Author's Note's: The amount of attention this story is getting is crazy! Keep it up!

I got another decent sized one for you all, again. Getting inspiration for this fic is so easy, and I absolutely love writing it. I can't wait for what comes next, and I wonder if any of you can figure out how I'm going to do it. If you can guess correctly where this story is going, I'll tell you if you are right or not.

This concept is actually stolen from another story I was going to write, which would have been a Naruto x Dragon Age (BioWare Video Game) crossover. In that story, the child of Andraste and the Maker, who was named Merlin, was given to humanity, and was born with the Rinnegan, which is the ultimate magic, so that he could save them. A somewhat different take, but the concept was similar, if a little more on the religious side, him being the literal son of God, and all. If any of you think that's a good story to go with, let me know, and I might keep writing it. I have like an entire chapter written for it already, and it's been sitting in my computer for months.

For those of you who don't know, me and a friend, Dreaming of the Phoenix, have created an author's team titled Dreamers. We have our community up on the site, called Dreamers Community, and we would appreciate it if you went and checked it out, maybe even follow? The roster for the team is on my profile, and I think most of you have heard of most of us. Please, check it out.

Thanks to my amazingly awesome beta, Dreaming of the Phoenix. Without this guy, I wouldn't look as good as I do. ;)


The Last Son

Chapter Three – The Drums of War


"Your Grace, please, calm down!" The Hand of the King, otherwise known as Jon Arryn, spoke, trying, and not succeeding, to calm the King of Westeros.

"Calm down!?" Robert suddenly shouted, his mighty, deep voice filling the halls of the Red Keep. "Calm down!?" He repeated again. "My wife and both my sons were almost assassinated by those bloody traitorous bastard shits!" Robert was furious ever since he heard the news. The damned Greyjoy? Really? What in the name of the gods was their reasoning for starting a rebellion? "You're lucky I don't march my entire army for the Iron Islands right now and kill every man, woman and child with my bare hands!"

"And what good would that do, Robert?" Jon asked. He was just as furious with what had transpired early that morning, but he was the Hand of the King. He had to be the King's reason, and think clearly when the King wasn't able to. This was one of those moments. "Something happened in that garden, Robert! Something… that we must discuss." As Jon spoke, he rubbed his hands, trying to understand what he was told.

"You mean with the rumors about Marcus?" Robert asked. Whenever Jon was nervous, Robert knew something was up. "Those are just rumors, Jon. My son's only nine years old. You really expect me to believe that he singlehandedly slaughtered forty trained men?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I think I would know if my son could do such a thing! He hasn't even been trained with a sword yet."

Jon sighed, shaking his head. "Yes he has, Robert." He began. The King stopped, turning to the man who raised him.

"What?" the King asked in a deathly silent voice, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I just learned it myself, Robert." Jon continued, placing a hand on Robert's shoulder. "Apparently, Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy have been training him for quite a while. They say he's skilled with the sword, a prodigy."

Robert was silent for a moment, the two men still standing in place. Jon was worried for a moment. Silence, with someone like Robert, was never a good thing. Quite terrifying, actually. It meant that he was thinking, and when Robert began to think… well, it tended to end with the genocide of an entire people. The Targaryens knew that first hand. Without preamble, the two began to walk again, still silent.

After a few minutes of awkward and uncomfortable silence, Robert started. "I need to see him." He turned to Jon, the two finally arriving at their destination. "I need to see my son." The boy was the only thing he had to remember Lyanna by. She was his world, and she was gone… but Marcus was there, and now his safety was threatened.

Jon nodded, gesturing to the door that both Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy were guarding, their hands on the hilts of their swords. Robert was not an uneducated person, Jon saw to that personally, so when he saw the eyes of the two most skilled Kingsguard, he knew, deep down, he was not the King they followed. The feeling was strange, because it didn't enrage him, or even slightly irk him. His son… he was a natural born leader…

Without even saying a word to the men, Robert passed, Jon actually surprised that he didn't give the two hell for putting a sword in his son's hand. Entering, Robert and Jon were met with a peculiar gathering. Cersei Lannister sat in a chair at the end of the bed, her hands crossed on her lap, an absolutely pale, almost sickly expression adorning her beautiful face. She looked like she had seen one of the Others. Directly to the side of the bed, the High Septon stood; his face grim. On the other side of the bed, Grand Maester Pycelle stood, his hands crossed behind his back. On the other side of the room, looking even sicklier than Cersei, the Hound sat in a chair, turned the other way, staring at a wall.

Robert passed them all, heading straight for the bed, the bed his firstborn son, Marcus, lay unconscious.

"Explain." Robert demanded to no one in particular.

"Marcus happened…" Cersei whispered, her voice shaky.

"What do you mean by that, woman?" Robert asked. "Tell me now! What happened to my son!?"

Pycelle cleared his throat, raising his hands. "If I may, Your Grace?" he asked. When Robert was silent, the older man began. "The young prince seems to be in a deep sleep brought on from extreme exhaustion. Whatever transpired in the gardens almost killed him." In truth, the Grand Maester hadn't a clue what happened to Marcus, only that he was in some kind of deep dream state. He wouldn't say that to the King, though.

"And what in the Seven Hell's happened in the garden?" Robert demanded.

"Marcus… he…" Cersei began. "He killed them all…" She whispered. Her voice was still shaky and her hands were visibly shaking.

"How?" Robert asked. "How does a child of nine years kill forty trained and armed men?"

"He… I don't…" the Queen shook her head, confused.

"If I may, Your Grace?" The High Septon inquired. Robert stared at the "Holy Man", before nodding to continue. "Your son seems to be tapping into the power he was prophesized to wield."

Robert sighed/growled, raising his hand to massage his temples. "You're still going on about that damn prophecy?" He asked in irritation.

"My apologies, Your Grace, but this incident has proven that we speak the truth. Young Marcus is maturing at a rate we did not think possible." Jon was silent as he went over everything Barristan had told him. "The accursed eyes… he has them, does he not?" When the High Septon spoke those words, Jon almost fainted.

"Say that again…" Jon whispered. Everyone, including the High Septon, turned to the aged man.

"I asked if he has awoken the accursed eyes." He repeated.

At this, Jon took a deep breath, finding the nearest chair. Sitting, he rubbed the back of his neck. "These… accursed eyes… what do you know about them?" Lord Arryn asked.

The High Septon raised an eyebrow, curious. "Ah…" he began. "So he has, hasn't he?"

"Just answer the question, damn it!" Jon shouted, surprising everyone. The man was always calm, always collected. To see him in such a nervous state… it was unnerving.

The High Septon just nodded, staying calm. "The accursed eyes, the eyes that bleed, the eyes that see all, the eyes that kill, the eyes that are cursed… these are the eyes the Last Son will see the world through. This was a piece of the prophecy that was left out when I first gave it to you…"

Robert snarled. "You would dare keep something from me? Your King?" He walked over to the man and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "I should chop that ugly head of yours off of your shoulders." He threatened.

"And these are the eyes that he will either save the world with, or destroy it…" the High Septon finished. "I kept that from you because I did not want to frighten you…" Robert let go of the holy man, a faraway look in his eyes. "Marcus will save us, I know it!"

"Then why did you feel the need to keep that from us!?" Cersei asked, incredulously.

"Because people fear what they can't understand. And I didn't want all of you to fear him… he's just a child."

"We should fear him…" everyone turned to the Hound, who had been silent until then.

"What was that, dog?" Robert spat.

"… I said, we should fear him…" Sandor repeated. "I… I saw that boy burn a man… with flames blacker than my armor… He conjured them from thin air… he's…" he turned to the people in the room, fear plaguing his eyes. "We should fear him…" he then turned back to stare at the wall, slightly unnerving them all. The Hound was a tough bastard, and the fact that he looked like he'd rather die than even glance at Marcus only emphasized just how strange the boy was.

"So he burned them, then?" Robert asked. "He set them all aflame?"

"I wish that's all he had done…" Cersei whispered. In truth, she wasn't sure why she lied for the boy, but when she thought about Marcus dying, she knew that Robert would have thought her guilty of something… anything. Her children were more important than her disdain for a single boy, so she lied… she saved him… but right now…

She wasn't sure if she did the right thing, because whatever was carried out of that garden, it wasn't Marcus… it wasn't human…

"Then what!?" Robert shouted, having enough of it all. "What did my son do? If someone doesn't tell me right now, I swear I will behead you all!"

It was at that time that the door opened, and everyone turned to see Jaime Lannister and Barristan Selmy enter through the door. The king could see two more white cloaks outside the door, obviously talking over for the two.

"He summoned a giant demon, Your Grace." Jaime said bluntly, in a stoic voice.

"What was that, Kingslayer?" Robert asked.

"I said," Jaime looked the king in the eyes, "Marcus summoned some kind of ethereal warrior to fight on his behalf." He turned to Barristan. "That's how you'd describe that thing, right, Lord Commander?"

Barristan sighed as all eyes went to him. "Your Grace…" the greatest swordsman to walk the earth began in a weary voice. "I know not what the creature was…" he then nodded at Jaime, "But your brother-in-law speaks the truth. Marcus… he brought something into that garden… and it wasn't human, that I am sure."

Robert may have fought against Ser Selmy during his rebellion, but there wasn't a man with greater honor – except for Eddard Stark – in all the realm. He knew that the man wouldn't lie, not when it concerned Marcus. So he was silent once more, his mind whirling about with what this meant. His son… he had slain forty men… and he summoned a demon to do it… He wasn't sure what was going on, or why, but what he did know was that his son was no longer an ordinary person. These mighty powers that people spoke of… they made him seem as if he were a god, or at the very least blessed by them…

"Your Grace…" Jon began, but Robert interrupted him.

"These accursed eyes… what exactly are they?" He asked the High Septon. The man looked with what seemed like pity at his King.

"They are a harsh burden that your son may not be able to overcome…" The aged man spoke with a conflicting voice. "Not even I know what they can do, but one thing is for sure…" he looked to the unconscious boy. "They can be truly devastating if he wishes them to be."

Again, Robert was silent, just staring at his son for a moment, before he snarled. "Jon…" he clenched his hands into fists. "Let it be known... I've officially declared war on Balon Greyjoy and all of the Iron Islands." Jon sighed, closing his eyes. It was never a happy thing to ever assemble the armies and prepare for war. Ever. "Those bastards want a rebellion? I'll give them their bloody rebellion." He turned, heading for the door. "And I'll crush them just as I crushed the Targaryens." With that, he left the room, Jon right behind him.

As they left, Jaime and Barristan shared a look between them. They both knew what lay on the horizon. It was soon going to be all out war, and as the greatest knights in Westeros, Jaime and Barristan would most definitely have major roles in the battles to come. They both then turned to Marcus, to their King, and both gave a small, unseen bow of their heads.

Neither of them noticed it, but Cersei saw them, her sickly face becoming even more so when her eyes narrowed.

Things were only going to get worse before they got better.

Marcus groaned as Jaime and Barristan left the room, Cersei, the High Septon, and the Hound staying, unsure of what to do, or where to go. Even unconscious, being near Marcus felt the safest place in the Seven Kingdoms.


"It's getting late…" he said to himself as he ran down the dark, desolate street. The moon was full, and lit his way, the stars sitting lazily in the dark sky. He was late, and he hoped his parents wouldn't be too upset.

Suddenly, he felt… scared, like someone was watching him. He froze, looking up to a nearby street post. Standing there, he looked confused. 'What was that?' he thought. 'I thought I sensed someone there just now…' He looked wary, but then his expression turned frightened. He noticed it…

'The lights…' he thought to himself. 'It isn't even close to bedtime yet…' It was much too dark for the hour it was, and he knew… there was something off.

He began to run again, turning a corner, only to be met with what looked like a battlefield.

Kunai were everywhere, on the ground, in the walls… and blood… there was blood staining the ground…

"W-what is this?" he asked out loud, his heart pounding, his eyes widened. He began to run some more, dashing through the kunai littered street. 'What the hell is this!?' After running some more, he turned another corner, and when he stopped, he froze once again. "Uncle… Auntie…" sure enough, the cold, unmoving bodies of the older man and woman of is clan that he had spoken to just that morning were there, so very still…

His eyes were wide, unable to fully process what was happening… He then inhaled deeply.

"Father… Mother…" His little feet began to run. He ran and ran, not stopping until he arrived at the house he was raised in. He hurriedly slid the door open, shocked to see just how dark and quiet it was. There were no shoes sitting where there should have been…

He took a single step into the house. "Father? Mother?" he asked before taking another single step into the house. He slid his shoes off out of habit, placing his yellow over the shoulder school bag down as well. He gulped, and began to silently search the house for his parents. Room by room, he peaked his head in, hoping against hope that they'd be sitting there, waiting for him like always. With each empty room, he grew more and more nervous; his heart pounding so hard that he could practically hear it outside.

A small thump caught his attention, and he gasped. Running through his home, he made it to the outside walkway that led to his parents' room. He ran as fast as his little legs could take him, almost tripping over his own feet.

The moment he made it to the door, he slowly put his hand to the door, but froze before he could even touch it, fear and anxiety rushing through him. Sweat ran down his face as he began to think. 'There's someone in there…' His legs shook and he couldn't breathe.

'Move!' he shouted at himself within his mind. His body still shook with fear and he had to close his eyes, for what reason he had no idea.

'Move!' he stated again, his teeth firmly clenched together.

'Move!' he took a single, shaky step forward, placing a shaky hand on the door. Another shaky hand rose, and he managed to finally open the door that he knew he shouldn't have.

He rushed through with reckless abandon, eyes wide and heart pounding. "Father! Mother!" he shouted.

And then he froze, not even five steps into the room, shock marring his face. There, washed over by moonlight, his parents laid, unmoving, and blood… everywhere…

He could see legs beginning to walk out of the shadows, scaring him. He began to take steps backwards, until his back was pressed against a wall. The figure was now out of the shadows enough that he could see who it was.

The crimson eyes that caught his were colder than he was used to.

"Big Brother!" he shouted. "Father and Mother are…!" He shook his head, his eyes closed again. "Why? For what reason!?" His hands were still shaking, this time equal amounts of rage, fear, and sorrow the reason. "Who the hell would do something like this!?"

Suddenly, something sharp and cold flew past him, digging into the wall to his side. For a second, he was confused, not knowing what happened, until he felt the flesh of his shoulder slash open, his shirt tearing. It was a shuriken… thrown at him…

He grabbed his shoulder, still confused. "Big Brother… what are…?" He didn't know what was happening, or why.

Those crimson eyes just stared at him with a blank, stoic expression, watching him.

"What are you doing, nii-san!?" he asked, still holding his shoulder.

Silence…

And then…

"You pathetic younger brother…"

He felt struck by the words his brother said, unsure why he was being so cruel. This wasn't his aniki! His nii-san was always nice and gentle with him…

His brother closed his eyes, and when they opened, he felt terror the likes of which he didn't know existed. For when those crimson eyes opened, they were not the normal, three commas in each eye like usual, but three black spiraling curves around a pupil.

And that's when everything turned red.

He saw it all, in terrible detail… Everyone was dying, being slaughtered, cut down in the streets like they were animals, less than human. Shuriken flew, stabbing into flesh alongside kunai that sliced through tender skin. Blood splashed, covering everything in crimson. He was showing him… his precious big brother was showing him how he slaughtered their people…

He grabbed his head in pain, begging for it to stop. "Stop! Nii-san!" It was so painful to watch. "Don't make me see this kind of thing!" He wept. He wept for the people who died like animals, and for the person who was doing it. "Why?" he asked in a shaky voice. "Nii-san… why did you…" And then he was shown his own death, and then he screamed, clenching his head in horrible pain.

Then, he was once again in the room, falling down to his knees in defeat and agony. His head burned and his legs were numb. He then fell fully to the ground, panting, with drool leaking out of his mouth.

"Why… nii-san… why did you…" his voice was soft and devoid of emotion, still out of breath.

"In order to measure my vessel..." His brother replied in a cold, sharp tone.

"To measure your vessel?" he asked, feeling anger well up in his stomach. "Is that all?" He clenched his hands into fists. "Only for that reason… you killed everybody…?" His voice sounded so defeated.

"That is what is important." His brother replied.

He slowly rose to his feet, shaking. "What the hell is that?" His anger suddenly exploded, and he rushed his brother, a snarl on his face. "You gotta be kidding!" he screamed.

His charge was met with a fist to the gut, and he felt all of his breath leaving his lungs, spit falling out of his mouth. He fell to the ground, clenching his stomach.

He slowly raised his head to look at his brother, and the tears began to fall from his eyes. Then, his brother took a step forward, and he froze.

'I'm scared…' he thought to himself. He got to his feet, positioned to run out of the door behind him. 'I'm scared!' He took off towards the door, screaming, running out of the room, away from his beloved brother.

His shoes were on once again, and he was running down the abandoned streets once more, as fast as he could, crying the whole time. He was so scared, so terrified. His eyes were wide and his heart beat so fast.

"Don't kill me…!" he screamed as the tears flowed down his cheeks. He stopped, his heart feeling like it did the same, when his brother suddenly walked out in front of him. The grey armor and black clothing looked so ominous in the moonlight.

He stared at the person he looked up to so much, trying to breathe. "I don't believe it! This is too unlike you, nii-san! I mean…"

"The reason I acted the big brother you desired was," the older of the brothers began, "I wanted to measure your vessel. You have the potential to become my opponent in order for me to measure my vessel." He made no sense… "You hated me… and you continued to have the desire to surpass me. That's exactly why I will allow you to live… for my own benefit." His voice was so cool, so calm that it scared him even more. "You are someone who could be able to use the Mangekyo Sharingan, just like me." The wind seemed to pick up, taking the leaves with it to ride on its currents. "However, on one condition…"

He stared at his big brother, not sure who the man was anymore…

"You have to kill your closest friend."

"Y-you've got to be kidding me…" he stuttered, shocked. How could this person think he would or could do such a terrible thing?

That's when he said it…

"Just like I did…"

Memories of when the others came to ask questions about their cousin flashed through his mind…

"That was… your doing?" He asked. "Nii-san… you killed Shisui?"

"That's right… and because of that, I obtained these eyes." His brother began to speak about something, but that wasn't important to him at the moment. "If you attain these eyes…" he started to pay more attention. "You will be the third person, including myself to have attained the Mangekyo Sharingan." He smiled. "If that happens…" he began to chuckle. "Then there will have been meaning in my allowing you to live." He gulped. "However… at present…" he turned, frightening him. "You are not worth killing, my pathetic, younger brother." He closed his eyes. "If you want to kill me, then begrudge me. Hate me. And live in an ugly manner. Run away… run away… and cling to life… And one day, when you have the same eyes as I do…" His eyes opened, revealing those different eyes… the Mangekyo Sharingan.

"Come and stand before me!" Uchiha Itachi spoke… his brother.

For him… for Uchiha Sasuke… everything went black.


His eyes opened, slowly blinking. He was… standing… in a field. His eyes gazed up, and immediately widened.

The moon.

He noticed just how big the moon was, almost filling the entire sky. And the color of the moon… it was red, the color of his eyes…

"You're a bit early, aren't you?" A voice spoke out to him from behind. It was such a familiar voice… He turned, and was met with an incredibly familiar yet foreign face. "Hmm… still just a child…" he narrowed his eyes. That voice… it was…

Marcus Baratheon pointed an accusing finger at the black-haired man before him, snarling. "You!" he shouted. "You were the one whispering to me, in the garden!"

The man just smirked, nodding. "You have a talent to state the obvious, do you?"

Marcus glared at him for a moment, taking in his appearance. The man wore a black cloak, the same color as his eyes, and black pants underneath. Black sandals adorned his feet, and Marcus could make out a thin sword sheathed on his hip. His black hair fell over his left eye, and he had an aloof, cool aura about him.

After just staring, Marcus's eyes widened. "You… you were me… or him…" he shook his head, slightly confused. "You're Sasuke Uchiha…" he whispered, shocked.

Sasuke smirked. "So you noticed." He replied.

"But… how?" Marcus asked. "Why am I dreaming about you, as if I am you?" It was the strangest feeling. Marcus looked at Sasuke, who looked nothing like him – except for the dark hair and pale skin. Yet… he felt as if he was looking into a mirror, as if the man before him… as if Sasuke Uchiha was Marcus Baratheon, and Marcus Baratheon was Sasuke Uchiha…

Sasuke just raised his left hand, his palm raised to the younger boy. When Marcus saw what was on the palm of the raven-haired man, he froze. "You and I share more than memories, Marcus." Marcus looked at his own left palm nervously. "And we have much to talk about before you leave this place."

Marcus narrowed his eyes, confused. "W-what do you mean?" He gestured all around him. "Where are we?"

Sasuke sighed. "So you haven't seen it yet, then?" Marcus had never seen this place before. Ever.

Right…?

"We can get to that later." Sasuke began. "But right now, you need to understand what you are, and what's happening to you. I would have preferred you to be older, but things never seem to go according to plan…"

Marcus just looked at the man with confused eyes, not understanding what he was saying at all.

Sasuke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay… let's start at the beginning."

And so the Uchiha began his impromptu history lesson, literally starting at the beginning, with the Sage of the Six Paths himself.

It was going to be a long conversation. But here, in this world, time wasn't an issue. They had all the time they needed, and the boy would know this place before he left.


It had been two days since Marcus had slaughtered the Greyjoy men in the garden, and he still hadn't awoken from his deep slumber. The King had allowed the Silent Sisters to attend to Marcus. The order had become faithful followers of Marcus, their prophesized one. The prophecy had said that the King of Kings would defy the laws of The Seven, but somehow, the Faith began to whisper tales that the Child of Prophecy was the chosen one, sent from The Seven. How that worked out to be, no one knew. It seemed religion had a way of either totally synchronizing with something, or completely ostracizing it, and in the case of Marcus Baratheon, it was the former. The boy had the High Septon at his feet, the Most Devout kissing the ground he walked on, and the Silent Sisters attending to him like he was their god. If Marcus was anyone but the son of the King, he would be the most dangerous man – or child, in this case – in Westeros. Sure, the Faith Militant had been disbanded, and no holy man was to ever bear arms again, but even then, Marcus could possibly sway them into recreating it. If whispers of the Warrior's Sons and the Poor Fellows were back, no one would be surprised. And the fact that the Faith of the Seven was dominant throughout Westeros, if the Faith Militant were to return, he'd have an army larger than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. It was truly a frightening thought.

Jaime Lannister sighed as he entered the room his King was sleeping in, Cersei Lannister, the Queen, still at the foot of the bed, her arms still folded over her lap, her elegant poise never slipping, even when there was none to see it. Her eyes showed her weariness, and the untouched food at her side spoke of her stress level. The Queen could never eat when she was stressed, or scared. Jaime reckoned it was a mixture of both.

Ever since that day in the gardens, Cersei hadn't left the boy's side and Jaime didn't know why. She hated Marcus, despised his very existence, so why she suddenly took an interest in his health confused not only Jaime, but mostly everyone who knew of her dislike for the King's first son, which, frankly, was everyone. She only left the room when she absolutely needed to. Otherwise, she was always there, next to him, watching him, observing him and those who were around him. It started to worry her twin brother.

"Why don't you go and get some sleep in your bed, Cersei. You've been here too long." Jaime started gently, placing his hand on her shoulder.

The Queen shook her head, but otherwise didn't take her eyes off of Marcus. "No, I'm fine." She said bluntly. He could hear it in her voice, though. She certainly was not fine.

Jaime looked to Marcus for a moment, before dragging his gaze back to his sister. "Cersei… what's going on with you?" He asked. It was time to be straightforward. "You've hated the boy since you've known him, and now you sit here like a terrified mother watching her child, worried for his safety." He just didn't understand. Cersei wasn't one to change her opinion of someone so quickly, not even after what they had seen in those gardens. The only children Cersei loved were her own. Joffrey and Myrcella were the only ones she'd ever be so vigilant about, so the fact that she was doing so with Marcus was as unexpected as it was strange. His sister was stubborn, annoyingly so, and she was not one to shed tears or worry about anyone but her own blood.

"I protected him, you know…" she finally whispered. Her voice was soft, but Jaime could hear it nonetheless. "They had him… those men in the garden… they would have killed him if I told them the truth… it would have been so easy, too. But I didn't… I lied to protect him… I risked the life of my own son for that bastard…" she said the last word with anger and disgust, all but spitting it out of her mouth like sour milk. "And then he…" Jaime could see his sister shiver, and he already knew what she was thinking about. "He did those things…" she finally looked at her twin… at her lover… "How did he do those things, Jaime?" Her hands were shaking and her eyes held fear within them. She had seen magic before, or at least claims of magic. Never before had she ever seen anything like what Marcus showed them. That evil smile the demon wore still haunted her dreams… she couldn't sleep without being terrified.

Jaime couldn't blame her, though. He had been in such shock and awe at the time that the fear was gone, vanished. But it came back whenever he remembered it… those blood red eyes that he'd never seen before, with loops in a starburst pattern… or the haunting eyes of the warrior he summoned… as yellow as the sun, the demon's smile so malevolent that it could strike fear into any mere man…

Yes… Jaime Lannister knew full well just how terrifying Marcus Baratheon was… but… there was more than just that side to the child.

"I don't know, Cersei…" he started. "He's never talked about anything like that before." He had only seen eyes with three commas spinning in each before, and even those were amazing. To be able to mimic any man's movement at will, and to enhance ones reflexes and response time was truly an amazing gift, one that could change the world if more than just one child possessed it. The things his King could do were otherworldly, and they interested him as much as they frightened him.

The Queen turned back to Marcus, her eyes now narrowed. "It's true… what they say about him… isn't it?" She asked. She didn't need an answer. "We seem to follow him without even knowing it…" She chose to defend the King of Kings over her firstborn, over the "rightful" heir to the throne. She didn't want to, but something… made her do the right thing… "What is he?" she asked in a scared, breathless voice.

Jaime was silent, he himself having asked that same question a few times.

The door opened and a Silent Sister walked in, a wet rag in her hands and a bucket of water. She had come to wash the prince off. As the faithful servant of the Faith did her duty to their chosen messiah, Jaime turned around, ready to leave. Before he left, though, he gave his sister the answer he had told himself.

"He's our future King, sister. And no one can stop it." With those words said, Jaime Lannister left the room.

As the Silent Sister worked, Marcus's eyes moved back and forth under his eyelids.

He was still dreaming.


Marcus listened to every word that Sasuke Uchiha told him with great interest. He listened to the story of Otsutsuki Kaguya-hime, and how she ate the forbidden fruit of the God Tree to end the war and strife of the world. He listened to how the woman ended those things, ushering in a world of peace, until she went mad with power, enslaving humanity with her incredible power. He listened to how the goddess gave birth to twins, and that the oldest, the Sage of Six Paths, would go on to end her cruel hold on the world by defeating his mother, who had joined with the God Tree to create a great beast with ten tails and unimaginable power. He listened to how the Holy Sage and his brother defeated the god of destruction, and sealed it within himself, becoming something called a Jinchuuriki, or Human Sacrifice.

He listened to how the Holy Sage went on to create ninshu, the harmony the world needed for so long, and how he had two sons… two sons named Asura and Indra. He listened to how the Sage passed his teachings on to his children and followers, and how Indra took to them like second nature, and how Asura struggled with everything. He listened to Indra's beliefs of personal power to be true strength and the only way for peace. He listened to how Asura felt that love and cooperation was the only way to attain peace, and how he, the youngest son of the great Sage, was appointed the successor of ninshu. That, by gathering around people who shared his same beliefs, Asura was able to truly become powerful, enough so that he could face his brother in combat on equal footing. He listened to the great Battle of First Sons, the epic conclusion of the Sage's children… or, what should have been the conclusion.

The battle had ended with the death of both brothers, but the war was far from over. Asura's descendants, the Senju, and Indra's descendants, the Uchiha, would wage war on each other like the world had never seen before when men would fight other men. And within the never ending conflict, the sons of the Sage would continue to be reborn, constantly seeking each other out, even if unaware, and once again continue their eternal conflict. Centuries of this would transpire, shaping the world into something far more corrupt than before. He listened to how the Sage's gift had been tainted by men, and used to kill and wage war.

He listened to the tale of Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama. He listened to how the two met and became friends as close as brothers in a world that had killed most of their blood. He listened to how these two trained together, how these two "transmigrants" bonded, how Asura and Indra – for the first time in hundreds of years – walked side by side instead of fighting each other. He listened to their dream of a united people, where little brothers, big brothers, sons, fathers and uncles didn't have to die for a reason everyone knew, but no one could understand. He listened to how Madara and Hashirama eventually had to sever their friendship, and forsake their dream, for their family. The two would meet each other on the battlefield many a time before the conflict would finally fix itself. With the death of his last brother, Madara faced Hashirama for one last time, the awe-shocking battle finally ending with the defeat of Madara. But instead of killing his once rival and greatest friend like everyone else wished him to do, Hashirama spared him, wanting nothing but to unite their clans under a single banner, their dream. He even offered to sacrifice himself for this chance at peace, and it ended with the birth of Konohagakure no Sato, the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

He listened to how Hashirama was chosen to be their first leader, and how Madara felt great resentment for most of the Senju for not truly accepting the Uchiha. He listened to how Madara lost the support of the Uchiha, the rest of the clan turning their backs on the man who had singlehandedly protected them his entire life. That kind of betrayal, the kind of hatred that Madara felt made him seek the one thing he believed would let him "fix the world". He listened to how Madara left the village, and later faced Hashirama at a place called the Valley of End. He listened how… Madara… summoned a mighty beast with nine tails and a roar that shook the earth, and encased it in the ethereal warrior known as Susanoo. He listened to how Senju Hashirama took both the power of the Uchiha and the nine-tailed demon called a Bijuu by himself, and even overwhelmed them both. He listened to how the man known as the First Hokage had to kill his best friend, for his best friend had lost himself in the darkness that the world was so good at producing.

He listened and listened, and with every second that passed, he grew more and more frightened. Was he going to become like them? Was he going to wield the power to decimate continents? Was he going to go mad with the power he would attain? He needed to know more… he needed to know everything.

So he listened.


"Do you understand, now? Do you understand what you are? Who you are?" Sasuke asked.

Marcus was silent. His hands trembled and his eyes were downcast. "Yes." He answered breathlessly.

Sasuke's cold, onyx eyes gazed upon the next link in the chain… the last link. "This is just the beginning, child." He continued. "The first lesson was vengeance, and it was the hardest of them all. Now, you must take the second test." He shook his head, and when he spoke, it was from personal experience. "They don't get any easier, Marcus. Each time you pass one, and think it could not get any harder; another will pop up, this one more difficult than the last. It's ironic really… to end a cycle of hatred, you must endure a cycle of pain."

Pain…

Again, red clouds and endless rain flashed through Marcus's head, this time more vivid. "Pain… he was from your time… wasn't he?" Memories of blood red hair and purple, ringed eyes as cold as steel flooded his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. "Who was he…?" he asked.

Sasuke shook his head, his eyes closed. "Pain was a piece of the puzzle." Sasuke replied.

"What puzzle? Please… just tell me." He wasn't exactly sure why, but he felt as if he absolutely needed to know pain… The very name caused so much emotion, so much feeling within him, that he needed to know… he needed to hear it.

"Peace." Sasuke began. "Pain was a crucial piece of the puzzle that is peace." He smirked. "Don't take my word for it, though. I never met the man… but you have. You fought Pain, you conquered Pain… you saved Pain. Those memories are there; within your mind… all you have to do is look… and remember…"

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. He tried to concentrate on the feelings, on what he saw when he thought of Pain. Before long, though, red clouds raced through his mind again, and endless rains washed over everything. His vision became foggy as the world around him bled crimson. The last thing he saw was the eyes of Sasuke Uchiha.

The eyes that were three crimson ellipses atop obsidian.

The eyes that mirrored his own.


He clenched his hand into a fist, smiling. He was so strong now, he could feel it. Every time he inhaled, more power flooded his body, and every time he exhaled, the world embraced him. He was one with nature now… he understood it, finally.

He held his hand out, towards the others, and began to spin the energy within him in his palm. Faster and faster, the energy span, grinding, screeching, growing. Blue light screamed in the heavy forested area, so loud, so large, so powerful. This was it… he did it… absolute perfection. The others vanished, smoke rising in the cool air of night, floating to the stars that littered the sky, the moon ever-present. This was it.

His target was an innocent tree ten or fifteen feet in front of him. He smirked, the power inside him mixing, feeding off the energy of nature, humming in absolute harmony. This was for the man who taught him when no one else could. This was for the man who believed in him no matter what kind of obstacle stood in his way. This was for the man who loved him like a son. This was for the man he looked up to like a father… This was for the man who died trying to end his suffering.

This was for Jiraiya, the man who named him.

He threw the spiraling ball of energy, the Rasenshuriken, and it hit the tree, and the boulders on each side, and the trees surrounding it, and everything else within the immediate vicinity. Everything.

It was all gone. When the dust settled, and the night was silent once more, everything that had been around the tree… it was gone. He had done it.

He had perfected perfection. He perfected the Rasenshuriken.

He was ready to face Pain.

And then the rest of the Akatsuki would be next.


He felt pain.

The village was destroyed, and Kakashi-sensei was gone… People were dying because of the man who stood over him, his purple, ringed eyes staring at him like cold steel. There was a black rod through his hands, pinning him to the decimated earth he had just fought on.

It was Pain. The man standing over him… he was Pain.

"You asked me why I am doing all of this. Even if I told you, I doubt that would change anything." The man who called himself Pain spoke, crouching so that they could speak better. "But what if we tried to have a discussion once more?" He asked in his cold, stoic voice.

He narrowed his eyes at Pain. "I have nothing to discuss with you."

"My goal is something even Jiraiya-sensei was unable to achieve. As I mentioned earlier… Creating peace, and bringing about justice." Pain spoke regardless.

"Peace? Justice?" he asked. The rods that pierced his hands hurt, but the anger began to overwhelm even that. "Yeah right… don't give me that crap!" His voice was trembling, in both fatigue and rage. "My master! My Sensei! My friends! My village!" he clenched his hands through the pain. "After everything you've done, don't you dare talk about peace and justice!" he panted.

All the while, Pain just stared at him with uncaring eyes. "Then tell me what your goal is?"

"I'm gonna kill you! And bring peace back to the shinobi world!" He shouted without a second's hesitation.

After a slight pause, Pain began. "I see… that is noble of you. That is justice indeed. However…" he began to walk to the side. When he stopped, he was right next to the newest sage. "My family… My friends… My village… They suffered the same fate as this village, by you Konoha shinobi. How is it fair to only let you people to preach about peace and justice?"

"What are you talking about?" He asked in a harsh whisper.

"Hi no Kuni and Konoha had grown too big. To protect its national interests, it forced feudal clans to wage war against each other, and profited from it." Pain explained. "Otherwise, the nation and the people of the villages would have starved. However, our nation and its villages became the battlefields for the Great Nation's war. And each time, our nation was ravaged and laid to waste. After all the fighting subsided, things stabilized in the Great Nation. And our little nation was left to suffer the pain and misery."

He looked away from the man he hated, unable to defend his village for its past sins. So he stayed silent, and Pain continued.

"You and I seek the same thing. We are trying to establish the peace Jiraiya-sensei so desired." Pain's words sunk deep. "You and I are not different at all. We each act according to our own sense of justice. The justice I delivered to Konoha is no different to what you are trying to do to me. The pain of losing someone dear to you is the same. And both of us know that pain all too well." He still couldn't say a word. He couldn't speak out against Pain… the man… he was right… "You have your justice… And I have mine. We are both ordinary men, driven to seek vengeance under the banner of justice. However, if there is justice in vengeance, then justice will only breed more vengeance."

The next words pain would speak would resonate within him, effecting how he perceived the world thousands of years later, and through knew eyes.

"And trigger a cycle of hatred."

He looked at pain with curious, narrowed eyes, and listened as the man continued, too enraptured in his words to feel the pain coursing through his hands.

"We are living in the middle of such a phenomenon right now. We know what the past has been and we can predict what the future will be. That is history as we know it. So we cannot help but believe that human beings are incapable of understanding each other. The world of shinobi is ruled by hatred."

Words spoken to him by the sage before him rushed through his mind. A promise he made to Jiraiya… that if the old pervert could not find peace… then he would…

"How would you confront this hatred, in order to create peace?" Pain asked. "I want to hear your answer.

He was silent for a moment, closing his eyes. When he finally reopened them, he spoke in a defeated tone. "I don't have an answer… to something like that."

The wind became heavy, ushering in a brief silence between the two. And then, Pain began.

"I formed the Akatsuki in order to stop this cycle of hatred. I can put an end to it."


It had been a week since the King declared open war with the House Greyjoy. Things were moving quickly. Ravens had already been sent to the North, requesting the only man Robert trusted just as much as Jon, Eddard Stark, to gather his men and march for the Iron Islands. And the King's own brother, Stannis Baratheon, was preparing the fleet. It would be a cold day in the seventh hell before Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm let some upstarts win a damned rebellion against him. The Ironborn wanted blood, so he'd drown them in their own crimson. House Lannister, House Tully, and House Tyrell all added their support for the war, as they were expected to, and pledged their metal to and men to him, their King.

Currently, Robert was in his son's chambers, watching Lyanna's child – his child – as the Silent Sisters cared for him with reverence. They were gentle with him, like he was a delicate flower. It made him sick to see his boy in such a condition. His son was born a King, the sun and the moon were his. He deserved to run as much as he wanted, through fields, with people bowing to him as he went by. That was what his son should be doing, not lying in a bed, unable to wake up due to a whore-born bastard.

Just thinking about all of this reinforced his decision of declaring war on the Iron Islands. He'd show the world what would happen if anyone tried to take what little of Lyanna he still had left away from him. He was going to bathe in Ironborn blood soon.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Yes? Who is it?" he shouted at the closed door.

"Your Grace, apologies, but we have received word from Lannisport." The voice of the Grand Maester sounded out. From the corner of his eye, Robert saw Cersei – who still hadn't left the room for whatever reason – perk in interest.

"Come in." he commanded. The door opened, and Pycelle entered.

"Your Grace." He bowed to the King. "My Queen." He bowed to the Queen. He then unfurled a piece of paper, an obvious letter sent by raven. "Your Grace, it would seem that the Greyjoy traitors have raided Lannisport and destroyed the Lannister fleet. Apparently, they set every ship aflame." Cersei narrowed her eyes, anger within her pretty orbs. She knew that her younger brother, Tyrion – a beast, rather – was in Lannisport. With luck, he was burnt along with the ships.

"Those little cunts move fast, I'll give them that." Robert replied, looking at his son one last time before sighing. He then stood, taking hold of his rather large sword as he moved. "Alright." He started before leaving the room. "It's time I go squash those bastards for trying to harm my family." He then looked back at Marcus. "Don't worry, son, I'll finish what you started."

And with that, Robert Baratheon left the room, and would soon leave King's Landing. He had a war to fight.

All the while, Cersei Lannister stayed in the room with her son by marriage, just watching as he moaned and groaned in his deep slumber. She didn't know when or if he would wake, and she wasn't sure what she would do for either outcome. It was safe to say that the Queen was confused.


His eyes opened, and again, he was met with a blood red moon.

"So that was Pain…" Marcus whispered breathlessly.

"That was a single piece of the puzzle that is known as Pain, yes." Sasuke appeared.

"How is that man responsible for peace? The kind of peace he was speaking about… that can't be real peace, can it?"

"Real? Yes. But it's only temporary. Pain sought to usher in temporary peace between even more temporary war and conflict. He believed that, through shared pain, people could understand each other. And through that understanding, the world could know peace." Sasuke explained.

Marcus was silent for a moment before he blinked. "But he changed… didn't he?" He asked. "I… he changed Pain's point of view, right?"

Sasuke smiled. "Yes, he did."

"Who was he?" Marcus asked. "What was his name?"

Sasuke shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, kid." He pointed at the Baratheon. "You have to discover it on your own. I can only tell you what you already know."

Marcus looked at Sasuke in confusion. "But why?" he asked. "Why can't you tell me more?"

Sasuke just sighed. "You still don't get it, do you?" He asked. After Marcus stayed silent, Sasuke continued. "I am you, Marcus. Sasuke Uchiha has been gone for many, many years. I am just your mind dealing with something you cannot fully comprehend. I'm nothing but a manifestation of the half you have awakened."

Marcus looked down at his left hand, the moon marking meeting his gaze. "Yin…" he whispered. "How do I have this knowledge, though?"

"Most of the time, we transmigrants won't ever even know what we truly are. The "lucky" ones, ones like me and the one in your memories just now, we can sense it. But you… you're something else entirely. You're able to tap into the memories of those who came before you. You're able to learn from their experience, to see the world that came before through their eyes." Sasuke's eyes met his. "You're the Last Son, and it's your job to fix the world you live in."

"But how?" he asked. "How am I supposed to fix… that?" Marcus knew what his world was like. It was not a pretty place, not in the slightest.

Sasuke smirked. "The second lesson." He pointed at Marcus. "You know what it is…" his eyes bled red, and the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan gazed upon the King of Kings. "Complete it, and the one who brought peace to the old world will help you." He smiled. "You have all of Sasuke Uchiha's memories, his feelings. Use them, just don't let them use you."

Without preamble, Sasuke was gone, leaving Marcus all alone.

"Wait!" he shouted. "You never told me where I am!" his voice echoed in the mass of emptiness.

Nothing replied back, but then, nothing needed to, because the moment the last word left his tongue, he knew…

He knew exactly where he was.

So he spoke the name of this world. Of his world.

"Tsukuyomi."


Marcus's eyes snapped open in his room in the Red Keep, sitting upright fast. He heard a startled gasp at the end of his bed, so he blinked his eyes, clearing them of the haziness. When his eyes focused, Cersei Lannister, the Queen, was who he was met with.

"Queen Cersei?" he asked in a weak tone. He tried to swallow, but his throat was terribly dry. His eyes roamed his surroundings, and he blinked slowly. "Where's father?" he asked curiously.

Cersei was just silent and still. She didn't move at all, and Marcus swore she didn't blink or breathe. An awkward silence fell over them, but thankfully, it was broken when the door opened, and a Silent Sister walked through, a glass of water in her hand. The moment she walked in, she bowed her head, and she didn't act at all like she was surprised.

The Sister handed him the glass of water, and he took it graciously, slowly but surely downing it. As the cold liquid soothed his rough throat, a second figure walked through the door.

"How are you feeling, child?" The High Septon asked in a gentle, caring voice.

Marcus slowly inhaled, and then exhaled. "Tired." He rasped. "What happened?" he asked.

He noticed that Cersei was still motionless.

"You've been asleep for a week and a half, my Prince." The holy man began. "You, the Queen, and your brother were attacked by Greyjoy traitors, who sought to start their rebellion against the throne by spilling the blood of the King of Kings." Marcus listened the best he could, but it was starting to get more difficult.

"… Arya…" he whispered. "She's… she's really gone, isn't she?" he asked the leader of the Faith.

The High Septon nodded sadly. "Yes, child…" he put his hand on the prince's shoulder. "I am sorry, but she has gone to join the gods now."

Tears threatened to fall down his face, the woman he saw as a mother now gone forever… because of him… "Where's my father?" he asked in such a weak, defeated voice that Cersei almost embraced him. But before her motherly instincts kicked in, the High Septon captured him in a hug.

"Your father has declared war on the Iron Islands, and their "king", Balon Greyjoy." The man felt something wet on his shoulder, but said nothing. "He will return once he has dealt with the traitors."

"No." Marcus whispered, pushing away from the High Septon. Tears ran freely down his cheeks, but his face expressed nothing but murderous intent, so much so that Cersei took a step back. "I will not sit here while my father wages war on my enemies." While the Greyjoy were rebelling to be a separate nation from the Seven Kingdoms, they had targeted Marcus specifically. In his eyes, they had declared war on him, and now he needed to show them why they had made such a terrible mistake.

"What are you saying?" the High Septon asked, though, he already knew the answer.

"I'm saying, your holiness, that I am going to the Iron Islands, and I'm going to make them know pain." Marcus spoke in a deathly tone, and his eyes suddenly changed, the Mangekyo Sharingan greeting the people in the room.

Cersei suddenly found it hard to breathe, and her legs shook. She felt sheer terror, and in that moment, she felt like she was going to die. It was as if a pressure had fallen on them all, and no one but Marcus, and strangely the High Septon, didn't shake in fear.

Then, the pressure vanished…

Along with Marcus Baratheon…

He was just… gone… He was there one moment, and then…

He was gone.


Author's Note's: Next chapter, shit is going to go down… I think. (Hopefully.)

I thought this was perfectly clear, but for those of you who aren't absolutely positive, I'll say it right out. Marcus is NOT Naruto, or Sasuke. He is an OC, who will have some characteristics of both, and similar abilities. I'm not sure what Marcus looks like, that's up to the reader. He has black hair, and skin similar to Sasuke. In my mind, I see him as Menma (black-haired Naruto from the movie), just less Japanese, and without the whiskers. But then, in certain scenes, I see him as Sasuke, but again, less Japanese. But since I don't have a definite look for him, use your imaginations. He can look like anything you want him to, within reason. He's a good looking kid, no doubt. I couldn't, in my right mind, give everyone's favorite Mother of Dragons an ugly pairing, now could I?

Please review. The more reviews, the more I want to write.

Question: What was your favorite thing to watch as a little kid? (Mine was Power Rangers!)

Fact: I'm single at the moment. So, "All the single ladies, all the single ladies, put your hands up!" Hahaha… I'm a dork. (I'm hella listening to that song right now.)