Letting the Nine-Tails run wild was a "victory" no one could afford. Retreat was the only logical choice, but on a battlefield this chaotic, "choosing" to leave is much easier said than done.
Hagoromo was still standing, but his face had turned a deathly shade of waxen white. The problem wasn't just exhaustion; it was blood loss. While his Lightning Release granted him God-like speed and power, the electrical stimulation acted as a double-edged sword—it kept his nervous system firing, but the intense heat and currents prevented his wounds from clotting. He was effectively a leaking battery, and the dizziness was starting to set in.
He wasn't the First Hokage; he didn't have a legendary healing factor. If he fainted here from blood loss, he was as good as dead.
As the circle of Konoha defenders around them grew thinner, Hagoromo's mind flickered to a research paper he had once written in his past life: "A Comparative Analysis of the Defensive Properties of the Lightning Armor vs. the Barrier-Barrier Fruit." He knew exactly how the Raikage felt, but he lacked that monstrous durability.
"Kushina-sensei, you are their primary target. Staying here is a death sentence. We need to go," Hagoromo urged again.
"I know! But how?!" Kushina's frustration was peaking. Seeing Konoha ninjas die one after another to shield her was tearing her apart. She found herself wishing Minato was there—with his Flying Thunder God, they could be anywhere else in an instant.
As if reading her mind, Hagoromo spoke up. "I have another 'not-quite-a-solution' solution."
"What is it?" Kushina asked. His previous "solution" had literally deleted the Shukaku from the map, so she was inclined to listen.
"I can fly," Hagoromo said with absolute gravity.
He didn't mean literal flight, nor did he mean electromagnetic levitation. After his minute-long Railgun barrage, he didn't have the energy reserves for long-distance high-altitude travel. If he tried and ran out of juice mid-air, they'd just be falling targets.
Kushina, still thinking of Minato, jumped to a conclusion. "Flying Thunder God?! I didn't know you spent enough time with Minato to learn an S-Rank space-time ninjutsu!"
"Close, but no," Hagoromo corrected. "I have the 'Flying' part, but none of the 'Thunder God.' Space-time ninjutsu is complex, but if a ninja is willing to gamble their life, anyone can try it. Though, unlucky ninjas usually die in the attempt."
Kushina's eyes widened. "You mean... Reverse Summoning?"
It was a desperate move. Summoning Jutsu and Reverse Summoning are indeed space-time techniques. Usually, without a contract with a specific animal realm, attempting a Reverse Summoning results in the user being scattered across random dimensions—or simply ceasing to exist. It was a suicide mission.
Hagoromo began weaving hand signs. "Don't worry, Sensei. I've 'improved' the formula..."
This was technically true. Hagoromo had long obsessed over escape plans for when he was inevitably surrounded. He had spent months tweaking the theoretical framework of the Reverse Summoning formula to act as a blind jump. However, due to his lack of advanced sealing knowledge, he'd never actually tested it. He sounded confident, but in reality? Heaven only knew where they were going.
"Theoretically, it can carry two people just as easily as one, and it should deposit us in a stable spatial coordinate. Theoretically, it's safe."
Kushina didn't find the word "theoretically" very comforting. "Hagoromo, wait—"
Before she could finish, Hagoromo completed the signs and grabbed her arm.
In a flash of white light, the Sand ninjas watched as their two highest-value targets vanished from the battlefield as if they had never been there.
When Hagoromo finally opened his eyes, he was met with a splitting headache. He sat up and scanned his surroundings.
Kushina was gone. She wasn't beside him.
He tried not to panic. If he had survived the jump, the technique was fundamentally successful, which meant she should be safe somewhere nearby. Theoretically.
He was in an unknown, enclosed space. Fatigue and pain were finally catching up. He had over a dozen wounds; none were deep, but the cumulative blood loss was pushing him to his limit. Using his limited medical knowledge, he confirmed there were no immediate threats and began to patch himself up.
He was at his limit. He couldn't afford to use Lightning Release for a while—it would just reopen his wounds and drain his remaining life force. Without his electricity, his combat power plummeted.
At least this place seems safe, he thought.
Unbeknownst to him, that thought was the ultimate FLAG.