Chapter One: Rebirth in Purgatory
Ephemeral mists swirled about the formless void of purgatory, a somber dominion betwixt life and beyond. Constrained within this nebulous limbo dwelled a soul whose legacy was fraught with the unbearable weight of sacrifice—a sentinel bereft of flesh and bone, now a silent watchman of the afterlife.
The once brown-haired, brown-eyed, tall, and slender form of the artificial superhuman supersolider known as Kanzaki Shinji floated, formless yet conscious, in the ghostly expanse, the vestiges of his tumultuous existence on Earth resonating as echoes of distant battle cries and the whispers of salvation.
The streets of Tokyo, now but a memory of valor, had borne witness to his final act—thwarting a ravenous horde of Players with the dregs of his mortal strength. The Players—grotesque aberrations birthed in the bowels of the Amagi Zaibatsu's insidious ambitions—had fallen, yet not before they claimed their vanquisher.
Amidst the silence, Kanzaki pondered. His thoughts adrift like cosmic dust, he mused, "Is this the unquestionable terminus? A warrior's requiem unfurling within the purgatorial mists?" His sentience anchored to naught but the eternal resonance of duty and the inextinguishable flame of unfulfilled purpose.
Yet destiny had not yet relinquished its grasp upon his spectral essence. Across the vast parallels of existence, in the ruins of what was once the empire of liberty, now just a collection of hidden faux ninja villages, warlords and bandits, another scene was transpiring: a dire narrative told in a hushed, fervent endearment.
Beneath the moon's ethereal glow over Konohagakure no Sato, the ninja villages hidden in the leaves of the former Stars and Stripes' West Coast, Namikaze Minato, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, tall and lean Yondame Hokage, summoned the will to address the unearthly force now shackled within his infant son, Naruto who shared his blonde haired and blue eyes. Clad in the regalia of his station, his voice trembled with solemnity as he whispered an invocation to the orange-furred, red-eyed Kyūbi no Bakegitsune now nestled in the newborn's soul.
"Great spirit of the nine tails, hear me," Minato beseeched, his words entwining themselves into the very fabric of chakra-infused reality. "I bind thee to my flesh and blood, that his life may be the crucible of hope."
The Kyūbi, its vast, incandescent consciousness laced with primordial vigor and worldly disdain, replied through the infant vessel. "You dare harness my might, mortal?" it boomed within the confines of its new confinement. "Know that my power is a tempest unrestrained, churning within this fledgling host."
Yet, as Minato and the Kyūbi forged their pact through esoteric seals, another intertwined with them—Kanzaki's soul, a ghost within the machinations of celestial gears, drawn toward the Jinchūriki's burgeoning flux of energy.
Awareness flooded back to Kanzaki as he felt the spectral chain tethering him to the corporeal realm strengthen. "What trickery of the fates entwines me to this boy? What cruel jest doth beckon me to cling to life's vibrant thrum once more?"
"I wage this gambit, not for cruel jest, but survival," murmured Minato, unaware his words echoed across the threshold into purgatory. "Forgive me, my son, for dressing you in chains of greatness, heavy with the crimson hue of sacrifice."
From the penumbra of the afterlife, a conversation unwitnessed by mortal senses unfolded—Minato with his son, the Kyūbi with its ordained destiny, and Kanzaki with the ephemeral strands of a life once lived and now passing from the earthly fold.
Kanzaki's stoic resolve materialized into ethereal dialogue, words uttered into the void. "If the fates so decree, I shall rise once more. This soul conscripted into duty's embrace shall not flounder in the face of existential reprise."
With the solemn rite concluded, Minato relinquished his life essence, and the Shinigami, a harbinger of eternal equilibrium, laid claim to his spirit. The ritual's weave knit closer the destinies of Kanzaki, Naruto, and the Kyūbi—three souls ensnared in the loom of an unwritten saga.
"Sleep now, young Naruto, within your cradle of chakra and spirit," intoned the Kyūbi sardonically. "Bear the burden of god and ghost, for your path stretches beyond the umbral veil, into a world awaiting its reluctant hero's dawn."
And thus, the chapter closed upon one hero's end whilst an infant's tale of valor timidly began—this juxtaposition of life and afterlife, of sacrifice and responsibility etched into the annals of a world unwitting of the cosmic dance that wove its tenuous threads through the loom of fate.
[Many Years Later]
Dusk settled upon the village of Konohagakure no Sato like a leaden cloak, punctuated by the rhythmic chugging and wheezing of steam engines and the acrid tang of diesel fuel hanging in the air. This era of clockwork and steam, nestling in the heart of a replication of Japan's Warring States period borne out of the ruins of nuclear fire, bore the scars of a world reborn through fire and iron—a microcosm blending Edo's measured cadence with the raw urgency of apocalyptic survival.
In the orphanage's dusty library, amid tomes of folklore and faded historical epics, Naruto—no longer just a boy, but host to Kanzaki's battle-hardened cognizance—pored over the pages with calculated intent. His vibrant cerulean eyes, once denoting naivety, now scrutinized the lines with the discernment of a veteran operative parsing intelligence reports.
His fingers, smudged with ink and grime, flipped through the books with meticulous focus, scouring for fragments of veracity entombed within fables.
The young child, viewed by the matrons as a studious beacon of potential, remained ignorant to the enfleshed enigma among them. For beneath the facade of youthful exuberance, Naruto-Kanzaki grappled with the vast strangeness of the gears that turned the world around him.
Shadows crept along the orphanage's timeworn walls, a testament to the seamless blend of urban sprawl and feudal architecture characteristic of this dystopian era. The metropolis beyond was a tapestry of suburban tranquility pierced by the erratic pulse of neon signs, where samurais on mechanized steeds navigated cobbled streets alight with the glow of gas lamps, and shinobi melded ancient jutsu with the nascent whispers of cybernetic enhancements.
The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, a stark contrast to the silent contemplation of the previous night. Naruto, embodying the persona of a mischievous prankster, was at the heart of the commotion, his antics drawing reprimands and laughter in equal measure.
Orphanage Staff Member: "Naruto! Get down from there this instant! How many times must I tell you?"
Naruto (Jin): (grinning widely, an impish gleam in his eye) "Ah, but life's too short to waste on being well-behaved! You should try having some fun once in a while!"
His laughter was infectious, prompting even the sternest of faces to crack a smile. Yet, beneath the guise of the village's most notorious prankster, Jin's mind was constantly at work, piecing together the puzzle of his existence, his dual identity granting him a perspective unique to him alone.
Kanzaki's mind, beneath the facade of a delighted orphan, processed the disparity of this world—a clockpunk vision starkly juxtaposed against his memories of urban squalor and monstrous adversaries from a life now extinguished.
Having gleaned what he could from the orphanage's literary patchwork, he wrapped himself in the woolen anonymity of a commoner's attire and set forth into the village's cobwebbed alleys. Here, the pervasive hiss of steam and the thrum of generators coalesced into an ambient symphony, a soundtrack to the espionage that now consumed his every breath.
His traversal was a sly ballet through the labyrinthine byways, where rust-coated pipes and the clang of hammer on anvil spoke of a society rebuilding from the ashes of its own tumultuous history. Kanzaki registered every detail—the clandestine exchange between two indistinct figures in the alley's half-light, the subtle hand signals exchanged by the village watch, and the undercurrent of unrest that pulsed like a dormant volcano beneath the town's daily machinations.
An establishment styled as a tea house served as his first port of call, but the espionage that unfolded within was not confined to mere rumor-mongering. Sipping a piping infusion of green tea, Kanzaki listened intently to hushed dialogues that crisscrossed the room like invisible shuriken, carrying tidbits of military movements, geopolitical shifts, and the murmurs of dissent shaping the world beyond Konoha's walls.
The era—splintered by the scramble of warlord factions to control swathes of diesel-stained territories—teemed with the frenetic energy of alliances forged and severed in the same gasp.
Konohagakure, once an insular community of shinobi, now bore the trappings of a burgeoning metropolis, straddling the delicate line between isolationist dogma and the necessity for modern armament amidst a globe fracturing under the weight of its own technological ascension.
Naruto-Kanzaki felt the ghost of a grin tug at his lips, a relic response from his previous life, as the realization dawned that this world was ripe for the taking, a chessboard laid bare before a grandmaster of subterfuge.
He swallowed the last of his tea and vanished into the street's thickening gloom, an apparition in pursuit of a truth that danced ever just beyond reach, enveloped in steampunk shadows and the mechanical heartbeat of a world reborn anew.
Jin (muttering to himself): "This place… It's like a jigsaw puzzle put together by a drunk fool. Computers from the '90s next to carts pulled by oxen. And these people, worshipping a monk as if he were their savior…"
He paused, leaning against the wall as a group of ninja pass by, their conversation a whisper on the wind.
Ninja #1 (hushed): "Did you hear about the latest prank by that idiot Naruto?"
Ninja #2 (snickering): "Yeah, painted the Hokage faces again. The kid's got guts, I'll give him that. But brains? Not so much."
Jin's expression darkens momentarily before he shakes it off, continuing on his path.
Jin (thinking): "Let them laugh. It only makes my job easier."
Emerging into a deserted courtyard, Jin sits down, his back against a cold stone. He closes his eyes, focusing.
—
Flashback Sequence:
Tokyo-3, the gleaming neon lights reflecting off Jin's determined face as he battles an invisible enemy, being none other than one of the Players from his past. This contrast of high technology and desperate combat starkly different yet eerily similar to his current predicament.
Jin (flashback): "I never asked for this… power. But if it's mine to wield, I'll use it to protect those who can't protect themselves."
—
Back to Present:
A rustle of movement snaps Jin back to reality. A small group of children, ragged and dirty, steal glances at him from around a corner. Jin softens, his stern exterior melting away as he waves them over.
Child #1: "Are you Naruto? The one who pranks everyone?"
Jin smiles, nodding. He then begins a series of small, harmless jutsu, much to the children's delight, a stark contrast to the combat scenes from his past life.
Jin: "Sometimes, we wear masks to protect ourselves, or to protect others. My mask is that of a fool, but underneath, I'm gathering the strength to face a threat far greater than this village understands."
The children listen, entranced, not fully understanding but feeling the weight of his words.
Child #2: "But why hide? Why not show everyone how strong you are?"
Jin: "Because, sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is to remain unseen… until the moment is right."
As night deepens, Jin stands, offering a final smile to the children before disappearing into the shadows once more.
Jin (to himself): "The Sage of Six Paths… a savior or something else? There's more to this world's history. And I will uncover it. For now, though, I need to grow stronger."
The scence then shifted towards Jin sitting on a rooftop, gazing out over the village, his expression pensive. Flashbacks of a different life flicker across the screen of his mind - Tokyo-3, Akemi, the camaraderie with Tōji and Hikari, and the intense battles as Ikari Shinji.
Jin's inner monologue: "This world… It's nothing like what I knew. Yet, there's something more, something these chakra wielders can't explain. The Sage of Six Paths… What is the truth behind their god?"
—
Suddenly, a shadowy figure emerges from the darkness - Uchiha Itachi, the tall, black haired, black eyed current heir of Konoha's Uchiha clan and currently a member of the elite ANBU observing Jin with an unreadable expression. His presence unnoticed by Jin.
Itachi: "So, this is the child who houses the Nine-Tails… and something more."
—
Back to Jin, unaware of Itachi's watchful eyes. He flips open a salvaged 90s-style laptop, juxtaposed against the ancient pagoda beside him. Using techniques remembered from a lost era, he begins hacking into the village's scant digital archives.
Jin: "If there's any truth to be found about this world, it'll be hidden here. Second Impact, the Sage… They're connected. I can feel it."
—
Cut to a flashback of Jin's previous battles in Tokyo-3, drawing parallels between the Angels and the mythical Sage's adversaries. The sense of déjà vu is palpable as Jin pieces together myth and history.
Jin's inner monologue: "The cataclysm that birthed chakra… Was it so different from the Angels' assault? And what role did the Sage truly play?"
—
As Jin delves deeper, a brief confrontation occurs in an alley below - a group of bullies targeting a younger child. Without hesitation, Jin intervenes, using minimal but effective jutsu to disperse the aggressors.
Jin: "Even here, in the midst of chaos, the spark of humanity remains. But for how long?"
—
The camera pans up to Itachi, now atop a neighboring building, a subtle nod of respect towards Jin. His duty as ANBU necessitates surveillance, but there's a growing curiosity about Jin's true nature.
Itachi (whispering to himself): "Fascinating… Brother of my blood, yet kin of spirit. What destiny awaits you, Naruto-kun?"
—
As night deepens, Jin returns to his rooftop perch, looking out towards the Hokage Monument, his resolve firming.
Jin: "This isn't just about survival or returning to my own world anymore. There's a bigger picture here - the legacy of the Sage, the origins of chakra… I'm a part of this story now. And I will uncover the truth."
He swung his legs, the fabric of Naruto's orange jumpsuit rustling with the motion. For a moment, the weight of his situation settled on his shoulders, a reminder of the dual life he led — a hidden strength beneath the facade of the village idiot.
Below, the village continued its nightly rituals, unaware of the stirrings of a storm in their midst. As Jin formulated a plan to peel back the layers of history entwining this world and his, a voice broke the silence.
Itachi: "You seem troubled, Naruto."
Jin stiffened, not having noticed Itachi's approach. He turned, meeting the Sharingan with a guarded look, the weight of untold stories heavy in his gaze.
Jin (as Naruto): "Oh, Itachi-san! Just thinking about, uh, ramen! Yeah, so hungry I could eat a horse!"
The lie was clumsy, transparent to Itachi's seasoned eyes. Yet, he chose to play along, understanding the necessity of masks in their world of shadows.
Itachi: "Is that so? Well, remember, strength isn't always shown by how much you can lift or how fast you can run. Sometimes, it's in the quiet moments, in the planning and strategizing for what's to come."
Jin eyed Itachi curiously, sensing the subtext. Was it merely advice, or did Itachi know more than he let on?
Jin (as Naruto): "Heh, thanks, Itachi-san. I'll… remember that."
As Itachi vanished into the night, leaving Jin to his thoughts, the truth of Itachi's words resonated within him. Strength, planning, the future — elements Jin knew all too well. With a renewed resolve, Jin turned his gaze once again to the stone faces of the Hokage.
Jin (thinking): The Sage of Six Paths, the pre-chakra world, the truth behind this era… I will uncover it all. For the sake of both my worlds, I must.
With that silent vow hanging in the twilight air, Jin leapt from the rooftop, blending into the village's heartbeat, a shadow among shadows, on a mission to discover his purpose in this strange, new yet ancient world.
—
Some time later...
[Hokage Office]
[Hokage Tower]
[Konohagakure no Sato, Fire Country]
[Former West Coast of the now dissolved USA, North America]
In the dim light of the Hokage's office, the shadows seemed deep and full of secrets, whispering of a past too rich and complex for any one soul to fully comprehend. Sarutobi Hiruzen, the venerable God of Shinobi, sat behind a sprawling desk cluttered with scrolls and reports, his seasoned eyes glancing over the latest piece of intelligence. The room was filled with a heavy air of anticipation, like the calm before a storm.
The door slid open with a soft creak, and two figures stepped in, their presence signifying the dramatic shifts happening beyond Konoha's walls. Hiruzen looked up, his gaze settling on Kakashi and Itachi, whose return signaled urgent news, their faces taut with the weight of their discovery.
A storm seemed to gather within the Hokage's office, shadows clinging tighter around the corners as Sarutobi Hiruzen leaned forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. Itachi and Kakashi, both standing tall and grim, had just laid a heavy burden upon his desk.
"Itachi, Kakashi," Hiruzen began, his voice a calm amidst the brewing storm of implications, "are you certain of what you've seen? The Enclave…and Skynet's creations, here, near Konoha?"
Itachi nodded, his Sharingan briefly flaring, a ghostly echo of battles past. "Yes, Hokage-sama. We observed them from a distance. The technology…it's unlike anything we've encountered. They've established a significant base."
Kakashi, ever the observer, adjusted his hitai-ate, unveiling his own Sharingan to echo the truth of their words. "It appears they're not just passing through. They raised their flag, claiming the territory as part of the 'Restored United States.'"
Hiruzen exhaled softly, his mind racing toward the strategic implications. "This could shift the power balance dramatically. Danzo…he cannot know of this yet. It would be…inadvisable for him to exploit this situation. The Enclave, united with Skynet's machinations… It's as if the past is catching up with us, ready to demand its due."
"Danzo-sensei has always sought greater strength for Konoha, but this could provoke a war we are not prepared for," Itachi added, his voice a quiet warning.
There was a silent moment where the weight of leadership settled more heavily on Hiruzen's shoulders. "We must navigate these turbulent waters with care. Kakashi, Itachi, gather more intelligence. We need to understand their intentions and capabilities."
As they acknowledged his command and turned to leave, Hiruzen's gaze shifted to a photograph on his desk, a younger version of himself alongside Danzo, their smiles unburdened by the shadows of power and consequence. "The world outside… it's changed beyond our wildest imaginings," he murmured to himself, pondering the madness of the shinobi life mingled with the chaos of this new world.
Meanwhile, Jin, living a double life within the body of young Naruto, found solace in the simplicity of cooking, his mind wandering back to moments of relative peace amidst chaos. The smells of grilled Wagyu beef and Yakitori skewers filled the modest room he called home, a stark contrast to the tumultuous world outside. The flavors brought back memories of Misato, Asuka, and the strange kinship that formed under the most bizarre circumstances.
"Those were simpler times, in a way," Jin mused to himself, flipping a skewer. "But perhaps, here and now, there's a chance to forge something new… something better."
In another place and time, Rei, with her own unique awareness, planned a reunion, her soft smile a silent oath in the face of an uncertain world.
She had her own battles, her own secrets, but the thought of reuniting with her resilient, troublemaking 'brother' offered her a flicker of warmth in a cold, fragmented world.
"I'll find you, Jin," she whispered to herself, the soft smile on her lips a rare glimpse into her inner world. "No matter what future we face, we'll face it together."
—