The Prince of the Underworld: World of Gods

The Valley of the End, located on the border of the Land of Fire, is a place where geography itself pays homage to legend. There, the colossal statues of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha stand facing each other, separated by an eternal waterfall that roars with the force of their history. It was in this setting that the two founders fought their final battle, sealing the fate of an era with Hashirama’s victory. However, the present carried with it an echo of that past; an event similar in magnitude, but different in its essence, was about to unfold upon these same waters.

The sky had turned a leaden gray, as if nature itself were holding its breath. Atop the crown of Madara’s statue, Sasuke Uchiha stood, his gaze lost on the horizon, consumed by a thirst for power and the stigma of the Cursed Seal creeping up his neck. Before him, atop Hashirama’s head, Naruto Uzumaki breathed heavily. His orange uniform was torn, and his face showed a mixture of exhaustion and unwavering determination.

“Do you really think going with Orochimaru will give you what you’re looking for, Sasuke?” Naruto asked. His voice was barely audible.exceededthe roar of the falling water, but it carried the weight of a promise.

Sasuke remained unfazed. His eyes, now red with the Sharingan, locked onto his companion’s. The coldness in his expression was absolute, an insurmountable barrier seeking to sever any remaining ties that bound him to the Hidden Leaf Village.

“You don’t understand, Naruto,” Sasuke replied with icy calm. “You have nothing, you never had anything. You can’t understand what it means to lose everything. My path is darkness, and you are merely an obstacle in it.”

Without another word, Sasuke leaped from the top of the monument. The air whistled around him as he plummeted. Naruto reacted instantly, propelling himself forward with a war cry that erupted from deep within his chest. They collided in the center of the lagoon, above the water’s surface, creating a shockwave that dispersed the mist.

The metal of the kunai clashed, sending sparks flying that quickly died down in the damp air. The fight wasn’t just a display of ninja skills; it was a clash of wills. Naruto threw desperate blows, trying to strike at his friend’s heart, while Sasuke responded with surgical precision, using his Sharingan to anticipate every move and counterattack with calculated violence.

The water beneath their feet churned violently. At that moment, the Valley of the End ceased to be a monument to the past and became the battlefield where the fate of two souls, united by tragedy and separated by ambition, would be decided.

The confrontation escalated with a violence that shook the valley to its foundations. Naruto, driven by unwavering loyalty, charged forward with brute force that defied logic, while Sasuke, his gaze growing ever more grim, used the sharpest reflexes of the Sharingan to dissect every attempted attack. Water leaped in violent columns beneath their footsteps, creating a dance of reflections and shadows in the fading daylight.

In a moment of tactical clarity, Sasuke leaped away, landing firmly on the liquid surface. He began performing a series of hand seals at an almost imperceptible speed. The sound of a thousand birds began to chitter, filling the space with a deafening, electric noise.ChidoriIt manifested in his left hand, a mass of bluish rays that devoured the calm of the environment.

Meanwhile, Naruto gathered the Nine-Tails’ crimson chakra, forming an orb of unstable energy in his palm. The clash seemed inevitable. They both launched themselves at each other, covering the distance in the blink of an eye. However, at the last second, Sasuke’s composure prevailed. With a precise movement, he deflected Naruto’s attack and plunged his electrically charged hand directly into the young Uzumaki’s chest.

Silence gripped the valley for a brief, agonizing second. Naruto was suspended, his body pierced by his best friend’s technique. But then, nature itself seemed to protest that act.

The sky, which until then had been only gray, erupted in a fury of thunder. Genuine lightning bolts descended from the clouds, striking the tops of the stone statues as if the cosmos were responding to the damage inflicted. At that moment, a supernatural phenomenon occurred within Naruto’s body.

From within, the Kyubi’s dense, fiery orange chakra began to bubble, attempting to seal the wound. However, a second force manifested from nowhere: a deep, absolute, black energy that emanated like a liquid shadow from the point of impact. This dark energyintertwinedwith the fox’s chakra, flowing over the torn flesh with terrifying efficiency.

Before Sasuke’s incredulous eyes, the wound on Naruto’s chest began to close. The tissue was rebuildingAt a speed that defied any known medicine, Naruto’s skin was flawless in an instant; there was no trace of blood, no scars, no evidence whatsoever that the Chidori had ever penetrated his body. It was as if time had been reversed on his wound, leaving the young Leaf ninja not only recovered, but shrouded in an aura of mystery that even Sasuke’s Sharingan couldn’t comprehend.

The battle did not stop in the face of that medical miracle; on the contrary, the tension in the Valley of the End doubled. Naruto, breathing with a frantic energy that made the air around him vibrate, looked at his hands and then at his chest, where his clothes remained torn but his skin appeared undamaged. In his mind, he attributed that miraculous recovery solely to the power of the Nine-Tailed Fox, assuming that the crimson chakra was the only source of that surge of life that had just saved him.

Sasuke, on the other hand, retreated several meters, gliding across the water. His sharp, analytical eyes were unconvinced. The Sharingan allowed him to see the flow of chakra, and that strange black energy that had intertwined with the Kyubi’s red aura was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was a different kind of darkness, one that seemed to devour the surrounding light. However, his obsession with victory didn’t allow him to hesitate for long.

“It doesn’t matter how many times you heal, Naruto,” Sasuke declared, his voice seeming to rise from the depths of the abyss. “If I can’t cut you, I’ll destroy you completely.”

At that moment, the Cursed Seal on Sasuke’s neck began to react violently. The black markings, which had previously only covered part of his skin, began to spread like dark flames, engulfing his entire body. The chakra emanating from him changed drastically; it was no longer that of an ordinary shinobi, but a dense, cold, and malevolent energy that made the water beneath his feet boil.

The transformation reached its peak: Level 2 of the Cursed Seal. Sasuke’s skin turned a somber grayish color, his hair grew longer and changed hue, and two fleshy, webbed limbs sprouted from his back, functioning as deformed wings. A dark mark crossed the bridge of his nose, giving him an appearance closer to that of a demon than the young Uchiha prodigy.

Naruto clenched his fists, feeling the fox’s chakra roar within him in response to the overwhelming pressure Sasuke was now exerting. The sky continued to roar with intermittent lightning, illuminating the faces of the two former friends. The neutrality of the landscape had been shattered; this was no longer a fight between children, but a clash between two forces that had transcended human limitations.

Sasuke spread his new wings and fixed his gaze on Naruto. The speed and power he now possessed promised to take the fight to a level of destruction that the statues of the founders hadn’t witnessed in decades.

Sasuke’s transformation into the second level of the Cursed Seal altered the atmospheric pressure of the valley. With a flap of his membranous wings, the Uchiha launched himself forward, leaving a trail of vapor on the water’s surface. Naruto barely had time to react before being struck, the impact sending him flying into the base of Hashirama’s statue, cracking the solid rock with the force of the blow.

Sasuke gave no quarter. His movements were now inhuman, fueled by a dark energy that warped his very anatomy. Every blow he landed carried seismic force. Naruto, trapped in a cycle of desperate defense, felt his bones crack under the onslaught, but that very agony was the catalyst that broke the last chains of the seal within him.

From the depths of his being, a muffled roar began to emerge. The Nine-Tailed Fox’s chakra ceased to be a mere flow of energy and transformed into a scorching, physical presence.

First, the crimson cloak grew denser, enveloping Naruto’s body like armor of boiling plasma. A chakra tail manifested, whipping violently behind him. Sasuke, his Sharingan fully mature, tried to anticipate Naruto’s next move, but Naruto’s speed had surpassed the processing capacity of the human eye. A burst of orange energy sent Sasuke reeling backward, forcing him to dig his claws into the water to regain his balance.

Then, the air began to distort with heat. A second chakra tail erupted from the cloak, lashing through the air with a sound like a whip breaking the sound barrier. Naruto’s eyes lost their humanity, turning red with slit pupils, while his fangs and nails lengthened.

However, the process didn’t stop there. Rage and the need to stop his friend fueled the imprisoned beast. With a scream that belonged not to a child, but to an ancient creature, a third chakra tail emerged from the base of his spine.

In this state, Naruto’s form became almost unrecognizable. The three-tailed cloak began to bubble, emitting a constant vapor that instantly evaporated the water around it. Naruto’s presence was now so massive that the entire valley seemed to vibrate in sync with his heartbeat. Sasuke, in his demonic form, watched with a mixture of horror and fascination as his rival transformed into a force of nature capable of leveling mountains.

The two warriors, now transformed into distorted versions of themselves, stared at each other through the haze of steam and electricity. The beginning of the end of their battle was about to occur.

The air in the Valley of the End grew heavy, saturated with an electrical tension and chakra pressure that made the waterfall’s water appear to flow upward. Sasuke Uchiha, in his Cursed Seal Level Two form, spread his deformed wings and began concentrating a dark, distorted variant of the Chidori The sound was no longer that of a thousand birds, but a funereal croak that tinged the lightning with a jet-black color.

Before him, Naruto Uzumaki, enveloped in the bubbling cloak of the three tails, roared. The crimson energy of the Kyubi violently condensed in his palm, forming a Rasengan that spun with erratic fury, tinged by the hatred and despair of the beast.

Both warriors launched themselves from the founders’ statues, crossing the chasm on an inevitable collision course. When their techniques clashed in the center of the valley, a sphere of absolute energy formed, devouring the surrounding light. For an instant, Sasuke’s Chidori, empowered by Orochimaru’s seal, seemed to gain ground, breaking through Naruto’s defense and threatening to consume the young Uzumaki’s arm.

However, just as the balance tipped in Sasuke’s favor, the strange black energy that had previously healed Naruto resurfaced. This time, it didn’t merely heal; it manifested as filaments of pure darkness that coiled around the Rasengan. Naruto’s technique underwent an instant mutation, expanding with a gravitational force that nullified Sasuke’s electricity.

The resulting impact generated an explosion of seismic magnitude. The force of the dark energy acted as a devastating multiplier, overwhelming Sasuke’s resistance and shattering his Cursed Seal transformation. The young Uchiha was flung backward by the shockwave, striking the water’s surface with a force that left him breathless.

Having exhausted every last drop of his will and served as a vessel for that unknown force, Naruto felt Kyubi’s cloak vanish. The dark energy retreated into him as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him utterly drained.

Silence returned to the valley, broken only by the constant roar of the waterfall. The bodies of both ninjas lay on the damp ground, close to one another, stripped of their transformations and their consciousness. The clash had ended without a victor able to rise, leaving the two legends of the future in a deep sleep under the impassive gaze of the stone statues.

… … … … With Kakashi … … … …

Beneath a sky dissolving into torrential rain, Kakashi Hatake ran through the dense forest with an urgency that made the air burn in his lungs. Beside him, Pakkun leaped among the roots with equal determination, following the trail of chakra that felt increasingly unstable and dark. For the Copy Ninja, each stride was not just a step toward the Valley of the End, but a painful journey through the scars of his own past.

His usually analytical and cold mind had become a whirlwind of self-reproach. Kakashi’s internal monologue resonated with the force of a verdict. He saw himself not as the hero of the Hidden Leaf Village, but as the man who had systematically failed to protect what he loved most.

"Again" Kakashi thought as his feet hit the mud ”I’m late again"

The memory of Obito Uchiha and the broken promise to protect Rin assailed him with cruel clarity. He had failed as a teammate in his youth, allowing darkness and tragedy to consume his original group. Now, history seemed to be repeating itself with terrifying symmetry. He had seen the signs in Sasuke”the hunger for power and the isolation”but he hadn’t been able to snatch him from Orochimaru’s clutches. He felt that his inability to guide the young Uchiha away from the path of vengeance was his latest failure as a mentor.

However, the heaviest burden on his chest was Naruto. To the world, Naruto was the Jinchuriki, the hyperactive orange-clad ninja; to Kakashi, he was something far deeper. He recalled his own childhood, when, after his father Sakumo Hatake’s suicide, he had been left alone in a cold world. It was Minato Namikaze and Kushina Uzumaki who took him in, providing him with a home and the warmth of a family he wasn’t related to by blood. Naruto wasn’t just their student; he was the living legacy of his teachers, the closest thing he had to a younger brother.

“I failed to help him overcome his limitations without him having to destroy his own body” he reproached himself internally” I allowed him to bear the burden of bringing Sasuke back alone, when I should have been his shield”

Kakashi gritted his teeth, increasing his speed to an almost unsustainable pace. The roar of the waterfall in the Valley of the End began to filter through the thunder of the storm. The smell of ozone and burnt chakra saturated the air. He knew the battle had reached its climax, and the fear of finding only ashes and corpses weighed heavily on his heart.

“Please,” he whispered to himself, a plea directed to the ghosts of Minato and Kushina, “let me arrive in time this time. Don’t let this valley become the tomb of their bond.”

Pakkun barked, indicating they were only a few meters from the cliff edge. Kakashi leaped onto the last row of trees, his heart pounding in his chest, dreading what his eyes were about to witness in the wake of the last explosion.

When Kakashi Hatake finally emerged from the dense forest and landed on the cold, stony ground at the edge of the Valley of the End, the world seemed to stop. Rain fell relentlessly, washing away the blood and traces of the battle that had fractured the earth. However, what his eyes beheld was not the desolation his mind had anticipated, but a scene that defied all logic and the very laws of life and death.

There, in the heart of the chaos, a figure shone with a faint light that pierced the gloom of the storm. It was a man with spiky blond hair, whose silhouette was unmistakable to Kakashi. He wore the white cloak with red flames along the edge, the ceremonial uniform of the Fourth Hokage. Minato Namikaze was there, materialized in the present like a silent guardian emerging from the past.

Minato wasn’t looking at his former student; all his attention was focused on the young boy he held close to his chest. With boundless tenderness, he carried Naruto in his arms, protecting him from the harsh weather and the rocky ground. The face of the legendary “Yellow Flash of Konoha” didn’t show the severity of a warrior, but rather the vulnerability of a father witnessing his son’s suffering.

While Kakashi remained paralyzed with astonishment, the sound of the wind brought with it Minato’s words, spoken in a whisper laden with an ancient and profound sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Naruto...” Minato murmured, bowing his head slightly as his fingers gently brushed the boy’s cheek. “Forgive me for leaving you alone with this burden. Forgive me for everything you’ve had to endure.”

The scene possessed a sacred stillness that contrasted sharply with the surrounding violence. Minato held his son with the fragility of one who fears that the very touch will shatter him, apologizing for an absence that the years had failed to erase. Kakashi, unable to utter a word, watched as his master’s figure enveloped Naruto in an eternal embrace, marking the end of a battle and the beginning of a mystery that time was not yet ready to unravel.

The silence that followed Minato’s words was profound, broken only by the hammering of the rain against the stone. Kakashi, his heart pounding and his throat dry, took a hesitant step forward. His eyes, including the Sharingan that normally processed the world with cold logic, refused to accept the sight before them.

“Master...?” Kakashi’s voice broke, barely a whisper fighting against the wind. “Minato-sensei?”

At the summons, the Fourth Hokage’s figure tensed. Minato Namikaze, the man remembered for his unfailing kindness and warm smile, turned to face his former student. However, there was no warmth in his expression. His blue eyes, usually as bright as the morning sky, were filled with a sharp, icy fury that stopped Kakashi in his tracks. It was the gaze of a father seeing the consequences of neglect and abandonment on his own son’s flesh.

“Is it really... is it really you?” Kakashi asked again, his voice trembling with disbelief and guilt. “How is it possible that you’re here?”

Minato held Naruto tightly to his chest with a protective grip, his white cloak flapping violently in a gust of wind. His voice, when he finally answered, resonated with an authority that seemed to emanate from the earth itself, devoid of its former gentleness.

“It’s me, Kakashi,” Minato declared, his gaze fixed on the silver-haired ninja. “I’ve returned because my son can no longer bear this burden alone.”

The air around Minato began to vibrate with an electric intensity. It wasn’t the Kyubi’s chakra, nor the dark energy that had healed Naruto minutes before; it was the pure and overwhelming presence of the Yellow Flash, manifested with irrevocable determination.

“I’ve come to take my son” Minato added with absolute purpose”He has suffered enough under the shadow of a village that failed to protect him”

The rain intensified, but it did nothing to quell the tension emanating from the Fourth Hokage’s figure. Kakashi, his face pale and his eyes fixed on the apparition, shook his head in a gesture of pure logical denial. Memories of the night of the Kyubi’s attack, the cold of the shroud, and the weight of the earth upon his master’s coffin returned to his mind with painful clarity.

“How is this possible?” Kakashi managed to say, his voice breaking with confusion. “I was there... I saw his lifeless body. I helped bury him myself, Master. You died protecting this village.”

Minato kept his icy gaze fixed on Kakashi, holding Naruto with a possessiveness that bordered on the divine. A small, bitter smile touched his lips, but there was no trace of the warmth Kakashi remembered.

“What you buried, Kakashi, was only a shell,” Minato replied, his voice seeming to resonate not just in the air, but in the very depths of the earth. “Minato Namikaze, the shinobi, died that day. His mortal form fulfilled its purpose and returned to dust. But my true essence, my authentic form, is something this world cannot comprehend or contain.”

He paused, and for a moment, the shadows around him seemed to come to life, dancing to the rhythm of his will.

“I come from a place older than the ninja nations,” he continued, with an ancient authority. “I have always longed to take Naruto with me, far from this cycle of hatred. However, I was bound by ancient and strict laws. My brother, in his arrogance and with his absurd rules, forbade any direct intervention in the lives of our children born on this mortal plane. He believes in order and distance, but I have seen enough.”

Thunder rumbled in the heavens, as if the sky itself were answering his words, but Minato showed no fear. On the contrary, his expression turned defiant, directed toward an invisible horizon.

“I no longer care about their laws or their judgment,” she declared firmly. “If I have to demonstrate to my foolish brother the fundamental difference between his apathy and my will, I will do so without hesitation. I will not allow my son to continue suffering because of Konoha’s negligence. This village treated him like a weapon or an outcast, while he bled for them. That garbage of feelings and loyalties will never touch him again.”

The weight of Minato’s words fell upon Kakashi with the force of a physical blow. Desperate at the imminent loss of Naruto, the silver-haired ninja fell to his knees on the liquid surface, lowering his head in a gesture of supplication rarely seen from a shinobi of his rank.

“Please, Master... don’t take him away like this,” Kakashi pleaded, his voice choked by the rain. “I understand we’ve failed, but let us make amends. Give us one more chance. I promise I’ll take care of him myself, that this time things will be different. Konoha can change.”

Minato was unmoved. His eyesThey squintedAnd an aura of ancient and heavy authority seemed to crush the air around Kakashi, making even breathing a difficult task.

“Another chance, Kakashi?” Minato asked, his tone a mixture of contempt and icy sadness. “They’ve had twelve years. Every day, every hour of those twelve years was an opportunity the village and its leaders squandered. I watched from the shadows as they avoided him, condemned him to a loneliness no child should ever know, while using his existence as political insurance.”

Minato took a step forward, and the shadow he cast seemed to lengthen unnaturally over the water in the valley.

“And you, Kakashi... you more than anyone” the blond continued, fixing his gaze on his former student”You wentMy brightest student, the son of a man who knew the weight of honor. I left you in charge of your safetyIndirectly, and I took you in when you had no one. But even when fate handed him to you as a student, when you became his Sensei and had the power to be the family he so desperately longed for, you chose distance. You chose your own ghosts over the living child who needed you”

Kakashi clenched his fists against the ground, unable to deny the accusation. The pain in Minato’s chest seemed to radiate outward, filling the valley with a bitterness that made the rain feel like icy needles.

“You were present in his life, but you were never there for him,” Minato declared with absolute certainty. “You failed to see his pain, or perhaps it was easier to ignore it. There are no more extensions, neither for you nor for Konoha. My patience ran out the moment you allowed this conflict to reach this point.”

Minato cradled Naruto in his arms, wrapping him in his cloak as if he wanted to hide him from the mortal world forever. The radiance surrounding them began to distort reality, making their figures appear ethereal.

“You have had twelve years of silence and negligence” Minato concluded. “Now, silence is all that will remain of him.

Kakashi looked up, his eyes clouded not only by the rain, but by a despair that threatened to break his will. In a final attempt to defend his honor and his decisions, he searched for words amidst the wreckage of his loyalty.

“I tried to balance everything, Master!” Kakashi exclaimed, his voice breaking. “Sasuke was on the brink of despair, consumed by Orochimaru’s mark and his thirst for revenge. I felt I had to honor Obito’s legacy by protecting the last of the Uchiha. I couldn’t allow another comrade to be lost in the darkness while I still had breath. Naruto… Naruto always seemed so strong, so full of light, that I believed he could hold on a little longer””

Minato was silent for a second, a silence so heavy that the roar of the waterfall seemed to fade away. Then, he let out a dry, humorless laugh that sent a shiver down Kakashi’s spine. Under his teacher’s gaze, Kakashi felt shrink, losing his elite Jonin status to become that scared and clumsy boy who had just received his genin headband.

“Obito’s legacy?” Minato asked, his voice cutting through the air like a razor blade. “You’re using the name of a dead man to justify abandoning a living one? Tell me, Kakashi, the Copy Ninja, the Man of a Thousand Jutsus... Have you forgotten the existence of...”Kage BunshinWas your intellect not enough to understand that you could dedicate at least one hour a day to my son? One hour to train him, to eat with him, to remind him that he was not a mistake of nature”

Minato took a step forward, and the pressure of his chakra forced Kakashi to lower his head into the mud.

“You chose the Uchiha,” Minato declared with a sharp bitterness. “Everyone in that village owes me a blood debt. Konoha breathes because I stopped breathing. And yet, not one of them was there for my son. Not even Jiraiya, who preferred his travels and his books to fulfilling his duty as godfather. They are a village of traitors who feed off the sacrifice of others.”

Minato’s face darkened, and for a moment, the image of the kindhearted hero vanished completely, revealing an ancient deity reclaiming what was his.

“What infuriates me the most,” Minato continued, pulling Naruto closer, “is that the only person who has shown true humanity is Tsunade. Someone who had no direct connection to me or Kushina, someone who has been in Naruto’s life for less than six months. She, in her grief and cynicism, did more for him simply by being there, giving him a purpose and recognition that you denied him for a decade. She is the only reason I haven’t reduced this valley to ashes with all of you inside.”

Kakashi did not respond. There was no possible defense against the stark truth of a father who had observed every act of contempt from the shadows of eternity.

“Keep your legacy of the dead, Kakashi,” Minato concluded, turning his back on him. “I’ll take the only living thing that matters to me.”

Just as Minato’s radiance began to envelop them, threatening to transport them from this plane, the Fourth Hokage raised a hand. With a gesture of supernatural grace, nine spheres of pure, vibrant energy materialized before him, suspended in the turbulent air. Each one radiated a distinct color and a unique chakra pressure, unmistakable to any experienced shinobi. One of these spheres, the largest and a deep reddish-orange, emerged from Naruto’s unconscious body, now floating freely alongside the others. They were the Nine Tailed Beasts, the Titans, manifested in their most elemental form.

Minato gazed at the spheres with an understanding that transcended time. His voice, now softer but still charged with authority, resonated in their minds, not in the air.

“You, who have been enslaved, sealed, and used as weapons of war for eons,” Minato said, addressing the chakra manifestations directly, “I offer you freedom. Come with me to a place where you can exist without chains, without the constant threat of being used as weapons. A place where you will be nothing more than yourselves.”

The Bijū spheres didn’t respond with words, but with a collective assent in their energy form. Each one spun on its own axis, emitting a pulse of approval before aligning in the air, signaling their acceptance of his offer. They remained suspended there, waiting, a clear sign that they were leaving this world.

Before the glare became unbearable, Minato cast one last glance toward the valley and Sasuke’s body, lying unconscious in the distance. A pang of complex emotion crossed his face, a mixture of pain and resolve.

“I made sure none of the Jinchūriki died,” Minato remarked, his voice now audible to Kakashi, though he seemed to be speaking more to himself. “My son already has enough reasons to hate me for what I’ve forced upon him. I don’t want to give him another one. I don’t want to bear the burden of the Sand Child’s murder, or the others’. Let those who remain in Konoha face the consequences of their negligence.”

With those last words, light completely enveloped Minato, Naruto, and the nine energy spheres. In a final blink, they vanished from the Valley of the End, taking with them not only a Jinchūriki, but the very beasts that were the pillar of the balance of power between the nations. The valley fell into a deathly silence, with the rain washing away the last traces of a battle that would change the fate of a world.

… … … … Gates of Konoha … … … …

The atmosphere at Konoha’s great gates was suffocatingly heavy. The rain that had lashed the Valley of the End reached here only as a persistent drizzle, a chill that seeped into the bones of those on guard. Tsunade, the Fifth Hokage, stood with her arms crossed, her expression an iron mask that barely concealed the storm of anxiety raging within her. Beside her, Shizune held Tonton with trembling hands, while Jiraiya, leaning against the wooden wall, stared at the unusually silent and somber path.

Sakura Haruno was a step ahead of them. Her hands were clasped so tightly that her knuckles had lost all color. Every time the wind rustled the leaves, her heart leaped. The image of Naruto’s back receding, carrying the promise to bring Sasuke back, replayed in her mind over and over. All she could do was pray, in an inaudible whisper that was lost in the damp air, that they would both return alive.

“They’re coming,” Jiraiya announced, his deep voice breaking the silence.

Figures began to emerge from the forest mist, but it wasn’t the image of victory some had hoped for. The members of the rescue team appeared one by one, living portraits of a brutal sacrifice.

Neji Hyūga was being carried on a makeshift stretcher, his body bandaged and his pulse barely perceptible after his fight against Kidōmaru. Chōji Akimichi arrived shortly after, in a critical state of malnutrition and organ failure due to the use of his clan’s three pills. Kiba Inuzuka, leaning on Akamaru, limped with deep wounds, while Shikamaru Nara, though physically less injured, walked with his gaze fixed on the ground, burdened by the weight of his failed first mission as leader.

Each time a new wounded member appeared, the panic in Sakura’s chest grew. She desperately searched among the trees for a blonde head of hair or an orange jacket, but the path remained empty after the latest casualties.

The murmur of the rain was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps that did not belong to the Leaf ninja. From the side of the path, Temari emerged from the foliage, carrying the body of her younger brother, Gaara, on her shoulders. The Sand Village girl’s expression was one of utter confusion, mixed with a terror she rarely displayed.

Upon reaching the group, Temari carefully placed Gaara on the ground, her hands trembling as she sought the gaze of Tsunade and Jiraiya. The young redhead was pale and his breathing erratic, but what was most unsettling was the absence of the dense, oppressive presence that always surrounded him.

“Something happened... something I can’t explain,” Temari said, her voice breaking with effort and confusion. “We were starting our return journey when, suddenly, Gaara stopped. He began to scream as if something were being ripped from the very depths of his being.”

Tsunade quickly approached, kneeling beside Gaara to check his vital signs, but Temari continued her story, pointing towards the horizon, in the direction of the Valley of the End.

“Then, a sphere of earthy-brown energy detached from his chest,” Temari continued, gesturing with her hands. “It wasn’t like normal chakra; it was something purer, more ancient. The sphere hovered in the air for an instant, and Gaara, in a terrifying moment of lucidity, opened his eyes and looked up at the sky. He whispered that it was gone… that there was nothing left. After that, he collapsed, and the sphere vanished with a speed my eyes couldn’t follow.”

Jiraiya exchanged a grim glance with Tsunade. The description of the sphere matched the essence of a Bijū exactly, but the fact that the container had survived such an extraction defied all medical and mystical knowledge of his world.

The silence that followed Temari’s words was thick and heavy with a sense of foreboding. Tsunade and Jiraiya remained motionless, processing the impossibility of a Jinchūriki surviving the loss of their Tailed Beast, when the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps drew everyone’s attention to the main path.

From the shadows of the trees, Kakashi Hatake finally emerged. He looked like a man who had not only fought a physical battle but had also witnessed the collapse of his own reality. He carried Sasuke Uchiha on his back, whose lifeless body hung with utter weight, but it wasn’t the physical burden that bent the elite ninja’s shoulders.

Kakashi didn’t carry with him the aura of relief that usually accompanies the end of a rescue mission. His gaze, fixed on some uncertain point on the ground, was an image of utter defeat and irreparable loss. His visible eye lacked the usual gleam of determination; instead, there was a shadow of emptiness that chilled the blood of those present. Upon reaching the gates, he stopped, but made no move to leave Sasuke or to salute his superiors.

Seeing her teacher in that state, Sakura felt like the world was crumbling beneath her feet. She took a hesitant step forward, desperately searching for something that wasn’t there.

“Kakashi-sensei...“the young ninja’s voice was barely a breath”And Naruto? Where is Naruto?”

Kakashi finally raised his head, and when he met Tsunade and Jiraiya’s eyes, they immediately understood that what had happened at the Valley of the End transcended any conventional military failure. The “Copy Ninja,” the man who always had an answer or a tactic, seemed to have lost even his voice.

“Naruto is gone,” Kakashi finally said. His tone was flat, devoid of emotion, as if he were reciting an inevitable sentence. “And he wasn’t captured. He was reclaimed.”

Tsunade stepped forward, her fists clenched and an expression of disbelief on her face.

“Claimed by whom, Kakashi?” the Hokage asked, her authority masking an inner tremor. “Speak!”

“Because of his father,” Kakashi replied, letting the name of Minato Namikaze hang in the damp air of Konoha like a truth impossible to ignore.

Tsunade’s jaw tightened with an iron rigidity as she processed Kakashi’s words. The emotional turmoil surrounding her failed to cloud her commanding instincts. With a dry, authoritative gesture, she indicated Sasuke Uchiha’s unconscious body.

“ANBU!” he ordered, and immediately three figures wearing porcelain masks emerged from the shadows. “Take Sasuke to the hospital, to the maximum security ward. Place chakra-restriction seals on every exit and maintain constant surveillance. If he awakens and attempts any hostile movement or another escape attempt, you have direct authorization to execute him. We will not tolerate any more betrayals under this roof.”

The agents vanished in the blink of an eye with the young Uchiha, leaving behind an icy silence. However, the Hokage’s composure shattered the instant her eyes met Kakashi’s again. In an impulsive movement charged with devastating force, Tsunade advanced and seized the elite ninja by the front of his uniform.shaking it with violence.

“Explain yourself right now, Kakashi!” he shouted, his face inches from his. “What do you mean, ‘his father’ took him?! That man died twelve years ago! Tell me what you saw in that valley before I lose what little patience I have left!”

Kakashi offered no resistance. He let his feet barely touch the ground while his hands hung limply at his sides. His eyes showed not fear, but a desolation that seemed to have aged his soul in a matter of minutes.

“It wasn’t a trick, nor one of Orochimaru’s genjutsu,” Kakashi began in a monotone voice that sent shivers down the spines of those present. “When I arrived at the Valley of the End, the air was saturated with an energy that didn’t belong to this world. There he was... my Sensei. He was dressed in his command robes, carrying Naruto in his arms as if he were the most precious treasure in the universe.”

Jiraiya stepped forward, his face pale, but Kakashi continued without looking at anyone, trapped in the memory of that icy gaze.

“Naruto’s father didn’t return as the hero we remember,” Kakashi continued, a lump forming in his throat. “He returned as a wounded and enraged parent. He looked at me with a contempt that made me feel insignificant. He said his mortal form was dead, but his true essence had never belonged to us. He stated that he could no longer tolerate his son suffering under the shadow of a village that treated him like a tool.”

Tsunade loosened her grip slightly, but didn’t let go. Her hands trembled as she listened to the description of the encounter.

“He said the rules of his world forbade him from intervening, but that he no longer cared,” Kakashi whispered. “He cursed Konoha for its negligence. He said we all owed him a debt, and that we had repaid it by abandoning his son. He even mentioned that the only person he didn’t destroy the valley with us inside was you, Lady Tsunade, because you were the only one who was truly there for Naruto these past months.”

Kakashi closed his eyes, letting a drop of rain or perhaps a tear run down his mask.

“Then, he simply vanished. He took Naruto and the essence of all the tailed beasts. He said he was taking his son home, to a place where the laws of men cannot reach him”

Tsunade gripped Kakashi’s uniform so tightly that the fabric began to tear under the pressure of her superhuman strength. Her eyes, fixed on his, desperately searched for a crack in the story, a logical explanation that could fit within the reality she knew.

“You’re lying!” she exclaimed, though her voice lacked its usual conviction. “No one comes back from the dead like that! Tell me it was an imposter, tell me it was a summoning technique or a soul-snatching trick by Orochimaru. How can he be alive and simply take the village’s Jinchūriki?!”

“I don’t know,” Kakashi replied, keeping his gaze lowered, accepting the Hokage’s rebuke without resistance. “I don’t have the answers you seek, Lady Tsunade. What I saw was neither a reanimated corpse nor a disguise. The pressure of its presence was... absolute. It was as if the world itself bowed before it. It offered no explanation of its nature, only judging us by our actions.”

A few steps away, Jiraiya stood motionless, like a stone statue battered by a storm. Kakashi’s words had opened a chasm in his mind. The Sannin, known for his audacity and wisdom, now felt like a stranger in the very history he believed he had written. His thoughts became a whirlwind of self-reproach and confusion.

“Is Minato alive?”Jiraiya wondered in the silence of his conscience“How could he have been watching all this time? If he was really there, why didn’t he ever look for me? Why didn’t he reveal himself to his master when Naruto was in danger before?”

A pang of pain pierced his chest as he recalled the words Naruto’s father had spoken to Kakashi in the story. Jiraiya lowered his gaze to his hands, the same hands that had written books and sealed contracts, but which had been unable to hold the son of his most beloved student during his childhood.

“Perhaps he did.”he thought bitterly.“Perhaps he sought me out, and what he saw disappointed him so much that he decided to remain in the shadows. He saw me ignore my duty as godfather to chase prophecies and spies, while his son ate cold ramen in an empty apartment.”

For the adults present, the Fourth Hokage was no longer the marble hero of monuments. Now, at the heart of the crisis, everyone referred to him simply as Naruto’s father; a parent who, after twelve years of silence, had returned not to lead a village, but to rescue his son from the negligence of those he once trusted.

Tsunade finally released Kakashi, taking a step back as her face revealed a vulnerability she rarely showed. The weight of the loss wasn’t just military, for the Jinchūriki; it was the moral shame of being rejected by the man who had sacrificed himself for them.

The murmur of the rain and the cries of the wounded were buried under an unbearable tension. Sakura, her face soaked and her eyes bloodshot from crying and frustration, stepped forward. Beside her, Temari supported Gaara, who remained in an unnatural lethargy. Both shared the same bewildered expression at the adults’ words.

“Enough with the riddles!” Sakura exclaimed, her voice trembling with anger and despair. “You’ve been talking about ‘him,’ ‘Naruto’s father,’ and blood debts this whole time. If that man has taken my friend, I want to know who he is. Who is Naruto’s father?”

Jiraiya, who until that moment seemed to have aged decades in just a few minutes, let out a sigh that sounded like the creaking of old wood. He stepped away from the wall and walked toward the center of the group, stopping before the young women. His gaze no longer sought the horizon, but instead sank into the past.

“You have a right to know,” Jiraiya began, his deep voice carrying the weight of history. “Naruto’s father was no ordinary man. He was the hero who gave his life so that all of us could be here today. His name was Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.”

The silence that followed the revelation was absolute. Sakura took a step back, covering her mouth with her hand, while Temari’s eyes widened in astonishment. The idea that the village outcast, the young man who always cried out for attention, was the son of the most respected shinobi in history, was a truth that shattered everything they thought they knew.

“But it wasn’t just his father’s legacy,” Jiraiya continued, softening his tone as a glimmer of nostalgia crossed his eyes. “Naruto is also the son of Kushina Uzumaki. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth. Her red hair was so vibrant it seemed forged in the flames of pure will. She wasn’t just an inhabitant of Konoha; she was the last princess of Uzushiogakure, the Village of the Whirlpool. A woman of an ancient and royal lineage that was destroyed by other nations’ fear of her immense power””

Jiraiya paused, looking at Sakura’s face, who seemed to be reconstructing the image of her friend through these new pieces.

“Minato was the Yellow Flash, the man who could cross battlefields in the blink of an eye to protect what he loved. And Kushina was the indomitable force of a clan that refused to die. Naruto was born from that union between fallen nobility and the greatest genius this village has ever seen”

Temari, looking at her still unconscious brother, finally understood why that mysterious man had said her son would suffer no more. Naruto Uzumaki was not a mistake or a tool; he was the prince of a story Konoha had chosen to forget so they could use him.

“Minato and Kushina loved him more than their own lives,” Jiraiya concluded, lowering his head bitterly. “But we, in our supposed wisdom, allowed that child to grow up in the squalor of an orphanage and the contempt of the streets. Now, the father has returned to reclaim what the world failed to value.”

Sakura felt reality crumbling beneath her feet. Jiraiya’s words echoed in her mind like funeral bells, imbuing every memory she had of Naruto with a cruel meaning. She pictured the boy who always wore bright orange, who played pranks to get attention, and who ate alone at the most secluded tables of the ramen stand. That boy, whom she herself had judged and often scorned in his childhood for not having parents, had turned out to be the heir to the greatest nobility Konoha had ever known.

The realization hit her with a physical force. Naruto wasn’t just any orphan; he was the son of the man who had saved them all and the princess of a vanished nation. Sakura understood that the village hadn’t just failed a child, but had betrayed his savior’s dying wish. The weight of her own indifference and the villagers’ scornful stares felt like a stain no amount of rain could wash away.

Beside him, Temari remained in a state of utter shock. In the Sand Village, lineage was everything, and the idea of ​​treating a Kage’s son as an outcast was a political and human blasphemy she couldn’t comprehend. She gazed down the empty path from which Naruto would never return, feeling for the first time a pang of respect mixed with a deep pity for the young man who had changed her brother’s heart.

Suddenly, a weak, dry sound broke the gravity of the moment. It wasn’t crying, but a gasping, breathless laugh.

“Naruto...” Gaara’s voice rose from the ground, hoarse and filled with extreme exhaustion.

Everyone looked down at the young redhead. Gaara had opened his eyes, and although they were sunken and tired, they showed a clarity they hadn’t possessed before. The bloodlust and the oppressive burden of Shukaku were gone; only the young man searching for his own path remained.

“He always has... surprises,” Gaara continued, flashing a pale, genuine smile unlike anything anyone in Konoha had ever seen before. “Even now, when the world thinks it has lost him, it turns out his origins are brighter than the sun.”

Gaara struggled to sit up, but Temari held him firmly. The young man from the Sand Village gazed up at the overcast sky, as if he could see beyond the clouds, toward the place where Naruto had been taken by that paternal and ancestral force.

“I’m glad he’s gone,” Gaara whispered, closing his eyes with an unusual peace. “In this world of shadows and tools, he was always too pure. I hope that, wherever he is now, in his father’s place, he’s finally happy. He deserves it more than any of us.”

Sakura sobbed openly at Gaara’s words, realizing that the bond Naruto had formed with the Sand Village boy was perhaps more genuine than the one she herself had offered him. The Valley of the End had not only been the scene of a battle, but the point where an unjust world lost its claim to a hero.

… … … … Unknown Location … … … …

Naruto opened his eyes slowly, but it wasn’t the sunlight that woke him, but rather a feeling of utter lightness. The mattress beneath him was so soft and inviting that, for a moment, he thought he was still dreaming and floating on a cloud. It was a comfort he’d never known; nothing like his rickety bed in his small apartment or the stiff, hygienic sheets in Konoha’s hospitals.

However, what truly ignited his ninja instincts wasn’t the gentleness, but the silence. A dense, absolute, and almost unreal silence. In the Hidden Leaf Village, silence didn’t exist; there was always the echo of footsteps in the corridors, the whisper of the wind between the buildings, or the constant bustle of urban life. Here, the calm was absolute.

She jumped up, her heart pounding, and her blue eyes began to scan every corner of the strange room.

In front of him, on the white wall, hung a large, dark, and shiny rectangle that reflected the light streaming in through an unseen window. It looked like an obsidian mirror, but it didn’t reflect a clear image. Below it, a floating shelf held a collection of strange boxes. Naruto squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

There was a tall, thin, pointed black box, another smaller one with a dim light, and a small device with two colored rectangles on the sides, one red and one blue.

“What is all this?” he whispered to himself, cautiously approaching. “Are these... weapons? Or some kind of seal?”

He saw some letters engraved on the objects and tried to read them aloud, although the words felt strange in his language.

“Ekis-Bokus...? Nintando Suichi?” he muttered with difficulty, frowning. “What strange names for storage scrolls.”

He looked up and noticed a long, white device near the ceiling emitting a soft, almost imperceptible hum. From it came a cool, constant breeze that kept the room at a perfect temperature, something that seemed to him a far more refined magic than any Wind Jutsu he had ever seen.

The room was spacious, with immaculate walls and a vibrant red carpet that contrasted with the light wood floor. To one side, a huge dark wood wardrobe rose almost to the ceiling, and an oval mirror in the corner reflected his own image: he looked healthy, without bandages, and more rested than he had ever been in his life.

Naruto got out of bed, feeling the soft carpet beneath his bare feet. There was no trace of the Valley of the End, no smell of blood or rain. He was in a place that seemed designed for peace, a place where danger felt like a distant, blurry memory.

“Where am I...?” he wondered, walking towards the mirror.

Naruto stopped in front of the oval mirror, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. The reflection staring back at him wasn’t that of the battered, exhausted child who had fallen in the Valley of the End; it was something entirely different, a version of himself that seemed to have been sculpted by the gods.

He found himself almost naked, wearing only black boxer shorts with a thin orange stripe that hugged his waist with astonishing ease. Looking down, he noticed his feet were farther from his face; he had grown considerably taller, leaving behind the short stature that used to be the subject of ridicule. His body, once marked by malnutrition and excessive exertion, now displayed a defined and athletic physique, in perfect physical condition.

What struck him most was her skin. The dark pinkish tone and the constant sunburns from training had vanished, replaced by a pure, almost luminous, white complexion that seemed to have never known the harshness of the shinobi world. As he brought his hands to his face, he noticed that her blond hair, once spiked up in unruly ends, now fell naturally, maintaining a tousled yet elegant style that framed her features.

However, the most dramatic change lay in the details of his face. The birthmarks on his cheeks, those six lines that had been with him since the day he was born, had completely vanished, leaving his complexion flawless. But when he gazed into his blue eyes, he noticed a glimpse of his true nature: his pupils were no longer circular, but stretched into a vertical, slashed line, like those of a noble predator or an ancient deity.

This set of changes gave him an appearance of both serene and dangerous beauty. Naruto turned slightly, observing how his new body reacted to every movement with an agility and grace he had never felt before. He saw himself, in his own eyes, as a young man of superior lineage, someone who no longer belonged to the mud and blood of the ninja nations, but to the upper echelons of this new and mysterious home.

“Is this... really me?” he murmured, touching the surface of the mirror with his fingertips, fascinated by the attractive and powerful young man who stared back at him.

As Naruto continued exploring the limits of his new reflection, a soft electronic beep drew his attention to the wooden shelf. One of the dark boxes, the one with an elegant shape and glossy finish, began emitting a flashing blue light from a front slit. Naruto approached cautiously, extending a finger with the same wariness one uses to examine an enemy trap.

Pressing the small button that glowed beneath his touch, the enormous rectangular screen on the wall instantly sprang to life. A crisp glow flooded the room, forcing Naruto to squint. When his vision adjusted, the image that appeared took his breath away.

Standing before him, in a scene more real than life itself, was his father. But this wasn’t the man in the Hokage cloak Kakashi had described in the valley; this Minato Namikaze wore an impeccable dark suit, with a white shirt and tie that gave him an air of modern, sophisticated authority. He even wore sunglasses perched on his blond hair, which looked identical to the one Naruto had just seen in the mirror.

“Hello, Naruto,” said the image of Minato, with a serene smile and a voice that conveyed unwavering peace. “If you’re seeing this, it’s because you’ve finally awakened. I know you have thousands of questions, but the first thing you should know is that you’re safe.”

Naruto took a step towards the screen, extending a hand as if he could touch the figure of his father.

“I am your father, but not the man Konoha’s history remembers,” the recording continued, or what appeared to be real-time communication. “We are not currently in the Elemental Nations, nor anywhere you know. We have left that world of wars and sacrifices behind.”

Minato gestured towards what appeared to be the window of his own office, where metal and glass structures could be seen touching the clouds.

“We are in another world, in a city called New York. It is a place where destiny is not written by the chakra, but by the will of those who dare to build the future”

Driven by a sudden curiosity, Naruto turned away from the screen and ran toward the large window he had previously ignored. As he drew back the curtains, the young man took a step back, stunned by the scale of what he saw. He wasn’t at ground level; he was at the top of an incredibly tall building.

Before him stretched a seemingly endless jungle of asphalt and steel. Thousands of lights twinkled in the distance, and other structures as tall as his own defied gravity beneath a clear sky. There were no forests, no hidden villages, no stone statues of the Hokage. It was a horizon of utter modernity, a new world unfolding before him with the muffled roar of a city that never slept. Naruto, the young man who had once been an outcast in a ninja village, now gazed at the sunrise from the heights of Manhattan.

Minato’s voice continued to flow through the speakers, laden with a solemnity that compelled Naruto to tear his gaze away from the imposing New York skyline and refocus on the screen. The man’s expression in the video softened, revealing a crack of human pain beneath the facade of the successful businessman.

“Before we go any further, Naruto, I need to tell you something I’ve carried with me for a long time,” Minato said, interlacing his fingers on the desk. “I apologize. I apologize for every day of hunger, for every scornful look, and for the loneliness you suffered in that village. If I had had the slightest suspicion that my sacrifice would result in your misery, I would never have sealed the Nine-Tails inside you.”

Minato paused, watching his son’s reaction through the lens.

“Currently, that burden no longer exists. The beast’s trace has been erased from your system; you are now free of that responsibility. However, as I mentioned before, there are ancient rules that limit how much I can directly intervene in your path. My brother watches my every move, but that doesn’t mean I will abandon you”

The man let out a long sigh, as if he were releasing the weight of centuries, and his gaze became determined.

“Listen carefully, because this is vital: Naruto Uzumaki died in that valley in the rain. That name, that past, and that pain no longer belong to you. It is time for your true life to begin. From this moment forward, before the world and before the laws of this place, your name is Nathaniel Underidge”

Naruto”now Nathaniel”heard the name with a strange sense of finality. It didn’t feel like a mask, but like new armor.

“You are the sole heir to Infernum Holdings,” Minato concluded. “It is an empire that your mother, Kushina, helped to build with her vision and strength, while I ensured that the resources to grow it were never lacking. Everything you see, from this building to the influence you now wield, is your birthright. Seize this opportunity, Nathaniel. The world is yours, and this time, no one can take it from you.”

The screen faded to black, leaving the young man in absolute silence, processing that the orange ninja boy had been left behind to make way for the heir to one of the most powerful corporations on Earth.

Nathaniel slumped onto the edge of the bed, feeling the mattress sink beneath his weight with an almost unreal softness. His hands, now large and with pristine skin, rested on the gray sheets as he tried to process the torrent of information. Everything he knew”the Valley of the End, the weight of the chakra, the villagers’ disdainful stares”felt like someone else’s life, a script from a play that had finally ended.

Just when the silence threatened to become overwhelming, the screen lit up again. This time, the image didn’t show her father’s analytical serenity. A woman of dazzling beauty appeared in the center of the frame. Her hair was a fiery red, falling in perfect waves that seemed to have a life of their own, and her violet eyes shone with an intensity that transcended technology. She wore a dark blue formal suit that highlighted her imposing and elegant presence, but her expression wasn’t that of a businesswoman, but rather that of a mother contemplating the greatest miracle of her existence.

“Hello, Nathan,” she said, and the use of his new name sounded like a caress in her voice. “Oh, my darling, my little Nathan... If you only knew how long I’ve waited to be able to tell you this.”

Nathaniel leaned forward, his heart pounding. This was the woman Jiraiya had spoken of with such reverence: Kushina, the Princess of the Whirlpools.

“I love you so much, my son. I adore you with every fiber of my being,” Kushina continued, her eyes welling with tears as she reached out toward the camera, as if trying to reach through the glass to touch her cheek. “There hasn’t been a single second that I haven’t thought of you. I wish I could be there, in that room, holding you so tight the whole world would disappear. I wish I could feel your heart beating against mine and never let you go again.”

The woman paused, pressing her lips together in a mixture of love and suppressed fury.

“But, like your father, I’m bound by circumstances beyond my control,” she explained, a trace of bitterness in her voice. “These absurd laws imposed by my brother-in-law keep us unbearably apart for now. It’s unfair, it’s cruel, but it’s the reality we must navigate to keep you safe in this new world.”

Kushina moved closer to the screen, her violet gaze fixed on her son’s with an unbreakable promise.

“Please be patient, Nathan. I know all of this is confusing and that you feel alone in this vast city, but I promise you this isn’t forever. Sooner rather than later, we’ll break these chains and I’ll be able to truly embrace you. Until then, always remember that you are loved beyond words. You are our pride, our heir, and my greatest treasure.”

Kushina’s image on the screen regained a seriousness tinged with warning, though her violet eyes still exuded a deep affection. She settled back in her seat, crossing her hands on the desk with natural elegance, and her tone of voice became more pragmatic.

“Listen carefully, Nathan,” Kushina continued, her gaze piercing. “Even though we’ve brought you from the ninja nations, don’t think for a second that life in this world will be easy. Here, battles aren’t always fought with kunai, but with influence, power, and secrets. However, don’t forget who you are. You’re my son, and that grants you advantages others can only dream of. You have our blood, and with it, a strength and cunning that will put you above anyone who tries to trample you.”

A small, mischievous, almost conspiratorial smile appeared on Kushina’s lips before she sighed with a gesture of resignation.

“But there’s something else I must warn you about,” she added, lowering her voice slightly as if sharing a family secret. “Your grandmother has also left a message for you. She is… persistent. She loves to meddle in matters of the heart and often enjoys manipulating our family’s love lives. It’s her favorite pastime, and she has no qualms about creating absolute chaos just for entertainment. Be very careful with her words and her gifts; with her, nothing is what it seems, and there’s always a hidden agenda behind her supposed help.”

Kushina made a face of exasperation, as if she remembered some past incident with her own mother.

“Don’t let her use you as a pawn in her games,” he declared. “Keep a cool head and a guarded heart until you learn to recognize her tricks. Be prepared, Nathan, because after this video, hers will follow. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The screen flickered once more before the image of the redheaded woman faded completely. Nathaniel sat on the edge of the bed, taking in that his new family was granting him not only a corporate empire but also a network of divinely complicated relatives. The silence in the room felt expectant, as if the next file was about to run, introducing him to the woman who, according to his mother, would view his love life as a game board.

The echo of Kushina’s warnings still lingered in the air as the screen automatically came back to life. This time, the image was radically different. Nathaniel found himself staring at a woman of almost unreal beauty, with long blonde hair cascading like golden threads over an elegant white dress. She posed with absolute confidence amidst marble columns and a rose garden that seemed straight out of a classical painting.

“Nathan, my dear! I can finally see you!” exclaimed the woman, her melodious voice seemingly carrying the scent of the surrounding flowers. “I am Dite, your grandmother. You cannot imagine how long I have waited to welcome you into our family. I love and adore you with all my heart, my little treasure.”

She approached the camera, narrowing her light eyes with a mischievous smile that vaguely resembled Kushina’s, although with a much more suggestive and carefree nuance.

“But before we go on, let’s establish a golden rule,” she said, making an elegant gesture with her hand. “Please, under no circumstances call me ‘Grandma.’ That word is so… old-fashioned. I’d prefer you call me Mommy, Mother, or Mama. Anything that doesn’t make me sound like I belong in a museum, okay?”

Dite let out a small laugh and gave a slight turn, showing the idyllic surroundings she was in.

“To help you navigate this new world, I’ve sent one of my most loyal maids to be your personal assistant. She’ll see to your every need in New York. However”“her tone turned momentarily serious”“don’t waste your time demanding information from her. She’s explicitly forbidden from revealing the ‘family secrets’ you’re not yet ready to know. It’s for your own good, my dear.”

Nathaniel watched as the woman regained her playful expression. She brought a hand to her lips, blowing a kiss toward the screen followed by a mischievous wink.

“And don’t listen to your mother’s fears. I promise you, on everything sacred, that I won’t interfere in your love life. I’ll let fate take its course... with a little nudge here and there,” she added in a barely audible whisper, before the screen went completely black, leaving Nathaniel in a silence heavy with uncertainty about what it truly meant to be part of this lineage.

Nathaniel stood motionless before the black screen, his mind buzzing with the succession of faces and revelations. The silence of the room, once cozy, now felt heavy with an invisible anticipation. Just as he was about to stand, a soft knock on the dark wooden door broke the stillness, followed by the metallic click of the lock turning.

“Master Nathaniel, I’m sorry to interrupt your thoughts” said a female voice, calm and professional.

A woman of imposing presence entered the room. She wore an exquisitely elegant black business suit, adorned with intricate gold embroidery, and her long, dark hair fell over her shoulders with clinical perfection. She wore thin-framed glasses and held a digital tablet that emitted a soft, bluish glow.

“My name is Lyra” she introduced herself, giving a slight bow of her head “I have been sent by your mother and your... grandmother, to serve as your personal assistant and right-hand woman in this new stage”

Nathaniel watched her cautiously, but Lyra continued before he could ask a question.

“There’s no need to try to hide anything from me,” she added, adjusting her glasses. “I know your past, the details of the Valley of the End, and the name you used to go by in the Elemental Nations. My loyalty now belongs to you, as long as it doesn’t directly conflict with the directives of your parents or Lady Dite.”

Lyra approached and handed him a fine leather folder. Opening it, Nathaniel saw high-quality legal documents: a passport, birth certificates, and property deeds, all bearing his new name and current photograph. Next to the papers, Lyra extended a hard case. Opening it, Nathaniel found a pair of stylish sunglasses, very similar to the ones his father wore in the video.

“He’ll probably have to use them often,” Lyra remarked with a hint of observation. “It seems he’s inherited the same ‘eye problem’ as his father. His pupils might attract too much attention on the streets of Manhattan.”

Nathaniel took the glasses and, unconsciously following the example of Minato’s image, placed them on his head, holding his blond hair in place. The gesture gave him an air of confidence he hadn’t known he possessed.

“I also have this for you,” Lyra continued, handing him an envelope with an official seal. “It’s your letter of admission to Yancy Academy. Your classes begin soon, and you are expected to uphold the standards of an heir to Infernum Holdings.”

Finally, Lyra walked to the enormous reddish-brown wardrobe and threw it wide open. Inside, rows of perfectly ironed shirts, dark jackets, and impeccably tailored trousers awaited him. There was no trace of the rough fabrics or garish colors of his old life; everything there screamed sophistication and power.

“This is your new wardrobe, Mr. Underidge,” Lyra concluded, giving him space. “I suggest you get dressed. New York waits for no one, and there is much you should see before nightfall.”

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Statement Regarding the Remake of “The Prince of the Underworld”

Due to the start of the “The Prince of the Underworld: Remake” project, I have decided to remove the previous story. Below, I share the reasons behind this decision and the guidelines for the future of this work.

Reasons for the Cancellation of “Naruto: Father of Asia”

I decided to remove this story primarily because I lost interest and the desire to continue with that specific narrative. Additionally, the negative comments accusing me of “plagiarism” influenced my decision.

I want to clarify that, for those who read the end of the first chapter, it was always specified that the story was a reimagining of a previous work. Specific credits were not given simply because I did not know the identity of the original author, but my intention was never to appropriate someone else’s idea, but rather to pay tribute through my own version.

I apologize for any grammatical errors you may find in my writing. English is not my native language. My goal in translating my stories is to allow a wider audience to enjoy them, and I appreciate your understanding regarding my linguistic limitations.

Unlike the original story, this remake will not be a harem. I’m looking for a more serious approach focused on a single couple. Therefore, I request your suggestions for female characters, under the following strict restrictions:

Excluded characters: Annabeth Chase, Bianca Di Angelo, Phoebe (Hunter of Artemis).

Excluded goddesses: Hestia, Athena, Artemis, Hera, Persephone, and Demeter.

No original characters (OCs): I will not create my own female characters for the romantic interest.

No character crossovers: No one from the Naruto universe, nor from other anime, comics, or movies, will be included. The couple must belong exclusively to the universe of the books.

I appreciate your support in this new stage and look forward to your proposals to define the direction of this story. And yes, I did this last part with AI, so I wouldn’t vent so aggressively. That’s all for now. Sayonara.