The Power of Susanoo, Cutting Through the Roots

The silvery-white glow of Chakra faded, and Naruto's knees hit the hard ground.

It was not the rubble-strewn center of the battlefield, but an abandoned slope of earth that had been torn up by the God Tree's roots. It lay less than three hundred meters in a straight line from the God Tree's trunk—far enough from the crazily growing roots, yet close enough for him to see everything happening on the battlefield. Tobirama's Flying Thunder God had transported them to this relatively safe area—a patch of high ground at the very edge of the battlefield. Behind the slope stood half a blasted-away hill, while before it was a natural depression that could temporarily shield them from the God Tree's direct perception.

Naruto knelt on the ground, both hands braced against the dirt. His Nine-Tails Chakra cloak had completely vanished, the last wisp of golden light dying from the tips of his bangs like a lamp snuffed out by the wind. All he had left was the orange jacket, scorched, torn, and stained with blood. Its left sleeve had been ripped clean off from the shoulder, exposing an arm mottled with bruises. His fingers dug into the earth, his nails packed with black mud and dried blood. His shoulders shook violently, his entire body pressed against the cold ground like a leaf knocked down by a storm.

He was murmuring something.

Not the words of a ninjutsu, not a response from the Nine-Tails, but someone's name. Again and again, it squeezed past his lips, so faint that only he could hear it.

"Third Hokage... Third Hokage... Third Hokage..."

Minato landed beside him, one hand pressing against his back. The hand of his reanimated body had no warmth, yet the touch made Naruto shudder sharply—as though an icy needle had pierced his