I don't own or co-own Naruto or High school DxD that rights belong to Ichiei Ishibumi, Miyama-Zero, Fujimi Shobo, And Masashi Kishimoto. Based upon Characters created by Ichiei Ishibumi, Miyama-Zero, Fujimi Shobo, And Masashi Kishimoto.

So stop bothering me!

Rated M - For Strong Language, Blood and Violence and other stuff.

"Talking"

"Thoughts"

[Jutsus, Techniques, and Spells]

"[Chapter 1: The Dimensional Gap]"

In the boundless abyss of a realm devoid of the conceptual constraints of time and space, where existence itself seemed to be a mere figment of a cosmic dream, there drifted a solitary figure, unmoving as if cast from a mold of unyielding stone.

This man's visage bore the marks of age and power, his hair a stark shade of white, contrasting sharply with the grayish cast that permeated his skin, lending it an ethereal quality.

Adorning his crown was an unusual adornment, a ribbon that seemingly danced around his head, from which protruded what appeared to be horns of a mystical nature.

His extremities, arms and legs, were shrouded in an enigmatic blackness, as if they were crafted from the very essence of shadow itself. Draped over his form was a tunic of inscrutable origin, its fabric appearing to be woven from the very fabric of Chakra.

Embedded in this tunic were a profusion of magatamas, each one a gleaming testament to the immense power that lay latent within him.

The garment's design was intricate, with a large magatama at the center of the chest, flanked by two lines that stretched to his sides, mirroring the pattern of the Rinnegan symbol emblazoned upon it. Additionally, there were an array of smaller magatamas adorning the sleeves and back of the tunic, a total of nine, each imbued with its own mysterious significance.

Within the vast, inky expanse of this timeless vacuum, the man known as Madara Uchiha stirred from a slumber that had consumed him for an eternity.

His eyes, once shuttered, snapped open, revealing the twin orbs of the Rinnegan, an ocular power that had once allowed him to perceive the very fabric of reality itself. But now, even they seemed to struggle against the oppressive dark that surrounded him.

The initial moments of his awakening were filled with a panic that echoed through the emptiness like a single drop of water in a cavernous silence. His breathing grew erratic as he attempted to grasp at the frayed threads of consciousness that had been torn from him by the relentless grip of slumber.

The pounding of his heart seemed to resonate through the void, a solitary beat in the symphony of his own disorientation.

Gradually, the tumult of his inner world began to still, the rhythmic pulsing of his heart and the flow of lifeblood through his veins providing a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

His thoughts grew clearer, the fog of forgetfulness slowly lifting from his mind. Yet, the darkness remained steadfast, unyielding in its dominion over his sight.

The silence that enveloped him was profound, a tranquility that seemed almost unearthly in its purity. Despite his lack of visual perception, the very absence of sound served as a balm to his racing thoughts.

But the serenity was tainted by an eerie sense of disquietude, a whispering question that gnawed at the edges of his sanity: "What happened?"

He searched the vast library of his memories, seeking answers to the enigma that had swallowed him whole. His mind felt as if it were a deserted battlefield, littered with the detritus of forgotten moments, a place where even the most resilient of recollections had been buried beneath the sands of oblivion.

It was as if the very essence of his being had been erased, leaving behind only the echo of a name that danced on the edge of his consciousness, a name that held the key to his identity: Madara. Madara Uchiha, the man who had once wielded the power of the Rinnegan, whose very presence had been the catalyst for wars and the shaping of nations.

But the void of his amnesia offered no solace, no insight into the circumstances that had brought him to this desolate plane. He felt as if he were adrift on an endless sea of doubt, a shipwrecked soul with no land in sight.

The Rinnegan, that mighty gift that had been bestowed upon him, had always allowed him to peer through the veils of darkness, to see beyond the boundaries of the conceivable.

Yet here, in this realm where sight was rendered futile, he was as blind as a mole in the depths of the earth.

The Rinnegan's power was legendary, granting the user the ability to peer into the fabric of the multiverse, to gaze upon the very threads of existence and manipulate them to their will.

The eyes of the Rinnegan had been the heralds of his power, allowing him to traverse dimensions and peer into the very essence of the souls that inhabited the mortal realm.

But here, in this realm of perpetual night, the eyes that had once pierced the shadows were as useful as a candle in a moonlit night.

Madara's thoughts grew frantic as he sought to understand the nature of his predicament, his mind racing like a wild steed with no rider to rein it in.

As he lay there, a solitary tear traced a path down his cheek, a silent testament to his despair. Yet, as the salty droplet fell away into the abyss, a spark of something akin to hope flared within his soul.

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, memories began to flood back into his mind, each one more painful than the last.

The recollections came in a torrent, a tumultuous river that swept away the dam of oblivion: his alliance with Hashirama Senju during the Warring States Period, the founding of the Hidden Leaf Village, the treachery that had led to his departure, the manipulation of events that had culminated in the Fourth Great Ninja War, the illusion of power and control that had been the Infinite Tsukuyomi, and the ultimate betrayal at the hands of Black Zetsu.

The truth hit him like a sledgehammer, shattering the last vestiges of his ignorance. He had been played like a pawn in a game of cosmic chess, his every move orchestrated by the very being he had sought to manipulate.

The realization that he had been the instrument of Kaguya Ōtsutsuki's will was a bitter pill to swallow, one that filled him with an anger that threatened to consume him.

The Infinite Tsukuyomi, his grand design to bring peace to the shinobi world, had been naught but a sham, a mask for Kaguya's own insidious intentions. He had been a fool, a tool in the hands of a being he had never truly understood.

But as the anger grew within him, so too did the pain. The memories of his struggles, his losses, his triumphs, and his ultimate defeat played out before his inner eye like a tragic tapestry. His once-indomitable spirit wavered, the weight of his failures pressing down upon him like the gravity of a dying star.

Yet, amidst the deluge of despair, something within him stirred. A memory, faint and distant, but growing stronger with each passing moment. It was the recollection of the ultimate sacrifice he had made to ensure that the world he had known, the world of Chakra, would live on.

He had absorbed the Chakra of all those trapped within the Infinite Tsukuyomi, including that of the children whose futures he had sought to secure. The power had been too much, a tempest that threatened to tear him apart at the very seams of his being.

But he had endured. He had absorbed it all, every iota of energy, and in doing so, had left the world of the living a barren wasteland. The Chakra that had once flowed like rivers through the lands of the shinobi had dried up, leaving behind a desolate landscape of normalcy.

And now, as he lay in this realm of shadow, he knew that he had to face the consequences of his actions. The world had moved on without him, and he was but a ghost of a time long past.

But the question remained: why had he sought such power? What force had driven him to the brink of madness in his quest for peace?

The answer eluded him, lost in the mists of his fragmented psyche. Yet, as he contemplated his existence, a strange feeling grew within him. It was as if something had been purged from his soul, a burden lifted that he had not even known was there.

He felt a shift in the very fabric of the realm around him, a subtle vibration that grew in intensity until it was a palpable force. Looking up, he saw that the crack that had once offered a glimmer of escape had reappeared, beckoning him forth like a beacon in the dark.

With newfound purpose, Madara pushed himself to his feet, his body moving with the grace of a man who had not felt the weight of gravity in an age. His Rinnegan pulsed with a power that seemed almost alien to him, as if it were a part of him that had been dormant, awaiting the moment of its rebirth.

He approached the fissure with caution, feeling the power that lay beyond it, the promise of a new world, a new beginning.

As he reached out to touch the shimmering barrier, he felt the presence of the Great Red Dragon, a creature of immense power that had been drawn to this place by the disturbance in the fabric of reality caused by his own presence.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" The dragon's voice boomed through the dimension, a challenge that seemed to resonate with the very air itself. Madara's gaze fell upon the creature, and for a brief instant, he felt the thrill of the hunt, the rush of adrenaline that came with the face of an adversary.

"Whoever I am, it is none of your concern," Madara replied with a cool detachment, his attention never wavering from the crack that was slowly closing before him.

The Great Red Dragon, a being whose very breath could shake the heavens, roared in indignation, his fiery breath lighting up the surrounding darkness. Yet, Madara remained unfazed, his focus solely on the escape that lay within his grasp.

As the dragon lunged forward to attack, Madara's hand shot up, a single seal formed by his fingers. He unleashed a torrent of power, a force that seemed to be drawn from the very essence of the dimension itself.

The energy clashed with the dragon's fiery onslaught, the two opposing forces canceling each other out in a display of raw might.

The dragon was taken aback, his eyes narrowing as he beheld the human before him. "Your power... it is not of this world," he murmured, his voice a thunderous rumble. Madara merely smirked in response, his eyes never leaving the crack that grew larger with each passing moment.

"And what of yours?" Madara countered, his voice filled with the confidence that had once made him a leader of men. "I am Madara Uchiha, the man who has seen the end of all things and lived to tell the tale."

The dragon's eyes widened in recognition, his roar of fury giving way to a stunned silence as he took in the sheer scale of the power before him. Madara's Rinnegan pulsed once more, the crack now wide enough for him to step through.

With a final, sadistic smile, Madara stepped through the portal, leaving the Great Red Dragon to ponder the ramifications of his encounter with the legendary shinobi.

The portal snapped shut behind him, leaving the dragon to contemplate the vast, unknowable power that had just walked away from his domain.

On the other side of the gateway, Madara found himself in a world untouched by the ravages of time and war, a place where his power was unbridled. He knew that he had been gone for aeons, that the world he had left behind was now a shadow of its former self, a place where Chakra had been eradicated.

But as he took in his new surroundings, a cold, calculating smile spread across his features. This was a world ripe for the taking, a place where his will could be made manifest without the interference of those pesky limitations that had once held him back.

The Great Red Dragon watched as Madara disappeared from the Dimensional Gap, his mind racing with the implications of what he had just witnessed. The creature had encountered many beings of immense power in his time, but none had ever walked away from his realm with such ease.

Madara had displayed a mastery over his own power that was truly terrifying, a mastery that spoke of a deep, untapped well of strength. As the dragon contemplated the events that had unfolded, one thing was clear: whoever faced Madara next would be in for a battle that would shake the very foundations of their world.

And as the echoes of their encounter faded away, the Great Red Dragon could not help but feel a twinge of fear. For in that brief moment, he had glimpsed the true nature of the human he had encountered, and it was a nature that could only be described in one word: unstoppable.

End of Chapter 1.

Rewrite time, baby!!