderer wall-flips over another Red Zetsu lunging at him; he shoves both kunai into the abomination's jugulars before kicking it down a flight of stairs.
Jim slices the next Red Zetsu's abdomen, spilling its intestines on the floor. He impales the mutant's heart with the kunai, slashes its throat, kicks the flesh-eating ghoul's legs from underneath it, and sends the abomination tumbling down the stairs into the prior Red Zetsu with a reverse-turning kick.
The endless hoards breach the gate, streaming into the halls. The war criminal sticks explosive tags to both kunai, throws them, and chains a set of hand seals.
"Kunai Shadow Clone Jutsu!" The kunai becomes a sharp metal cluster of needles piercing flesh and bone pin cushions. He breaks through another door, then kicks a wall locker down in front of it to use as a makeshift barricade. Disfigured limbs and tentacles breach the narrow window on the opening, forcing him to step back. He removes the wall panel from a ventilation shaft, dives into a basement, and bumps into a hanging carcass. Sections of the rattling basement door bulge and splinter; dust puffs from its frame, threatening to detach from the wall. Jim wastes no time shimmying into an adjacent sliding window.
The Red Zetsus swarm into the basement, biting and tearing into the decedent, dangling from a rope; a hand reaches from the window, brushing against his heel. The fugitive's eyes narrow at the rotting arm reaching and grabbing at him. He snatches the mutant's wrist with inhuman speed and strength, then casts the abomination toward a trash compactor in a cold, uninviting gap between decrepit buildings. It tries climbing over the aperture; a laser inches toward the cannibalistic fiend's forehead. Jim releases the trigger; ionized chakra surges from the prototype weapon.
The Red Zetsu's head explodes, dispersing blood, skull fragments, and brain matter around the alleyway; its body slides back down as steam emits from the end of the weapon's barrel. After activating the compacter, he walks away from the building, arming the explosive tags with a quick succession of hand seals. The mass murderer pauses; a neon sign brightens on a billboard, 'Andrade's Pump n' Dump Fuel Depot!?'
"Oh, come on!" with mere seconds until the explosive tags detonate, he sprints down the backstreets. Jim runs up the side of a wall, side-flips over a group of approaching mutants, then aims—with each shot, their skulls splatter into gory chunks. He grabs a wall-mounted flagpole, drives it through the remaining abomination's face, and takes cover.
The explosive tags on the kunai detonate, igniting the accumulating gas. Flames engulf the fuel depot; debris, then burning bodies fly out the windows, landing on the fuel tankers and gas pumps. Explosions erupt onto the streets, obliterating the Red Zetsus as they cram into the building. Ash and debris fly everywhere, covering him in a shroud of darkness. A dense mass slams between his shoulder blades, knocking him to the ground. He rolls over, then fires at a smoking head and torso, trying to take a bite out of his leg like a quarter-pounder.
The Red Zetsu's eyes project from their sockets, and its brain catapults in the air. The final superheated bolt of chakra obliterates the remainder of its skull, cauterizing the blood pouring from the mutant's shoulders. He kicks the headless torso away, yet it begins crawling toward him. He scrambles to his feet and rips a section of rebar from a ruined concrete wall before stomping on the torso to restrain it.
Blood gushes from its shredded neck as he applies pressure on the headless torso's back. The war criminal drives the rebar through its heart and pins it to the ground; however, the headless Red Zetsus stagger to their feet once more before lurching after him. He backs away, clamoring at the sheer absurdity that befalls him. A hand grabs his leg, stumbling him. He tries pulling his ankle from the torso's seared clutches, but a damp, squishy mass impacts the top of his helmet.
SQUISH
Blood then chunks of brain matter slide down the sides of Jim's head, plopping on the ground next to him. At his wit's end, he severs the torso's hand and pries the smoldering fingers from his ankle, yet it continues grabbing at him. He chucks it off in the distance; a faraway shriek succeeds the shattering glass, but his attention lies upon the approaching headless mutants.