THE REAL MYSTERY IS IN HEAVEN.

In the world of the Shinobi, where the Chakra flows like an incessant river, the days pass by like leaves carried by the wind. Every ray of sunlight that caresses the village of Konoha seems to carry with it a whisper, a murmur that spreads like golden dust through the streets and paths.

The people of Konoha and beyond are shrouded in rumors, as if an ancient secret has been unearthed and shared only in clandestine whispers. The rumor, like a seed planted in the fertile soil of the imagination, begins modestly, like a whisper in the ear of an acquaintance in a dark corner of a bar.

"Have you heard of portals?"

The phrase floats in the air, barely noticed by those who are too busy with their daily lives. But, like the gentle breeze that caresses the face, the rumor persists. It takes root in the collective consciousness, like the roots of a tree penetrating deep into the earth.

"They say strange people are suddenly appearing. When you see one of them with strange behavior, never open the Door for them..."

The words become a constant murmur in the corridors of the houses, in the stalls of the merchants and in the conversations by the fire on quiet nights. In every corner of the village and in every corner of the Shinobi world, the rumor becomes a legend that is told over and over again.

"A man was found dead just after he emerged, as if he had been blown away by the wind."

"Oh, but I heard that only their torn clothes remain!"

"In my village, a girl arrived safely from another world."

Stories are intermingled with the extraordinary and the inexplicable. There is talk of Interdimensional portals that open and close without warning. Suddenly, the woods witness sightings of strange animals, and the Chakra seems to stir as if it is also unsettled by these events.

With each passing day, the rumors range from the simplest to the most fantastical. At first, people talk about strange distortions in space-time.

The old barriers protecting entire villages were said to be forced to be deactivated due to uncertainty and internal tension. Ancient temples, whose seals had remained intact for generations, watched as they shattered, releasing powers that no one knew how to interpret, even if no such power ever existed.

As the world reeled under this uncertainty, Boruto and his friends made remarkable progress in their training.

Even though some of his teammates could resist the effort, they persisted. Each day they woke up with determination in their eyes, ready to challenge the limits of their abilities. Under Mirai's wise gaze, they trained outdoors, where the wind blew like an echo of their dedication.

The black-haired woman watched them from a distance, a smile on her lips as her pupils followed every movement, every technique perfected.

He took time to evaluate each step, each advance, each strategy that was coming. His mind was focused on the mission, one that could change everything. In an alien reality, she was another person; a Mirai different from the one the children saw every morning when they woke up surrounded by the rock walls.

Mirai was determined not to reveal anything to them, even if it meant putting her own life at risk. This led her to be absent more than once in the meetings with the Great Old Woman, in which the poor woman was forced to cover her with a lie so as not to arouse suspicion.

Mirai knew that more than one was not an idiot. The only reason the alarms aren't going off for her is because they're tense. The Ancient One had assigned them nights of explanation after explanation, and the deeper they got into the consequences, the more they focused on avoiding them.

It seemed low to him, but necessary; He had to take advantage of that fear and mourning, and get to work on his business.

In the bustling streets of Konoha, Sumire walked with a different child each day. The tension and nervousness were palpable in some of them, their eyes full of uncertainty.

But everyone was determined to keep going. He carried them on simple tasks, such as buying fresh food at the market, where the bustle of vendors created a vibrant symphony, or picking medicinal herbs in the forest, where nature whispered ancient secrets to them.

The adaptation was slow but steady, like the calm flow of a river that slowly forms its way through the stones.

Konoha, with its scent of green leaves and fresh earth, was starting to feel like home once again for these children who had faced so much in such a short amount of time.

Himawari, with her resilient spirit, led the way, demonstrating something that only she herself was capable of seeing, and that only a couple of people in that reality would understand. She hadn't changed, and she wasn't going to. She was going to adapt.

In the midst of all this, the villagers whose temples had been affected by the instability of their seals, reaffirmed their faith. Collective tension toward religion grew, and the old prayers resonated with new meaning. Hope became a beacon in the darkness, guiding those who sought answers in an ever-changing world.

In the midst of the whirlwind of mystery and fear that enveloped the Shinobi world, one man stood out, braving the collective waves of uncertainty and chaos that hung over the land.

His solitary figure moved forward with determination, defying all the temporal consequences that might arise.

Each step echoed in the distance, marking his presence, but his face remained shrouded in a blanket of shadows, an enigma in the midst of chaos, which contrasted with his mere striking and to a certain extent, wise and charismatic presence.

The man had traveled mile after mile in his search for answers. He had braved scorching deserts and troubled waters, all in his relentless pursuit of truth. However, all he found were speeches that resembled those he had heard previously.

A man, apparently disturbed, had told him about the arrival of the portals while holding a religious book in his hand.

"They're here." He had murmured in a trembling voice. "They're coming for us... They're here."

Discretion was something that the elderly man and battle experience took seriously, but he could not ignore the heartbreaking expressions of the devotee. When he asked him more, the disturbed man went into a kind of hysteria, clutching his head and with expressions of deep terror.

"They're here! My god...! Are...!!"

The protagonist of this story, unwavering in his search for the truth, continued to explore different opinions and stories as he made his way through the land of fire.

Every village, every corner he visited, provided him with a piece of the puzzle. The version that began to take shape was even more terrifying:

"People have appeared to destroy everything. Even those that emerged from the portals have wiped out entire villages in a matter of days."

The man, relentless in his search for information, collected data in the vicinity of the affected villages.

He was in the middle of an investigation when a sudden croaking caused him to stop in his tracks. He turned to the source of the sound and saw a toad jump surprisingly high and land on his shoulder. This was remarkable as the man was imposing in stature and size, and the toad looked diminutive in comparison.

The toad opened its mouth, and the man drew a letter. He read it carefully, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in concentration. It was a message from an informant, and after a brief tick in his expression, he knew that he must take this report directly to Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage of Konoha.

The informant in the letter revealed the identity of Tsunade's right-hand man, by direct mention: Jiraiya, one of the legendary Sannin. The man was prepared to deliver his report to Tsunade, aware that the situation required the most immediate attention.

The darkness of the present times deepened even deeper, and the Shinobi world teetered on the edge of the abyss.

(~~~)

A grotesque yawn broke the silence on the barren plain. Sitting on a time-worn rock, Hidan, the religious member of Akatsuki, stretched out with extreme fatigue. Beside him, Kakuzu, his companion, was equally exhausted.

They had spent a full week, plus five endless days, extracting the bijū from the Cloud Jinchūriki. The distant lightning on the horizon and the dark clouds swirling around testified to the power they had unleashed.

Hidan complained loudly, as usual, as his bones creaked in protest at the protracted fighting.

Both wore Akatsuki's signature black cloak, adorned with the striking red patterns that represented their organization. Hidan's hood was drooping, revealing his scarred face, and his scruffy white hair. Kakuzu, on the other hand, had a cold and stern look under his hood, hiding most of his features.

"Damn, Kakuzu! When the hell will this end?" Hidan exclaimed, his voice raspy with weariness. 

Kakuzu, as was his custom, responded with his serious and sarcastic tone.

"Patience is not exactly your virtue, is it, Hidan? Even so, this bijū turned out to be more stubborn than I expected."

"You should have ripped that thing off in one try, old man holding on." Hidan replied, his confidence unshaken. 

The mercenary looked at the unsettling sky and replied:

"We have lasted longer than expected. Also, there is something strange about the Chakra of this bijū. Even the leader had difficulty understanding this anomaly."

Hidan frowned, his arrogance momentarily overshadowed by an unsettling sense of intrigue. He didn't like it when things didn't go as planned.

"What the hell are you implying, Kakuzu?"

"I don't know for sure, but there is something unusual about this extraction." Kakuzu's voice became more serious. 

Before they could delve into that conversation, Hidan stretched one last time, as if he wanted to ease the pain in his joints. At this moment, Kakuzu spoke in an unusually serious tone of voice, and his words echoed in the heavy air:

"It's time for us to head to Konoha to reclaim what is ours."

Hidan's expression changed to a mixture of intrigue and anticipation as he stood up. He knew exactly what Kakuzu meant, but he still wanted to question him.

Hidan stood up with a defiant look in his eyes, his face contorted in a gesture of confusion and rudeness.

"What the hell do you mean, Kakuzu?" He snapped, engaging in his characteristic stubborn and confrontational attitude. 

Kakuzu stared at him, with the patience of a man who had endured Hidan's eccentricities for a long time. However, this time, his words sounded harsher.

"We've spent too much time here, and I don't want to risk the corpse rotting beyond recognition." Kakuzu's tone indicated that there was no room for arguments. 

Hidan grunted in discontent, but finally gave in to his partner's logic. With a snort of disgust, he stood up and began to follow Kakuzu, who walked slowly forward. Kakuzu's every step seemed deliberate, as if he was carefully measuring his progress.

As he followed him, Hidan noticed something strange. An uncomfortable feeling came over him, although he couldn't put his finger on what was wrong.

He continued walking, although his legs seemed a little sleepy from the previous posture. The sun was hidden behind the dark and oppressive clouds that now dominated the sky, giving the landscape an even bleaker air.

Kakuzu finally stopped, and Hidan, without showing it, felt a temporary relief in his legs. He looked at his companion with a mixture of curiosity and discontent, while muttering wearily.

"What's going on...?"

Kakuzu, still looking ahead, replied in an imperturbable voice.

"Nothing, Hidan. You're just being just as lazy."

Kakuzu's response didn't completely satisfy Hidan's curiosity, but he was too exhausted to continue insulting. He turned and followed Kakuzu, the tip of his tongue filled with meaningless insults toward the man in front of him.

The day stretched across the landscape, but it was far from an ordinary day. The sun hid behind dense gray clouds that darkened the sky, casting deep shadows on the earth.

The air was charged with a strange tension, as if the world itself anticipated the impending change that was unfolding without its knowledge.

In the midst of this ominous scenario, two men were advancing with determination. Dressed in their signature black coats adorned with red clouds, Kakuzu and Hidan carried with them a darkness that seemed to emanate from their presence.

They were well-known figures in the Shinobi world, though their true roles and goals remained hidden from most.

Here, on this unknown route to Konoha, their roles unfolded in a course that, while it was to be known at some point in the future, was still shrouded in a veil of mystery and foreboding.

The fate of those involved in their path was at stake, and death seemed to be the sole judge of their fates.

Circumstances had brought them to this point, where every step they took echoed like an ominous echo in a gloomy forest.

The earth beneath his feet seemed to be permeated with an unsettling feeling, as if nature itself was watching and waiting.