The air was drier than she had anticipated. Makima, standing on a rocky path, gazed at the jagged mountains rising before her like sharpened teeth. The Land of Lightning... or rather, the world of Naruto, she thought, her eyes scanning the horizon.
She had awakened here a week ago. She, Makima, a being who had known absolute control, silent terror, and had found death in a world of demons and chains. To return here, in another reality… What a whim of existence.
"So this is how manga transmigrants feel..." she mused, a slight smile playing on her lips. She remembered the *Naruto manga*, which she occasionally read for entertainment.
"A world of ninjas... A new playground."
She had quietly gathered information, hiding in small villages. A year had passed since the events of *The Last*. Naruto Uzumaki, a hero of peace. Sasuke, the eternal wanderer. She would need to eliminate them; they were the most powerful at the moment. Konoha was too far, and she had no intention of getting entangled in politics.
She was close to Kumo. And truth be told, she hadn't come to observe it.
A falcon soared high in the sky. Through its eyes, she scrutinized the village's surroundings. Military infrastructure, natural defenses, patrolling shinobi... and finally, the administrative building of the Raikage. A robust structure, towering at the village's center, identifiable by its imposing architecture.
"The Raikage… A. A hot-headed man and his brother-in-arms. Can I control them? No. They will die."
She had no intention of negotiating. No interest in meddling in local conflicts. She would take what she wanted: a village, resources, pawns. Peace was nothing more than a calm before her domination.
She launched herself into the air, streaking like a crimson arrow. In mere moments, she crossed the rocky slopes and entered the village's confines.
The sensory barriers detected her immediately.
"Intruder!" cried one of the ninjas, eyes closed in concentration. "A chakra signature? No, this energy is unknown to me and... Powerful…"
"Activate emergency protocols!"
"Which direction?!"
"She's heading toward the Raikage's building!"
Alarms blared throughout the village. Elite Jonin, ANBU, and special squads were deployed. Five minutes. That's how long it took for Kumo's forces to encircle the building, covering rooftops and alleys. Dozens stood ready to fight.
"Has anyone seen the enemy?"
"No, but the pressure is strange… suffocating…"
An experienced Jonin, bandage wrapped around his arm, stepped toward the office entrance.
"I'm going in. Stay in position."
The door creaked softly. A thick, metallic odor assaulted him immediately. And then he saw her.
In the center of the room stood a woman with impeccable red hair, wearing a fitted black coat. Her boots were splattered with purple stains as she stood unperturbed. Beneath her feet lay a mass of flesh, blood, and broken bones. The Raikage A, so powerful, so feared, was now nothing more than a gutted carcass. Beside him, his brother, Killer B, lay in eternal silence, his jaw distorted in a scream he never had time to utter.
The Jonin's gaze rose to meet Makima's eyes. Two golden pupils, cold, indifferent.
"Either you kneel and serve me," she said softly, "or you attack… and I'll kill you. And I'll ensure your families are tortured. Slowly. For days."
A deathly silence fell. The ninjas outside entered the room, most extremely nervous. Not only had she killed the village's two most powerful figures with ease, but there was something in her gaze that was utterly unnatural.
A Jonin slowly backed away, breath short. A trembling hand reached for a kunai.
"Don't do it…" whispered another. In this situation, they should keep their calm and devise a plan.
But he lunged. And in the same second, his head exploded. His body collapsed, spasming, leaving a fountain of blood.
A cry of horror as others were splattered. Since Madara, no one had witnessed such divine power.
Makima walked slowly, her calm steps echoing on the blood-stained tiles, towering over the frozen ninjas.
No one moved.
Makima tilted her head, almost amused.
"I'm quite impatient. My time is precious."
Some stepped back. Others lowered their heads. But no one dared attack.
*It's always the same. Power, fear, the instinct to survive,* she thought.
"What are you…?" dared a brown-skinned kunoichi.
Makima smiled softly.
She turned to her.
"You, what's your name?"
"...K-Karui," she replied.
"I am the new leader of Kumogakure. And you are all my dogs."
An ANBU attempted to sneak behind her. She felt it long before he approached. Without turning her head, she raised a finger. The ninja twisted in the air like a broken doll, his bones snapping one by one in a grotesque symphony. He crashed to the ground, his body unrecognizable.
Makima took another step, then another. She felt submission growing in the air. This world knew no demons. But it would know her.
"If I survived Hell... this world is just a playground."
She raised her arms.
"Those who wish to live, kneel."
A young Chunin, trembling, knelt.
"I... I submit…"
Another followed. Then another. Within seconds, the majority had bowed. But some remained standing, hands clenched, lips pressed, refusing to yield.
Veterans resisted, but the tremors in their hands betrayed them. No one wanted to end up like A. No one wanted their children to die screaming.
Makima observed the scene, satisfied.
"It's enough to show what happens to the recalcitrant."
She turned toward the Raikage's tower. Blood trickled down the steps.
"Clean the building. Burn the bodies. And build me a throne."
She turned, meeting the terrified gaze of a blonde, square-cut Jonin, Samui.
"You'll take me to the cells, the shinobi registers, and the council chamber. I want to know everything about this village. And where is the former Raikage's secretary."
"Uh... Mabui probably took some time off today..." said the blonde.
"Fine... I'll take a bath. You may leave ~"
And as the ninjas scrambled, obeying out of fear, Makima walked toward the corridors, her boots leaving a trail of blood behind her.