The Last Avenger and the World of Omni: Homecoming

[Sasuke Uchiha]

Bursting through the portal’s nebula of ionized gas at breakneck speeds, Sasuke Uchiha encountered an all too familiar breadth of heat upon his departure from the Nexus. Mountains of sand blotted the horizon and gave way to the oven baked winds of the verse, forcing the ninja to shield his eyes while he traveled. Something akin to the sweltering sensation of a thousand fire style jutsus being released at once caressed the shinobi’s skin, as he careened past a once desolate, now bustling way-station in the namesake of Carrefore. 

Having heard many tales of the city during his reign as Hand to the King in Nippur, and a need to stretch his legs after such long slumber, the shinobi couldn’t resist the detour; even if for only a moment’s glance, at a rocket’s speed. The fact the city was well armed did not go unnoticed to the shinobi. If memory served him right, the Imperial presence had not been this strong previously, and though the guards did not delay the shinobi, with scans and macho posturing for authority, he was certain they took notice of his sighting. It was likely reports of the Dante’s Abyss Champion’s return would make it to the higher ranks of Coruscant. Images of shadowy figures far more sinister than the Sergeant Commander, Arnold Hammond flashed within shinobi’s mind.

“I see.” the shinobi smirked as the waystation became smaller and smaller against his backside, the ‘rock n roll’ tunes of Rick’s Café American all but gone now. “The Empire’s influence grows stronger.” Sasuke said on the move, his sandaled feet detonating eruptions of sand in their wake.

 “Even here in the dunes,” the ninja breathed between strides, “that’s likely something I’ll have to contend with.” The thought gave the ninja pause to consider: Was that even his business anymore? Exactly how would the shinobi be received in Nippur? What of Gilgamesh? From what he had gathered from his research on the Dataverse, the city had been sacked, abandoned, and led to ruin in his absence. Contempt boiled to the tip of his throat as the shinobi dashed alongside newly constructed train tracks he’d never seen before.

It was an odd feeling, his involvement in New Babylon was a means to an end, a power to gain retribution, but the people of Nippur, and those who served it… they had depended on him. To them he, and those like him, meant a better life. He felt ashamed, having allowed such descent to befall the people of Nippur. Gritting his teeth, the ninja lowered his head, focused the strength in his legs, and surged forward, creating a vacuum funnel of sand behind him.

The road to Nippur was a long one, but Sasuke felt lighter than ever. His muscles rejoiced in their use and rewarded him with newfound vigor, culminating in a blazing pace of speed he’d never fully had access to. His muscles weren’t just waking up, they were yearning to be used. A fleeting, momentary sensation to holler, ‘Whooohooo!’ like that of the knucklehead, Naruto, came and went, leaving a cheesy grin on the shinobi’s face as he bounded dune after dune. The shinobi shook his head, allowing a chuckle to escape his diaphragm. 
 
Town with No Name. It too seemed to have progressed in its development, however the militant environment of Carrefore was replaced, save for the center of town, with a more nefarious gathering of desperadoes. Only the center of town seemed fit for decent folk and there the tracks ended. The location had always intrigued the shinobi. For someone who knew not of the American Wild West, it was a phenomena, and the opportunity to explore its culture was poorly missed as the shinobi whirled past, leaving the town and the tracks behind.

 Rocketing onwards, lizards, arachnids, and scarabs all scurried from under foot, trying to avoid being trampled by the Dante’s Abyss Champion as he made little work of traversing the Endless Dunes. Bounding difficult areas and sprinting others, the youth felt a vibration in his garments from the communicator and retrieved it, mid-bound.

“Looks like I got a hit already.” Sasuke said as he placed a finger to his inbox and read the e-mail, mid stride. A moment later, he had created a response, tucked the tech back into his garments, and furthered his goals, all without slowing his pace.

A blur of cobalt, the ninja passed a few settlements not sizable enough for recognition before encountering his first real trouble in the verse, and halted. The shinobi raised a hand to shield his eyes from the vicious bite of the mid-day sun, and peered across the terrain he had yet to travel. On the horizon, a violent sandstorm rolled in, threatening to swallow the shinobi’s way.

“It’s just up ahead,” the shinobi spoke to himself reluctantly, “right through all that bullshit.” Refusing to be thwarted, he pressed against a maelstrom of sand, cacti, and tumbleweed for several minutes, until the resistance grew too fierce. Stagnate, the shinobi bucked and thrashed against the sandstorm’s pressure to no avail. It seemed as though he would have to turn back after all, or at least, wait it out.

“Fuck this.” The shinobi mouthed from under protection of his garments. Suddenly, an aura of dark malevolence enveloped Sasuke, black flames danced across his skin, and a sinister tribal seared into it. With the curse mark active, the ninja shielded his face, bore into the storm with a newfound vigor, and located Nippur on the other side, several tens of minutes later. Exhausted, the shinobi plopped down on his haunches, caught his breath, and took in Nippur’s scenery. The curse mark dissipated from his skin as he spoke between breaths, “Home, sweet home.”

[Kuzuru]

“Damn,” Kuzuru muttered as his eyes scanned the horizon, “wonder if this place is really endless.”

Heat pressed its sandy thumb down onto the injured demon. A thin layer of sweat clung to his ruddy skin and glistened in the oppressive sun. He groaned. His still-fresh wounds stung as salty sweat chewed at them and he gave some serious thought to packing it in and heading back home. Were it not for the apparent skill of his potential ally he would have done just that, but Sasuke intrigued him in a way that made the heat barely bearable. Despite the strict instructions from Mathaziel to not fight Sasuke the demon found himself fantasizing about dueling with the D.A. champion. With a disappointed sigh he swatted away the idea.

Miles and miles worth of sand stretched out before him and according to his phone’s GPS equivalent there was even more sand than that between him and Nippur. Kuzuru held out his hand and called upon that miraculous substance known as Omnilium. This scintillating orb of potential morphed and shifted into a the rough frame of a vehicle. Thick knobby tires wrapped themselves around a set of lightweight rims which in turn wrapped themselves around a series of axles. A roll cage with a canopy stretched across it formed a shell that protected against the overbearing sun. However most of the omnilium was spent on an onboard computer that was capable of autonomous driving. After several minutes Kuzuru’s hazard yellow dune buggy was completed. He wiped away the beads of sweat on his brow and climbed into the vehicle.

Now that his brain was cooking inside a skull-sized oven he took a moment to relax. Once again he called upon Omnilium and created a large glass filled to the brim with a refreshing fruity drink. He sipped the beverage and loaded up the buggy’s self-driving programs. Nippur was punched into the vehicle’s navigation system and in a cloud of sand the buggy peeled off into the distance. Kuzuru kicked up his feet and reclined in his chair. It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, but the demon figured it was a whole lot better than walking. He sipped his drink and loaded up the vods of DA ‘15 on his phone. The demon had lost count of just how many times he had watched the competition, but he knew that no matter how many times it would never be enough.

Hours passed as Kuzuru’s buggy carved a path through the Endless Dunes. He had long since finished his drink and the sugar had made his stomach upset. Were it not for the constant vibration and occasional jumpiness of his buggy he would’ve been able to take a nap. His viewing party had already exhausted several highlight compilations and analysis videos and he had strayed into some weird music video mashups. His navigation system slowly ticked down the time and estimated several more hours until he reached Nippur. He yawned and loaded up another video.

A shiver shot up the demon’s spine and his pupils dilated. Danger was in the air, imperceptible to most, but Kuzuru’s heightened senses alerted him to its presence. This sixth sense gave him only a second and a half of preparation before his buggy was sent tumbling end over end. An explosion detonated underneath the buggy’s front wheel. Kuzuru’s world became a dizzying series of snapshots as the sky and earth blurred together. Several violent seconds later the demon found himself upside strapped into a half-buried buggy. Blood trickled down his nose and formed matted clumps in his hair. His vision blurred and he fumbled with the clasp to his seatbelt. After a few moments of concussed fumbling he finally resealed the restraints and gravity threw him against the upside down roll cage. Kuzuru groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Voices, distant at first but gradually growing closer, filled the air.

“Helluva shot,” a gruff voice spoke.

“Think he’s alive?” a female asked, her voice scratchy with years of nicotine abuse.

A third, younger voice answered, “no way, that thing flipped at least ten times.”

“Wanna bet on it?” the woman asked.

There was a pause and then the young voice answered, “y’know what? Sure I bet you 10 OM that the poor bastard is nothing but a mangled corpse.”

“Deal.”

Shadows approached the flipped buggy. Kuzuru could see the lower halves of their bodies. One carried some bastardized version of a submachine gun, another carried a rust-covered sword, and the third carried what appeared to be a makeshift RPG launcher. The shrill cry of tinnitus plagued his ears and the concussion kept him groggy, but the demon managed to roll onto his side.

“Something’s moving,” the gruff voice said as they all came to stop.

“Not for long,” the woman said and raised her SMG.

A glint of metal caught their eyes as a black iron chain whizzed up over the buggy. This weighted chain spiraled through the air and wrapped itself around the gun’s barrel. Reflexively the bandit squeezed the trigger as the gun was ripped from her hands. Several wold shots kicked up plumes of sand as the weapon was tossed several feet away. Kuzuru stepped out from behind the wreckage as the chain slithered back up into his hand.

“Good grief,” the demon muttered, wiping away the curtain of blood that covered his face, “you guys are real dicks, you know that right?”

The largest of the three leveled the RPG at Kuzuru and said in a gravel-filled voice, “you don’t know how fucked you are do you?”

Kuzuru smirked and held out his arms, and responded, “guess not, care to enlighten me?”

“It’d be my pleasure hoss,” the man said and pulled the trigger.

The spring-loaded grenade kicked high into the air before stabilizing and headed straight for the demon’s chest. He rushed forward, keeping his eyes trained on the explosive projectile. In a move that’d make a figure skater blush Kuzuru sidestepped the grenade without losing his hellish forward momentum. A thick set of iron blades erupted out from beneath the skin on forearms and he grew ever closer. Behind him the grenade detonated, washing over them all with heat and sand.

Showing either bravery or stupidity the sword-wielding bandit stepped forward, brandishing his scrap metal weapon. The screech of metal on metal filled the air followed by a ribbon of blood. Kuzuru swatted away the weapon with one blade and skewered the poor guy with another. The demon’s eyes caught sight of a pistol being drawn and he used the half-dead body of his victim as a shield. The pistol barked three times and buried hot lead into the young bandit’s back. Kuzuru inhaled deeply, his chest swelling to inhuman proportions. In one swift move he tossed aside the meat shield and expelled the contents of his chest. Dozens of foot-long needles rocketed out from the demon’s maw like scattershot from Diablo’s shotgun. These spikes impaled the gruff, pistol-wielding bandit. In the matter of a few seconds all that remained was Kuzuru and the female scavenger. Kuzuru locked eyes with the last of his assailants.

“Well?” he asked as he sauntered towards her, “you gonna run?”

She chuckled and spoke with a hint of fear, “you’re an idiot, you just signed up for a fate worse than death.”

Kuzuru exaggerated a yawn and said, “jeeze, do you vultures know how to do anything besides bluster, seriously, what do you think you can do to me girly?”

“Not me,” she answered, “our leader dumbass.”

“Oh? And who would that be, darling?”

“Gilgamesh! He’s a prime and he’s the baddest warlord around,” she said, “you can’t stop him, he’s been banished and clawed his way back, face it dumbass, you’re fucked, you’re extra fucked if you don’t let me go!”

Gilgamesh? The Gilgamesh? Kuzuru paused in front of her. The blades in his arms receded and he furrowed his blood-stained brows.

“Now you’re putting it together asshole,” she snapped at him, “so why don’t you crawl back into your little buggy and kill yourself!”

The woman’s insults droned on and on. Kuzuru scowled. If he remembered correctly the king had been banished quite some time ago. If he had really clawed his way out of the Underverse, well, that made him an absolutely delicious target. Perhaps a little detour wouldn’t hurt? Then again Sasuke was waiting for him.

“Asshole, dumbass, prick, retard!” the woman screamed, “fuck off already!”

Striking like a coiled viper Kuzuru pounced at her. They slammed against the hot sand and the demon’s hand wrapped around the scavenger’s throat. She choked and struggled against the vice clamped across her windpipe. Kuzuru locked eyes with her and a scowl played across his lips. Her quickened pulse throbbed against his fingertips. Fingernails dug trenches into his forearm and he winced in response. He sighed and brought his face close to hers.

“Shut up,” he said, punctuating each word by squeezing harder.

For a while the two struggled against each other, but eventually the scavenger’s will to live faded. Oxygen deprivation turned her face an ugly purple and the pulse between Kuzuru’s fingertips slowed to an eventual stop. A flame had been snuffed between the girl’s eyes and she had shed her mortal coil. Once the demon was satisfied with his handiwork and released his grip. The pale imprint of his hand stayed behind, still wrapped around the scavenger’s strangled neck. Kuzuru sighed and stood. What a mess this had turned into. He turned back to the now flaming wreckage of his buggy.

“It always has to be something huh?” he muttered.

[Sasuke Uchiha]

“I don’t miss this heat.” the Dante’s Abyss champion muttered, as he trudged up a bank of sand, against a sea of ochre. Sweat glistened off the ninja’s brow, dry and cracked lips parted into a smile, and his eyes locked on the once grand, now tattered, sandstone walls bearing the Kingdom of Gilgamesh. A city of mesmeric countenance for the shinobi, it bathed him in nostalgia, and the gilded palace in the distance reminded him of his first ventures as the King’s Hand in Nippur; his first attempt to bring order to a chaotic verse. He had such hope then.

Sasuke shook his cloak of the sandstorm he’d defied to arrive, and pulled it close, noting the abandoned guard station as ominous, upon passing through its entrance. A coarse sand, left in the storm’s wake, blanketed the kingdom, as the shinobi walked the silent streets of Nippur’s marketplace. It was bizarre. The city was a shell of the mecca it had once been, confirming the dataverse’s accuracy on its grim reporting. With the budding metropolis now a desolate requiem to better times, the shop stalls he passed had all but withered under copious mounds of sand.

Where were all the people? It didn’t sit right with the shinobi, he needed answers, and figuring the best place to find them, the ninja took off towards the palace. Bounding the city’s passageways and outside corridors in a flash, with little need for caution of civilians, the shinobi exited the marketplace and encountered his first signs of life.

Four gruff looking individuals, armed with various swords and axes, stood deep in conversation with one another, just outside the palace gates, as though awaiting their opening. “You men here,” the ninja interrupted their conversation, “I have some questions.”

“’Ello,” one of the men blurted out, surprised by Sasuke’s sudden approach, “what do we ‘ave ‘ere, boys?” Facetious, snide, and full of contempt, the brute jeered, “Are ya lost little boy? Do ya need ‘elp?” His tone did not go unnoticed and issued a chorus of laughter from the others. “Get lost!”

“Nah, I’m not lost,” the shinobi grinned as he eyed their spokesman suspiciously, “I’m right where I want to be.” Sasuke’s eyes came alive with the bloodline of his clan, gave each of them a once over, and then commanded, “Tell me then. Do you not recognize me?”

“Should we, pal?” one of the ruffians spat before their party’s temperament faltered, a few of them put out their cigarettes, and all positioned themselves to Sasuke’s focal point. “Seems to me, it’s you who doesn’t recognize the situation, brat.” Sasuke remained silent as the four of them drew their respective steel, circled the Dante’s Abyss champion, and displayed a dastardly excitement. “Go ahead, tell me who you are,” the lead bandit cooed, “so I can tell the boss who we killed.”

Boss? I’ll have to find out who that is, the ninja thought. “You would kill me?” Sasuke demanded, flashing his teeth in anger, and drew his own steel. “For absolutely no reason at all?!”

“Sure! Why not?” the man replied, lunging forward with vicious intent, and a swing of his axe; his comrades followed.  

Mindless violence, Sasuke thought, these men aren’t worth the lives they cling to. The shinobi moved with a martial art prowess they had never seen before, orchestrating a symphony of steel on steel, and then, inevitably, of steel on flesh. Blood spurted and the ninja’s face came away covered in crimson. Three bodies hit the floor.

“Nooo!!!” The original bandit to address Sasuke whined. “Please!!!” Now a lone survivor, he dropped to his knees and pleaded for his life before asking, “Who are you?”

“Sasuke Uchiha, of New Babylon,” the shinobi spoke passionately, “Dante’s Abyss champion, avenger to the Uchiha clan, and Hand to King Gilgamesh. Perhaps you’ve heard of him?” Sasuke sheathed kusanagi, placed a heel to the bandit’s chest, and gave a kick that would injure, but not kill. The bandit hit the sands with a thud and a groan. “He rules here. When you give your boss my name, you can tell him New Babylon still reigns supreme.”

“Oh thank you,” the bandit groveled, “thank you for your mercy, your grace! Thank you so much! I’ll tell him right away!”

Sasuke smirked as the coward fled into the marketplace, but before he could give it much thought, the palace doors swung open. A husky, tall, and dark skinned male came sauntering down the steps; hands attending to an undone buckle on his pants as he went. With his manhood safely tucked away, the man became aware of the pool of blood he was standing in, and the three dead men sprawled out on the floor that caused it. Angered, the man pulled a flintlock pistol from its holster and directed it at Sasuke, “Did you do this?”

“Yea,” the Uchiha smiled, “just taking out the trash.” He tilted his head and thumbed towards the dead men slain in the sands, “Looks like the city could use some cleaning up.”

“You stupid son of a bitch.” The man said as he gave his trigger finger a good squeeze, relieved a bullet from its chamber, and knocked Sasuke from his feet. Everything happened so fast, before the shinobi could react, the bullet had pierced his chest, left a hole on the other end, and put the ninja on his back. Blood trickled down his torso, his breathing grew weak, and agony colored the shinobi’s face .The gunman stood over Sasuke, holstered his pistol, and spat, “That’s what you get when you fuck with the Deathchew clan.”

“Deathchew?” Sasuke’s voice came from behind the gunslinger as the wounded ninja’s body vanished before the gunman’s eyes. With a plume of smoke, a piece of oak lumber had been left in its place. “Baron Deathchew?”

Realizing he’d been duped, the gunslinger reeled, brandished his fire arm once more, and opened fire. Discharge after discharge, the hand canon sought to truly slay the shinobi, but to no avail. When the smoke cleared, Sasuke was behind the gunslinger, retrieving a bloody Kusanagi from an impaled neck and shoulder. Blood went everywhere. There was so much blood. Dropping his pistol, the bandit stumbled away, fell to his knees, and plopped over dead.

“Shit.” Sasuke wiped the blood from his blade as he spoke to himself, “Deathchew is still a problem?” The shinobi sheathed kusanagi once more, stepped over the dead bodies, and entered the courtyard. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed such a loose end like Baron Deathchew to slip his grasp. “That one is one me. I’ll have to right that wrong.”

The shinobi’s excursion through the courtyard was haunted by same nostalgia as before. Once a grand courtyard, in yesteryear, it had the ability to transport you from the dry and dull colors of the dunes, today, it was a ghost of its former self. The lavish and lush foliage had been replaced with dead weed and scorned brush fire, the fountains and pools now dry or empty, and even the statues seemed cracked and dismal. It pained Sasuke to see the kingdom this way, and though his bond to the city had never been particularly strong, he felt committed to setting things right here.  

The youth felt a vibration in his garments from his communicator, retrieved the device, and read the message. “Their best tracker, huh?” he pondered. The shinobi couldn’t help but grin as his thumbs sent a response. Things were falling into place and soon he would hold the legendary artefact, Kusanagi, once more!

“H-help...”a soft, barely audible voice interrupted the ninja’s thoughts. Coming from behind some dead shrubbery, it sounded again, “P-please…” The voice was feminine, weak, and timid, “I’m… please.” The shinobi approached the voice, cleared some rubbish, and located its owner. An attractive, dark skinned woman lay strung out in the dirt. Her garments were soaked in blood and her top was ripped, shredded, and revealing her breasts. “Please,” she gasped, “I’m dying.”  

An image of that bastard gunslinger flashed through the shinobi’s mind before Sasuke went to woman, knelt down, and scooped her head into his lap while covering her with his cloak. “I’m not a medic.” The ninja stammered, uncomfortable with the situation, feeling out of control, and powerless.

“Golden Cross,” the woman panted, collecting her energy to even muster the words, “they can help. T-“

“Shhh!” the ninja reassured her, stood, and swooped her into his arms, “I’ll take you.” Without sparing another moment, they were off, “Save your strength, you just point. Let me do the heavy lifting.” The woman nodded and wrapped herself closer to him, her exposed breasts pressing tight against his chest. Flustered, his cheeks became scarlet, his mind raced, and his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. Mighty Uchiha or not, he was still fourteen, and no match for boobs.

“There.” The woman said, indicating where to stop with her finger. Setting her down as gently as possible, the ninja ran into the sandstone building, and returned with a flock of people and a gurney.

“She’ll be alright, you were right to bring her here.” One of the attendants assured Sasuke, butting in to get a better hold on the woman, and pushing the ninja aside. “We can take it from here.”

The shinobi looked after the woman being hauled off inside and started after her when a booming voice, coming from the palace, stopped him dead in his tracks. “People of Nippur!” the voice thundered. Sasuke could tell that voice from anywhere, “I, your rightful King, Gilgamesh have finally returned.” With that the ninja became a blazing blur of cobalt, streaking back towards the palace.

The boys were back in town.

[Kuzuru]

Over the course of several hours Kuzuru had adopted a deep and profound hatred of sand. Unable to recover one hundred percent of the omnilium from his buggy he was relegated to walking. Sure the demon had spent some time summoning an appropriate set of clothing and provisions for this sandy hell, but they paled in comparison to a self-guided 4-wheeler. However it wasn’t the weather that got to him the most. No, it was the pure undiluted boredom that this sea of sand brought. No stimulation beyond heat and sand existed in this barren world of dehydration, and it absolutely sickened him.

Eventually the haggard demon reached a settlement that looked worse than he did. Nippur, stood as a tormented shell of its former glory. Kuzuru had never been there, but his binging of Dataverse videos had given him a fleeting familiarity of the locale. How many nights had he spent staying up late and watching the few videos that chronicled the city’s siege. His eyes scanned the exterior walls, or what was left of them, and a smile played across his lips. It was perhaps one of the greatest disappointments of the demon’s life. He had missed one of the greatest battles he had ever seen and had to live vicariously through grainy dataverse videos. Still, it was in the past and he was here to forge a new future.

As he walked through the decaying city he would stop every now and again to simply observe and listen. Hushed voices echoed off the walls and he could see the shadows of vagrants hiding in hovels. Were they scared, or were they plotting something? Kuzuru welcomed any assault, but having to keep his guard up against rats and scoundrels proved to be tiring. He removed the cloth wraps that were draped around his head. Perhaps his notoriety would serve as a better deterrent. His red-tinged eyes pierced through the darkness, skewering any would-be assailant with dread.

“Go ahead and try to mug me,” Kuzuru declared openly, “I’ve got nothing for you cockroaches except an untimely end.”

With his threat made he continued towards Nippur’s marketplace. Suddenly a scent that he was all too familiar with tickled his nostrils and sent a shiver down his spine. Sweet to the demon’s altered senses the heady stench of blood and death filled his nose. He inhaled deeply, savoring the saccharine aroma. Drawn as if by an otherwordly force he followed the scent and soon came upon a grisly scene. Several men, carved to pieces, laid scattered across a clearing. He knelt down next to the nearest corpse and pressed two fingers against its neck. Fresh and warm, maybe only an hour old. Kuzuru dragged a finger through the puddle of blood and tasted it. He shivered and exhaled.

Kuzuru’s inspection was cut short as a commanding voice boomed across the city. Gilgamesh’s voice resounded off every hard surface, projecting his declaration loud enough for every citizen of Nippur to hear. Intrigued by the king’s return Kuzuru began to walk towards the palace. A sizeable crowd had gathered before the golden king, their voices hushed as their monarch spoke. The demon scanned the crowd and a blur of blue caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat as the unmistakable form of Sasuke Uchiha zipped into an alleyway. Without waiting another moment Kuzuru broke into a sprint, tailing the young shinobi. The demon’s nose crinkled as he commited the ninja’s scent to memory. This bloodhound-like ability practically painted a line straight to Sasuke.

As Kuzuru rounded a corner he came face to face with the Uchiha. For only a moment, not even a fraction of a second, the two locked eyes. Kuzuru caught sight of steel and reacted immediately. The horrible screech of blade against blade carved through the king’s speech. Kusanagi bit into Kuzuru’s blades, cleaving completely through one before coming to a stop in the other. The demon struck forward, slipping a fist through Sasuke’s guard, nailing him in the chest with a purple burst of ki. The ninja was forced back and Kuzuru chose not to advance and instead held up his hands.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Kuzuru said, “slow down hotshot, I’m not here to fight you, I’m actually a big fan of your work, you know I tried to buy the flamethrower you used in D.A.? Unfortunately the collector that had it wanted a prettier penny than I was willing to give up.”

“Who are you?” Sasuke responded, “why were you following me?”

“Come now, boy wonder, I think you know the answer to that,” Kuzuru said, retracted his blades, and held out a hand, “name’s Kuzuru and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you Sasuke Uchiha.”

Sasuke eyed the hand warily.

Kuzuru smiled and said, “what? Your mommy tell you not to talk to strangers?”

[Sasuke Uchiha]

The sweltering warmth of the Dunes began to show mercy, as the day’s sky, drenched in hues of tangerine, slowly began its descent into twilight. Sinking into the horizon, sun rays dimly lit the commotion taking place on the streets of Nippur.

Is that the hand to the king?! Who is that other guy?! Oh no, is there to be another battle?! Embolden by the announcement of their king’s return, once frightened citizens had scurried from their refuge, only to now be suspended in fear. A gust of wind billowed through Nippur’s bazaar, parting demon from shinobi, and ruffled the strands of black hair, protruding from Sasuke’s headband. Scarlet eyes reconciled against the demon’s own, delving into their being, and uncovering a swirling construct of souls.  

“No one is stranger to an Uchiha eye,” the shinobi spoke, void of emotion, and to the sound of Kasunagi being sheathed, then lingered his glare on Kuzuru a moment longer, before giving the demon his back. With their fear relinquished, witnesses took to hushed whispers and gossip, as the ninja continued his trek toward the palace, only this time, at an elder’s pace, allowing for the mercenary to fall in next to him. “I see you completely, Kuzuru,” Sasuke said as the duo came upon the time forsaken courtyard, “or is it Renji? In either case, I hope your tracking is as quick as your tongue.”

"Oooh,” the mercenary quipped, “spooky little trick you've got there." Kuzuru studied his prospect inquisitively before adding, “Don't you worry your pretty little head, if it has a pulse I can find it."

The pair arrived outside the courtyard gates, just as the sun surrendered to the moon, upon the bloody scene Sasuke had painted with Kusanagi, just an hour or so ago. Seeing the fallen bandits he’d dispatched earlier, the shinobi thought of his original intention, to bait the head of the snake into coming to Nippur, but with Kuzuru here, there was no need for that. “That’s comforting,” the ninja said as he halted and faced the demon, “care to demonstrate?”

“Ordering me around like a big shot, eh?”  Kuzuru questioned with an ornery temperament and said, “Let me clarify the relationship between me and you.” The shinobi carried a blank expression as his new acquaintance advanced on him, coming face to face with the Uchiha. “Just because you defeated the Abyss, doesn’t make you better than me, and I don’t need you anymore than any other jackoff with a sword,” the demon sneered, “keep that attitude up and I’ll cut you down right now.”

“Say we test that?” the shinobi smirked, allowing his adolescence get the better of him, and placed a hand to his blade’s hilt. The successful blow to his chest, compliments of this demon, still fresh in his mind. With sharingan blessed eyes, Sasuke felt the murderous intent flare within Kuzuru, and prepared against it. Adrenaline surged, awareness heightened, and the hair on the back of Sasuke’s neck stood on end; the ninja couldn’t help but fall prey to the challenge Kuzuru represented.

“Gotcha,” the demon jeered, “lighten up a little, I was just kidding.” Showing the palms of his hands, the demon chuckled, “It’s my job and you’re the client.” Kuzuru’s homicidal aura had not dissipated, it simply wore a salesman’s smile. “I'd be more than happy to talk to dead people for you.”   

“Perfect,” Sasuke replied, exchanging his excited tone for a monotonous one, “I’d rather not return to the palace empty handed.”

The demon waved his arm and offered a slight bow, “Allow me, your grace.” He scoffed; his orneriness returned, “Anything for the great Sasuke Uchiha!”

“You’re too sweet on me.” The ninja smirked before asking, “What can you pull from these men here?” indicating to the slain men laying askew against the courtyard sandstone.  

“Oh, we’ve already been introduced,” the demon grinned, as he slapped a hand to Sasuke’s shoulder, then cooed, “but we can get better acquainted if you like.”

Sasuke remained unmoved, his eyes always calculating, “They said they belonged to the Deathchew clan.”

“Who’s that?” Kuzuru questioned as he moved in and crouched down for a closer look at the dead.

“Vermin.” the shinobi answered simply.

“What are you going to do when we find them?” The demon asked as he raised a dead man’s wrist for inspection, took in a deep breath, and came away all smiles.

Meticulously and exuberant, Sasuke found it odd, the way Kuzuru examined the bodies, but decided not to mention it.  “Something I should have taken care of a long time ago.”

“I see, well,” the demon said abruptly, plopped down on his haunches, and crossed his legs, “I’m going to need about twenty minutes unobstructed.” He then dipped his finger in the blood, tasted it, and closed his eyes while shivering. “Think you can manage that?”

Sure. That’s normal.

“Take as long as you need.” The shinobi said as he leaned against a gate post, and prepared to stand watch, “No one will disturb you.” However, as soon as the ninja finished the sentence, a booming voice from further inside the courtyard made him a liar.

“HOLY GILGAMESH,” the voice screamed, “IT’S SASUKE!!!

Kuzuru opened one of his closed eyes and used it to burn a hole through Sasuke. This time it was the ninja who revealed open palms as he spoke, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m on it.” The shinobi became a blur, advancing on the voice, and leaving a meditating demon behind.    

[Victor Wolfe]

As the assassin rolled on the floor laughing a guard approached the duo, sweat dripping from his brow splashing against the marble floors of the palace. A splash landing closer to Victor than he would have liked causing his eyes to dart to one of the devilishly sharp blades at his side. Erik sensing this seemed to move in a way to prevent his current boss from turning the Mesopotamian guard into a Turkish kebab.

"Lord Victor, Nobleman Erik, I have pleasing news from the city! It would seem that there is a new prime helping out the people of Nippur, I am not sure if they heard the message from our King and thought that perhaps someone as swift as yourself would be willing to aid us guards in the search?" The guard panted, clearly having run a long distance to deliver this news, and although the request was a little annoying, he had said it in enough of a bootlicker way to please Victor, who stood up, curious as to who this new Prime could be. 

"What was their appearance described as? I want as many details as we can get. " The Lord said with an authoritative tone, whilst Erik seemed to stifle a chuckle, something clearly amused him and Victor assumed it was something in the guard's mind.

"Well, this prime was described as feminine, capable of moving very quickly, very young, possibly a young teenager seemed to have a love for the colour blue and, actually that's it " The guard seemed to hold back some information causing Victor to put his hand on his chin.

"That could be any number of primes, are you sure that was all? Not sure if it is even worth my time, pretty sure they will see the giant palace on the hill and decide to come to us eventually" Victor motioned to sit back down as the guard bursted out.

"The witness did say that this particular prime had hair shaped like a duck behind, but that is impossible, right? I mean that must have been a hallucination brought on by trauma and the desert heat right?" The guard had a worried look on his face, the idea of embarrassing himself by saying something so asinine to some of the highest-ranking officials in Nippur making him scared for his future. 

"That's Sasuke! That description can only be our adorable little hand of the King! I will set out to meet with him immediately, even if I need to kick down every door in Nippur to find him, good work guardsman! " Victor jogged out of the palace followed by Erik, who probably wanted to pass on the information about his magic sword. 

As they descended the stairs leading to the palace they noticed a kid matching the description they had just been given. Victor felt a little disappointed that not one door had been kicked down, Erik seemed more relieved that they had found him quickly before his new boss started tearing up the town to find him.

Shouting to alert the prodigy of a ninja he rushed over like a spark of lightning toward the pair, Victor as usual started the conversation. "So Uchiha, it looks like you have returned to us once again. However, as much as I am sure you wish to rush back to our King I have some information that you might want to know and act on quickly, for as we all know info losses value as time goes on." Before the Ninja could get a word in Victor continued his monologue, his hands behind his back working Omnilium as his eyes shut. 

"You see I have a feeling I know what you are looking for, and my new employee here Noblemen Erik Vrell has some information that will be very beneficial to your search, or at least I hope it will otherwise my precious little minion here got all beat up for nothing, but before he hands over that information I have a gift, for I am sure that even for one as skilled as yourself this could turn into quite a perilous mission, and this may just come in more handy that you would think" Victor said as he held out his hands dropping a large syringe full of malignant purple sludge into the boys hand causing a horrified look from both Sasuke and Erik, followed by Victor as he looked at what he had actually placed in the boys hands, the banishment serum reflecting the shock as he snatched it back.

"Sorry! I got my syringes mixed up, wouldn't want you injecting yourself with that, only an idiot would do something like that though... please don't tell Gilgamesh I still have that" Victor pleaded as he dropped a new syringe into Sasukes hands, much smaller than the last able to fit in the palm of a hand and filled with silver glowing liquid.

"This should make up for it, as for what it is, when I was undergoing my training to become an assassin there was more than just some push ups and wall running, That is a hyper-concentrated version of what they put in me to give me my healing, should just about cover any injury about as quickly as it can be healed. Two problems though, because it is hyper-concentrated it will burn out very quickly, making it a one time use rather than the lifelong thing I have, and second healing that quickly might sting like a bitch, but I am sure a tough guy like yourself can handle that right? Now I do believe our psychic friend has a report that might interest you right Erik?" Victor mused

[Erik Vrell]

Erik tilted his head inquisitively at the guard’s description. Hair shaped like a duck’s behind? The more the psychic thought about it, the more apt the description seemed. Stifling a smile, Erik followed Victor through Nippur’s streets to meet the king’s hand. An excited feeling welled up in Erik’s chest as he saw Sasuke, reminiscing on the relatively short time he had spent with the Dante’s Abyss champion. Despite his excitement, Erik managed to suppress his emotions and keep his deadpan expression. 

Trying to ignore Victor’s banishment serum, and the ‘precious little minion comment’, Erik recalled his memories of the fight for the chidori blade. There was the man in the red mask, of course. And at least two men commanding the power of lightning. There was also Shay and the young girl he was fighting with. And then there was the man who moved in as darkness swept over Erik.

“There was a man who had your sword. I never caught his name, but I haven't heard anything of him since. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to best him in combat. Before I died, however, another prime moved to engage him. I can only assume that he killed the one with your sword and took it for himself.” 

“What did he look like?” Sasuke asked eagerly. “Do you know his name?”

“I don't know his name, and he was… Strange looking. He wore a suit of dark armour, but it seemed to be part of him?” Erik said uncertainly, only to receive an unimpressed look from Sasuke. “Here, let me show you instead.”

Erik’s eyes flashed with violet energy as he probed for Sasuke’s mind. The shinobi resisted for a moment, before allowing the psychic access to his psyche. Erik was careful not to touch any thoughts or memories of the King’s hand, instead focusing on playing back his last memories of the battle before death swept over him. 

Their minds linked by telepathy, Erik and Sasuke watched the psychic’s last moments through his eyes. A green beam sailed towards them, the red masked man’s mad laughter ringing in their ears. In a last act of defiance, psi flowed from their sleeves and solidified into a large bow in their hands. They drew the string back and levelled the bow at the man as an arrow formed in their hands. Muscles subtly tightened and adjusted as they mentally calculated the angle and speed of the shot. Satisfied, their fingers released the arrow, watching it fly towards the red masked man, cutting his laughter short. 

The beam hit hard, sending them rolling across the blood stained Nexus floor. Focusing on the red masked man, a mote of satisfaction bubbled up through the agony as the arrow hit home, knocking the man flat. Unfortunately, he was much quicker to rise than the wounded figure before him, but before he could deal a coup de grace, however, the one Erik tried to describe moved in to intercept him, rushing the red masked man before darkness clouded the observer’s vision.

“Go back.” Sasuke demanded through the telepathic link, suddenly tense. Erik sent a silent feeling of curiousity through the link, but obliged, running the memory back. 

“Stop.” The shinobi demanded as the armoured man came into view. Erik did as he was told, holding the image of the man in his mind’s eye, vividly remembering the sheen of his armour and the blazing light of the saber projecting from his wrist.

“Colonel…” Sasuke muttered, eliciting another curious note from Erik.

“Do you know him?” The psychic asked.

“You could say that…” The King’s hand said with a bitter note. “Thanks for showing me that. It's been helpful.”

Erik gave a small bow to the shinobi as he severed the psychic link. “Anytime, milord.” Satisfied that he had assisted Sasuke, Erik moved back to Victor’s side, ready to move out at his new boss’ order.

[Kuzuru]

Well now this was turning into quite the production now wasn’t it? Kuzuru smiled as he sat cross-legged in the center of Sasuke’s slaughter. It had been a long time since the demon had intentionally manipulated the latent powers of the Ouroboros Blade. Those that wielded that cursed blade blurred the thin line that seperated the living from the dead, and being bound to the weapon imparted this trait upon the demon. Kuzuru exhaled and the world melted away, replaced by nebulous sensations. Sasuke’s scent disappeared and in its stead was the acrid stench of corpses baked in the Nippurian sun.

Hundreds of dead souls washed over the demon, drowning him in a sea of death. There was no filter for the blade of lost souls, all were welcome in its binding embrace. Blood had been spilled in this city almost since its inception and it was all coming to a horrifying crescendo. Kuzuru’s body shivered and his breath became visible as if he was in the middle of a snowstorm. To someone with any sort of empathy this tempest of slaughtered beings would have torn them to shreds, but Kuzuru was a demon of violence and this was nothing more than a wonderful production for him. He was born in a world of death and bloodshed and the massacre at Nippur was nothing he hadn’t seen before. Instinctively he guided his mind away from the masses and narrowed his search down to those that had expired more recently. A spirit that wore the same face as the corpse next to Kuzuru came into vision, seemingly dragged into existence from thin air. Kuzuru smiled.

“There we go,” Kuzuru said, “for a moment there I thought we weren’t going to get a chance to chat.”

As the spirit became manifest so too did their immediate surroundings. Kuzuru stood several feet ahead of his own body, which was frozen in meditation. Everything had seemed to freeze in place, even specks of wind-blown sand perpetually hung in the air. The spirit, now with a fully realized body glanced around. As his eyes fell upon his bloated corpse and those of his kin he let out a yelp and fell backwards.

“What is this?” he cried, “what the hell is going on here?”

Kuzuru chuckled and said, “sorry to break it to ya bucko but you’re dead.”

“What?”

Kuzuru raised his voice and said, “sorry to break it to ya buck but you’re dead!”

The spirit’s luminous eyes flicked from Kuzuru to his own corpse and then back to Kuzuru.

“I… I can’t be dead” he whimpered, “this is some kind of trick, where is everyone?”

“No trick, just a good ol’ fashion seance,” the demon answered, “though I suppose you’ve never been on this end of one have you?”

The spirit stood and screamed, “help! Help! Someone get me outta here!”

“No one can hear you,” Kuzuru said, “so you might as well calm down and listen, ‘cause I’m your only ticket back to the land of the living.”
“What do you mean?” The spirit asked, trying hard to avert his eyes from his own corpse.

Kuzuru smiled and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and said, “I’m a prime dipshit, it’d be child’s play for me to summon you once I’m back in my body.”

“You can do that?”

The demon nodded and answered, “and all I need from you is a teeny tiny favor.”

“What would that be?”

“Glad you asked,” Kuzuru said and slung an arm around the apparition’s shoulder, “you just gotta tell me where Deathchew’s lair is, you tell me that and you get a second chance at life, hell I could even take you out for ice cream afterwards if you’re a good boy.”

There was a pause as the spirit seemed to take in everything that he was just told. Kuzuru scowled and glanced around. The threads that kept him firmly rooted in the spirit world were beginning to fray.

“Come on,” Kuzuru prodded, “you really can’t beat that deal, and don’t worry about Chewtoy coming back on you for revenge, I’m planning on killing him real good.”

“You’re gonna kill the boss?” the spirit asked, “I don’t know man, this whole thing seems like a trap.”

Kuzuru sighed and turned his back on the apparition. For a moment, and only a moment, he let the silence hang in the air.

“Look, we’ve got two, maybe three minutes to wrap this whole thing up,” Kuzuru said, “if you’re going to keep pussyfooting around I’ll just talk to one of your buds here, hopefully they’ll be more interested in not being a fucking ghost.”

“Okay, okay,” the spirit answered, “fine, but you gotta promise me you’ll bring me back if I do this.”

The demon grunted, “that’s the deal ain’t it? I may be a bastard, but I ain’t a liar.”

“You better not be.”

--

While the demon’s journey into the spirit realm had been a slow affair his return was a violent and sudden shock. In one swift moment the curtain was drawn upon his consultation and his consciousness was launched back into the world of the living. He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes. Blood rushed to his cheeks, flushing his face with an uncomfortable warmth. Kuzuru took a few moments to steady his shaking hands and rapid heartbeat. When he was good and ready he stood and dusted off the thin layer of sand that still clung to him. He smiled, the bandit had spilled the beans and he was one step closer to his end goal.

“Alright boy wonder,” Kuzuru called out, “I’ve got the location of dude’s hideout, you ready to go crack some heads?”

Sasuke thought for a moment and asked, “how did you convince him to give you the information?”

There was a subtle switch in Kuzuru’s jovial expression. His jowls twitched and his eyes drifted over the corpse of the man he had promised to resurrect. Mathaziel had always been a better liar than him, but damned if he didn’t feel proud about deceiving the spirit. Kuzuru thought for a moment, letting the Uchiha’s eyes wash over him. He couldn’t read the boy, but he had no interest in getting pressured into actually following through with his promise to the bandit. With a flourish the demon turned around and began to walk away.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said while wagging a finger, “a good magician doesn’t reveal his tricks now does he? Besides, does it really matter how I got it?”

“I suppose not,” the shinobi answered.

“That’s the spirit,” Kuzuru said, “come on, let’s get going, these guys are starting to stick and I’m getting bored.”

[Sasuke Uchiha]

Erik Vrell and Victor Wolfe. It had been a looong time since the ninja had shared their company, and the two primes were a sight for sore eyes to Sasuke, even if Victor’s face did look like a horse’s ass. However, before much reminiscing could be done, Victor dropped a fucking monologue on everyone.

“You sure talk more than I remember,” the ninja quipped, bearing a cheesy grin at Victor as he accepted the syringe, “I guess you’re good for something other than banishing enemies after all, huh?” The assassin caught eyes with the Dante’s Abyss Champion, the psychic grinned, and all three primes shared a laugh. Fondness reciprocated and the moment lingered, however brief it was, indicative to a mutual resonance. They had all come a long way, their reunion had been uncertain, and a feat, in and of itself.

“Alright,” the shinobi said as he turned to face Erik Vrell, “let’s have it.” Now a far-cry from the fledgling psychic Sasuke had laid eyes on, just two years ago. Erik’s eyes came alive, and revealed a power of their own.  A moment later the two primes’ psyches were linked, a replaying of Erik’s epic battle for the Chidori Blade in the Nexus was shown, and Colonel, a prime Sasuke had worked with in the past, was revealed to be Sasuke’s best lead to tracking down and locating the legendary Kusanagi!

“You two have done well, and New Babylon a great service.” The king’s hand began as Erik fell in line with Victor, “I’ll leave you with a message for his grace. When next he sees his hand, I will have shut down the raids on Nippur, and have not only have Deathchew’s head in hand, but Kusanagi as well.”

The shinobi accessed each of them with Sharingan blessed eyes for a moment, then turned about, giving them his back. “This time,” the ninja said, with his head turned over shoulder, and a farewell hand raised while departing, “try not to let our city fall apart while I’m gone.”


---


Acoustics sand-subdued; the muffled sounds of horse hooves pounding against the desert, followed by a gust of grit, left in the wake of a night rider, pursuing the sky’s further most North Star. Cloaked and veiled in Arabian garb, the rider tore through the verse, until it arrived upon the debris of a forgotten and forsaken civilization. Dismounting, the rider fastened their steed to a nearby hitching post, and proceeded to enter a grand and sprawling pyramid; the likes of which scrapped the belly of the verse’s heavens.

“How can this be true?!” Exclaimed the monstrous tyrant, with a fist slammed against his dinner table, and a mouthful of food barely contained. His maw glistened with salvia, blood, and the flesh of his latest kill while he spoke, “Everyone knows Gilgamesh is gone.”

“Yes, bb-baron, but I’ve seen him,” the night rider professed, now unveiled, and appearing timid under scrutiny, he continued, “with my own two eyes, I’ve seen him!”

“I’ve heard this tale before.” Deathchew spat as he proceeded to devour his meal, “I grow tired of hearing it.” The baron spoke between pieces of torn meat, “He was met with banishment at the hands of that pigman, Gannondorf.”

“I know, bu-” the messenger began, but was cut off by the baron.

“A fine day it was,” the baron proclaimed, “such a glorious day it is, when we find ourselves rid of two false kings, is it not?” His glare menacing and terrifying, it swallowed enemies whole; hungry hawk eyes surveyed and accessed the inner-depths of the night rider.

“Yes, my baron,” the rider, careful not to misstep, answered uneasily, “it is. A great day indeed.”

“And, once he was gone,” Deathchew continued, “blonde fucks began popping up all over the omni-forsaken place.” Grabbing hold of a charred piece of forearm, likely the spoils of a Nippur raid, the cannibal king gnawed at the human meat, as though it was the finest baby back ribs. “I grow tired of slaughtering false kings.”  

“This one is the real deal,” the rider spoke up, determined to be heard, for fear of the consequences not to be, “he raised an entire hospital with his bare hands. Gilgamesh has returned.”

Suddenly, if for only but a moment, there was a gleam in the baron’s eyes, then it passed, and the tyrant leaned forward over the table. “This,” the baron began, his severed limb now abandoned, but his saliva thick as ever, “you are certain of this? He is the genuine artifact?”

“Yes,” the spy nodded, “he has clawed out of the pits of the Underverse, and reclaimed his city. This is who you have been waiting for, this is the Gilgamesh of Legend, my baron.” Revealing his sightings, the rider felt proud, accomplished, and optimistic of his future. He regretted it immediately.

“LEGEND?!” The baron erupted, took to his feet while brandishing his favored steel, and drove it through the messenger’s chest, skewering him instantly. “The only fable worth telling in the Dunes,” the baron snarled as he twisted the blade, “is that of my legacy.”

Shocked, the night rider clenched hold of the baron’s garments in anguish until, several seconds later, he slumped over onto the dinner table, dead. Deathchew placed a thumb to a finger scan on the table, and a beat later, an intercom buzzed to life. “Giles, place the outposts on alert and ready our forces.”

“War, my baron?” the com responded.

Deathchew retrieved his blade from the dead messenger, used it to slice the head from the rider’s corpse, and raised it above his face with his tongue out, attempting to consume the falling bits and blood. His blood coated finger pushed the scan again, and the com ended with, “We’re always at war.”  


---


“Five?” Sasuke asked, once Kuzuru had finished the retelling of the dead man’s story. Under the pale of the moonlit sky, the pair of primes had made their way through the bazaar. They were now exiting the city of Nippur, into the biting cold of an Endless Dune’s arid night.

“That’s what the dead guy said,” the demon replied, while pointing out the separate directions ahead of them, “two outposts and a main hideout, five stories high.” He extended his arm to its length for a visual aid.

“I see,” the shinobi pondered quizzically, “one to the northeast, one to the northwest, and the main encampment is a pyramid, far north, into the deepest part of the dunes.” Sasuke looked to the Ashen Blade for confirmation; his cloak pulled tight, as the duo traversed the sands away from Nippur.

“Among the wreckage of a lost civilization.” Kuzuru elaborated, playing it up with theatrical emphasis, and a wave of his arm across the sky, displaying true showmanship. “Deathchew has resurrected a once condemned pyramid, and fashioned it to be his, unholiest of unholiest, sick-ass, evil lair.” The demon erupted in cachinnation. Cackles, snorts, and gleeful guffawing overcame Kuzuru as he used a hand to wipe a joyful tear from his eye, grinned, and said, “I think I might like this Deathchew guy.”

“I think,” the shinobi said, having continued his pace, leaving the demon behind, “I might have preferred it when dead men didn’t talk.” The ninja wanted to get this over with quickly, the baron’s execution was long overdue, and Sasuke’s extensive list of things to do grew more cumbersome by the day.

“Say what you will,” Kuzuru said as he caught up, closing the distance between them, “but the guy has a knack for grandeur.” Mischievous, the demon wore an ornery countenance as he prodded his companion, eager to rile a reaction.

“Well,” the shinobi grinned, “after I am done with him, you can ask him all about it.” Kuzurua raised an eyebrow and Sasuke didn’t disappoint, “From the afterlife that is.” They shared a laugh, picked up their pace, and left the kingdom of New Babylon behind them.

[Kuzuru]

“So,” Kuzuru spoke, “I’ve got an idea.”

The duo had been walking for the better part of an hour. Silver pinprick stars in the black curtain of night afforded a vague sense of direction to them. If the demon was the kind to enjoy a cool night under the stars this would’ve been paradise. That said Kuzuru was not the kind of demon to enjoy a night under the stars, and in fact he found them to be quite dull. Sasuke seemed to be relatively unphased by this slog, not that the demon could read his stoic expressions.

“Oh?” The shinobi said, taking the bait, “and what would that be?”

“Glad you asked,” Kuzuru said, “I’m sure it’d be a blast to go crack some heads with you I figure it might be a bit more exciting, and quicker, if we turn this into a competition.”

Sasuke thought for a moment and answered, “what did you have in mind?”

Kuzuru smiled, clapped his hands together, and answered, “one outpost each, you get the western one and I’ll go east, first one to reach the pyramid wins.”

Sasuke stopped walking and Kuzuru followed suit. Wind carried a gust of sand through them.

“Alright, I’m game,” the shinobi answered.

“Great,” Kuzuru answered, “one thing though.”

A sabre of blackened iron erupted from the demon’s forearm filling the air with a lethal hum. Starlight caught the blade’s edge and gave it a sinister gleam. The demon’s grin hid bisected behind the sword.

He paused for a moment to add dramatic flair before continuing, “you better not take too long or you might miss out on playtime with Mr. Deathchew, I tend to get a bit antsy when I have to wait for people.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed and he responded, “then you’ve got nothing to worry about, I won’t lose.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kuzuru said, “I’m starting to like you, Uchiha.”

--

Mauritius groaned. His perch atop the outpost’s walls was underpinned by the jovial chattering of his peers. Lit by several lanterns they were in the midst of a raucous card game, a card game that Mauritius had lost every last bit of money playing. His stomach grumbled. He didn’t even have enough left to pay for an extra portion of food from the quartermaster. To top it all off he didn’t even have enough cash to payout his loss and was forced to cover Davie’s watch to make up for the difference. Mauritius sighed. The dejected bandit raised a pair of night vision binoculars to his eyes and glassed the horizon. His eyebrows scrunched in response and he leaned forward off his lawn chair.

“Hey Davie!” He shouted, not bothering to lower the binocs.

There was no reply, the bastard was pretending not to hear him. Mauritius lowered the binoculars and looked over his shoulder. Davie was still at the poker table, apparently deep in thought with his next move. Several skags and other scumbags buzzed around the table, no doubt waiting for their chance to be dealt in.

“Davie!” Mauritius shouted again.

Davie set his cards face down, stood up with a groan, and said, “I fold… y’all are lucky Mar can’t shit without someone holding his hand, them were some killer cards.”

A lady with a metal plate bolted to her forehead scoffed and said, “whatever Davie, you had nothing.”

“You’re just jealous I whipped you last time, Dana,” Davie pointed at his stack of chips and added, “now don’t anyone go touchin’ these with their dirty dick beaters or I’ll cut ‘em off.”

With his threat stated the heavyset bandit sauntered over to the outpost’s wall and began to climb the ramshackle ladder.

“Whaddya want?” Davie asked as he reached the top.

“We got one,” he said and passed the glasses.

“So? Just plug the bastard and we’ll get him in the morning,” he answered and pushed the binoculars away.

“Just take a look,” Mar said, “doesn’t he look familiar or something.”

Davie grunted and reluctantly took a peek at the distant figure. The man approached alone and apparently unarmed. It was hard to discern any fine detail through the verdant scope of night vision, but he appeared to be ill-dressed for the desert. He wore a tank top with the word “FIGHT” emblazoned vertically across its center. Dark hair, most likely black, sat atop his head slicked back reminiscent to that of a 1950’s greaser. Most striking of all were his eyes, even through the low light filter they had a piercing gaze that made Davie shiver. The bandit studied the stranger’s face for a moment. Mauritius was right the man did look familiar, but where had he seen --

Davie snapped his finger and exclaimed, “that’s the bastard that had a thousand O.M. bounty of his head, Kuzulu I think his name was.”

“One-thousand O.M. what’d he do for that kinda price?” Mauritius asked.

Davie shrugged and said, “not sure, some Coruscant broad put it on him, the boss was planning on taking him out for the money, but the bounty was closed out not too long after it went live.”

“Uh-huh,” Mauritius said, “so what’s he doing all the way out here?”

“Dunno.”

A round of particularly rowdy cheering signalled an exciting hand of Texas Hold ‘Em.

Mauritius scowled and asked, “so what should we do?”

“Put a hole in his head and be done with it,” Davie answered as he sparked up, “he ain’t worth anything anymore so just pop him and we’ll strip the corpse in the morning.”

Mauritius nodded and pulled his chair closer to the rampart’s edge. He rested the barrel of his rifle between a notch in the sheet metal. Exhaling he pressed his cheek against the stock and activated the night vision scope with the flick of a switch. It took him a few seconds to zero in on the meandering figure. The rifle barked and kicked as he squeezed the trigger, temporarily silencing the festivities. The bullet rocketed across the sand-covered plains, reaching its mark in only a few seconds. There was a flash of light that was nothing more than a half-second spark in the sea of darkness. Davie held up the binoculars and chuckled.

“You missed,” he said.

“Bullshit,” Mauritius said, “there’s no way, I don’t miss.”

“Yeah, just like you don’t lose card games huh?”

“Fuck off,” Mauritius answered and raised the rifle again.

Another bark accompanied a muzzle flash and an ejected casing. Once again it took the bullet a few seconds to complete its journey and once again a momentary spark lit up the darkness. Davie’s jaw dropped. He slowly lowered the binoculars and mouthed ”What the fuck?” Mauritius pulled his eye away from the scope and glanced at his peer for confirmation. There was no doubt in either of their minds; the bullet had hit its mark dead center, but the demon did not stop. No, in fact, Kuzuru had practically broken into a dead sprint. Davie shook Mauritius’s shoulder and pointed at the distant blot on the horizon.

“Mar, shoot him again,” Davie commanded, “there’s no way he can just keep taking hits like that.”

Dutifully Mauritius fired again while Davie watched through the binocs. In the split second before impact Kuzuru swung his arm forward, revealing a series of black iron blades along his forearm. There was a spark as the bullet glanced off the blade’s edge and spiraled harmlessly into the sand behind him. It all happened at such a speed that Davie struggled to piece together what the hell had just happened. Despite this long-range assault Kuzuru failed to lose momentum and instead seemed to rush forward with even greater fervor. Another ineffective shot thundered across the wasteland.

“What’s going on up there Davie!?” someone shouted from below.

The card game had all but come to a complete stop as the staccato of Mar’s bolt-action filled the compound. Davie thumbed at a greasy whistle that hung from a cord around his thick neck. He inhaled and blew into the brass noisemaker. The whistle screech tore through the outpost, leaving a frenzy in its wake. War was upon them and the scrappy scumbags were more than ready to draw blood.

“We’re under attack!”

[Sasuke Uchiha]

The western encampment, the shinobi thought as he flanked its outer walls, comprised of three major fronts, it was more a fortress than an outpost. Standing atop a bank of sand, his free hand shielded his eyes from the glare of the, reluctant to rise, morning sun. A large, apocalyptic themed, iron-spiked dome sat adjacent to an elongated sandstone facility, all within a valley of sand, enclosed by three triangular watchtowers. Traveling through the night, the shinobi had come upon, scouted, and already analyzed the hideout, all while most its men had slept. 

“This will go easier if I can eliminate the towers without sounding any alarms,” Sasuke spoke aloud as he pondered from a crouched position, “but it won’t mean a damn if I can’t,” his face a reflection of thorough contemplation, “I’ll have a full raid on my hands then.” Painting his battle strategies into the sand by kunai-tip, the shinobi’s eyes absorbed all, “Maybe it’s finally time to use… ‘that’ Jutsu...” The ninja shifted on his haunches, uneasy, “but… that was for Itachi…” The Dante’s Abyss Champion stared at his palms intently, flexing his fingers into a fist several times, “Do I even have the chakra for that?.. The Omnilium?”

Before he could answer his own question, a bright fire in the distance lined his peripheral and caught his attention. Alarm bells rang throughout the shinobi’s psyche and he observed as the watchtower guards took notice as well. He had to act now, before they sounded any real alarm bells.

***

Against the grains of sand, just a few hundred yards off, a long, miserable trail of, what could loosely be classified as, human trafficking was now advancing on the Deathchew encampment after a long journey.

“Keep it moving!” shouted a Deathchew enslaver, while wrenching on the chains that bound his crew’s haul for the week: thee families of three, four, and six; two mining crews of thirteen and twelve; and a gang of, now unarmed, desperados numbering in the small teens. All secondaries, without a lick of any real omnilium between them now, whom all found themselves chained around the neck, shackled to one another, and helplessly subdued by the hands of a Deathchew raiding party, just a days ride from Carefore.

“Please, my wife,” one of the family men pleaded, halting the party in order to hold his dearest, ailing wife close in his arms, “She’s pregnant and we’ve been at this for days. She can’t take this! You’ll hurt the baby-”

“I’ll do much more if you don’t shut your mouth and get moving.” One of the slavers said from atop horseback, spurred his horse with a kick, and yanked the chain-gang forward, so abruptly, so violently, that several of the more feeble prisoners took a tumble. The enslavers laughed, they mocked; they enjoyed their captive’s suffering. “Get up and get moving,” the cannibal barked, staring down the more courageous looking men in the group, “or it’ll get worse for all of you, and we’ll eat the strongest first!”

“That’s right, inn’t it?” Another cannibal joined in, “The meat just taste better, after all!” All of Deathchew’s men shared in a cackle, and were generally delighted in all of their hooting and hollering that followed.

 “Henry, I’m okay.” It was the wife who spoke, attempting to stand, to shoulder the pain, for her family’s own sake.

“Momma?” their only son of eleven asked with concern in his voice.

“I can do it.” The wife said as she gave her husband and child a forced smile, “I can manage-” But suddenly, she couldn’t. She dropped to the ground and rolled onto her back screaming, “OH MY GOD!!!” Her husband rushed to her side, took her hand into his, and stared longingly into her eyes. “IT’S COMING! THE BABY IS COMING RIGHT NOW!” She yelped and screamed into the mourning.

“Enough of this!” Shouted one of the slavers, having had enough. He dismounted from his horse, unsheathed his dagger, and proceeded to stab the woman in the stomach several times. “There, now nothing is coming.”

“MOMMA?!” the boy shrieked in horror, "OHH MY GOD!!! MOMMA!!!" 

“HOW COULD YOU?!” The husband screamed and caught the slaver just under the eye, colliding hard, bare knuckles with soft, periorbital bone, and put the bastard on his ass. Diving on top of him, the husband sought to do more damage, “I’LL KILL YOU!!!”

Instantly the chain-gang was thrown several yards by the spurring of multiple horse riders, pacifying the threat in the husband, who now went to his fading wife’s side.

“Nope! Hell no,” the defeated cannibal spat as he scrambled to his feet, “we’re teaching this one a lesson!” Glaring at the husband, the slaver gave a wicked smile, signaled something to the other slavers with his hand as he released the husband from his bonds, and said, “Oh boy, you gonna wish you hadn’t done that.”

“Father?” the boy just stood there, distraught. His mother was fading fast.

Oblivious to his surroundings, the husband was sobbing into his dying wife’s bosom when the slavers yanked him to his feet, causing him to came away smeared in her blood.

“No,” the boy stammered, “no, no, NO!” He was screaming, “GET AWAY FROM HIM!!!”

Restraining the husband and fastening him to a crucifix they had prepared, the slavers began nailing the widower to it, by his wrists. His shrieks and howls of agony pierced the morning and wrought unease against the other prisoners, you could see it painted on their faces.

“FATHER!” the boy was in tears as he shrieked, “NO! PUT HIM DOWN!”

The wife and mother passed away in that moment.

Dousing the husband in gasoline before stringing him up high for all to see, the slavers lit a match, and set him on fire. Hysterical, the boy fell into violent convulsions, shrieking for his parents, before losing consciousness altogether.

***

Summoning forth and charging chakra into his feet, Sasuke began his ascent of the nearest tower. One chakra infused step after another, and at a blazing burst of speed, the ninja’s adhesively inclined feet made little work of the tower’s height, and slipped him into its corridors, undetected.

“What’s that?” a guard asked with an out stretched finger. Both the shinobi and his heart stopped for a moment, until he realized the guard’s finger was pointing in the direction of a fire, and not him, several miles off for all to see. Sasuke breathed and cursed himself as the other guards moved closer to their comrade’s side.

“Doesn’t matter.” Sasuke answered for them, announcing himself from behind the shadows, and the backs of their startled chainmail.

“What?” exclaimed a guard as he drew steel, “Who’re you?!”

Another shouted, “Sound the alarm!” while making a break to do just that.

“Sorry,” the shinobi said, intercepting his path in an instant, “I can’t let you do that.”

Surprised by the tremendous speed, the guard withdrew a step, and a second, before recuperating his courage. However, the delay was all the shinobi needed to pivot his stance, raise a knee to his chest, and execute a powerful side kick to the guard’s exposed chest, sending him headfirst, and clamoring into his allies.

“Five on one?” the shinobi smirked, transitioning from one martial arts stance to another, “I like these odds.”

“Good,” one of the cannibal guards snarled as he launched his assault forward, with his companions in tow, “we like to eat powerful meat!” The shinobi elegantly evaded the assault of not one, but three of the cannibal’s attacks, until a fourth slipped the defense, bounded through the air, and socked the ninja square in the mouth, “IT JUST TASTES BETTER!”

Knuckles banged into wood where should have been mouth, instead of blood, a plume of smoke materialized, and Sasuke appeared from behind them, on the opposite side of the tower. Using the ruse to his advantage, the ninja took a moment to concentrate his chakra. An aura of bright azure enveloped the shinobi, while he spoke in one language, and his hands in other, “EAT THIS!”

Expelling from the Uchiha’s mouth, a massive orb of roaring flame engulfed all but one, and to the sound of three dead bodies hitting the ground, Sasuke had already pinned the survivor down, literally, with Kusanagi, and through the stomach.  

“Hh-how did you get here?” the guard stammered through his last few breaths, “Doesn’t matter, you won’t get past the other towers.” Hacking up blood all the while and between each breath.

 “Who, them?” Sasuke smirked as he used a thumb to point out an explosion going off in the background. Behind him, the other watchtowers were already under attack. “Nah,” the shinobi said as he plunged Kusanagi further into the cannibal’s torso, “they have their own dying to do.” His youthful features, illuminated by the carnage, were to be the last things embedded into the guard’s mortal coil, just before he shed it.

[Kuzuru]

It didn’t take long for the demon to reach the encampments walls. As he ran four curved blades sprouted from his body, one on each hand and one on each foot. Conserving his momentum he leaped and clung to the walls using his blades. Like a hellish gecko Kuzuru scale the wall with blinding speed, launching himself over the ramparts as he reached the top. In one swift motion he lopped Davie’s head off clean at the neck. Mauritius yelped and fired a shot at the threat. A thunderous cacophony filled the air as Kuzuru deflected the shot. A flash of black steel flourished in front of Mauritius and blood erupted from his arms. He screamed as his limbs were carved to pieces. Kuzuru planted a boot in his chest and kicked him aside.

Like a colony of bees Deathchew’s minions worked themselves into a frenzy. Warcries tore through the encampment as the cannibals gathered their weapons and prepared themselves for the invader. Kuzuru stood at the edge of the walls and surveyed the chaos before him. Some of the more prepared misanthropes brandished makeshift machetes and other crude weapons. They jeered at him, sticking out their tongues and howling madly. Kuzuru smiled. A semi-circle of bandits had formed around the remains of the card table. Their necks craned up towards the ramparts, ready for the prime to make his next move.

“Come on,” Kuzuru shouted, “you all look like a bunch of amateurs.”

“We’re gonna eat you alive,” a woman with a plate bolted onto her skull shouted back.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I think you’ll find me a bit too tough,” Kuzuru answered.

The demon reared back his head and inhaled deeply. His chest shuddered and began to swell to inhuman proportions. After a few seconds, once his chest was nice and swollen, he exhaled forcefully. A shotgun-like blast of black iron spikes erupted from his mouth. These metallic quills tore through the air, slamming against the dense pack of bandits. Kuzuru leaped off the walls and landed in the center of the cannibals. There was no moment of rest or recovery afforded to them as the demon charged headlong into the thick of them. Violence of action was a doctrine that Kuzuru believed wholeheartedly in. Ribbons of blood and viscera flew into the air like macabre fireworks as the demon carved his way through swathes of poorly trained savages.

All told it took Kuzuru only an hour or so to slaughter the majority of Deathchew’s cannibals. Corpses littered the encampment and murals of blood were painted across its walls. Kuzuru stood at the center of this carnage, panting and thoroughly satisfied. Lacerations covered his body and blood dribbled from several buckshot wounds. His back ached, one of the bastards had gotten lucky and nailed him with a lead pipe. Now that the main chunk of fighting was over all that remained was cleanup. Kuzuru wandered through the vaguely defined streets, keeping his eyes out for anyone slippery enough to still be alive.

“Help,” a voice cried out, “please help us!”

Kuzuru raised an eyebrow and meandered towards the distraught voice. Rows of cages upon cages filled with starving people cried out to the approaching demon. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. Mental arithmetics counted at least several dozen prisoners. One of the prisoners, a young man, reached through the bars and pawed at Kuzuru’s blood-stained shirt.

“Help us please,” he pleaded with the demon, “they’re cannibals mister, they’ll eat us.”

Kuzuru frowned.

“Please, let us out,” he cried.

Kuzuru studied the wraith imprisoned before him. All of them were skin and bones with not an ounce of fast between them. How Deathchew cannibals thought they would make good meals was beyond him. The demon grabbed the man’s wrist and felt the fragile toothpicks he called bones.

“Please.”

Kuzuru pushed the grabbing hand away and shook his head, “nah, I’m good.”

“W-what?”

Kuzuru leaned in close and flicked a bar of the cage, he asked the man, “why would I release you?”

Confusion gripped the beleaguered man’s face and he stuttered, “but-but we’ll die.”

“So? You were taken here against your will were you not?” Kuzuru asked.

The man paused for a moment and said, “they killed my wife and they threatened to kill my boy if I didn’t come.”

Kuzuru chuckled and shrugged, “well, buddy, you probably should’ve fought harder, it isn’t my fault you let a bunch of mongoloids kill your lady.”

“No!” the man screamed and pulled at the bars of his cage, “I didn’t let them do anything! There was at least a dozen of the bastards! Let us out!”

Kuzuru stuck his face up close to the bars and whispered, “no, you could’ve died a warrior and at least given your wife’s death some meaning, instead you chose to be a coward and die as a prisoner. In other words, jackoff, your the kind of person that I loathe. I’d gut you and your yellow-bellied friends, but I think letting you starve to death would save me some effort.”

“You monster!” he screamed and rattled the cage, “don’t walk away! DON’T LEAVE US HERE.”

Kuzuru limp-wristed a goodbye wave and said, “ciao~”

There was nothing more sweet to the demon’s ears than the anguished cries of weaklings. He continued his hunt, glad that he had left the fortress that day.

[Sasuke Uchiha]

More dead cannibals. Lurking from the shadows, Uchiha eyes saw their demise before it came.  

Once more, the youthful form of Sasuke Uchiha appeared to defy the laws of physics. He had remained upright as he overcame the walls of yet, another watchtower, getting the drop on yet, another set of guards. Bounding through the air with one knee held high, the ninja soared overhead, closing the distance on the tower’s guards, and unsheathed the threat in Kusanagi.

An impressive feat. Most of his targets never even saw it coming, and the one that did, only managed to scream, prior to its culmination. “LOOK OUT!” he shouted, but it was all for naught. With dedicated precision, the ninja had already capitalized on the momentum afforded to him, performed a summersault, and executed a devastating heel kick.

WHAM!

The force of the impact billowed out gusts of sand in all directions. Heel clobbered cranium, forehead shattered floorstone, and Sasuke’s foe became incapacitated immediately, slumping over into a permanent coma.

“Only four of you?” the shinobi complained as his feet found the sandstone under them. He looked to his unconscious victim and corrected himself, “Three of you, now.”  Explosive in his movements, the ninja wasted little time in following up on his attack. He pounced on his prey, burst forward with his blade at the ready, and forged their respect for Kusanagi in blood. Slashing, stabbing, and hacking, he only clashed momentarily, before inevitably finding flesh. Sasuke’s swordsmanship was a work of beautiful calligraphy, depicted through a collection of lacerations, and could obviously fell much greater foes than the likes of these. Two more bodies hit the sands with a thud, and shinobi sighed, unimpressed, “How disappointing.”

“You sniveling brat!” the last cannibal bellowed as he brandished a six shooter and reeled, discharging several rounds. “I’m gonna eat you alive, boy!” the cannibal shrieked between revolver blasts. Gun residue and smoke filled the shinobi’s nostrils, while he weaved through bullets and over a staircase, until finally, he sank Kusanagi into his opponent’s chest.

“Bb-but, but how?!” Gasping, the bandit hacked up blood and made gurgling sounds in place of speech, before he managed to ask, “How did you get past the other towers?!”

The Dante’s Abyss champion said nothing, he simply looked, forlorn, to the cacophony of explosions going off in the foreground. Finally he smiled. It was genuine, thoughtful, and came followed by a name, “Naruto…”

“What?” the cannibal slurred his words, coated in blood, “The f*ck’s a Naruto?”

“Nothing.” Sasuke told the dying cannibal, as he knelt closer to him, and gave Kusanagi a twist, inciting an agony-stricken howl, along with the departing of the cannibal’s last breath. “A trick I leaned from an old friend.” the shinobi said, more to himself.

***

“Who’re you?!”

“Doesn’t matter” the shinobi smirked, experiencing deja vu for the second time today, as he slapped the final paper bomb, in a succession of multiple, to another guard’s chest. He then slammed his elbow into an advancing bandit, flipped one off his back, and retreated to the air, defenestrating himself from the tower.
The cannibals rushed to the tower’s edge, hoping to witness the shinobi’s freefall to a welcoming death below, but caught the sight of him giving a wink, and the middle finger instead. All of this, just before he dispersed into a plume of smoke, and the bandits became engulfed in a horrific explosion.   
 

***

“Go check it out.”

Having finally reached the outpost, the horseback convoy, of slaver and enslaved, found the west tower unmanned on arrival. Weary of the omen it represented, the chain-gang was brought to an abrupt halt, and two slavers were sent into the tower for further inspection. The remainder slavers strengthened their supervision of the prisoners and awaited response from outside the gates.

“What’s going on?” a confused slave turned to another.

“Something’s not right.” a different slave interjected.

 A slaver, who obviously fashioned himself a leader among the cannibals, took charge and started barking orders, “Draw your weapons, men, and stay alert!” He stopped to survey the faces among the slaves before continuing. “And if we come under attack,” he announced with a devious countenance, “slaughter the livestock first.”

“Livestock?!” a slave exclaimed, as murmurs, despair, and a quiet alarm broke out amongst the slaves, but in truth, that only proved to rile the slavers. Fiendish and repugnant, the cannibals seemed to enjoy their captives fear, as though fear was some sort of delicacy, a disgusting meat tenderizer and/or preferred seasoning…

A beat later the cannibal scouts had returned from the tower, they were now talking amongst themselves and to the other cannibals, just out of earshot of the slaves. “It’s as we feared,” one slaver reported, “all dead up there and it’s a bloody mess.”

“Aye,” the other cannibal scout interjected, “made me hungry.” He kept a carnivore’s watchful eye on their haul of secondaries as he spoke. “And, you can bet the other towers are in the same shape.”

“Where is everyone?” a slaver asked in response. Concern, and perhaps even fear, laced the cannibal’s voice as he spoke.

“I killed them.”

Everyone was startled, slaver and slave alike, all jumped at the sound of a foreign voice. It was Sasuke Uchiha who spoke, and he wasn’t finished, “All of them,” the shinobi began, “they’re all dead now. Awake or not. I killed them all. There’s no moral high ground in the slaying of waking cannibals verses sleeping ones.” He paused and looked a slaver dead in the eye, “Vermin’s vermin.”

“You killed our men?!” the lead slaver demanded, relentless for answers from Sasuke, “And while they were F*CKING SLEEPIING?!?!”

“You aren’t too smart, are you?” the ninja scoffed, heeding no never-mind to cannibal’s attempts at intimidation, “Isn’t that what I just told you, Captain Obvious?” He then delighted in proceeding with a retelling, of the slaughtering he did to the cannibal’s sleeping comrades. How he had slit the throats of countless, while they had laid asleep in their bunks. There were so many of them, a few had even woke and given him trouble. Truth be told, he didn’t think he was going to finish before the enslavers arrived, but he was, oh so happy to be wrong about that.

“You’re lying.” the captain slaver spat, “No way just one little brat did all that, not without help!”

“I had help.” the shinobi grinned.

***

 “Sadow Clone Jutsu!” Sasuke had previously commanded, echoed visually by the shinobi’s hand signs, and at a mad dash towards the encampment. Populating two clones, and delegating them each to a task, the three Sasukes each set to conquering a tower of their own.

***

“So, that’s how you got past the towers.” a cannibal snarled as he, and many like him, drew their respective weapon of choice.

“It’s no big deal, really.” the shinobi cooed whilst his eyes, ever calculating, began to drink in the environment, and aroused his heightened sense for battle, “It’s what you should expect of an Uchiha,” Sasuke smirked, then reconsidered, “from any of the Leaf...”

 “Lick of good it will do you now, boy.” a bandit screeched, lurching forward and headlong into battle with the shinobi, followed by his comrades. “LOOK AT US,” he boomed in between exchanges, “there’s over FIFTY OF US!!!”

Within the hour, they were all dead.

[Sasuke Uchiha]

Freedom came to the sound of shackles, collars, and chains, all being released by kunai-tip, and abandoned with a thud, covered by the sands of an Endless Dunes waning dawn. Thanks to the shinobi, the chain-gang’s long journey of misery was finally coming to the end, and to the captive, it was like waking from a nightmare.

“Thank you!” they cried. “You saved us!” they cheered. Their faces painted a relief of burden, a gleam of hope, and a profound appreciation and admiration that touched the shinobi. It truly was joyous, and Sasuke couldn’t help basking in the moment. An interesting turn of events, as he hadn’t the slightest interest in playing the hero, and he had no delusions of being one himself, but he had to admit: it felt good and he liked it.

“I can’t believe you did it!” they applauded.

 “That was spectacular. Who is he?” they asked.

“Papa, did you see him? He was all, 'unhand them!' Bam! Pop! Boom! Wham!”

“Yea, son, I saw. He was great, wasn’t he, boy.”

“How come you couldn’t do that, papa?”

“Hush boy.” Everyone laughed

“But, now where will we go?” It was then that a newly freed, mother of four, discovered a new fear: uncertainty. She gripped her younglings close, kept a strong face for her family, and looked to her beaten and battered husband. “Wherever it is, we’ll go together.” she said, squeezing her spouse’s hand.

“Where will I go?” asked a boy, lost in the crowd. Others followed suit with similar questions as the realization sank in. They were all displaced, had nowhere to go, and the pleasant environment was beginning to sour.

“Nippur.” Sasuke answered, his voice commanding, and an envy for any of the public speaking realm, “All of you,” the child reagent began, “listen well, there is refuge for you in Nippur.” He studied their faces, each and every one of them, and embodied strength as he spoke, for them, for their sanity, “If you seek the great city of Nippur, my jutsu shall escort you to safety, as far as I am able.” Palms open, the ninja’s body language embraced them, “The rich and poor alike, prime or secondary, it doesn’t matter. You need simply follow our laws, and the rightful King of the Dune shall see to your provisions, that they are fulfilled.”

“At what cost?” someone heckled from back of the crowd.

“You need simply acknowledge his grace,” Sasuke smiled, disarming their skepticism, “acknowledge his grace as the rightful king of the Dunes.”

“That it?” another voice called.

“His grace decrees it.” the shinobi replied simply. He then offered his arm as a guide, “Now, If you will just come this way.” The shinobi directed them while weaving hand signs, “Shadow Clone Jutsu!” and just like that, everyone had been freed, guarded by shadow clone, and were now undertaking the journey to Nippur. Well, almost everyone.

“That’s all great and everything,” a voice from behind Sasuke spoke, “but I know who you are.” When the ninja turned to see, it had been none other than one of the freed desperados, “You’re the Hand to the King in Nippur.” he said.

“You recognize me?” the shinobi responded surprised.

“Damn right!” the cowboy grinned, “You’re a Dante’s Abyss Champion. You’re Sasuke Uchiha!” The bandit all but asked for an autograph before continuing, “You’re going onward, aren’t you?” the cowboy paused for a moment before it hit him, “You’re going to kill Baron Deathchew, aren’t you?!!!”

“I am.” Sasuke answered simply.

“I knew it!” the desperado exclaimed. “Hot dog!” he said and grinned, “I knew it!” As the desperado went on, he was also keeping pace with the real Sasuke, and not the clone.

“You’re going the wrong way…” the shinobi blurted out.

 “I knew it,” the gunslinger still wore a shit eating grin as he ignored Sasuke’s deflection, “Ya know? I told the other prisoners as soon as I saw you! That’s him, I said!”

“Refuge is back that way…” Sasuke declared with a pointed finger.

“Look, I can help you.” the desperado rebutted, “I’m good with a pistol!”

“No.” Sasuke pressed.

“Hey, I can respect your looking out for me,” the cowboy was persistent, “but I’m going whether you like it or not. I got my own revenge to collect!”

“Sorry,” the shinobi said sympathetically, “but no. I can’t allow for that.”

“But, I can help!”

Sasuke had made up his mind, “No.”

“You’re not listening!” the cowboy shouted, “I know where Baron Deathchew’s main hideout is!”

“…” Sasuke was silent for moment. The outlaw grinned in response, but before anyone said anything more, they were both interrupted.

“Hello.” A voice came from behind the ninja, “Sasuke… is it?”

 Both the shinobi and the desperado turned to see a child, a young boy, standing there waiting patiently.

“I want to go with you.” the child declared.

“What?” Sasuke exclaimed, now flabbergasted, “No! What is this?! Refuge is back that way!” This was getting out of hand and fast.

“But sir,” the boy’s countenance was of an eerie clam, and it was clear he chose his words deliberately when he spoke, “I don’t seek refuge.”

They both turned to look at the kid again.

“What I seek is vengeance.”

“…”

***

“What’s with the kid?” Kuzuru asked with his arms folded behind his head for shade, while accompanying Sasuke in the rear of their new traveling party of four.

“It’s a looong story.” the shinobi gave a deep sigh, passively communicating his frustrations.

The demon chuckled while thumbing at the cowboy, “And John Wayne over there?”  

Sasuke grinned at Kuzuru. “Says he knows the main hideout,” the shinobi shrugged, “inside and out.”

“Okay, but,” the demon objected with a raised finger, “I thought that was why we talked to the dead guy?”

“Yea, it was,” Sasuke conceded, “but this guy’s alive.”

“Oh,” the demon grinned, “so, in case the first one was lying, we can torture this one.”

Sasuke almost choked on a chuckle, “I did not say that.” He laughed.

“No,” the demon’s grin expanded, “but you didn’t deny it either.” Kuzuru prodded a laugh out of the shinobi again and continued, “Also, none of this explains the kid.”

“No it doesn’t.” Sasuke conceded again.

“Okay, I’ll let it slide,” Kuzuru teased, “this time only, but sooner or later you’re going to have to tell me.”

“Okay,” the shinobi said, “I can live with that.” In that moment, the shinobi was grateful for Kuzuru. The demon had eliminated an outpost all of his own, so Sasuke didn’t have to, and, whether the shinobi wanted to admit it or not, he was actually pretty good company.

[Sasuke Uchiha]

As the cool dawn relinquished its hold on the Dunes, a sweltering warmth of the afternoon took its place, and Sasuke’s raiding party had finally traversed into the Baron’s territory. The transition into the territory was easily discernable, and quite honestly, gave the shinobi’s stomach a lurch. In fact, all but Kuzuru were disgusted at the sight, for row after row, numerous corpses lined the horizon, hung crucified and flayed upon the crosses they were nailed to.

The calm and collected child refugee of before was gone, replaced now, by a boy on his knees, violently puking into the sands. Sasuke placed a hand to the boy’s back to comfort him, and rubbed against the violent waves of dry heaving. The shinobi then looked up from the boy, to the rest of the party, and asked, “What do you think it means?”

 Gleeful, Kuzuru didn’t answer. He was too enthralled by the gore depicted before them, and it gave the shinobi pause for thought about the mercenary’s character. Should I be worried about this guy? Sasuke thought.  

“Don’t fuck with the Deathchew clan.” the desperado answered, “Baron Deathchew. Enemies of his regime get this kind of treatment.”

“What a hospitable guy…” Kuzuru snickered.

“We knew of him from his imperial mining days. He’s one of the original secondaries from that era, so the info we have on him is pretty old, it’d have to be,” the cowboy considered, “but everywhere he’s been, he’s left a trail of blood and carnage in his wake.”

 “Reeeaaally warming up to this guy…” the demon joked.

“Kuzuru!” the shinobi hissed.

 “Quinn Bonaparte, aka Baron Deathchew.” Ignoring Kuzuru, the cowboy continued his story. “Ex-omnilium miner from the eastern quadrant. Quit working after the day his wife got raped and killed by his own foreman.” the cowboy paused long enough to remove a cigarette from its pack, placed it to his lips, and give his lighter a flick. “Shit story really,” he said as he took a long drag, “but the baron got his revenge, and he’s been on a war path ever since.” 

The cowboy tipped his hat down to shield his eyes from the sun, and with a lit cigarette clung to his lip, Sasuke couldn’t help but think he looked cool. He looked like what Town With No Name would look like, as a person, the shinobi thought, before shaking it from his mind.

“Fine by me,” Sasuke interjected, “if he wants a war, then a war is what he’ll get.”

“Good attitude. Keep that,” the cowboy insisted, “you’ll need it. Legend says, he feminized that foreman with his own blaster, took over his business, and never looked back.”

“A blaster?” Kuzuru interrupted, “What’s so scary about that?” The demon scoffed, “Any punk off the street can use one of those. It takes real skill to do what we do.” The demon indicated to the shinobi and himself. Sasuke joined in on the chuckle that followed before correcting himself, but the cowboy never broke character.

“Craziest part, I say the damnedest part of all of this...” the gunslinger paused to eye both the demon and shinobi closely, “they say his blaster got the better of the Judge. That’s what’s crazy, he won a showdown with him, and that’s how he escaped from the Empire.”

The pair of primes were quiet now and had stopped laughing. Who hadn’t heard of the Judge? The tales of his infamy were plastered all over the Dataverse. If this were true, it was indeed quite a feat.

“Anyone else, and I’d say it was bullshit,”

“-It is bullshit.” Kuzuru interrupted, just before departing from the cowboy’s tale, traveling further ahead of their pace.

“but not with Deathchew.” the gunslinger continued anyway, “His trademark is violence. Not so long ago, there were three primary gangs warring for control of the territory, the people, and the pyramid itself.”

Sasuke leaned in closer for better hearing. Unlike Kuzuru, Sasuke had been suckered into the grandeur of the tale. “There’s regular people living there too? Just trying to make a living?” the ninja asked.

“Aye, it’s like a settlement of sorts.” the outlaw answered.

“SEE,” the shinobi hollered up towards Kuzuru at the front of the pack, “the dead guy never said anything about that!” The demon barely responded, he simply kept his pace, and dismissed them with a wave of his arm, but after a few seconds, he did give them the middle finger as well. Sasuke laughed and the party trudged on.

“The Tusken Raiders,” the cowboy continued his story as they walked, “the Sons of Sand, and Sledge’s Bandit Crew, all gangs who use to have operations here. Then Deathchew arrived, took over from the top, and started making his way down. Nine months later he had control of everything, the pyramid and the few hundred square miles around it. These ‘warning signs’ came up shortly after.”

***

Within about an hour later, the party had discovered Deathchew’s pyramid, and were traveling through the settlement enclosed around it. Populated with mohawks, punk-leather, and red hair dye, the denizens here crossed off every alternative cliché from mascara and eyeliner, to tribal tattoos, and, of course, various body piercings.

“There’s people here…” Sasuke observed.

“I said there would be.” the outlaw said.

“Yea but,” Sasuke started.

“This is a lot of people…” Kuzuru finished.

“Yea. Exactly.” the ninja agreed.

“And the baron rules here with an iron fist,” the cowboy added, “unfortunately, freedom is not really a reality here.” The gunslinger paused for a moment, looked at the child refugee next to Sasuke, and said, "It's really not a place fit for children." 

“I'll handle that," the ninja answered, "he's in my charge."

"You're the royal hand."

"So, how does the baron get away with all of this?” Sasuke asked as they walked, avoiding the approaching vendors peddling their sh*tty looking wares.

The desperado sighed, “You know how often we get justice in this area?”

“We?” the shinobi arched an eye brow, “You’re from here, then?”

“Told you we couldn’t trust him.” Kuzuru snarled.

You know, Sasuke thought, If the demon didn’t have a problem with the him, he was certainly damn good at acting like he did. He then reprimanded the demon, “Kuzuru!”

“I was,” the outlaw explained, “tried to escape with my family. Didn’t succeed though, and well, you were there. You saw. I was chained up alone by the time you got to me, wasn’t I?” the cowboy was somber, whatever had happened, it obviously weighed heavy on his heart, “Like I said, we don’t get much justice out here.”

“Well,” Sasuke assured him, “you’re getting it now.”

“Good,” the bandit replied, “the people here are in sore need of it.”

After thirty minutes or so, the party had finally arrived at the pyramid’s entrance, and surprisingly enough, no one had stopped them, or even asked them about their business.

“This is quite something, all these people live under him?” the shinobi asked. “There’s almost as many people here as Nippur once housed.”

“More,” the cowboy corrected him, “each level is just as populated.”

“How does he manage that?” this time, it was the demon, Kuzuru, who asked.

“He provides them their basic needs…” the desperado gave it some thought for a minute, “and it’s safer in here than out here.”

"I guess.” the shinobi said, doubtful.

“No,” the cowboy pressed, “he makes certain of it, so long as his monthly sacrifices are met…”

“Savages.” this time Sasuke snarled.

“Who cares?!” Kuzuru whined as he advanced on the pyramid, and spun around with his arms extended, “Are we going in or what? Let’s go kill some f*cking cannibals!”

And so they did, they entered the giant, five storey encompassing pyramid, and immediately regretted it. As soon as they entered, the entrance barricaded itself, and to the alarming sound of all the exits slamming shut.

“What the…”

Buzzing over loud speaker, a commanding voice began to echo throughout every corridor of the pyramid. “Fort Deathchew,” the speaker sounded, “this is this is your baron speaking.”

“Shit” the cowboy cursed, “this isn’t good.”

“Relax” the shinobi ordered as he used his hand to call for silence. Kuzuru smirked, but obliged all the same.

 “Somewhere in the fort are two primes.” the voice continued overhead, “they’re accompanied by two secondaries and I want them all dead.” Sasuke looked to the young boy with them, and cursed himself for allowing his participation. The loud speaker continued, “Until I get what I want, the pyramid stays locked down. All clansmen, of every level, hunt these primes down. Everyone else clear the area and stay the f*ck out of our way until the killing stops.”

Kuzuru gave Sasuke an enticing smile. The action was about to start, he knew it, and he was clearly getting excited. Sasuke couldn’t help but feel it too, and wore a grin just as wide.

“This is our city!” the speaker declared. “Wherever you are, we’re gonna catch you, we’re gonna cook you, and we’re gonna EAT YOU!!!”

Kuzuru was laughing and grabbing his crotch. “Eat this d*ck.” he said, but the cowboy however, he seemed distraught, and in a foul mood.

 “If I hear of anyone helping these primes," Deathchew's voice threatened over loud speaker, "I will kill them, and eat the next generation of their family. As for the Primes, sit tight, or run, it makes no difference. You’re mine, you’re food, and you’re already dead.”

“I told you,  Sasuke,” the demon cooed, “if nothing else, this guy has pizazz!”

[Kuzuru]

Kuzuru grinned. This was Nirvana. Blood was in the air and it was just ripe for spilling. Kuzuru stepped ahead of his companion raising his arms as if he was bathing in the sun. Towering before him was the Baron’s pyramid, his casa de carnicería, and it was magnificent. Around him chaos whirled like a tempest. Deathchew’s ultimatum whipped these unwilling neophytes into a vicious fervor. Kill or be killed. Kuzuru’s smile grew wider. A good fight was ahead. These people were nothing extraordinary, but with one’s life on the line one was pushed to feats of greatness. A right and proper crucible, one that Kuzuru was more than happy to stoke the fires of.

“Alright Sasuke,” Kuzuru said, taking another step forward, “I’ll go carve up the big bad men, and you and Buffalo Bill over there can be on babysitting duty.”

“Wait!” Sasuke snapped, “we’re going together, I can’t have you jeopardizing our mission just because you want to go off and get yourself killed!”

Kuzuru frowned and let his arms drop, he turned around and took a few steps towards the shinobi.

“That’s funny,” the demon muttered, his voice just barely above a growl, “I’m pretty sure I don’t answer to you, so you and Doc Holliday go have fun being heros, I’m gonna go get myself killed.”

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed and he spat back, “weren’t you the one begging me to join your band of thugs? I don’t think I’m interested in joining anything lead by you.”

Kuzuru paused for a moment. His heart sank. All of this excitement had made him forget the whole reason he came to this place to begin with. He should’ve brought Mathaziel, the elder demon was so much better at this kind of thing. The demon huffed.

“Look, all I’m saying is, just let me do what I’m good at,” Kuzuru said, “and in case you haven’t noticed I ain’t good at working with oth--”

A spike of electricity shot up the demon’s spine. For a few moments he had dropped his guard and a few moments meant life or death in a warzone. His ears twitched at the *thwoomp* sound of a spring-loaded grenade launcher being fired. Time crawled to a stop as his brain tried to process the best course of action. It had came from behind him, in his blindspot, and without any sort of visual confirmation of its location he was left defenseless. A flash of steel sliced through the air as Sasuke stepped forward and drew his blade. Those telltale Uchiha eyes tracked the projectile and with an effortless swipe he bisected the explosive. Kuzuru shuddered as the now-inert payload tumbled into the sand beyond them.

“Plus,” Sasuke said, scanning the horizon, “you owe me one now.”

Kuzuru chuckled and spun around. Nearby the scuzzy grenadier was frantically trying to reload his makeshift weapon. Kuzuru’s eyes locked onto the poor soul and he began to stalk forwards.

“Alright, alright, you win,” Kuzuru muttered, “we’ll all hold hands and play nice with one another.”

To punctuate this the demon pounced forward, skewering the grenade-launching bandit. A spray of blood was launched overhead, covering Kuzuru with red specks. He chuckled and turned back to the trio behind him.

“Well,” he said, “we’re running out of daylight shinobi, let’s get crackin’”

“Right,” Sasuke responded.

--

By the time the quartet of liberators reached the entrance to Deathchew’s pyramid most of his underlings had responded ready for war. Along the way Kuzuru managed to have his fun cutting down a few stragglers, but it seemed the bulk of the bandit lord’s forces chose to entrench themselves within the ziggurat. Kuzuru groaned, he had been hoping for a battlefield not a bunker assault. At the mouth of this fortress stood a contingent of guards, or what loosely passed for guards. Where most kings carried a stoic force of elite guardians, Baron Deathchew seemed to instead surround himself with ravenous locusts. These savage protectors wore armor made of scrap metal and weapons cobbled together from random junk. Their demeanor was a frenzied bloodlust that brought them closer to rabid beasts than men.

Kuzuru’s eyes focused on the one man that seemed to lack this animalistic fervor. Their apparent leader stood head and shoulders above the rest with a long mop of greasy black hair. A battle scar bisected his right eye, turning it into a milky cloud-filled orb. In his hands he gripped a well-made longsword and the breastplate was far from the clishmaclaver rubbish worn by his peers. Kuzuru smiled and pointed at him.

“That one, you have to let me have that one,” Kuzuru said, “you guys can have everyone else, but I want that one.”

Sasuke nodded and motioned for the gunslinger and boy to follow his lead.

As they approached the howling madmen of Deathchew howled and screamed and scraped their cleavers together. Their efforts of intimidation seemed to only affect the boy, who lagged behind the shinobi and the gunslinger. Sasuke was trained better than that and the cowboy had grown desensitized to the lunatics in the Baron’s fold. Kuzuru threw his head back and let loose a howl himself, adding to the chorus of maniacs.

“You!” Kuzuru shouted and pointed at the apparent leader, “what’s your name!?”
The fallen knight spit on the ground and responded, “Tegan.”

“You know how to use that sword, Tegan?”

Tegan nodded.

Kuzuru smiled, brandished his blades, and said, “good, as much as I’d love to slice through your lackeys, it’s been a while since I’ve had a good duel, how about it?”

A faint smile teased the knight’s lips and he turned to the cannibals behind him, “this one is mine boys, you can have the rest, but if you lay a finger on this one I’ll rip your teeth out.”

Whether or not they understood him was not apparent, but with a snap of his fingers they charged forward. In response the cowboy raised his pistol and began firing into the approaching tide of bodies, while Sasuke readied his blade for the incoming onslaught. Kuzuru merely walked forward, allowing the tide of ravenous berserkers to wash over him. Perhaps it was a miracle or perhaps Tegan’s cruelty was known to be second only to the Baron’s, but whatever it was Kuzuru remained unmolested. Tegan raised his sword and widened his stance. Kuzuru scratched the back of his neck and yawned. Small cuts still covered his body and blood from at least twenty different people coated his clothing.

“Who are you?” Tegan asked.

“Name’s Kuzuru, lead guitarist for the Ashen Blades,” Kuzuru answered, “and before you ask, I don’t do birthday parties.”

“Cute.”

Kuzuru shrugged and replied, “yeah, I thought it was, so are we just going to keep talking or can we get this date started? I’ve kinda got a curfew.”

“You talk confidently, but you’re trembling,” Tegan noted, “are you scared?”

“No,” Kuzuru’s grin faded, “I’m trembling in anticipation.”

In response Tegan lurched forward, slicing downwards. Kuzuru raised his arms in response, catching the blade between the criss-cross of his own two blades. Were it not for the din of battle raging behind them the clash of their weapons would’ve been heard for miles. Tegan snarled and shoulder forward, slamming his weight into Kuzuru, forcing the demon to stumble backwards. Keeping his momentum Tegan lunged forward and thrusted his sword towards the demon’s gut. A glint of crimson caught Tegan’s attention and his eyes locked with Kuzuru’s. Something wasn’t right. It was a bait, this man was a prime and he had some unbelievable trump card that Tegan was blundering headfirst into. The knight willingly broke his attack and adopted a defensive posture. Kuzuru regained his balance and snickered.

“Something spook you?” the demon jeered.

Tegan grunted, but did not respond. Kuzuru retracted his blades and held out his hand, palm down. A length of black iron chain began to unspool from a slit in the demon’s palm. At the end of this chain was a cylindrical weight, that dropped to the ground with a thud. Once the chain was several feet long Kuzuru began to twirl it above his head. After a few moments the black chain became a blurry disc. Tegan rushed forward, dropping low and looking to skewer his opponent. Kuzuru grinned and threw his hand forward. The chain careened around in a wide out, connecting with the side of Tegan’s face. The weighted end spun around the knight, wrapping his head with several feet of iron. This all happened in a mere moment, but to the dumbstruck knight it seemed to take an eternity. As the weight whirled around the final time it found a temporary home inside the knight’s mouth. The horrible cracking noise of shattered teeth filled the air like popcorn popping. All of the knight’s momentum was forfeited as he stumbled forward, clawing at the blood-soaked chain.

A single curved blade erupted from Kuzuru’s free arm. Taking a few moments to stop and smell the proverbial flowers Kuzuru sauntered forward, reeling in his chain as he did. Tegan managed to free himself from the demon’s snare, but it was too late. Kuzuru was upon him, slipping his blade through a gap in Tegan’s armor present at the armpit. Tegan’s body cringed as the cold iron pierced his flesh and buried itself deep. The demon twisted his arm, making sure to mangle as many internal organ as possible. As the life slipped out of the knight’s body Kuzuru withdrew his blade and whispered into Tegan’s ear.

“You disappointed me.”

[Sasuke Uchiha]

A blight on this verse, once inside, Deathchew’s lair embodied the epitome of horrific fearmongering. As Sasuke’s fellowship advanced further into the stronghold, its interior décor grew more and more gruesome. Adorned in an amalgamation of torture and misery, the walls depicted what would happen to those who incurred the Baron’s wraith. Dying, bleeding, or wounded, the victims all hung from nightmarish machinery, wrought from conceptually, the worst imaginations of crucifixes, pulleys, and barbed iron wire.

With a majority of the civilians having retreated into the residential areas, the territory before them morphed into a battlefield, and everyone they encountered had either the intention of killing them, or eating them alive. Regardless, they pressed forward, and carved their way through the various ambushes and traps that awaited them. The pair of primes in Sasuke and Kuzuru did all the heavy lifting, as the gunslinger only offered marginal support, in the way of cover fire, and the kid was barely of any use at all.

They had cleared a bulk of the threat on level one when something caught the demon’s eye. “That one, you have to let me have that one,” Kuzuru said, “you guys can have everyone else, but I want that one.”

Sasuke obliged with a nod of his head.

“NO!” the cowboy screamed, from behind the fire of his revolver. “We should stick together!”

“It’s fine.” Sasuke shouted from over his shoulder, also advancing, and at a mad dash to meet the raging hordes. “No one dies here,” he declared as he bounded, headlong into the fray, “not while I stand!”

“Son of a b*tch!” the gunslinger cursed, reeling as he repetitively struck a free hand to the revolver’s hammer, and spurred the discharging of his firearm. “F*ckin’ primes!” he snarled, but neither of them heard him. The boy however, shot him a scowl, but that didn’t stop him from clinging to, and hiding from behind the safety of the desperado.

Smashing through a crowd with a right hook, the shinobi’s knuckles pulverized a bandit’s jaw, creating a cascade of teeth confetti, before the same pivot carried him further, and propelled the back of his elbow into the earhole of another. Trading brushes, paint, and canvas for jujitsu, taigetsu, and skumbags, the Uchiha dispensed a work of art, all the same. Veiled in the pivot’s charged momentum, the sequence culminated in a devastating tornado kick, smack-dab into the chest of an unsuspecting third cannibal. He probably paid the most, because, with a thunderous thwack, the kick’s impact shattered bone and caved sternum.

Two spins and three dispatched goons later, the shinobi found his feet with grace, exploded upright, and unleashed a back fist upon another advancing skumbag. The cannibal was only afforded a stager and a stumble before Sasuke lunged forward, ensnared the bandit in a clench, and delivered a succession of knee strikes to incapacitate him.   

Electric sensation captivated the hairs on Sasuke neck, Sharingan alarm bells rang throughout his psyche, and a combination of instincts and years of muscle memory seized control. Fluid in motion, the shinobi performed a ridiculous, double-gainer back flip, rescued himself from thrust of a cannibal’s claymore, and planted an explosive tag as they went by.

Above the havoc he created, the ninja weaved hand signs throughout his acrobatic feats, so that when the shinobi righted himself, a volley of hell fire expelled from his mouth and assailed his nearest remaining targets. By the time the shinobi’s sandaled feet touched down again, a spectacle of fire, explosion, and jutsu lit the foreground, animating the shinobi’s silhouette among the chaos.

“Wow!” the orphan gawked. Until then, the boy had been timid and looked deathly afraid, but now he was changed. Embolden, the boy retrieved the blaster he carried, and finally became useful. “He’s right, we can do this!” he declared as he began firing into the crowd.

“Don’t get cocky, kid.” the cowboy said from behind cover fire, while bucking into the masses without any general targeting.

“No!” Sasuke objected as he held the perimeter, brandishing Kusanagi to keep the hordes at bay, “Get cocky!” The ninja accessed his odds with calculating eyes of the Uchiha, as another group of man-eaters enclosed on him. “Kuzuru was wrong,” he said as the savages surrounded him, “I’m not here to babysit.” 

Charging forward with his fabled blade at the ready, Sasuke, and not the cannibals, initiated combat. “You wanted vengeance,” the shinobi screeched as he cleaved through their numbers, penetrated one through the chest, and surged upright to tear them asunder, “now is your chance!”

***

“Tegan is down.” a rat faced looking man, of lanky shape, informed his baron, over desk intercom, and waited patiently for his response.

“WHAT?!” the intercom screamed a response from the baron.
 
The subordinate hesitated a moment before answering with, “Well, he fell to a prime named Kuzuru…” he squeaked, full of reluctance showing in his voice, “down on level one.”

“That’s Gilgamesh’s reagent,” the com asked, “the Dante’s Abyss Champion, right?”

“Uhh,” the cannibal worker hesitated, afraid of the response, “no sir, I don’t think so, sir.”

 “WHAT?!”

There was silence for a moment and the subordinate looked panicked, sweating profusely.

“That’s impossible,” responded the intercom again, “Tegan is one of my stronger captains, along with Plum and Knotch.” The Baron’s voice was unhappy and it resonated through com-link, “God Damn it!”

The cannibal behind the screen jumped and hesitated once more, but finally replied with, “Well, Plum and Knotch are both still alive. In fact Plum is on his way to intercept the intruders now, and no one has detected Knotch so far.”

“Good,” the com flared with more lights and a response, “at least there is some good news. Any word on Giles?”

Placing a finger to the screen and using another to scroll with the mouse, the subordinate double checked to make sure they weren’t misspeaking when they replied with, “Nothing yet sir, no.”

“Keep looking,” the com answered simply, “I’d rather not have to kill these pest myself and he’s more than capable.”

“More than you sir?” the subordinate mindlessly blurted the question out without thinking and immediately regretted it after. They cursed themselves under their breath.

“Watch your tongue.” the com demanded, “Had we not been under siege, I might have killed you just now myself, for your insolence!"

“Yes sir,” the subordinate squealed and panicked, “Of course sir!”

“Surely, he is not,” the baron answered the ‘insolent’ question, even though it apparently upset him, “but he’s more than enough to handle these guys. Prime or not. If he shows, have him report to me right away.”

“Yes sir,” the grunt answered, “and until then?”

“Prepare my armor.”

***

With Tegan defeated, the clan’s morale suffered, and ascending from level one to level three was breeze in comparison. Advancing to the next tier, however, would prove to be more difficult, as the next encounter would cost the party more than they were prepared to give.

“I had hoped I would find a challenge here.” the demon complained as the group bounded a stair set. “It’s disappointing really,” he continued, “their generals, so far, have been trash. If I didn’t know any better-”

Before the demon could finish, he was interrupted, and took to the air to avoid an incoming blast. A sizzle of kinetic energy frayed the ends of his hair, as it whizzed past him, and collided with the wall to his adjacent. He avoided the explosion it caused, but was unprepared for the blur of purple that followed.

 One, two, three times, Kuzuru’s face was assailed with purple punches, forcing him onto his heels in retreat. By the time he regained his footing, the purple alien had already channeled a wealth of energy, extended their arms with palms open, and unleashed a coalescing beam of violet destruction upon the surprised demon.

 Alarmed, Sasuke released steel from its sheath, summoned the electric might of Chidori, and closed the distance in flash, to intercept the energy.

“Oh no you don’t!” the gunslinger spat as he grabbed ahold of his garments and gave a good tug, catching, not only the shinobi’s attention, but the ninja’s arm in his hand as well. With desperado clothes whipping through the air, the gunslinger had shed his cowboy guise to reveal a dwarf hunter, shouldered a rifle he had veiled away, and released its intentions on the ninja, at a point blank range.

Boom!

  Barrel to shoulder, Sasuke’s arm never stood a chance and the discharge ripped through his armpit, cleaving meat from bone. The shinobi and his separated arm dropped to the floor as the electric might of chidori faded, and the demon took the full brunt force of the Alien’s blast head on.  

Kaboom!

“Jesus, what took you so long?” the dwarf called to the alien. “They’ve already downed Tegan. We have to finish this NOW!!”

[Sasuke Uchiha]

The child refugee couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

A plume of smoke, a wooden log, and a cleverly crafted guise later, the shinobi emerges victorious. He saves his comrades, thwarts the villain, and wins the day. Or at least, that’s how it’s supposed to happen.

Kuzuru’s chest had been pierced straight through, leaving a walnut sized hole through his left pectoral muscle. To his credit though, the demon was already stirring, though at an elderly’s pace. The blast had obviously taken quite a toll on him

Bleeding profusely, Sasuke’s shoulder was a gruesome mess of mangled tendons, joints, and flesh. Clutching at the wound with his only remaining hand, the shinobi felt a tremendous agony and fought an internal battle to remain conscious. Pain the likes of which he had only ever experienced once, in that mad man’s blood bath, in Dante’s Abyss.

An image of the shinobi’s visage flashed in his mind: beaten and battered, bloodied and crippled, and with the shinobi’s headband of the leaf festooned to his brow as an eyepatch. Even then, he hadn’t quit. “Move, your ass.”

With knees trenched in a pool of his own blood, the shinobi stirred, reached for a slip of chakra paper, greeted his teeth from the pain, and managed to retrieve it. Displacing the pain, the shinobi focused. Concentrating, he charged a minute amount of chakra, crafted a diluted paper bomb, and placed it to his injury. “Move you piece of shit.” the shinobi grunted, “On your ass!”  

“Hey!” the dwarf shouted and mounted the rifle’s sights on Sasuke, “What do you think you are doing?!” but it was too late. The paper bomb ignited all the same, creating a moment of chaos, and cauterizing the ninja’s wound in one fell blast.

“NOW!” the Uchiha screamed as he rose from the smoke with Kusanagi equipped in his only hand. A beat later, Steel clashed with flesh and bone, and the hunter became the hunted, as well as headless.

“Look out!” the boy shouted, alerting of a surprise attack, but by the time Sasuke turned around, the advancing alien had already lost his head.

 Literally. When alien’s lifeless body fell, the image of Kuzuru was standing in his place. “Bastard,” the demon said, thrusting his finger into the wound so that it protruded on the other side, “look at this shit. Got me straight through.”

“Yea, well,” the shinobi said as he placed Kusangi to the ground to steady himself, “I’d give you a hand but…”

It's trash, but I'm just trying to make Dante's Abyss. Sorry to the reader. =/

[Kuzuru]

Walking into the Baron’s throne room sent a flutter through Kuzuru’s chest. It was a long rectangular room with a row of pillars on either side of an aisle. Trophies of war lined the walls, everything from weapons to skulls to bejeweled trinkets hung as testaments to the Baron’s conquest. At the heart of this hall, atop a throne of gold and iron, sat the Baron himself. Even in this relaxed position one could see that Deathchew was easily twice the size of most men. His hair was a tangled mess of greasy black hair that rolled across his shoulders like tentacles. Clad in armor that was adorned with skulls and other baubles the warlord was ready for a fight. Resting against the arm of his throne sat a mace that was far too large and heavy for an average human to carry let alone wield; and yet, the Baron grunted, stood, and heaved the weapon onto his shoulder as if it was as light as air.

“You’ve caused me a lot of trouble, primes” Deathchew spoke, his voice a barely contained inferno, “however, that will just make you taste all the more tender.”

Kuzuru started to clap as he began to walk towards the goliath that stood before him.

“Bravo, bravo, Mr. Chew,” the demon said, “I’ve gotta say I’m real impressed with your flair, not many people can build an empire on the backs of inbred cannibals.”

The Baron grunted and began to saunter forward. As he walked his massive stature became all the more apparent. Between Kuzuru, Sasuke (sans arm), and the orphan they probably weighed about as much as Deathchew did. Kuzuru sprouted his full complement of swords, two on each arm. Sasuke drew Kusanagi and shifted off to the side of his demonic companion. Behind the two heros stood the orphan, frightened by the menace that stood before them.

“None of you have a lot of meat on your bones,hardly anything I’d call a meal anyways, but,” Death chew lamented and pointed a finger at the orphan, “I betcha he’s awfully tender.”

Kuzuru grinned and the boy whimpered. The boy closed his eyes and raised his blaster. Fighting through his paralyzing dread he squeezed the trigger and fired. The shot went wide, but served as a signal to everyone. In the split second it took everyone to register what had happened, calamity broke loose. Now with no excuse for restraint Kuzuru charged forth,  a primal warcray. Deathchew followed suit as several kunai glanced off his armor. Sasuke broke into a sprint behind his companion. With a flick of his wrist the shinobi flung an explosive tag which caught the bandit lord right between his eyes.

“Wait!” Sasuke shouted and grabbed Kuzuru.

“What the fuck!?” Kuzuru shouted as Sasuke snagged him.

*BOOM*

A concussive shockwave slammed into them as the Shinobi’s paper tag detonated. Deathchew was swallowed by a hellish cloud of flame and black smoke. Heat washed across the room in one sobering wave. Kuzuru shielded his eyes with his arm and stumbled back as the blast rocked him. As abruptly as it began, so too did it end. All that remained of the Baron was a smoldering cloud of soot and ash. Kuzuru groaned and let his arms fall limp.

“Come on,” he whined and glanced at the ninja, “you serious, I’m not sure who I’m more disappointed in, him or you.”

“Seriously?” Sasuke responded.

“Yeah, seriously,” Kuzuru shouted and threw his arms up for effect, “that was supposed to be the piece de resistance and you just punk him with a bit of--”

Kuzuru’s words were caught in his throat as a wave of excitement washed over him. A grin flashed across his face. Were it not for the sensory prowess that the two primes had they would have been completely blindsided. Deathchew’s mace lurched out from behind the smoke as he swung towards the fences. Kuzuru ducked beneath the blow, but the shinobi proved not to be as lucky. Sasuke was sent flying across the room as the Baron’s heavy-handed weapon batted him away. Breaking through the wisps of smoke still lingering in the air Baron Deathchew retained his momentum and brought his club high. Kuzuru grinned and raised his blades, ready to absorb the impact. Like a meteor Deathchew’s hammer crashed downwards. Kuzuru grinned, he had already planned a counterattack that would leave the Baron lifeless. However his heart skipped a beat as the oversized cudgel did not stop its descent. A cacophony, not unlike that of shattered porcelain, filled the air as the Baron’s sledge crashed through the demon’s blades. Kuzuru’s realization of what the fuck had just happened was cut short as the hammer carried itself through and cracked open the demon’s skull. In an instant he was flattened and left unconscious.

Baron Deathchew chuckled. For its part the explosive tag did ruin the Baron’s hair, but asides from a few minor burns he was no worse for wear. He crouched down and grabbed at his crumpled opponent. As if presenting a trophy the cannibal lord raised Kuzuru’s limp body by the back of its neck. Blood streamed down the prime’s body, a culmination of his previous wounds and one severe head trauma. Beneath his thick calloused fingers the Baron could still feel the faint lub-dub of the demon’s heartbeat. Perhaps it was his primal biology or perhaps it was the momentum his blades robbed from the sledge, but whatever it was Kuzuru’s body was still alive. Still alive, but not for long. Before the coup de grace could be delivered Deathchew was assaulted with a fusillade of blaster fire. Several bullets struck true, but only one or two of them managed to pierce his solid armor and thick hide.  With a grunt the goliath threw his prize at the interloper, sending the orphan sprawling as his Kuzuru's body slammed into him.

--

Somewhere two swordsmen stand facing each other. They are not brothers, but they both share a common legacy. They are prisoners. Their prison is not a physical peniterary, but rather a construct created by a being unknown to them. It is inescapable. Or rather, it was inescapable. What is a prison without a warden? Bars rust, locks break, and walls crumble. A warden stands absolute and without one this world becomes an unrestrained mess. One swordsman pushes the other towards freedom for it is not his place to be free.

--

Renji’s eyes opened for a brief moment. Copper filled his mouth and a sticky warmth covered his head. The scent of blood stung his nostrils and the hole in his chest ached. He rolled over onto his side and came face-to-face with that cursed sword. In the distance strangers waged battle. One massive brute thrashed against a skinny armless ninja. Renji blinked. He swallowed, but the copper taste refused to leave his blood-soaked mouth. A groggy voice in the back of his mind whined, but it was too concussed to speak clearly. After a few moments the swordsmen forced himself to stand. His body screamed in rebellion.

Memories came flooding back to him, but they were not his own. Ambrosia and its strange princess brought a wistful longing. The Steppes and its fire brought a loss of control. The Ashen Blades and their mercenaries brought a strange sense of satisfaction. Sasuke and his prowess brought… a hint of jealousy? Renji shook his head and grabbed the hilt of his blade.

RENJI, IT IS NOT YOUR TURN

“Fuck off,” the swordsman groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.

With the groggy steps of a drunkard Renji stumbled forward.

LET ME OUT

Baron Deathchew swore as Sasuke’s blade found a chink in his armor and buried itself deep into his flesh. He howled in pain and swung his mace wildly. The shinobi was forced to leap away, leaving his prized blade buried in the Baron’s side. Not skipping a beat Sasuke wrenched a repeating crossbow from its perch on one of Deathchew's trophy stands. The sophisticated weapon of war was still loaded with several red-tipped bolts. Throwing caution to the wind the shinobi squeeze the trigger and the auto-loading mechanism whirred to life. Bolt after bolt was leveled against the Baron and as each one struck his stalwart body it exploded. Sasuke smirked as he continued firing bolt after explosive bolt into the Baron. Deathchew clenched his teeth, leaned into the barrage, and raised a palm. As if he was weathering a sandstorm the implacable giant forced his body against the withering hail of explosions.
GIVE ME HIS BLOOD

Renji surged forward, his body now completely sovereign. Where the demon would have advanced with reckless abandon the swordsman approached with a lethal precision. The Baron was now mere feet away from the fire-launcher. Sweat dripped down from Sasuke’s forehead as his ammunition literally went up in flames. A sudden burst of brute force the Baron broke through the hail of fire and clamped his hand across Sasuke’s head, palming his melon like a basketball. Sasuke clutched at his attacker’s limb, but found no purchase against the muscle-laden forearm. Deathchew grinned and began to squeeze, hoping to pop his adversary’s head like a balloon. A horrid squelch filled the air as Renji skewered the Baron’s forearm with his sword. The Baron bellowed in agony as the swordsman wrenched his sword upward, twisting the man’s arm in one agonizing motion. Taking advantage of his sudden liberation Sasuke slapped at the Baron’s wrist. Dropping backwards and rolling away the ninja left a series of explosive tags wrapped around Deathchew’s wrist. In one fluid motion Renji removed his blade and dove to the side.

KILL

*BOOM*

This time the tags left behind more than just a pyrotechnic display. The Baron’s severed hand was sent flying through the air, slamming against a nearby wall with a unsettling smack. Renji stood up and pointed his sword towards the resulting cloud of debris. Sasuke glanced over at his newfound ally. Where there had been an unrestrained force of nature there was now a tranquil warrior. Stoic and unflinching Renji chose not to acknowledge the stranger to his side and instead focused wholly on the stirring form behind the smoke.

Transformed back to base form and popped “Strength of the Damned” power up for the rest of the fight. New stats follow
ATK - 4
DEF - 1
SPD - 4
TEC - 7

[Sasuke Uchiha]

“I was wondering when you would make an appearance.” the shinobi grinned with eyes that never left Deathchew. “Welcome to the show.” 

 Likewise fixated on the baron, the stoic swordsman remained silent, but arched an eyebrow in response.

“Allow me to catch you up to speed.” Sasuke offered as he extended Kusanagi to its length and aimed it at the cannibal king. “See Renji, you and I have a wager,” shinobi said as he dug his heels into the dirt, and exploded into a sprint towards the baron, “first one to down this piece of shit wins!”

The samurai said nothing, he simply mirrored the shinobi’s actions, and burst into a sprint all of his own. Without proper introduction, a conversation, or hell, even a smile from across the room, the two swordsmen were able to coordinate, complement, and astoundingly enough, find perfect synchronism.

Crisscrossing their routes, they flanked each other just before the culmination of their combined assault. Going low and going high, they converged on the tyrant at once, creating a beautiful symphony of lacerations. 

Death by a thousand cuts, the samurai and shinobi melded together, in a way that the demon never could have, as though they were cut from the same cloth. The momentum was shifting, the baron was reeling, and the pair of primes were making a novice out of the cannibal king.

“ARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Suddenly the baron erupted and an unforeseen force pushed outward in all directions, catching and lifting both Samurai and Shinobi from their feet. Sasuke flew helplessly several yards until his body banged, crashed, and skipped against the hard pyramid floor. Renji, on the other hand, seen it coming and caught himself. Katana in hand, the samurai surged forward to retaliate and clashed against Deathchew’s spiked mace, where they stood in gridlock.

With brute force, the cannibal king won the exchange, and shoved the swordsman back, initiating an assault of his own. Relentless, Deathchew closed the distance on Renji and slammed his mace into the samurai’s chest; multiple spikes dug through cloth and into flesh. The confident looks of superiority had all but vanished from the swordsman, as he was now forced on the defensive.

Blow after blow, Renji resisted Deathchew and his mace, but each thunderous exchange left the time-lost swordsman with less wear and tear. All of the samurai’s guile and clever sword play was for naught against such a tenacious might. Collisions with Deathchew left tremors in his wake and blocking did little to dull the pain.

So Renji dodged. Swift, nimble, and fluid, the samurai’s movements were but a series of elegantly executed evasions, allowing him solace, even in close quarters with the brute. Void of wasted energy, the samurai’s body was a reflection of his dedicated craft, narrowly avoiding blow after blow, and all the while managing to execute counter strikes.

Unfortunately, one missed step was all it took to send Renji tumbling to the floor, and for Deathchew gain the advantage. Clubbing the samurai over the head as he fell, Deathchew could see his eyes roll into the back of his head. Laughing while closing in on the samurai, the brute went in for a killing blow with his mace. However, as swordsman went down, Sasuke went up.

---

Somewhere, two swordsmen stood back to back. They are not friends, but they serve a common purpose. They are colleagues. The foe of an enemy is an ally to the cause, and the cause, above all, is paramount. It is inescapable. One swordsman pulls back the freedom of the other, for there is cause to champion.

---

Soaring over the samurai, the shinobi got the drop on the tyrant, and drove Kusanagui straight down through the cannibal’s shoulder, piercing armor, and tearing apart flesh.

“Baron Deathchew!” Sasuke exclaimed as he used a foot to kick off, and retrieved the wedged Kusanagi, “I, Sasuke Uchiha, Hand to the King in Nippur, have come to dispense unto you the king’s Justice!”

“I knew they'd come.” the cannibal’s words came sputtering in blood, “That's why I chose this place. Out of sight, out of mind.” Clenching the mace in his only hand, the cannibal flailed the medieval weapon at Sasuke, but Kuzuru had already returned to the fight, and intercepted the blow with his own weapon.

“Miss me sunshine?” the demon cooed then gave his prime companion a wink. Sasuke grinned.

“You’re finished.” the ninja scoffed. Pressing their assault, the pair of primes performed a furry of ‘figure eight’ style slashes, carving beautiful calligraphy into the baron’s skin.

“For the charges of crimes against the state, I denounce you and hereby strip you of all ranks and titles.” As the shinobi spoke he plunged Kusanagi deep into the baron’s abdomen and continued, “I sentence you to death, Quinn Bonepart!”

“I haven’t heard that name in a long time.” Coughing up blood, Deathchew looked defiantly into the shinobi’s eyes and said, “It was only a matter of time before they sent someone for me.” The mad king then broke out into a hysterical laughter, “If only Itachi had known they would send you.”

Startled, Sasuke dropped everything, “Itachi?!” but before the ninja could probe for answers, the cannibal retrieved a dagger from under his armor, gave a maniacal laugh, and slit his own throat.

“WHAT THE F*CK?!”