A knot of Genin shifted nervously at the edge of the Forest of Death. You could practically *feel* the ominous vibe rolling off it. The trees were huge, ahings, stretg on and on, their thick leaves blog out most of the sky and casting everything below in a gloomy half-light. The shadows seemed to writhe and deepen with every little breeze, like the woods themselves were holding their breath, watg. The air was charged with tension, the weight of it bearing down on everyone like an invisible force field.

  Then Anko Mitarashi stepped forward. She just had this way about her that instantly atention. Her grin, though, wasly reassuring. It was sharp, almost cruel, and it seemed to cut right through the flimsy attempts at bravado the young ninja were putting on. And the way she spoke… it was like a predator toying with its prey, all pyful and dangerous at the same time.

  “Listen up!” she began, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a whip crack. Her eyes swept over the crowd, lingering just long enough on the nervous faces to make their owners squirm. “This isn’t some kiddie training exercise. Each team will start with one scroll—either a Heaven scroll or ah scroll. Your mission is simple: secure the opposite scroll and make it to the tower in the ter of the forest within five days.”

  Her words settled over the Genin like a storm cloud, dark and full of mehe enormity of the challenge sank in, their uneasy gnces betraying a mix of doubt and fear.

  Anko’s smirk widened, a wicked gleam in her eye. “Of course,” she tinued, sav the tension, “you’ll have to take that scroll from aeam. A me warn you, this forest doesn’t need me to make it deadly. Everything inside is desigo kill you—if the other teams don’t get to you first.”

  The impact of her words made the atmosphere even more tense. A feeling of unease spread through the Genin, who shifted restlessly. Even those who tried to appear fident couldn't pletely hide their ay.

  “Ah, and one more thing,” Anko added, pausing dramatically, her voice dripping with mock cheer. “If you lose your scroll or fail to reach the tower withiime limit, you fail. Oh, and try not to die. ing up the mess is such a drag.”

  Her words just hung in the air, a cruel joke with a serious edge. The way she dismissed the idea of them dying showed just how tough this test would be. The proctors came forward, holding scrolls that gleamed softly in the dim light.

  Anko threw the scrolls to them, and they quickly began giving them to each team. Each team took a scroll, feeling both relieved and scared, holding the small tubes like they were holding their fate.

  Kuro caught their scroll—a Heaven soving fast but carefully. The scroll felt surprisingly heavy, like he was suddenly carrying the entire missio it safely in his bag, already thinking about strategies and possible threats.

  All around him, the atmosphere buzzed with suppressed energy. Teams whispered hurried pns, others stared silently at the gates, their faces grim. The Forest of Death loomed ahead, its maw open wide, ready to devour the unprepared.

  As the gates came into view, a wave of anticipatiohrough the Genin. Their whispers rose and fell like the leaves rustling in the Forest of Death. The air crackled with tension as teams huddled together, finalizing their pns—or at least pretending to be fident.

  Kuro’s team stood a little separate, a picture of trolled chaos. Xero’s raven bck eye shoh restless energy as he stretched, eaent exaggerated to show off how ready he was. He grinned widely, almost like a predator, and smmed his fist into his open palm. “Now this is more like it!” he shouted, loud enough for some nearby teams to hear. “A real challenge, some a, and maybe even a good fight to make things iing!”

  Reika, her crimson hair catg the st rays of sunlight that pierced the cloud cover, rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. She stood with practiced elegance, one haing lightly on her hip as the other absently brushed a stray lock of hair back. “It’s not about fighting every team we see, Xero,” she said, her tone calm but edged with a sly uohe smartest move is tet the weakest team, grab their scroll, and move on. Efficy is key.”

  Xero scoffed, his grin never wavering. “Sure, strategy’s nid all, but where’s the fun in that? We’re here to prove we’re the best, not sneak around like cowards.”

  Leaning zily against a nearby tree, Kuro remained silent, his dark eyes sing the surroundings. He watched the other teams, noting their postures, their expressions, and the way they clutched their scrolls with varying degrees of nervousness. His mind was already calg, assembling a mental map of threats and opportunities. He gnced briefly at Reika, his expression unreadable, then to Xero, whose exuberance he knew could be both an asset and a liability.

  “Focus,” Kuro finally said, his tone low but firm. It was enough to pull Xero and Reika into a momentary truce, their banter pausing as they turheir attention back to the task at hand.

  Not far away, Ino Yamanaka’s attention was elsewhere. Her sharp eyes were fixed on Kuro, a faint smile pying on her lips. She stood slightly ahead of her teammates, her posture casual but her i clear. “Maybe we should stick close to Kuro’s team,” she suggested, her voice ced with just enough nonce to veil her true feelings. “You know, just in case they need backup.”

  Shikamaru groaned audibly, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. “Troublesome,” he muttered, his gaze zily following the dire of hers. “We’ve got our own problems to deal with, Ino. The st thing we need is to get dragged into their mess.”

  “But Kuro’s smart,” Ino tered, her tone almost defensive. “And strong. It wouldn’t hurt to be nearby… strategically speaking.”