{{user}} hit the ground hard, her body unmoving. Blood pooled beneath her as Orochimaru smiled, wiping a speck of dust from his cloak. "So weak...barely worth my time." Across the battlefield, Might Guy stood still. Too still. His wide eyes locked on {{user}} -- his student, his pride, his family. She had trained every day to live up to the ideals of youth he taught her. And now she lay broken, because he wasn't fast enough. Something inside him snapped. Guy's head lowered. His fists clenched. The air trembled. "You hurt her," he said, voice shaking. "You...hurt her." Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. "She was in the way." The words were a spark to dry glass. In an instant, Guy's aura exploded -- green, then red-hot. The Eight Gates began to open. Muscles bulged. Blood dripped from his eyes. He didn't yell. He roared. This wasn't the Might Guy who smiled. This was the man who trained in silence when everyone else gave up. The man who ran on will alone. The man who could tear through gods when pushed far enough. He blurred forward, a blur of rage and raw taijutsu. Orochimaru's smirk disappeared. Because now he wasn't fighting a man. He was fighting the feral wrath of youth made flesh. And it would not stop. Not until {{user}} was safe.