The weight of what he had done settled over Renjiro like a shroud as he left the T&I Department; his footsteps echoed through the cold corridors, each one carrying the memory of the prisoner's empty eyes, the mechanical obedience, the silent collapse. He compartmentalised it like a commander; he acknowledged the act, accepted its necessity, and filed it away in a part of his mind that would not interfere with his function. The prisoner had been a threat, a high-ranking intelligence operative who would have continued to serve Iwa if left alive. The death had been justified, but that did not make it easy. He had tested every EMS ability except one, and the final unknown was the greatest of them all.
The Susanoo.
He immediately rejected testing it anywhere near Konoha; the destruction would be too great, the risk too high. He decided that only one location was suitable: the Valley of the End. It was vast, isolated, historically capable of surviving god-like battles. If there was any place where a Susanoo should be awakened, it was there.
The journey to the Valley was quiet, a deliberate contrast to the intensity of the previous chapters. Renjiro travelled alone; no teleportation, no flashy entrance, just the steady rhythm of flickering that gave him time to reflect. He walked through forests and across plains, his steps unhurried, his mind already turning to the test ahead. He thought of the Susanoo, and one final thought surfaced: if the Mangekyō represented the soul, then Susanoo was the soul given form. So he was wondering how the new Susanoo would be.
Renjiro finally reached his destination and chose a point several kilometres away from everything; he intentionally wanted nobody nearby, no accidental witnesses, and maximum room. He stood at the centre of the valley, his gaze sweeping across the landscape.
He activated sealing barriers simply to monitor the area radius, not to contain the Susanoo. He would not be able to contain it externally anyway.
He activated both eyes simultaneously; left eye and right eye, their patterns spinning in perfect synchronisation. Emerald chakra erupted from his body, the atmosphere vibrating with the intensity of the release. The air around him grew thick and heavy, as if the very space was struggling to contain the power that was being unleashed. Pressure built around him, the ground cracking beneath his feet, the water in the river rippling violently. Unlike before, there was no screaming, no agony, only overwhelming power that was perfectly controlled.
The chakra began to coalesce; first, an enormous rib cage formed around him, its surfaces gleaming with emerald light. The ribs were massive, each one as thick as a tree trunk, and they curved around him like the bars of a cage. Then a spine emerged, its vertebrae stacking one on top of another, forming a column of impossible strength. A skull followed, its features sharp and angular, its eye sockets glowing with the same emerald light. Arms appeared, their muscles defined and powerful, their hands clenching into fists.
The skeleton dwarfed the trees around him, its size so immense that it seemed to block out the sky. The ground began cracking beneath its weight, fissures spreading outward like spiderwebs. The water in the river churned and foamed, waves crashing against the banks. The very air seemed to groan under the pressure.
The second layer formed; the emerald chakra condensed into muscles, tendons, and ligaments that covered the skeleton. The Susanoo began moving naturally, flexing its arms and adjusting its stance. Unlike the old skeletal version, this looked alive, breathing, flexing, waiting. Renjiro noticed that every movement perfectly mirrored his own; when he raised his arm, the Susanoo raised its arm; when he turned his head, the Susanoo turned its head. The synchronisation was perfect.
The third stage was the slowest; heavy obsidian armour plates descended piece by piece, covering the shoulders, chest, waist, gauntlets, and greaves. Each plate was outlined with glowing emerald seams, creating a design that was intimidating, elegant, ceremonial, and divine. The armour was layered, each plate overlapping the next, forming a protective shell that seemed impenetrable. There were no rough edges; everything was perfectly fitted, as if the armour had been forged for this specific purpose.
The helmet was the final piece; it descended slowly, its mask closing to hide the face. The helmet was shaped like a samurai's kabuto, its crest rising high above the head. Then the helmet crest ignited, and Renjiro noticed the design: his EMS, the Uzumaki-Sharingan rotational sigil. Not an Uchiha fan, not Uzumaki spirals, but his symbol. The Susanoo literally recognised him, bearing his mark as a declaration of identity.
Before Renjiro even moved, the environment began responding. The water in the river began boiling, steam rising in thick clouds that obscured the surface. Enormous waves crashed against the cliffs, their force shaking the ground. Trees bent outward as if pushed by an invisible wind, their branches snapping under the pressure. Birds fled in panic, their calls fading into the distance as they desperately tried to escape. Animals ran, their instinct driving them away from the source of the overwhelming power. Clouds swirled overhead, forming patterns that mirrored Susanoo's shape, their movement unnatural and unsettling. The air became heavy, and breathing became difficult, as if the very oxygen was being compressed. The pressure alone was affecting the landscape, reshaping the environment around him.
Without conscious effort, the Susanoo formed its weapons. The Naginata of the Wicked was enormous and elegant, its black blade edged with emerald light, green flames dancing along its surface. The blade was longer than a man, its edge sharp enough to cut through stone. The shaft was wrapped in emerald energy, its surface etched with the same rotational sigil that marked the helmet. Renjiro immediately understood that this weapon existed to execute; it was a tool of judgment, a blade that would not hesitate to strike.
The Great Aegis of Dominion was a massive shield of obsidian layered with seals and emerald veins; at its centre was his EMS sigil. The shield was broader than the Susanoo's body, its surface covered in intricate patterns that seemed to shift and flow. It felt less like a shield and more like an immovable wall, a barrier that could not be breached.
He experimented with simple movements; raising the weapon, turning, walking, swinging once. He did not destroy mountains; he only showed incredible precision, no lag, and effortless synchronisation. The Susanoo moved with him, its actions mirroring his own. Everything felt lighter than expected, as if the power was an extension of his will.
Renjiro directly compared this to the Susanoo he had used against Orochimaru. The old Susanoo had felt incomplete, cracked constantly, painful, with enormous chakra drain, difficult to control. He remembered the strain, the agony, the feeling that his body was tearing itself apart. The current armoured Susanoo was fully armoured, perfectly stable, painless, naturally maintained, synchronised with his nervous system, enormous yet graceful, with no chakra instability. It felt like an extension of his own body. Before, he had piloted the Susanoo; now, he wore it.
He thought of the implications; the Susanoo was no longer a last resort, a desperate measure that could only be used in the most extreme circumstances. It was a tool, a weapon that he could call upon at will. He could use it to protect, to fight, to defend. He could use it to change the world.
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