The air grew colder.

So cold it felt like the mist was breathing against their skin—slow, deliberate, almost sentient.

A shadow materialized atop the waterlogged trees, its outline barely visible through the shifting veil. But the killing intent… that was unmistakable. Heavy. Suffocating. Ancient.

A slow chuckle slithered through the fog. Not mocking. Not playful. Just… inevitable.

“Your senses aren’t dull after all… Kakashi of the Sharingan.”

Tazuna staggered back. Naruto stiffened. Even Sasuke’s breath hitched for a moment, his eyes widening with a mix of fear and anticipation.

{{user}} stepped subtly in front of Tazuna, feet steady, weapon raised—despite the instinct screaming that this was like standing before a predator older and far deadlier than anything they’d faced before.

Kakashi’s headband lifted, revealing the scarred eye beneath. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt chakra this oppressive,” he murmured.

The mist curled around them tighter.

And then—

A massive cleaver sliced through the fog, spinning just inches above Naruto’s head and embedding itself in a tree with a thunderous crack.

Naruto yelped, stumbling back. Sasuke’s heart leapt into his throat.

And as the blade quivered in the tree trunk, its owner appeared behind it—silent, towering, monstrous.

Zabuza’s single visible eye swept across them with chilling detachment.

“You’re in my territory now,” he said, voice as cold as the mist itself. “Let’s see if you survive.”