Naruto: Rise of the Fallen Princess

The retreat of the Shinigami left a bitter taste in Michel's soul, a phantom ache that refused to vanish. Yet he had no time to ponder the cryptic weight of the Shinigami's final words. His form vanished in a streak of silver light, rematerializing before the cocoon that held Hinata and Mitsue.

As the cocoon opened at his touch, Michel's breath caught in his throat.

Inside, Hinata lay suspended between life and death. Her body was barely clinging to the spiritual threads Mitsue had so desperately woven. The serpent's coils trembled with the effort of maintaining the healing chakra—her tail wrapped protectively around Hinata's form, her eyes unfocused, dazed. The damage Hinata had sustained to arrive here... it was beyond comprehension. And yet, impossibly, both she and Mitsue existed physically in Yumegakure—a world that had never permitted corporeality before. Was this a shift in the fabric of Yumegakure, or something else entirely?

Michel's thoughts dissolved under the urgency of the moment. Without hesitation, he summoned his silver threads, lifting Hinata and Mitsue gently from the cocoon. As he turned, a blur descended from above. Kaito, having scaled the exterior of the Crystal Tower with fearless urgency, launched himself from its edge and crashed through the skylight in a fluid, purposeful motion. His presence hit the ground with the momentum of desperation, urgency radiating from his every step.

His eyes found Hinata—and his soul nearly shattered.

Michel could see it: the tether between Kaito and Shinsei pulsing with intensity. It was so powerful it almost seemed as though Kaito could resurrect himself then and there by merely touching her blade. He could feel the bond tugging at both of them. And yet, Kaito's focus was entirely on her—on Hinata—on how to save her.

Before either man could speak, Mitsue's weakened voice rasped:

"No... I c-can't hold it much longerrr... I need... help... now."

Kaito moved instantly, gathering both Hinata and Mitsue in his arms with practiced care. His voice trembled but carried unshakable resolve.

"Michel-sama, open a portal—to the Silver Node where Konoha manifested in Yumegakure. There are medics still stationed there. They… they are our last hope."

Michel inhaled deeply, silver threads swirling around him with calm precision. His fury faded, replaced by clarity, and for a brief moment, he felt it—Yumegakure itself responding to his intent. The realm, attuned to his soul and burdened efforts, offered its silent support. Though his spirit was fractured, only a quarter of his soul remaining whole, the world bent slightly for him. With its aid, he managed to weave a portal not merely to one of the Silver Nodes, but directly to where he needed to go. The tear in space shimmered like moonlight, manifesting at the threshold of Konoha's hospital within its mirrored reflection in Yumegakure.

"I will send Reika and Kenshiro. They may be able to help as well," Michel said, voice quiet but firm.

<<<< o >>>>

The Konoha Hospital within Yumegakure was not a place of frantic emergencies. Here, time had slowed, offering medical minds the gift of reflection. The facility, once bustling in the real world, had become a sanctuary—where doctors honed their craft without the constant burden of imminent death.

That peace shattered the moment the portal ignited.

Kaito emerged with urgency, cradling a broken princess and her guardian serpent.

The chief medical officer, who had spent the evening in quiet review of new chakra infusion models, stood abruptly when he recognized the approaching figure.

Kaito—the one who had orchestrated the massive efforts to manage the arrival of thousands into Yumegakure. A name respected by all who understood the logistical chaos he had calmed.

Now he burst through the entrance, holding a young woman whose face stirred recognition in the doctor's mind. And atop her—smaller now, but still undeniably present—rested a serpent the doctor remembered from tales. Mitsue.

The serpent's tail twitched as her body trembled, still maintaining a continuous Mystical Palm jutsu, focused entirely on the girl beneath her. That alone revealed the girl's identity.

"Doctor! Please! Help them, or they'll die! And if they die here… they won't come back!" Kaito's voice cracked with desperation.

The doctor's response was immediate. "All medics! Emergency response, now! Drop everything!"

His hands blurred through seals, summoning a shadow clone that materialized beside him. "Get her on the main table! Now!"

Kaito obeyed without hesitation. As Hinata was lowered, the doctor moved quickly, his hands pulsing with chakra. His clone addressed Mitsue, who, finally finding someone to lean on, relaxed—and collapsed.

Within moments, more staff arrived. The room transformed.

"Don't just stand there—prep the surgical room! We've got two patients, critical! And someone bring Lady Tsunade. We're going to need her. Now!"

For the first time since its construction, Konoha Hospital in Yumegakure thrummed with the urgency of life and death.

<<<< o >>>>

Within the endless grayscale of the Pure Lands, where color was unnecessary and order reigned supreme, the Shinigami Supervisor materialized in silence. The dimension around him conformed to his presence—monotone, absolute, unbending. Here, directives were law. Doubt did not exist. And now that the land of violation had revealed itself fully… he could act.

The guardian of that land was formidable. But ultimately, he was bound to it. He would become its prison as much as its heart. And the souls contained within—so many—would one day return to the cycle. The Supervisor would see to it.

With a thought, he vanished again, reappearing in the central node of administration, the sanctum where records of soulflow and system stability were stored. His gaze passed over the projected data:

SOULFLOW REDIRECTION: 68% AND RISING.

SACRED SOULS 10 AND 11: ACTIVE INTERFERENCE DETECTED.

NATURAL ENERGY FLOW: DEGRADED.

SYSTEM HARMONIC: FLUCTUATING. HOST-PARASITIC SYMBIOSIS SUSPECTED.

The Supervisor's expression darkened.

"The anomaly absorbs like a parasite. It consumes its host without awareness. The anomaly persists... mutating."

He recalled the battle—the constructs summoned by the Guardian. Created from nothing. Mirroring Shinigami. Functionally divergent, yet conceptually aligned.

"They have an army," he said. "Constructs made of will and belief. The Guardian can manifest warriors from dreams… I have Shinigami. But not all are useful in this new war."

He turned toward the chamber of sealed names.

"Fortunately, there are many volunteers who have never left these lands. Warriors forged in older fires—when strength was purpose, and conflict was truth. From before the era of Hidden Villages. They shall serve again."

A pulse echoed outward.

Across the Pure Lands, Shinigami units received new instructions. Beneath the halls of stasis, ancient warriors—souls suspended in limbo—were roused. Consciousness sparked in them once more. Forgotten clans. Lost legends. Revived not fully, but partially—just enough to stand, to fight.

A war was coming. Not among the living.

A war of the dead, led by Shinigami, would soon strike at Yumegakure.

And as the wheel of fate spun faster, diverging into shapes never foreseen, the mortal world could only pray… and dream… for a favorable outcome.