Shark and the Guillotine[SSM Event]

The fog rested thickly over the village and her surrounding domain, claiming mastery over the entirety of the land as always. The veil as of yet transparent enough even for those unaccustomed to the pearly sheets to navigate, the weather held her composure as she always did. Nothing had changed and, likely, nothing ever would. The Depths had ordained this land to rest above the ocean, bordering Her expansive bosom, and to drown in Her moist breath. And drown the citizens of this far off land of watercolors did. Today, while apparently no different in the temperament of the great expanse of blue visible from nearly every vantage in the country certainly carried the promises of some excitement.

A short walk had presented itself before the young man treading the path, his ventures having brought him to a small fishing village near the Great Naruto Bridge, a massive eyesore upon the landscape built in ancient times to commemorate the great and foolish Naruto Uzumaki that now stood as some kind of trite representation of international cooperation and friendship amongst the villages. The whole thing rang hollow, falling upon blatantly deaf ears; no one wanted cooperation until they faced certain annihilation. The man paused on his walk, taking in the massive bridge as it extended off to the opposite shore, the land disappearing in a wash of pure white mist. Two solitary figures stood atop the bridge, a ways off but still clearly visible. They stood near one another, both seemingly massive, hulking figures.

The one on the left, a man shorter than his apparent partner by but a hair, moved, his body contracting and his sword flashing in a glint of iron. The larger blue man reacted noticeably, apparently shocked by his companion’s abrupt assault on the bridge, a burst of strength and speed of a caliber easily capable of impressing the commoner who mind find himself passing by. The bridge groaned in unison with the almost deafening roar of the sea, concrete and steel shifting and bending unnaturally. The construct would stand for only a short while longer. What a strange act for the two to commit. Clearly villainous in intent, the motives behind the pair’s actions remained unclear, though the man’s best guess hovered somewhere around this attack deriving from some ill-conceived terrorist attempt. How strange indeed.

The sky darkened, blackness rolling in from above and casting a darker pallor across the entirety of the scene. The Voice had remained uncharacteristically quiet for some time now, offering only the in and out pulls of the Ocean’s breath as any indication of His continued patronage. Still, the deep waves of His consciousness yet vibrated through the man’s body and out into the world. Something felt off, a kind of icy shroud seeping throughout the world, coloring everything with a greyer hue than normal. The Abyss had silently encroached, sucking out the life of the world as It came. No one had taken the time to notice the touch of death that It extended over everything It touched.

The two appeared to banter a bit as they simply stood, remaining mostly still. The larger, bluer man, equipped with his own sword slung across his back and bandaged in the traditional way, plastered a large, white grin upon his face. As they went about their illegal business a loud, annoying man with an afro appeared and immediately began chatting up a storm. The man’s eyes rolled in a frozen wheel, his vision rotating a full turn at the new arrival. A precursory glance told him enough about the new arrival, doubtlessly an idiot and certain to die horribly. He called out a prayer of some sort to his father or something. Somewhere around thirty meters away from the afro wearing fool, the icy man should find himself quite safe from any sort of simplistic form of detection, his chakra levels quelled to those of the mist itself.

While the man continued gesticulating and proclaiming his intentions from an irresponsibly close range another approached from the bridge’s farthest shore, emerging from the mist as he strode out onto the bridge as well. His hands came together in a most rapid fashion, chakra swimming though him as he began his immediate attack upon the two, their backs still facing him as he went. Tee, an ANBU the man had never properly met but whose name he knew by the virtue of the two’s similar occupations. He knew precious little about his fellow warrior but began picking up on a few key details about the ninja’s style as he observed. He seemed rash, a bit on the cold side, and in a terrible mood as of right now, especially considering the rapidity with which he attempted to incapacitate the two foes before him, whipping up a spinning vortex of water in what one could loosely classify as a form of attack.

A sense of deja vu washed over the man.

And then the mist came. It thickened and darkened, obscuring vision for a considerable distance at the request of the ANBU some forty five or more meters away from the man. His eyes rolled about once more, his disdain for the entirety of the situation clearly evident by his face. The scent of burnt paper and cherries stuck with him as silently observed the situation before him, taking in the last of the scene before the mist swallowed the bridge and everyone on it whole. He stood at the cusp of the encroaching gloom, yet undecided when and how he wanted to enter. His ears perked, his nose awoke, his every fiber focused outward, reaching and clawing for any purchase. He would, for a bit at least, observe the current predicament.

The Voice finally stirred as His host stood, relaxed and alert, hands hovering comfortable before him. This is gonna be a shit show.


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