Naruto : Infinite Buff!

A figure stepped forward, a masked ninja, his presence sharp and suffocating. His eyes swept across the fragile forms before him, cold and unfeeling.

"Left side," he said, his voice cutting like a blade. "Those chosen for training, and experiments."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Your lives do not matter," he continued. "Only the strong survive."

The silence shattered.

"No, please!" a boy screamed, clawing at the ground as two guards dragged him away. "I don't want to die!"

Another child stumbled backward, tears streaming down her face. "Not me! Don't take me!" she cried, clutching her chest like it could protect her.

The guards moved without hesitation, their hands grabbing arms, collars, hair—whatever was within reach. Children were torn from the group like cattle for slaughter, their cries echoing through the chamber.

Amatsu stood in the chaos, unmoving. His dark eyes, cold and calculating, watched as the children were divided.

When a guard grabbed his arm, he didn't resist. No pleading, no tears. His body moved with the guard's pull, steps steady and deliberate.

"What is this one thinking?" the guard muttered under his breath, glancing at Amatsu. But the boy's face revealed nothing—no fear, no defiance. Just calm, unsettling silence.

Some clung to each other, desperate for comfort that would never come. the others stood pale and trembling.

Amatsu was placed on the left. He scanned the room, his gaze sharp and unfeeling.

Weak. Broken. Useless. These words echoed in his mind as he watched the children on the right side crumble into sobs.

The ninja's voice cut through the noise once more. "Move them out."

The guards herded the batch, their cries fading into the oppressive silence.

Amatsu's steps were measured as he followed the group forward. Fear was a distraction. Only survival mattered.

---

The dimly lit underground corridor was suffocating, its walls narrowing as though trying to crush the life out of those who walked it. The air was damp, the faint stench of blood and decay lingering like a ghost. Shadows danced along the walls, flickering with each step taken. The group of forty children shuffled forward, their frail bodies trembling under the weight of fear and exhaustion.

Amatsu walked among them, his steps measured and deliberate. He stood apart from the others, his dark eyes scanning the corridor ahead. His face betrayed nothing—no fear, no exhaustion, no emotion. The cries of the children around him were irrelevant, their weakness a noise he had long learned to tune out.

Ahead, the corridor opened into a massive chamber, its walls lined with intricate seals that pulsed faintly in the dim light. At the center of the chamber stood a colossal iron gate, its surface covered in rust and claw marks. The air grew colder as they approached, the chill biting into their skin like needles.

Four masked guards stood before the gate, their presence oppressive. Their movements were mechanical as they unrolled a scroll, pressing their hands against its surface. The seals flared to life, casting an eerie green glow across the chamber. The gate groaned, the sound like the roar of a beast as it slowly creaked open.

Beyond the gate was a forest, but not one that offered any comfort. The trees were twisted, their gnarled branches clawing at the mist-laden sky. The ground was uneven, littered with jagged rocks and patches of dead grass. A faint metallic stench hung in the air, and distant roars echoed through the forest, sending shivers through the children.

"Stop here," one of the guards barked, his voice cold and sharp.

The children froze, their trembling forms huddling together like frightened animals. Amatsu remained still, his gaze fixed on the forest beyond.

"You have one purpose here," the guard continued, his tone devoid of emotion. "Survive."

The word hung in the air, heavy and final.

Another guard stepped forward, his voice equally cold. "You will learn to use chakra, or you will die. Food will appear at intervals, but there are no rules. Kill, steal, betray—do whatever you must to live. Those who are weak have no place here."

A boy near the front whimpered, his voice shaking. "P-please…" he stammered, his eyes wide with terror. "I don't want to do this. I want to go home…"

The guard didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he drew a kunai and plunged it into the boy's throat. Blood sprayed across the ground as the boy collapsed, his body twitching before falling still.

The chamber fell into silence. The children stared at the body, their eyes wide with horror.

"Let this be your first lesson," the guard said, his tone icy. "Weakness is death."

Amatsu didn't flinch at the sight of the boy's lifeless body. He had seen worse, endured worse. His gaze shifted to the other children, noting their trembling hands, their tear-streaked faces. Weak. Broken. Useless.

The gate creaked open fully, revealing the forest in its entirety. The guards stepped aside, motioning for the children to enter.

"Go," one of them commanded. "Your trial begins now."

The children hesitated, their fear rooting them to the spot.

Amatsu was the first to move. His steps were calm, unhurried, as though the forest held no more threat than the corridor behind him. His dark eyes scanned the terrain ahead, calculating the best path forward. Behind him, the other children began to follow, their steps clumsy and hesitant.

As they entered the forest, the gate groaned shut behind them, the sound reverberating through the air like a death knell.

---

Hours passed, the forest growing darker with each step. The children moved in clusters, their fear keeping them close together. Whispers filled the air—desperate, trembling voices clinging to some shred of hope.

Amatsu walked alone, his gaze fixed ahead. Fear was a weakness, and he had no use for it. His body moved with practiced ease, his mind sharp and calculating.

A clearing appeared ahead, and with it, a group of masked ninjas. The children froze as the ninjas unrolled a scroll, their movements precise and deliberate.

With a puff of smoke, supplies appeared in the center of the clearing—just enough to feed a fraction of the group.

The children stared at the supplies, their eyes wide with desperation. For a moment, no one moved, the silence stretching thin. Then, like a dam breaking, the group surged forward, a stampede of frail bodies clawing and shoving for survival.

Cries filled the air as the children fought, their desperation turning them into animals.

"I need it!" a boy screamed, his hands clawing at a bag of rice.

"Let go!" another shouted, slamming his fist into the first boy's face. Blood sprayed as the boy fell, but he didn't stop, scrambling back to his feet with wild eyes.

A girl was shoved to the ground, her cries drowned out by the chaos around her. "Please, stop!" she sobbed, her voice lost in the frenzy.

Amatsu remained on the edge of the clearing, his dark eyes watching the chaos unfold. He didn't move, didn't join the frenzy. Instead, he studied the patterns of movement, watching as the strongest took what they wanted while the weak were trampled underfoot.

"Pointless," he muttered under his breath.

His gaze shifted to the supplies, noting the ones that had been overlooked in the chaos. He moved silently, his steps precise and calculated. While the others fought, he slipped between them, his movements unnoticed.

Within moments, he had secured what he needed-a small bag of dried meat and a canteen of water. He stepped back into the shadows, his presence vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

The cries continued, the clearing descending further into chaos. Amatsu leaned against a tree, watching as the children tore each other apart.

"Most of them won't last the week," he thought, his gaze cold and detached. "Weak. Broken. Useless."

But amidst the chaos, his eyes caught something unusual.

A girl, no older than six or seven, stood at the edge of the clearing. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and a faint mist curled around her feet like living shadows.

She moved with grace, her small frame shielding a younger boy behind her. When a larger child tried to snatch her food, she stepped forward, her voice calm and unwavering. "No."

The boy hesitated, his hand frozen mid-grab. There was something about her presence—something unnatural, almost terrifying.

Amatsu watched her, his gaze narrowing. "Interesting," he thought.

---

The clearing was still a battlefield of desperation. Children clawed at each other, their cries and screams filling the cold air. Blood smeared the ground where weaker ones had been trampled or beaten unconscious. But at the edge of the chaos, the crimson-eyed girl remained calm, her presence unnerving.

The boy in front of her—a larger, brutish child—stared at her, his hand still hovering mid-grab. The boy sneered, trying to mask his hesitation. "You think you're special?" he spat, stepping closer, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "Give me the food before I take it!"

The younger boy behind the girl whimpered, clutching her tattered sleeve. "Please, don't…" he whispered.

Amatsu's dark gaze flicked between them from the shadows, watching the scene unfold with interest. The girl's composure in the face of the brute was unusual. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly, unblinking, as she stared at the boy.

"No," she said simply, her voice steady and soft but carrying a weight that froze the larger boy in place.

The boy growled, his fear turning to anger. He lunged forward, his hands reaching for the small pouch of food clutched in her hand.

It happened in a blur.

The girl stepped to the side, her movement fluid and effortless. The boy's hands grasped at empty air, and before he could recover, the girl's foot swept out, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The larger boy cursed, his face contorted with rage as he scrambled to his feet. "You little—!"

Before he could finish, Amatsu stepped forward from the shadows.

"Enough..." Amatsu said calmly, his voice cold and sharp.

The larger boy froze, turning to Amatsu. His anger faltered as he met the nine-year-old's gaze, dark and unrelenting. Amatsu's presence carried no fury, no emotion—only a calm, calculated intensity that made the boy hesitate.

"Who do you think you are?" the larger boy growled, trying to hide his unease. "Stay out of this!"

Amatsu didn't respond. He moved swiftly, his movements sharp and precise. His fist struck the boy's stomach with brutal efficiency, forcing the air from his lungs. The larger boy staggered, gasping, but Amatsu didn't stop. His elbow slammed into the side of the boy's head, sending him crashing to the ground.

The clearing grew quieter as the scuffle caught the attention of the others. Amatsu stood over the larger boy, his dark eyes cold and unyielding. "Leave," he said simply.

The brute glared up at him, clutching his side. For a moment, it seemed like he might retaliate, but the look in Amatsu's eyes made him think twice. With a grunt, he stumbled to his feet and limped away, disappearing into the trees.

Amatsu turned to the crimson-eyed girl. She was still standing in the same spot, her crimson gaze fixed on him. Her younger companion clung to her arm, his wide eyes filled with both fear and awe.

"You didn't have to help," the girl said softly, her voice calm and steady.

Amatsu's gaze lingered on her for a moment. She was different. Her composure, her movements, even her eyes—it all set her apart from the rest of the trembling, desperate children.

"They were wasting my time," Amatsu replied coldly, turning away. He began walking back toward the edge of the clearing.

"Still," the girl said, and Amatsu stopped. "Thank you."

Her words were simple, but they carried a warmth that felt foreign in this place. Amatsu didn't respond. He continued walking, his steps measured and deliberate.

---

By the end of the first day, the clearing was quiet again. Many of the children had scattered, retreating into the forest with whatever scraps of food they could secure. Others lay unconscious or worse, their small bodies limp on the blood-stained ground.

Amatsu sat at the base of a tree, his back against the rough bark. His small bag of food sat untouched in his lap. He had waited until the chaos had died down before eating, his survival instincts honed to avoid unnecessary risks.

The rustling of leaves caught his attention. He didn't move, his dark eyes flicking to the side.

The crimson-eyed girl stepped into view, her younger companion trailing behind her. She held a small piece of bread in her hands, and though her expression remained calm, her presence carried an unspoken tension.

Amatsu said nothing as she approached. He watched her silently, his gaze unreadable. She stopped a few feet away, holding out the bread toward him.

"You helped me," she said simply. "Take this."

Amatsu stared at the bread, then at her. "I don't need it," he said flatly.

The younger boy tugged at her sleeve. "But you're hungry…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

The girl shook her head, her crimson eyes still locked on Amatsu. "You saved us. This is yours."

Amatsu hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking the bread. He didn't thank her. Instead, he broke it in half and handed one piece back to her.

"Eat," he said, his tone commanding.

The girl's expression didn't change, but she accepted the bread without argument. She sat down a short distance from him, her younger companion curling up beside her.

For a while, none of them spoke. The forest was quiet now, save for the occasional distant howl or the rustling of leaves in the cold breeze.

Amatsu watched the girl from the corner of his eye. She was different from the others—calm, composed, and strangely selfless. In this place, kindness was a weakness, a trait that would get her killed.

"You won't survive," Amatsu said suddenly, his voice low.

The girl glanced at him, her crimson eyes steady. "Why?"

"Kindness is pointless here," he said coldly. "You'll die if you keep giving away what little you have."

The girl didn't respond immediately. She looked down at her hands, then back at Amatsu. "Maybe," she said softly. "But I'd rather die myself than let someone else suffer because of me."

Her words unsettled Amatsu, though he didn't show it. He turned his gaze away, focusing on the dark forest beyond.

"Foolish," he muttered under his breath.

But something about her presence lingered in his mind. A warmth he couldn't quite understand.

---

Over the following days, the girl began to follow Amatsu. She didn't speak much, but her presence became constant, a strange companion in a place that demanded isolation.

At first, Amatsu tolerated her only because she didn't slow him down. She moved with an eerie grace, her crimson eyes always scanning their surroundings. When food appeared, she would secure her share with quiet determination, never needing his help.

Still, she shared what she had with him, even when it meant going hungry herself. Amatsu didn't understand her selflessness, but he began to accept it.

For the first time in a long while, he felt something unfamiliar.

Not trust. Not friendship.

But a flicker of warmth in the cold darkness.

Amatsu's gaze lingered-bread on his hand , his voice low and cold, carrying the weight of a memory long buried. "A bread... the second time my life clings to this mockery of survival."