Author's Note 1: Hey, everybody, look! A new chapter, and it's NOT been over a year! It's been... well, two weeks (13 days) since I finished with the last chapter- and of course, I found 3 more errors (typos) since then, because I asked my beta to hurry. Ah, well. I'll probably be posting this at the 30-day mark, more or less. Or maybe when I get it back from my beta.

Anyone else want to go over the next (or remaining) chapters before they get posted for accuracy / typos? And have a good eye for them?

Also, as always, thanks for every review, favorite, and like, and thanks to my (current and hopefully remaining because two is better) beta reader, Mouse. Enjoy!

Chap. 66 At Midnight

Perhaps Historians, in later years, would consider it fortuitous,or a sign of fate's hand, or even the will of the gods themselves that, precisely at the stroke of midnight, the gaunt, thin man mused to himself, his reign as the world's living god began.

Or, perhaps they would think it merely coincidence.

In truth, it was neither.

The ninja once known as Uzumaki Nagato smiled grimly as his broken body climbed into the control unit of the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path once more.

Once again, as had long been his custom, the ninja now known as "Kami", or, to those less reverent, "Pein", had spent an hour that morning, Sun's Day, showing the good people of Amegakure exactly that: the Sun.

The tradition had begun as a demonstration of his power. For some reason unbeknownst to all but Pein himself, it always rained in Ame. It had for his whole life, and that of his grandparents, and theirs, and so on.

But he knew why.

And, once a week since adopting the mantle of Pein, he had ended the rains for one day a week.

His people had reason to worship him as a god.

Not that he, the shinobi once called Nagato, believed he was one. No, not that. A reincarnation, perhaps, of a greater, more powerful man, the original Sage of Six Paths, perhaps.

If that, then the third such version and second reincarnation.

He knew, of course, that his most loyal friend, Konan, believed he was demented enough to truly think he was the only real Kami in the world.

But Nagato did not believe any such thing.

No, he believed there was no Kami. How could any divine being inflict so much horror on anything, much less what scriptures from around the world nearly universally agreed was their favored creation, mankind?

How could they inflict mankind on itself?

He was here, now, though.

Here to show them a better way.

He did not want to destroy mankind.

He hated the very idea.

No, Nagato wanted to destroy about... half.

That would do.

Show those that remained the true, real cost of war.

Of suffering.

An eye for an eye, after all, leaves a blind world...

"I wonder," he wheezed out loud as the last of the clasps on his right arm tightened, securing him in place, "if that is the reason that mankind has been blind for so long..."

"What's that, Nagato?" Konan asked, walking quietly into the room, the wheezing breath of her chest significantly louder than her soft, geta-clad feet.

"Nothing," he murmured, "Welcome home. Is it done, then?"

As she walked into his view, Konan shook her head, "Not quite. I couldn't find Yahiko's cousin, I don't think he's in Ootori right now. I still can't maintain myself in a single tag for more than a few hours, and I had to come back. I... I did meet Sensei, though."

"Ah," Nagato nodded sagely, allowing his tired eyelids to drift shut, leaving the only light in the room to be the much reflected light from the red light above the exit door at the back of the statue's neck, "I thought you might. I watched a part of the battle. You did well."

Konan frowned, but nodded. "He seemed... distracted. He was definitely not at his best, age or not."

Nagato, too, nodded, "He was not at his best, indeed. Yet, there was more than just worry, I sense. As if he knew something you did not, yes? Something I, too, did not, he thinks. But I know what it was. I will tell you in due time. But first... how fare the defenses of the 'Village Hidden by the Phoenix'?"

Konan's own worried expression relaxed quickly into a more schooled one, that he was more used to seeing in the presence of others, not just himself. She took a breath, then began, "Their outer defenses are not inconsiderable, especially when you realize how little time they've had to work with them. It appears much of the once-broken wall has been rebuilt, though it lacks the jutsu-forged wood braces that the First Hokage built, or the Seal-reinforced brick- and stone-work that the Second and Third added.

"Their standing garrison is relatively weak, it appears most of their forces are in the field to defend themselves against Iwa's retaliatory vanguard, and the full-on assault that Orochimaru of the Sannin has launched against Taki, Yu, and now, Hi no Kuni.

"Sensei's old teammate, Senju Tsunade, is there, and in charge. There are several members of the Hyūga and Uchiha Clans, and together, they form the bulk of the defensive forces, but they still number only about thirty-five percent between them. New name or not, it seems that Ootori is doing its best to mirror the growth of Konohagakure, and is absorbing as many Clans as it can."

Nagato shrugged as much as the combination of his physical frailty and the restraining control unit allowed him to. "Perhaps. It is a good strategy, after all, unless you are betrayed from within."

"Or you are trying to fight a Kami?"

This time, Nagato's smile was genuine, "Something like that. Go, get some rest, it's late."

"Alright, Nagato," Konan replied gently, pressing her hemlock-colored lips to his cheek for a moment, "Don't stay up too late, saving the world."

"I won't, Konan," he replied solemnly, "I think I'll only need an hour to set things in motion."

A minute or so later, the door shut behind her.

His own nearly-perfect sensory skills swept the chamber for chakra paper.

It wasn't that he doubted her loyalty, not after all this time.

But she was very good at recon, and at misdirecting him, in particular.

There was nothing, of course.

A moment later, he whispered, "Madara?"

As always, these days, there was a slight tug of pressure from behind Nagato's eyes, aiming just a little to his left and ahead of him.

And there, when his eyes opened, was the familiar swirl of reality bending to accept the sudden presence of a masked man wearing the robes of his organization.

A mask of orange with a black swirl, much resembling his signature mobility technique, and a single eye, from which, even in the darkness, Nagato could see a fully-awakened Mangekyo Sharingan blaze.

"Yes, 'boss'?"

"It is time. I am ready to begin."

"Excellent. I'll inform Zetsu to begin activating his clones."

As the now-familiar form that, even though they had been working together now for over a decade, Nagato still did not have an accurate read on faded away into another places, he could hear the distant, much-muffled ring of church bells.

Midnight. Perfect.

(O)(O)(O)

Orochimaru coughed, glancing briefly at his right hand to confirm what he had suspected. Somehow... somehow, she'd done it.

"That bitch," he roared, "if she wasn't dead, I'd- no, I can bring her back later. Kabuto! Get me Kimimaro, and prep the Transfer Chamber!"

A few seconds later, a soft, measured voice replied from the doorway of his spartan bedchamber, "Oh? Anko's actually managed to poison you? I'm impressed."

"I'm not interested in hearing that right now," Orochimaru growled, voice low and threatening, "Get Kimimaro to the Chamber, now."

"He's already on his way," Kabuto replied, "He followed me to the door. I've had the chamber ready for two days, too, just in case someone found your base. The transfer can be started at any time. You should remember, though, you're still six months early. There's a chance you won't be able to take over this soon, and if it fails, you will die. Forever."

"I know all of that," Orochimaru hissed, "I invented that jutsu, remember? Now, get over here and help me stand."

Kabuto only continued smiling his little, false smile, but he did as his master ordered, as if Orochimaru- no matter that he was actually of the appropriate age- was his elderly father.

He took no small delight in looking at the blood- such a pleasant color- that dappled both their sleeves by the time the deepest room in the complex was reached.

Kimimaro was already there, of course, meditating.

He looked up, face blank, as they entered. "As always, Lord Orochimaru, my life is yours."

"Good," the Snake Sage whispered, then turned and forced his shaking body off of Kabuto's arm, ignoring the blood that now dripped from one nostril, one ear, and continuously down from his mouth. "I haven't much strength left if you were to fight... I might actually lose."

"I will never let that happen," Kimimaro sword, slashing the air with one hand.

He then stood and opened the loose front of his gi, presenting his chest and throat to his Master. "I am ready, my Lord."

Kabuto, like he had the last three times, watched with fascination from the doorway as Orochimaru's ruined, toxin-infested form melted, gory, from the body that was inside it: Orochimaru's true, Snake-Sage form, that of the multi-headed White Serpent of myth.

And he watched in fascination as Kimimaro's body was consumed.

Even more as, over the next few hours, the snake's body became Kimimaro's.

Then, as Kimimaro looked to the doorway with Orochimaru's gold, snake-slitted eyes and flexed, pushing blades of bone from his knuckles and elbows alike, Yukushi Kabuto smiled. "Truly fascinating."

(O)(O)(O)

Shizune watched, amazed, while her newly-adopted (officially, at least) mother's hand continued to work the small hand pump, while the other measured their patient's weak, unsteady pulse.

"I can't believe this is working," Shizune murmured. "I mean, it's almost barbaric, but... it's working."

"Ssh," Tsunade murmured, "Focus on cleaning the blood."

"R- Right," Shizune replied, turning back to face the collecting bag, much like the saline drip and the transfusion bag that hung next to it, which constantly filled with a steady flow of Jiraiya's blood, even as it emptied from the bottom.

Her hands were shaking slightly, not from the difficulty of the procedure- it was relatively easy- but because she'd had them held up to her shoulder height for over an hour.

Not to mention the sheer amazement of it all.

How had no one considered this?

Truly, Tsunade was a medical genius.

Take the blood out.

Ninja did that all the time.

But put the blood back in, after cleaning it?

That was...

Simple, and Genius.

Simply Genius.

It took two more hours before Tsunade was satisfied with Shizune's report of infection levels in her husband's blood.

"Alright," the older woman said, massaging her right palm with the left hand, which also glowed with light green chakra while she did so, "Next step's restarting his kidneys. I'll leave that to you, Shogo-san. Chobisa-san, you're going to keep on his heart. If it skips a beat, or starts beating irregularly, I want to know immediately, and I want you to keep it going until me or Shizune take over. Shizune, you... can you..."

"The legs?" she asked quietly.

For a moment, Tsunade hesitated.

In that moment, the younger medic- the second youngest in the room, in fact- saw just how worried her mother had been, and how relieved she now was.

Yet, how horrified at the damage that had been done to her once-handsome, if flamboyant, husband.

One leg gone below the knee, one just above it.

An arm shattered beyond most repair- Tsunade may be able to fix that.

The legs, though, would never be whole.

No one could reattach a limb that wasn't there, or form misted muscle and skin back onto bone that had turned to dust in an explosion.

"We'll do everything we can, Lady Tsunade," Shogo, an older, steady-handed medic that Tsunade had trained herself, once, back before Konoha had been destroyed.

They were words that Shizune had wanted to say herself, but she was grateful Shogo had, because she, too, was just too worried to say anything like that aloud.

The amazement at Tsunade having invented, on the spot, such a simple procedure to combat something that killed so many from gut-wounds or similar injuries was one thing.

But to do it when the injured man, who had literally been knocking on death's door, was her own husband...

"You'd better make it through, Master Jiraiya- Dad," Shizune whispered, "I don't think any of us would forgive you if you gave up."

For the briefest of moments, out of the corner of her eye, Shizune thought she saw his left hand, the less damaged one, form a thumbs-up.

But when she looked to confirm it, the hand was hanging limply past the edge of the operating table, just as it had been for hours.

"You'd better pull through..."

(O)(O)(O)

Shikamaru winced as the Iwa soldier's improvised club- the arm of a compatriot- smashed across his face.

Before he could retaliate, a bent, twisted kunai embedded itself in his temple, still smoking from the hellfire Shikamaru himself had only survived by rolling behind a pile of bodies at the last moment.

The incoming fire from the other side of the lake was too much for even Choji to deflect completely, and he also had to protect himself from the relatively small force of soldiers and ninja attacking his flanks and back.

"Choji!" he yelled, as loud as he could while glancing around through the fire- and smoke-blackened beach that had become the site of a rather pitched battle more than two hours earlier, "We have to get out of here! Back to camp!"

"On it," the unnaturally deep voice bellowed, "But I'm gonna have to take a few hits!"

"We'll get Rikimaru to patch you up," Shikamaru yelled back. Left unsaid in Shikamaru's mind was, "If he's still alive."

Because the flare Tenten had sent up just after they attacked was, indeed, noticed by their base platoon early on, when it looked like they- just the few of them, Shikamaru himself, Akimichi Choji, Tenten, and Temari, might be able to wipe out a vanguard force of the Iwa army alone- had been entirely misinterpreted.

Of course, because of that, their commanding officer, a Jonin formerly of both the Hidden Leaf and of River before it, too, had been destroyed in the chaos that followed Konoha's destruction, did the completely wrong thing, and ordered his platoon to make a rescue operation, which had quickly turned into a full-on defense of the beachhead.

Sure, Shikamaru knew, they'd slowed the Iwa army down by sinking several of the barges as they tried to cross.

But they hadn't accounted for the cavalry.

Men on tigers, on horses, on elephants.

They had come swarming from the back of the army, well beyond any of their sensor's range, to pound around both sides of the lake toward their position.

It had taken them two hours to get there at a full gallop, but...

The entire time, catapults and other siege engines had been launching one attack after another, and their best defensive techniques were only semi-effective, aside from Choji's, at blocking them.

An arrow whistled by his nose, scratching it slightly, making him wince.

As he whirled to face the attacker, a hand grasped his collar from behind and yanked, "Come on, you idiot, we need to get out while we can! Stop standing around!"

"Why," Shikamaru mused quietly to himself while he was dragged bodily from the battlefield by the second most troublesome girl he knew, "Do all the women in my life have to be so pushy? I swear, if women didn't try to take charge, we'd never have war, and I really could spend all day watching the clouds go by..."

Still, he was at least a bit relieved to hear the heavy thuds of Choji's feet fall into step and gradually return to his normal mass and volume as they fled.

A moment later, a winded- pun intended- Sabaku no Temari hopped off her fully-opened fan and began running on Tenten's other side.

All around them, the platoon was dying, and most of those able were finishing off whoever they were fighting and breaking away, just like they were.

It wasn't a full-on route.

Not really.

But it may as well have been.

For losing an entire platoon of nearly fifty ninja, they had kept this particular army of Iwa soldiers from attacking Ootori for about three hours.

"I can't even see the clouds because of the smoke," Shikamaru grumbled.

(O)(O)(O)

For three kilometers in any direction, including up, all was still and quiet around the hilltop palisade.

The crickets, birds, and other fauna did not chirp or sing. They, for the most part, had fled or gone to ground in their dens hours before, when the Ootori ninja had first arrived, then more-so when the first wild deer had detected the advancing Iwa ground forces.

The few clouds that obscured the sparkling diamond stars were, as always, silent.

Even the night breeze, which had stirred the tall grasses, flowers, and wild wheat around the prairie, fell still.

Most importantly, the sound of battle had fallen away.

Only the labored breathing of those who had been fighting, or the drip of blood onto the disturbed hard-packed dirt inside the walls, and in one case, the moan of a dying soldier, broke the tableu.

This silence made what followed seem all the more deafening.

A spherical typhoon of chakra, dark red, thick as molasses and smelling strongly of sulfur and pure, unbridled hatred, whipped out from the young man standing just outside the doorway of a smoking building inside the fort.

The first gust blew the young female Genin's body away and to his right, throwing it against the barrier of the outer wall with such force that the ballista bolt she'd been killed protecting him from shattered in three pieces, and one of the two-foot-thick logs dislodged so completely that it began to fall, before she slumped to the ground.

With it went leaves, paper tags of all kinds, grass- everything loose.

Kunai, weapons- soldiers.

Ninja.

Shinobi and Kunoichi alike, unless they were particularly well-grounded or heavy, were blasted away from Naruto as if they had been struck by the hammer-blow of a diety.

In that first burst, more than seventy people died.

Behind that pressure-wave came another, this time of heat.

The inferno was not literal, there were no actual flames aside from what it ignited in the coals of already-burning fires that were not snuffed out by the first wind, but all nine of the survivors, aside from Naruto himself, could only call it that.

What it actually was, though, would have surprised nearly anyone.

Just chakra.

Only, a lot of it.

And not just any chakra, but the chakra of the greatest of Bijū- the Nine-Tailed Fox.

Those who had been left standing- Akatsuchi the Shield among them- on the hilltop saw the lean wisps of clouds gather and swirl, multiply into a swirling roil that formed the basest semblance of a funnel arcing down toward them in just a few seconds.

The ground, too, shook and quaked. Fissures snaked out from Naruto's feet as if his weight had suddenly multiplied five-thousand-fold, spreading throughout the entire hill.

Despite the fire not being real, all the remnants of weed and grass inside the barrier curled and blackened.

Even for a few feet outside.

For a few moments, Akatsuchi did not fear death. As he saw the ghostly, phantasmal image of a colossal, malignant fox's head materialize above him, he welcomed it.

"Why?"

Dimly, Akatsuchi realized it was Naruto's actual body speaking, and somehow, he forced his attention down from the apparition to where the boy had been.

Had been, because he could not see him now.

The voice had become rougher, demonic even, coarse and uncontrolled, filled with such rage and power, but...

It fit, in a strange, yet honest way, the form he looked upon now.

Even as he watched, the actual body of the young man, perhaps ten years younger, at most, than Akatsuchi himself, bend, mold, into something more...

Canine.

No, vulpine.

Long, sleek, and low, yet towering five or six feet higher than his own massive body at the shoulder, its head was probably larger than he was.

A body of deepest red, crimson darker than blood, yet made of chakra, covered in a lighter layer of burnt orange like fur.

Bone grew from nothing, armoring the shape like an exoskeleton.

"Why did you kill her? She was a child," the creature said, now only vaguely sounding like Naruto's voice.

Only now, as Akatsuchi realized there would be no fast death for he and his, no shielding them from...

From whatever this was...

Death would not be quick.

Somehow, Han, before he had betrayed them, and Roshi, had made some sort of peace with their Bijū.

But this boy's...

There would be no peace, no bargain, with it.

Nor, it seemed, with the boy himself.

"Earth-Style: Planetar's Armor," Akatsuchi cried, flashing through hand-signs as fast as he could.

It was his strongest technique, one he had crafted himself based on advanced jutsu his grandfather, Oonoki, had shown him from Iwagakure's hidden libraries.

There was little visual effect to this one. No stone or dirt or earth protecting him.

No, it only affected damage by shunting impacts, heat, electrical current, or other forms of energy downward, into the planet, either grounding it out or distributing it so widely there was little to no effect.

He could keep it active, at his best, for about thirty seconds. The technique required spreading his chakra through the land for as many kilometers as he could reach, somewhere around two.

That was a lot of planet to absorb impacts.

But looking at what he was sure was a six-tailed manifestation of the full Nine-Tailed Bijū, Akatsuchi wasn't sure even that would be enough to keep him alive for that half-minute.

(O)(O)(O)

Seven meters and what seemed like a world away, Senju Sakura was doing her very best to force her way forward against the heat and wind, between the building and outer wall of the fort. She had to reach the girl, Moegi.

Moegi, who had sacrificed herself to save the man Sakura loved.

Moegi, who in the dark hours of the night previous, had confessed that she, too, had a humongous crush on Naruto, but that she'd never dream of getting in Sakura's way.

Moegi, who had shared her bath as the only two females still alive on the mission.

Moegi, who she'd chatted with as they shared a late-night watch two days before that, the night they'd fled from the ruined, half-collapsed landscape around the Heaven and Earth bridge.

Her friend.

Naruto's friend, too, though she doubted he realized it.

But he would not be doing...

Well, what he was doing, if he didn't care for the girl. He wasn't so altruistic as to release the Fox that he hated so much because some random person had sacrificed themselves to save him.

But she couldn't.

She was just so... tired.

Stamina was something she'd trained with, under Tsunade, quite a lot. Compared to most kunoichi, Sakura was very high-end, and could out-run or out-jutsu almost anyone.

But this... this was ridiculous. Medical Ninja used small amounds of chakra to maximum effect, as a general rule. She wasn't able to pump enough into her body, even using her techniques to the fullest, to even make progress!

Quietly, a bloodied Uchiha Sasuke dropped into the gap between the building Naruto stood on the other side of and the palisade where she had landed, one knee on the ground and the other on her back. "Hold still," he whispered, "I'll get you out."

"No," she hissed back, gesturing from her prone position- she'd dropped in an attempt to lower her wind profile, not that it had helped- "I have to get the girl."

Sasuke looked up, squinting through the haze of chakra, "I see her. I'll get her. Can you Shunshin through this?"

Sakura sent out the basic tendrils of chakra that all who could use the transportation jutsu were familiar with. "It's... hazy, but I think so. I might lose some accuracy or range."

Sasuke nodded, "I lost more accuracy. That's why I showed up off the ground, just in case. I've been taking all I could- yes, Iwa, too- to a little clearing about a mile south-east, toward Ootori. Iwa's tied up, of course. Left Botsu in charge. You go, I'll get the girl and go, right behind you."

"Naruto?" she asked, "Are you going to... abandon him?"

"Hell no," Sasuke growled, glaring down at her suddenly, "He's my friend, too you know. I just- need a second to think about how best to help."

For a moment, Sakura did not believe him. She knew that a part of Sasuke still felt he was the prophesied one, that he was better than Naruto.

In some ways, maybe he was. He was certainly skilled, and able to keep his position much easier than she could in the hurricane-force winds.

But he wasn't better overall. Just... different.

"Thank you, Sasuke," Sakura whispered, then lifted one hand- she immediately began sliding with the loss of grip- to form hand-signs.

"We're friends," was all he said with a shrug.

That he, even in that situation, still looked uncomfortable admitting it made Sakura smile, just a little bit, as she disappeared in a swirl of leaves that quickly flashed into ash.

She was most relieved when, about ten seconds later, Sasuke appeared, slightly singed, with the smoking body of Moegi in his arms. "We need to move."

"Is she...?" Sakura asked, immediately rushing over.

"Not yet," the dark-haired shinobi muttered, glancing about, "If any of you Iwa guys want to live, follow me. Ootori, form up on Sakura. We have to move out a few more miles, at least, or Naruto's going to kill us all when he goes really ballistic."

Without waiting for any response, Sasuke started walking through the small gathering of soldiers that, moments before, had been fighting to kill each other, carrying the limp body of the younger girl in his arms.

Without another moment's hesitation, Sakura followed, arms and hands already glowing with what was left of her chakra to do what she could to at least stabilize the girl.

She wasn't sure how, given what she'd seen, Moegi was still alive, especially since it seemed Sasuke had, after everything else, ripped the remains of the giant metal arrow out and cauterized the wound with one of his smaller-scale jutsu.

It was good thinking, but... ouch. That, on top of everything else...? The girl was unmistakably tough.

And she had red hair. That was really unusual.

Behind them, as they walked, Sakura's hair began to stand on end.

There was a sound, low, growing.

Rumbling.

Then, another pressure wave that stripped leaves from trees even where they were, and a low, horrible roar.

"Damn it, Naruto," she whispered, "You weren't supposed to let him go... now what are we going to do?"

(O)(O)(O)

"Lord Orochimaru's orders," Kabuto said with a grin. It was a bit later than he had wanted, but watching his master take a new body was always so... interesting, he'd gotten distracted. "Set up the ritual to begin the Impure World Resurrection Jutsu at once. We begin an hour before dawn."

Glossary:

No entries. Sorry about the delay on Akatsuchi 'getting busy'. But you will see that next time, no more buildup for Six-Tailed Fox-Form Naruto vs Akatsuchi the Shield.

Won't that be fun?

Also, if you're of a mind to see R-rated films (very much) of that nature, go see Deadpool 2. It's high-larious. Or don't. But I laughed a lot. In fact, go see movies. Or read. Something.

If you can read this, you should be reading. And you are, so congratulations!