The wind by the pond carried a damp chill as it brushed past Neji Hyuga's hair. He looked down at the jet-black, oddly shaped weapon at his feet, his mind in unprecedented turmoil. This thing was utterly unlike any ninja tool he knew, and he had no idea what kind of destructive power it possessed.
"What is this?" Neji's voice was a little dry. "Is it for me?"
Naruto Uzumaki did not answer where the weapon had come from. He merely stated another fact that was unfolding. "Times have changed, Neji."
"Gentle Fist, Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms—after spending your whole life training them to their limits, what can you accomplish? Knock down a few enemies within a few dozen meters? That's far too inefficient."
Naruto's words were sharp as blades. "They're merely techniques for close-quarters combat, relics of a bygone age."
Neji clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. Again, that rhetoric. Again, that attitude that reduced everything he had to nothing.
"Your life was shackled from the very beginning." Naruto changed tack, yet there was not a trace of sympathy in his voice. "Most people, if they faced the same circumstances as you, would only be more lost, and would rot away in despair much sooner."
He stepped forward and looked straight into Neji's eyes.
"Of course, you can be lost. That is the birthright of the weak. But you must understand that overwhelming power can give you more choices after your confusion has passed. Rather than leaving you like this, able only to passively accept everything others have arranged for you."
Naruto pointed at the long rifle on the ground. "Now, I'm giving you a chance to choose."
He crouched down, picked up the weapon, and skillfully adjusted a telescope-like device mounted above its body.