obito n marvel (remake)

Jason's rise in the ranks of the Hand Ninja wasn't going to be easy. Despite his considerable talents and the raw power granted by the Sharingan, there was always someone watching. His every move was scrutinized, and the Hand Ninja, a ruthless organization, demanded results. The first major test came sooner than expected.

Jason had been on missions for a few weeks now, running small errands—smuggling weapons, assassinating low-level targets, and gathering intelligence for the Hand. His abilities were still growing, his knowledge of his new world sharpening like the edge of a blade. The Hand wasn't ready to entrust him with anything major just yet, but he knew that would change soon.

The first real challenge came when Kiryu, the leader of the Hand, summoned him for a special mission.

"Obito," Kiryu's voice was as cold as ever. "There's a village in the outskirts of this territory that's been causing problems for us. They've been providing shelter to some of our enemies—rogue ninjas, mercenaries. I want you to handle it. Take care of everyone there. Show them what happens when you cross the Hand."

Jason's pulse quickened. This was it—the opportunity he had been waiting for. To prove himself, to show the Hand that he was capable of much more than just being a tool for their dirty work. He couldn't afford to fail, especially with his ambitions growing by the day. This mission would be the stepping stone to his larger goals.

"Yes, Kiryu," Jason replied, his voice calm and collected, though a fire burned deep within him. "Consider it done."

He was given a small group of elite Hand operatives, all seasoned killers. They were fast, brutal, and silent. Jason's presence in their group was met with scepticism. He was still a rookie, after all, and many of the others had seen enough blood to drown a village. But Jason didn't need to prove himself to them. He only needed to prove it to Kiryu—and to himself.

As they approached the village under the cover of night, Jason could already feel the anticipation building in his chest. This was no ordinary mission. The village, while small, had been a thorn in the Hand's side for years. It was surrounded by strong, mercenary fighters who were known for their deadly techniques.

Jason and his team made their move quickly, slipping through the shadows like phantoms. Jason could feel the familiar power surging within him—his Sharingan activated, and everything around him slowed. His vision was clearer than ever before, each movement of his enemies no longer a blur, but a predictable path. He could see the mercenaries posted at the perimeter, unaware of the storm that was about to hit them.

In a flash, Jason was on them. His kunai flashed in the moonlight, and within seconds, two mercenaries were dead, their throats slit cleanly. The Hand operatives moved in, following his lead. There was no hesitation in their actions; they had seen Jason's power first-hand. They knew what he was capable of. But Jason didn't need them to follow him—he needed them to stay out of his way.

His Sharingan allowed him to predict every movement, every attack before it even happened. He could sense the shift in the air, the briefest change in the wind that signalled a hidden attacker. The next mercenary lunged at him from behind, a blade aimed at his heart. But Jason was already turning, his body moving with fluid grace. The blade missed him by inches. He grabbed the man's wrist mid-strike, twisting his arm until a sickening crack echoed through the air. The mercenary's scream was cut short as Jason drove his kunai into his throat.

Jason's mind was a whirlwind of calculations, his senses heightened to a supernatural degree. The blood splattering around him was nothing more than a backdrop to the cold logic driving him forward. This wasn't just a mission. This was a message.

The village was in chaos as the Hand operatives stormed through, cutting down anyone in their path. Jason, however, moved with methodical precision. He didn't need to kill everyone. He only needed to cripple their forces, leaving the survivors to send a message back to whoever was behind the resistance.

By the time the sun began to rise, the village was littered with the bodies of mercenaries and villagers alike. Smoke rose from the remnants of houses that had been set aflame, and the scent of blood lingered in the air.

Jason stood over the final target—a man who had been the leader of the mercenaries. His eyes were wide with fear as Jason approached. The man knew his fate was sealed.

Jason didn't speak. There was no need. With one swift motion, he ended the man's life, his blade cutting through his throat effortlessly.

As the mission came to a close, Jason stood amidst the carnage, his breath steady, his heart cold. The Hand had won, but Jason had made a statement. This village wouldn't be the last to feel his power. The message had been clear. No one would stand in his way.

When he returned to the Hand's headquarters, Kiryu was waiting for him, his eyes unreadable as he took in the report of the mission.

"You've done well, Obito," Kiryu said. "You've proven that you're more than just a tool. You're an asset. From now on, you'll be given more responsibility."

Jason nodded, his mind already racing with plans. This mission had been only the beginning. The Hand was useful, but it was just a stepping stone. His true goal lay beyond this criminal organization. But for now, he would play the part. He would rise through the ranks, gain more power, and build the foundations for the world he intended to create.