The Chakra ink on the Scroll gleamed beneath the lamp like undried blood, carrying an ominous shimmer.
Namikaze Minato's fingers paused over the line reading "seventy-two hours." Through the paper, he could feel the cold, despairing pulse of Chakra.
Thirty-four thousand people.
That number weighed on his chest like a Boulder.
He had reviewed this intelligence. Every detail, every place name, corroborated what he had learned through other channels about the Land of Rain's plight. This was not a forged letter of intimidation, but a blood-soaked forecast of death.
At some point, the study window had been blown open a crack by the wind.
The night breeze poured in, carrying a trace of damp chill from the rain.
A paper butterfly rode the wind inside, silently fluttering down onto the Scroll Minato had spread across the desk.
Minato's pupils contracted slightly. His body entered combat readiness in an instant, only for him to forcibly relax again.
He recognized this Chakra.
The paper butterfly silently unfolded and changed shape, eventually gathering into the outline of a woman in the desk's shadow. Dressed in a white trench coat, with orange eyes and an indifferent expression, she was Konan, Amegakure's envoy.
"It seems Lord Minato has received it."
Konan's voice, like her Chakra, held no warmth.
"Was this your arrangement?" Minato's voice was low.
"We lack the ability to arrange for Rogue Ninja to raid and plunder, much less create a plague," Konan stated calmly. "We are merely an organization that has just risen from the ruins. We are not even capable of stabilizing the entire Land of Rain."
She neither admitted nor denied anything, merely placing herself in the position of the weak.
"This intelligence is Akatsuki's friendly warning to Konoha." Konan's gaze fell on the Scroll. "And to you, Lord Minato."