Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Avatar: The Last Airbender. All rights belong to their respective owners.

XXX

Stormy black and gray clouds tormented the sky and moved slowly over the darkened valley, angrily growing darker and more menacing. The sky wept as its tears fell on the landscape, flooding and pounding the valley in endless rain that seemed inexorable. At the heart of the valley where two borders met, separated by factions and countries, laws and territories, a large river divided the land. The labyrinthine river splintered the land and a waterfall, the dividing point between the Land of Fire and the Land of Sound, pounded with the rhythm of thunder. The waterfall roared as water fell and hit the rocks below violently and pooled into the wide river below. The water came down in a fury, raging, hurtling into the river as if angry – angry at the world; angry at the feud; angry at the end of bonds and friendships. Indeed, the very river knew of hardship as it was the legacy, the creation, of Konoha's former leaders.

Besides the waterfall, on both sides, carved heavily and sadly into the cliff stood two imposing statues. Statues weathered and beaten, aged and tormented, by the rolling eras remained since its inception the symbol (and the warning!) for shinobi of the Land of Fire. They were Konoha's strongest, their brightest and most revered leaders, Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama. They were each other's dearest friends and hated enemies.

The statues carved in there shinobi regalia posed, with two fingers in front, as if to mold chakra. Their hand signs were in the Seal of Confrontation, the universal sign for all shinobi to begin battle. Madara on the left side of the rock formation, with his left hand, had his index finger touching his middle and his ring and pinky fingers curled tightly. His thumb touched the proximal phalanx of his curled middle finger. Hashirama, on the right side, with his right hand, imitated the same seal. They stared at each other as the wind howled and the rain pelted and flowed down their rocky bodies. Lightning flashed in the gray and black sky and their stony faces became graver and more terrible. Their battle still continued.

For below them, in the valley that they created in a blistering and searing battle of wills and ideology was another similar confrontation. The statues watched silently the struggle of their descendants' battle against each other, repeating the same cycle of events that led to their own schism.

At the feet of Uchiha Madara, one of the last of the Uchiha, Uchiha Sasuke, glowered at his best friend. The black-haired youth was no longer recognizable, his features inhuman. He coveted a madman's power and his dark thoughts of revenge twisted and festered transforming him into a demonic personification of his hatred. His light skin darkened when Orochimaru's curse seal of heaven engulfed him in black flames. His black hair stretched and lengthened, turning a dark shade of blue.

From his back, two large webbed-claw-shaped wings protruded, ugly and deformed. A black four-pointed-star mark settled between his eyes and on the bridge of his nose. Rage and hatred so deep boiled in his red eyes, the Sharingan; and his sclerae were dyed a fathomless black. His blue lips snarled before curving into a menacing smile. The smile was cruel and final.

"Let's end this, Naruto!" Sasuke growled.

Anger was beckoning to him. He could feel it; feel Orochimaru's and his own newly awakened power coarse through him, fueling him to rid this pathetic bond, this friendship! The power felt wonderful, and kept bubbling ever so closely to the surface. A sadistic glee pulsed in him. With this power he could take on his brother – no! – kill his brother, Uchiha Itachi, and avenge the death of his clan. All that was left was to discard this friendship, his new ties, his treasured bond, with his best friend.

He glared at Naruto thoughtfully, resolutely and, finally, hatefully. Without him, he would have never experienced this power. He was incredibly grateful towards him, but he was realistic. His brother had told him to fully awaken the power of the Sharingan, to gain eyes like his and confront him; he would have to kill his closest bond.

He was on the cusp of that new awakening, and Naruto was the barrier between his old world and his new darker path: the avenger. His best friend. His enemy. As members of Team 7, under Kakashi-sensei's lead, they had grown and fought together, however, it was not enough for Sasuke. He wanted more, he needed more! Itachi had taught him that lesson well, putting Sasuke into coma via Tsukiyomi. While in Tsukiyomi, the Uchiha Massacre barreled into his being relentlessly, until, sadly, that was all he could focus on. Nothing mattered but his ambition, his goal.

Anger ruled the child. When Itachi discarded him like trash for Naruto that set him off. And when he saw Naruto's improving strength, his heart and his success, inferiority darkened and ravaged his mind. He would not be denied of his new strength, his power. He would destroy anyone that opposed him, friends and enemies alike.

The time for change came and another flash of lightning and roaring of thunder indicated Sasuke's grim decision. He was ready, finally, to end this fight.

"Naruto, this battle has come to an end. It's time!" Sasuke roared, and the sound of thunder reverberated in the valley, beating with his heart, feeding his growing anticipation.

"Fate has called, Naruto!" – Another rumble of thunder came like the sound of war drums – "And I won't let you be a growing hindrance to my ambition," he said darkly. The boy lips curved into a grin turning his face monstrous.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, the Sharingan glowing red and sinister, matching the deadliness of Orochimaru's eyes. Sasuke widened his stance and crouched. His hands moved into the familiar seals of his next technique, taught to him by Kakashi-sensei. His clawed, left hand came outward and away from his body. He could feel the energy building and flowing, sending him further into darkness. It also caused him great pain. He had to finish this; there was no turning back!

Chakra gathered into his hand and manifested outward, becoming uncontrollable and violent. The blue chakra danced wildly like lightning, untamable, like his heart and soul. The power encompassed his whole hand, brightly shining in his face. Sasuke looked to his foe, his friend, waiting for his answer.

On the other side, underneath Senju Hashirama's statue, Naruto, wrapped in his monstrous red, boiling cloak, faced downward. The cloak rippled and churned, moving like it had a mind of its own. Two ears and a tail swayed softly around him, protecting him. He widened his stance, his head still facing the dirty, rocky ground.

The cloak, as if sensing his intentions, became aggravated, and power simmered, flying into the air. Sasuke watched carefully as Naruto's head eased up. His ocean blue eyes now red, his pupils slit and infused with the demon's red chakra, burned. Naruto's red eyes displayed all his pain, suffering, bonds, tears, and determination. His cheek marks deepened and darkened like thick, furry whiskers. Naruto bared his fanged teeth in aggression and defiance. He looked animalistic. Inwardly, Sasuke chuckled humorlessly. They were both monsters, the nascent and amalgamation of Konoha's odious past – their dark secrets swept under the rug that had just begun its ascent out of darkness.

He brought his right clawed-hand up still cloaked in red chakra and a shimmering and spinning blue light formed. The light spun faster and faster until it was a dense blue ball. The red chakra seeped into the ball, fusing the two chakras into an ominous purple.

"Rasengan!" yelled Naruto, fury and rage and determination apparent on his feral face.

That's it Naruto, thought Sasuke, the time is here. Sasuke's electrified hand turned black and frightening. Black lightning spiraled out of control, raging and climbing and arching. The cries of a thousand birds echoed with the crushing sound of the waterfall in dissonance.

The two rivals stared at each other, surrendering themselves to their passions and fate's call. The storm clouds as if waiting for this final moment from the two souls released a lightning bolt that struck the middle of the waterfall. Water and rock exploded and blasted into the air. As if sensing the call of their destiny, Naruto and Sasuke jumped.

"Naruto!"

"Sasuke!"

The Chidori met the Rasengan in an explosion of color. Streams of power of collided as black and purple, blue and red, swirled around them. The colors mixed and a large purple ball enveloped the two fighters and expanded outwards, encompassing the waterfall and the statues. The legs crumbled and shattered from the sheer power, and the water dissipated as the pulsating ball continued to grow.

Inside the ball, in the white space of another dimension, the two continued to fight. Sasuke stared at Naruto. Naruto stared at Sasuke. The two shinobi could feel their own and each other's heart beats. In a flash of motion, Sasuke's electrified hand pierced Naruto in the chest, while in retaliation, Naruto's hand scratched Sasuke's Konoha forehead protector.

The two shinobi's duel was over. And as the light grew brighter, their eyes lower, fatigue taking over, Sasuke watched in horror as swirling light enveloped and wrapped around Naruto in a cocoon until he melded with the white background.

Outside the ball the white swirling light ebbed away the purple. The white light shined brighter and intense and glaring like a small sun. Then, suddenly, it was gone, like it never existed. However, Sasuke remained, his hands and knees on the ground, staring blankly at the waterfall. Pain ripped through him, a consequence of Orochimaru's power, and he collapsed to the ground panting, blood leaking from his mouth and pooling on the wet ground. The rain became heavier, like the sorrows in his heart, and he wondered remorsefully, almost regretfully, if he did the right thing, as Naruto was nowhere to be seen.

XXX

Luk Xiu looked to the sky in surprise from his wagon. A swarm of dark and gray clouds moved eerily in his direction. The clouds were eating the blue sky, as if to consume all daylight in its angry path. Thunder beckoned and lightning flashed in an age old dance of fury.

A roar of thunder clapped in the woods, like the sound of a loud gong, the echoes reverberating to a crescendo before falling silent, waiting, once more, to commence the age-old action. The sound scared birds from their nests. They took off in large flocks, headed toward the distance, where the remaining blue sky lay free and untroubled.

The sound rattled his ears, and he nearly covered them to protect his hearing. He feared he would go deaf. Another loud noise caught his attention. His ostrich-horse wailed anxiously, afraid of the pounding thunder that shook the ground and pierced the once quiet air. The beast scrambled in place, its horse-like head flailing in fear.

Xiu pulled harshly on the reins to the halt the creature's erratic movements. When the beast calmed enough, he gently rubbed its head. The ostrich horse-breathing slowed and he could feel the animal, still alert, calm at his ministrations.

"That's a good girl," Xiu said, continuing to pet the animal affectionately. He returned a glance at the sky; the darkened clouds were now hovering over him, bringing a harsh wind with it.

The wind howled. The trees fell in rhythm with the winds, the branches and leaves gusting vigorously. The wind was cold and it clawed at his exposed face. The wind also brought the smell of rain, which proved that he needed to rush home before the downpour began. Luckily, to save him from the rain his conical straw hat remained firm and fastened to his balding head.

He tapped the sides of the animal with his knees. The animal ran quickly, its two, tall avian feet stomping the ground. The pace was quick and the green trees blurred behind him.

To Xiu the weather was unexpected, almost inexplicable. From his travel east to a small village near the ocean, for supplies for his farm, the weather was very favorable – deep blue skies and warm sweet air traveled with him, the beginnings of spring, to the village and back; but the sudden occurrence of stormy weather brought bad omens for the land.

The forest was deathly silent now (besides the continual blistering wind and the flailing branches of the trees) and the fleeing animals were nowhere in sight. He wondered if the spirits were coming for retribution. He had heard stories of dark spirits attacking travelers and bringing devastation to the land. Stories came from Senlin and all over the Earth Kingdom. It would not surprise him if was the result from the impudence of the firebenders razing the land in their conquest for domination; land protected by the spirits.

The ostrich horse-galloped to large incline and charged up the hill. Xiu gripped the reins and leaned forward. The wind came with the rain and blew on his face. He wiped some of the water off with his sleeve. He was almost at the summit when a flash of yellow light struck the earth before him. The earth quaked and his steed nearly lost its balance, swaying side to side. He gripped the reins tightly as the frightened animal floundered, nearly tripping over its own legs.

A bright light blinded him. The colors swirled in a dance of light from the heavens. The sight was ethereal, the swirling light turning golden, storming down from the heavens as if to curse the land. When the earth finally stilled and the thunder silenced, he looked forward. A cloud of smoke and dust gathered at the summit. Reining in his steed, he motioned forward; the ostrich horse took a few hesitant steps toward the summit. When Xiu reached the summit, he gasped in awe – and fright, for it was a terrifying sight to behold for the middle-aged farmer.

A crater as large as a small pond blocked his path. The dirt from the edges of the center crumbled and fell into the center of impact. The surrounding trees were down, splintered and on fire, swiftly consuming the debris.

Xiu uneasily got off his beast, holding the reins tightly. The cloud finally dispersed, the wind moving it to the east. He walked to the edge and looked down to see the mystery that fell from the crying sky.

"Were the spirits up to no good," he thought cautiously. Was this a punishment for a sin he had committed?

There in the center of the crater was a boy no more than twelve-or thirteen-years. He was motionless in the dirt. Thick and spiky golden hair sat on his head and splayed into the dirt. A forehead band with a symbol of leaf covered his head. From below the forehead protector, his whiskered face (three on each side of his cheeks) was deathly still, his lips just parting. His face was wet from the rain.

The boy's hair to his outfit was strange - maybe more eccentric. An orange and shredded jacket clung to his lithe frame. His metal mesh-shirt underneath his jacket had a large hand sized hole (which was also through the jacket) on his right chest. Numerous holes covered his pants. Surprisingly, the boy's sandaled, blue shoes were sturdy and a little scuffed but intact and whole.

Xiu thought he might be dead; to survive such a crash unhurt seemed impossible, falling from an immeasurably tall height. However, watching the boy, he could, just barely, see his chest rise and fall through his torn orange jacket. He got closer; releasing his wet leather reins he slide down the crater.

The downpour lessened to a drizzle, and the water rolled down the boy's face. He looked very young in the rain with the backdrop of stormy clouds above him. Water gathered around him, pooling and wetting the ground into slimy mud.

Xiu wondered why he was here. He was all too aware that the spirits were crafty but this seemed odd: it was not unheard of for strange happenstance to occur, though; they never happened around him.

He gave a rough sigh. He could not leave the boy alone here, to die in the rain – or, if the Fire Nation, too, saw this event, he was sure that they would seize the boy. Making his decision, he gathered the boy in his arms and walked toward his ostrich-horse. The animal looked at him curiously, noting the boy in his arms. He gave the animal a curt nod and placed to boy inside his wagon.

"We better get out of this storm before the water leaves us cold." He hopped on to his steed and they rushed off on the muddy road, the wagon bumbling behind him on the uneven ground.