Three days had passed sihe annou of the in Exams. The Hidden Leaf buzzed with activity as teams prepared for the uping trials. Training grounds were filled with the csh of kunai and bursts of elemental jutsu as genin hoheir skills, the air crag with anticipation and nervous energy. Young ninja moved with purpose, some driven by dreams of adva, others by the weight of familial expectations, and a few by pure petitive spirit.
In stark trast to the freic preparation surrounding him, Kuro y sprawled on the roof of the inn, gazing at the clouds as the sun bathed the vilge in its warm, golden light. Wisps of cumulus drifted zily across the azure sky, seemingly unbothered by the intense preparations happening below. His usual indiffereo training had earned him Reika's ire more than once over the past few days, but today, he wasn't simply zing around.
Kuro sat up and closed his eyes, his breathing slowing as he slipped into a meditative state. The world around him seemed to fade, redug to a soft background hum of distant training and vilge noise. For the first time in years—perhaps lifetimes—he felt a sense of crity washing over him. His thoughts, typically scattered and rebellious, began to settle like sediment in a calm pond.
A notification blinked before his mind's eye, crisp and definitive:
> **[Synization plete: 100%]**
The message should have been cause for celebration, a moment of triumph that would typically send waves of excitement through anyone experieng such a breakthrough. Instead, frustration ed within him like a restless storm. The pletion of synizatio almost mogly hollow.
*If synization is done, why 't I feel my powers?* he wohe question eg in the silent chambers of his mind. *What am I missing? What crucial piece of the puzzle remains just out of reach?*
His hand ched into a fist, muscles tensing with tration as he tried to summohe fai flicker of his tent abilities. A subtle ripple of energy, a whisper of power—anything would have been wele. But nothing came. It was as though an invisible, imperable barrier stood between him and his potential, a transparent wall he could see through but not breach.
The frustration was a tangible thing now, a liviy that coiled around his sciousness. He had e so far, endured so much, ahis final hurdle seemed insurmountable. The 100% synizatio like a taunt, a mathematical precision that meant nothing without practical maion. It's like downloading a file from the i that gets stuck at 100%, but doesn't trigger the pletion notification.
From below, Reika's voice broke his tration, cutting through his meditation like a sharp kunai. "Kuro! Are you seriously meditating? I thought you'd taken up professional cloud-watg by now."
Her tone carried a mixture of exasperation and underlying . She knew him well enough that his current state was more than mere ziness. There urpose to his seemingly aimless behavior, even if that purpose remained obscure. Which is she doesn't know.
He smirked, but didn't open his eyes. "Maybe I'm just waiting for my powers to impress you."
The eback was cssic Kuro—defleg serious moments with casual humor, using wit as a shield against deeper vulnerabilities. Reika wasn't fooled for a moment.
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," she muttered, clearly unimpressed. Yet, there was a hint of affe in her voice, a testament to their plex retionship that banced between rivalry and camaraderie.
Xero's voice joihe versation, sharp as a bde and twice as cutting. "If you've got power, prove it. Otherwise, don't bother wasting our time."
Where Reika's critique carried nuance, Xero's words were direct, almost brutal in their assessment. He had little patience for potential and even less for those who couldn't immediately demonstrate their capabilities.
Kuro sighed, a sound that art resignation and part determinatioood and stretched, muscles rippling with trolled movement. "Patience, Xero. You'll see soon enough."
The statement hung in the air—part decration, part hope. Whether it romise of immi revetion or a desperate self-reassurance, even Kuro wasirely sure.
The sun tis steady march across the sky, indifferent to the internal struggles of the young ninja. The in Exams loomed closer, a crucible that would test not just skill and strength, but the very essence of who these young shinobi were and who they might bee.
And for Kuro, the greatest battle might not be agaiernal oppos, but against the mysterious barriers preventing him from accessing the power that seemed tantalizingly close, yet maddeningly out of reach.
The peaceful day was shattered by the sound of screams eg through the streets of the Hidden Leaf. It began as a distant rumble—a cacophony of terror that seemed to slice through the vilge's normally tranquil atmosphere like a razor-sharp kunai. The sound grew, transf from a distant murmur to a thunderous roar of pure panic.
Kuro, Reika, and Xero exged gnces—a wordless unication that spoke volumes about their years of training and shared experience(excluding Kuro). In that single moment of eye tact, they unicated more than most teams could ihy discussions. Something was wrong, and they o act.
They rushed toward the otion, moving with the synized precision of shinobi who had traiogether for years. The streets blurred around them, buildings and market stalls being mere shadows as they darted through the increasingly panicked crowd.
When they arrived at the vilge square, the se that greeted them was nothing short of apocalyptic.
Monstrous three-headed wolves rampaged through the streets, their presence so uhat it seemed like a nightmare made flesh. Each beast stood nearly three meters tall, their massive bodies intricate iron armor that gleamed with an unnatural, almost meical sheen. Their six eyes—two for each head—burned with an intelligehat was far from natural, sing the enviro with calcuted precision.
"Three-headed wolves?" Reika excimed, her voice a mixture of disbelief and professional assessment. Her hand instinctively moved toward her on pouch, fingers brushing against the array of kunai and specialized tools she carried.
