"Hold on Naruto… please, hold on…"
In his life as a being of raw chakra, Kurama had never felt so helpless before. Never had he felt this useless. Not when fighting that pest Madara, not when he was forced to succumb underneath that Uchiha's illusions, and not when he was forced to risk his own existence when the moon-folk descended to wreak havoc in the Elemental Nations.
No. They could not compare to what he was feeling now.
His host, the second human he had ever come to respect, was in agony. There was no other way to describe it; agony was all his host felt the moment they found themselves in this new world.
The sky was dark, the stars twinkling, as if mocking their current plight. The nature chakra Kurama gathered earlier in hopes of healing his host backfired. Rather than speeding up his host's healing factor, it worked against him.
Thus forcing Kurama to use his own chakra to heal the currently wreathing blond. That alone was not a problem in and of itself. The problem was the fact that he could not do exactly that.
For some reason, the moment they touched down into this star, their senses were overwhelmed by unwarranted rejection. It was hard to properly describe as neither he nor his partner have a way of doing so.
Something – someone – was actively eating away his partner's chakra in some way. Due to the deep connection they share, Kurama could feel every single drop of his host's chakra being consumed by this offending force.
Deep within Naruto's soul, Kurama let loose a growl of frustration. If this keeps up, then death was imminent.
No, he can't die. That, like most things in the man's life, had been taken away from him…
So here he was stuck with doing the only thing he could do: feeding the human he had been stuck with for a very long time his chakra until whatever was killing him stop.
It looked futile. But Kurama did not care. He could not afford to care or think about giving up. Being stuck with the man for this long had given him a tendency to being stubborn; not that it's a bad thing. So he would not stop. Even if he had to give the man every single drop of his chakra, just so that he would live… then so be it.
The stubborn fool would've done the same for him.
His host's screams of agony was loud and biting, hurting him in ways not even those moon-folks could. With every single drop of his own chakra he gave his host, twice more were consumed by the malicious force. Time was a blur, no longer a concept the Nine Tailed beast considered worth knowing all in favor of saving the life of his host.
He could feel his power waning. Not good. Not good at all.
"I'm sorry Naruto…" He apologized while still futilely sending the very last reserve of chakra he had, "at least, we'll be together…"
Then, quietness.
Underneath the lime of moonlight, a hero stopped breathing.
Within the boundless light of a soul that the hero possessed, a beast reclined to his fate of disappearing after doing all he could to save his one and only partner, despite the lack of result.
…
But, someone came.
Kurama felt them. How could he not? When a presence so overwhelming, yet composed, walked into their vicinity and approached, he stirred back into consciousness, unwilling to resign to fate. He would not succumb yet, no, not when there's still a chance to save his partner!
So, with power he never thought he had, the Nine Tailed Fox broke through the barrier of his host's soul, "YOU! QUICK! HELP THIS MAN!"
Kurama felt it again. The presence was nearing on its approach, confirmed by the steadily increasing amount of energy he felt coming from this mysterious source. The fox was unable to see who had come to them, as the senses he shared with his host were blocked caused by the latter's unconsciousness.
"Help! Please, this man is hurting, even if he is unconsciousness, he is suffering!" He did what his siblings thought he would never do; he begged. He pleaded. Nothing was greater than this. Not arrogance and certainly not his pride. "If you are a kind soul, please, save this man!"
The Stranger, garbed in white with a concealing hood over His head, began kneeling down, letting the coarseness of sand and dirt stain His robes. He set down the walking staffHe had with Him in favor of attending to the helpless soul.
Having laid His eyes on the unconscious man before Him, the Stranger realized that a battle was being waged here. A battle known only to this unfortunate soul and the World itself.
Yet, despite the gravity of it all, He could not help but ask, "a demon pleading for the life of a human…?" gentle was His voice as it conveyed disbelief over what He was seeing. He steeled His composure, leaving behind all manner of doubts and confusion for later. "I can help, fear not."
The kind Traveler laid a hand on the broken temple of flesh Kurama called a host. What the fox felt next was beyond words.
No longer did he have to futilely replenish his host's chakra. No longer did he feel like falling into an eternal slumber, fearing that his partner would rot away in the immortal husk he called body. All of that was no longer a concern to him. How could this be?
Kurama felt rejuvenated; healed! What was lost, had returned! What was once a dying ember of a soul his host had, had been rekindled into a small, but steady, flame. Kurama could feel his partner's heartbeat steadying before drifting to slumber, resting.
All of this was possible because of the kind Stranger who went out of His way to help them.
Naturally, the Tailed Beast could not help but ask, "who are you?" Kurama failed to recognize the awe in his own voice.
The Stranger, having picked up His staff, was just about to rise back up on His feet when He heard an inhuman voice coming from within the soul of the man He had just healed.
Kurama felt himself staring back at a pair of rainbow colored eyes and was rendered speechless when they pierced through the soul of his host and locked in on him.
Once again, he was flooded with an overwhelming sensation. Yet this time, there was no threat to his or his host's life. Underneath those rainbow-colored eyes, Kurama felt like being singled out out of everything, really. Out of time, out of space. It was as if these things never existed to the owner of those eyes.
The Stranger, seeing that there was no reason to bereft the demon of answers, answered, "****** *** *****."
Having revealed His name, the Stranger left. Not bothering asking for compensation, without demanding them anything; He just up and left.
On that day, a miracle was performed.
"So let me get this straight: a ritualistic war for a wish-fulfilling holy chalice is about to take place here in this part of the world, in this country, in this part of Japan, and localized entirely within this town?"
"...yes."
"And this war has the potential of ending badly to the point where people's lives could be on the line?"
"Yes."
"But – in the midst of it building up – somehow, some way, you managed to figure out that this chalice that everyone's going to fight for is ultimately corrupt and that there's no telling whether or not another tragedy like the fire that fire that happened ten years ago could happen?"
"Yes, you got the gist of it, boy."
"Oh." The boy then snapped, "how can you say that so calmly!" He had exploded into a rare display of emotional outburst, a stark contrast from his calm and stoic demeanor.
Sitting on the floor of the guest room that they had used to put an unconscious Servant in, both man and boy were right by said resting Servant. Although still looking like she had gone through a physical wringer, the Servant was on a much stabler condition than before. This was thanks to Naruto, who – much to his partner's annoyance – had used a little amount of his life force to stabilize the inevitably fading Servant.
To Shirou's eyes, the man might have just had performed a miracle right there and then.
"Oh, don't mistake my tone for calmness, Shirou-bou." Naruto told the boy chidingly with a raised eyebrow. He then said, "I am merely under the after effect of having healed that thing over there."
Shirou turned his head to briefly glance at the so-called 'thing' Naruto was referring to. He might not know what these 'Servants' really were, but it felt wrong calling someone with the appearance of a human as a 'thing'.
"Then," Shirou began, "you are a magus?" he asked as if he had just swallowed a rock down his throat.
"No." Shirou was surprised at how quickly the blond man answered. He must've seen the confusion in his eyes and began elaborating, "if you mean am I a magus with the assumption that I practice Magecraft, then no, I am not a magus. There's no way I could ever be one."
"But you just—"
"Boy," the older man cast the redhead a piercing look that borderline on being sarcastic, "are you seriously wondering about something like that at the moment? There are better questions to ask, Shirou-bou, leave out the unimportant ones and ask the good ones instead."
"Well…" Now feeling pressured by the man, Shirou was forced to search deep down for any more query he might have had left to ask the man with. "These Servants… they're not human, are they?"
The author shifted his pose, taking on a more contemplative look. "As far as I know, they probably used to be humans. The system that allowed for them to be summoned in the first place is able to call forth people of legends like those in the history books." His eyebrows furrowed, taking into consideration how he should word out his next sentence. "But if you're asking whether or not that person resting on the futon over there is a human or not, then, no. It is not human."
Yet Shirou still could not comprehend what he meant.
"It's a spirit of some sort," Naruto clarified, sensing the confusion that remained within the boy, "it might possess a body, but it's not one of flesh and blood like ours. It's a construct of the chalice, a placeholder for the spirit it is supposed to embody. Trust me, I can tell."
Somehow, Shirou could believe him easily.
"Still, boy, I had you figured for being among these magic users," Naruto remarked with a slight smile, making him come off as scheming, "how far have you been one of them?"
Despite what had just happened, Shirou felt compelled to answer him if not out of courtesy alone, "it's not really the case. As a magus, I'm third rate at best. I can't do most of the things proper magus consider simple. And… my dad was the one who taught me."
The blond man did not comment on his answer. Instead, he rolled his shoulders nonchalantly. "Well, that's great news I suppose."
"What do you mean?" Shirou asked with his head tilted to show confusion.
"If you were some random run-of-the-mill Joe who saw Arc dragging the body of a wounded and unconscious Servant and witnessed me heal said Servant, I'd be compelled to render you unconscious without any recollection of whatever happened in the past hour or so."
The boy gulped.
"And it's great news because, in order for me to do that, I'll have to punch you." He paused, smirking. "Like, really hard."
"G-Good that's not the case, then…"
"Indeed."
"Then, what are you going to do from now on?" asked the redhead to the blond, "you've essentially got one of the participants of the war that's about to take place, are you going to…" Shirou left his words hanging for the sake of not wanting to sound morbid by explicitly saying what he had implied.
"I'm tempted, honestly," Shirou's eyes went wide at what the man had just admitted, "I've no intention of joining this bloody ritual, Shirou-bou. And, frankly, the fewer participants there are, the fewer people will be hurt."
"But you don't know that!" accused the boy to the man, his voice sharp and heated, "she could be a good person for all we know, a-and she might be able to help with reducing casualties in the war!"
The sudden display of stubbornness he was seeing coming from the boy surprised him. He had known him for a little less than five years now, and never once had he seen the boy like this. Oh well.
"But are you going to risk that, boy?" The man pointed a finger at the teenager, though accusatory in practice, in hindsight, he was merely making a statement, "how do you know for sure that she won't take advantage of my hospitality by attacking us the moment she wakes up?"
Shirou was about to bark an answer, but the man was ruthless on his verbal onslaught, "and what happens afterward, huh? She's essentially a stray wraith now, a boundless spirit without a master. And from what I'm sensing, she's more than capable of dealing a large amount of damage before she eventually disappears; probably the reason why she's like this in the first place."
The boy felt unable to answer the man after he had raised the points he listed. He might be a third-rate magus, but he too knew that Magecraft could do great harm to those who were ignorant to it. He remembered his foster father. It was no secret to him that his death was a cause of Magecraft. And if this Servant was able to do a greater version of it… he dreaded to even picture it.
...but to kill someone in such a helpless state, even if it's for the sake of the safety of people… it's unacceptable!
"...even so…!" the boy struggled, his hands clenched so hard to a point where his fists were pale, "that doesn't mean that she can't do good!"
"…" The silence and stoic countenance of an adult man were all Shirou could get.
An uncomfortable silence descended into the room, immersing the two males in an air that was quickly growing stale and awkward. The two remained fixed in their positions; the man pensive and unchanging, while the boy was defiant and high-strung. Neither of them showed signs of giving in to the other's will.
And they didn't have to. The sound of the front door being opened, followed by a familiar call of Naruto's name by a red-eyed Vampire was enough to snap the two males from their silence.
"We'll talk about this on a later date, Shirou," the boy noted the lack of prefix to his name, "go home. Your family must be wondering where you are now."
And, so, Shirou left without saying anything else. As he walked back home, and after getting scolded by Taiga and having to deal with a worried Sakura, he still felt uneasy of what had transpired over at his neighbor's house.
When Medea of Cholcis came to, she was absolutely stumped.
Oh so stumped.
She remembered betraying her master, destroying his workshop, and freeing his test subjects. She also remembered passing out after seeing a figure in white standing before her. And, now, next thing she knew, she's lying on a bedsheet feeling none the worse for wear.
She also knew that she was in potential danger, despite her current state of consciousness. How could she come up with this conclusion? It's simple: she had found herself in the lair of one – no, two – of the three abnormally powerful signatures she felt yesterday.
It was this knowledge that prevented her from breaking out through the bedroom window and flee. It might sound like the only logical thing to do, but Caster was not going to risk having these two monumental presences chase after her when they eventually realized that she had decided to make a break for it.
So, essentially, she resigned herself to fate.
"Ah, you're awake."
She was so deep in her own thoughts that she almost did not feel the arrival of one of the powerful presences into the room. She was aware of how little that statement meant but unless they were actively suppressing their signature, then she had no other explanation other than her own negligence was at fault.
The paper shoji doors were opened to reveal a tall blond man who appeared to be just a decade shy of being appropriate for the term middle-aged. He was dressed rather casually, with a loose-fitting navy blue kimono and a matching pair of shorts. It was not only his clothing that was casual, but his overall appearance in general.
For someone who – as far as she could tell – knew that they had a Servant inside their house, he seemed calmer than a bear hibernating throughout the entirety of winter. Was it just a red-herring for her?
Medea then smelled something tantalizing coming from the same general direction as the man, her eyes landing on the tray filled with bowls and eating utensils placed on top of it. She watched as the man picked up the tray with both his hands, one completely bare and another wrapped in white cloth.
"I'm not as good as the boy when it comes to cooking, but my friend quite liked what I've made so it should not be too bad." Her eyes remained fixed on his approaching form even as he was speaking, ready for the slightest hint of aggression. "Then again, that girl will almost eat anything so long as it's edible…"
He laid the tray of food before her, causing her to shift her attention back to the meal he had prepared. Medea, realizing this, immediately cast her gaze back on the man. She saw him changing expression; from casual indifference to one of being slighted.
"I know you have questions, so do I," he began, his voice reproaching, "but at the very least show some manners and introduce yourself to the one who allowed you to recover within his house and prepared breakfast on top of it all."
Medea would normally not do with someone speaking to her in that sordid and plodding manner, but she stuck true with her gut feeling to not do anything rash or unfavorable towards the man in front of her.
"My name is Caster." She did it. She introduced herself. Probably not in the manner he expected her to, but that was not her problem.
"Caster… huh?" Blue eyes narrowing into slits, Caster could not help but feel pressured when she was the target of their attention. The blond appeared to be thinking, finger already scratching the stubble on his chin. "Ah, so you are a Servant after all."
He then began to stare at her for a certain amount of time, and while not too long, it's just long enough to make her feel uncomfortable. He dropped his gaze, eventually, much to her relief.
"In any case," he gestured to the tray of food he had left on the foot of her futon, "eat up. I know that you spiritual entities don't necessarily need food, but I've been told that it helps as a last resort." He paused, before speaking again, saying, "and while you're eating, let's talk."
Medea prepared herself.
"And, please, do know that I can tell when and if you are lying. So spare yourself the effort."
She prepared herself even more.
As she began fiddling with her eating utensils – her host had graciously prepared her with a spoon and fork combo rather than chopsticks – Caster began taking small bites of the meal that had already been prepared for her.
It was a simple dish of fish, rice, and soup. A simple meal, but one that was palatable and pleasing to her taste buds. He was right about spirit-based entities like her not needing food as a primary source of sustenance, but it did help with restoring Mana albeit very slightly.
"I'll begin then," Caster's eyes flickered over to the man from underneath her hood, "did you have anything to do with the burning down of a high-rise building over at Shinto last night?"
"Yes," she replied after swallowing a bite of her meal.
The man's eyes lingered on her, as if he was sniffing her off for any lies that she might have unconsciously given away even when she hadn't. He then spoke again, asking, "did you kill your master? If so, for what reason?"
Medea was hesitant to answer the question unlike the first one. She weighed the consequences of answering and not answering the question she had been asked. In the end, she decided to answer anyway. "I killed my master because he was unsatisfactory to my standards."
If he was indeed the human lie detector he made himself up to be, then he should know that she had not lied. She was vague, but being vague was not the same as lying. And it seemed he caught on to her scheme, his piercing gaze drilling through her hood but not saying anything to rebuke her.
"Last question and then you're free to ask me your own." Turnabout was fair game, after all. He let his gaze linger on the space beside her, almost as if he was looking at something only known to him.
'No,' she realized, 'He's looking at Rulebreaker!' Medea concluded, unable to prevent herself from tensing up at the realization that the man had somehow figured out that she had been hiding something on her person this entire time.
"What will you do now?"
Medea considered the question she was given now more than the previous ones. It was a legitimate question that she had yet to have a solid answer for.
"Seeing as I am without a master… I guess the only thing I can do is wait until I disappear," Medea began, setting down her unfinished meal, "despite what you have done to restore my reserves, I can only do so much without a proper contract binding me to a master."
Even now, she could feel her own presence fading. She glanced down at her half-eaten meal. A last meal.
Naruto observed the thi– woman in front of him with careful eyes. He remained fixed in his decision to not trust her, regardless whether she had good intentions or not. The answer was obviously not. She was a participant in a bloody war between magi, 'good intentions' were blurry at best.
"I see. Then, is there anything you-"
"Please, make a contract with me."
The word shot out of her mouth faster than her mind could comprehend. She received no immediate reaction to her request. It was either he felt no need to give her a proper answer or he was genuinely thinking of an answer.
He eventually spoke, saying, "I've no interest in getting involved with your war, Caster." His tone wasn't particularly cold nor understanding. With crossed arms, the owner of the house revealed, "but I wouldn't be opposed to a… compromise, let's say."
"Oh?" Medea's right eyebrow find itself rising from underneath her hood. She felt her body growing slack, no longer in the high-strung state it was in before due to her worry of disappearing.
"I will form a contract with you, but, in turn, you help me with a problem of mine." He then began shaking his head, his lips pursing to grimly before releasing a long sigh. "First of all though, I would like to apologize to you."
If she was stumped before, she was downright clueless now.
"Now don't give me that look-" she fixed her poker face quickly as if it had never slipped off her face, "-you would've been more suspicious of me if I had been all welcoming to you now wouldn't you?"
'But… you served me breakfast…' was Caster's unspoken words.
"Anyway, the truth is, I've received a tip from a certain mischievous friend of mine that you – at least one of your kind – would end up at my care."
"My kind… you mean Servants?" asked Medea, her voice unable to mask the curiosity she held within.
"Yes, Servants, spirits, whatever," the blond waved off her interruption uncaringly, "I… was also informed by my 'friend' that whoever it is that was going to end up in my house will be able to help me with a problem of mine that's been a huge pain on my soul for a very long time."
Medea thought about what he just said. "What is it exactly that you need help with?" she asked still with suspicion.
"It's related to Magecraft, or at least, the laws the govern it." Naruto answered.
Medea found herself tilting her head, slightly confused at the answer she was given.
"There's really no other way of saying this, but…"
There was nothing she could do to help prepare herself for the words she was about to hear coming out from the man's mouth.
"I need you to help me 'deny' Gaia's 'denial' of me."
She was not expecting her new living arrangements to be like this.
She had thought she would surely perish even before she could properly participate in the war, but she was 'saved' and brought into the care of a person who was now also her master.
No. Calling him her master would be wrong. She could not feel that Master-Servant connection that a proper pair was supposed to have in the first place. Rather, the contract binding them was more tangible.
He had given her a paper and inked brush for her to sign. And – she swore on her ancestor's graves – she saw him making said paper and brush disappear right before her very eyes without her feeling even the slightest hint of Magecraft being utilized.
He then began explaining his circumstances to her, throughout which she had listened whilst finishing her meal. She sat there, on top of the futon he had laid out for her, and listened to what he had to say with all of the focus and attention she had.
He started by revealing that he was not from this planet. He then escalated it by telling her that he was also not from this plane of existence. Then, it got even more absurd when he began delving into the realms of ninjas, prophecies, wars, and Lunarians.
Throughout all of this, Medea could only listen. She dare not utter a single word in fear of interrupting him and missing on an important key detail to his story. Every time he shifted his focus from topic to topic, he never failed to surprise her with what he had to say.
But where she failed to hold on to her composure was when he revealed the nonexistence of a Counter Force from where he came from.
"You looked surprised." Having seated himself before Medea, the blond outsider pointed out with a chuckle. "Can't say I blame you, though. I still remember the first time I was told that this world has a will of its own… it was easier to pin the blame for my plight, but that just made it all the more unbearable knowing that I won't be able to literally punch the one responsible for making my life hell ever since I found myself in this place."
"You want to literally punch the metaphysical consciousness of the World?"
He shrugged. "Meh, I'd do it and see if I can get away with it."
Ignoring the look of total awe and sheer astonishment that had occupied her face, the fabled Caster – Medea of Colchis – decided that it was in her best interest to shelve any questions she might have for later and instead listen to what her host had to say.
"I never really had an interest in the general reason why our worlds differ so very much, as I had myself to be concerned of." He then raised a palm, an action that she dedicated her undivided attention to. "Watch," he commanded.
Caster watched as a lick of blue flame appeared on the top of his opened palm, levitating a few millimeters from the surface of his skin. 'Prana' was the first thing that came to her mind, but when she properly looked into what was it exactly he had done, she was left baffled.
"My people call it Chakra." The name drew a reaction from Caster. She recognized the term. "It is, long story short, the life force of every living being in my world… but the humans of my world didn't always have it."
She had questions, but she was schooled in her expression and disposition, opting instead to listen and remain quiet.
"It was introduced to our world by people from the moon," Medea could not miss the spite in her host's voice even if she wanted to, "Lunarians, we call them. I've told you about them, but I haven't told you of what they've done to me. To us."
The way he was restraining not to appear bitter was noted by Medea. She felt that it had allowed her to form her own opinion of her host more. Still, she would not make the mistake of judging him too early on. But one thing was clear; it paid to be on his good side.
"One fateful day, they came down to earth." The blond began, his once expressive voice becoming hollow. "They brought with them their armies and weapons beyond our understanding. It was unlike every other Lunarian incident we had ever faced before. This time, we weren't dealing with just one or two or even ten; but a whole bloody legion of them coming from who knows where."
"I've told you how I've dealt with Toneri, the bastard who tried to steal my would-be wife. They killed him." He revealed as if it was the easiest thing to say. "They didn't spare anyone, even their own kind, as long as anyone stood on their path, they will obliterate them."
"Imagine a war. Imagine a war so great and grand in scale that the entirety of the planet was called to arms in order to fight against the invaders." And she did. She pictured it. Soldiers and armies of her time mobilizing, perhaps even without distinction from one another, and facing the inevitable. "We did not expect to win." He whispered, finally clenching his fist, suffocating the blue flame to nonexistence.
"…so at the very least, we'd deny them victory."
Medea felt his words resonate within her. It struck upon a memory in her, a memory of the many brave but also foolish warriors and soldiers of her time.
"It was a last, pathetic cry of a whimpering and dying world." He said, akin to someone who had just admitted a terrible mistake. "It was not what I wanted to do, it's not what they should do," he leveled his eyes at her, seemingly to pierce through the cover of her hood, "but it's what we could do."
He closed his eyes, seemingly unchanging and quiet. But when he opened his eyes again, Medea could not help but flinch.
"M-Mystic Eyes…" She murmured in awe. Her hood was lowered, finally revealing her face for the world to see. She did so so that she could better see her host's eyes. "No… two different Mystic Eyes on one person… how could this be…?"
It was almost unheard of! She was able to tell due to the distinct feeling she was able to feel radiating from each individual eyes. One resonated differently from the other, yet, there was an indescribable cohesion between the two that she was not able to properly explain.
"They are different, yes, but they both stem from the same source." The man with the mismatched eyes confirmed the conclusion Medea had come upon. "These eyes aren't mine. They belong to someone I cherished. A friend. A brother." A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "My… other half, you could say."
"Under normal circumstances, one would not be able to implant these eyes on another without great consequences. But due to the advancement of our technologies and my own unique circumstances, it was doable." His smile thinned out into a flat line. "So, when he finally drew his last breath on that hospital bed, he was able to give these eyes to me without any problem or whatsoever."
A cool draft rushed into the room in the form of a stray breeze that had managed to slip in from the door which was left slightly ajar.
"It was a move of desperation. No one else in our world had the reserves or amount of Chakra to properly use these eyes." Naruto explained mirthlessly with a dry chuckle. "This in turn made me some sort of trump card to be used against our invaders."
Medea recalled the story he told her. About Beasts with tails that numbered their strength. Her host, supposedly, had the collective power and abilities of the prior eight while having the support, backing, and unbounded strength of the last and strongest one. She knew not what scale to properly measure these Beasts with, and she hoped she would not have to find out.
"Then… the finale."
His eyes – both purple and red – gleamed dangerously. Underneath the shade of the ceiling and low light, they looked downright intimidating and horrific. Medea could tell that his ire was not drawn at her, but merely projected around the room.
"They trapped me in a pocket dimension. One that I had no way of escaping. They had isolated me from the rest of my friends and forced me to fight against them in an uneven match. I didn't know how many I fought. I didn't know how long it took. But by the time I finished off the last Lunarian I fought, it was already too late."
The light bulb above their heads fizzled out.
"Imagine my planet as a seedbed. Its fertile soil was then planted with the seed of a tree that bore fruit. Humanity, selfish and greedy, sought the fruit as their own and consumed it, thus blessing them with the gift of chakra. It is then inherited to their children, their children's children, so on and so forth."
Naruto's countenance took an exhausted look. "By the time I managed to return to my planet, I found the very same life force gone. What greeted me wasn't a devastated field of battle. It wasn't the aftermath of a bloody and grand war."
Medea came upon a realization.
"It was a corpse." He spat out. "The corpse of a planet it once was. An empty, dried-up husk of nature. There was no water, its soil dry and the wind was dead."
The listener imagined the picture inside her head.
"No one and nothing was left. They. Took. It. All."
She felt a small release of energy coming from the man before her, one that sent shivers up and down her spine while making her sweat icicles at the same time.
"So, I snapped. I raged. I let loose." He confessed, his tone beginning to get raspy and hitched. "I fought and fought to the point where I no longer register pain. And then, I made the greatest mistake of all in the midst of my fury."
Medea had come to the conclusion that the person before her was not a normal person by any means. Medea, being someone who surrounded herself with divines and half-divines during her lifetime, was receptive to the presence of mortals or non-mortals.
And she could confidently say that the man before her was no mere mortal. He reminded her too much of what society used to call demigods. A union between a mortal and a god. She wasn't quite sure where to put him on this scale of hers, but, he was definitely not just human.
At least not anymore, from what she was able to come up with.
"In the midst of my rage I… I… began consuming them."
Like a pebble being dropped upon the surface of a pond, his words disrupted Medea's bearings. She saw as his face twisted into shame and regret, no doubt misery was leaking off from him.
"I consumed their flesh, drank their blood, and devoured their souls." She did not miss the way he shivered as he whispered his grief. "So blinded I was that it didn't occur to me what was happening. It got to a point where I destroyed the moon – their main base of operations – and devoured every single Lunarian in it."
Caster instinctively reeled back at the revelation, unable to maintain her composure.
"I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know why I did what I did. But… all I knew was that it made them afraid. It made them hurt. It made them dead. And… it made me stronger." He sighed. "Ultimately, it was futile. They were unending. Even when I tried to rival their numbers with my own, it wasn't enough. Every one I kill ten would take their place. Ten became fifty. Fifty became a hundred. A hundred became a thousand. It was drawing out too long, they realized."
"So, they decided to do what they did to me with the pocket dimension, except with a twist, this time." Only now he allowed himself to relax, his expression softening as if letting go of an old grudge. "They displaced me here, into this world."
Medea, like him, released a breath of her own.
"And the rest is history."
An uncomfortable wave of silence washed over them. They could hear the sound of a certain White Princess laughing accompanied by the sound of TV chattering from somewhere inside the house. The dourness of the mood that had ruled the room they were in made it from uncomfortable to downright inhospitable. In response, Naruto opened his mouth to speak, effectively breaking the silence.
"Now… imagine someone like that – like me – suddenly appearing here, out of the blue."
She could. How could she not? He was already right here, after all.
"This world… it's like it's worried about me. Of what I could and might do. And I don't blame it." Naruto said while stifling a yawn. "But, still, it'd be great if I could use a jutsu without feeling like I had just run multiple marathons around town and not feel the need to break into the nearest blood bank because the world thinks that I'm a threat to it."
"So," he then began, his voice receding to a meeker tone than the one before, "please, help me?"
Medea could only weakly meet his eyes.
Naruto looked at her pleadingly.
The two then sighed in unison. They're going to have their work cut out for them.
"You sure it's wise spilling everything like that to that thing?"
Having already let Caster use the storage shed as a makeshift workshop, as well as set up a Bounded Field around his estate, he was expecting his partner to speak up sooner. He set down the plate of refreshments he had prepared for himself as he relaxed on the veranda overlooking his backyard.
"It's not like we've got any choice." He answered Kurama gruffly. Caster was making herself busy inside the shed, he observed. She had not stepped outside from the moment she locked herself in earlier today. "Might as well spill the whole thing and let her know what it is she's about to deal with."
"...what makes you so sure she'd be able to help, anyway?"
"Honestly? I don't know." The pseudo-Lunarian admitted freely, his hand reaching down to pick up a piece of strawberry mochi and then shoving it down his mouth. He took his time chewing the treat, swallowing it in one huge gulp. "Kischur seemed very convinced that whoever Caster really is, she'd be able to help us with our problem."
"Speaking of that bloodsucker… how did he know that your Princess friend would stumble upon that thing in the first place?"
"I don't know, it's Kischur we're talking about here after all." Both Beast and Man sighed in unison. "Perhaps it has something to do with him being a Magician. Perhaps he didn't know and was bluffing as he wrote that letter he left for us inside that box along with those stones."
"Those stones… they're more than enough for us to use." Kurama said. "More than enough for you to use the Rinnegan's abilities. Now if only we could extract the energy stored within those stones and take it as our own…"
"That's probably what Caster is trying to do right now." He had given the purple woman the box containing the jewels Kischur had left with Arcueid to give to him. "And yes, should I be able to utilize the power stored within those gems, using the Six Paths Technique would definitely be possible."
He had been able to utilize the Six Paths Technique in the past. When fighting the tumultuous forces of Lunarians, he could not afford to hold back and was required to use every single technique he had in his disposal; both old and new ones at the time.
When he found himself stuck in this world, however, he could not afford to even use the most basic of his techniques without feeling totally drained and exhausted. The ritual that Kischur did to better stabilize his condition using the mysteries of Bounded Fields and brand of Magecraft that fell under the category of Flowing and Transferring of Power.
The sound of footsteps making their gentle way over to his veranda did not go unnoticed by him. He turned his head to see Arcueid who had changed into a more comfortable form of clothing consisting of her sleepwear; a set of pajamas that would not look out of place on someone younger.
"What?" asked the White Princess, feeling the way Naruto was staring at her rather strange.
"...nothing." He should be used to this. He'd known her for a long time, after all. Maybe being old was making him more prone to being distracted by the most minor of things.
"It's good isn't it?" She asked as she did a little spin on the balls of her feet, mimicking a figure skater on an ice ring.
"It is," admitted Naruto, allowing himself a small smile, "it's just… you know what, nothing."
"Eeeeh? Now you got me all curious! Tell me!"
"No. Goodnight, Arc."
"Goodnight my ass! We don't need to sleep, Naruto!"
At the same time the two friends engage in friendly banter, Caster was done with her preparations.
"Please step into the circle, Master."
Although she called him master, it was only out of politeness and consideration of their unconventional contract. He would supply her with Mana via blood or transference, but they both lack that Master-Servant bond. This would mean she would have to plan out every instance where and when she deemed it necessary to perform her magic.
This was, most likely, not on oversight on the man's part as it allowed him to closely monitor whatever it was she was going to use her Magecraft for. Still, what was about all that ink and brush ordeal anyway? Was that some form of Eastern style Geis binding contract? If so, then why didn't she feel any Magecraft when he made her sign it?
Now, she was inside a shoddy shed that would normally be an unthinkable place to make a workshop out of. But she prided herself in her tenacity and expertise of being able to improvise and adapt with whatever she had to work with.
She had worked with less in the past, believe it or not.
While quite spacious, the shed was a place riddled with clutter and a mismatched assortment of junk. She had cleared them out to make the space necessary to draw the magic circle for what she had planned.
She was also given plenty amount of magically charged jewels by her master, much to her surprise. He told her that she was free to utilize the gems for whatever purpose she deemed suitable, as long as it was completely necessary.
And, now, she was going to do exactly just that.
"Talk to me. Explain what you're about to do." Her master said as he took his place in the middle of the circle she had drawn on the floor.
She was fortunate enough to find that her master had some of the vital components to perform the ritual already at hand inside his shed. The chalk she used to make the circle itself was conveniently found here, and the silver shavings and metallic component that she needed was also easily procured from several sheets of circuit board she found lying around.
All that's left was for her to start and begin the process in and of itself.
"I am going to do something called an Origin Reinforcement ritual." Caster saw the look of apprehension forming on the man's face, causing her to clarify, "it's normally a method used by Magi to enhance their focus of their Origin, thus allowing them to better utilize their specialized craft."
"What makes you think this will help me?" asked the blond.
Caster thought it was reasonable to ask. She tapped the bottom end of her staff on the ground, causing a gust of wind to rise from the bottom, and the drawn out circle to glow white.
"The circle has the purpose of isolating ambient Mana in the air from inside the circle, it will allow me to input the exact amount of Prana I want and need."
She then raised a gloved hand in the air, her pointer finger raised to trace imaginary lines in the air and causing purplish-blue lines to appear as a result.
"The ritual itself is harmless. I've come to the conclusion that should we be able to reinforce your Origin, it would be possible for you to perform your own mysteries without much resistance from the World," she said, the runes she traced in the air began levitating towards Naruto at the same time, "it's not quite 'denying' Gaia's denial of you, but more of a leeway when it comes to using your abilities in a day to day manner."
Naruto, throughout the entire time Medea was talking, felt something gnawing at the precipice of his soul. It was akin to being tickled, not quite hurtful, but more of an uncomfortable sensation nipping away at his strength. He felt drowsy and tired, but managed to keep himself afoot.
"I apologize for the discomfort, master," Caster apologized, her voice soft even amidst the turbulence, "but please bear with it. We're almost done."
And so he chose to trust in Caster's words. He closed his eyes as the feeling of being tickled intensified. He could feel nothing wrong with him, aside from the sensation he was feeling, so there was nothing he should be worried about; at least not now.
"There. It is done."
The mysterious draft of wind died down, followed by the receding feeling of discomfort he felt. Opening his eyes, he blinked his vision away, refocusing his sight back to its normal state. Caster's visage greeted him, her hood raised to cover a face that he had previously seen before.
"I don't feel any different." Correction. He felt normal, something that he had not felt for a very long time.
"Please, try flaring your Prana." Caster paused. "Or whatever equivalent form of energy you possess."
Naruto nodded and began doing as Caster suggested. He let his Chakra flare, causing a small shock-wave of energy bursting out from his person. He was surprised at how easily he was able to project his Chakra and began to note the difference when compared to his attempts before.
Then, he felt a tug. A tug from the innermost section of his soul.
'Wha…' was all he could think off before everything went white for him.
Caster watched as Prana literally exploded out from the man before her. It was akin to witnessing a Skill from a Heroic Spirit, yet here it was demonstrated by a living and breathing person. She watched as the air around her master began shimmering, turning into a translucent blue color as wisps of discernible energy danced and spun around him.
The display was impressive. It showed that her master had a lot of Magical Energy at his disposa—
Wait.
Wait.
Wait wait wait wait!
"W-What is…?!" Caster took a wary step back, feeling overwhelmed by what was in front of her. She was like a baker who had accidentally heat up his hearth more than what was necessary. She began to worry.
Her master was radiating Magical Energy to the point where it was outputting more energy than the ambient Mana in the air. A Magic Core, perhaps? It was the only decent conclusion she could come up with at the moment.
Then, he surprised her again, when he burned gold. She was forced to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness. When she felt she could safely lower her hands, Caster was in awe at what she saw.
Golden, heat-less, flames burst around the man's forms like a protective shroud cloaking him in power. She could feel the power being projected stabilizing, now more akin to a controlled release rather than a full-blown burst. She no longer felt overwhelmed, but rather at ease. She could still feel the power radiating from him, but it was no longer suffocating like before.
There was a floating ring of darkness on the top of his head, jagged and thorny in appearance and giving off the impression of a halo/crown hybrid. Two ivory-colored horns jutted out from his forehead pointing towards the sky, not unlike a beast of old.
There were eight spherical orbs orbiting him on his back, suspended in the air and following even the slightest move he made. They were as black as the night, perhaps even more. Their existence unnerved her for reasons she could not explain, almost as if her very senses were screaming at her to not go anywhere near them.
The jingles of metal caught her attention. It came from her master, or rather, the staff that he was holding on to. It was tall and thin, much like her own, but different in appearance. It was topped with metal rings that would jingle and clink when moved.
All in all, he looked like a whole different person now.
"Master…" Caster began, her hand unknowingly tightened the grip around her staff, "how are you feeling?"
Her master's eyes open to show her those mismatched eyes of his. The edge of his lips tugged to form a smile, a smile that Caster could say did not look out of place on his face.
"I feel great."
Somehow, from the way he said it alone, Caster believed him.
A/N: A bit late because I had to undergo a very minor surgery. Hospital bills suck, thank god for health insurance.
Anyway, let me get one thing clear: Nasu's a great world-builder. Some might even argue he's too good at it. It's hard to spin a yarn when the spool's already filled, to begin with, so I don't need any of you to give me shite for things not making sense.
I dare you to go to the Type-Moon wiki right now and tell me what the feck Denial of Nothingness really is without having to rely on speculation and what-ifs. I, will, however, accept criticism in regards to my writing and whatever pre-established canon facts that I've carelessly overlooked.
Anyway, that's all I have to say. Next chapter will begin with the story proper and none of this prologue bull.
Stay safe.
P.S: Amber is best girl, nuff said.