The cool night air did little to calm his racing thoughts as he processed the bizarre scene below.
"Kojiro's gotten this powerful in just a few months?" he muttered, his brow furrowed. "How did we miss this?"
His eyes swept over the Land of Waves, a tiny island most people couldn't even find on a map. Now it seemed to be ground zero for something worse than he could have imagined.
"If the Mizukage hadn't sent me to check on Kojiro, we might never have known," Zabuza realized. How close they had come to missing this threat entirely.
He shook his head, refocusing on the task at hand. Stealthily, he made his way across the rooftop, careful not to alert those gathered below.
This area, he noted, wasn't dedicated to melting gold but rather to processing the molten metal into coins on an assembly line.
Two long assembly lines divided the islanders into three groups.
"Huh, these folks can actually form lines," he thought, surprised. It wasn't just the villagers he'd seen earlier – people from all over the island had shown up.
As he scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowed. Something didn't add up.
"Wait a minute," he mumbled. "Shouldn't there be more people here?"
He remembered what Tazuna had said about everyone worshiping Dagon. "So why isn't the whole island here for this gathering?"
As he pondered these questions, his attention was drawn to the objects clutched in the villagers' hands.
Each held a stone statue in their hands, facing the platform at the front as if waiting for something.
His keen eyes picked out the details of the statues – they were identical to the one the Takahashi family had carved. Even the bloodstains from cut palms were there.
"Those must be the 'trinkets' Tazuna mentioned," he realized.
As he observed, he noticed something odd about the statue held by the red-robed priest. It looked similar, but didn't give him the same strange feeling when he looked at it.
"Is that priest's statue different somehow?" he mused, filing away this observation for later consideration.
Before he could delve deeper into this mystery, a commotion at the front of the room caught his attention.
A group was making its way to the platform, led by a man in a dark red robe that was almost black.
Zabuza's eyes widened as he recognized the figure. "Kojiro!"
But it was the sight of the men following Kojiro that truly shocked him. Among the eleven, he recognized two as members of Kiri's assassination unit.
He recalled the nine Anbu members sent to hunt Kojiro, never to return. The village had assumed them dead, but the truth was far more disturbing.
"I never expected they had actually joined him," he thought, struggling to comprehend the betrayal.
The concept of Anbu ninjas turning against their village was almost unthinkable. These were supposed to be the most loyal, the most dedicated shinobi.
Apart from the nine Kiri Anbu, there were two shorter individuals who also appeared to be ninjas. Unlike the villagers, they showed no signs of degeneration, indicating their combat abilities were intact.
Twelve highly skilled ninjas, including the formidable Kojiro himself, constituted a force that even most other ninja teams would struggle to resist.
And if Kojiro possessed some kind of additional power, as the bizarre ritual suggested, he would be even more dangerous.
"This is a threat to the Land of Water," Zabuza concluded grimly. "I must report the situation here to the Mizukage as soon as I return."
His attention was drawn back to the platform as Kojiro began to speak, his voice carrying easily through the space.
"My lambs!" he called out, his arms spread wide in a gesture of embrace. "We gather here to praise the great Heavenly Father and Savior!"
The crowd stirred, a low murmur of excitement rippling through the gathered islanders.
"When the stars align, the dreamt-of underwater temple will finally descend!" the missing-nin continued, his voice rising in fervor.
"On that day, we shall be freed from the shackles of flesh, finding our place in that wondrous realm, witnessing His great reawakening!"
The crowd swayed in unison, their eyes glazed with fanatical devotion. Zabuza's gaze swept over them, noting the vacant expressions and the way their bodies seemed to move unnaturally.
"This is our destiny, as it was for our grandparents and great-grandparents," Kojiro proclaimed.
"Our brethren, the Deep Ones, await us in that land. There, we shall forever bask in the glory of miracles, eternally serving our master."
The gathered crowd swayed in unison, caught up in the fervor of his words. Zabuza noticed that even some of the more lucid-looking individuals seemed entranced.
A cultist near the front called out. "Just like Brother Akira! He's so much happier now, so much closer to our lord!"
Kojiro nodded approvingly at the cultist's words. "Indeed! Our numbers are endless, our power unimaginable!"
"All who oppose the great Cthulhu shall be torn to pieces!"
The crowd's fervor reached a fever pitch as Kojiro led them in a chant.
"Praise Dagon!"
"Praise Cthulhu!"
"Long live Cthulhu!"
He raised his hands, and the crowd fell silent. With a gesture, he motioned to someone offstage.
"In his eternal house at R'lyeh, the dead Cthulhu waits dreaming," he intoned solemnly.
Two figures were roughly dragged onto the platform, their hands bound tightly behind their backs. Zabuza leaned forward, straining to see who they were.
He was a bit shocked as he recognized them both – the owner of the tavern across from the Land of Waves, and the drunken bridge builder, Tazuna.
The tavern owner looked like he'd given up, his head bowed and shoulders slumped. Tazuna, on the other hand, was struggling against the ropes.
"No! No, you can't do this!" Tazuna shouted, his voice hoarse with fear. "I didn't mean to say anything! I was drunk, I didn't know what I was saying!"
One of the cultists struck him across the face, shutting him up. The tavern owner remained quiet, but his eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for any chance of escape.
Kojiro turned to face the prisoners, a benevolent smile on his face.
"My lambs," he said softly, "why do you resist? Don't you see the glory that awaits us all?"
He then approached the prisoners, his voice taking on a mock-soothing tone. "Don't be afraid. You're about to receive a great gift."
Tazuna spat at Kojiro's feet. "Gift? You call that abomination a gift? I'd rather die!"
The crowd grumbled angrily. Two cultists stepped forward, roughly grabbing him. The bridge builder cried out as they twisted his arms.
The tavern owner, seeing the other prisoner's treatment, finally broke his silence. "Please," he begged. "I have a family. Children. Don't do this."
Kojiro's laugh was cold and devoid of mercy. "Your family will join you soon enough. They'll know the joy of serving our lord too."
The tavern owner raised his head, meeting his gaze. "I... I never wanted this," he whispered. "I just wanted to run my tavern in peace."
"Peace?" the missing-nin laughed again. "What is the peace of a simple tavern compared to the eternal bliss that awaits us in the depths? You'll understand soon enough."
He turned to address the crowd once more. "Behold, my brothers and sisters! These two have strayed from the path, but tonight, they shall be redeemed!"
The islanders got excited again, murmuring and swaying.
"Brother Akira," Kojiro called out, "come show our lost friends how great it feels to change!"
Someone stepped out of the crowd. It was the man who'd been changed earlier – Akira. But now, instead of the scared human he'd been, Akira moved silently, his fish-like eyes locked on the two prisoners.
"S-see?" Akira gurgled, his voice a wet, inhuman sound. "No more doubt... no more fear... only joy... only Cthulhu..."
Tazuna struggled harder as Akira came closer. "No! Get away from me, you monster!"
But it was no use. Two cultists held him still as Akira reached out with webbed hands.
"Embrace... the change..." Akira burbled.