A/N: EDIT: hardly any feedback for this chapter it seems, and here I thought folks would enjoy a weekly update what with this being updated twice in a row... was I wrong? T_T
Back at it again~!
Dark helped immeasurably with this.
This cough is driving me crazy more than a month later! Chest x-rays may be needed.
Every review truly does help, large or small, anything is better than nothing at all.
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I know its weak of me to ask, but it truly does lift my spirits...
Just wanted to say, I appreciate you all! More feedback means faster updates! It's especially important, in these, trying times, with the main site notifications down. Every word counts and i appreciate you all! All these reviews really keep me inspired! Looking forward to hearing from you~!
As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than little 'ol me.
I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.
Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story. Simple as that.
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SPOILERS FOR SHADOWS OF THE ERDTREE AHEAD!
"Look to the sky and see what she has wrought!
Let frenzy take the world!
Let frenzy! TAKE!
THE WORLD!"
~?
Madness
The moon turned red.
No, it did not turn.
It bled.
A slow, seeping crimson spilled across its surface, as though the heavens themselves had been stabbed. It pulsed—an arrhythmic throb in the sky—hungry, wounded, alive. Not a celestial body, but a sentient thing, writhing in pain too ancient for language. The air shifted. Something cracked in the deep places of the world.
Then the scream came.
It wasn't a cry of pain. Not a call for help.
It was laughter—raw, grating, layered with whispers. The sound of unraveling minds.
The people of Leyndell heard it. Thousands stood crammed in the arena of the Royal Plaza, their heads snapping skyward in perfect, unnatural unison. Pupils dilated. Smiles split faces like open wounds. Some wept. Others giggled. A few threw themselves to the ground, gnashing their teeth into the stone, chewing their own tongues as the Frenzy took hold.
The madness spread like wildfire through the crowd—no, not wildfire. Fungus. Creeping. Infectious. Rooted in something deeper than nerves or blood. A thought. An idea. A presence.
But none of it reached Naruto.
He stood alone in the eye of the storm—untouched, unmoved.
Not because he was immune.
Because he had already seen worse.
He had already become worse.
His gaze was fixed on the one thing that didn't belong.
Flora. The Moon Presence.
She hovered above the desecrated arena, not in the sky but in space itself. A ripple in reality. A tear stitched closed by lies and fear, now unzipping itself before mortal eyes. Her body twisted like oil on water, black against black, and yet seen—a contradiction that clawed at the edges of perception. A thousand arms extended and retracted in perpetual motion. Some ended in bone-white talons. Others in smoke. Others whispered secrets he refused to hear.
Her face was no longer a face. Only a void. A perfect, gaping hole in the shape of grief.
"Do you see now?" her very voice echoed with eternity itself. "This is your final test. Do you have what it takes to pass?"
"Tests? No. Kurama…" Naruto whispered, his voice quiet but heavy, golden light pulsing beneath his skin like veins filled with lightning. "I'm done playing."
Flora inhaled-but he didn't give her the chance to speak.
There was a flicker—an implosion of light and sound like a collapsing star.
She simply vanished.
Not through speed, but through the breaking of reality.
Naruto's senses screamed.
He dropped low as space shivered behind him. A claw swept overhead, tearing the air, cleaving through Leyndell's northern wall. The wall groaned—and fell, a monument shattered like parchment in a storm.
He twisted, hands blurring into motion, chakra roaring like a summoned hurricane.
"Rasenshuriken!"
The jutsu burst to life in his hand, a spinning vortex of wind and death. Blue, gold, and something deeper—chakra so dense it hummed like a living thing. The Rasenshuriken cast shadows in every direction, a second sun blooming in the madness.
But it found no target.
Flora -No! The Moon Presence!- was gone again.
No footsteps. No breath. Just the flicker of a dying candle.
Boom.
The Rasenshuriken struck a tower. Not a direct hit—but close enough. The explosion rolled through the air, flattening stone, ripping shingles from distant roofs. The sky quivered. Thunder without lightning.
In the distance, cheers twisted into shrieks.
Mothers clutched their children.
Warriors clawed at their helmets.
Eyes bled as tongues swelled.
Souls cracked under pressure they couldn't name.
The Frenzy fed on thought—devouring rationality, consuming identity. It didn't kill. It converted.
And still, Naruto did not flinch.
He felt the heat of Kurama at his back, silent but present. The fox was watching, but not interfering. That alone spoke volumes. This fight wasn't about overwhelming power. This was about dominion—whose will would shape the battlefield.
Naruto exhaled, eyes narrowing.
"You're not just a god," he said to the Moon Presence. "You're an infection."
Laughter bubbled up in her. "You know what they say. Madness is catching."
"And are you?"
Flora didn't respond. She didn't need to. Its existence was answer enough.
And yet…
Naruto smiled.
A slow, grim thing. Like a man who'd seen the abyss—and decided to make it his throne.
The madness brushed against the edge of Naruto's soul like frost creeping across glass—subtle, then sudden, then everywhere.
A thousand voices—no, a single voice fracturing into a thousand lies—whispered in his ear.
Some begged.
Some cursed.
All spoke with the same intent:
You are not real.
You are not the son.
You were never meant to BE.
Naruto flinched. For a heartbeat, the words found root. Doubt always did. It wasn't weakness—it was memory. Of the boy he'd been. The orphan chasing acknowledgment. The jinchūriki rejected by the world. But he had learned something long ago: identity was not granted.
It was claimed.
He clenched his teeth. "No," he growled, twisting mid-air to meet the descending horror. His fist ignited—golden chakra surging outward like a star reborn, forming around his arm in brilliant flame.
"I already decided," he whispered, more to himself than to it. "This world is mine to save!"
His punch landed.
Except it didn't.
The Moon Presence burst into black mist—shadows scattering like birds—and reformed instantly above him, body reassembling with the sound of cracking mirrors. Space rippled. Time slowed.
And in that breathless interval, the world stuttered.
A second Naruto stepped into existence beside him—same hair, same eyes, same cloak—but his chakra was wrong. Fractured. Tainted. Like a mirror forged from rotting glass.
The real Naruto narrowed his eyes. "That one's not me."
"Wrong," the doppelgänger rasped as Flora vanished. Its voice was a symphony of dissonance, every word spoken by countless throats in unison. "You are the echo. The parasite. The dream reborn."
Its hand melted, reshaping into a spear of writhing tendrils, each one whispering forgotten names in languages older than chakra. The thing lunged—fast, impossibly fast.
But Naruto's hand met the blow.
He caught it.
No backstep. No flinch. His arm held like forged iron, chakra hardening the air around him. His gaze didn't blink.
"Kurama."
The response came without hesitation. A rumble—not just from within, but from beneath, from the roots of his being.
"I'm here," the fox growled. "Let's show them what real gods look like."
They moved as one.
Chakra exploded outward—not wild, not erratic. Disciplined. It carved golden sigils in the air, threads of tailed beast energy winding around his form, weaving a cloak not of borrowed power, but of earned divinity.
Not the fox.
Not the beast.
Not the vessel.
The God of the Lands Between.
Naruto raised his hand to the heavens.
"Tailed Beast Sage Mode—Golden Avatar!"
The plaza shuddered. The very stone beneath his feet cracked and sank. Above him, chakra took form: not simply a beast, but a construct of belief. Nine tails—each one a river of molten gold—spiraled behind the titanic form of his avatar. Eyes of burning flame. Bones of hardened will.
It was the Erdtree made flesh. A wrathful Bodhisattva of flame and storm.
The golden colossus reached forward, its movement echoing Naruto's own. He grabbed the Moon Presence by the spine—its shadow-warped body squirming, screaming in languages unspoken since the first breath of creation.
Naruto descended with Flora and struck like a hammer.
He drove the abomination into the ground, unleashing the fury of a dying sun. The city didn't just quake—it fractured. Streets split open. Leyndell's golden towers trembled under the weight of divine judgment. The plaza became a crater. Buildings collapsed like dominoes.
Dust spiraled upward in plumes of gold and black.
And through it all, Naruto stood tall—cloaked in light, eyes burning not with hatred… but with certainty.
"Your whispers are weak," he said, voice cutting through the wind like a blade. "Your truth is hollow. I am no echo. I am no dream. I am the son of legends. The chosen of the flame. And I decide what is real."
The plaza shook. Not from the force of stone breaking, but from reality rejecting itself.
The Moon Presence screamed—a sound too vast for lungs, too old for time—as her true form began to unraveled. It didn't fall apart. It fragmented.
One became a hundred.
A hundred became him.
Shadow after shadow fell into being—each one a twisted mockery of Naruto's form. Some bore the whisker-marks and youthful grin of his younger self. Others had no faces at all, just pits where eyes should have been, mouths sewn shut with glowing threads of light.
Each figure pulsed with potential. With regret.
"They're all me?" he whispered, a sudden chill threading through his spine.
"Reflections," Kurama said, his voice grim. "What you could have been. What you were. What she thinks you might become."
Then the clones attacked.
They came like a flood—no rhythm, no formation, only chaos. They flickered in and out of solidity, memory stitched to nightmare, love warped into mockery. One laughed like Konohamaru. Another cried like Iruka. One even reached for him like a child, clutching a broken photograph of Team 7.
But Naruto did not step back.
He stepped forward.
Boom—Boom—BOOM!
Each step sent a ripple through the stone, chakra blazing in golden arcs with every impact. One clone surged in from the left—half-finished, eyes pleading—Naruto's fist took its head clean off. Another lunged low, blade-like bones extending from its arms—he ducked, spun, elbowed it into mist.
His voice thundered with each strike.
Not words for the world.
Words for himself.
"I'm not the puppet you want!"
CRACK!
"I'm not the dream you trapped!"
SMASH!
"I! AM! GODWYN!"
The name echoed, golden syllables etched with fire, and the clones flinched. Some broke apart mid-motion. Others screamed without mouths.
Naruto surged into a final spin, chakra condensing in his palm—a spiraling mass of wind and flame, threaded through with gold so bright it left trails in the air.
"Rasenshuriken—Celestial Bloom!"
He hurled it. The jutsu screamed across the battlefield, tearing through the last remnants of the reflection army. It struck the ground—and the world shattered. Stone buckled. Air warped. Light bled.
Silence fell.
Smoke coiled upward from the crater left behind. A soft breeze stirred the dust. Rubble rolled down broken columns.
From the ruins, something rose.
The Moon Presence—no longer formless.
No longer monstrous.
She looked… human once more.
No. Not just human. She looked like Naruto.
An older version. Worn. Scarred. Shoulders slumped with invisible weight. His hair was a tangled halo of gold and gray, eyes dulled by years of pain that had never found peace. There was something hollow in him. Something final.
"You cannot kill me," it said, voice flat. Dead. "I am what you become."
Naruto stared. The wind teased his cloak—its golden glow fading as his chakra slowly receded. His fists unclenched. His breathing calmed.
"I don't have to kill you," he whispered.
And stepped forward.
"I just have to end the lie."
He opened his arms.
Not for battle.
Not for a jutsu.
But in acceptance.
The Moon Presence shrieked—not in rage, but in terror. She lunged—fangs bared, claws outstretched, arms like scythes of despair.
And Naruto… didn't move.
"You're not my future," Naruto whispered, his voice breaking like dawn. "You're my fear. And I don't serve fear anymore."
He caught her in his arms and clamped down, holding her fast.
She hissed at him. "What do you think you're doing?!"
He stared down at her, unaffected. "I meant what I said. I'm done playing. No more games."
A flicker of fear passed through her visage. "But you have to play." her voice warbled for the first time since he'd met her. "You have to fight! If you don't-
His smile overshadowed her fear. "You won't exist."
"You wouldn't dare!"
His arms redoubled their grip around her as his body began to burn right. The Moon Presence howled as the light consumed her—no longer burning, but unraveling. As if existence itself had only just remembered that this thing did not belong. That it was an echo without origin. A parasite feeding on possibilities.
"Choose, Flora! Surrender or die!"
She began to fade like a dream forgotten upon waking.
With a single push of will, he burned away at her, sapping her strength.
Golden light erupted from his chest. Kurama roared alongside him, their chakra bursting in a spiral of divine fire. The Moon Presence -Flora!- shrieked as he immolated her. She tried to rip free. She lashed at him with her tentacles, bit down into his shoulder, rent at his ribs with his claws. For his part he held on tight, enduring her attacks as she weakened.
Not enough. Not nearly enough. Nowhere near enough for him.
Someone had to break. Him or her.
Eventually, one did.
"I...yield...!"
Flora fell to the dirt and crashed to the ground, shedding her true self as she went.
"You may have won the battle, but not the war." she turned a maddened grin towards the moon. "The test persists; this isn't over."
He frowned down at her, not quite comprehending the reason for her glee. "You've lost. The tournament is over. I've won."
Flora tilted her head, smiling madly. "You're missing the point."
For a single maddened moment, he feared she might try to blast herself to pieces and take him with her, but no.
The frenzy persisted.
It did not end in fire.
Not with a scream, or an explosion, or the flourish of a hero's final blow.
It ended in a sigh—a long, exhausted breath drawn by the world itself, as if some ancient, knotted muscle had finally released. Like a nightmare broken by morning.
Silence.
Then—
The sound of sobbing.
Naruto blinked. The gold around his skin flickered, dimmed. His heartbeat slowed, no longer driven by the rhythm of battle, but by something heavier.
He turned.
And saw chaos.
The people—his people, these people—were not cheering. They were not celebrating. They were not saved.
Nobles clawed at their jewelry-studded faces, tearing silk and skin alike. Priests sat curled against shattered statues, wailing verses to silent gods. A child screamed as her mother threw herself against a wall. Men bled from their eyes. Women convulsed on the cobblestones.
The Frenzy had not ended; it had only lost its mistress.
"Do you understand, now?" Flora laughed at his feet, coughing blood. "These people you cherish so...here they are, wasting away, their very souls at risks of being subsumed. Will you save them? Or will you waste time killing me, once and for all? You haven't the time to do both, Godwyn. You must choose."
"Tch…" Naruto staggered, a tremor shaking through his limbs. His breath caught like a blade in his throat. "Cheeky…"
He faltered, knees wobbling beneath the weight of so many lives.
Flora grinned up at him, merry in her madness. "Choose.
Even Kurama—ever the growling voice of pride—fell quiet. A silent presence within him, heavy as lead.
Too many.
Too broken.
Too late?
"Damn it…"
Naruto stepped forward. One foot, then another, dragging toward the edge of the plaza and the stands therein. His boots splashed in blood, in tears. Hands reached for him—begging, twitching, trembling.
He beheld bodies sprawled like driftwood on a beach.
Some were on the verge of tearing out their own throats.
Some clung to loved ones they'd just killed, whispering apologies through cracked lips.
Others pointed skyward, crying of eyes—eyes in the clouds, eyes in the wind, eyes inside their heads.
Eyes that would not close.
Naruto clenched his jaw.
This wasn't just battle anymore.
This was failure.
And so—he did the only thing left to him.
He raised his hand.
The wind died. The plaza stilled—if only for a breath—as golden light pooled around his fingers.
His voice, raw and ragged, tore through the stillness.
"I said… ENOUGH!"
A tidal wave of chakra burst outward—not an attack, but a prayer shouted with fire. Golden energy poured from him, racing across the stone, across the flesh, across the pain.
It swept through the plaza like a balm.
A warmth.
A memory of peace.
And for a moment—just a moment—the cries stopped.
Eyes blinked.
Breath returned.
The Frenzy recoiled.
But it didn't retreat.
It fought back; it was alive, it was free, and it did not wish to go quietly into that goodnight.
Like a parasite newly unchained, it surged again.
Screams reignited.
Minds cracked under pressure.
Blood resumed its slow, steady drip.
Naruto fell to one knee. Chakra flared around him, but flickered—like candlelight in a storm.
His fingers dug into the stone. He gritted his teeth. His soul screamed.
He had given everything.
And it wasn't enough.
Yet still—he stood.
His feet found purchase. His spine straightened. His chakra pulsed, deeper than technique, deeper than training. It came not from his body… but from his will.
From who he was.
He howled—not as a jinchūriki. Not as a savior. Not even as a god.
But as a boy who had learned the value of every soul.
"YOU WILL NOT HAVE THEM!"
He raised both arms, reached out with his will and wove it across the city like a fine net, stretching his might around the capital in motes of golden within fell limp as the light touched the; life returned, their tremors eased, their madness mollified. In a matter of moments, much of the city subsisted in silent slumber. Unsatisfied, he took ahold of their memories of the horror and made them into dreams, then made them forget said dreams altogether, little more than mania upon their waking.
Nor did he stop there; sweeping a hand outward he bathed the bloody viscera and gore away, banishing it with golden flame, cleansing the capital of the last lingering traces, rendering them so much steam. It cost him dearly, expending much of his strength, but for the people -for his loved ones- he was willing to risk anything, even his very life. His power would return in time. He wasn't afraid to risk that, not for them, not for his people.
But it wasn't enough; the plaza besides, he didn't have enough strength to save the entire city, not after the battle. He could feel himself faltering, fading, darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision...
"No," a familiar voice intoned. "I will not allow it."
Something -someone!- pressed into his back, bringing with them the faint scent of moonlight lilies.
"You really were prepared to throw away your life, weren't you? I never thought you'd risk your own existence for your minions. Rather than eradicate me, you chose to save what was yours." gentle laughter, dark and indulgent crooned in his ear. That is the true mark of a God.
Flora's warm arms encircled him from behind as she continued to crush herself wantonly against him.
"Very well." Pale lips graced his cheek as she snuggled her face against his, cooing softly as one might upon finding a priceless jewel. "You pass. A thousand times over, you pass. Every trial and tribulation I inflicted upon you, you've soared through with flying colors. I can't possibly let you go now, so...
Pallid arms rose beside his, fingers cupping his own, her every curve melding against him.
"...Allow me to assist you, my Godwyn, my Life, my Sun."
Power surged through him.
Let there be light.
A/N: The Tournament ends.
Congrats, me boy. You've won over a mad goddess.
So, what say you? Should this continue? Would you like weekly updates?
Feedback is imperative and essential to all things, especially the Elden Ring stories.
Just wanted to say, I appreciate you all! More feedback means faster updates! It's especially important, in these, trying times, with the main site notifications down. Every word counts and i appreciate you all! All these reviews really keep me inspired! Looking forward to hearing from you~!
As ever, reviews keep me alive. Without them, I cannot write. So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly? And here, have some previews I've been pecking away at.
As ever, a warning to one and all. Spoilers, spoilers, and SPOILERS~!
Previews remain mostly the same, don't want to spoil things.
(Previews)
Lansseax thumped Flora solidly over the head. "We nearly died!"
"Ooops?"
"Ooops?! I've half a mind to burn you...
x
Time for the Wish.
He could only pray that it worked.
If not...well, he'd have some explaining to do.
x
The ringleader laughed. "...did you really think I would be foolish enough to face you alone, Godwyn? I already told you. I brought friends. And you...you've made enemies."
Naruto exhaled slowly. Shrugged off his cloak. The navy garment fell to the ground, exposing his bare chest.
The Bolt of Granssax spat scarlet sparks in his grasp, eager for action.
Azure eyes shimmered into cold crimson.
"You should have brought more."
x
Clap.
They froze.
Clap. Claaap.
"No. How...?!"
Clap. Clap. Clap.
He stepped out of the shadows, still smiling, still clapping.
"You know what they say; what's dead may never die. Unfortunately for you, I've died before...
He should be dead.
Why?! Why wasn't he dead?!
...I know your kind. You never learn...unless you're made to learn."
As they looked on aghast, Godwyn dragged himself up onto one knee. A hand rose. Tore his bloody robe away.
"Very well." he exhaled slowly, a low burst of steam leaving his lips. They couldn't see his eyes, not with him hanging his head like that. "I've given thee courtesy enough...
His back glowed gold. Then a monster burst forth.
x
"Its over...What should I do now...they'll follow me...
Footsteps echoed, deep in the dark. "You'd be right about that."
They rounded with a yelp. Paused. Laughed now, when the saw the state of him.
"Look at you! Godwyn the golden! Wounded and bloody! What can you possibly do in that state?!" More laughter. "Ha! That's what you get for protecting others! Weakling!"
Low laughter filled the sewers. "If you actually believe those words, you're pitiful. Honestly, you deserve a hug. If my last life, I woulda given you one...
Their smile died an ugly death. "...what?"
"Its true I'm not in the best shape at the moment." The first of the demigods pushed himself upright, uncaring of his mangled arm. "I can't even feel my right side anymore. "However." He lifted his head and ran a bloody hand through his long hair. "Just because I'm a little weaker, doesn't make you stronger now, does it?"
He stepped forward. They flinched. He saw it. Grinned.
"Sorry. There's only one ways to proceed from here onwards." two steps now. "Cuddle up, tremble in fear...AND RUN."
"R-Run?"
"That's right. Run away. And never return." he paused. Considering. "Or you could try and kill me now. Who knows. You might even succeed...
x
Such a ritual would undoubtedly grand her the freedom she so sought...but it meant he would die.
Ranni shook her head furiously, red hair swaying side to side. "No, no, no! I can't...!"
x
Do you hate them?
How could he hate the twins? Miquella and Malenia were his half-siblings and still much too young to know their true loyalties. Not even three years old and the poor tykes had their own illnesses to grapple with...no, the answer was obvious.
"I don't hate anyone. I pity those weaker than me."
EDIT: Hey, you made it! Thanks for reading!
Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this story, and others. Meaning, if folks don't like this, it WILL remain onsite-but it won't be continued. I'm working two jobs with no end in sight and I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy.
So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
Looking forward to chatting with you all when I get back from work~!
R ~!