Konan stood in front of Nagato, her body tense, eyes filled with dread. Her paper wings spread wide, hundreds of sharp-edged sheets floating in the air around her like blades waiting to strike. She didn't speak, she didn't need to. Her message was clear: she would not let Hajime reach him.
Hajime, standing amidst the ruin Nagato's own attack had caused, didn't flinch. Dust and ash clung to his silver-grey armor, but it remained untouched. Not a scratch, not a dent. The golden halo behind him glowed faintly, flickering like a divine sigil in the shadows.
Konan attacked first. Paper whirled around Hajime, slicing through the air. Blades, needles, spears, and spikes of paper flew at him with deadly precision. They struck with speed and fury, but did nothing. Each one hit his halo's shield or bounced harmlessly off his armor.
He walked forward, slow and steady.
Her attacks grew more desperate. The rain, mixed with chakra, turned some of her papers to hardened spears. Still nothing stopped him. Not even the paper storm that once cut through steel.
With each heavy footstep, Hajime advanced like a force of nature. His visor glowed a chilling blue under the rain-filled gloom, never blinking, never wavering.
Nagato, breath shallow and skin pale, groaned as he raised his shaking hand. He poured what little strength he had left into another Shinra Tensei. The walls cracked again. Wind burst outward. Konan braced herself. Machines were crushed. The support beams rattled.
But Hajime didn't budge.
The blast slammed into him, and dissolved.
He took another step. The floor cracked beneath his armored foot.
"No..." Konan whispered.
Nagato tried to rise. His fingers curled, lips trembling.
"You... don't understand..." he gasped.
Hajime was already in front of him.
Without a word, Hajime raised his hand slowly, his palm glowing faintly. Konan's body moved on its own, flinging herself between them.
But she was too slow.
Hajime's hand hovered just inches from Nagato's face. Konan froze, her eyes wide in horror.
Suddenly
A hand reached from the ground, aiming for Hajime's shoulder. Kamui's distortion swirled, and Obito phased in silently to warp him away.
But Hajime struck.
He didn't turn.
He didn't look.
He punched directly behind himself, clean and brutal, as if he had seen it all before. Like he knew exactly where Obito would emerge.
The blow landed squarely into Obito's chest, snapping his body backward with a crack of metal and flesh. Time seemed to slow. Obito's breath vanished. He was sent flying through the room, crashing into a wall with bone-jarring force, rolling across the floor.
The Kamui flickered, disrupted.
Konan gasped.
Obito groaned, pushing himself up from the ground, his cloak torn and body trembling.
Hajime finally turned to face him, calm as ever. The visor glinted with pale blue light as rainwater dripped from the edges of his armor.
"So," Hajime said coolly, his voice low and even. "You were the one who attacked the Fourth Hokage and Kushina. Uchiha Obito."
Obito stiffened.
Hajime had named him with absolute certainty.
"That's impossible," Obito muttered. "There's no way you could know that."
He tried to hide it with a cold chuckle, shifting into the persona of Madara Uchiha.
"Obito? No… I am Madara Uchiha."
Hajime stepped forward.
Obito instinctively began backing up, his Sharingan eye flickering. He was afraid. Genuinely.
Konan knelt beside Nagato, her hands trembling as she tried to stop the bleeding. Nagato's breath was shallow. His skin had turned almost white.
Hajime didn't rush. He didn't need to. His steps were slow and powerful, the ground echoing with each one.
Obito looked at him, and for the first time in years, he didn't feel like a ghost or a god. He felt hunted.
The silver knight didn't speak again. He didn't need to.
—To Be Continued—
Ps. If you like this story, check out my new novel [Ding! The Ultramarine Joined the Group Chat]