I do not own any rights to Naruto (story or characters). Just the characters I make up along the way! I have full love and respect for Masashi Kishimoto!

While this isn't my first story it is under my pen name, Aubrei Seraph. I hope you enjoy it and feel free to ask me any questions or offer any suggestions!

Have fun!

UPDATE: It's been awhile. I've had a lot of stuff happen since I originally published this but my heart has never left this story. I am working on editing chapters 2-4 and I've got through chapter 8 written. Please let me know what you think! :)

UPDATE 6/28/16: I reread this and realized that I was getting mixed up with another one of my fics. So I've had to make some changes to some of this chapter in order for everything to make since. I've since stopped the other fic and am focusing on this one solely. Hopefully I won't get them confused again, sorry!

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From the darkest corner of the world, a lone throne sits hidden far beneath the earth. It's carved from the strongest stone and marked with symbols, not of this world. It's a powerful image sitting in the dark, a thing to be worshiped as is the person who occupies its. Currently, it remains empty, waiting for its owner to return. No one dares to come any closer, afraid of the power that simple piece of furniture holds. Yet, deep in the hearts of those that peer out of the darkness a hunger lurks. A hunger for the power that owns that chair.

Six pairs of eyes are glowing in the dark moving along the stone surface of the throne in envy. Whispers are heard on the wind speaking of power and fear; fear of the man that takes up this dark throne. While they covet this throne and the power with it none of them are brave enough to attempt to take it. Fear keeps them at bay but even with fear discord can be felt in the air. It's been too long now, too long living in this darkness and moving through the shadows. The masses have become restless and you can hear their frustration in the voices carried on the wind.

"I cannot take this anymore! How long must we crawl around the ground like insects?!" The voice, decidedly male, echoes through the room pulling all eyes toward him. "What if he hears you Fujin?!" A soft voice whispers eyes darting around the room in fear. Fujin just laughs his voice dark and full of frustration. "Let him hear me Suijin! How are we supposed to complete our mission if all we do is hide in the shadows?!" Fujin yells his arm swiping across the air like a knife. "Because it is as I command." The force of the words spoken sends the once enraged man stumbling further into the dark.

Standing in the center of the room where once there was only darkness stood a figure bathed in shadow. His eyes glowed with his power turning them into twin pools of molten silver. With a quick glare at his subordinates, the man turned his focus to his throne. Six pairs of eyes followed him as he stepped towards it, flinching at each step. "For a thousand years, we have lived among the humans searching for the traitor Sorano. Now the man is dead and our quest should have been complete." His voice was low as he sat down on the cold stone surface. His hands clenched the armrest as he looked out over his subordinates the fire of hell in his eyes. "Yet, since no one has been able to find the location of the Shimon we are stuck hiding in this hole like worms. All the while those filthy humans run over the earth like gods!" The force of his anger shook the earth beneath their feet. Rock and sediment went scuttling across the floor leaving six sets of eyes cowering in fear. None of them would stand in defiance of him even if their thoughts were filled with hate for this man. No, there was no denying the power of the person sitting on the throne. He was a god amongst gods and each of them bowed to him in reverence.

It was the youngest amongst them that dared to approach. He stepped forward his body bowed in respect but his eyes filled in terror. "My Lord." His voice was shaking with each syllable as he fought the fear choking him. It wasn't fear of death, no. Even if they managed to incur the wrath of their Lord they would not be killed; at least not yet. There were things beyond death, beyond the ending that were far more terrifying. The levels of pain and agony that their Lord could inflict upon them were scars on their body. The youngest could see them even now peeking out from beneath his clothing. It was a reminder of what lie in store for them should they fail. "When Sorano died he took the hiding place of the Shimon with him, but that kind of power will not remain hidden." He whispered softly his eyes refusing to look up into those molten pools of silver. "Omoikane." The sound of his name being spoken by his Lord sent terror rushing through his veins, but it was too late to run now.

"The spies I've planted in each Shinobi nation have started to move. I've narrowed down the location of the Shimon to five villages. It will take some time but I am sure it can be found soon." Omoikane finished his report but remained bowed as his lord absorbed the information. Silence filled the room and five pairs of eyes looked down at their comrade with growing fear. The silence was broken by the boisterous laughter of their leader sending all them into a panic. Omoikane jumped curling in on himself, sure that he was about to feel his Lord's wrath. When nothing happened Omoikane chanced to open his eyes. He was met with the glowing orbs of his Lord's eyes now within inches of his own.

"Good work." He purred his hand like ice as it rubbed along the skin of Omoikane's cheek. Slowly he let his hand fall down the scared man's chest snaking around his waist to pull him close. His Lord rested his head against the terrified man closing his eyes for one terrifying moment. "Such a good boy. Make sure that nothing interferes with your task." His other hand came up to run along his jaw pulling the young man's face inches from his own. Omoikane looked up into the silver eyes of his Lord and saw death reflected there. His body convulsed in fear and pain as the grip on his jaw tightened to the point of breaking. "You do not want to feel my wrath should you fail." His voice was like silk covered in brimstone and Omoikane knew that only pain was in his future should he fail. Shaking uncontrollably he nodded minutely. "Yes-s Lord Erai."