Konan's words hit the room like a dropped kunai in a silent temple.
Both Pain and the masked man had different reactions.
"The Third Kazekage… is dead?" Obito repeated slowly once again, like he didn't quite trust his own ears.
He leaned forward slightly, voice dry. "Wasn't he supposed to be, you know… indestructible?"
Pain frowned, arms still crossed. "Sasori did it?"
There was a pause.
The kind of pause that smells like disbelief and unspoken curses.
Even Pain—who rarely blinked at entire villages being turned to ash—looked thrown off. Konan just stood quietly, letting the weight of it all settle.
Obito turned, his voice sharper now. "You're sure it was him? The real Kazekage?"
"Positive," Konan replied.
Then… she hesitated.
Both men caught it.
That split-second crack in her confidence made them straighten slightly.
"I saw it myself," she continued, her voice even but quieter. "It was the real Third Kazekage."
"But," she added, "he wasn't killed by Sasori."
Pain's frown deepened. Obito tilted his head.
"…Who then?"
Konan took a breath, like even saying the name out loud would summon something she wasn't ready to face.
"A young man," she said.
A pause.
"Zeldris."
The name hung there awkwardly in the air, like someone had just announced their killer was named Chad.
"Zeldris?" Obito echoed. "Who the hell is Zeldris?"
Pain's brow creased. "Never heard of him."
Konan shook her head. "Neither had I. But I watched him kill the Kazekage. Instantly. No jutsu. No puppet tricks. Just… raw force."
Obito was silent. Pain didn't move.
Even the paper in Konan's hair seemed stiller than usual.
She went on, her tone slipping into something more unsettled. "It wasn't just strength. It was wrong. Like watching gravity glitch."
She paused, swallowing.
"He punched the Kazekage… and space shattered."
Obito blinked. "I'm sorry. Did you say he punched space?"
Konan just nodded.
Another silence fell. Longer this time. Heavier.
"…So, a random teenage warhead shows up, erases a Kage with a haymaker, and walks away like it's Tuesday," Obito muttered, rubbing the side of his mask. "That's… great. That's just great."
He turned to Konan. "Did you at least try to recruit him?"
"I did."
"And?"
"He said no."
"Ah." Obito nodded slowly. "Naturally. Why join the most powerful rogue organization in the world when you can cosplay as a freelance war god."
"He didn't just say no," Konan added. "He's building something. An organization of his own."
Both men looked at her sharply.
She reached into her cloak and pulled out a card, holding it out like it burned.
Pain stepped forward and took it, turning it over in his hand. Then he passed it to Obito.
Obito read it aloud, his tone somewhere between amused and deeply annoyed:
Zeldris
Ninja Mercenary
"If the world's a mess, I'll clean it up. For a fee."
There was a long beat of silence.
Then Obito laughed.
A short, sharp chuckle that echoed off the stone walls.
"This guy made a business card?"
He turned to Konan, voice suddenly colder.
"Get me everything. Background. Bloodline. Favorite food. I don't care if he writes his jutsu on ramen receipts—I want to know everything."
He turned to Pain. "And leak the Kazekage's death. Let the villages stew in it. Fear always shakes things loose."
Pain nodded.
"And you?" Konan asked.
Obito's tone dropped several degrees.
"I'll go meet him myself."
He stared down at the card one last time, his voice like steel behind the mask.
"If he's really as strong as you say… he joins us."
"And if he doesn't?"
He looked up.
"Then we kill him before he becomes a problem with a logo."
Konan raised an eyebrow. "That card did have a logo."
"I hate him already," Obito muttered.
Then, without another word, the space around his right eye twisted into a whirlpool. The air bent, shimmered, and pulled inward—until he was gone, leaving only the faint sound of distorted wind in his place.
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