'I swore to avenge my husband, but the whole time, I've always been hunting her… *HIM*!!' Raven's heart pounds in her chest; the Anbu Captain's hands tremble as she recalls the mission pay and massive bounty on the Marine Contra. 'For years, I was always unsure, but now… now I'm certain Jimi Isra Malkhaz is a male! She–no... *HE* is all alone and defenseless.' Breathless, the Uchiha strives to restrain herself, unable to fathom the bonus of a live target, 'I've waited for so long; I'll never have another opportunity like this again!'
She scrutinizes his face in exhaustive detail, then somewhat composes herself, "I've had strong, mixed feelings for you since you saved me from that wildfire all those years ago. If not for you, I'd be a forgotten heap of charred bones lying in one of my clan's many abandoned settlements."
"If your dōjutsu grants extrasensory perception, almost indistinguishable from telepathy... Then, you can understand why I am physically incapable of harboring or expressing such sentiments. Substantial genetic and surgical modifications ensure that I can only mimic non-genuine emotions. And are perhaps habitual remnants of the souls inhabiting this body. In other words, Sayuri—I can never love you or anyone else. I never have nor would I ever—ack!!"
She squeezes Jim's throat, silencing him, "Shut your whore mouth!! Maybe I'll keep you in a trance so you won't look at anyone else but me!"
His twitching, bloodshot eyes almost rupture due to asphyxiation and anguish. The mass murderer's eyes roll back into his head; he spasms with blood trickling from his nose, 'I should've crushed her skull beneath my boot!' He tries retaliating with fierce cerebral resistance and psychological warfare. However, against an Uchiha is no more than a last-ditch delay tactic. Despite the futility of using genjutsu, Jim deduces a despondent battle of attrition can, at best, impede the certainty of his tragic fate.
With the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan's overwhelming visual prowess, she sifts through the initial cognitive defenses safeguarding his consciousness, enabling minimal communication via telepathy. "Your compliance is no longer a factor. I'm not letting you go anywhere anymore! I never did get a ring until now, Jimi!"
'Bitch! You fucking leg-locked me when I tried pulling out that night!!'
"I will take what's rightfully mine! You—belong—to me! Despite living together, I could never figure you out, which was infuriating, yet this kept me infatuated with you." the kunoichi sighs, brushes away the war criminal's red hair, then caresses his face with her index finger, "I can't sense an incline of fear or helplessness. The more I stare at you, the more I feel shivers and my blood boiling! I'll do whatever I please with you without reprisal or remorse! I won't let you go for as long as I live. How does this make you feel, Jimi!? I still can't tell!!"
He has no choice but to amend his initial strategy. Although he cannot halt the disclosure of his memories, he can designate the sequence and, to a degree, obstruct the burglary of classified jutsu. Jim surrenders non-sequential data fragments to thwart a substantial intelligence breach, per se imploring a cerebral tactical retreat.
'I can only aspire for a data overload to disorganize Sayuri's interrogation genjutsu and impede her from accessing sensitive intel. Assuming she can differentiate or process anything worthwhile.' He implements a neural substitution jutsu between toilsome gasps, allowing him to use Menma's mind and soul as a diversion from his own. She stumbles upon a labyrinthine bulwark of chakra pathways that comprise the fugitive's cerebral defense grid, 'laugh now, Hidden Leaf scum!'
The many intersecting paths contain intricate webs of glowing chakra nods with recollections of forbidden jutsu and corresponding information in chronological order that relay various flashbacks from Jim's perspective. Clandestine connections between dormant neural synapses form, resulting in a surge of memoirs once unavailable due to the influence of other Sharingan users.
Unable to anticipate the severity or implications of such an obscure double-edged blade within his strategy flabbergasts him. Before extreme rage can overtake Sayuri, she detects subtle alterations to Menma's memories that he is unaware of. Each unique chakra signature lets her distinguish every culprit and unspeakable act reminiscent of Jashin cultists.
'Sayuri!! You and that fork-tongued pig-lizard Tajima threw me to the wolves!'
'Why have I never thought of trying that!?' she frowns at her siblings and fellow clansman's betrayal, "not intentionally. I understand your grievances, but I have no sympathy for you. I'll seal off your chakra this time, lock you away, and *personally* monitor your every action." The corrupt memory nodes resemble human eyes, each with a unique Mangekyō Sharingan archetype, tying more evidence to higher-ranking individuals such as clan representatives, council members, nobility, and, much to Raven's astonishment, even royalty.
Much to her but even more to his dismay, they uncover an assortment of depravity and secret messages requiring a Sharingan to access or interpret. Moreover, the dōjutsu's degree of refinement governs accessibility to prior explicit acts of indecency and inside jokes at the Anbu Captain's expense, further adding insult to injury. She recalls previous banter in the women's barracks with new insight into every direct and indirect jeer.
"You know, Jimi. I *want* to be upset with you over this, but I can't; you had nothing to do with it, and that frustrates me because I don't have anyone to take it out on, at least for now. I thought I'd be *much* angrier with the utter humiliation and loss of my pride as an Anbu Captain. Or maybe I'm so unbelievably enraged that I've come full circle," her maniacal laughter persists as she descends into madness."
'I was intoxicated that night and had mistaken you for Nagari! Once the Hokage figured out you were pregnant, he came to my condo at the ass-crack of dawn, pointing a twelve-gauge at my face! Taijama threatened to end me then and there unless I marry you in his office within the next hour; a literal shotgun wedding!'
"It may have been you as Menma, but you still promised me at our wedding—my nindō will only be you from now on and always. I won't let you go from my side. After all, you are mine from now on and always mine!" The Uchiha's tongue hangs from her mouth as she drools and pants, slurring nonsensical, lascivious rambling with a fanatic wide-eyed gaze.
The Contra's mind operates in overdrive, dispelling ceaseless layers of encroaching genjutsu. From subtle applications of chakra absorption techniques, he releases minor pulses of electricity to reboot his central nervous system, causing him to fluctuate between reality and Tsukuyomi. He focuses on hindering the Sharingan's mental rather than physical influence over the subliminal aspects comprising his chakra network's cardinal defenses. Thus, he retains semi-awareness while preoccupying his mind with the eclectic endeavor.
He almost dismisses her phraseology as incessant jabber but, upon closer scrutiny, recognizes the subtle adages that coincide with lewd profanity and other perverse expressions. Jim gasps, somewhat interpreting the ancient language unique to the Uchiha clan's inner circle, causing his face to flush ever more beat red.
'None other than the Uchiha possess the linguistic aptitude to develop a language proficient in expressing intention and pure emotion to such a degree.' Unable to derive any enjoyment or pleasure, he relinquishes the physicality of his non-consensual dilemma with considerable reluctance. Nevertheless, it is another adequate diversion for conducting an effective fūinjutsu-based counteroffensive. As the mass murderer prioritizes sustaining consciousness, Jim remains uncertain about how long he can resist while the kunoichi's intensity and aggressive pace hasten.
She expresses in explicit detail her desires and intentions; however, the war criminal wants nothing more than to cover Sayuri's mouth to keep her quiet; perpetual exposure to the Sharingan but with the Land of Key's *Eye Mind Reading Technique* awards Jim new insight via empirical awareness of the dōjutsu's true nature and experience of every perverse fantasy she has of him.
He fluctuates between cognizance ricocheting from Tsukuyomi and reality. The fugitive feels what Raven feels and vice versa; furthermore, hours in the dream-like realm can be less than a nanosecond in the physical world. In conjunction with advanced medical knowledge, the evolved bloodline limit's latent abilities enable precise manipulation of his circulatory system to specific regions of Jim's body in excessive volumes without him harboring any feelings of attraction or arousal. The Anbu Captain can also accelerate his recovery rate and production at will. That is—if the struggling Uchiha can and has yet to, despite trying her damnedest.
A mischievous smirk glides across his face; the Contra's level of chakra control enables him to conduct and concentrate the luminescent, sapphire-blue energy anywhere on his body. The results are instantaneous. Though fleeting, the expression on the near-strabismical kunoichi's face is one he has no precedent nor terminology to characterize; the ominous silence is deafening. Comparable to an ancient, inhuman phenomenon or interdimensional glitch that awakens dormant primal dismay within him. Seizing the opportunity without hesitation, he banishes the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan's incursive influence from his predominant mind, isolating it within Menma's.
The neural network's auxiliary apparatus synchronizing Jim's duel consciousness roars into operation. While the autonomous procedure, functioning with semi-sentience, acts as a diversion, he sorties Sayuri's brain with her none the wiser. The mass murderer acquires sensitive intel utilizing the Land of Key's vast repertoire of counter-cerebral incursion techniques, regressive hypnosis, and reverse interrogation genjutsu. She slumps forward onto him, quivering and hyperventilating.
He retakes control of his vocal cords. "What's the matter… is that all you've got?!?" he grits his teeth. Don't you still want to have your *ninja way* with me some more against my will?" he snarls, fighting to repress his cracking voice and childhood trauma. Sayuri glares into Jim's eyes, deactivating his improvisational Jutsu with her Sharingan. She regains her composure, grinning like a Cheshire cat as she takes control of the war criminal's body.
Dead Man's Hand Shadow Clones
The Marine Contra's shadow clones seize sanctuary behind the large columns lining a monumental amphitheater. A tremendous fulmination of pressure and flame razes an ample allotment of the audience chamber, almost collapsing the entire floor. Sibilant screeching and recurrent wails drown out the brief silence; hundreds of glowing eyes appear in the smoke as silhouettes of all shapes and sizes arise from the burning debris. The hordes of flesh-eating ghouls resume their unrelenting descent upon the duplicates. They retreat behind the stage, barricading the back entrances with Earth Release.
Red Zetsus chipp away at the rocky obstruction with inhuman strength, rusting metal creeks on the steel doors bending and rattling behind the debris. The distinct moans of the wandering dead increase as thousands swarm the arena; their whales and groans vibrate the air, drowning out the post-apocalyptic ambiance.
Jim's clone crosses his index and middle fingers, focusing on an explosive tag on the ground. A stack of paper bombs appears from thin air, "This place is about to blow much sloppier than a Suna kunoichi with a giant fan!" A few quick hand seals and the stack of paper tags mummify him, "This is the *one* time I suggest bailing before that happens!"
"You crazy, son-of-a!!" Though mindful of the ironic self-slight, the shadow clone of a shadow clone bolts down the extensive corridor before the heavy trap door slams shut.
"ALOHA SNACK BAR!!!"
He accelerates via teleportation jutsu; his surroundings regress into obscure constructs and ephemeral tinges. Momentum, then a shockwave, sends him soaring in the air with immense heat, almost singeing his fatigues. He decelerates and descends; hence, the slight time dilation recedes. Soon, memories of the doppelganger's predecessor come screaming back into his mind like a haunting night terror. He clasps his hands, creating a thin layer of armor using Earth Release before slamming into an abandoned vehicle.
The clone gasps for breath, trying to stand before collapsing into a cold sweat, trembling with tears streaming down his face, ready to vomit. The sheer dread and panic as the fuse malfunctions, then drowning in blood once the Red Zetsus maul his flesh, ripping him limb from limb. He recalls them tearing out his entrails before instant disintegration by a scorching inferno.
He fumbles around his abdomen; the shadow clone confirms his intestines remain intact. With trembling hands, he ignites the cigarette resting in his mouth. After a few drags, he consoles himself enough to reflect upon prior experiences with his predecessor. He discerns in excruciating detail that an error in the primary paper bomb's fuse due to imprudence is the culprit behind the timer's delay. Rather than being upset, the replicate considers how beneficial the agonizing ordeal's insightful aspects will be in due time.
'The damage threshold I can endure depends on the quantity and quality of chakra absorbed. Thus, I was incapable of dispelling myself and forced to suffer being consumed by those vile abominations.' His eyes bulge; in the clone's peripheral vision, a Red Zetsu peers from behind the vehicle before lunging at him, "Argh!! You punk-bitch motherfucker! Get off!!" The cannibalistic fiend tackles him, biting and snapping at the air as he tries fending it away.
Its jaw unhinges; the zombie-like creature's tongue flutters in a frenzy as it inches closer to his face. He shoves a handful of gravel into its gaping maw; the mutant grabs the body double's neck and slams his head against the vehicle's tire. He restrains the Red Zetsu with his palm against its forehead, absorbing as much chakra as possible. He chains a rapid succession of left hooks into the abomination's temple until it pins his hand on the ground.
He contends against the mutant's inhuman strength before manipulating remnants of the zombie-like creature's fingers into a rudimentary hand seal. The gravel wedged in its mouth fizzles then expands, rupturing the Red Zetsus skull into fragments and bloody chunks. However, destroying the abomination's head, at best, impedes its ability to coordinate until the body recalibrates itself. The shadow clone snatches a pistol from the convulsing mutant shinobi and fires at another inbound Red Zetsu. It stumbles forward; the entry wound splinters its kneecap, severing the leg.
He dispatches two rounds into its skull but misses the third shot. The flesh-eating ghoul falls onto the spastic Red Zetsu on top of him. The mutant grabs his forearm, pinning the duplicate's wrist against the vehicle. He angles the handgun and fires; the cannibalistic fiend's cranium bisects before it can bite him. A third Red Zetsu piles onto the two twitching abominations atop the clone.
He detects more abominations approaching; the doppelganger empties the magazine, bespattering the mutant's decomposing skull against an adjacent pillar. Drawn-out groans, then boots shuffling against loose gravel, disrupt the brief eerie silence. He shoves the trio of spasming carcasses off himself before rolling underneath the vehicle towards the opposite side. A pair of zombified shinobis lurch from the smoke while he scrambles back to his feet, readying himself in a combat stance.
A kunai slides from the shadow clone's sleeve into his hand; he studies their appearance and attire for practicable provisions to plunder. He perceives the slight differences in the Land of Fire's standard issue BDUs (Battle Dress Uniform) enough to distinguish one of the Red Zetsus as an officer with a full pistol magazine in its flak jacket. The beret adorning the Hidden Leaf's coat of arms and the markings on the zombified officer's feral, battle-scared face signify possible affiliation with the Inuzuka clan.
They shuffle toward him; he zeroes in as their foreheads align. The replicate enhances the kunai with chakra before casting the speeding blade at the mutant Inuzuka, and—it ducks.
He blinks twice, double-taking as the adjacent mutant catches and whirls the kunai into a reverse grip. The abominations close in; the clone shifts into a southpaw stance, "Ancient Aztec Art: Siphoning Synergistic Strikes." He steps forward, staying light on his feet, maneuvering around the flesh-eating ghouls while throwing jabs and herculean punches at breakneck speeds.
Blood, teeth, and bone fragments discharge from the mutant Inuzuka's face as each blow leaves indentations destabilizing the skull's skeletal structure, further deforming its face. He ducks under its arm before slamming two left hooks into the cannibalistic fiend's ribs, shattering the bones. The zombie-like creature lunges, but Jim's clone sidesteps its counterattack. The duplicate whips a powerful left hook into what remains of the Red Zetsu's jaw, ripping it from the mutant's head as it falls backward.
He lands a front kick onto the ensuing abomination's torso, stumbling it back. The shadow clone keeps his distance from the mutant shinobi wielding the kunai, wondering how much of its prior training as a human it remembers. During a brief skirmish, he estimates the Red Zetsu's skills to be around high genin to low chūnin level before ripping out the abomination's heart from its back. Despite their memory retention, the doppelganger discerns how sluggish and clumsy the mutant shinobi's attacks are.
He readies himself into a defensive stance, allowing the flesh-eating ghoul to lurch closer. The clone's foot impacts the Red Zetsu's temple before whipping his heel back into its jaw. He b-twists and sends the mutant hurling with an airborne kick and a heel strike to its head. The Red Zetsu slams into a wall, releasing the kunai; the replicate catches the blade before stabbing it through the abomination's hands into the surface above its head.
After absorbing the cannibalistic fiend's chakra, he concentrates the jutsu juice into his fist. He drives an uppercut into the mutant's stomach, "I'm about to make you lose your breakfast," rams his fist into its solar plexus, "lunch," then left hooks the Red Zetsu's liver, "and yo dinner, my ninja." He steps back as blood with chunks of human flesh gushes from the zombie-like creature's mouth.
With immaculate timing, the shadow clone sidesteps the mutant Inuzuka, sweeping the back of its knee—his hand shifts over a few seals. The wall behind the Red Zetsu, bound against it, morphs and contorts. A stalagmite punctures the abomination's pelvis. The mutant Inuzuka stumbles forward, falling face-first onto a stony protrusion that pierces the cannibalistic fiend's throat. The duplicate dislodges the other Red Zetsu's skewered hands from the wall and shoves them atop the Inuzuka's head, lodging the kunai inside its skull.
The clone takes one last drag of the now-spent cigarette resting in his mouth. Despite absorbing a diminutive quantity of chakra from the Red Zetsus, the sapphire blue energy remains unstable due to compatibility issues with his chakra network. He shifts through a sequence of hand seals; electricity fizzles around his body and dissipates. A subtle electric hum projects high-frequency electromagnetic waves several kilometers around the surrounding area and back to himself.
He uses teleportation jutsu, retreating further into the ruins, away from the Red Zetsus swarming his previous location. In a distant portion of the impoverished metropolis, he focuses on his remaining chakra, partitioning and maintaining a steadfast separation from any prior victim's or mutant's divergent jutsu juice. The doppelganger's atypical methods of chakra control enable him to expend less than a fourth of the sapphire-blue energy, distilling, stabilizing, and reintroducing it piecemeal back into his reserves.
A shinobi of the Hidden Stone Village (Iwagakure) detects the subtle adages of encroaching genjutsu. The Iwa-nin charges the bolt handle on his rifle. "Come on out, you socialist cock-sucker. I'll make it nice and quick. You can trust me..." The shadow clone pounces, flabbergasting the unwary infantryman, yet he reacts with superhuman speed—the Stone shinobi fires, shredding a substitution log before swinging his rifle's shoulder stock.
The replicate sidesteps and shifts the ground to divert an incoming blow; he stuns the Iwa-nin's limbs using swift, sharp jabs and pokes along the pressure points. He elbow smashes the infantryman's temple, causing hairline fractures along the skull. Without equilibrium, the shinobi fights for his life as the clone grapples over his neck and limp arm before rolling backward on top of him. The Iwa-nin gasps for air; visibility fades as his eyes tear up from the excruciating chakra absorption technique.
The duplicate squeezes and pulls, "I'm no communist or a socialist, you imperialist dog." The infantryman's body goes limp with a sickening crunch. He uses Earth Release to phase past an adjacent wall, ambushing another ASF grunt. The shadow clone whips his foot, striking a Uzushiogakure (Village Hidden by Whirling Tides) shinobi's popliteal, crushing the tendons. The Uzu-nin falls to his knees; he thrusts his boot into the infantryman's face, shattering bone and cartilage. The clone reaches behind the near-unconscious Whirlpool shinobi's neck, grappling under the shoulder.
He drives the dazed Uzu-nin to the ground, snapping his neck. A kunoichi from the Land of the Sky (Sora no Kuni) teleports before him as he spins on his shoulders. He whirls his legs; the rapid, revolving kicks stagger the woman. Her Autogun fires a three-round burst at an adjacent wall rather than the doppelganger's center mass.
With a fierce battle cry, she blitzes him with her Autogun's bayonet. He evades the incoming charge, driving his elbow into the Sora-nin's face. He seizes the unsteady woman's arm and neck, bending her forward before swinging his leg back into the Sky kunoichi's head, flipping the Sora-nin over on the ground. He pile drives his knee into her neck; she gasps in desperation, suffocating to death.
He chains a brief sequence of seals with his eyes and toes; the shadow clone taps his foot on the ground. A near-perfect cut-out of a circle dislodges onto the lower floor behind a Sky shinobi.
The Sora-nin spins around, drawing a revolver, "I'm your huckle-ber…" The replicate thrusts his chakra-enhanced boot into where he estimates the infantryman's chin should be; however, the clone blunders in assessing the distance between himself and the shinobi. His forefoot rockets into the Sora-nin's crotch, punting the poor schmo's ninja nuggets into his lower abdomen; the writhing infantryman's ability to sustain such a high note without faltering astonishes the replicate.
"Toasty~!!"
The shadow clone snickers, "You're gonna want some ice on those, cowboy," he grabs the singing shinobi by the collar of his flak jacket before rolling backward, flipping him over. "After Satan dunkin' doughnut dips 'em in a molten morning, Joe!" He steals the infantryman's revolver and fires, splattering the Sora-nin's forehead. The Red Zetsus swarm the ASF's makeshift hideout, overwhelming the traps and barrier ninjutsu around the complex. "Tch, they're everywhere."
The flesh-eating ghouls breach the walls and doors, closing in on the fresh scent of blood or any surviving ASF grunts within the skyscraper. Explosions and various jutsu erupt on the lower levels as the remaining shinobi try to fend off the endless hordes. Nevertheless, screams of terror and agony supersede the fading gunfire as the abominations overwhelm the ASF personnel before they can escape. The duplicate's mind races as the mutant hordes bare down on his location; he stares at the Sky shinobi's body. "Lightning Release: Synergistic Sabre…" The galvanic hue around his hand assumes the shape of a lightning blade.
The Red Zetsus give chase as he sprints down the streets, carrying a garbage bag dripping with blood over his shoulder. He jukes and jolts across the ruins, reaching into the trash bag to throw cauterized human remains while shouting, "YEET!!" to distract the hordes. The clone throws a spleen on the ground, tripping a Red Zetsu before it can tackle him. The abominations stumble into the accumulating mass; however, the vast hordes stampede over the mutant mound in full pursuit.
He pulls a severed head from the garbage bag but is stunned by the ghoulish spectacle. The doppelganger bursts into uncontrollable laughter while holding the Whirlpool shinobi's head by its hair. The dead Uzu-nin's aghast facial expression and jaw bounce with each frantic step, "Datteba-YOO!! Datteban-EEEH!! Dattebas-AAAH!!" he jeers, mocking the familiar catchphrases of those native to the Land of Whirlpools (Uzu no Kuni). The shadow clone rolls the bloody sack off his shoulder, swinging it at an upward angle, "Choke on my sack, ya skin jerkin' flesh junkie!!"
The Red Zetsu catapults off an overpass and tumbles into a blazing inferno, babbling and screeching like a Tasmanian devil as the rebar protruding from the ruins scorches and skewers its rotting carcass. He uses genjutsu to conceal himself within a desolate intersection as the hordes redirect their attention.
"What in the actual fuck!? Hey! HEY!!" a shinobi racks the charging handle of his LMG (Light Machine Gun), aiming it from an open window.
"Jackpot!" The replicate uses substitution jutsu to avoid the incoming machine gun fire piercing the air and shredding a log in his prior position, 'took you derpy motherfuckers long enough! Perhaps another pass around won't be necessary.'
Panic and confusion proliferate the medium-scale refuge, housing dozens of surviving ASF infantry. An all-hands-on-deck situation erupts as every able-body individual takes defensive positions within the makeshift base.
"That goddamned gutter slut was chummin' the FOB with our comrade's remains!!" the shinobi rages. The cannibalistic fiends converge upon the outpost, diverting most of the ASF platoon's focus away from the clone. Nevertheless, the few Wood Release users stationed within the compound cause a sizable albeit temporary dent in the endless hordes.
"Gutter slut!?" the duplicate chuckles, chambering a bullet in his new, expropriated Autogun, 'They've even caught on to my little scheme. No worries, it's far too late now; their stupid ass-holes are about to be fucked six ways from Sunday! And that ain't a cap!' The fierce volley of jutsu and chakra conducting rounds, pinning him within the city ruins partitions, enabling the shadow clone to return suppressive fire, coercing the shinobi to take cover. He empties the magazine but manages to damage the LMG; the doppelganger reloads the Autogun and switches from full-auto to semi (single shot).
Subsidiary gunfire and jutsu of every element lambast his position, forcing him to retreat as more ASF personnel use nature transformation to enhance the lethality of their munitions. Regardless, the mutants overwhelm the stronghold's defenses, smashing past the barricades and congesting the interior. The abominations corner many of them inside as they formulate a valiant last stand; some manage to escape, vaulting from the windows where the clone awaits, grinning ear to ear.
He racks the Autogun's charging handle, "Pop-a-Bitch No Jutsu…" and fires, picking the shinobi from the air like clay pidgins, "Get some, get some! C'mon baby, get some!!" The ASF grunts, unlucky enough to survive being shot, plummet into the gathering hoards, where the zombie-like creatures dismember them before they can even scream. "Get some, get some, c'mon c'mon!!" The abominations, scaling the skyscraper, lunge at the deserting shinobi, tackling them out of the air.
"Get some, get some, come on! Get it, come on! Get some, get some, yeah-yeah, yeah! Gotcha, you dried up dingleberry!" Amidst the skirmish, his depleting ammunition runs out, resulting in a distinct click with each trigger pull, "Oh, crap!" Furthermore, handfuls of the residual shinobi escape from the building, 'There were more of them hiding out in there than I thought; I sure kicked the hornet's nest this time!'
Unable to escape, the Anbu Captain, in charge of the FOB (Forward Operating Base), sees the writing on the walls as more mutants continue bearing down upon the compound. One after another, shinobi of various hidden villages begin taking their own lives rather than endure the horrific fate that awaits them all. Anbu Captain Panther's deteriorating circumstances worsen as the late stages of chakra exhaustion settle in. With nothing but the screams of his fellow shinobi echoing throughout the halls for company, Panther whispers a silent prayer to himself before cocking a shotgun and placing the barrel against the roof of his mouth.
'I'm sorry, everyone… I've failed all of you. May you all find peace in the Pure Land.' With the last of his chakra, the Anbu Captain pulls the trigger, bespattering the wall with brain matter before the Red Zetsus break down the barricades and consume his remains.