On the eastern horizon, the rising sun finally broke free from the last strands of night, spilling its first golden light over the devastated western district of Infinite City.
Warm orange sunlight flowed across the charred ruins, the lake still releasing white steam, and the wrecked streets littered with debris.
Smoke had yet to fully disperse.
Mixed with moisture, burnt ash, and the heavy smell of blood, it formed faint violet columns that slowly spiraled upward into the morning sky.
The western warehouse district had become a strange mixture of scorched earth and water.
Broken walls and collapsed structures stood like the jagged bones of some colossal beast, pointing silently toward the sky.
Along the relatively intact shoreline of the lake, more than five hundred defeated Mist shinobi knelt or crouched in despair.
Members of the Ginza Security Division were chaining them together in groups of five using iron restraints engraved with chakra-sealing formulas.
Any thought of rebellion had already been crushed.
Fuguki Suikazan received special treatment.
Bound alone in heavy chains, he lay sprawled across the cold ground.
His entire body was scorched black, flesh torn open in many places.
Burn wounds deep enough to reveal bone, along with ragged lacerations, looked horrifying beneath the morning sun.
Though emergency treatment had barely preserved his life, dark red foam still seeped slowly from his mouth and wounds with each weak breath.
His consciousness flickered.
His life force trembled like a candle in the wind.
The savage commander who had roared across the battlefield the night before was now barely recognizable.
"A nobody, huh?"
A calm voice pierced Suikazan's fading consciousness like a needle.
He struggled to open his eyes—
Only to see Uchiha Fugaku standing nearby, casually playing with Samehada.
Suikazan's eyes widened instantly.
But with his life already in their hands, he dared not utter a single word.
Not far away, Kisame Hoshigaki looked just as miserable.
His body was covered in burns and deep sword wounds.
Half-kneeling on the ground and bound in identical chains, his shark-like eyes stared downward in silence, lost in thought.
"The injuries aren't critical."
A plain-looking woman moved calmly through the injured members of the Crimson Guard and the Security Division.
The hem of her pants bulged slightly around her ankles.
From time to time, the green glow of the Mystical Palm Technique illuminated her hands.
Though the previous night had been an overwhelming victory, battle was never without danger.
The Blood Mist shinobi had not simply stood there waiting to be slaughtered.
For Uchiha warriors with Sharingan, the battle had been manageable.
But those who had not awakened their eyes—or those with only chunin-level strength—had inevitably suffered injuries during the brutal close combat.
Fortunately, the Uchiha possessed exceptional combat discipline and teamwork.
Most wounds were minor.
Only a few were severe.
Yet under the woman's astonishingly skilled medical ninjutsu, even those on the brink of death were pulled back.
Their breathing gradually stabilized.
Compared to them, the Ginza Security Division had suffered far heavier losses.
Most of them only possessed genin-level strength.
When the Mist shinobi launched their final desperate counterattack before dawn, many had fallen.
The woman's expression remained calm.
Someone long accustomed to life and death showed no outward emotion.
Only unwavering focus.
Behind her walked Uzumaki Minako.
Watching Tsunade, disguised with the Transformation Technique, treating the wounded, Minako's eyes showed faint approval.
As long as someone sincerely worked for the Uchiha—
They were a good Senju.
Perhaps in the future, this woman's name might become…
Uchiha Tsunade.
Morning light slanted across the battlefield, outlining every busy figure in soft gold.
The surroundings were filled with muffled groans of the wounded, the light clatter of medical tools, and quiet conversation.
Yet from above—
All of it seemed distant.
Uchiha Mikoto stepped onto the empty rooftop of Ginza Tower, walking into the rising sunlight.
The morning wind here was cold and sharp.
It carried away the smoke and blood-scented air below, leaving only the clear chill of the high sky.
Her long black ponytail swayed behind her slender waist.
Sunlight illuminated her fair profile and long eyelashes.
Though faint shadows of exhaustion remained beneath her eyes after a sleepless night, her gaze remained sharp.
Loose strands of hair brushed softly against her neck and collarbone in the wind.
Her footsteps echoed lightly on the polished rooftop floor.
Standing between the rising sun and the high wind—
Mikoto possessed both the sharp aura of a warrior fresh from battle and the serene beauty of dawn itself.
Uchiha Anlan sat quietly on a couch near the window, eyes closed in meditation.
His face looked calm beneath the golden sunlight.
In his hand rested a smooth Digimon Egg.
The eggshell shimmered faintly, glowing like milky crystal.
Mikoto gently sat beside him.
The soft cushion sank slightly.
Her dark eyes carefully examined him.
No new injuries.
His chakra flow remained steady and deep.
The lightning dragon that had descended from the heavens the night before—
The strike that judged the battlefield—
Had left no visible strain on him.
An arm wrapped naturally around her waist.
Mikoto offered no resistance.
She leaned into him, settling comfortably in his embrace.
Her cheek rested against his shoulder.
The tension and exhaustion of the night finally found somewhere to rest.
Anlan opened his eyes.
His dark gaze reflected the woman in his arms.
Out of habit, he lowered his head and inhaled softly near her hair.
The elegant fragrance he remembered was gone.
Instead—
Smoke.
Dust.
Sweat.
Blood.
The rough scent of the battlefield.
A trace of concern flickered across his face.
"You could've stayed upstairs with me," he said softly.
"Why go down there at all?"
Mikoto half-closed her eyes.
"I'm your sister… and a three-tomoe Uchiha."
"I'm not a flower raised in a greenhouse."
"Nor a caged canary."
Because they still wore crimson armor, Mikoto gently pushed the Digimon Egg aside and shifted into a more comfortable position.
A faint blush touched her cheeks.
"Mm. My Mikoto is the best."
"Hmph. Smooth talker."
"Tongue?"
"Mmm—"
A thin strand of silver stretched between their lips in the sunlight—
Then snapped.
"Anlan…"
After witnessing the lightning dragon the night before, Mikoto's sense of security overflowed.
Her eyes softened as she gazed at her handsome husband.
She clung to him like a koala.
But Anlan remained far more rational.
After all, he had just finished negotiating a deal worth hundreds of billions with Tsunade—and unleashed Azure Dragon Break.
He wasn't a superhuman.
"Later… wear the black stockings."
Mikoto's face flushed.
"…Alright. I'll listen to you."
"You're always thinking about such things."
"Always bullying your sister."
Anlan laughed lightly.
"Every time you're the one who enjoys it the most."
"Talking nonsense again…"
Realizing she couldn't win the argument, Mikoto changed the subject.
"The battle is over."
"Kirigakure deployed 1,500 shinobi."
"About 1,000 were killed or incapacitated by lightning, flames, and other attacks."
"More than twenty jonin confirmed dead, including several Seven Ninja Swordsmen candidates."
She paused.
"513 prisoners captured."
"Fuguki Suikazan and Kisame Hoshigaki are separately confined."
"Samehada has been seized."
"Our losses…"
"The Crimson Guard suffered zero deaths."
"Three severely wounded. Over thirty lightly injured."
"The Ginza Security Division lost forty-six men."
"More than a hundred wounded."
She looked up at him with sincere gratitude.
"Thanks to Tsunade's assistance… otherwise some clan members might have died."
"Even if our positions differ…"
"We should still thank her."
Tsunade had not slept the entire night.
She had witnessed the lightning dragon.
Felt that overwhelming power like divine punishment.
So when Anlan summoned her to act as battlefield medic—
She offered almost no resistance.
If she couldn't defeat him directly—
She would attack from another angle.
Though for now, she continued hiding her identity.
"I'll meet Tsunade personally later," Anlan said with a faint smile.
"And thank her properly."
"After last night… she's practically one of us already."
As their conversation continued, Mikoto's responses gradually grew shorter.
Her breathing slowed.
A faint sound—like a kitten purring—escaped her lips.
Anlan looked down at her sleeping face and chuckled softly.
She hadn't changed at all.
She could always fall asleep in his arms.
His Sharingan glowed faintly.
With a flicker of ocular power—
Both of them disappeared from the rooftop.
A moment later, they appeared inside the quiet inner chamber of the tower.
Soft sunlight filtered through the curtains.
With a thought—
Mikoto's soot-covered armor vanished and appeared neatly on a nearby table.
Now she lay in his arms wearing only light clothing.
Anlan gently placed her on the bed.
He pulled the blanket over her and tucked it carefully around her shoulders.
Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Warm.
Soft.
Lingering.
"Don't forget the black stockings tonight."
Her cheeks seemed slightly redder even in sleep.
Outside, Anlan suddenly remembered the Digimon Egg and returned to the rooftop.
Morning light had grown brighter.
The smooth egg still rested quietly on the couch.
Bathed in golden sunlight.
But now—
The glow within it had grown stronger.
Then—
Crack.
A faint sound echoed through the quiet morning wind.
Anlan's gaze sharpened instantly.
A thin fracture had appeared at the top of the once-perfect shell.
But what emerged from the crack was not yolk—
It was light.
White.
Mixed with faint black and crimson.
Crack… crack…
More fractures spread across the shell like spiderwebs.
The light inside grew brighter, spilling through the cracks in three colors.
A strange sensation filled Anlan's chest.
Not chakra.
Not any energy from the ninja world.
It felt…
Pure.
Joyful.
Alive.
Then—
A small piece of shell popped open.
From the gap, a round black head slowly pushed its way out.
Clumsy.
But determined.
Two large yellow eyes blinked curiously at the world.
On its head were two small ear-like bumps.
Its body was smooth like slime.
A tiny black creature.
Botamon.
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