Thunder rolls across the engorged ebony clouds; a doleful deluge descends upon the putrescent panorama of evil standing victorious above a decaying metropolis. Lightning cuts through the whimpering winds, striking a stationary silhouette with pupil-less white eyes on the tower's fracturing ledge. The flickering glow in the weeping skies reflects from the Marine Contra's cracked glasses as the electricity jolting around him fizzles away. 'The insurance premiums for these are outrageous! Even with the G.I. bill…' His glasses hit the ground, vanishing in a puff of smoke; he grabs an eyeglass case from the front pocket of his fatigues.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu," he replaces his broken glasses with a duplicate pair, 'The V.A. can blow their premiums out their collective fourth point of contact!' He takes another drag from the cigarette resting in his mouth; Jim's sinister shadow looms over the carcass sprawled in a puddle of blood. He accesses the inventory via the PDI (Personal Data and Inventory) device built into his prosthetic before summoning a jar containing five Byakugan eyes floating in preservation fluid. Menma's soft smile masquerades the mass murderer's condescending smirk, regressing to silent maniacal laughter.
'Yet another pristine intact dōjutsu, ripe and ready for harvest, lies in wait,' he mulls over his vile intentions, ecstatic over never again requiring glasses. 'Assuming my blood type is compatible with at least one set, theoretically, my body shouldn't reject the implants. Regardless, these spares should cover the surgery's expenses.' A faint clatter elicits slight adjournment over Jim's musings; he stumbles upon a familiar pale porcelain mask that seizes his attention. An in-depth analysis of the item raises the fine hairs on the back of the war criminal's neck.
"Isn't this my—uh, Menma's old…" unsettling realization vacates the air from his lungs. He extends his index and middle finger at eye level, with the rest curled into the palm, "Release!!" The genjutsu distorts, melting from the air like wax; nevertheless, the instant to safeguard himself from the impending peril is long overdue.
An overwhelming pressure compresses Jim, constraining him to a spurious attention stance. He yelps at an enshrouding stinging sensation akin to dozens of tiny needles puncturing his skin. Ceaseless layers of invasive sensory deprivation genjutsu inundate the fugitive's chakra network, impairing his ability to draw in natural energy or use ninjutsu.
"Release!!" a dense vibrating chakra wave pulses from Jim's chest. The obscure genjutsu flickers; the transparent hue materializes into giant skeletal hands, squeezing him tighter before disappearing again. The Contra's genetic augmentations and immense physical strength prevent his body from breaking under the crushing force.
"Top Hat Tobirama always says the best time to strike is after convincing your enemies of victory." Crane's apparition fades from the physical plane, unsettling Jim as the restless spirit's haunting laughter echoes in the dying breeze.
Raven's corpse twitches and staggers to its feet, engulfing the mass murderer with immediate consternation, 'how!? I cut the bitch's head—CLEAN—OFF!!' Her headless body outstretches its arms, reaching and lurching towards him with each step, making a sickening squelch upon the puddle of blood below her feet. A hoarse gurgle emanates from the stream of blood spilling from the level abbreviation above the Anbu Captain's throat. Helpless, he watches as the horrific spectacle approaches.
Jim struggles against the transparent Susanoo's almost invisible hands, squeezing and restricting his movements, inhibiting and mitigating any progress he attains against the tightening restraints. His muscles fatigue as the creeping terror is nearing arm's length. The war criminal's physical strength diminishes along with his chakra reserves.
Jim struggles and gasps for breath under the immoderate crushing force bearing down upon him. The headless corpse stumbles past the translucent skeletal hands and grasps his shoulders. The Uchiha's decapitated body lunges onto him, wrapping its legs around his waist. It forces the fugitive's eyes open before he can finish weaving seals with them, smearing blood all over his face with its fingers.
He tries kicking and weaving seals with his feet. However, relentless asphyxiation and the notion of plausible contamination from blood seeping into Jim's eyes impede the Contra's concentration and ability to revitalize his chakra network for an escape.
"At least you won't fucking eat without a mouth!" He stutters in a final act of defiance. As the headless kunoichi reclines its shoulders, he distinguishes a repeating diminutive utterance from the raspy gurgle sputtering from her neck.
"Come back to me," it whispers.
A chill slithers up his spine. "What… in the actual fu—" Raven's body thrusts forward using the thin sliver of flesh hanging off its back to sling the Anbu Captain's severed head onto her shoulders, "AAAHHrrmph!?!" His widening eyes render him vulnerable to the dreadful gaze of crimson bioluminescent orbs glaring into the windows of his corrupt soul. Though similar with slight differences, the unique pattern in the Uchiha's eyes gives credence to the stark realization that none other than an Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan obstructs the mass murderer's view.
His pupils dilate via subjugation to a trance-like state, inhibiting him from closing his eyelids. Jim's instinct is to bite off the offending appendage, swashing in and around his mouth; nevertheless, an overwhelming genjutsu inhibits the war criminal's nervous system. 'But… didn't excessive use of your Mangekyō Sharingan blind you!' the transparent skeletal hands dissipate, and the overwhelming pressure crushing him fades.
He falls backward with the resurgent kunoichi pinning him on the ground, 'So—this is how it all ends?' The vice grip on his cheeks strengthens; bloody tears stream from her eyes, trickling onto Jim's face.
She is nigh unrecognizable without her mask; however, he perceives the slight physical differences from the former unfeeling, monotone lunatic adept at eradicating well-fortified regiments within the Tenchi and Kannabi trenches. 'Though I wonder, was it your sister's eyes you stole, Sayuri?' The Mystic Palm Technique's ominous emerald hue radiates inside her neck without Raven using her hands. The spinal cord, muscles, arteries, and veins reconnect before regenerating as the nervous system reconstructs itself.
She compresses against him, satiating her desperate desire for air. The Anbu Captain pulls away, chirpy as a cat catching a canary, never breaking eye contact; her hair drapes over his head like curtains on a stage after the final act. The captive fugitive's eyes spasm in disgust as a subtle taste of bile and iron lingers. His eyes shift in desperation, but the Uchiha's Sharingan foretells Jim's frantic last-ditch effort at escape.
She seizes him by the collar of his trench coat. The kunoichi focuses on Menma's blue irises, overriding what little control the Contra has left of them, halting any attempt at weaving eye seals. Now unable to avert his gaze, he stares in abject horror as an unsettling grin creeps along her face, identical to Madara's.
"You think I don't know what you're doing?" she rasps despite the damage to her vocal cords, "Don't make this any harder than it has to be. Come back to me, Menma. Please come home."
Although incapable of expressing abhorrent confusion over his deteriorating circumstances, he focuses on the latent avenues of approach available to circumvent death or possible enslavement. His fate depends on how well he maintains his façade as Menma. Thus, the Corpse Clone Technique and the drastic alterations in Sayuri's personality are why he still draws breath on this plane of existence.
'I never could comprehend your major malfunction, but I can surmise it's rather arduous to enunciate!' For better or worse, his theory relies on her suffering some form of delirium. Despite living with Raven in the Hidden Leaf as Menma Namikaze, he recalls never decrypting her indifferent expressions. 'She was always imperturbable in every situation regardless of how alarming.' His mind works in overdrive, sifting through various spasmodic concepts to formulate the most efficient method of combating her visual prowess.
In theory, Jim's tolerance or resistance to the Sharingan's lesser variants coincides with constant exposure, including years of battling the Land of Fire and its allies, hence the possible reasoning behind retaining consciousness. At any rate, several questions linger, and his hypothesis remains inconclusive as he aspires for new insight into his dilemma.
FLASHBACK NO-JUTSU
A soft, frigid breeze drifts above the endless kilometers of trenches zigzagging the Land of Fire's northern border. Explosions and machine gunfire echo in the distance. Stray artillery shells whistle across the air, hammering the Earth; torrid dirt erupts from the smoldering craters before pelting the ground as boiling mud. Reconnaissance aircraft buzz over the smoky skies, surveying the razed towns and villages scattering the war-torn land. Despite a ceasefire between the ASF and the SCAF, proxy wars and minor skirmishes along the demilitarized zones continue plaguing the Great Shinobi Nations.
Gentle snowfall settles upon the ground, amassing into the vast white blanket reflecting the light of the stars and both moons. The Marine Contra approaches an outpost beyond the abandoned ruins of a medium-sized town. His swift movements are silent in the freezing air as the surrounding tree limbs creak and moan under the weight of the snow. He deactivates the barrier ninjutsu on the barbed chain-link fences, allowing him safe passage.
The base's machinegun nests, guard towers, and trucks with supply crates are desolate and tranquil. Upon arriving at the entrance, a heavy bunker door with the Hidden Leaf's insignia obstructs his path past the sandbags. He places a sealing tag on the door, then shifts over a dozen hand seals, albeit slower than usual. Jim uses the medication from his first aid kit to alleviate the pain plaguing the new prosthetic lower right arm.
The emblem on the door glows before opening a small compartment containing a monitor and control panel. He senses an approaching chakra signature among the dozens wandering around the outpost—a Hidden Leaf (Konohagakure) kunoichi teleports beside him using the Body Flicker Technique.
She slides down, sitting against the concrete walls, panting. "I've bought us some time, but not much," the teenage kunoichi has light-colored eyes, an oval face, and a stoic expression. Her dark hair is in an elaborate and intricate top-knot, has a dark shade of lipstick, and a long bang covering the left side of her face. She wears standard Land of Fire winter fatigues with a bolt action rifle over her shoulder.
The mass murderer responds without missing a beat, "Did you get it?"
The kunoichi nods, tossing him a scroll, "Let's secure the objective and get out of here already." He opens the parchment before typing away on the terminal, inputting various passcodes that disengage the locks and power down the security systems within the facility—she motions for him to halt.
"Relax, I've disabled the alarms, so we don't attract unwanted attention," the lights flash as the heavy blast door opens.
The kunoichi sighs, "Menma… what on Earth were those things out—" The putrid smell of death hits at once. She gasps with tears streaming down her face; vomit spews through and around the kunoichi's fingers as she covers her mouth.
His flashlight scans the bunker's interior, unveiling the writhing masses in the dark. Small limbs and pieces of flesh lay strewn about the deck, jagged broken teeth, tears into warm bloody flesh, ripping it from the bones of a fresh kill. Skeletal remains snap, splashing blood onto Jim's leg as the mindless creatures consume the upper half of a child's torso with its intestines dangling from what's left of the abdomen. A handful of the cannibalistic children arise from the gruesome feast, slouching and moaning toward their new prey. Zombified Stone and Leaf shinobi emerge from the darkness, mixing within their undead ranks.
He turns away, shutting his eyes, "Tōka, look away; their Sharingans may still be active! Tōka?" the kunoichi's eyes roll back into her head. Tōka's arms go limp; she slumps forward, drooling and unmoving as if in a trance, "Woah, that ain't good!" He attaches an explosive tag to a kunai, throws it at the approaching undead crowd, and tackles her behind a barricade. The subsequent explosion splatters appendages with burning chunks around the entrance hall.
Zombified civilians and shinobi stumble from the frozen forests, shuffling toward the outpost. "And that's even worse!" The war criminal erects a stone barricade with a rapid succession of hand seals to hold off the growing hoard. He uses the smoke as cover, grabs the kunoichi's rifle, chambers a round, and aims. He distinguishes the outlines of Hidden Leaf uniforms, neutralizing the zombie Uchihas before focusing on the others.
His inadequate supply of ammunition compels him to reconsider his initial strategy and be pragmatic when addressing the issue. Instead of wasting more rounds or chakra, he evaluates his environment and the creature's strengths and weaknesses. Via the process of elimination, he refines the most effective methods of inflicting sufficient damage to incapacitate the advancing aggressors, resulting in an almost effortless endeavor.
'These walking stiffs require severe cranial trauma to incapacitate but are slower and far more manageable than battle-hardened shinobi,' Jim concludes. He clears the bunker, carrying her on his shoulders until he finds a secure location to dispel the genjutsu. After laying Tōka down on a table in a storage room, the fugitive places his prosthetic hand on her forehead, "Release." She regains consciousness, taking a deep gasp of air as if coming back from the dead. Her eyes dart around, scanning the room before settling on the undercover Contra.
"What took you so long, Menma!?" she gasps, "Do you know what I had to endure!?"
"To some degree, yes. I'd have liberated you sooner from your cognitive restraints; however, I was unpleasantly surprised to learn those creature's chakra networks were still functional." Jim ignites a cigarette between his thumb and index finger, then takes a drag, "and… that they were capable of dragging their rotting carcasses up vertical surfaces after us." He gestures the cigarette box toward her, but she declines with a hand wave.
"It's just one horrible abomination after another—each more atrocious than the last. For crying out loud, this outpost was supposed to be an evacuation shelter for women and children! When will it all end?" the kunoichi rants, clenching her fists, "The fact my clan has to cooperate with the Uchiha just to stand a chance against those inhuman gaijin makes me sick." Jim raises an eyebrow, taking an interest in Tōka's emotional state. "Tch, it wouldn't surprise me if the Uchiha were originally just another one of those fucked up experiments that somehow got loose and managed to reproduce!"
He chuckles, "Tōka, calm yourself. You're still suffering minor side effects from prolonged exposure to the Sharingan." The mass murderer says, concealing subtle seals with his hand and eyes that he can pass off as a simple noise cancelation jutsu if necessary, which is half true. 'What else can you reveal about the Uchihas?'
"It's just as Top Hat Tobirama says, Menma. The Uchihas are demonic and emotionally unstable; therefore, they must control themselves with juinjutsu to be somewhat functional members of society. But suppressing and sealing away an Uchiha's emotions is no better than sinking a basketball in a lake; the farther it submerges, the more power it possesses once it resurfaces."
The kunoichi, under the influence of genjutsu, continues ranting, "Once those—things suffer in anguish over intense stress or lose someone they fell in love with, the curse mark weakens, and their emotions run rampant. Even stronger hate replaces this loss of love; the resulting mental breakdown manifests an abnormal chakra in their brains that affects the optic nerves. The further their minds destabilize, the more irrational the Uchiha becomes until they lose their humanity."
END FLASHBACK
The dense curtain of rain looming over the megacity ceases its merciless downpour. The pitch-black storm clouds drift apart, cascading the twin moon's ominous glow like silver medallions in the sky—countless twinkling stars glint within the soft, silvery midnight veil. An uncanny stillness disrupts the winds, suffocating the rooftops with deafening silence.
The moonlight's haunting pale glimmer obscures Raven's enigmatic, expressionless face in darkness as her grasp tightens around Jim's throat. She forces his head against the ground, then pries the Contra's fatigues and body armor away with almost supernatural strength. The Anbu Captain seizes the wedding ring from his dog tags.
Insensibility of the intent or capabilities of those crimson eyes within the shadowy void causes the mass murderer's heartbeat to pound in his ears. She scrutinizes the items while tracing her fingers down his chest, then over the fūinjutsu seal on Jim's abdomen. After a thorough analysis via Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, she places the wedding ring around her finger, flabbergasting and causing him to gulp in fear.
'Impossible!'
As his dog tags chime in the kunoichi's trembling hand, she presses her chakra-infused fingers onto the mass murderer's abdomen and twists the seal. "Sealing Technique: Release!" Incandescent fissures surge from the brightening seals around his navel, spreading and expanding inside the false body. With a brief flash and a light pop, the coating around him that resembles Menma shatters. Sayuri's Sharingan eyes bulge; she almost blacks out from the stream of blood gushing from her nostrils, 'By Kami, you are one *jacked* motherfucker!!'
The radiant shards fizzle away. Raven slams her hands alongside his head, leaning inches away from the war criminal's face. Gazing into his golden irises, she whispers in a raspy, guttural voice, "We have so much catching up to do, *Vega*..."