Main World.
Year 30 of Konoha, spring.
The Country of Roran, eastern border, Golden Forest.
Thousands of ancient trees had golden trunks and golden leaves. Even the rotting leaves on the ground shimmered with gold.
It was not autumn. The power of the Forest-Forest Fruit had turned this land on the desert's edge into a golden sea.
The canopies blotted out the sky, their branches interwoven, their roots sunk deep into the sand. They had turned this once-barren desert into the Country of Roran's strongest natural barrier.
Hanzō stood at the edge of the Golden Forest, a respirator covering everything but his sharp eyes. Behind him stood three thousand elite Amegakure shinobi-silent and stern, ninja blades in hand and explosive tags hanging at their waists. He gazed at the golden forest, his brow furrowing slightly.
"The Golden Forest. Toyotomi Jinsyokuin planted it." His voice came through his mask, muffled but clear. "A nine-year-old child who can turn a desert into a forest. What will he be like when he grows up?"
Behind him, an Amegakure Jonin bowed his head.
"Lord Hanzō, there are chakra fluctuations in the forest. Very strong ones. Four of them. Golden, emerald green, golden yellow, and silver white."
Hanzō did not turn around. He had already sensed them. Four sources of chakra, four directions, four colors. All children. He raised his right arm.
"Attack."
The three thousand elite Amegakure shinobi moved at once. They did not charge; they spread out. Like mercury spilling across the ground, like mist spreading, like raindrops seeping into soil. They did not run, walk, or jump-they "flowed" into the forest. Soundless, breathless, shadowless.
Hanzō did not enter. He stood alone at the forest's edge, gazing at that expanse of gold.
Deep in the forest lay a clearing. Golden trees formed a