Deep within the Land of Wind, Rōran Ruins.
This place had always been called the "Land Abandoned by the Gods." Thousands of weathered stone pillars stood thrust into the yellow sand like a dead man's ribs. Under the blazing sun, even their shadows seemed vicious. The air reeked of ancient dust, dry enough to choke the throat.
Sunagakure's puppet forces had long since spread out. Black-robed puppets occupied every high point, poison blades gleaming coldly at their joints. Under Hiruzen's command, the Konoha Sealing Team was carefully setting up a sensory barrier. The atmosphere was so grim it felt like a memorial service.
However, that grimness lasted less than three minutes.
"Boom-chk! Boom-chk!"
A pulse-pounding heavy-metal bassline, accompanied by the dying roar of a diesel engine, brutally assaulted everyone's eardrums.
That bizarre Golden Convoy rolled over the shattered stone road, its tracks kicking up sand everywhere as it charged recklessly into this forbidden land that had slept for a thousand years.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
A Sunagakure expert who had been lying on the ground analyzing runes got blasted full in the face by exhaust. His entire face instantly turned black as coal. Trembling with rage, he pointed at the convoy, trying to curse them out, only to get a mouthful of sand and manage nothing but hoarse wheezing.
"Stop—!"
With a shout like a broken gong, the convoy came to an ear-splitting halt in front of the thirty-meter-tall bronze gate of the ruins.
Gaara's brow furrowed tightly, and even the stopper of the gourd on his back had come loose. He glanced at Hiruzen. The old Hokage had pulled his cloak hood low, looking as though he wished he could crawl into a crack in the ground and pretend he did not know these people.
"Sealing Team, prepare to work."