Pain came before consciousness.
A violent spike pierced his head, as if incandescent needles were being driven deep into his skull. The boy woke up gasping, his small body twisting atop a simple mattress, soaked in sweat.
— Ahn…!
Air tore into his lungs. The world spun.
Then the memories came.
Not gently, but as a brutal flood.
A modest wooden house.
A woman smiling as she tied his shoes.
A broad-shouldered man, smelling of wind and dust, training in the yard with a kunai.
Laughter.
Falls.
First steps.
First words.
Four years.
Four years of memories that were not his… yet now were carved too deeply to be ignored. Emotions came with them, tangled together: attachment, fear, safety. A simple, real childhood he had just taken over.
He clutched his head, heart racing as everything was forced into place.
— This… isn't mine…
But before denial could settle, another layer surfaced.
A different life.
A screen glowing in the dark. A silent room. Endless hours consuming stories he had never imagined would become real.
*Naruto.*
*Dragon Ball.*
*One Piece.*
*Marvel.*
*DC.*
*Ben 10.*
Narratives of power, downfall, and sacrifice.
Then, like a blunt удар to the stomach, the final realization struck.
The ceiling wasn't concrete.
The walls had no wires or outlets.
The air felt… alive.
Chakra.
He hadn't learned the name here. He simply knew it.
He sat up abruptly, ignoring the dizziness, eyes sweeping across the room.
The silence of the place was not empty.
It was old.
The wooden walls creaked softly, as if breathing alongside the house. Morning light cut through the narrow window in gentle blades, revealing dust particles suspended in the air, drifting with near-reverence. Few pieces of furniture occupied the space: a low bed, a timeworn chest, a folded scroll forgotten on a simple shelf.
The place did not scream *ninja*.
It whispered *home*.
Outside, the wind carried the scent of packed earth and green leaves. Distant sounds blended together — footsteps, voices, the rhythmic impact of something being thrown. A village waking up.
A living village.
Yet beneath it all, there was something more.
A subtle, constant pressure permeated everything, passing through wood, air, and flesh with equal ease. An invisible flow, ancient, like an underground river that never ceased.
Chakra.
Not explosive. Not hostile. Simply present.
The beauty of the place did not erase its nature. Like ancient tales where majestic forests hid cruel creatures, that village — serene beneath the morning light — was also a place where children learned to kill before learning how to live.
Konoha was neither good nor evil.
It was necessary.
And that was what made it dangerous.
That was when awareness truly struck.
*Danzo.*
The name surfaced thick and repulsive, heavy with shadow. Children used as tools. Twisted loyalty. Roots buried too deep to be torn out.
Then came another.
*Hiruzen Sarutobi.*
The kindly grandfather. The tired smile.
The man who knew… and allowed.
Two faces. Two choices. Neither clean.
The weight grew heavier.
*Madara Uchiha.*
Not a villain. A calamity. A man who bent eras like dry leaves, turning wars into games and lives into disposable pieces.
And behind him…
*Zetsu.*
The silent manipulator. The whisper that crossed centuries, pushing history toward the abyss.
The final thought was the coldest of all.
*Ōtsutsuki.*
Parasitic gods. Harvested worlds. Civilizations reduced to fuel.
If they existed… then there was no safety. No reliable script. No guaranteed endings.
He was not the protagonist.
And knowledge, by itself, was not power.
Fear threatened to rise — but he restrained it.
He breathed in deeply.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He forced the air in slowly, imposing order on the internal chaos. Panic never helped. Not in any story.
He planted his feet on the cold floor, feeling the roughness of the wood.
— Think… first — he murmured.
That was when something different stirred.
Not a voice.
Not an image.
A sense of alignment.
A faint hum echoed within his mind, far too organized to be imagination.
> **— Synchronization detected.**
> **— External consciousness stabilized.**
> **— Memory integration: 100%.**
He froze, but did not panic. He simply observed.
> **— Verifying compatibility with Primary System.**
> **— Environment recognized: Ninja World.**
> **— Available energy source: Chakra.**
A chill ran down his spine.
> **— Core System: Missions and Rewards — ONLINE.**
> **— Optional Module detected: Nano Machine — LOCKED.**
> **— Reason: Insufficient chakra.**
Silence followed.
No promises. No instructions. Only presence.
He opened his eyes slowly, calm now firm, though tense.
— …Alright — he whispered to himself.
— One step at a time.
The ninja world was still an abyss filled with monsters.
But now…
he was no longer falling blindly.
-