The Grey Beret's (Anbu) eyebrows raise in morbid curiosity, contemplating the significance of the Marine Contra's phraseology. A gradual yet appalling rivulet of revelations further inundates him with grief. However, the general methodology of Jim's machinations eludes Crane. Aware that subsequent elucidation will bestow further turmoil upon what remains of his decaying humanity, distress compels him to inquire into Menma's undoing: "Pray, tell. What manner of transgression has befallen my late nephew?"
"It was a means to an end, and we're both aware of how ends justify a means." The mass murderer smothers the cigarette stub beneath his boot, "I assure you, comrade Namikaze was a victim of circumstance and not the initial objective."
The medical-nin's eyes narrow at the object of his ire, "Victim of circumstance?"
"The Sovereign Colonies used commando units for skirmishes and raids against the Land of Fire as a diversion. Their primary target was the Namikaze compound. According to our Intel, they were a clan of merchants with ties to the Uzumaki royal family who were proficient in fūinjutsu. Most were too hazardous to apprehend, so the Contras resorted to chemical and biological warfare to subdue them. The few survivors were lucky enough to be on missions or trading abroad that night!"
'Then… that means—Menma never did return from his departure?' He realizes working overtime at the Hidden Leaf's medical research facility saved him from a similar fate.
"There were other—more promising test subjects, but my platoon was short on time. We knew the survivors would seek refuge within the Hidden Leaf Village and took advantage of this."
The shinobi grits his broken teeth, "So murdering my sister and brother-in-law wasn't enough!? Did wiping out most of the Namikaze clan and razing the compound serve any purpose, or are you just that petty and vindictive? Have you the slightest inkling of psychological harm you've caused my nephew!? I always knew that Menma wasn't the same once I adopted him. I could see it in his eyes; they were empty, devoid of life or cheerfulness. Doll-like almost! He became reclusive and maniacal…"
"As indicated, Menma Namikaze has been dead longer than you realize, Dr. Kuriarare," he says with a predatory, inhuman gaze. "I was an intelligence operative tasked with infiltrating the Konoha Cryptanalysis Team; isolation and vulnerability were the contributing factors that sealed Menma's fate."
Uneasy of the awful truth developing within the gloomy confines of his broken mind, the dying Anbu struggles to keep his voice from cracking. He proceeds with his inquiry to verify the horrendous theory behind Jim's rationale to confirm a means, "It's atypical of you to make a move nor reveal anything without a purpose. I'll ask one last time, Malkhaz. What manner of transgression has befallen my late nephew?"
"You deserve to know the truth at least, although, on account of my—alleged demise, it's plausible the data I've acquired is obsolete or declassified at best." He whisks the blood dripping from Raven's sword before wiping it on the cloth between his forearm and bicep, 'It's not like you'll live to tell anyone...' The war criminal's eyes widen, almost gasping at the weapon's familiarity as he whirls and sheaths the blade, 'Huh? This sword is my old—' Nevertheless, he perishes the alarming thought, refocusing on his final task. "The simplest explanation of what happened to Menma is an amalgamation of ancient techniques that I had stolen from the Sealing Sages before defecting to the colonies."
"Sealing Sages? Care to elaborate? I'm barely familiar with the ranking structure you unholy GMOs employ."
"They were a loyalist battalion of genetically engineered super soldiers proficient in sealing and sage jutsu."
"Are you referring to those responsible for causing a ghoul infestation in the Land of Whirlpools after butchering the Hidden Cloud and Bloody Mist's Marines on the beaches?"
Jim nods, "More precisely, it was a subdivision led by my older sister, known as the Skin Walkers. The Whirlpool Village's liberation didn't matter to those things; any living being unfortunate enough to cross their path shared the same appalling fate." He sighs, maintaining a vigilant eye upon Crane, "I was there; I fought during the War of Whirling Tides."
"Some rather damning information came of that incident implicating you in various war crimes. You realize Hashirama hasn't forgotten what happened to Mito and the Uzumaki royal family, right?" He chuckles, "Nobody I know wants you dead more than he does."
The fugitive rolls his eyes, "And I've got two balls for that jolly green jackass's chin."
The medical-nin raises a curious eyebrow, "…anyway—the survivors mentioned those things were after you, specifically. Why? What was the point of a systematic mass slaughter of an entire amphibious joint strike force if the conflict's outcome had no consequence to them?"
"As my sister oh so gracefully put it, they were starving since transit and required sustenance," the shinobi shudders, recalling the autopsy documents, photographs, and eyewitness reports from the Anbu Black Ops, "Even at my prime, I didn't stand a chance against her; it took everything I had to retreat, and even then it cost me my lower right arm. I had no choice but to amputate the extremity to prevent the infection from spreading across the rest of my body." Jim lifts his sleeve, revealing a prosthetic.
The symbol on the artificial limb raises the fine hairs on the back of the dying Anbu's neck, 'that's the emblem of the Red Sands Contras. Just when I thought Malkhaz couldn't stoop any lower.'
"Apropos to the rationale behind their pursuit of us is the initial reasoning we fled our homeland—"
"Your capture and subjugation to the Day Breaker Initiative, right?"
The Contra's head tilts in curiosity, "Then you're aware of what happens to those unfortunate enough to undergo this process."
"The Allied Shinobi Forces has been sending Anbu to this theatre of war for years in preparation for a full-scale invasion. Intel regarding inhumane biological experiments began leaking back to headquarters despite the infiltration team's disappearance."
"You're welcome."
Crane sighs, "We feared the SSR had developed weapons capable of surpassing the tailed beast's power. Our priority was to seize advanced armaments and technology after securing a beachhead, then capture as many scientists, engineers, or anyone with bloodline limits as possible. Furthermore, what we found in those research facilities during the initial assault was far worse than imagined."
"Tch," Jim scoffs, concealing subtle hand seal gestures to exploit the medical-nin's weakening mental state with genjutsu. 'So—the Great Shinobi Nations *are* ramping up their eugenics programs.'
"Though exiguous, the data salvaged was horrific, to say the least, and classified as S-rank top secret. The Sovereign Colonies Armed Forces were rigorous in destroying whatever the Syndicate of Socialist Republics were up to in those labs."
"After storming the blood factories, we executed everyone responsible and ensured the Syndicate's research and experiments were irreplicable," The mass murderer leans against a ruined pillar, crossing his arms. "Essentially, the Day Breaker Initiative was a socialist conspiracy to genetically engineer their most elite units, willing or unwilling, into ruthless killing machines subservient to a hive mind of some sort."
"And those supporting the Initiative, specifically your elder sister, felt it would remove insubordination from their ranks. While those in opposition knew it robbed them of their humanity, abolishing all free will. You'd have been a petty vassal to this—hive mind after biomechanical augmentation and disfigurement via a whole cocktail of performance-enhancing mutagens injected into your body. Yes, tell me, Malkhaz. How does it feel to be what you despise!?"
"The irony isn't at all lost on me. Though I could never extinguish the Hidden Leaf's Will of Fire, I liberated my people from the socialists, but at what cost? The rebellion succeeded, yet it was a pyrrhic victory at best—all those lives and years of planning for nothing. I took a gamble and came up short, but life is about compromises. We can't always have what we want exactly the way we want it. Unfortunately, we don't live in a manga where the good guy always wins, nor are there any heroes who save the day at the last minute."
Jim scoffs, "No one truly gets what they want in the shinobi world without paying a reprehensible price. Sometimes, wants and needs are mutually exclusive; thus, perceiving the cost/benefit analysis is imperative to determine whether one's desires are worthwhile. Or get what you desire in a twisted way. As you proclaim, Dr. Kuriarare, you either die a hero or become the very thing you wanted to change."
The medical-nin counters the war criminal's Interrogation Genjutsu with regressive hypnosis. Nevertheless, the outcome is ambiguous; replies to direct questions diverge into extraneous subjects with analogous commonalities. The shinobi concludes that reverse inquiry proves ineffectual or may even backfire if it isn't already, given Jim's brief synopsis of covert operations within the KCT (Konoha Cryptanalysis Team). Further scrutiny inside the confines of his subconsciousness reveals half-truths, alterations of traumatic experiences, and mental barriers masquerading as conduits to the fugitive's psyche.
He navigates the various pitfalls safeguarding Jim's rationale, discovering false memories identical to authentic occurrences that intertwine with subtle layers of genjutsu. Therefore, hijacking an interrogator's mind before implanting thoughts or suggestions without their knowledge, the alarming discovery raises the fine hairs on his neck, compelling him to cease the Back To The Past Technique (Time Reversal/Jigyaku no Jutsu).
'Unless… Malkhaz acquiesces to incursive genjutsu as a medium to acquire sensitive Intel?' he deduces, uncertain if his fruitless endeavor remains inconspicuous; regardless, the Contra's inanimate gaze leaves no indication. The dying Anbu's training at the Konoha Torture and Interrogation Force enables him to maintain a primary defense against cerebral incursions and identify corresponding tactics against him. However, Jim uses a similar kinjutsu the Anbu Black Ops employ to extract information from a victim's mind. 'They undergo interrogation to establish incognizant sleeper cells within our ranks through inception!?'
Sensing what seems to be a dual consciousness in the mass murderer's body perplexes Crane yet elicits further insight into an autonomous procedure that functions with semi-sentience.
Hence, he cannot bypass the security apparatus of interchangeable tesseracts or interface with the operating system constituting Jim's cognitive fortifications, "release!" the medical-nin rasps. The air ripples like a stone hitting a still pond. Electromagnetic waves reverberate around him, generating subtle vibrations that melt the afflicting genjutsu shroud from existence, akin to a viscous sludge.
"As you proclaim, Dr. Kuriarare, you either die a hero or become the very thing you wanted to change."
'How long was I under?' the shinobi gasps as his visibility recovers, 'did he extract any information from me?' he wonders, struggling to retain consciousness, 'Even if he had a dōjutsu, Malkhaz engineering countermeasures this intricate by himself would be absurd! Without a doubt, this *must* be the handiwork of the Land of Keys. Yes, I'm certain of it!' the dying Anbu discovers the auxiliary mechanism synchronizing the two distinct minds within the war criminal's body, operating in conjunction, 'So, the former acts as a diversion. The latter can sortie an intruder's brain with psychological incursions or render it into a permanent vegetative state?'
"Then, if you're not disguised and truly aren't Menma. 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!"
Jim's eyebrow raises. "Is that so?"
'Well, perhaps not in the Land of Lightning, but that's a stretch even then.' Crane 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?" The Contra 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." He chuckles. "You have no idea how fortunate we are that those damned Mujina socialists could not perfect this refined variant of the original kinjutsu." Jim speeds through a string of foreign hand seals. The medical-nin almost mistakes the sequential blowback as a stray bullet soaring past his ear, "Corpse Clone Jutsu!"
Thunderclouds erupt into a radiant tempest, encompassing the three towers. Lightning ruptures the humid tropical skies. The fūinjutsu seal on the mass murderer's abdomen illuminates through his armor and fatigues; dense natural energy surges into Jim's body, levitating him off the ground as brilliant beams of blinding light flicker from his eyes and mouth. The fabric of reality whirs and distorts before tearing. Within the small fissures, the petrifying axiom of the Immaterium assails the shinobi's mind and soul.
The boundless torrents of the Warp's madness manifest as a conscious membrane of chaotic psychic energy and raw emotion given physical form, a constant wailing nightmare of countless quivering silhouettes that the dying Anbu can all but describe as distinct translucent constructs of extradimensional beings from across time and space. The eternal sea of alien spirits crying out for their nonexistent deities to end their perpetual torment almost drives Crane insane. The swirling vortex of corrupt senjutsu chakra ceases, condensing inside the seal on the war criminal's abdomen.
Incorporeal orbs amass near his navel; Menma's soul materializes as a pale, gaunt corpse with piercing black voids for eyes and a mouth extending beyond natural proportions. The apparition screeches in agony as it stretches and contorts over Jim's body—spherical waves of evil energy discharge in all directions. The expanding apertures of the Immaterium reseal before the hordes of demonic beings can rush into the physical world. The impious ritual is over in seconds. A dark figure stands within the incandescent haze.
"I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese, I really *think* so." The silhouette sways forward, dancing from the interdimensional dust as it phases out of existence, "I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese, I really *think* so."
The medical-nin's heart plummets into his stomach as an excruciating realization banishes the air from the shinobi's lungs, petrifying him. 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 gaze of a synthetic monstrosity corrupted through genetic augmentation. The dying Anbu stares in abhorrent disbelief, now comprehending the horrendous irony of the fugitive's blasphemous covert conspiracy, scorning this unholy abomination as no more than a sick perversion of his nephew's memory.
"So *that's* how you damn GMOs were able to locate and infiltrate the hidden villages..." bound by an inconceivable and horrendous fate no more than a confined consciousness, an imprisoned spectator, powerless to stop its host from acting on their own accord without sanction or decree.
Jim, dawning the Syndicate of *Sovereign* Republic's combat uniform (an as-of-late puppet regime of the Sovereign Colonies), defiles the Scarlet Terror's likeness with blatant treachery and villainous sentiment. Characteristics Crane knows his nephew is incapable of, considering his indomitable Will of Fire, steadfast devotion, and loyalty to the Hidden Leaf. The Contra speaks with Menma's voice, "I never wanted any of this; however, desire's irrelevant. I'm not sorry for what I've done, but I am sorry it had to be. My mission is to ensure humanity's survival by *any* means necessary."
"I was much weaker after losing my lower arm," Jim says, pulling an empty magazine from a pouch on his waist. A brilliant sapphire hue radiates around the mass murderer's hand as chakra streams into the cartridge; nevertheless, it reaches but a third of its capacity.
"I knew it would be an eventuality before the Skin Walkers tried abducting my comrades or me again. Rather than face my sister, we accepted the mission to avoid capture and subjection to the Day Breaker Initiative. Our past had finally caught up with us and forced my hand—no pun intended. Shinobi and kunoichi are regarded as heroes by their respective villages. Nevertheless, heroes must make sacrifices. Therefore, when asked for another, I hope you and Menma will understand; it was never personal."
Jim's head tilts in curiosity as the medical-nin becomes feral, trying to tear his limbs free. "To save a family, abandon a man; to save the village, abandon a family; to save the country, abandon a village; to save the soul, abandon the Earth." He reloads the chakra mag into his service pistol and aims.
― Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa
The war criminal fires twice, severing the zombified shinobi's arms from the pillar before firing again; teeth, brain matter, and skull fragments with clumps of hair disperse into a red mist as the upper half of Crane's head explodes. The Red Zetsu's convulsing body plummets from the colossal tower into the darkness below. "A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic."
― Josef Stalin