Time was the Shinobi World's most precious-and cruelest-scroll.
Twenty years passed in the blink of an eye.
Twenty years was enough for a newborn infant to grow into a ninja capable of standing on their own.
It was also enough for the scars of war to disappear beneath the green leaves of prosperity, leaving only faint traces in the memories of the older generation.
The Ōtsutsuki Clan had not come.
They were like a forgotten nightmare hanging at the edge of the sky.
Perhaps, to those "interstellar locusts" who measured their lives in millennia, twenty years was no more than a brief nap.
Konoha prospered as never before.
Tall buildings rose from the ground, traffic filled the streets, and children's laughter replaced the blare of alarms as the village's sweetest background sound.
Behind it all was the "power of truth."
The Third Training Ground.
White lightning and a green beast clashed a hundred times in an instant.
Kakashi Hatake sported his signature silver hair, and even the mask covering his face could not conceal the languor and sharpness in his eyes.
The short blade in his hand was wreathed in Chidori's mournful cries. Every swing seemed to slice through space.
Opposite him, Might Guy wore a green bodysuit, the inexhaustible flames of youth burning beneath his thick eyebrows.
His taijutsu had long since surpassed his father Might Duy's. Every move carried enough raw force to shake mountains.
"Konoha Whirlwind!"
"Lightning Blade!"
They swept past each other and stopped at opposite ends of the training ground, both unscathed, though the earth beneath their feet was already crisscrossed with trenches.
"Damn it! Kakashi! You edged me out again today!" Might Guy gave him a thumbs-up, flashing a mouthful of white teeth in a smile more dazzling than the sun.
Kakashi waved a