My Techniques are a bit off

Night fell.

"Drip… drip…"

Blood trickled down, pooling beneath a ninja impaled through the throat by Sasori's tail. The ninja's eyes remained wide open in fury before life slipped away.

Several bodies lay scattered on the ground—some with their heads split open, others with their chests torn apart, and a few with their faces a sickly shade of blue.

"Not a single worthwhile material…"

Sasori clicked his tongue, flicking the lifeless ninja off his tail. The corpse hit the ground with a dull thud as he turned his gaze toward a distant building.

His childhood, spent waiting endlessly at home, had left him with a deep hatred for waiting—or being kept waiting.

"Deidara still hasn't finished?"

His eyes narrowed with impatience.

"Boom!"

A wooden structure erupted in flames, sending debris flying. The explosions continued in rapid succession, engulfing the entire Daimyō's palace in a fiery inferno.

"Hahaha!"

Deidara's unrestrained laughter echoed through the night as he approached, standing atop a clay owl used for reconnaissance. His face lit up with exhilaration.

"Sasori, why don't we just level this whole place? What do you think? Hm?"

The organization's leader rarely allowed him to indulge in such wanton destruction, so being unleashed like this had him ecstatic. The mission had been far too easy—no challenge at all.

"Do as you please," Sasori replied coldly, glancing at the smoldering remains of the palace before vanishing.

The mission was complete; the rest was beneath his concern. The materials in this pitiful country weren't even worth adding to his collection.

"Chomp, chomp…"

Deidara's mouth curled into an unsettling grin as the mouths on his palms chewed eagerly at clay. His owl ascended higher into the night sky.

"Let's make something bigger. Hm..."

As the wind whipped through his cloak, he scattered countless clay bombs below.

"Art is an explosion!" he exclaimed as the bombs rained down.

"Boom!"

The surrounding districts were instantly engulfed in flames, a dazzling display of fire and destruction. Watching the chaos below, Deidara's excitement grew, his face flushing with delight.

Feeling his chakra reserves, he began crafting another wave of explosives, lost in his artistic reverie.

"Boom!"

A thunderous explosion shook the inn. Link's eyes snapped open as he jumped out of bed, heading for the hotel's rooftop.

"What the…?"

In the distance, the aristocratic district was ablaze, the flames turning night into day. Explosions crept ever closer, and Link quickly located a powerful chakra signature high in the sky.

"A ninja is attacking the city," he muttered.

Gaara appeared in a swirl of sand, looking up at the fiery sky. The flames illuminated a figure in the distance, raining down strange objects that detonated on impact.

"Deidara of the Akatsuki—an artist of destruction," Link identified him internally, his mind racing.

Watching Deidara approach, Link formed hand seals: "Earth Style: Earth-Style Wall!"

The ground rose to form a protective dome around the hotel.

"Thud!"

A muffled explosion sent dirt flying, but the wall held firm.

Gaara scowled at Deidara's distant figure, observing the same unsettling look in his eyes that he once saw in himself—a craving for destruction.

But now, who was he? The question left him momentarily lost.

"We need to leave immediately," Link instructed his team, his expression grave.

The Land of Rivers had fallen, and its fledgling government had barely established itself before being reduced to rubble. This tiny country was spiraling into chaos.

Worse still, Akatsuki members rarely operated alone. If Deidara was here, Sasori couldn't be far behind—and Link had a captured spy, Yakushi Kabuto, who might be of interest to them.

From the manga, he knew Sasori's techniques could extend across great distances. If Kabuto had been under Sasori's control before Orochimaru intervened, who knew what lingering effects might remain?

"Shhhht!"

The team sprinted through the city, avoiding fires and explosions. Link didn't attempt to stop Deidara or extinguish the flames; his priority was escaping the city. Kabuto, bound and carried like luggage by shadow clones, dangled behind them.

Fortunately, their inn was near the city's outskirts. In a short time, they reached the wilderness beyond the capital.

"!"

A sharp whistling cut through the air.

"Thud!"

A blackened senbon embedded itself in Gaara's sand, piercing through before falling harmlessly to the ground.

The group stopped in their tracks.

"Sasori-sama, it's been a while."

Kabuto lifted his head, smiling at the cloaked figure standing before them. "Over two years, wasn't it?"

The figure's red clouds and black cloak confirmed his identity—Sasori of the Akatsuki.

"Kabuto, you've brought me quite the gift," Sasori said, his voice tinged with delight. His tail swayed behind him as he assessed the group. "A jinchūriki... and Konoha's Link."

Sasori's gaze lingered on Link, noting the summoned shadows guarding their retreat.

"Sasori..."

Kankurō felt a chill as he controlled his puppet, Karasu, to shield the team. The name alone sent a wave of unease through him.

"Thud!"

Sasori's tail struck down a shadow attempting a sneak attack. The swarm of shadows retaliated, converging on him.

"Clack—snap!"

Sasori opened his mouthpiece, unleashing a torrent of senbon. The projectiles tore through the shadows, clearing a path with mechanical precision.

"Boom!"

Exploding kunai failed to harm the group, deflected by the impenetrable Rashomon Gate that materialized to shield them.

The ominous gate creaked open, and two figures emerged—Baki and Uchiha Fugaku, both summoned from beyond.

"So it's true... the summoning jutsu that calls the dead," Sasori mused, his calm exterior betraying a flicker of excitement.

"Such a technique... this boy must become my finest masterpiece."

He glanced at Baki and Uchiha Fugaku, who were vaguely surrounding him and blocking his pursuit of the five people who had escaped. His prosthetic arm shot out.

~~~

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