Chapter 11: Fierce Battle, Purple Lightning!
Boom—
The massive blade cleaved straight through Gen—
Or so it seed.
In the next second, the figure splattered into a ss of earth.
"Earth Clone?"
Jūzō’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t even noticed when the kid cast the jutsu.
Shing! Shing! Shing!—
A barrage of senbon and kunai rained from all directions.
"Tch. Child’s play."
Jūzō snorted. With a blur, his executioner’s blade spun into a deadly dance of steel.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Each projectile was deflected, ringing sharply against the heavy tal of his sword.
Even under a sudden ambush, Jūzō proved why he was once one of the Seven Ninja Swordsn of the Mist—his swordsmanship alone was enough to repel most enemies.
In the chaos of steel clashing, his sharp eyes locked onto a moving shadow.
"Found you, brat."
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
Gen didn’t hesitate. The instant he was spotted, he ford hand seals and launched a massive fireball roaring toward Jūzō.
"Water Style: Water Formation Wall!"
Jūzō’s instincts kicked in—no room for arrogance here. Even an elite jōnin could be killed by a careless mont.
Especially since the boy had ntioned reinforcents—possibly ANBU—Jūzō wasn’t about to hold back.
Ssssssshh—
The scorching fireball crashed against the surging water wall, erupting into clouds of hissing steam.
"Invisible again... damn mist."
Gen cursed under his breath as he ford more hand signs.
"Earth Style: Earth Wall!"
Massive slabs of rock erupted around him, forming a protective shell.
"Not bad... fast hand seals for soone his age."
Jūzō could still see clearly. After all, he was born of the Mist—the thick fog was his natural hunting ground.
He scoffed and began weaving his own signs.
"What an idiot. Fighting a Mist Ninja in mist? You’ve already lost."
"Water Style: Water Dragon Jutsu!"
A monstrous dragon of water tore through the mist, roaring as it crashed into the stone walls around Gen.
BOOM—
The earth walls crumbled like paper. Gen’s form was obliterated—only to burst apart into splashing droplets.
Jūzō surged forward, cutting through the haze like a reaper.
The kid’s defenses were down—this was the perfect opening!
But... sothing was wrong.
He paused.
There was a chakra—intense, unstable, unnatural.
It prickled at his skin, set his instincts on fire.
"What... is that?"
Then he saw it.
Within the mist and shattered stone, Gen stood still—eyes closed, face calm—
Surrounded by flickering arcs of eerie violet lightning.
Electricity pulsed around him like the breath of a storm—twisting, crackling, beautiful and terrifying.
"I’ve been waiting for you."
Gen’s eyes snapped open as he lifted his head, a faint smile on his face.
"And thanks... for creating the perfect environnt for ."
The mont he spoke, the purple lightning surged—wild and violent like a dam breaking.
Jūzō’s eyes widened in horror as the lightning leapt through the mist and water in the air—
Directly at him.
---
Elsewhere—
"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"
"Earth Style: Earth Wall!"
The duel between Kakashi and Itachi had already begun.
Itachi’s hand seals were blisteringly fast, each jutsu perfectly executed. Even Kakashi found himself struggling to keep up.
But it wasn’t surprising.
Itachi was a genius in every field—ninjutsu, taijutsu, genjutsu—he had mastered them all.
Worse still, his battle IQ was absurdly high.
Like Kakashi himself, Itachi preferred a reactive style—waiting, analyzing, then countering decisively.
"I need to force him into a mistake..."
Kakashi tried to strategize—but that single mont of distraction nearly cost him.
Shhk—
Itachi appeared behind him like a ghost, kunai already at his back.
"Kakashi-senpai... you should never let your guard down in battle."
"Hmph. Just what I’d expect from you, Itachi."
Lightning crackled from Kakashi’s body—
And in the blink of an eye, he dispersed into a surge of electricity.
"Lightning Clone?"
The shock gripped Itachi’s body before he could react.
"Too late."
Kakashi erged from underground, Chidori flashing in his hand, aid straight for Itachi’s chest.
But—
"Is that so?"
Itachi’s voice ca from the clone—not a flicker of panic in it.
"Then what about you?"
"What—"
Kakashi’s eyes widened.
The clone he struck—its chakra was irregular, surging.
BOOM!
The clone exploded in a violent blast, tearing through the forest and flinging Kakashi back.
He landed in a heap, breathing hard, dirt and smoke swirling around him.
"Too dangerous... he’s too dangerous."
His Sharingan spun slowly, desperately scanning for Itachi—
But his thoughts kept drifting toward Gen.
That chakra from earlier... that blast... that wasn’t normal.
Still, Itachi wasn’t giving him ti to think.
"That eye... it doesn’t suit you."
Itachi stepped calmly out of the smoke, eyes locked on Kakashi.
"And your chakra—it’s almost depleted."
"True."
Kakashi gave a wry smile.
"But I don’t need to win—just stall long enough for ANBU to arrive."
"You’re mistaken."
Itachi’s voice dropped an octave.
"You can’t even use the Sharingan properly... let show you what it really ans to wield its power."
His eyes shut for a mont—
Then reopened, burning with the Mangekyō Sharingan.
"Now... witness the true power of these eyes."
A cold, alien chakra spread from him like a tidal wave.
"No—!"
Kakashi’s vision warped. The world twisted—black and white, bleeding at the edges.
When his senses cleared, he found himself crucified on a cross in an empty void.
"Welco to the world of Tsukuyomi."
Itachi appeared before him, calm and rciless.
"In this world, I control ti, space, even mass itself."
He raised his blade—
And stabbed Kakashi in the gut.
"The pain is real. The damage is real. And for the next seventy-two hours..."
"You’ll feel everything."
Slash—Slash—
Two more strikes. Agonizing. Unbearable.
"This... this genjutsu..."
Kakashi gritted his teeth. Blood seeped from his mouth as dozens of Itachis appeared, blades gleaming.
The pain mounted.
The screams echoed in his mind.
He couldn’t even lift a finger.
"Don’t worry."
Itachi’s voice seed to co from everywhere and nowhere.
"We’ve got plenty of ti."
But—just as the next blade fell—
His movent froze.
Kakashi noticed it too. Sothing—sothing unnatural—had interrupted the genjutsu.
Through the cracks in this false world, a flicker of purple lightning shone.
And even Itachi’s eternal calm cracked for the briefest of monts.
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