Sunagakure's Puppet Revolution
The puppet arts weren't just popular in Sunagakure anymore.
They were dominant.
Under Jinghang's backing, the technology had exploded. What used to be wooden marionettes on strings had evolved into something the original timeline would never recognize.
And under Sasori—the third-generation master—they'd completed the transformation.
From puppets to mechs.
Sasori's design textbook laid it out plainly:
"Traditional puppet masters measured strength by quantity. Ten puppets. Twenty. Fifty. But modern warfare demands quality. One superior unit with stronger combat power, better defense, and precision control can accomplish what a hundred wooden dolls cannot."
Elite force doctrine. Jinghang had approved immediately.
After all—ten Starscreams couldn't touch Optimus Prime.
The old "Performance of a Hundred Puppets" technique looked impressive. But there was only one brain controlling them. Attention scattered across dozens of units meant sloppy execution across the board.
Better to build one war machine. Alloy frame that shrugged off attacks. Modular weapons that could adapt mid-combat. Movements no human body could replicate.
Sasori even had a student—Giswan—who'd taken it further. Pure firepower builds. Walking artillery platforms. "Firepower is king" philosophy.
If the tech issues got ironed out, this war would get loud.
(What boy doesn't dream of piloting a giant robot?)
Danzō was suffering.
The thing in front of him—Zhong Kui—was two meters of solid iron. It looked clumsy. Heavy. Slow.
It was none of those things.
Fast. Agile. Relentless. Every opening Danzō tried to exploit closed before he could capitalize. Every wind technique he threw at it scraped paint at best.
And the attacks—hooks that tore flesh, joints that bent in ways human anatomy couldn't match, strikes from angles that shouldn't exist.
This wasn't like fighting Sunagakure's puppet masters in the Second War.
This was different.
Danzō had experience. Decades of it. Kage-level strength. Tactical mastery.
And he was losing.
The old playbook had two strategies against puppet masters:
Strategy One: "Seize the Weapon" Cut the chakra strings. Turn the puppets into dead weight. Minato had used it against Sasori at the Ninja Tournament. Clean. Effective.
Strategy Two: "Behead the General" Bypass the puppets. Attack the user directly. Puppet masters were glass cannons—all their focus on the dolls meant weak personal combat ability.
Danzō had killed the Second Kazekage that way. Shamon—master of puppets and sand manipulation, basically Kankurō and Gaara combined—had died because Danzō backstabbed him while Kagami kept him busy.
Sasori had fused with his puppet. Wore it like armor. The chakra strings were internal.
No weapon to seize. No general to behead.
Just a walking tank that Danzō couldn't scratch.
Times change. Technology evolves. Old solutions don't solve new problems.
There was only one option left.
The trump card.
Danzō leaped backward. Out of striking range.
Kunai in his left hand. Defensive stance.
His right hand moved to his head. Started unwrapping the bandages.
Kagami... I need your help. One more time.
Inside Zhong Kui's Cockpit
"What the hell is this old bastard doing?"
Sasori's fingers danced across the control panel. The display zoomed in on Danzō's face.
The bandages fell away.
And beneath them—
Sasori's eyes went wide.
"A Sharingan?!"
Jinghang's lessons echoed in his head. Two powers you never underestimate. Wood Release. And the Sharingan.
Sasori zoomed closer. Enhanced the image.
Three tomoe. Connected. Forming a blade pattern.
His blood ran cold.
"No. No way. That's—"
It was possible.
Uchiha Kagami had been Tobirama's student. One of the rare Uchiha the Second Hokage actually respected. Talented. Loyal. One step away from awakening the Mangekyō before he died.
The Second Kazekage had torn those eyes out during the war. Shamon's final act before Danzō's Vacuum Sphere ended him.
The eyes went to Jinghang. Who'd given one to Gaojin. And the other?
A "gift" to Danzō. Ten years ago. Ceasefire diplomacy.
Kakashi got Obito's Sharingan at fourteen. Awakened Mangekyō at twenty-six. Twelve years total.
Danzō had been stronger than Kakashi when he got Kagami's eye. And he'd had ten years.
More than enough time.
The Sharingan was power. Tsukuyomi. Amaterasu. Kotoamatsukami. Susanoo.
But it came with a cost. Chakra drain. Blindness. Madness. And for non-Uchiha? Limited potential. Stunted growth.
(In the original timeline, Danzō had been an idiot. Ten Sharingan embedded in his arm. Hashirama cells to compensate. A Kage-level fighter reduced to someone who couldn't beat a teenager. Who nearly turned into a tree. Who died sealing a bridge.
But without Sharingan? Danzō had been strong. He'd taken Shisui's eye with two moves. Shisui—Konoha's greatest genjutsu user, Mangekyō already awakened—hadn't stood a chance.)
Sasori's hands moved.
"Zhong Kui can't handle this."
He pulled a scroll from his vest.
The mecha unfolded. Panels separating. Sasori emerged from the cockpit—smooth, practiced—and sealed the entire war machine in a single motion.
Danzō's smile was cold.
Now you understand. Too late, boy. That scrap metal never stood a chance.
The Mangekyō Sharingan spun.
[Author Note: Brainstorm time—what should Uchiha Kagami's Mangekyō ability be? Drop your ideas!]
[Combat Note: Mecha vs Sharingan = technology vs bloodline. Sasori's "oh shit" moment = recognizing he's outmatched. Danzō's confidence = veteran who knows his trump card. Power escalation building toward ability reveal.]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
📚 BOOK COMPLETED ON PATREON!📚
This story has reached its conclusion on my Patreon!
🔥 Full story available now
💎 Exclusive bonus content & early access to new books
👉 Join my Patreon community today!
[✨patreon.com/DarkGolds]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━