Naruto: Zombie Release

The blood-soaked forehead protector of Nono, the medical-nin of Konoha, had long since been saturated with crimson.

She trudged forward through the whipping wind and stinging sand, three shuriken embedded deep in her left shoulder, while a Sand Village pursuit unit closed in behind her relentlessly.

"Just a little more… That conversation with Sasori cost me precious time."

Nono felt like she was on the verge of death. But not a trace of panic stirred in her heart. This calm, even in the face of mortal danger, was the hallmark of a top-tier spy. "

As long as I can get this intel back to the front lines, we may be able to end the war with Sunagakure just a bit sooner."

Even a single day earlier could save countless lives. That was more than enough reason to fight on.

Suddenly, the air erupted with swirling sand. 

A localized sandstorm burst forth out of nowhere. Countless grains pelted Nono like a rain of daggers, battering her body and obscuring her sight.

Two puppets lunged through the haze, silent predators in the storm. Their mouths opened to spew acid mist, attempting to melt her flesh into a pitted husk.

Nono could barely open her eyes. She rolled to the side on instinct. But from beneath the sand, a tail-like puppet limb sprang up, piercing her flank clean through. The injury piled agony atop agony.

"A spy who's been exposed, did you really think you could escape?"

The commander of the Sand pursuit team stood atop a rock wall, smirking coldly. His hands remained locked in a seal; the sudden storm was clearly his doing.

"Hand over the intel you stole from the village. I'll grant you a whole corpse. That's the most mercy you'll get. You had the gall to approach Sasori, he's a genius of Sunagakure!"

"You're not getting anything from me."

Nono glanced around at the dozen or so enemies surrounding her, but her gaze ultimately fixed on the one controlling the sandstorm.

She recalled the intelligence report on this dangerous man, Araki of the Sandstorm. A shinobi who specialized in creating sandstorms. 

In the Land of Wind, that gave him an overwhelming advantage in battle.

"Sunagakure has its share of talent too, and they've mastered their own unique jutsu."

Nono thought silently to herself. Then she suddenly crushed a glass vial sewn into her sleeve and swiftly covered her mouth and nose. 

A thick plume of violet smoke exploded outward, rapidly spreading through the whirling sand.

Araki sneered, unphased. "You think I wouldn't be prepared? You're a medical-nin, right? I've already studied the intel on Konoha's medical corps."

He quickly formed another seal. The sandstorm abruptly shifted, sweeping the purple poison cloud in a single direction.

"This is Sanshouo poison I acquired in the Land of Rain. It may not be from the salamander Hanzo controlled, but it's more than enough to catch you off guard."

Nono held her breath. It was the only way to reduce the poison entering through her skin, sanshōuo poison could be absorbed through the pores.

"I didn't release the gas to kill them. I'm just buying time… Until reinforcements arrive. The people who sent me on this mission won't let me die while I'm still useful."

Fshhh!

Three reanimated corpses charged across the battlefield. With each burst of movement, chunks of decaying flesh tore from their bodies. 

Their physical functions had clearly been pushed well beyond normal limits.

The Sand shinobi quickly assessed the threat. Their eyes gleamed with excitement.

"That's it! The Konoha ninja's Dead Soul Technique!"

"Hmph, we were hoping this spy might draw out more Konoha shinobi. Looks like we got lucky."

Even Araki felt a jolt of surprise. Everyone knew how highly Chiyo regarded Arata. 

As one of Sunagakure's seasoned elite Jonin, and practically part of the leadership, he knew many of the village's secrets. 

He'd even caught wind of the beginnings of some kind of human puppet experiment.

It didn't take much imagination to realize how valuable the Dead Soul Technique could be.

"Take them down from range! Those corpses probably have explosive tags attached!"

Araki barked orders as his hand twisted midair. "Magnet Release: Sand Dust Drizzle!"

A barrage of sharpened sand blades pierced the reanimated corpses. In mere moments, the three were shredded like paper dolls.

"As expected, destroying the head really does shut down their activity."

Araki took the opportunity to test his theory. 

Only one of the corpses, the one with a gaping hole in its waist and a broken spine, showed any signs of motion, it stood in place, feebly flailing its arms.

The other two remained still.

What puzzled him, though, was that none of the corpses had explosive tags. Weren't they meant to self-destruct?

"Looks like Arata has matured. He's learning to adapt his tactics," Araki scoffed, then signaled for his team to surround Arata and his allies.

Two puppets surged ahead, chattering ominously as they lunged at the Konoha shinobi.

"The good news: the comrade we came to rescue is still alive. The bad news: we're outnumbered," Arata said, opening his eyes. The failure of the three zombies didn't concern him.

He carried a summoning scroll, always ready to call forth new corpses. He'd even sent two to play dead, buried at 50 and 150 meters from the battlefield.

Terai, watching carefully, took full measure of Arata's abilities. 

"So your Dead Soul Technique grants you sensory capabilities too? No wonder Sunagakure is so keen on greeting you personally."

Under Terai's command, the Konoha shinobi moved fast. Their sole objective was to reach Nono and secure the intel.

As the strongest among the support squad, elite Jonin Terai naturally took point against Araki.

Arata unfurled his scroll and summoned two more zombies, launching into action with his teammates. He stayed close behind the reanimated corpses, shielded by his comrades.

This wasn't unusual. Medical-nin and sensory types were always prioritized for protection. Unfortunately, that also made them prime targets for the enemy.

Ninjutsu exchanges erupted across the battlefield. Fire clashed with lightning. Gales roared through clouds of sand.

Arata took advantage of the moment when the enemy puppet master was occupied with Isuke's team. 

He sent a corpse charging toward the enemy and triggered a detonation, he wasn't short on funds anymore. 

Since earning his promotion to Chunin, his battlefield clearance allowed him easier access to explosive tags and other ninja tools. 

He'd slap them onto every bone in a zombie's body if he could.

Boom!

A deafening explosion ripped through the storm-choked air, momentarily carving a vacuum of silence. 

A Sand shinobi was blown to pieces, flesh and bone raining down on both sides indiscriminately.

No one flinched. In this kind of bloodbath, who cared if someone else's tissue landed on them?

"Watch out! You're the main target, not me!" Nono shouted.

Arata's expression didn't change. He'd already anticipated that.

Several Sand ninja charged at him.

Araki pushed his terrain advantage to the limit. Despite burning through chakra at a brutal rate, he thickened the storm, obscuring Terai's vision.

To be honest, Terai resembled Sakumo in combat style, strong solo operatives, both of them. 

He was more than capable of fending for himself, but suppressing an enemy like Araki over an extended period was a different story.

In the blink of an eye, Arata found himself in a tight spot. His position was too far forward. Just two steps back and his maneuverability would've been far better.

"Got him," Araki muttered, one hand controlling the storm, the other forming a sand vortex around Arata, trying to trap him for the finishing blow.

But Arata showed no panic. Calmly, he formed a seal. And just as the enemy closed in to take him down hand-to-hand, 

He vanished.

Fshhh!

In his place appeared the broken, paralyzed zombie from earlier, its spine shattered, its legs useless. Even now, it was mid-hand seal.

Arata reappeared at the zombie's original location, roughly ten meters from Araki. Their eyes locked instantly.

"...Flying Thunder God?!"

Araki's face twisted in horror, disbelief written all over him.