“The Mist is one!”
“The Mist is one!”
“The Mist is one!”
...
The frenzy of the crowd burned hotly around him. Inflamed. Ironic that it was the chilling display and the icy words from the Yuki Head's frigid countenance that had kindled these sparks. Doused in fanfare and stoked with fanaticism, the people held no capacity for doubt or objection.
When people became enthralled, caught in the moment—seized by fear and entranced by dim rays of hope—there was no chance to slim, no opportunity too fleeting. A drowning man would clutch at a straw; because, no matter how flimsy and illogical their only salvation might seem, it was better than nothing.
Slipping out of the crowd—quite agile despite his hulking form—the man held his head low, eyeing the path he walked. The passion of the crowd faded with distance. The heat of their zealotry iced to desperation as, after lifting his head, the man pushed into a quiet bar. The bar's patrons were predominantly shinobi, hardened soldiers who'd seen battle and had seen true terror. Standing higher than the common citizens and possessing an acute awareness of the situation, their judgment was far more critical.
As the man ordered a drink—"Give me the usual, iced, with two limes..."—he sat back and listened. There was dubious talk in the air...
"I heard they're almost done with one of the Towers. Lapfires they're calling it?"
"Snapfires."
"Yea...that's it."
"How's it look? Strong?"
"It's strong alright, turned a huge block of Ice to dust."
"...Ice?"
"Is that a joke?"
"That thing handled the one-tails like a child and you're telling me about some...Ice?"
"They said its not done yet. They're building more."
"That'll take weeks...months! What if he comes back?"
"Fuck it, man...I gotta get out of here."
"Shhhhh!!! Don't talk like that. What if the Hunter-nin hear you?"
"To hell with the Hunter-nin! Are they going to fight that thing? They're just like us...scared."
"But still..."
"You can stay if you want, but I'm getting out of here. I'll take my chances with the Hunter nin, better than ever facing that again."
"You got...a plan?"
"Yea, I—"
The man excused himself. Sliding from his seat he left behind an empty glass and its payment. His sudden movements had caused the hushed conversation to stop, the group of wary shinobi eyeing him sneakily. They seemed to relax when he made no attempt to bother them but instead left the bar and stepped out onto the chilly streets.
The man ambled around a bit, wandering randomly through the streets of the Mist. After perhaps 15 minutes, he made a bee-line for a small, seemingly innocuous warehouse. He wasn't the only one there as a small handful of men and women were present, loitering around. Curiously, they were all massive, tall, and brawny people that would seem at place pumping steel at any Gym.
Another 15 minutes passed in silence and more people trickled in, the shortest of them was just shy of two meters. In total, twenty of them had gathered. They lined up 5 by 4 and, after another minute, two more people walked in. They were not any two people, but the closest aides of the Mizukage, wielders of the coveted dojutsu, Ao, and Chino.
"Make it quick, Lady Mizukage is waiting for our report. I'll keep vigil."
A veteran hunter-nin even before his acquisition of the Byakugan, Ao's skill with tracking and espionage was virtually unparalleled. While he cleaned up any evidence of their presence, Chino went to work on her thrills. The score of brawny bruisers seemed to shrink beneath the petit woman's gaze and then, as her eyes flashed red, they literally shrunk. Their flesh writhes in response to the blood beneath their skin, their bodies changing, faces distorting, orifices bleeding. In a matter of seconds, they had each bled out a volume of blood and their bodies now appeared completely different, indistinguishable from their former selves.
As Chino collected the extra blood that they'd expelled, her eyes flashed once more and the people seemed to fall into stupor and languor. They ambled out of the building, looking nothing like when they entered and Chino made her way over to Ao, speaking softly.
"I'm done, let's go. Her Ladyship is going to want to hear about this."
The memories of the twenty controlled thralls stirred in Chino's mind and she released them from their genjutsu with a parting command. They were to return to what they were doing prior to their trip of espionage and forget all about the events that transpired.
It was an experimental procedure that had been devised by the Mizukage and her aides. They would use the Ketsuryugan's genjutsu and disguising abilities to send unrecognizable agents to gather intel and hearsay throughout the village with advice and oversight from Ao of the hunter-nin division, before releasing them from the Ketsuryugan's influence and reporting their findings to Mei. The 'missions' were short, lasting less than an hour each time. The lives of the citizens were not to be disturbed and they'd carefully chosen their targetted thralls. The procedure, now proved successful, would be implemented on a larger scale both in the Mist and as outside espionage through the use of prisoners or other more disposable personages in the future. Or that was the plan.
As the duo sifted through the village and returned to the Kage mansion, they headed straight to the Mizukage's office. With the meeting still in postponement due to the arrival of the Clan Heads, to lack thereof, they were able to report to her immediately.
"It's as you've suspected Milady, talk of defection in on the rise. The hunter-nin will have their hands full in the coming months."
Hearing that, Mei sunk into her seat, her arms folded and brow furrowed. She wasn't surprised. Shinobi of the Mist had never been known for their undying loyalty. As much as their famed Hunter-nin were the pride of the village, their existence was also its shame. That unique division of Anbu existed for the primary purpose of hunting down traitors and defectors, and that the Mist had an entire division dedicated to that act was a testament to the frequency with which it happened.
The end of the Blood Mist should've put an end to those ridiculous rates of defection. Before they feared Mei's predecessors and their brutal traditions, now they feared Damos, a devil lurking just out of reach. One living hell had merely been replaced with another.
Nursing a developing migraine, the Mizuakge reasoned out a plan of action. She had a hundred and one fires and not enough hands to snuff them all out. In theory, the Clans should've been her crook and flail, people she could rely on to get things done; but, the reality was different. Her heralds, those she could trust to move swiftly and truly, were few. It was, perhaps, time that she looked into a faction of her own, a selection of shinobi whose ultimate loyalties were to the Kage.
Of course, the first place she would look to recruit members for the select group would be the noble clans. The gesture was a formality, as she didn't expect any of them to actually support her. However, the gesture necessitated itself. There was a need to at least show cordiality and willingness to work with the Clans.
And so it was that Mei drafted the document, outlining the recruitment of a more personal guard and a request for the Clans to send candidates they thought would be suited to serving the Mizukage. They would, of course, primarily become residents of the Kage mansion. She doubted it would ever come to that, but the formality was there.
“The Mist is one!”
“The Mist is one!”
...
The frenzy of the crowd burned hotly around him. Inflamed. Ironic that it was the chilling display and the icy words from the Yuki Head's frigid countenance that had kindled these sparks. Doused in fanfare and stoked with fanaticism, the people held no capacity for doubt or objection.
When people became enthralled, caught in the moment—seized by fear and entranced by dim rays of hope—there was no chance to slim, no opportunity too fleeting. A drowning man would clutch at a straw; because, no matter how flimsy and illogical their only salvation might seem, it was better than nothing.
Slipping out of the crowd—quite agile despite his hulking form—the man held his head low, eyeing the path he walked. The passion of the crowd faded with distance. The heat of their zealotry iced to desperation as, after lifting his head, the man pushed into a quiet bar. The bar's patrons were predominantly shinobi, hardened soldiers who'd seen battle and had seen true terror. Standing higher than the common citizens and possessing an acute awareness of the situation, their judgment was far more critical.
As the man ordered a drink—"Give me the usual, iced, with two limes..."—he sat back and listened. There was dubious talk in the air...
"I heard they're almost done with one of the Towers. Lapfires they're calling it?"
"Snapfires."
"Yea...that's it."
"How's it look? Strong?"
"It's strong alright, turned a huge block of Ice to dust."
"...Ice?"
"Is that a joke?"
"That thing handled the one-tails like a child and you're telling me about some...Ice?"
"They said its not done yet. They're building more."
"That'll take weeks...months! What if he comes back?"
"Fuck it, man...I gotta get out of here."
"Shhhhh!!! Don't talk like that. What if the Hunter-nin hear you?"
"To hell with the Hunter-nin! Are they going to fight that thing? They're just like us...scared."
"But still..."
"You can stay if you want, but I'm getting out of here. I'll take my chances with the Hunter nin, better than ever facing that again."
"You got...a plan?"
"Yea, I—"
The man excused himself. Sliding from his seat he left behind an empty glass and its payment. His sudden movements had caused the hushed conversation to stop, the group of wary shinobi eyeing him sneakily. They seemed to relax when he made no attempt to bother them but instead left the bar and stepped out onto the chilly streets.
The man ambled around a bit, wandering randomly through the streets of the Mist. After perhaps 15 minutes, he made a bee-line for a small, seemingly innocuous warehouse. He wasn't the only one there as a small handful of men and women were present, loitering around. Curiously, they were all massive, tall, and brawny people that would seem at place pumping steel at any Gym.
Another 15 minutes passed in silence and more people trickled in, the shortest of them was just shy of two meters. In total, twenty of them had gathered. They lined up 5 by 4 and, after another minute, two more people walked in. They were not any two people, but the closest aides of the Mizukage, wielders of the coveted dojutsu, Ao, and Chino.
"Make it quick, Lady Mizukage is waiting for our report. I'll keep vigil."
A veteran hunter-nin even before his acquisition of the Byakugan, Ao's skill with tracking and espionage was virtually unparalleled. While he cleaned up any evidence of their presence, Chino went to work on her thrills. The score of brawny bruisers seemed to shrink beneath the petit woman's gaze and then, as her eyes flashed red, they literally shrunk. Their flesh writhes in response to the blood beneath their skin, their bodies changing, faces distorting, orifices bleeding. In a matter of seconds, they had each bled out a volume of blood and their bodies now appeared completely different, indistinguishable from their former selves.
As Chino collected the extra blood that they'd expelled, her eyes flashed once more and the people seemed to fall into stupor and languor. They ambled out of the building, looking nothing like when they entered and Chino made her way over to Ao, speaking softly.
"I'm done, let's go. Her Ladyship is going to want to hear about this."
The memories of the twenty controlled thralls stirred in Chino's mind and she released them from their genjutsu with a parting command. They were to return to what they were doing prior to their trip of espionage and forget all about the events that transpired.
It was an experimental procedure that had been devised by the Mizukage and her aides. They would use the Ketsuryugan's genjutsu and disguising abilities to send unrecognizable agents to gather intel and hearsay throughout the village with advice and oversight from Ao of the hunter-nin division, before releasing them from the Ketsuryugan's influence and reporting their findings to Mei. The 'missions' were short, lasting less than an hour each time. The lives of the citizens were not to be disturbed and they'd carefully chosen their targetted thralls. The procedure, now proved successful, would be implemented on a larger scale both in the Mist and as outside espionage through the use of prisoners or other more disposable personages in the future. Or that was the plan.
As the duo sifted through the village and returned to the Kage mansion, they headed straight to the Mizukage's office. With the meeting still in postponement due to the arrival of the Clan Heads, to lack thereof, they were able to report to her immediately.
"It's as you've suspected Milady, talk of defection in on the rise. The hunter-nin will have their hands full in the coming months."
Hearing that, Mei sunk into her seat, her arms folded and brow furrowed. She wasn't surprised. Shinobi of the Mist had never been known for their undying loyalty. As much as their famed Hunter-nin were the pride of the village, their existence was also its shame. That unique division of Anbu existed for the primary purpose of hunting down traitors and defectors, and that the Mist had an entire division dedicated to that act was a testament to the frequency with which it happened.
The end of the Blood Mist should've put an end to those ridiculous rates of defection. Before they feared Mei's predecessors and their brutal traditions, now they feared Damos, a devil lurking just out of reach. One living hell had merely been replaced with another.
Nursing a developing migraine, the Mizuakge reasoned out a plan of action. She had a hundred and one fires and not enough hands to snuff them all out. In theory, the Clans should've been her crook and flail, people she could rely on to get things done; but, the reality was different. Her heralds, those she could trust to move swiftly and truly, were few. It was, perhaps, time that she looked into a faction of her own, a selection of shinobi whose ultimate loyalties were to the Kage.
Of course, the first place she would look to recruit members for the select group would be the noble clans. The gesture was a formality, as she didn't expect any of them to actually support her. However, the gesture necessitated itself. There was a need to at least show cordiality and willingness to work with the Clans.
And so it was that Mei drafted the document, outlining the recruitment of a more personal guard and a request for the Clans to send candidates they thought would be suited to serving the Mizukage. They would, of course, primarily become residents of the Kage mansion. She doubted it would ever come to that, but the formality was there.
