“You know, there’s probably a model of this out there somewhere.  Something similar to this ongoing between a bunch of people.”

“Well because-  You know the whole yin and yang thing right?  For something to happen, the conditions must be brought together to make it so, and when something is sacrificed, a contrary something will manifest.”

Enigma frowned, “Don’t they teach…” His eyes drifted open, revealing the dilapidated cellar, “Oh, another lucid dream.”  Propping himself up on a bed of moss he huffed, “Welp, thats the end of that trip.”

Meanwhile - Leaf intelligence department.

“I get that manpower is tight right now, but that mission was about a solution.  A way to give every member of the corps a leg up.  I just can’t imagine the Hokage would pass that up.”

The mission desk official sighed, “With how personally involved with the project, I’m surprised you don’t know already.”  Setting the documents aside they rounded on the chunin and pushed them into an empty room.

In a hushed voice they added, “You know that the project manager was a jonin right?”

“Yes.  Last I checked, the guy is still around.”

“He was the lucky one.  Most of his inner circle were chunin and special jonin.  Every able bodied ninja was sent to confront the Kyubi.  Only three, including the project head, made it back alive.”

It was a cold hard stake.  A part of him had held out hope that - as murky as the situation was - there might be something to salvage.  But it was all in his head.  The ninja were being reined in near to the breaking point.  Of course the verdict was sound.

On top of that, “Two team leaders down from twelve, each dealing with sensitive and classified information.   Four civilian contacts who were only complicit as they needed to be.  It’s a lost cause, even if it was a noble one.”

The official went silent for a moment, then, without another word, stepped out and left with their documentation.

“Dammit!” The chunin balled his fist, “What else did that fox take from us?”

The leaf chunin were sent on survey and scouting missions.  More often reassuring the public than assessing damages.  They were spread thin.  Scouring the land for spies or intruders, and ensuring that the border was secure.

It cost them precious time and resources, and reduced the amount of missions they could fill for the time being.  Needless to say, when smoke started rising from a secluded patch of wilderness, word got around.

It was a gift of chance, that the disheartened chunin caught wind of the search on his way out of the tower.   Being familiar with the area, he manage to sway a spot on the team.  It was doubtful that anything would come of visiting the camp, but it would serve some twisted logic to ensure their secrets stayed out of foreign hands.

Half a day’s travel later, a sense of dread set it.  Part of him was awestruck, that the smoke rising from the forest was coming from exactly where he remembered the camp to be.  So soon after being abandoned, it was an unthinkable coincidence.

“C’mon” The leader called, “Get into position and form a perimeter.  Relay any findings back to the rally point.  Do not, under any circumstances, engage alone.”

“Right!” A chorus replied, before splitting off into the treetops.

And search they did.  The platoon went over the surrounding forest with a fine tooth comb, finding nothing but a freshly thrashed deer trail.

Steadily, they crept into position around the camp.  Chunin 1 couldn’t believe it was just one person.  Armor on one arm, a cloak that screamed genjutsu, and kit that looked like it came strait out of a Daimyo’s pockets.

The only problem was…

It was a kid.

A waist high child trailing smoke for all the world to see.  No self respecting ninja would bring that on themselves.

So, either a Daimyo’s nephew, or an awful trap.  Chunin 1 disrupted his chakra repeatedly to assure there were no illusions in place.  Now, with a full platoon in place, a cold hard focus set it.

Another leapt down from the treeline.  Steaming chakra in the event that the ‘boy’ set a trap, yet raising a placating gesture without missing a beat.

It was all but awkward.  The entire platoon sat camped around the treeline while a spokesman put on a show meant for civilians.  It would be weird if they had to see a kid back to their parents, but they were all used to it one way or another.

A lame what if.  A dial started ticking on the boy’s arm.  This close they could see what looked like a high explosive strapped to his arm.  The platoon erupted into motion.

Enigma

For a brief moment, the strange man seemed disappointed.  Without a word of warning, he lunged.  Fast.

Deft movements homed in on my arm.  Weaving toward key points in my compact.  I turned to the side.  Pivoting so my right settled behind my left, and bringing my torso between him and the offending arm.

There was a lull.  The distance between us carried over.  Then the man lunged again.  His form dissolved, prioritizing the device over the one standing in his way.  I turned my head as he grabbed my shoulder.  Getting one last good look at his posture in the corner of my eye.

Then the world blurred before my eyes.  I sank into a low stance.  Swinging one leg out and up, and hopping on that same foot.  My posture revolved around keeping my left hand between me and the guy, then I switched tacts.

The moment I could tell where he was again, I brough my right arm in and around my chest, raising it below the mans guard.

There was a tug.  Torsion ripped down my side, locking my muscles like a transmission chain and lifting my left leg off the ground.

The guy was flung to the side, and I was pushed back.  A shockwave struck like an airbag.

I drew my right arm down to my waist, and my left arm up an a wave.  My feet were rooted to the ground in the opposite direction.  The stone slab dusted beneath my feet.

He wasn’t alone.  From the moment his expression changed a myriad of shadows moved in the background.  They danced into the clearing now.  Green, black, red, white.  The one thing they had in common though was a plate with a knotted teardrop engraved into it.

I centered myself.  The difference between on man and ten.  I brought my arms out and hammered them down toward my hips.  Legs shoulder width apart.  I squared off against my impression, gathered my chakra and set my core ablaze.  Strength rippled out through each limb as I timed their approach.

One rushed, trying the same thing as the one before.  A second backed him up, looking to interfere as needed.

I had a rough angle.  Moving my center of mass so that my line of sight and blind spots would contain exactly half of them.  I watched the first hand approach.  I checked his shoulder, and then his face for tells.  I waited for my reaction.  To now exactly which of his priorities mattered and in what order.

I answered.  Swinging the gauntlet about, playing keep away like a bully.  I feinted and jumped back against his outstretched arm.  Using the space inside his guard to regard a series of pressure points and arresting his inside arm.

With a quick shimmy, I changed my position beneath his extend arm and whipped against his form.  Then the moment his posture changed, I rammed my palms into his torso.

He leapt back, stumbles and then collapsed.  Spazing out of phase.

The second came up, and measured the distance between us.  I leapt the instant after he did, Switching between attack and defense on a hair trigger and blasting down the brunt of his chakra, throttling his intent.  Two down.  A third was closing in, but he paused, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

I reigned in my temper, checking my neck and shoulders for strain, and did my damndest to keep my bearings in order, “Hell no!  Thanks for asking.” He can talk, but that won’t change what happened to me.

The guy didn’t move.  The three around him settled into a tentative formation.  The rest I couldn’t see all that well, so I guaged him carefully.  Tunnel vision blacked out the area around him.  My sense of balance and touch climbed exponentially as I prepared to rely heavily on sound.  My teeth ached in apprehension.

The air passed over my left arm, and I followed it with a respective breath.  I let the conflict fade to the back of my mind.  Retreating like a beast into it’s cave.

A childlike curiosity replaced it, “I’m not here because I want to be, or because I have something o hide.  Make no mistake, I will defend myself when attacked.”

“And what was that just now?” Another asked.

Chunin 1 raised an arm for silence, “Lay down your arms.  That machine on your wrist.  We have no quarrel with you otherwise.”

I furrowed my brow.  Rasing a hand unconsciously to graze the computer, “I can’t do that.”

The chunin tilted his head slightly, “And why is that?”

I paused for a moment, wondering how to say it, “I’ve kept this with me my whole life.  It’s a precious keepsake, protects me, as much from myself as others.  I cannot, especially in a situation like this, allow myself to part with it.”

Movement in the corner of my eye.  I found one of the ninja rolling a blade between his fingers.

I added, “I would not ask you to disarm yourselves, and I’m want for information.”

“Can you identify yourself for us?”

I frowned, “I doubt that.  Other than my name, I have little that you wouldn’t be inclined to take from me.”

“Let’s start with name and place of origin.”

I shrugged, “Enigma.  I’m a tinkerer from the royal valley.”

Chunin 1 frowned, “You work for the daimyo?”

I cocked my head, “I have no idea who that is.”

“And I’ve never heard of a royal valley.”

“Well-” I sigh, “That’s saying something.  Where did you say you were from?”

Chunin 1 gestures to his forehead, “The hidden leaf village.”

I split the difference between groaning and laughing, “Well this is a vicious cycle.  Either some brand new settlement popped up in the boonies, or I’m on the wrong continent.  How much is that supposed to mean to me?”

Chunin one placed his hands by his sides, “I think you need to come with us.”

I bobbed my head, “I’d appreciate that.  One problem.”

“What’s that?”

I raised my fingers toward the sky, “I can’t fly like you people.”