System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 303: Chapter 302: The Man Behind the Mask

---Akatsuki Hideout - River Country Cavern---

The silence that followed the battle was heavier than the stone ceiling above them.

Team 7 stood amidst the wreckage of their victory. Naruto held the unconscious form of Gaara, his grip tight, his knuckles white, as if afraid the Kazekage might slip away into the ether if he let go. Sakura was frozen, her hands still glowing faintly with medical chakra she hadn’t had time to use. Sasuke stood with his teeth gritted, his Sharingan fading slowly; he wasn’t jealous of Haku’s display, but the sheer gap in efficiency gnawed at his pride. He felt like a weight, a spectator in a play written for apex beings.

Kakashi had lifted his headband to reveal his own Sharingan, but he hadn’t even had the chance to focus his chakra. The fight had ended before it began.

They all looked at Haku.

The boy in the teal kimono stood over the broken remains of Sasori, flicking puppet oil and blood from his blade with a sharp, disciplined snap of his wrist. He was calm, uninjured, and terrifyingly efficient.

Then, their gazes drifted upward.

Alaric floated where the demonic Gedo Mazo had stood only moments ago. He was casually lighting a fresh cigar, the flame from his finger illuminating his face in the dim light. He looked less like a savior and more like a bored deity who had just swatted a fly.

”Well,” Alaric said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that drifted toward the skylight Haku and Sakura had created. ”That’s better.”

He looked down at them, a lazy, lopsided grin spreading across his face.

”So... who’s hungry?”

Everyone stared at him. The sheer nonchalance was jarring. They were standing in a tomb of S-rank criminals, clutching a comatose world leader, and he was asking about lunch.

”Hungry...?” Naruto blinked, the adrenaline crash making him dizzy. ”Seriously?”

Suddenly, the air behind Alaric warped.

It wasn’t a movement. It was a distortion of space itself.

A spiral vortex began to form near the center of the cavern, right where the Gedo Mazo’s head had been. The space twisted, folding in on itself with a low, sucking sound that made the ears pop.

Everyone widened their eyes as the spin of the vortex sped up. A figure materialized from the eye of the storm.

He wore the black cloak of the Akatsuki, clouds red as fresh blood. On his face was a strange, orange mask with a spiral pattern that converged on a single eye hole on his right side.

”Ah...”

The man looked at the devastation... the shattered rocks, the dismantled puppet of Sasori, and the ladying body of Deidara.

He threw his hands up in the air, his body language exaggerated and clumsy.

”Hello everyone!” the masked man shouted, his voice shrill and goofy. ”Waaah! What happened over here!? Deidara-senpai got beaten!? And Sasori-danna too!?”

”Eh?” Naruto’s eyes widened. His guard was up, but his brow furrowed in confusion. The man sounded like a clown. ”Who are you, weirdo?”

The masked man jumped, acting surprised. He scratched the back of his head dramatically, leaning back as if intimidated by the teenagers. ”Oh my! I’m so sorry! I’m just a passing good boy! My name is Tobi!”

”...”

”...”

No one replied. The silence was thick with suspicion.

They weren’t stupid. He was wearing the cloak. He had appeared from a spatial jutsu. He was Akatsuki.

Haku glanced at Alaric. He saw his Sensei’s expression... it hadn’t changed, but the air around Alaric had grown still. Haku tightened his grip on Kusanagi. This was serious.

”Ah, come on, why’re you guys so silent?” Tobi asked playfully, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy. ”It’s like a ghost passed by! Or maybe you’re all just stunned by Tobi’s coolness!”

Still no reply.

Tobi sighed, his shoulders slumping in a pantomime of dejection. Then, he pointed a gloved finger at Gaara.

”Anyway... can I take your friend over there? You see, I got orders from people above to put him in wonderland! It’s a very nice place, I promise!”

”...”

Alaric watched the performance from his floating perch. It was impressive, in a way. The commitment to the bit was absolute. But there was something about that high-pitched voice, that mockery of innocence while standing in a slaughterhouse, that annoyed him.

Alaric lowered himself until his boots touched the stone floor. He walked forward, stepping between Team 7 and the masked man.

”Why don’t you cease the charade?” Alaric asked, his voice low and cutting. ”Stop hiding behind the mask, friend. It doesn’t suit you.”

Tobi tilted his head, feigning confusion. He shrugged dramatically. ”I don’t really know what you mean... and I’m sorry! You see... I’m quite ugly beneath this! You guys might puke! And Tobi doesn’t want to ruin the mood!”

For some reason, Kakashi felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

It was a grave feeling, heavy and suffocating. It was familiar. He stared at the single eye hole in the orange mask. He couldn’t see the eye clearly, but the presence... it tugged at a memory buried deep under layers of grief and trauma.

’Who is he?’ Kakashi thought, his hand trembling slightly.

”Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” Alaric smirked. He took a long drag from his cigar, letting the smoke obscure his face for a second before waving it away.

”I don’t even know why you’re pretending to be jovial,” Alaric said, his eyes locking onto the mask. ”Nor why you’re such a hardcore Madara wannabe... Obito.”

”!!!”

The name hit the room like a physical shockwave.

”WHAT!?”

Kakashi lashed out, a scream tearing from his throat before he could stop it. His visible eye widened until it threatened to tear at the corners.

’No... that can’t be!’ Kakashi’s mind reeled, panic rising like bile. ’Obito died! I saw him die! I visited his grave before I even came here! Why is Alaric-san saying such an absurd statement!?’

”...”

”...”

Silence descended again. But this time, it wasn’t the silence of confusion. It was the silence of a held breath before the plunge.

Despite the shocking revelation, Alaric calmly took another drag from his cigar. He let the tension rise, thick and suffocating.

”...Hm...”

Tobi’s posture changed.

The slouch vanished. The playful tilt of the head straightened. His shoulders squared, and the clumsy aura evaporated instantly, replaced by a cold, abyssal darkness.

”Interesting...”

The voice that came from the mask was no longer high-pitched. It was deep. Baritone. Matured by years of bitterness and command.

The pressure in the cavern grew heavy. The temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

Despite Obito’s calm appearance, Alaric could sense the turmoil beneath the surface. His sensory abilities picked up the spike in chakra, the frantic processing of a mastermind who realized his board had just been flipped.

”You must be thinking...” Alaric stepped closer, casual as a wolf. ”Who could it be? How could anyone know my identity? Did Zetsu betray me? Did Madara leave a loose end?”

”...No,” the man... Obito... replied.

He stared at Alaric through the single eye hole. The red glow of a Sharingan finally became visible in the shadows of the mask.

He couldn’t outright admit it. He couldn’t verify the truth to Kakashi. But he couldn’t ignore it either. Obito was ready to escape; his body was already phasing, preparing the Kamui dimension. He knew a direct confrontation with a man who could seal the Gedo Mazo instantly was suicide.

”I just find it interesting,” Obito said slowly. ”If I am Obito... then who are you?”

The exchange was nerve-wracking for Kakashi. He looked from Alaric to the masked man, his heart hammering against his ribs. The thought of Obito being alive... and being this... was a nightmare he wasn’t prepared to wake up from.

”Who am I?” Alaric’s smirk didn’t fade. He noticed that while Obito didn’t weave a hand seal, the intangibility was semi-active.

Alaric dropped the cigar ash on the floor.

”Well,” Alaric said softly. ”I’m just a guy who knows the real orchestrator of Nohara Rin’s death.”

Obito went rigid.

”And it’s not the Hidden Mist,” Alaric finished.

This time, the eye behind the mask widened. Shock... genuine, raw shock... flooded Obito’s system.

The real orchestrator?

What did that mean? The Mist Anbu had kidnapped Rin. They had sealed the Three-Tails into her. They had forced her to commit suicide on Kakashi’s Raikiri to protect the village. That was the truth. That was the hell he lived in.

And now, this blonde anomaly was telling him there was another layer? That his despair was manufactured?

”If you’re planning to test whether my info’s correct or not,” Alaric said, dropping the butt of his cigar and crushing it beneath his boot. ”I don’t mind a conversation. But not here. You’re already creeping out my allies.”

Alaric’s eyes flashed.

”And don’t bother testing your abilities against me,” Alaric warned, his voice dropping to a whisper that echoed like thunder. ”I know how your eye works.”

He pointed a finger at the mask.

”Now... Kamui the fuck out of here.”

.

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