All these events, though described at length, actually unfolded in an instant.
When Kakashi coldly uttered those four words, the fate of the Mist shinobi was already sealed.
The colossal beast of blue lightning roared as it descended from the heavens, thunder crashing with terrifying force!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Kirin struck! The impact was cataclysmic!
The velocity was beyond reaction; the Mist-nin had no time to evade.
A storm of devastation unfolded before Kakashi's eyes. The scorched terrain stretched endlessly. The Mist shinobi, once concealed by the thick fog, were now reduced to blackened cinders, their identities indistinguishable.
The earth dragon beneath Kakashi's feet shattered under the force, sending his exhausted body plummeting from above.
Straining to time the Kirin precisely, Kakashi had pushed his Sharingan to its limit. Now, his body had reached its threshold—he lost consciousness.
His left eye, bearing the Sharingan gifted by Obito, deactivated, reverting to a dull grey beneath the Four Symbols Seal, sealing it once more.
The shockwave from the Kirin's landing hurled Kakashi's unconscious body into a narrow river nearby.
The current pulled him away.
From a distance, Shisui had witnessed the celestial descent of thunder and stood stunned. Was that truly a jutsu a human could wield? Kakashi's image in his heart grew even larger, towering like a mountain.
The gap between them felt infinite.
Yet Shisui didn't despair. Instead, his fighting spirit ignited.
"One day… I'll catch up to you, Kakashi-senpai."
He turned back. Given such a fearsome technique, the Mist-nin should be eradicated. It should be safe to return.
But as Shisui arrived on the scorched battlefield, Kakashi was nowhere to be seen.
Only charred corpses littered the ground. The devastation was absolute. No signs of life remained.
"Strange… where did Kakashi-senpai go?"
Bewildered, Shisui began searching the surroundings. Maybe he left first…? But the path he had taken held no trace of Kakashi.
"Please be safe, Senpai," Shisui muttered, glancing once more at the ruined terrain. Staying here is too risky. Reinforcements would certainly arrive, drawn by the massive chakra signature and destruction.
Shisui vanished into the forest.
Moments after his departure, a plant-like figure emerged from the ground. The split form of White Zetsu and Black Zetsu appeared, peeking out.
"Oooh, what a terrifying Lightning Style jutsu… I didn't think Kakashi had this kind of power," White Zetsu muttered.
"As expected from Obito's comrade," Black Zetsu replied, voice cold.
"What do you think Obito would say if he saw Kakashi now?"
"Tell him. He needs to know."
"Heh… that might be fun."
With that, they sank beneath the earth again.
Soon after, a man in a lavender kimono stepped onto the scorched ground. Orochimaru's golden eyes gleamed with fascination.
"What destructive power… Who could it be? Who commands such thunder?"
Suddenly, a knowing smirk crept onto his lips. "Kakashi… it's you, isn't it? How marvelous. I'm looking forward to your evolution even more."
In a place far from the battlefield—dim, cavernous, and filled with massive stone pillars—a man with long hair and a spiral mask sat silently. He gazed into the flowing water beneath him.
Lifting his head, his exposed right eye gleamed red with the Sharingan.
"Kakashi… So you can harness divine power now. You really are a genius—despite not being an Uchiha. What business do you have in Kirigakure? Revenge… for Rin? Tch. You're far too late."
The masked man stood, his black cloak adorned with crimson clouds fluttering despite the stillness.
"Go on, Kakashi. Continue your little ninja games. My plan begins soon. And then… we'll meet again."
With those words, his Sharingan twisted space, forming a spiraling vortex that swallowed his form.
Back in Kirigakure, few knew the truth of what had transpired. Though many had seen the thunder's light, under Yagura's influence—controlled by Obito—the incident was suppressed.
Even the ANBU who later retrieved the charred remains had no answers.
Rumors spread of a devastating technique. But no one knew who had used it.
And Obito ensured the truth never surfaced. Only a few, those who watched closely, suspected anything more.
Meanwhile, Kakashi's unconscious body drifted along the river until it finally washed ashore, long after midnight.
Luckily, his years of rigorous Eight Gates training had forged his body into something formidable. Without that, the current would have crushed him to death.
But even so, Kakashi's condition was dire.
A lone figure wandered near the riverbank—white hair, tattered clothes, mud covering his face.
Kimimaro.
The Kaguya clan had been exterminated. Only Kimimaro remained.
Spotting the collapsed figure, he squinted curiously.
Such a beautiful man.
That was his first thought upon seeing Kakashi.
"Who are you? Why are you lying here?" Kimimaro asked coldly.
Kakashi didn't stir, his eyes still shut.
Kimimaro frowned. "Are you ignoring me?!"
Still no response.
His anger flared. A bone blade extended from his palm—aimed at Kakashi's neck.
Just before it struck, a hand shot up—gripping Kimimaro's wrist tightly.
Startled, Kimimaro turned. Kakashi had awakened.
Even unconscious, years of combat experience had trained his instincts. Sensing the threat, his body moved on its own, narrowly avoiding death.
"…That's not very friendly," Kakashi muttered, sitting up and brushing muddy hair from his eyes. "I didn't offend you, did I?"
"You ignored me."
"Sorry. I passed out."
"Who are you?"
Kakashi gave a half-smile. "More importantly…" He glanced to the trees. "…Orochimaru. Are you coming out?"
From behind the trunk, a deep laugh echoed.
"Hehehe… you really are sharp, Kakashi."
Orochimaru stepped into view, smiling darkly.
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