Masquerade--

[Nappers]

+ + + +

A thunderous bang echoed throughout the village as an explosion tore through one side of Iwa's colloseum-like Arena. Bodies and debris rocketed into the air as the once tranquil scene was brought forth into chaos.

Through the plume of smoke and ash several Ninja plummeted through. A slew of Earth Type jutsu crushed masses of the Yuki invadors. The Tsuchikage's team, The Council, had come.

Seven of them, including the Tsuchikage Hikado had come and reinforced the 'captive' forces of Iwa.

"They will not take Iwa from us," Hikado encouraged as he ploughed through weak gatherings of Ninja and mercenaries.

Reinforcements of Yuki flooded into the stadium along with a multitude of hidden Iwa and former NCIA forces unearthed from beneath the ground, the tunnel network caved in and exploded forceibly beneath the stadium, from which the forces came.

A sinnister laugh reverberrated within the stadium. Some looked about in fear while others continued disregarding the sounds.

The grand final stand was upon them, and they had the Tsuchikage on their side. He stood tall in the centre of the grand battlefield. The odd Ninja charged at him screaming slurrs and tossing weapons but they were easily swept aside, just another person adding to the body count.

"Show yourself."

"Why are you so eager to meet your end Yoshikazu? Aren't you afraid? I've grown far more powerful than you shall ever be you do realize," the voice continued to reverberate within the arena.

"I've defeated you before."

"You live in a world of fantasy," winds gathered and encircled the Tsuchikage. The vortex built up picking up the ash and dirt, bodies and debris. The ash formed together into a figure. Rippling and molding on itself it soon settled and so did the winds. The Devil himself stood before the Tsuchikage.

"Madara."

"Dearest Friend," the man smiled as his eyes flickered red and the tomoe spiraled into one another. His voice continued to boom on the winds as though blaring from the commentators speakers. "Fitting don't you think, that we should end it here at this ampitheatre? This grand masquerade. Yoshikazu."

"It's Hikado. Your web of lies won't fool the people of Iwa. My people."

"Your people? Bah! Hikado, born in Metropolis, trained as Ninja in Iwa. Patron of good? It's all bullshit. Yoshikazu. Child of the North. Trained as Ninja in Yuki. Agent in Iwa. Traitor to the Princess."

"And you? Patron of Hell? Slayer of thousands? Bringer of pestilence?"

"Bringer of Justice. For your crimes against the nations of both Yuki and Iwa. This man--" Madara pointed as he paused and laughed, "-- he claims to be the saviour of Iwa. A traitor to two nations. He opened the doors of Iwa to Kumo two years ago. In quitting allegiance to the Princess and killing her noble guards in assanition attempt, in attempt to rule the country; I stopped him. In his desire for power he cut a deal with Kumo. He handed Iwa over to Kumo. He fought against Iwa under guise of another. I was there too.."

"And I killed you that day Madara."

"And the truth shall set you free? Alas my dear friend. Your crimes are too far for that. The Princess desires your end," with his words he went through a slew of hand seals.

"Lies. Lies. All lies!" Hikado's voice intensified with rage. His veins bulged and his skin warmed red.

"Katon: Shounetsujigoku"

(Fire Type: Burning Hell) lvl 4

Katon: Shounetsujigoku (Fire Type: Burning Hell) lvl 4

Type: Ninjutsu (Clan, Fire)

Rank: Kage/Sennin

Cost: 1000

Damage: 600

Effect: Area Effect Jutsu. Damage is dealt on the following turn. Apply 50% Resistance to calculate damage.

Description: By drawing in a deep breath, the Ninja shoots fireballs high into the sky, which will pick up velocity and then rain down on everyone on the battlefield. This is a truly deadly attack.

"Doton: Retsudotenshō"

(Earth Release: Split Earth Turn Around Palm) lvl 3

Earth Release: Split Earth Turn Around Palm lvl 3 (Doton: Retsudotenshō)

Type: Ninjutsu (Clan, Fire)

Rank: Kage/Sennin

Cost: 300 per attack, 4 max.

Damage: 250 per attack.

Effect: Multi-attack Jutsu. If two or more attacks hit the target becomes Dizzy and Immobilized for 2 turns. Apply 50% of evasive modifiers.

Description: This technique allows the ninja to control nearby rocks to surround and attack the enemy with them.

+ + + +

The Final Battle: 2ooo-unlimited words.

[cntrstrk14]

~Final Battle

Guardian

Blood. Sweat. Conscience.

Syaoran had been fighting for what seemed like hours, the amount of people that had fallen at his side and at his sword tolled to many, the amount he was unable to save, from himself and from the ones he himself had not taken. It was pure madness and Syaoran's sword had was dulling.

‘Hikado… where are you…?'

Like an answer to his prayer the earth split open and broke through the enemy line like a shark fin through the water. Enemy went flying into the air and all Syaoran and the team about him could do was shield their eyes from the powerful blast that tore through the broken arena. It was him, it was him at last. And he was not alone. The entire council of Iwagakure no Sato stood with him, all ready to fight. Syaoran had not even realized that the council was fit to fight, he had always pictured them as an old withered bunch of ex ninja, but the proud shinobi set before him were not so.

Six ninja, led by the seventh, Hikado himself swept across the battlefield and cut through the enemies like so much paper. They tossed themselves at him, screaming obscenities and tossing weaponry. Nothing could touch him, and Syaoran was transfixed for that moment, the moment in which he saw his savior, the man that would cut down the threat to Iwagakure no Sato with his own hand.

The man he aspired to be.

Snapping out his transfixion Syaoran turned back to the enemy, who had begun to rise, like an undying horde that stood in the way no matter how they were cut. The enemy were no longer people, or an army of a country. They were an ideal. An ideal that stood against everything Syaoran hoped to live for. He felt renewed, his strength came back to him like he had not felt since they had taken back Metropolis, no, he had not felt this even then. He had the power now, it was so close he could taste it. His goal was getting within his reach and the closer he came the more he could feel it.

Tsuchikage.

Turning to the men to either side of him, they looked back at him with a smirk. He was the supposed right hand man of Hikado after all, even if there were others in the village stronger than him they had turned to him. Smiling back to them he turned and looked at the enemy, re-gripping his katana in his hand.

"This is it, no time for speeches men. Give it your all, there is no battle after this one.”

This was especially true for Syaoran, he had held back thus far, not using his bloodline, and when he did using the lower branches as to conserve himself. Well, there was nothing left, his arm was still useless, a old wound that took to long to heal. He would manage, his full strength still gimped but he could take out most of the fools here.

Confidence was key.

The chakra picked up around Syaoran, the swirling fires of blue that engulfed him flickered, like sparks off of flint at the ground around him. Gold sparks, his eyes shone brightly, his clan emblem, tattooed onto his upper right arm like a brand, given by his elders, whom died for the same emblem and the same village he fought for. The birthright of a thousand Alchem, tens of generations, fueled his core now. He had reached out and grasped the purpose of his disposition.

He Was A Guardian.

‘I will do this for the Alchem. I was not able to fight with them at their last stand, but I survived to protect Iwagakure today. I will not let them just die out here!'

The blue flame that had engulfed him, swirling about him had caught aflame. Like a fire burning through paper house the flame burned golden. He was a beacon on the field, the flashes of gold flickering through the dust as many fought, unnoticing of the chakra. But his allies noticed and his enemies noticed. And that was all that mattered.

-Flicker-

The enemy lines were cut, chest separated from waists, Yuki ninja and mercenary forces landing on the ground dead. Syaoran and the small band of men with him had clashed with the enemy, the two forces clashing metal, jutsu shooting of with flashes of violent light as men screamed out from both sides. Flickering of blades, clashing of steel, the cries of jutsu.

...It was the song of the ninja.

767

[Ravage Nocturne]

######

It was a gamble, his current destination. While the Arena could act as the perfect origin for the final encounter, it would also be a foolish tactic. Although open and clear to the eye, it would soon be filled with the bodies of countless shinobi, rendering the Tsuchikage an easy target. It would be so much more difficult to identify the assassins that were the Uchiha Clan. Madara, Nevan, and himself. They were the wolves of this world, and they had once tasted the flesh of treason, and yearned to finish the meal they had begun so long ago. These were hunters of impossible quality, and with an unquenchable thirst they would complete their objective. Blazing a trail by defining just what justice was, they would sever their ties with this man, and sentence him to death. Penance for the crimes he had committed with such indifference and pride. His eyes cold and calculating, he watches the earth below him as he steps through the sky, Chakra blazing beneath his feet and keeping him afloat. Yes, there was a large mass of shinobi sporting the Iwagakure style of clothing entering the Arena. Had the man actually chosen this as his final stand point? Would his grave be crafted within the Arena itself? In some way, it felt fitting. Although a criminal in his own sense, the man would die fighting, and what place better than an Arena? The final Colosseum that would claim the remnants of his soul. Yes, this would be the final stand, wouldn't it?

Having finally arrived upon the area designated last as the place that such a man would thrive, Shinaki blinks slowly as he descends upon the edge of the Arena, standing strong as a single, lone force. Chakra swelling around his features, taking on a magnificent dark hue, it swirls and grasps towards the sky above, and threatens to conceal his very form. Powerful and focused, his body remained stalwart and confident as he allows his gaze to jump from one person to the next, reading each and every individual Chakra signature, declaring and distinguishing the more powerful foes. Within his eyes whirled the triplicate tomoe, glorious and alive within the sea of crimson, his eyes a serious tool upon which he would exert his greatest efforts. Taking slow steps, he begins to travel towards the center of this immaculate stage, upon which he would conclude the final act of this play. From bleacher to bleacher his sole presses, first in a slow and guided method, and then in quickened pace. Exhibiting a gliding nature to his movements, he practices caution as he directs his momentum from step to step, before launching himself into the air, gliding for a fraction of a second as he spirals throughout the universe. Inhaling sharply, his fingers blur as they form esoteric yet meaningful symbols, his chest stretching as oxygen floods his lungs, tearing them from the pressure building. In a single exhalation, forced from between his lips flows the spiraling inferno, a guided missile with one single purpose: to extinguish the sparks that lend life to the souls of these fools. Everything moved slowly as the amphetamines enter his blood stream, amplifying his sense of perception and reactions, offering a forbidden taste of the true power behind the human mind, when those gates were released for but a moment.

He was nameless on this field. This realm of combat deemed him a threat, and nothing more. There were no fancy appellations that could stick to this glorious form, and no titles could define the true latent skill that raged within. Pressing his index finger and thumb together, a mere flicking motion releases a small projectile of Chakra, simple in form but deadly in practice, that pierces the thorax of all opposing, tearing away the linings of the lungs or heart. Breaking past the sternum, they were bullets of simple design. With fluency he exacts his true prowess, releasing a hellfire by extending his Chakra to his surroundings, condemning the flesh of those around him to forever feed the voracious appetite of some demon, the flames angry and fluid as they crash through every inferior shinobi. He was a dangerous tool that Madara wielded, and already he was proving his effectiveness as he continued to approach his master. Eyes dead set upon the one he so worshiped on the inside, they slowly began to contort into a far more dangerous form, evolving into the Mangekyou Sharingan once more. Capricious and wild, they spin as foreign Chakra is sensed, commanding his body to react to hidden attack. Dancing to and to, his feet glide across the ground as he leans backwards, forwards, and sideways, evading the strikes of the shinobi of Iwagakure. They could never touch him.

He was not of their league.

This world of Shadow and of Light, it moved slowly to the Uchiha. His vacant, vapid stare conducted an extraordinary feature, and sought to predict the actions and reactions of all surrounding him with precision and skill. Foresight and Hindsight aided the lad as he passed through body and body, seeking the man that his master so longed to slay. There were obvious masters of combat within this Arena, and he actively sought to avoid them, having no intention of engaging with a ninja that could serve as a means of barring him from spectating the glorious match that would occur in mere moments. He had to see his master's dream become realized. With a wave of dismissal, he banishes a group of pesky shinobi from his presence with an enormous display of might, a series of flames erupting from the earth and grasping their extremities, pulling them below the soil. It was a quick and dirty way to dispose of obstacles, but he hadn't been playing fair all the long, had he? Snorting at the sheer concentration of opposition, he considers the density of the Iwagakure sympathizers on this field in comparison to Madara's army. They were outnumbered, but by no means outmatched. Releasing a current of water, he fires a riptide into a handful of ninja before him, causing the rapid flow and ebb to suffocate and disable the forces within moments of the occurrence, allotting him more time to press on towards Madara. This was madness, the land that chaos and disorder ruled with an iron fist. Not a single region of this place was sterile of violence, the battle raging on forever and ever, so far as the eye could see. Although he wished Nevan were at his side, he figured his brother could more than handle himself. He had been witness to the might that lay within him, and for this reason he was confident in their success. There would be no way that failure could override their desires.

######

[Exodus]

Godsend ~

(The Champion.)

D

ay

D

reamer.

The emphasis of death had never been so definite. The bounds of delusion had never been so broken. In this distinct moment in time; the world was their own. It was here that Nevan clutched the opportunity to understand the truth of those he fought for, and the truth behind his intention. Perched atop the highest fracture of the stadium; Nevan stood with head held in high regard. He watched from behind that vicious mask as the world and the people in it turned from who they truly were. At last he had found his friend, his comrade and a brother by all means, spilling the blood of others without rationalization. This was not him, this was not the protector he had once witnessed before their true enemies; this was a lie.

Nevan was not here for battle, he was here to expose the truth to the people of Iwagakure, but people pushed for war nonetheless. People pushed for the solemn depth of death that would burden their soul. Madara had revealed to them a hint of times gone by that would in fact provide an understanding to all this; but nothing was taken into consideration. Not even the blatant ignorance of the truth that Hikado had put on show. He couldn't believe; that these people were so war craven that their false nature turned out to be nothing less of what the Uchiha was condemned of. Hypocrites.

A frightening scorn birthed inside lifeless eyes. The fire rekindled behind the mask before the battle could be brought to him. No, he would not become a slaughter of men; not here and not in the place he had sacrificed himself to fetch justice, there were other ways and Syaoran knew this but refused to exercise it. The moment of clarification was interrupted to no end when the hesitation of another had crossed his space. The man was not special; he looked similar to those that already lay pasted against the stadium floor in a pool of their own blood, those that threw their life away without respect. The triplicate tomoe assessed his breathing, his physical anomalies and the manner at which he approached. Nevan did nothing.

"Go home.”

The warning was silent but held too it a frightening audible that the opponent could understand quite well. His hesitation increased and the realization was brought to him. At this point, he might contemplate the relationship with a loved one, his family or the life of which he had worked so hard to maintain; coming to an end. There was no denying that simple truth, and Nevan was right; to avoid losing it all, he had to step away from this battle. The man trembled and took another step towards Nevan from his blind side. Nevan did nothing. Gamble was the situation and the stakes were in favor of the Uchiha Prince, the other man was just above Chuunin level, but his state of mind didn't show it. The fear, the hesitation and all consistent passion swallowed his common sense and the man bolted towards Nevan on a slant viewpoint. A simple side step could lead the man to trip up and stumble down the vast assortment of rows.

Nevan shifted and caught the man by his vest before he could fall to his death. In quick succession, the Crimson Dragon reeled his target backwards before driving his hand across his neck in a simultaneous movement with the sweep of his leg. The stubborn opponent lay flat on his front and without consciousness; but he was alive and in good health. A bothered sigh lightened the mood of the assault and Nevan leaned forth to sit next to the man he had just downed. Sitting next to him; he watched onward as the battle continued. Each prospect of this battle still remain; Madara, Hikado, Syaoran and his lost brother – Asher.

• • • •

(652)

[cntrstrk14]

The words Madara spoke made no difference to Syaoran. He did not care of Hikado's past, or if he had aided in the overturning of Iwa to Kumo. He had his reasons, and no one could have stood against Kumo at that point. Even if he had fought valiantly on the side of Iwa and died in the course of action, that would mean Iwa would still be under Kumo rule. What mattered was what kind of man he was now. He had brought the country back to the people. Even now, they were the ones invading the village, killing citizens, destroying buildings. Everything they had worked for was being lost. And what for? To overturn a phony Tsuchikage? That was bullshit. Even if Hikado was an evil mastermind, the casualties and destruction that they had brought was to great to be considered a lesser evil. Even now Hikado fought them off, fought for the village. He was a true hero, not these Yuki ninja, or this foe that fought now.

‘Was that why Nevan had left? Was he swayed by this man into thinking Hikado was a traitor?!?!? Nevan….' Syaoran's hand clenched into a fist at the thought. He hoped Nevan had not been swayed so easily.

‘No, he must be imprisoned somewhere, and after this man is killed I will force his location out of him. Then go and set him free. There is no way the Nevan I know would do such a thing…'

The plan was set up; it seemed they were all here now. The Yuki forces had converged unto the Arena, only unloyal mercenaries still roamed the village, looking for anything they could steal or pillage. There were two three man teams combing the village, slowly taking these lone ones out. Reaching up to his ear as he kicked a Yuki ninja into a crowd of enemies he pushed in on a small button.

-kkzzzzzt-

"Have they all moved within the arena?”

"All but a few who are resting outside from battle. They are within the perimeter though.”

"Good, go ahead and activate it.”

-kkzzzzzt-

Letting his hand fall Syaoran sheathed his katana, the blade guard clicking into the sheathe as it fit all the way into it. Syaoran was unaware of Nevan as he looked down at him and watched. Saw him fighting the enemies of Iwagakure no Sato, whom came into his own village, destroyed his buildings, killed his citizens. They had incited war upon them, whatever their cause they had come fully armed and attacking before Iwagakure had ever heard of them. If they had wanted a peaceful resolution they would have contacted the village before blowing a hole in the side of it. No, Syaoran was not a fool to seek for a peaceful resolution with something so precious to him on the line. Iwagakure no Sato was more important to him than ideals or his own damnation through murders.

Cutting down another mercenary Syaoran looked around at the arena. They were winning, they were actually winning. As the mercenary forces fell like flies and the Yuki ninja started to crumble too the forces could be seen clearly. Iwa was outnumbered, but considering a large amount of the men left were mercenaries, the balance of skilled fighters was obviously tipping in their favor. Though this did not mean they had won, that was far from here and relied on a few more factors. It just means that for once in the sorry existence of the village that they would be able to fight with a chance to win to protect the village.

At this moment though, upon all sides of the arena, a purple barrier reached up far into the sky and then closed in just as quickly. They were now within a barrier that could only be broken from the outside, no matter how strong the ninja were. The plan had been a success, even if the Tsuchikage died, if all the Iwa forces were destroyed, the Yuki ninja and this man who was now locked in combat with Hikado would not be able to escape. Syaoran had constructed this plan when he had heard they were all closing in on the arena, and it was now sprung.

"Shishienjin.”

(Four Violet Flames Battle Encampment)

The plan was flawless, the barrier would hold forever if need be. There was a man stationed at each of the corners of the barrier, along with the rest of a three man cell. One medical ninja and two other ninja, at least one of which knew the barrier jutsu in case the original caster was struck down. Scanning over the battle Syaoran could now see the fight that took place between the two head ninja, though it seems it had just started and dust had swept over the arena, making it hard to see exactly what was going on. Then he saw him. Another ninja moving down from the side of the arena, with a sweep of his hand an eruption of flame from the earth bound his opponents and drew them underground. He was good, but before Syaoran could decide to engage him, before he interrupted the main battle at hand he stopped himself, and just watched it. He seemed of no interest to join the main battle, and for that Syaoran was grateful. In the moment's lull he too stopped on the stands and just watched the battle unfold.

‘The trap is sprung, I took care of the village. Now whether we all live or die in here is up to you Hikado.' Syaoran thought, still completely in the dark as to why they had attacked the village, all he knew was that as long as Hikado fought with them they could not loose.

Syaoran still believed in him.

1734

[Ravage Nocturne]

"Hmmph."

Watching as the violet flames leap from corner to corner, each a pillar that would enclose the Arena, Shinaki finds himself distraught and rather disappointed in himself for having failed to catch such a simple strategy. It was surely one devised by one of Hikado's underlings, for it was juvenile and immature. A simple barrier could never hold hostage the duplicate heirs to the Uchiha Throne, and the king himself. However, such a device was not the priority of the young man, and with quick steps he began to close the distance between himself and Madara, his king. The Mangekyou Sharingan livid and screaming, it spirals violently as it draws in the environment and interprets its every moment with simplicity and ease. Shadows within shadows, the cursed thing predicts the future, and does so unscrupulously and dangerously. Murmurs began to rise from the Yukigakure army, the servants of Madara, that the Black Swordsman was afoot, and that he would exact revenge with his blades. Snorting at the fear instilled within the foolish minions, he ignores their trifling over such a being, and considers brushing off the entire thing, had he not caught a glimpse of the Alchem in action. Perhaps the only shinobi other than Madara and Hikado that could rival himself in terms of skill and power. Grimacing as he imagines the possible engagement at a later point, he directs his attention to the opposite commander. The two stood as generals, though in opposition and belief. How miraculous that they would be gathered together on the same field. The two gods of their worlds, and then their very souls. How fitting, this battle. However, Shinaki had no intention of actually dueling the Black Swordsman, as he had far more important things to accomplish at this time. Risking a downfall could result in dampening of morale and efficiency on Madara's part, and he could not act against the one he fought for. No, consideration of his own pride would be halted until further notice. Madara's war was far more important.

Making sure to avoid contact with the other, he steps lightly across the Arena, guarding his intentions of remaining unnoticed and otherwise concealed within the slaughter. Granted, it was entirely possible that he could eliminate each and every potential user of the Ninjutsu, if he dispatched the original caster, but again, it was a minor detail in this world. He would not escape his place of his own will or any other, and would fight to the death if it came to that. Shifting his weight, he strides through the offenses of the Iwagakure soldiers, each movement beautifully unique and simplistic, the way a snowflake is. Constructed with purpose, it falls to aesthetic pleasure alone in the world of the Uchiha. Nothing would touch him. Nimbly advancing through the lines, he ducks and weaves to avoid garnering glances as he presses forwards. Penetrating the lines of defense, he found himself closing in on Hidako and Madara. He craved to witness this battle, more so than any other. If Madara would pass...if that was possible by any stretch of the imagination, what then? Of course, the death of Hikado would result in the finality of this futile war, at which point Madara would instate the new order. The first of many Villages, perhaps they could all be brought under the control of an Uchiha fist?

Spreading himself thin, he drops to his belly and presses his cheek into the soil as an incoming blade sweeps above him, fanning the back of his neck with a frightening wind. Rolling onto his back, he flips himself right-side, and rolls across his shoulder to escape an attempted grappling session. He had no desire to have the hands of another man gracing his form. No, this would not do at all, would it? He was drawing far too much attention to himself as he brought himself closer and closer to the two entities. Yes, the general, that Alchem, he would soon take notice of the Uchiha, and would he engage him? A silly question. It was fate that they would do battle. Inevitable and disappointing, Shinaki knew that he would probably end up becoming far too absorbed within his own intricities, and miss out on the grandiose spectacle. Snorting at the prediction, he begins to realize that perhaps an early engagement might result in release at an earlier point, thereby granting him sufficient time to view the murder of Hikado. Sighing heavily, he begins to rush towards that Alchem, the blood he knew only by the name being called out by his comrades. Although a sense of keen apprehension crawled across the skin of Shinaki, as though he was foolish for engaging a man of whom he did not know the limitations nor abilities, his damned pride only surged stronger. As the amphetamines bled into his nervous system, he felt free of all bindings as he strode next to the Alchem, pressing his back against the other's, drawing his arms around his chest, folding them appropriately. Offering a final whisper, he concludes fate, and begins to draw it from its shell. This would be the final battle of one of them.

"You will now fade to black."

[cntrstrk14]

“fool...”

Syaoran had watched as the man whom had used fire to bind the Iwa ninja took off, towards Hikado and his opponent. Moving through the small packs of Iwa and Yuki ninja as they fought, he seemed to dodge around and avoid any contact with them. His focus seemed to be on the two, was he mad? Would he try and interrupt their fight? Surely he was not strong enough to stand toe to toe with Hikado, but he may have a sway on the battle for the negative. Taking out a kunai and swinging it over his head he let it sail, not for the man, but for his destination. The kunai sunk deep into the side of a pillar that had been created from one of Hikado’s attacks and just stuck there. Reading himself Syaoran watched the man. If he were to move within a fifty meter radius of the two he would strike. But something unexpected happened. The man seemed to have taken notice of Syaoran, but not because of his kunai, no, it was something else. Changing direction approximately seventy meters from the two he came at Syaoran instead. Smirking Syaoran kept himself where he stood as the man closed in.

Two crimson eyes.

Another Uchiha. What was this? The ninth? Tenth with the arrival of Hikado’s opponent, whose eye’s also bled with the same deadly color. The temptation and thought of just numbering the members of the clan that showed up in his village was laughable, but now was not the time. He closed in quickly and before he knew it, the man appeared behind Syaoran with a flash and placing his back against Syaoran’s; he spoke smoothly.

"You will now fade to black."

The usual meaning the terms would hold did not hit him at first; instead he cracked a smile and shook his head a bit at the thought. Every time he had lately faded to black it had meant the end of his opponent, the cursed blade of Hinshi taking over his body and turning him into a killing machine.

“For your sake I hope that doesn’t happen.” Syaoran said, spinning and easily flickering a good ten meters down the stands, facing his opponent now.

“I suspect that you know whom I am, the way you could pick me out of the crowd. But by what name shall I call you?”

His tone light, he could tell by the man’s movements that he was not to just be brushed aside. He may be directly under Madara, for all Syaoran knew. He awaited an answer or action from the opponent, reaching up to his ear and tapping it one final time, he spoke in a low tone to the other team.

“Do not release the wall until the signal we discussed earlier is shown. I don’t care if Hikado himself tells you to take it down, I will take responsibility.”

Lowering his arm he stared back at the man, his eyes hidden behind the goggles he wore, and knowing the Uchiha tricks avoided eye contact if possible, instead focusing on the section just below his neck. It would not serve him well to fall for his hypnotism right at the start.

2258

[Ravage Nocturne]

Immaculate eyes of scarlet slowly begin to descend as he reads over the body of Syaoran, taking notice of the peculiar Chakra signature that flared iridescent and unique. Pressing his lips firmly into a grimace, he considers momentarily the nature of this shinobi, first at the heavy concentration of Chakra and secondly at the blades slung across his form. The reservoir of Chakra might suggest a mastery of the Ninjutsu of Genjutsu crafts, while the weapons themselves remained a clear and apparent sign of skill and ability. Bleeding together, Taijutsu and Ninjutsu might be somewhat overwhelming at this point in time, but with a quick breath he reassures himself. His Ninjutsu was second to none in most cases, so he needed not worry about the offensive nature of this lad. No, he could very well remain on the defensive until a ploy would rise in his mind. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants, he closes his eyes and raises his face towards the sky above. Bathing his face in the moonlight, he rushes his tongue across his lips, dampening them and pressing against the cracked texture. It had been so long since he had slept. Did he really have it in him for this? Already the Mangekyou Sharingan was swelling with pressure, engorging itself with Chakra, and spilling the mind into migraine. Pressure spikes cause him to flinch suddenly, before bringing a hand to his forehead, and sighing. Such a burden, this.

"What possible gain do you have from naming me?"

He states slowly and clearly, allowing his indifference and general apathy to shine through his exterior. Laced with a hint of surprise, he considers it strange that one would care so deeply about the name of an opponent in the thick of battle. He himself had never requested the name of a foe, and instead enjoyed remaining blissfully unaware of the one he would face. Attaching a name to a face only made it so much more awkward, if a life were to be taken. Allowing his Chakra to build up around him, he feels the warmth of the esoteric substance pool around the features of his face, heating his previously cold and dry skin with an unrivaled passion. For being in the position and circumstance he was in, he felt rather good. Catching notice of the Alchem's hiding behind those goggles, he offers a casual smile. Perhaps he figured him a manipulator of the Tsukiyomi? Sadly, he never received the proper training in the realm of Genjutsu, and suffered a horrid inability to craft terrifying illusion or convincing scenario. All in all, he was an expect of Ninjutsu, and nothing more.

"My eyes will play no tricks on you. I believe wholly in playing fair, when called for."

Although caution flags waved in the back of his mind, he found himself calming the intense doubt. Yes, he was in no real condition to pull this off, but then again, he had a talent hidden in his sleeve, and an impossible strategy, should circumstance call for it.

There was nothing to worry about.

Edited December 21, 2006 by Ravage Nocturne

[cntrstrk14]

"I would feel it my duty to report your death back to the Hokage when the times comes.”

Syaoran said this simply in response to his first inquiry. Though the Uchiha had also claimed to not want to play mind tricks, Syaoran would not give him the chance to otherwise. The man's word was not good enough, not when the stakes were so high.

His mind traced the opponent, if his words were true it would probably be foolish to fight him head on with Ninjutsu, he was obviously confident in his ability to fight toe to toe. But in time he would have to test that ability, because it would come down to that at some point, if Syaoran was forced to play out this fight for too long. His loss of one arm had proven to not be too much of a hindrance in the past fights, but this one would be different. He doubted that once he began to fight the man he would not notice the lack of a left arm. He watched the movements and actions, paying close attention to the tone of voice of the opponent. He lifted a hand to his head, a slight twitch of pain. Was he developing a headache? How long had he already had his bloodline activated? Maybe there was a time limit on his abilities, if he had not yet mastered the highest line of the Sharingan.

"Well, shall we?”

Syaoran said plainly, not wanting to wait another moment. Already drawn were his kunai from under the veil of the cloak, like a flash of light the cloak swirled as his arm arced, the kunai released and flying at the man. Rushing forward after the kunai Syaoran would make to keep the man in close range. His appearance did not seem to be one built for Taijutsu use, and if he was being honest and not one to play tricks he would more than likely not be a Genjutsu user. That only left Ninjutsu, which was usually best used at a mid range.

[Nappers]

+ + + +

The world was set ablaze, the end product of the Uchiha defender's Jutsu. Ninja, ally and hostile alike were scorched and turn to mounds of ash before they had any hope of screaming out in pain. The dominant man, harbringer of this war, smirked roguishly as he held up one hand with a simple seal.

"Academy Jutsu won't work on me dear friend," he said belittling his foe's ability and technique.

"Jutsu Shō"

(Technique Neutralize, 術消)

Technique Neutralize (Jutsu Shō, 術消)

Type: Ninjutsu (Void)

Rank: Jounin [sennin]

Cost: X

Effect: Used in the Response Phase, negate a target Ninjutsu or Genjutsu attack of equal or less rank to the user for the cost of X where X is the base chakra cost of targetted jutsu. May not be used against Taijutsu or Shojutsu. May target only one attack at any given time, and may only be used twice per battle.

Description: This jutsu cancels or impedes the occurring of the opponent's technique. It uses the same amount of chakra as the jutsu it intends to cancel.

The collosal mounds of earth that were being risen by whim of the Tsuchikage rattled as they were forced back into and beneath the ground. The two exchanged no words as the battle ensued. Drawing air into his lungs he filled his chest, manipulating chakra around his lips a single spark falred at his lips and then he bellowed out;

"Katon: Ranshi"

(Fire Type: Burning to Death) lvl 4

Katon: Ranshi (Fire Type: Burning to Death) lvl 4

Type: Ninjutsu (Clan, Fire)

Rank: Kage/Sennin

Cost: 70 per fireball (maximum of 10)

Damage: 70 per fireball

Effect: Multi Attack Jutsu. For each fireball that is hit beyond the first, apply -10% Resistance. (if 2 fireballs hit, opponent only uses 90% Resistance to calculate damage for all fireballs hit)

Description: By firing multiple fireballs at the opponent, the Ninja looks to smother them to death by the consuming flames of hell.

As the fireballs hurtled towards him the Tsuchikage, he slammed his plam onto the ground. Coursing chakra through his body and across the ground it slushed and slurred as the dense concrete and sand morphed, changing the field of play entirely.

"Daton Hijutsu: Deichuu"

(Earth Release Secret Technique: In the Mire)

Daton Hijutsu: Deichuu (Earth Release Secret Technique: In the Mire)

Type: Ninjutsu (Earth)

Rank: Chuunin

Cost: 250

Effect: Used in the Setup Phase. Changes the Terrain to: Muddy Ground

Muddy Ground: -15% to speed. Taijutsu suffers 5% fail chance. It takes an entire Setup Phase to move from long range to short range.

Description: A secret technique where the user utilizes their chakra to change the very ground beneath them, making it softer and more difficult to move on.

"Doton Doryuuheki"

(Earth Type; Rising Earth Wall) lvl 2

Earth Type; Rising Earth Wall (Doton Doryuuheki) lvl 2

Type: Ninjutsu (Earth)

Rank: Sennin

Cost: 650

Effect: Used in the Response Phase. Creates a wall with 1000 health points that absorbs damage from all non-Genjutsu string of attacks (of equal or less rank to the user) aimed at the user of this jutsu. If all damage is absorbed by the wall, effects are negated too; user suffers damage that is not negated by the wall. This wall crumbles after the turn in which it was used ends even if damage sustained did not destroy the wall. May be used three times per battle. Descripition: The user "vomits" a small wave of mud, which suddenly turns into a large wall made out of that mud. The mud solidifies and is virtually impenetrable.

Hikado followed this up with his own personal style Rising Wall. The fireballs crashed into the wall, it cracked and crumbled under the pressure and power of the Uchiha's jutsu yet it stood long enough to embrace each of the attacks.

"Same old tricks Madara." The Tsuchikage steadily went through a concentrated sequence of handseals.

"You won't take Iwa from me.."

"It was never yours to own. Admit it, this mere puff won't last long. You'll bring war to these lands if you live on. When Kumo is defeated and the Empire beaten back and the world is left in disarray. A new hope will be born to the Ninja continent? Of course not. War is what we all live for. Power is what you all want. Harmony can never exist with Ninja in the world."

"The future of the continent doesn't concern me. My people here are who I fight for. Who I will sacrifice my life for. The Princess sent you to eliminate me. Why? Because I betrayed her? Betrayed Yuki?"

"You know what you've done. Your failed assasination attempt of The Princess. Your conspiring against Yuki and your contribution to the fall of Iwa. That is why I am here. You are no Kage, you are a traitor to this nation even moreso than you are its saviour!" Madara took a firmer stance in the decietul mud. Placing his left hand over his right wrist he held both hands downwards. Tendrils of chakra whipped up about his palm before lashing out wide taking on Lightning form. The noise screeched about the arena as he powered up his technique.

Raikiri (Lightning Blade)

Type: Ninjutsu (Lightning)

Rank: Sennin

Cost: 650

Damage: 1000

Effect: Uses one (1) Setup Phase to charge and is used in the Main Phase, this charging costs an additional 200 Chakra and if the jutsu is not charged then its use will be treated as though it was their Third use. The Element of this jutsu may not be changed by any ability. Do not apply equipment bonuses or effects of the target against this technique. If the target uses jutsu in their Respone Phase against this technique its base cost is increased by 3x and that jutsu may not be used again for the remainder of the battle. If the user's speed is greater than the target's speed then this jutsu bypasses all shield type jutsu even if it were activated in a previous turn, do not apply their Resistance and do not apply their Evasion. Non-bloodline skills may not be used to negate or redirect damage of this technique. If this techinque scores a critical hit if it is successful.

Description: This jutsu is an enhanced form of the Chidori (One Thousand Birds), and has the same, albeit more powerful, effect. It has been fabled that with its application one could cut or split a bolt of lightning with it. This jutsu requires a larger amount of chakra and better chakra control. This is exemplified in their respective appearances. The Chidori (One Thousand Birds) creates a large mass of chakra in one hand that appears near-white, while the Lightning Blade is considerably more concentrated and appears in the normal blue color of chakra.

Restriction: When used a -SECOND- time in battle, user is Stunned and Immobilized for 1 turn. When used a -THIRD- time in battle, set user's Chakra to 0 and the user must roll a d10, a roll of 1-3 and the user dies. May not be used without the Sharingan. Skills including but not limited to Second Wind will not come into effect to revive the user.

Special: Count's towards the use limit of Chidori.

Requirements: Must know Chidori (One Thousand Birds; Lightning Edge) II & Lightning Speciality must be your primary elemental speciality.

"You're wrong Madara. The Princess tried to kill me for allegedly conspiring to overthrow her when I was spotted in conversation with Kumo forces. I was a prisoner. I assisted them in taking over Iwa. I helped them. So that Yuki would be safe. I always remained loyal to Yuki.. I would have handed over Iwa to Her Majesty if need be. I know you corrupted her thoughts Madara. For your own personal desire. For your hate. Your vengeance." all the while Hikado continued through his seals.

"When will you drop this elaborate masquerade? This show. Display. This pantomime. This grand stage for your to play hero to these people. I will free them of you.."

"I'm sorry I can't bring them back Madara.." Madara twitched at the mans appology. His crimson eyes spiraled with hate. Snarling he charged at the Tsuchikage, defender of Iwa.

"Raikiri!"

(Lightning Blade)

"Edo Fūmetsu"

(Impure World Destruction, 禁術 - 穢土封滅)

Forbidden Technique - Impure World Destruction (Kinjutsu - Edo Fūmetsu, 禁術 - 穢土封滅)

Type: Ninjutsu (Void)

Rank: Kinjutsu | Unacceptable

Cost: 750 (Response Phase) | 1200 (Main Phase)

Effect: May be used either in the Response Phase or the Main Phase.

Response Phase: Target Jutsu, including Forbidden Ninjutsu, used by a target of equal or less rank is completely negated. That technique may no longer be used for the remainder of battle. If a scroll was used, the scroll is also swallowed and lost forever. The user may not take any action in their Setup or Main Phases. May only be used once in such a way.

Main Phase: If successfull, the target is trapped within the coffin. They recieve two chances to break free at the cost of either 20% of their base total Chakra, Stamina or Health; once in the Setup Phase and once in their Main Phase. To beak free they must roll a d100, subtract that number from the level of the user. If that number is greater than the users (level*2)/3 then they break free. If they fail both times then they are trapped in the coffin and are dragged into non-existance. They are not considered dead but may only be brought back into existance by means of Forbidden Technique - Impure World Destruction: Reverse. During their time in non-existance they may not gain levels, train, or age, they are trapped within the coffin. May only be countered by a Kinjutsu of equal chakra cost. This technique may only be used once in such a way.

Description: Similar to the Summoning: Impure World Resurrection, in summoning a coffin from the ground. The difference is that instead of a body exiting it, long shadow hands come out and drag the opponent into the coffin. Sealing shut the coffin plumets back into the vortex from which it came.

What..

Madara was stopped as he charged at the Tsuchikage with his ultimate jutsu ready. Bursting from the ground forwards and beneath him an emerald and ivory coffin sprouted out and open, highly decorated with mythical writings and cryptic Kanji he knew what this was. The end. The Coffin snapped shut around him and barelled over in carrying his momentum, skidding across the mud. Hikado's shoulders dropped but his look remained stern as he maintained a seal attempting to banish the coffin.. Madara.. into non-existance...

+ + + +

ooc;

No not the end yet.

[Ravage Nocturne]

'Madara!?'

Eyes widened with a mixture of disbelief and fright, the young Uchiha's stance wavering as the sound of Raikiri was hushed so suddenly. Feeling a sharp pain split into his abdomen, a quick glance exchanged for a precious moment in time alerts him to the penetration of a kunai, hungrily buried into his lower stomach, where black blood began to seep around the wound. Perhaps it was the shock of it all, or maybe he really was just that focused, but in any case, he withdrew his attention from his newfound and quite dangerous accessory, back towards Madara. Lined within that horrid coffin, even Shinaki knew there was no way to save him now. It was up to Madara, and nothing else. If he failed, he would be...what? Killed, banished? Perhaps both? He did not know the intricities of the Kinjutsu, and instead was only certain that any movement he made would only end miserably on his part. Even at his weakest, Hikado was far more powerful than he, and that was negating the obvious possibility that this Alchem would impede his attempt. Growling, he curses the trickery of the Tsuchikage, and snaps back to reality, where he thumbs the handle of the kunai before ripping it from it's burial place. Ignoring the crimson spillage, he throws it to the ground before his feet, only to twitch with sudden realization that the Alchem, all of this time, had been closing in.

The Mangekyou had been far too amused with the other battle, that it had failed to reach him?

[Exodus]

B

urial

~

The setting was simple enough, a vast open field beneath a clear cold sky at dusk. The world's ceiling was a gradient of red and purple with the setting sun and the land beneath was tinted orange. Fitting for the season it was cold. The snow from the previous night's storm still lay in centimeters upon the ground, whipped into roving clouds of stinging white by an endless wind that blew the last vestiges of wintry weather away toward the south. Hills were few and far between on the otherwise flat and even terrain outside of the Arena. Foliage was too sparse for the land to be called anything but barren. It was a waste. It was perfect. It became a cage

The Caged Animal.

Standing on the crown of a rise, which one could barely call elevated was the godsend Uchiha Nevan, a slim figure of a man that stood confident in his imposing height. He wore a charcoal colored outfit complimented by that crimson hooded robe which he donned, a palette of dark blend with threads and an absolute allure of a mask. He had even pulled up the robe's deep hood over his head and pulled the mask close over his mouth and nose. It was cold out here with the feeling of being alone creeping upon him, but his strength was the solace from the chill. Still, Nevan stood stiffly, every muscle tensed on the edge of tremulous. The warrior refused to shiver.

Stray strands of an ash tinted mane swept across crimson eyes. Abyssal black pupils scanned the setting from the horizon down. Long pale fingers from a slender hand brushed the stray hairs aside and tucked them behind a soft ear. Nevan exhaled into the soft fabric of his mask and the hand was jammed down into one of the robe's several pockets on the right side. His left hand, one adorned by a majestic ring on one finger, rested casually on the ornate obsidian hilt of the long Katana that was now unsheathed from its spine-belted positioning. He seemed to be waiting for something, but for what? An encounter, he hoped. An activity that would warm his body and loosen the joints that wanted to gradually stiffen. He prepared himself, choosing seven strategies from his repertoire that he could readily use in short order and he waited.

The studious scholar preferred the understanding of each component inside of the battle, rather than to appoint himself into the heat of it all. This was his nature and he could not reject its benefits. He watched as Syaoran and Asher commenced their battle and watched as Hikado and Madara continued their own. He wouldn't interfere. This was the honor code that he and the rest of Uchiha obliged by; willing or unwilling. Forthrightly, he cut himself short and became absent from the drive of battle that once fuelled his purpose, but to deduce the state of affairs was more helpful than one had thought. The air became more humid, filled with more abhorrence with each rise of a second.

There was a silence and than the familiar stock of a thousand birds that screeched through the atmosphere; Nevan knew this technique he earned it. Madara planned to end him here and now. Nevan couldn't understand it but at this moment the sweat that swept across his face quickened as an anxious fret overcame him. The adrenaline from climactic end would soon erupt for all to see, Hikado would die before his people. Nevan restrained his movement, he wanted to move closer, he wanted to jump down for a closer view, and there was a feeling that compelled him to watch to see if justice would at last serve its final blow.

Bound to see fate course through his phenomenal vision.

"Raikiri!"

(Lightning Blade)

"Edo Fūmetsu"

(Impure World Destruction, 禁術 - 穢土封滅)

"---Madara!”

It happened too quickly, Nevan couldn't save him; there was nothing that reaction could serve to do but one arm that extended towards the battle; one arm that shot out towards Madara and attempted to reach him from afar. Nevan fell to his knees and the mask fell from his face with a dramatic cliché. The Mask bounced and then cracked into two definite pieces. Two million thoughts fumbled through his head and he couldn't catch a drift of what each one was about. The complexities and frustration brought a handle of stress onto him and such reaction brought only tears to his eyes. He couldn't fathom how simple it was, how straightforward it was to lose a father; again.

He rose with new resolve and the wind caressed his humble sorrow; the weave of brilliance kept his mind from dropping all comprehension and acting without judgment. The missing hope had returned and was there for all to see him in his fullest. Yes, it was Nevan. He exhaled the remnants of his despair and shuddered from vision in a most violent manner. He returned to the plane of existence with an expression filled with sentiment; the worst kinds of emotion, the type that the entire Arena could feel exude from his body. Hikado could see him for what he was now and could draw conclusions of his own to no end; Nevan didn't care. He stood shallow before his former teacher and spat at his despicable existence.

"Miss me?”

[cntrstrk14]

Nakama!?

The crackling of lightning and the shouting of words, all of it was echoes within the head of Syaoran. He was focused on his task, he would stall or eliminate the Uchiha in front of him to keep him from Hikado. The actual battle between the two was insignificant, if Hikado won, this Uchiha would still need to be dealt with, if Madara won, Syaoran would die swiftly, whether he saw Madara coming or not. This was his current mindset, so when the shouting of a jutsu was yelled out by Hikado Syaoran paid it not heed, the name of the technique not even penetrating his subconscious. The kunai had landed into the Uchiha, his attention was draw to the other battle, a costly mistake.

All Syaoran saw was openings.

With a burst from his chakra boots Syaoran flew forward, the Uchiha eying the other battle with what looked like fright in his eyes, wavering for a moment. The fact that this probably meant that Hikado had won, or severely wounded Madara did not scratch the surface of Syaoran’s composition. By the time the Uchiha had stirred back he was already on him, and with a swift motion Syaoran rolled over onto his right arm, holding himself up as he spun upside down, a large charge of chakra bursting out from the dial boots upon his left foot. It swung around with a booming crack, sailing right for the Uchiha’s head.

As Syaoran spun however, whether the attack had landed or not, he caught a glimpse of what was going on in the middle of the arena. He saw a flash of what looked to be a large box shaped object on the field and Hikado performing a seal. Just as he was about to finish his rotation though and come back to his feet to face his opponent, he saw a flash of speed and a man with long dark hair in a charcoal outfit. He recognized the young man immediately.

… Nevan?!

[Ravage Nocturne]

Feeling the quick blow strike against his facial features, the young man showed grace and technique in having taken the blow, rolling his shoulders back and allowing his face to slide in the direction of the kick, slowing some of the force and dampening the overall spread of damage. However, despite his best efforts, the kick was a powerful one, aided by some foreign technology that he had never seen before. The speed burst had amplified the momentum of the kick drastically, and thus similarly increased the lethality of the strike as well. He would wager that had he not known how to react to a physical blow, his neck would have been broken at this moment, and he would have been dead. His entire body rotating in the direction of the attack, he feels his waist twist as he plants his fingers against the ground, to keep him from stumbling over. It was a damn good hit, and he would give the Alchem that much. Bringing himself to a rising position, he takes several steps backwards before finally regaining his footing. His eyes vapid and flaccid, the Mangekyou spins capricious and mild within the sea of crimson, expressing no emotion. His face, as well remained a stalwart pillar of nothing. His eyes follow those of the Alchem, and for a brief second, a smile crosses his face. How nice of Nevan to have joined him now. Of course, his brother had more important things to do rather than watch his battle; after all, the equivalent to his father was being killed slowly, if he could not do anything.

Of course, there was always that opening the Alchem exhibited. Just as Shinaki had been momentarily stunned, and dropped his guard, now the same scenario rolled into his own favor. But something within the Uchiha kept him from taking advantage. It was not fear or weakness, but perhaps respect enough for this young man that his body and mind refused to take the opportunity. Allowing his opponent to remain momentarily bewildered at the arrival of Nevan, Shinaki wraps his arms around his chest, and snorts with an eerie satisfaction.

"You've lost your left arm, haven't you."

He states quietly, having noticed the emphasis on his right one, and not clear view of the left. Furthermore, he had hoped to keep what the Alchem probably thought to be ignorance as a wild card, but from the moment he saw him, he noted the the lack of Chakra flowing from that region of the body. Granted, unlike the Hyuuga, he could not view the Tenketsu, but he could very well distinguish areas of the body based on the Chakra that rises from them.

Sighing lightly, he pockets his hands and turns his back on the Alchem.

"I'll no longer fight you. You're the type of person I want in this world, and I find myself wondering if it would hinder me to have you dead. I'll allow our masters to determine our fates. Should Madara perish, I will surrender quietly and accept my fate. However, if Hikado does fall, I expect you to do the same. But for now, I find it much too bothersome an environment for us to have any real battle, inclusive of your lost appendage and our constant bewilderment based on our surroundings."

Shrugging his shoulders in apathetic manner, he spits a mouthful of blood from between his lips.

'Damn, I think he broke my jaw...'

He realizes, bringing a palm to his cheek, touching it softly. Returning to his focus, he slowly turns his entire body towards the battle between Hikado and Madara.

"After all, this is why we're both here."

[cntrstrk14]

Why? Why was he here?

Syaoran had lost all focus on his fight with the other Uchiha. Nevan had just appeared in front of the Tsuchikage, from seemingly out of no where. His mind tried to piece it together but he was turned back away as he heard the voice of the opposing Uchiha. It seemed that he had noticed his lacking of an arm, though Syaoran did not give him the satisfaction of a reply. There had been an opening to attack, why hadn’t the man taken it? He could have easily killed or at the least severely wounded Syaoran in that window. But he had not, and for that Syaoran would listen to what he had to say, facing him, his side towards Nevan even though he wanted to turn and watch the events, he would not turn his back on an enemy, twice.

As the Uchiha finished Syaoran nodded, there was no need to fight if he did not intend to interrupt Hikado. Whether they fought on their own would be meaningless, because ultimately their fate would be decided by who won the main event. Though Syaoran kept no intention of just standing down if Hikado lost, he would let these terms lay over. The village was always above Hikado, and though the Uchiha seemed to be here for his teacher, Syaoran was not. His goal was to protect his village, not his teacher. This dependence on Madara seemed to be a tack of control he possessed over the Uchiha, the man across from him seemed completely intrigued and controlled by Madara, much deeper than a simple trust and will towards a teacher. Hikado was different to Syaoran. He was closer to a comrade than he was a teacher, they each had their goals, and they helped each other to achieve them. If one of them fell, the other would go on and fight for both causes. But it did not seem that way with these two. There was a fundamental rift in the basis of the two relationships.

“There is no need to fight needlessly, if that is what you are trying to get at. But answer me this, why is Nevan here?”

The question simple, and though Syaoran wanted to yell out to his friend, he found himself only able to whisper, wanting to hear what would become of the two’s encounter. It would give him insight to both Hikado and Nevan, and possibly where their loyalties were situated.

[Ravage Nocturne]

Frowning at the inquisition, he chooses to remain silent for a moment, staring out towards the battlefield. Carnage and destruction dappled this once peaceful land, and the blood of many now painted the walls and floor of the Arena. It was a disturbing sight. All of this. The pain, suffering, and death, it was all for a cause he wasn't quite sure of. He knew next to nothing about their entire crusade, and even less about those he journeyed with. Nevan and Madara were both enigmas within his world, and acted only as a means to serve Shinaki a purpose, by directing his attention to curious details. Sighing lightly, he shrugs his shoulders and turns towards the Alchem.

"I suppose for the same reason anyone else is. To find the truth."

He states slowly and quietly, his tone flaccid and serious. It was an honest response, but intentionally elusive. He wasn't exactly sure why Nevan was here, but it had to do with Hikado. Pocketing his hands, he closes his eyes before opening them, revealing the departure of the Sharingan.

"You should be careful before you decide what action to take right now. It would be best if you exchanged stories before making accusations and ultimatums."

He suggests before turning his attention once more towards the place where Madara once stood, now replaced with that coffin...

[Ravage Nocturne]

Eyes widening momentarily, Shinaki realizes the intentions of Nevan, and moves to impede them. He was strong, much like Madara and himself, but it was purely suicidal to take on the Tsuchikage. Especially without Madara. Snorting, he performs a quick hand seal, and replaces himself with a Yukigakure shinobi next to Uchiha Nevan. Wrapping his right arm around the waist of Nevan, he hefts him backwards, and begins to break into a full run.

"Nevan, not the time or the place, brother. We need to fall back, and kill that bastard at a more convenient time. Our leader, as far as we know it, was just slain. Staying here is anything but a good move."

He states quickly as he leaps atop the walls coiling around the Arena, turning just one last time to stare at the coffin. His eyes spinning into crimson, the Mangekyou forms with ferocity and intensity, capricious and dangerous as it spins with some impossible speed. And within an instant, a spiral of black flames erupts from his eyes, tearing through the Indigo Barrier with ease and simplicity. Eating and devouring the Chakra, the cursed flames roar as they blaze through the construct, forming an opening. . Madara...Shaking his head quickly, he leaps down before releasing Nevan, and nods.

"We have to go, now."

Edited January 1, 2007 by Ravage Nocturne

[Exodus]

Nakama

- - - -

Like the letters, the meaning withered.

His stance was suicidal, his motive was blinded and Nevan became the epitome of a core vengeance that could not be settled. The flames of ruthless and implacable reverie rose with an indefinite spire in each hoarse breath. He wanted his father back. There was a rush of malevolence that filled his conscious, an evil that stained his soul and looked to devour each lasting bit. Syaoran was thought to save him, not abandon that hope, for without guidance he was not whole. What he once sacrificed for this country that he had no former affection too was put to test, and each soldier to arms had deceived him in one form or another. He didn't let a single blood drop on his behalf, but they wished to rinse him of it entirely; it was out of all proportion. All of which, was more than blind to him at this point as he fought the temptation to orchestrate his own death in front of the one he hated most, he wanted to make it clear, he had to make it clear why he was here and why he had felt so.

"You sent me to die.”

The words chilled through the cold atmosphere and all seemed to freeze as such rotten words overwhelmed the scene. Everyone would hear his wretched words sound through the air as powerful as a roar even with his whisper; everyone. His third level of Sharingan spun with passion but to say the least; a steam burned from those tear soaked eyes as if water and fire clashed in those ancient spheres of power. He was in pain. He wanted nothing less than to show him the potential that he tossed as trashed, how he perfectly coordinated the disappearance and ‘abandoning' that Nevan had supposedly turned towards. No, he was filled with lies and filled them all with the very same and if Syaoran could live with that, there was no choice left but to let him drown in those very same lies. Hikado had stolen his new home from him, his friends, his brother, his father and his sanity; all gone.

Then, as if a final light to resuscitate him from the flooding darkness; Nevan woke. Asher, of all people that knew him here, of all people that abandoned him and could stand him no more; Asher had rescued him. The man of mystery who sprung from the sands of the West and turned over a new leaf with his brethren, the man who had put everything on the line for complete strangers that even he could consider family; the mystery became a savior. In the next moment, Nevan was pulled from suicide and detained with an overwhelming power; he could not fight loose. Instead, those tears of fire cascaded to the floor before Hikado in a more memorial sentiment, one that exuded regret and pain in a commanding sense. He would never forget those eyes whilst the haunt him for his crimes.

His vision blurred and the black fires of their forefathers spread across indigo; he was no more.

[cntrstrk14]

Brother

Syaoran was unable to move for a moment as the Uchiha next to him vanished and appeared next to Nevan. His mind swirled as he wondered still why Nevan was here, what would he say to Hikado, why was he hear. Before the Uchiha could make it though the words cut through Syaoran, what he said made it all fall into place. Hikado’s uneasiness about Nevan, why he was able to leave so easily, how he had fallen into Madara’s hands without notice. Hikado had watched Nevan like a son, it made perfect sense that he had given an order to him. The guards had been on lock down, there was no way he could have left without Hikado’s help.

‘Hikado… sent Nevan… to die…?’

The words echoed through his head, it was too soon to make judgments, he needed more facts, more information. The Uchiha scooped up Nevan and this brought life into Syaoran. A new drive found him with a simple objective, handed to him from the only thing that he was certain of at that moment. His friendships. He could not let Nevan go, not let that Uchiha take his best friend, his brother, away from him again. Instincts flew and with a flash of speed Syaoran was high above the arena, his dial boots bursting forward as he rocketed up. Flinging upside down he pinpointed the movement of the Uchiha, he made a straight line to leave, and flipping out a Kunai Syaoran would not let him. Throwing it full speed towards the indigo wall of flames, that which kept his best friend within his reach he made a single seal.

The technique Nevan himself had shared with him, the symbol of their bond would be that which helped him recover his brother.

‘Hiraishin no Jutsu’

(Forbidden Art #14; Flying Thunder God Technique)

Instantly Syaoran appeared in front of the Uchiha as the black flames crashed into the wall, erupting outwards and burning a clean way through it. It was unexpected and had Syaoran not stalled backing the stands he may have been able to prevent it, but now he could do just as well. That attack would have used up a lot of chakra, and there was a low probability that he could perform the technique again. Standing in the place of the hole Syaoran raised his sword and pointed it directly at the Uchiha whom now held Nevan in his arms. Syaoran had shed his cloak now, it fell softly down towards the ground as he floated in mid air, his dial boots giving a soft hum as he levitated perfectly in their path. His voice was steady, determined and pinpointed.

“Nevan stays with me. I am NOT letting you take one of my Nakama from me again. You will have to kill me first.”

[Ravage Nocturne]

Snorting at the coincidence, he realizes far too late that the Alchem was far beyond his level of ability. He had been a fool to engage him in the first place, and perhaps his holding back had been the very thing that saved his life even now. Any front that he could put up now, even a simple bluff, would be pathetic and transparent. The majority of his Chakra reservoir had already been drained over the course of the day, and his Mangekyou Sharingan was certainly exhibiting a voracious appetite. With his constant migraines, Chakra exhaustion, and physical fatigue, he had no where to run, and nothing to do. He couldn't save them now. Grimacing, he wrinkles his nose and furrows his brows as he nods slowly. Closing his eyes for a moment, he feels a soothing wave crawl over his body as the Mangekyou dissolves into the triplicate tomoe. Slowly turning, it too begins to dissolve as the darkness of his eyes returns, the scarlet fading. Having dispelled his Doujutsu as an offering of surrender, he releases his tight grip on Nevan, and scowls.

It was time to let it all go.

"Understood. I ask that you consider Nevan's position before executing judgment or punishment upon him. Keep in mind that both Madara and myself were his influences, and that he should be dealt with in a far less severe manner. I accept whatever you have in store for me, though I ask to remain where Nevan is."

He says slowly, poisonous spite drooling off his every word. He hated this, but knew that for the sake of his brother, he had to give it all up. Spiral patterns of hate, guilt, and courage spun through his mind, and he kept turning over and over the possibilities before him. Not even one seemed effective, and this realization crashed through his mind, and broke him down. He, the brother of Uchiha Nevan, was going to fail him. Madara had perished, and so would he. But Nevan...he would...no, he HAD to live on. He was the King of the Uchiha Clan. There was no way that he would die alongside himself and Madara. No, he would fight if it came to that much. Sadly, he would surely do little more than a little damage. Even at full strength, he doubted that he could eliminate this Alchem. At least now, his patient cooperation could help Nevan make it through this alive. As for himself....well....

He had lived a full life, right?

[Exodus]

Crumble. ~

Sin oozed from his soul. The blackened tears of the Sharingan kissed his skin and spread taint as it pierced the sands beneath. There was fire in his eyes and both of those fools could feel it. His entire body hummed and flourished with malice and ill will and as Asher released his brace, the world recognized his pain. But at this time of spite, another nuisance arose to the occasion. Asher, his Uchiha brother and savior forevermore had turned coat and spoke words of surrender. The reaction was cold and inexcusable as Nevan rose his hand and brushed his brother off pathetically. He cut his eye from the pitiable fool and challenged the one before them with a bloodthirsty crave.

"Punishment? Come."

The Uchiha King strengthened his resolve and sought for nothing more than to carve the heart of another out and watch as its beat slowed to a dead pulse as his own had did just moments before. Judgment? It was lost to him; he could draw no conclusion as to why the two had fought for him, but felt threatened nonetheless, felt as if he was cornered and there was nothing to do but to retaliate. He refused to surrender; the word held no meaning to him and therefore was not an option. The Pride of the Uchiha. The moment of truth presented itself and the odds became even; a true testament his friendships were at stake and he had no acknowledgment of such. This Country taught him a war that he was blinded to for all of his life, and now, at last that war had seeded itself into him and sardonically blinded him from the life he use to live. He stood, between two friends and held his honor as a sword, what would become of this? Had he made it this far to fail? Or was this a fate weaved from outside the bounds of his control? Syaoran knew, and he was true rationale behind Nevan's perseverance; could the Uchiha ever be turned from the darkness?

Light the torch and find out.

• • • •

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran was intrigued, but not surprised at the Uchiha's actions. He had figured that such an attack that could simply blow a hole in such an advanced encasing jutsu would have drained him. On top of that, Syaoran knew from his past experienced with the clan that the Sharingan, especially at higher levels, was exhausting to use. Sheathing his katana as the man's eye's sank back to their dark color Syaoran still stood, his boots keeping him aloft in front of the two. The dim hum of their chakra the only noise as the enemy let go of Nevan, allowing him to stand on his own too feet. Reaching up to his ear he issued an order into the small receiver.

"ANBU Squad 3, I need backup in sector J-14 of the arena.”

It was at this point that Syaoran noticed Nevan. His look was sinister and for the first time Syaoran felt like he did not know the man that stood in front of him. Syaoran did not know what to think yet, and he was not about to wait around. As Nevan spoke, his voice was not his own, he seemed lost within himself.

"Punishment? What? I will not fight you Nevan. What were you talking about earlier? Did Hikado really send you to die?”

Syaoran said the words gently. He was concerned for his friend, and he feared that he may have already lost him. Within seconds three members of ANBU appeared around the older Uchiha. Each wore the traditional mask of their occupation, the closest to Syaoran, placed between him and the Uchiha wore a large bear mask, colored with a vivid red scar the swung across its left eye. His robes were a very dark grey, along with the others, no special features to them. The other two wore similar masks, both of theirs birds, each one with a swirling red design, one over the right eye and the other over the left eye. They stood on either side of the Uchiha, their silence the most noticeable thing about their presence. All three kept their gaze on the older Uchiha. It appeared as if their fourth of their squad had been put out of action earlier in the fighting, or he would be there also. But they would be enough to contain the exhausted man. Syaoran paid them no heed though, he was focused on his lost comrade.

"Nevan... What happened between you and Hikado?”

[Ravage Nocturne]

Complacent with the decision he had made, Shinaki ignores the accusative looks that Nevan passes, and dismisses any further signs of disappointment. There was time for warfare, and there were times for negotiations. Perhaps still shocked to have witnessed the disappearance of his master, Nevan seemed much more fragile in a moment of intensity, and therefore may have been lacking the ability to grasp the seriousness of this situation. A touch of immaturity, Nevan exhibited qualities similar to a tantrum as he moves in opposition to the Alchem, and Shinaki sneers towards his brother. How foolish, him.

At this rate, the one fitting heir to the throne was himself.

Nevan was far too passionate and headstrong to calculate the risks around delicate events, and most certainly couldn't fill a throne until he learned more self control. Although the idea had been out of courtesy, he had offered his brother greater respect than he had been given, and for a moment in time, he began to regret it.

Was it so inexcusable for him to have taken precautions to protect his life instead of his own?

Shifting his gaze back to the ANBU surrounding him, he pockets his tongue into the side of his cheek, and closes his eyes. They were clearly beneath both his level and the Alchem's. Nevan was successfully distracting the man even without intending, but something halted any desire of his to rebel. Granted, he was beginning to feel refreshed already, but there lingered a sense of cataclysmic danger. For this reason, he stood obedient and silent, indigo eyes expressing a serenity unlike any before. As the tranquility of his nature washes over him, he begins to regain his strategic composure, plotting, planning, and preparing to execute. The triplicate tomoe, the Toripuruha Sharingan. Yes, that would be enough to dispatch these ANBU, but at what cost? Nevan seemed incapable of holding back the Alchem for any time, if at all, and that could pose a problem indeed. Clenching his jaw, Shinaki breathes out in slow exhalation and nods to himself.

No, there was no getting out of this one.

Even an exhausted Uchiha was a dangerous thing, and he was fully aware of his abilities. Weakened in a state such as this, escape remained a bleak, yet possible circumstance, had he the proper mind set. Slowly bringing a hand to his forehead, he grits his teeth as he feels a migraine pound, pound, pounding behind his eyes. The damned Mangekyou...just what good was it anyway? Slaughtering him and only himself, he remained constantly aware of it's appetite, and was fatigued thusly. Placing his arms at his sides, he takes on a neutral positioning, hoping to not distract his new guards or the Alchem. As it were, he had no intention of rising against the lot of them; what could would it do, besides get himself and possibly Nevan killed? Clucking his tongue at the irony of it all, he breathes inwards and concentrates. For now, he would wait, and believe in the opportunity that would reveal itself in the future. A meticulous tactician and strategist, he greatly understood the process of timing an action, and for this reason would allow the courses to play out.

For his was a spirit that could not be so easily caged.

[Exodus]

T

he

S

urvival.

Nevan hesitated between resentment and passivity; an animal instinct overwhelmed him but the internal clash was more than obvious. The impulsive tears of sharp obsidian cut through the bloodied pool of red and spun at a slower pace as words of calm soothed their vicious nature. He stood up from his ravenous state and posed a more confident stance; one with the air of a fearless warrior. He wasn't fit for a role of a leader, he wasn't fit for a role of a friend, but he was fit to live for himself and none other at this weave of misfortune. These men wished him death, and he didn't know how to trust them any longer, he couldn't just hand himself over. It was amusing cause at that same moment; Shinaki was surrounded to the tooth by the fearsome ANBU of Iwagakure. Their establishment was quick while he had been gone, and everyone moved onward perfectly fine.

"Tch, what of it?”

He wasn't one to put in plain words his woe, especially when he knew that this was more than obvious. Nevan couldn't have let without immediate instructions from the Tsuchikage himself, the command could come from none else. But he, he had insisted thoroughly that Nevan hunt and search for answers in the dangerous West for such happenings against the Country of Iwagakure; placing his life on the line once more. Nevan spat on the floor towards the three ANBU and snorted once more before emphasizing his stress towards Syaoran.

"It was a death trip. As simple as he had took me in, he had kicked me to the curb. No hesitation, no help and no explanation. He accused me of working with another, the one you know as Madara, but such was far from the truth until he sent me blindly into his path and there, Madara had took me as… as a Son.”

He had no intentions of exacting the path before these treacherous ears. This was enough for a supposed friend, either he believed it, or he could jump off of the next cliff to his death; by now it was irrelevant to the lone soldier. Before long though, Nevan would have to escape from this cage that constantly surrounded him, it was itching on his impatience and fuelled the fire. His devious nature sprouted and Nevan dared the impossible, he approached Syaoran with a slow, unafraid pace and held his arms out as if mocking him with the question; would you arrest a friend or not? The triplicate Sharingan was still more than alive and he had a knack of maintaining the tool much more efficiently then those recorded in the history to past, so he was prepared for the worst.

"So Syaoran. Where do you stand?”

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran absorbed each and every word as Nevan spoke. It was obvious that he was fueled by rage, but it was not directed at Hikado. There was something else that bothered Nevan, much deeper than these surface troubles. From what Syaoran could piece together, Hikado had sent Nevan on a recon mission to find out information in the west, and he had stumbled upon this Madara. How this had been Hikado’s master plot to kill Nevan was not clear to Syaoran, but one thing stuck out to Syaoran that made the situation stink.

Why did Hikado tell Syaoran Nevan had left on his own?

Syaoran calmly floated over to the ledge that Nevan now stood near, atop the arena. Landing softly and immediately taking the few steps up to him he stood face to face with his best friend, his eyes scanning his, his lips sealed shut and his face stern.

-Crack-

Syaoran had brought his curled fist down across the jaw of Nevan with such speed and force that the sound that issued forth could be heard back down on the ground.

“So you help this man, this FATHER of yours, come into my village, kill my family, set loose this MURDEROUS HORDE of mercenaries and you THINK that it is all ok because of some spite that you have for Hikado?!? THEY MURDERED CITIZENS! KILLED OUR SHINOBI! DESTROYED OUR BUILDINGS! I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU COME IN HERE… AND… and…”

Syaoran was choking up now, his eyes watering as he spoke, but the same determined, stern look stayed on his face, and his eyes never wavered. He was hurting at his betrayal, but it was not swaying his resolve. He did not know, or disbelieve what Nevan had said, but Nevan’s actions, the results of these actions, had not been the correct way to go about it. He had helped to drag innocent people into the fray. It was a sin of omission, he had stood by allowed this man to do what he wanted. When he began speaking again it was much more calm, the anger that had risen in his voice had seeped into disappointment.

“This is my family Nevan… I thought you shared this with me… I can’t believe you would throw all of this away so quickly. I can’t imagine what Kia will say, she was so worried about you…”

Syaoran finished, standing only a foot away from Nevan, where he had just struck him. He waited for a response, he pleaded against hope for an excuse to fly out, for him to claim he had been forced to, mind controlled, something. It was hope against hope, but that was all that was left for him to believe in.

“I stand where I always stood. With Iwagakure no Sato. With my friends.”