Masquerade--

[Exodus]

Test.

______

"The end justifies the means?'"

This was how the Alchem thought; and for a moment Nevan considered it. There would be no exposé as to how Nevan would answer such a question, but for now he understood that his comrade had based his repertoire of decisions, rebuttal and even denial upon this point of view. He didn't show any such reactions towards his words though and simply nodded to acknowledge that he had spoken and that he indeed took notes. With a nimble flourish, the Uchiha offered his right hand to the callous ground beneath him, letting the handcuffs clink softly as he did so. Tilting his head back and over his shoulder just a little, the demon flashed a devilish smile to nothing in particular. Though partially veiled by the raven black hair, the right eye just stared to and past this world; seeing nothing and more. There was a shimmer of something in that lifeless, unblinking eye and it was rather ominous. However silent it became, the mood seemed so much more vain as these shackles bore into skin and threatened to bruise an incredible skin.

"Are these still necessary?"

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran was in a difficult position, he had hoped to be able to believe in his friends to the end, but at this point he had to turn and look at all of them. Nevan and Hikado, both people he had trusted down to the very core of himself, now pitted themselves against each other, or more so, Nevan had pitted himself against Hikado. It was difficult to tell if Hikado had even excepted this as someone to fight back against, or if he would just crush Madara and be done with the matter. Even though he could argue with Nevan and give reasons for Hikado's actions, it was guesswork, and he was really only giving an alternative argument. He had no idea what Hikado's situation was, all he knew that either Madara was an enemy, or Hikado and Madara were enemies. There was no use to being an ally with a man who would level his way through a city for the vengeance on one man, that type of act was only a path to corruption. Vengeance only killed a person with each step they took towards their goal. Looking at Nevan as he asked his question, is was obvious that he was just agreeing, whether he actually cared for what Syaoran said was very unlikely. They were just two different people, and despite them both going through losses, they had come up very different.

"No, I expect you will not try anything dumb. It would only make it harder to get you out of here…”

Syaoran said a bit mellow, his thought had left him a bit void, he was actually did not look forward to the next task he would have to do. Unraveling these bonds between his friends to find out what was really underneath, what he had wrapped up in the first place, and if his eyes had deceived him. Nevan was a true friend, and Hikado was a true leader. Was there even a right answer to this problem? Was there a good guy, a bad guy? Was there any real reason to any of this? Why did ninja even exist, they just were tools of fighting.

Pawns of countries, sent to seek the power of those who would like to call themselves Gods.

Syaoran would break that. If he had to fight for the rest of his life, he would break that use. Ninja were not only tools of war, they were protectors and shields. They were meant to protect that which is precious, not to obtain that which people sought. They would live for themselves, and server who they wanted and for their own reasons. No one would have views or goals pushed upon them.

Standing up Syaoran walked the few steps to Nevan and kneeled down. Bringing his finger up, and focusing he brought up a large amount of chakra, which about 10% came through in the situation. With a touch of his finger he was able to turn the steel handcuffs into sand, which feel to a pile on the ground. Whether this would be a move that would come back to bite him in the future was yet to be seen, but Syaoran did not think so at the time.

[Exodus]

"

T

hank you”

The reprieve of suppression on his bruised wrists was bliss. He inhaled, and then exhaled with wild craze that shone from side to side beneath the blades of the Sharingan. He stared at the indifferent floor as the moment of uncomfortable tension laid its weight on the two. Options sprawled themselves out in the open and Nevan became a more serious threat. He was underestimated and time after time he was treated as one whom did not appraise the bloodline of the Uchiha with to entail fear in others. It was pathetic. However, he had nothing to prove and he understood that his time would come and people would respect him for who he was and the things he was capable of doing. Nevan relaxed and placed his arms behind his head as he leaned against the wall. It was made apparent that he was going nowhere fast and his punishment still remained a thriller; the conclusion of this bout would come soon.

Societal commitment condemned itself when it came to Nevan, and he was not about to break the serene silence with an aberration of code. Instead, his lids slipped over those immaculate teardrops and he wondered his next plan of action. If he could sidestep the underhanded Tsuchikage and make leave for this place, where would he end up next? The NCIA were in the most unanticipated places around the continent and his capture would mean a suicide that he did not want to force. There was no honor with those manipulative basterds; and the true war should be focused on those fools rather than the slaughtering and imprisonment of the ones who could make a difference. This was too far out of hand and would become a major flaw in their plans to crush the Kumo Empire.

"..Where is Kia?"

The words were cold and impassionate; it seemed like an unforced demand, but this just meant he was serious. His vision was still blanketed with cover, and he did not unravel them. Rather, he focused on the sounds that echoed throughout the halls and the lack of enthusiasm in the breath of the Alchem. His palms turned and compressed, not a violent expression of movement, but it exposed a concern that Nevan did not express before; this was a rare sentiment.

[cntrstrk14]

The question stung Syaoran like a kunai. His heart sank as he thought about it, how could he tell Nevan that he had left her? Even if he thought it was for his own good, he was ashamed to admit such a terrible choice. Syaoran watched his movements, this was really bothering him, did he really care for her so much? This furthered Syaoran's feelings as he thought about it, though he was not sure why. The thought of Nevan worrying about Kia though made his chest throb with fiery hate. None of this showed externally though as Syaoran kept his composure. No, he would be honest with Nevan, there was no point in lying to him.

"I left her up in the north after a battle. We had lost and she had found a way to infiltrate them. So I feigned attacked her so that she could try and find you from the inside out. That was a dumb move though, and I admit it. She is probably captured now…”

Syaoran hung his head a bit, still looking at Nevan but did not want to make eye contact. He had not only now fell short for Kia, but also for Nevan. He had failed to protect the girls while he was gone, and for some reason this hit Syaoran hard. But he needed to be strong for now, Nevan was still relying on him to clear his name, and he needed to get out and find Kia again also.

[Exodus]

M

esmerize

His mind drew blanks and revealed no immediate reaction. All motion ceased except for those twisted tomoe that spun with an iniquitous impulse. Nevan stared through the Alchem, with a stalk that pierced right through him. His lids widened and those wretched wheels became more apparent; more enlightening. He drew no breath, and held his entire form taut. Nevan watched as how his heart had caved in on itself and the burden of error had struck Syaoran with a brutal impact; he couldn't even look Nevan in the eyes. The shock of those words calmed before Nevan could speak, he restrained himself by all means and then thought. Unlike the stubborn belief of his people, this Uchiha took the second to think before he acted in response. This bore fruit to a revelation; a rare trait that Nevan hid from all…

"Keep your head up, Alchem. We'll get her back…”

He let those words trail as he shifted himself toward his comrade and extended a hand in an upright pose of faith and reassurance; a handshake that would quell all fear. There was a new definition of confidence inside the visage of the illustrious Nevan as he spoke without fear, without distress. He was a man now, and he had matured much more than he could even take the time to notice, but it was there and it shined vivid bright within these dark corridors.

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran lifted his head as Nevan spoke, and was able too look at him for the first time. Extending his hand out he took Nevan's in his and they shook. For some reason that had given Syaoran hope for the future, and what he would have to do soon. He felt his old strength coming back into him and for the first time since he had been down in this jail he felt that things would be all right in the end. The way things had been set up, there had been almost no hope of going back to that time where the four of them shared an apartment, or all lived in his tree house. Letting his hand finally fall from Nevan's he let out a smile.

‘Now, we just have to wait to see who won the fight.'

Syaoran thought to himself. He was worried sick about Kia, and he would be out looking for her the moment he got a chance. If only he had preformed a Jutsu Formula on her somewhere, or on a piece of equipment she had. Then he could find her instantly. He had really messed up, and he still felt terrible. Kia would probably never forgive him, and there was no reason to. He had failed her completely. Lifting his hand up Syaoran touched his half-grown arm absent mindedly.

"Thanks Nevan."

[Nappers]

+ + + +

Trapped, boxed in his ivory coffin stirred Madara, concierge of a private war. The puppeteer of destruction to a land. The last hope of a breed on brink of extinction.

Wrestling within his private prison the coffin barely rocked from side to side. It was hopeless.

"This will be your end my friend," the Tsuchikage whispered as he forced himself into progressing a further set of seals. A black pool tore open in the ground beneath the coffin. A bottomless vortex into an existence out of existence, a dimension worse than any hell, eternity in non-being. Sweat dripped from Hikdao's forehead, his eyes fixated on the ivory chest as it painstakingly began its decent.

"This is it.." Hikado focused his energies into the technique's completion.

"Nevan..?" his eyes widened as he stared into the boy's pupils. His words whispered across to him and Hikado failed to interpret even a syllable.

"Nevan?" he repeated, his vision becoming distorted. His head throbbed; shooting pains lanced up his spine and darted about his head. Breaking the seal he clutched at his head writhing in pain. His eyes searched about the arena, to the coffin, to Nevan. He focused his attention on the boy in front him. His body faded till only an outline remained, a gust of wind blowing away the ash that was the outline.

Feverously he swung his head around, scanning the amphitheatre. It was empty. He was alone with the ivory coffin stood in the centre of the arena proving his only company. A crack of thunder preceded the downpour of rain that soon flooded the arena. Desperately he tried to run forwards towards the coffin. He felt as though he was dragging the weight of the world within him as he waded through the water approaching the enchanted box.

"Fool,” Madara's voice boomed around the arena above the sounds of the rain as each raindrop bombarded the pool of water.

"Impossible,” he whispered, he swung his body around to look behind him – nothing was there. Looking forwards he focused on the coffin again. Wading forwards again he felt ‘something' brush against his leg and abdomen in the water. Something was tugging at his trousers at his knee, and the back of his shirt. Probing the waters with flailing hands he clutched something in his hand.

"You killed them. You killed all of the,” gradually the waters receded draining into the abyss beneath the coffin. The water dulled to a dirty color a mix of brown and red. Pools of filth remained about the place as a pungent smell of hate caused Hikado to cough and choke, his lungs tightened as did his grip on what he held. Looking down as the waters continued to recede he could see it, a child's hand.

Standing up around him about the arena was a populous of children; dark hair with equally black eyes, their expressionless eyes stared at the man who stood among them with a hint of expectation.

"You murdered them.”

A red current ran into their eyes. Raising their hands they charged at the Tsuchikage, opening their mouths they screamed a deafening note. Clasping his ears and closing his eyes be braced himself for the bombardment. Then the screaming stopped. Opening his eyes nervously he saw the arena, empty again with the coffin in the middle of the stage with its panel door opened.

"I don't understand” the Tsuchikage whispered as he fell to his knees. His body felt exhausted, constrained and lifeless. With barely enough energy in him he raised his head, "I don't understand” he said defeated. His palms slammed onto the ground holding up his body. The earth beneath him trembled and the arena shook, columns broke loose shattering down unto the ground around him. The ground beneath him split open, without any energy left, Hikado accepted an estranged defeat and plummeted into the nothingness. Shutting his eyes as vertigo took over, the winds rushing past his face as he awaited the end. But opening them he found himself, looking at himself, staring at himself as he stood on all fours struggling for strength, the ground splitting open beneath ‘him' and watching ‘himself' take the plummet. A column of fire erupted from the chasm. Again, interchanging roles the Tsuchikage found himself on a loop of realities without a grasp of real from the unreal until a snapping of fingers could be heard.

The click resounded in the arena, opening his eyes again he was among the massacre that was the battlefield of the arena. Bodies of men and women who had fought valiantly were gathered around him, those closest to him – his senior officers who with him had formed the new Iwa council for the new age and order. The promising gennin and chuunin who had acted as vanguard to the village under siege.

In the distance the coffin lay on its back, panels shattered on the sides, the door destroyed. Opposite the Tsuchikage, as he sat there on his knee's, was Madara standing proudly with grin.

"F.. Forgive me.”

"Your judgment has come,” Madara slammed his palm onto the ground forcibly.

"Kuchiyose: Rashōmon-Naraku!”

(Summoning: Rashomon-Hell)

Leaping backwards Madara found himself ontop a pillar that was dotted around the centre stage. The Rashamon gate came into being on the ground, encompassing the arena stage. Telling sounds echoed as the locks opened. Hikado's eyes scattered around him at the gathered people, the injured and the lost, it was the end. The gate swung open and they all descended into the stone walled pit. The arena itself trembled as a ominous grumbled bellowed up from the opening. A blast of black fire surged up from the gate. The doors slammed shut.

Madara leapt down into the arena grounds. He was the only soul stood there, the others had been swallowed up by the gate. The stalls were filled with a mixture of the grand Yuki army and defeated guardians of Iwa. In an instant it was as though their present and future had been taken away. But they had their liberty.

"We must leave,” he ordered his troops. Groggily he marched beneath the archway entrance to the amphitheatre leaving behind him an eerily empty battleground.

+ + + +

EXP;

cntrstrk14 - 22oo EXP

Ravage Nocturne - 22oo EXP

Exodus - 22oo EXP

DragonOfAnger - 4oo EXP

[cntrstrk14]

Nevan's

~Test

The soft padding of feet across the damp stone floor echoed throughout the dungeon. Syaoran's heart rose, it was someone bringing him news no doubt, maybe they had found Kia or Hikari! The thought made Syaoran turn from Nevan for a second towards the door. He knew that just as good a chance as there could be good news, there could be bad news all the same. He could not make his muscles move given the situation, but he did not have to wait long to be satisfied. The guards slid the heavy metal door open and the man stood there, a solemn look on his face, he was a young boy, only fifteen at most. He looked on the verge of tears. Syaoran heart sank, he knew the news to come and he did not want to hear it. The boy lifted his head and choked out, the tears not keeping themselves as he proudly said the message.

"Alchem Syaoran. I have been sent.. I have been sent to inform you that… that… that… The Tsuchikage has been killed in combat….” The boy said, still standing there.

Syaoran's face dropped, the shocked expression stood on his face for a moment before he thinned his mouth. The images that flashed through his head of how the final moments must have went pained him. He had not been there to help, but he knew that if he had it would have been to now avail. Not able to look at Nevan at this point. His heart had hit the floor, it seemed all hope he had for the village had died with that man. Syaoran started to scratch for any hope, brushing his thumb over the ring he wore, the red emblem of the council of Iwagakure no Sato proudly stamped on it.

"What of the council members?”

The boy looked down and shook his head. He seemed to not be able to speak for a moment, and then surprised everyone when he managed to choke out a small sentence.

"All of them were killed in the battle, and their bodies are unrecoverable.”

Syaoran's hope had sunk even further. The council had been made of the most wise and talented ninja Iwagakure no Sato could scrap together. They were in utter ruin again, they would be easily wiped out if Kumogakure no Sato came in now. Their top seven ninja wiped out all in one sweep, the other casualties were yet to come in, though the number of talented ninja killed would be high, Syaoran was sure. His next question would pain him to ask, but he needed to know. He knew if he did not ask it, Nevan would, so he would spare him the breathe.

"… and… what of Madara?”

The boy looked Syaoran in the eyes, his own read from crying, and his voice was breaking up again as he felt the verge coming near.

"He is leading his troops out of the village. The order to disengage has been given. He seems finished here.”

Syaoran's hand curled into a fist as he said this. The fact that this man had walked into Iwagakure no Sato, destroyed a good portion of the village, killing their leader and then just walks out? The worst part was Syaoran's inability to do anything to stop the man. There was nothing the entire village could do to stop this man from leaving. Syaoran's face was stone, his knuckles had turned white and he turned to Nevan. His tone was straightforward, and his question sincere. The time to see where Nevan's real loyalties were now.

"Well what will you do now?”

[Exodus]

P

andora's

B

ox ~

The unforeseeable had happened but somehow this was to be expected. There was a mournful silence that suppressed the force of the dilemma and Nevan said not a word. He couldn't envision how it could have all happened; his last recollection of the battlefield was from tip to toe in the favor of the Tsuchikage, had he underestimated the weight of this war? It didn't matter now, the answer could never be found to hope for such would be foolish. However, there was another surprise of a question that hit the prisoner full steam, a question that would decide his fate thereafter. A wanted expression was scarce from the Uchiha, but he exposed not even a blink towards what he was thinking. Beyond question, he himself was at a loss of what he was to do next, or even what could he do? A heavy, burdensome suspire escaped his lips and his head fall back in ambitious consideration.

"I must find Madara."

At first, his tone sounded suspicious due to the shadow of death that haunted them from such a name. Nevan stood from his downed position and stretched the redundant idleness from his form. There was no other choice than this and the Alchem would come to understand this. However the fact that he was still imprisoned bothered him and prevented his immediate leave. The child still stood without command and continued to sweep the cheerless tears from his face; it was a disheartening sight but his own personal morals as a Shinobi could not be disrupted in such a time of need.

"The people need you, Sy. However, I must know what Madara plans to do now..”

Although Iwagakure crumbled in on itself once more, it still stood in the middle of a most treacherous threat. Their forces were eliminated and Madara walked free without the knowledge of where his students stood. He would use force to find them if he in fact cared, that was the assumption. The final choice remained in the hands of the Alchem no less and he had the solution to their freedom, until Madara came. Nevan wondered if Shinaki had heard the news and what his reaction to this whole ordeal was; would he be freed? Nevan now stood face to face with his comrade and the question still wandered their minds. What would he do? It was possible that Madara would be finished with Nevan when all was said and done, or moreover he might capture him to further more ambitious plans, his intent was unclear and to some extent, still justified. He had to know.

"You know... You're right, I had accomplished the mission Hikado had given me, regardless if his intent was ever true or not; the answer is now forever lost. The real question now is, will you trust me once more?"

[cntrstrk14]

Cutting the Anchor

Nevan was speaking from what Syaoran knew he would. There was a childish part in the back of his head that wanted Nevan to stay, help rebuild, be there for them, but he knew this was just childish wishes. Letting a very small grin, almost a smirk, fate had dealt them apart once again, byt the cast of the die or the artistic stroke of the brush, it had been done so. They would be separated again despite the wishes of either. Shaking his head a bit, not at Nevan, but a the circumstances that kept filling his life. What Nevan said was true, the village would need him. With a small laugh he answered.

"Yes."

Syaoran said, turning and walking towards the door. It was not like even if he had not trusted him he could have a choice in the matter. He would have to allow them to go or face more serious consequences. The guards turned to Syaoran, looks of uttermost puzzlement and pain on their faces. They two had been struck hard with the news. Looking at Syaoran as he answered Nevan, their questioning look become more and more beqildered. Syaoran turned to the door next of the cell next to Nevans and faced the guard next to it.

"Open the cell.”

"But, we cannot d-”

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!”

Syaoran shouted, anger in his eyes as he turned at the one guard. It quickly flowed down and trickled away as compassion and care fell into his eyes.

"What do you think is going to happen when Madara notices that his subjects are captured? He will kill his way to them. Let them go, we have already lost enough lives...”

The guard lowered his head, and turned and unlocked the door to the cage of Shinaki. Knowing full well the Uchiha could overhear what the boy had said, he spoke not a word to the Uchiha as he stood at the doorway, the bounds of the chakra suppressant much less powerful when not completely surrounded by the stone. Staring at the man for a moment , Syaoran focused up a large amount of force chakra raised his right arm and extended it towards the Uchiha. With a snap of his fingers he could easily kill the bound Uchiha, dissolve the particle in him, tear him to pieces as he was in the cornered room, his chakra levels unable to rise above normal, his hands bound. It would be so easy to just annihilate the man here, but that would not serve justice, nor was he the fault for the way Iwagakure no Sato was now. Syaoran would spare him, maybe it would serve him well in the future. With a snap of his fingers the bindings around the man's wrists burst into sand and fell to the ground.

"You're free to go.”

With that he turned back and waited for the two to exit their cells. Of course they would be escorted up and out of the building, where they would be set free. The other two guards stood at the far end, awaiting their movement while the two near guards waited with Syaoran for them to exit.

It is better to lose the anchor than the whole ship.

[Exodus]

I

ntentions ~

The daemonic champion set free and tasted freedom once more. New elements of War had seeded itself inside the bloodied soil of Iwagakure; the future was unpredictable. Nevan was escorted to the head of the prison where he would receive the items taken from him, it was a quick exchange and then he was off. He left behind the realm of darkness and entered one filled with a most distraught shine of sun; the clouds amidst the heavenly torch were swallowed with an unpleasant hue of grey that refracted the light in a most disturbing way. There was critical obliteration to the village as a whole where bodies remained lifeless and its structures remained charred and collapsed. These distractions hindered his unsentimental judgment with attempts to fill him with remorse and blame, but he would not accept it. He pushed forward and moved with haste towards the Arena; he could not stand here any longer.

The lack of Chakra suppressant bettered his persistence; there wasn't that immovable lumber that stood poised on his shoulders no longer, there were no shackles to confine his arsenal of opportune. He was set free. His movements were even more so flawless now, and his speed seemed unparalleled. He swept passed the devastation and keened on to the hints of where Madara would move next. Dawdlers from the main force still lingered about but seemed to hold no interest in reform, therefore Nevan overlooked them. He paced onward and the Arena snuck into plain view. His interest peeked and nosiness took the best of him; with an idealistic leap, Nevan launched himself stories into the air and watched with shocked eyes while he descended in the vein of a feather. There was nothing.

"Impossible!”

The showground was as clean as a whistle. There were no weapons, no bodies, and no evidence to the believed battle. This could not be it. Nevan panicked and fed off of natural instinct as to where his next destination would lead him. He hoped he could find the answer, but his mind paid no care to such importance, the impractical roused him more than anything else and his wild nature took him on a blind adventure. The triplicate tear wheels hunted with swiftness, it stopped twitching from left to right and somehow it understood which path to take. In the distance, he could see him, he could pinpoint just where he stood amongst the remaining battalion and so he pushed harder until he was upon them. At first, his approach was left unaided with no words of theatrical respect; he instead found it unwise to trouble the orchestra of a thousand deaths but, but as the temptation led him on; he called out to the one man responsible for this.

"Madara!”

[Nappers]

+ + + +

His sandals scraped against the floor as he came to a standstill. Raising his head he looked about his shoulder. The cry of his name all to familiar to him.

"What is it?" his voice carried on the wind, audible only to its appropriate recipiant.

"Wait," he ordered his guards around him. Turning around he slowly marched backward, towards the arena vicinity, towards the one who demanded him.

"Nevan?" he asked finding himself in the presence of the boy.

+ + + +

[Exodus]

Nevan pushed onward with an absence of fear. He concluded the death of Hikado with the existence of Madara; it was good to see him alive, his protector, his father, but a murderer no less. Nevan came to a halt as he approached what he had once thought to be taken from this world, but his conclusion had been drawn too far as was the underestimation that the Tsuchikage had pinched before his death. Nevan took a moment to capture his breath and settle his nerves before the arsenal of men he had at his disposal, however, these men were nothing compared to the power that Madara wielded, it was impossible that he was still living and in such good health.

"So, this is it? Is this the end of the plan?”

Nevan didn't consider the duties that must still remain for himself, but he was a tool no longer and would stand for what he believed in, as long as what he believed in had a permissible cause. Madara had intentions that were unclear; these secrecies were far too much to behold or decipher. He could not bring himself to the realization that perhaps, he was wrong about Hikado, considering the words of the Alchem.

[Nappers]

+ + + +

"What we came here to do has been done. A criminal has been removed from his position of power. The plague has been vanquished. Iwa can now start a new, with promise of a real future and means to start again. I'll report back to the Princess and from there.. we'll see." Stepping forwards he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"You've grown well during this time. Stronger. The Uchiha will need you. Konoha will need you both. Once I leave, I don't know if we'll meet like this again, but I'll be keeping up with your progress as I've always done," looking past the boy he saw his guards waiting on him at the end of the street.

"Is there anything you want?"

+ + + +

[Ravage Nocturne]

With the dissolving of his shackles, and the news that he had overheard, it might have surprised onlookers to receive both no exhibition of emotion nor of relief. Dusting off his shoulders, he closes his eyes and walks towards the door. Having approached the exit, his eyes open to reveal the iridescent, luminous twilight. Raising an eyebrow harboring both skepticism and some other foreign emotion, the young man brushes past Syaoran without a word, and begins to follow his brother, Nevan.

Madara; he would surely have some explaining to do.

He had little expectations, now. He knew full well how Madara felt about him, and vice versa. Nevan was the secret treasure, and he was a pawn. Brushing a handful of bangs from his eyes, he begins his ascension towards the surface, relishing the progression of clean air that came with doing so. Stepping quickly and lightly, he closes the distance between himself and his objective, and moves towards the pair of Uchiha. Halting himself an admirable distance from Madara, he shakes his head. Looking towards Madara with the perfection of the Mangekyou Sharingan, the grimace pasted across his face expresses the entirety of what he was feeling. There was some innate desire to hear words of congratulation or of love come from the mouth of the man, but he was not his father.

Snorting towards Madara, he folds his arms as though about to address the man, yet remains silent. There were so many things that he wanted to say. Abolishing such matters, he sneers, forces the Sharingan back into dormancy. No, there would be a time for such things; now he would figure out what came next.

"Good for you."

He states, his voice quiet as he tries to hide the poisonous spite attached to it. Never truly glancing at the man, his eyes angle towards the ground, Nevan, or behind him. It wasn't shame, but it was something close to it. He was not directly referencing his ability to overcome Hikado, but wasn't in the mood to explain the subtlety of his speech. Turning his back, he drops his hands into his pockets, and sighs lightly.

"Really though, it must feel wonderful."

The Uchiha allows these words to pass from his lips, but directs them towards no one in particular. Perhaps meant more for Nevan than for Madara, he cringes as he feels a deep pain in his chest, and brings a hand to it. Yes, there was some feeling of abandonment and distress, wasn't there? Had Madara known where they had been....

Only Nevan would be free.

[Exodus]

"Nothing more; I bid you farewell.”

Nevan nodded towards his former teacher instead of the intended bow. The others in this place would not understand the connection, but whether or not this was his mission, there would be speculations. Shinaki stood in close distance and he too expressed his own behavioral response, but to decode it would prove bothersome. His Uchiha brethren had swept through the emotions too fast and with little to no trouble for Nevan to even keep up. He would seek happiness, he would seek mercy and compassion and now he stood with a shadowed intent of malice, whatever was next, Nevan would have to live with it.

With a final farewell, Nevan turned his back towards the remnant horde of men and their leader. He marched a slow pace, at the side of the one known as Shinaki, with a conflicting feel of ease. There was turmoil between them one could say, but Nevan believed this man to be someone he had, until now, never met. The one he encountered back in the encrusted fields of the West was a man named Asher; a brother who had sacrificed himself, time and time again for friendship and not a jealous endeavor for power or favoritism. This man here was more corrupt than the one he had known, and perhaps he still remained in that cell.

[Ravage Nocturne]

There could be no farewell, for they had never met.

He had been accepted, and had been abandoned. The story of his life. Whenever a person would express even mild interest in the Uchiha, they would always reconsider at the last moment, and take consideration of some other person instead. As if he was an expendable source of attention, people could shrug him off and bid him no further interaction. Below an animal, he became an item, a tool, equipment. People could retrieve him when desired, and remove him otherwise.

He would no longer be used.

Just what had he fought for, here? Some whim, the desire of a man? Shinaki never had been affected by the treachery of Hikado, and to that extent, why had he fought? It was no business of his own; he had more reason to have fought against Madara, than the late Tsuchikage. The simple truth of the matter was, a part of him would remain forever in that prison, questioning his motives and reasons that he engaged in anything not related to him. Animosity bled into his psyche now, and his soul blazed with a far darker fire.

But who wouldn't, had they shared his life's experience?

There was obvious tension between the two Uchiha now. Shinaki walked a considerable distance from his brother now, no longer shouldering the responsibility that he once had. They were compatriots through and through, but nothing more. Although with time he would falsify such relations after the initial awkward stage of reconciliation, Nevan would be none the wiser. What was the honest point in making bonds such as friendship, when others would stamp them out without a second thought?

The individual came before others, forever. Only selfishness existed.

Malice tasted metallic in his mouth, but he could swallow his pride for as long as he needed to exact his revenge. The world had to understand the severity of their actions against him, and the consequences that came with puppeteering an individual for personal gain. In full accordance to his emotional status, the Mangekyou spirals slowly with capricious harmony to his breathing. Slowly guiding his thoughts, the scarlet bleeds midnight as the pupils begin to dissipate and reform into the Toripuruha Sharingan. Himself regaining composure, the triplicate Sharingan replaces the malicious Mangekyou, promoting a sense of reprieve and solace. Maybe one day he would find retribution, and would drop this burden. One day, maybe he would no longer feel the need to enact brutality and pain upon those whom had hurt him.

One day...maybe he would be able to forgive.

Shifting his body weight as he walks with Nevan, he breathes in slowly as he prepares to address him.

"I hate you."

He states slowly, his voice even toned and smooth in action.

"But you are my brother, and are far more important than a grudge."

He admits, turning to face Nevan with a slight smile painted across his face. There was a certain credit that he could apply to himself for this level of skill. He was a magnificent thespian, wasn't he? Capable of molding such deep bonds and emotions with ease and perfection. By applying situation and considering rational response, it was an effortless act to perform such things.

"The real question is what you wish to do now. I will follow you."

He says as he turns to face the direction in which he walks, the Sharingan spinning wild with enthusiasm.

Soon.

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran stood up on top of a large building of rubble, alone. His arms crossed, his face unmoving and unwavering. He watched as Madara and the small remnants of his forces were cleared a path directly out of the village. The orders had been given to not intercept, allow them to leave. There was no point in bringing more destruction to this village. Every muscle tensed in his body, he felt himself welling up as Madara came even with him on the street below and then moved past. There were many with the same feelings as him, standing here or there watching as the vile man who had laid waste to the village walked out calmly.

Turning away from his hate, he jumped down and landed on the adjacent street, walking back towards the arena. He had no time to loose; he had to make a search team to head north to find the rest of the army. He wondered why Nevan had not left with Madara, had he finished with the two? Used them up to his advantage and then tossed them aside? It seemed likely. But only one thing was on his mind, and that was finding the girls.

Landing in front of Nevan and, to his dislike, Shinaki, Syaoran adressed him.

"What happened? I thought you were going with Madara?"

[Exodus]

A

dventure ~

Nevan offered a cruel smile and watched as the Alchem approached. His interruption seemed to prove quite convenient and right on schedule as usual. The chance was there; the three of them could challenge the armed forces as one and quell the threat that was assumed from each person still in existence in this broken village. However; Nevan and Shinaki were the only ones who had been left to consider both sides of the Tsuchikage's judgment, but none of that mattered as the murderer marched from his sins back into his reverie.

"Going with Madara? You're mistaken again.”

Nevan shook his head in disappointment but still managed a gracious smile on his face. He pocketed his hands and examined the seriousness built up around the two; Shinaki, and Syaoran. It was preposterous and misplaced, but Nevan could not complain. An inevitable snort brought the attention towards him once more and he looked up into the cold skies with dreary eyes.

"There is someone we must find, isn't that right, Alchem?”

His voice was majestic on the winds and carried a tune that held an air of wisdom to it. His mane of silk twirled and promenaded with the blissful winds as a breath escaped in reprieve. It was in this moment, that Nevan wondered beyond the depths of his ravenous mind, if the three of them could accomplish a history of their own together and forge their own destiny with the power that each of them had been blessed with. The wondrous thought passed and that exasperating tension returned.

"Lead the way.”

[cntrstrk14]

Syaoran brushed off his feelings for Shinaki, he still did not trust him but he would take Nevan's vouch for him and deal with the Uchiha for now.

"Yes, the first army we sent was a three days walk north. First question, where would the Yuki forces keep their prisoners? You guys should know something to that nature…”

Syaoran said with a hint of sarcasm. Getting back the Iwa prisoners would probably be a good place to start to get Syaoran's trust.

[Exodus]

With The Wind ~

The calm air was broken with a sudden adrenaline of heart. It was an impulse, an intuition, an instinctual sixth sense that winded into his composed posture and his mind erupted in a sudden desire to run. He didn't bother to react to the hint of sarcasm nor the lackluster silence that Shinaki exhibited; he couldn't as an adrenaline whispered in the air. Was it passion? The connection between their bodies was sealed with a kiss and he could hear her vanishing heartbeat on the winds; a theatrical stroke of luck perhaps. He cut his breath short and slipped from the picture in a blink of an eye. The breakneck speed was inconceivable as his expression denied the surrealism of his movements; his resolve was so much stronger, a resolve that was supported by a most altruistic reflection. He wasn't far; the entrance to the village was but a few seconds apart.

The mantra of the dead rose to a chorus as he passed through the burial ground; the new necropolis that sheltered the bodies of those had fallen for a simple cause. Each second this scent, this putrid stench bombarded his senses, he felt the itch of remorse. It was tolerable though; Nevan was past these childish games of blame, he had witnessed far worse in his time. His sandals tapped a lonely tune as he noticed the other two did not choose to follow with haste, or perhaps were too stunned by the sudden reaction to keep up. In spite of that, Nevan came across the township access once more, but this time it shared an incredible emptiness; there were only three souls he could make out and they were headed towards the nearby hospital.

Gone here;

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