Hey guys, here is the new chapter hope you will liked and read thru everything.
If we hit 100 PW I post a extra chapter
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Four months had passed since that historic night when Sunagakure celebrated the birth of the legitimate princes of the Sand under its towering futuristic dome. During this time, the great utopia of the desert had done nothing but consolidate its status as the most advanced, wealthy, and secure nation on the shinobi map.
The industrial chimneys and the village laboratories operated at maximum capacity, driven by complex steam systems, automated gears, and energy from the Ryūmyaku. What was once a dry, hostile village dependent on the whims of the weather or unfavorable trade treaties with other countries had been radically transformed into a resplendent metropolis.
Yet, far from the political bustle, the official offices, and the responsibilities of governing the most powerful nation of the moment in the towering Kazekage's Tower, the atmosphere inside Daigo's private residence was one of absolute peace and relaxation.
The spacious backyard of his home had been meticulously designed to break away from the rustic aesthetic of old Suna. Completely protected from the harsh elements of the outer desert, the scorching sandstorms, and the suffocating heat thanks to advanced climate control and air purification systems derived from the great glass dome, the garden felt like an entirely different ecosystem. The ground was covered with state-of-the-art artificial grass that felt as soft as moss from a damp forest.
In the center of this space, Daigo rested peacefully in a comfortable reclining chair. The leader of the Sand was dressed unusually casually: a light gray robe without the heavy military pauldrons or the official ornaments of his office. He was enjoying what could easily be considered his first real vacation in many years. In his arms, cradled with extreme care and a subtle warmth that contrasted with his usual reputation as a strategic leader, he held his two small four-month-old babies.
The twins were the living reflection of a new era. The girl, whom they had named Sunae, rested peacefully on the left side of his chest. The little one already showed fine tufts of orange hair and green like his mother and, whenever she blinked her eyes open, she revealed the intense, striking pink eyes inherited from her father, observing her surroundings with quiet, infant curiosity.
Beside her, resting against Daigo right arm, the boy, christened Daiku, slept deeply, oblivious to the worries of the outside world. Daiku proudly displayed his most Unique physical trait: The hair, in perfect symmetry, sections of orange and gray. Daigo gazed at his children in silence, feeling their steady breathing and experiencing an inner satisfaction that no political treaty or military victory had ever granted him.
A few meters away, Pakura moved with flawless agility and grace. Having fully recovered from the demanding twin pregnancy thanks to her excellent physical condition and the care of the medical team, the legendary heroine of the Sand already wore her slender figure and her classic ninja training attire. Her face, usually firm and defiant on the battlefield, overflowed with a radiant, peaceful smile as she crouched on the grass in front of Kimimaro.
The little boy, who was already two years and a few months old, showed an astonishing seriousness and focus for his young age. Dressed in a small white tunic, his large green eyes remained locked on his mother's hands.
"That's it, Kimimaro. Don't force the flow," Pakura explained in a gentle, patient voice, placing her own fingers over the child's wrists. "Feel the energy rising from your core. Imagine it is like a sandstorm traveling through your arms, and guide it gently toward the palm of your hand. The secret of chakra is not in the violence of the impact, but in the absolute control you have over it."
Kimimaro listened with devout attention. Clasping his tiny hands together and furrowing his two signature circular eyebrows in a grimace of deep childhood concentration, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, stabilizing his small feet on the grass. A few seconds later, to Pakura's delight, a thin, light, and glowing layer of light blue chakra began to dance around his small fingers, stabilizing harmoniously without causing any strain on his body.
The boy opened his eyes, saw the result of his effort, and a timid but unmistakable smile of pride spread across his face. The first thing he did was immediately turn his head toward the chair to look for Daigo's approval. Daigo, watching the scene closely, nodded slightly and gave him a look of deep satisfaction. Kimimaro, feeling like the luckiest child in the desert, puffed out his chest with joy and continued to maintain the flow under Pakura's guidance.
The peaceful and perfect family atmosphere was cheerfully and noisily interrupted when the large sliding wood-and-glass doors leading to the interior of the house slid wide open. Through them entered Rasa, stripped of his combat armor and wearing simple, light-colored civilian clothes. His face, which during his years of political rivalry and his stressful work as an Anbu commander had been a mask of bitterness, now looked rejuvenated, jovial, and relaxed. Walking beside him was his wife Karura, who stepped forward elegantly in a long cream-colored dress, carrying a large wicker basket filled with traditional snacks, fresh fruits, and date sweets.
Behind the couple came their small but energetic dynasty. Temari, aged two, walked with a firm step, holding a small toy parasol and looking around with analytical eyes that already hinted at her strong character. Kankuro, barely a year old, moved a bit slower, taking clumsy tumbles on the grass while dragging a small jointed wooden puppet that his uncle sasori had crafted for him.
Finally, in a delicate cloth bassinet that Karura shielded with utmost care, rested little Gaara, an almost newborn baby with rosy cheeks and thin red hair, sleeping peacefully under the safety of their surroundings.
"Well, Daigo. If anyone had told me five years ago that I would see the man who loves training and battles, the very person who guided Sunagakure onto the right path, serving as a living pillow for two babies while sunbathing in a garden, I would have ordered that ninja locked up in the psychiatric ward for insanity," Rasa joked with an honest, booming laugh, breaking the ice as he approached his friend's chair.
"Indeed, Rasa. Though even people like me, who love training and battles, need to rest," Daigo replied with subtle irony in his voice, keeping his movements slow so as not to wake Daiku or disturb Sunae, extending his left hand to greet Rasa with a firm handshake.
Karura stepped forward carefully, setting the basket on a nearby wooden table and immediately leaning over to look at the twins Daigo was holding. Her eyes lit up with tenderness.
"Oh, look at these beauties!" Karura whispered excitedly, so as not to break the infants' sleep.
"Sunae has Pakura's delicate facial features and hair, undeniably, but those pink eyes are entirely yours, Daigo. And Daiku's hair... it is an absolute wonder, it looks like a perfectly painting. It is beautiful to see the village with a future so full of life."
Pakura stood up, letting Kimimaro play with Temari and Kankuro under the watchful eyes of the adults. She approached Karura and gave her a warm welcome hug, helping her set up a portable crib where they placed little Gaara to rest in the open air alongside his cousins.
"I'm so glad you came, Karura," Pakura said, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead with a small towel. "These months have been a crazy adaptation period, but seeing them grow up healthy makes up for any sleepless night."
It wasn't long before the third family of this inner circle of trust made their appearance in the private oasis. The sliding doors opened softly once more to let Sasori and Karinna pass. Sasori, dressed in an impeccably tailored dark robe that denoted his refined aesthetic taste, walked with his usual straight and calm posture, completely devoid of any poison tools or combat puppets.
Beside him, Karinna walked in with a radiant smile, holding her newborn daughter, whom they had decided to name Karin, with infinite maternal love. Little Karin already showed striking tufts of an intense, pure reddish color, sleeping peacefully wrapped in a lilac silk blanket, completely oblivious to the importance of the people around her.
"I see you started without us, Daigo, Rasa, Pakura, Karura," Sasori expressed in his characteristically slow, analytical tone, though his eyes reflected a genuine warmth and deep respect as he stepped closer to look at the twins of the Sand. "I must admit, the symmetry in Daiku's hair is artistically perfect. You have a flawless start to your dynasty."
"Look how cute they both are! Congratulations to you too, Pakura. They are huge for being only four months old," Karinna added, stepping closer to gently show them little Karin. "Look at our little girl. She spends the whole day sleeping. I think she inherited Sasori's patience when he works on his designs."
"Congratulations to you both as well, Karinna, Sasori," Daigo replied in a calm voice, looking at the red-haired baby. "Her health looks formidable. Suna remains blessed with strong heirs."
Capitalizing on the breathtaking and historic technological leaps Daigo had implemented across the village's entire infrastructure, the residential properties enjoyed resources that in the past would have seemed like divine miracles.
Thanks to the monumental water filtration, desalination, and purification machines designed by Kanzaki operating better than ever under industrial supervision, the residence boasted a massive, crystal-clear swimming pool integrated right into the center of the yard. The water, perfectly tempered and free of impurities, sparkled under the golden light filtering through the glass of the dome.
The older children wasted no time in claiming the pool area and the lawn. Temari, showing the energy and leadership that would define her in the future, took little Kankuro by the hand to guide him near the edge, showing him how small colored balls floated on the surface. Kimimaro, displaying an amazing maturity and protective instinct for his two years and change, walked a cautious distance behind them, keeping his green eyes fixed on every single step of Rasa's children to ensure none of them tripped or slipped on the wet edge. His role as a responsible older brother and silent guardian drew looks of pride and tenderness from both Pakura and Karura.
While the children played happily in their own little world, the adults gathered under the pleasant shade of a covered porch. Karinna, Karura, and Pakura sat together, sharing advice on caring for newborns and laughing quietly as they compared the subtle differences in temperament between the twins, little Karin, and Gaara. Sasori, Rasa, and Daigo settled into carved wooden armchairs, sharing glasses of a refreshing drink made from desert fruits and purified ice—a luxury now accessible to any ordinary citizen of Sunagakure due to industrial overproduction.
For the first time in months, the conversation did not revolve around the military movements of enemy nations, international espionage threats, weapon budgets, or tensions on the borders of the great villages. They spoke of ordinary things, their daily experiences as parents, funny anecdotes about crying fits in the middle of the night, and everyday projects to improve the village's residential districts. It was a peaceful, highly enjoyable, warm scene overflowing with profound humanity. It was the living testament to the radical change Daigo had forged: characters who, in another reality or timeline, would have been destined for isolation, betrayal, madness, or a premature, tragic death in the desert, now stood united by bonds of sincere friendship, enjoying a full, stable, and hard-earned happiness.
As the sun began to set peacefully in the west, painting the colossal glass dome of Sunagakure with beautiful, majestic hues of violet, orange, and crimson, the reality of the shinobi world thousands of kilometers away took on an infinitely darker, colder, and stormier tone.
In Amegakure, the Hidden Rain Village, water fell from the sky incessantly, heavy and merciless. The droplets struck with a monotonous, metallic rhythm against the giant steel structures, the endless networks of industrial pipes, and the cold concrete skyscrapers that made up the nation's gloomy and intimidating urban landscape. The air was thick with moisture, coal smoke, and a perpetual mist that swallowed the daylight. At the top of the tallest government tower, a stone sanctuary shielded and protected by dense barrier seals, an organization was steadily laying the foundations of a plan meant to bring the entire world to its knees: Akatsuki.
Inside a wide circular room lit only by the flickering dance of a few black candles, the current members of the organization were gathered. Far from being mere political idealists, the group operated actively in the continent's black market, earning a fearsome reputation as the most effective, clean, and lethal mercenary faction in modern history. Their services were secretly coveted by feudal lords and small villages seeking to resolve territorial disputes without triggering open wars.
In the exact center of the room stood the imposing, unmoving figure of Pain, the Deva Path, whose eyes reflected the coldness of steel. However, behind the shadows lay the reality of his creator, Nagato. Nagato was no longer that skeletal, emaciated shinobi bound for life to a mechanical life-support machine due to the irreversible physical damage caused by summoning the Gedo Statue in the past.
Obito Uchiha or rather, the man who had introduced himself to Nagato as Madara Uchiha utilizing his knowledge of Madara's secrets, had intervened in time using the living, highly regenerative cells of White Zetsu. The treatment had healed Nagato's damaged chakra pathways and completely restored his muscular and nervous systems.
Now, the rightful wielder of the Rinnegan walked perfectly on his own two feet, possessing an impeccable, robust physical condition bursting with vitality. His mere physical presence in the room generated a pressure so massive and dense that the ambient chakra made the stone walls and metal pipes vibrate with a constant hum, projecting the aura of a god of destruction at the peak of his powers.
At his right side, Konan stood as still as a porcelain statue. Her serious, analytical expression blended perfectly with the paper flower hairpiece in her blue hair, keeping her senses sharp and her techniques ready to deploy at her partner's slightest signal.
A few steps behind them, leaning back against a reinforced concrete pillar, Orochimaru observed his surroundings with a viper-like, sibilant smile full of intellectual malice. His yellow eyes with slit pupils did not wander from Pain's Rinnegan, scientifically fascinated by the origin of that ocular power, all while spinning his own side-plots within the organization. In an opposite corner of the stone table, Kakuzu was meticulously focused, counting and organizing an immense bounty consisting of stacks of bills, gold bars, and official bounty scrolls they had just obtained after completely wiping out, by themselves, a rebel military bastion on the borders of the Land of Earth that had dared to defy their clients.
The silence of the room was broken when one of the thick stone walls began to subtly distort, allowing the eerie silhouette of Zetsu to emerge from the structure, merging with the shadows like a Venus flytrap. Walking right beside him, stepping out of the hallway's gloom as if he had always been waiting there, appeared a figure wearing an orange spiral mask and a dark travel cloak. He stumbled clumsily before comically regaining his balance so as not to raise any suspicion regarding his true capabilities.
"Ooooh, it's so cold up here! Hello, everyone! Tobi is back from his trip and brought very important information!" the masked man squeaked in a high-pitched, childish, and exaggerated voice, scratching the back of his neck while taking little hops.
"Tobi was a good boy and helped Zetsu-san spy on the borders, yes sir!"
Zetsu, ignoring his companion's antics, locked his gaze onto the leader of the organization.
"The espionage reports are entirely clear, Pain-sama," sised the dark half of Zetsu, while the white half nodded with a mocking grin. "The international board has shifted drastically."
Nagato, controlling the formidable Deva Path, did not flinch at Tobi's entrance. His rippled purple eyes gleamed with a mystical coldness that demanded absolute submission in the room, causing even the masked man to silently shrug and step behind Zetsu with mock compliance.
"I have analyzed the reports from our networks in the shadows," Pain declared, his deep, resonant voice instantly silencing any potential murmurs. "Konoha is plunged into deep mourning, and their reconstruction efforts are moving extremely slowly after the Nine-Tails' attack. Their primary leaders, the fifth Hokage and the Kyūbi Jinchūriki, have been permanently diminished in their combat capacity. The Land of Fire is vulnerable like never before in its history."
Pain walked with a firm step toward the stone table, where several tactical maps lay.
"However, the real issue requiring our immediate attention lies to the west. Sunagakure has transformed into an absolute anomaly. Its technological, industrial, and military development under Daigo's leadership has made it practically impenetrable from the outside. Our spies confirm they have engineered a massive dome that alters the environment and that, just four months ago, they successfully completed the sealing of the concentrated chakra of the Seven-Tails, Chōmei, inside the Kazekage's newborn daughter, Sunae. The power of the Sand is consolidating right from the cradle of its princes."
Nagato took a firm step forward, his sandals clicking sharply against the stone floor.
"The Sand's glass dome, their steam engines, and their supposed scientific advancement are nothing but temporary toys in the face of the immutability of pain," Pain's voice declared, echoing like a deity's inside the tower's walls.
"Technology cannot save humanity from its own destructive nature. The plan I have laid out for Akatsuki remains unchanged. The capture, containment, and control of all Tailed Beasts is the only absolute way to enforce true peace through the fear of mutual suffering. If Sunagakure possesses the Seven-Tails, it simply means the Sand will be one of the stages where the world will witness the true power of a god in the future."
"To execute that plan on a large scale when the time comes, we must first expand our current ranks," Konan intervened in a firm, melodic voice, stepping forward and unfurling a wide intelligence scroll across the center of the stone table.
"Currently, our structure is highly effective as a mercenary group, but numerically insufficient to challenge the combined military power of the Great Nations should they decide to unite. With the recent casualties in the black market and the disappearance of several minor factions, our absolute and immediate priority must be the active search and recruitment of worthy members under Pain-sama's leadership."
Konan pointed her finger at several detailed maps showing records from different countries.
"We need S-rank rogue ninja. International criminals whose philosophy aligns with the destruction of the old order, men whose individual abilities are so destructive and devastating that their mere mention strikes terror into the bingo books of the hidden villages. Only beings of that caliber have the right to wear the ring of Akatsuki."
Orochimaru let out a low, unsettling, sibilant laugh, running his long tongue over his lips with a look full of anticipation and greed, casting a sidelong glance at the apparent submissiveness of the clumsy Tobi before locking back onto the imposing Pain.
"The shinobi world is overflowing with bitter, misunderstood, and outlawed monsters sitting in the dark, waiting for a chance to take revenge on their respective villages, Konan-san," the rogue Sannin remarked, crossing his arms.
"I myself, during my travels and experiments in underground labs, have compiled a couple of highly interesting names. Individuals with unique skills who would be more than happy to join our little theatrical play if we offer them the right resources."
"I don't care about their pasts, their existential traumas, or their desires for revenge against the system," Kakuzu interrupted with a dry, gruff growl, firmly snapping shut the metal briefcase where he kept the money from their latest mission.
"The only thing I demand from new recruits is that their assassination skills fully justify the price of keeping them in the organization, and that their efficiency serves to attract larger contracts to keep generating massive profits for our operating funds. Pain, pain is a fine concept, but to me..." Kakuzu trailed off, suddenly falling silent, causing everyone to look at him with curiosity.
Tobi, being the most impatient and unable to bear the silence, piped up:
"Kakuzu-san, what matters to you?!"
"Money, nothing else. Don't speak to me unless it is about money."
Nagato remained silent at Kakuzu's remark, turning his towering figure back toward the massive window of the tower. From that height, he watched the torrential rain wash over the alleys of Amegakure, cleansing the dirt of the streets but leaving the darkness of the night untouched. Behind him, Tobi nodded frantically in a childish manner to each of his silent thoughts, mimicking an exaggerated military salute.
The machinery of Akatsuki had officially and irreversibly set itself in motion on the international stage under the unquestioned guidance of the God of Rain. The mercenary organization was ready to step beyond the borders of the Land of Rain and begin its hunt for the most dangerous criminals on the planet, preparing the ground for the collection of the Bijuu.
The contrast on the world map was absolute and perfect: while Sunagakure celebrated the blossoming of life, friendship, and the family of Daiku and Sunae under the golden glow of its futuristic glass oasis, the thickest shadows of Amegakure began to stretch their claws toward the horizon, ready to unleash a storm that threatened to devour the peace of the entire world.
End of Chapter