HAGOROMO ŌTSUTSUKI — THE PURE LANDS —
He watched, as he had watched for a millennium. From the silent, golden shores of the Pure Lands, Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki observed the living world through a lens of spirit and memory, a tapestry woven from chakra threads, fate, and the persistent, aching echoes of his own failures.
The scene unfolding in that distorted, blood-red dimension was the culmination of everything—and the negation of it all.
There stood the progenitor, his mother, Kaguya Ōtsutsuki. A being of terrible, silent majesty, her will embodied by the treacherous consciousness of Black Zetsu clinging to her shoulder like a malignant growth. Before her, scattered across floating archipelagos of rock, were the shinobi of the unified world, the "Storm Coalition." They were battered, disoriented, but unbroken. And before them, standing as the first and most formidable line, were the two who had made this unity possible.
Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha. The name was a paradox that thrilled and humbled Hagoromo's spirit. His son's name, borne by one who was and was not his son. A boy who had taken the legacy of power—the Sharingan that evolved into a unique, sovereign Rinnegan, the formidable chakra, the lineage of Indra's might—and had fused it with something utterly alien to the original's nature: compassion nurtured by love, ambition directed toward creation, and a rage tempered into unbreakable resolve to protect. He was a sovereign architect, his power not a sword raised for conquest, but a chisel and blueprint for a fortress-world. His eyes, those Rinnegan with their silently orbiting sigils of space, time, and distortion, saw the laws of reality as equations to be optimized, not mysteries to be dominated.
And beside him, her chakra harmonizing with his in a silent, perfect symphony, was Rias Uzumaki.
Hagoromo's spiritual breath hitched. When she had awakened the True Wood Release in the Gourmet World, a tremor had passed through the very fabric of the Pure Lands. It was not the violent, life-asserting power of his son Ashura, nor the cultivated, controlled might of Hashirama Senju. It was… a song. A melody of growth, protection, and nurturing will. It carried Ashura's essence—the connection to others, the belief in bonds—but refined, matured, and chosen. It was philosophy made manifest, not genetics.
And now, in this moment of ultimate crisis, he saw it. He saw Ashura's chakra, the very legacy of his younger son, not swirling around a boisterous, determined young man like Naruto, but resonating within the spirit of this young woman who stood as equal partner and beloved to the bearer of Indra's legacy.
The cycle was not just broken. It had been transcended. Synthesized.
A grief, ancient and profound, washed over Hagoromo, not for the impending battle, but for the past. He saw, as if superimposed over Indra and Rias, the ghosts of his own sons. Indra, his firstborn, so brilliant, so powerful, so desperate for his father's approval, turning cold and solitary when he felt it withheld. Ashura, the younger, whose strength came from others, who he had chosen as heir out of fear—fear of Indra's solitary power, fear of his own wife's tragic end repeating itself in a son who loved too deeply and lost. He had chosen the son who represented community, hoping it would prevent another Kaitō.
Instead, he had planted the seed of a millennium of hatred. By favoring one, he had broken the other. By fearing the power of the individual, he had doomed both to a dance of death across generations. Indra and Ashura, Madara and Hashirama… their conflict had stained history with blood, all stemming from his failure as a father, his flawed decision at a moment of grief.
His thoughts spiraled back to recent counsel. The ancient Toad Sage, Gamamaru, speaking in riddles of "storm beasts" and "the ghost of the elder son walking a new path." The Sage had said the old prophecy was muddied, its subjects unclear, because the players had changed the script.
Then, his spiritual visits to the primordial allies. Garuda, the Great Elder of the Eagle Clan, whose perception saw epochs as single moments. When Hagoromo had asked why they had allied with this young Indra, Garuda's psychic reply had been like a gust from the dawn of time: "He does not seek to ride the storm. He seeks to understand its eye, and in that understanding, build a house within it. He offers partnership, not subjugation. We remember the Ten-Tails' roar. We prefer the architect's silence."
And Airavat, the mountain-like Elder of the Elephant Clan, whose thoughts moved with the patience of continents. "Your sons, Sage, were two halves of a broken cup, each trying to hold water with their fragment. This one… he took the pieces and forged a new vessel. Stronger. Whole. He did not inherit the crack. He learned from its existence. We choose to stand with those who build, not those who break and mourn the breaking."
So this is what they meant, Hagoromo thought, the realization settling with the weight of a world. They did not choose him to fight a war. They chose him to end the conditions that create wars. Airavat and Garuda see not a weapon, but a cornerstone.
And Rias… Ashura's will recognizing her, not as a reincarnation, but as a kindred spirit. A bearer of his philosophy who had found its perfect complement in the heir of his brother's power. Love, not conflict, bridging the divide he himself had created.
The grief turned into a sharp, painful resolve. He had been an observer, a regretful ghost. No longer. The ultimate threat, his mother, was here. The new hope, the synthesis of his sons' best qualities, stood ready to fight. But they faced a being who had consumed the chakra fruit of a world, whose power was primordial and vast.
They had their earned strength, their sovereign will, their flawless partnership. But the foe was of a different order. A boost, a blessing… not to replace their power, but to bridge the gap in scale, to give their magnificent, hard-won sovereignty the key to affect a primordial entity.
And he knew, with a father's aching heart, what he should have done millennia ago. He should not have chosen one son over the other. He should have empowered both. Trusted them to find balance together. He had failed his children then.
He would not fail their legacy now.
The decision crystallized. He would offer his power. Not as a patriarch bestowing a gift, but as a grandfather offering a tool to protect the future his failures had almost destroyed. He would offer it to the synthesis first—to both Indra and Rias. If they refused… then the legacy would fall to the next in line, the purest current inheritors of his sons' chakra: Naruto and Sasuke. It was time to intervene.
THE EXPANDED TRUTH-SEEKING BALL DIMENSION — THE CENTRAL PLATFORM
The air was thick with silent pressure. Kaguya hovered, her Rinne-Sharingan gazing emptily, yet omnipotently, across the bizarre landscape. Black Zetsu smirked.
Black Zetsu: "Your science, your sovereignty… it is a quaint dance on the skin of a world Mother already owns. She is the beginning. Your end."
Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha: (Eyes calm, sigils orbiting slowly) "A beginning that was imprisoned suggests a flawed genesis. An end you anticipate is merely a problem you have not yet solved. Your data is outdated, Zetsu."
Rias Uzumaki: (Her green-gold eyes fixed on Kaguya, a faint harmonic hum in the air around her) "You speak of ownership. We speak of stewardship. You consume. We cultivate. Your silence is emptiness. Our song is a story. They are not the same."
Before Kaguya could move, the very fabric of the red-dimension wavered. Not from her power, but from an intrusion of a different, profound peace. Light, gentle and warm, coalesced between the two factions.
He appeared as he was in his prime, yet translucent, glowing with the gentle light of the afterlife. Long, white hair, the twin horns of the Ōtsutsuki, robes of simple elegance, and the profound, weary kindness of ages in his eyes. The Sage of Six Paths, Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki, materialized, his presence immediately lowering the hostile tension, replacing it with one of awe and reverence.
The scattered Alliance forces gasped. The Kage stared. Naruto and Sasuke, stranded on a distant rock, felt a pull, a familiarity that resonated in their very blood.
But Hagoromo's focus was entirely on the couple before him.
Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki: (Voice like a distant, gentle bell) "Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha. Rias Uzumaki. I have watched your journey from the twilight of my existence."
Indra's Rinnegan focused on him, analyzing, cataloging. Rias inclined her head slightly, her sensory perception reading not threat, but immense, sad, hopeful chakra.
Indra: "The Sage of Six Paths. Your observational data precedes you. Your timing is… notable."
Hagoromo: A faint, sad smile. "Forgive the intrusion at this precipice. I come not as a guide from the past, but as a witness to a future I dared not hope for. You have done what I could not. You have taken the two legacies of my failure—my sons' power and my sons' philosophy—and forged from them a unity stronger than the sum of their parts. You have broken the cycle not by defeating the other, but by becoming whole together."
He paused, the weight of centuries in his words. "The being you face is my mother, Kaguya. Her power is the raw, unrefined essence of this world's chakra. You have power born of understanding, will, and love. It is superior in every way that matters. But in sheer, primordial scale… there is a disparity."
He raised his hands. In his right palm, a symbol glowed to life: a sun, blazing with yang, the power of life, physical energy, and creation. In his left, a moon, cool with yin, the power of spirit, mental energy, and form.
Hagoromo: "This is my chakra. My power. Forged in the battle against her long ago. I offer it to you now. Not as a replacement for your own, but as a key. A bridge. The Yin and Yang seals will allow you to touch her existence, to seal her, not merely fight her. Rias Uzumaki, bearer of Ashura's will, the Sun Seal is yours. Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha, bearer of Indra's legacy and his name, the Moon Seal is yours. Together, you can end this."
The offer hung in the air, immense, historic. The entire dimension seemed to hold its breath. This was the Sage of Six Paths granting his blessing to the two most powerful shinobi on the field. It was the logical, storybook conclusion.
Indra looked at the glowing seals. He looked at Rias. Then he looked back at Hagoromo, and his eyes were not those of a recipient, but of a peer.
Indra: "I acknowledge the strategic utility of your power, Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki. The 'key' function is logically sound."
He turned fully to face the Sage, his posture straight, his voice carrying a quiet, absolute finality.
Indra: "But I refuse."
A ripple of shock, silent but palpable, went through every soul who perceived the exchange.
Indra: "My strength, every joule of chakra, every law of spacetime I command, every breakthrough in my laboratory, was earned. Studied. Understood. Built. It was given to me by no one but myself, my mother's love, my father's sacrifice, and my partner's belief. To accept your power now, even as a 'key,' would be to introduce a variable I did not calculate, a dependency I did not architect. It would be a borrowing. And I do not use borrowed power. My strength is my own. Ours is our own."
Rias stepped forward, her hand finding Indra's. Her voice was softer, but no less firm, harmonizing with his declaration.
Rias: "He is right. What we have, we built together. Our harmony, our song, it's born from our choices, our struggles, our love. To insert another's melody, no matter how grand its history, would change the song. We fight with what we are. Not with what we are given."
Hagoromo stared. The surprise on his translucent face was profound. Not offense, but a stunned, deepening respect. In their refusal, he saw the ultimate vindication of their path. They were not inheritors. They were originals. They did not seek the power of the past; they were the architects of the future. His offer, made from love and regret, was to them a step backward.
He closed his eyes for a moment, the glowing seals dimming slightly. When he opened them, there was a new light there—one of profound release.
Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki: "I… understand. Forgive an old man his patterns. You are not my sons. You are something new. And you are right. The future should not be locked with the keys of the past."
He turned his gaze, which now seemed to encompass the entire dimension. It settled on two specific chakra signatures, blazing with familiar resonance amidst the scattered forces.
Hagoromo: "The legacy of my chakra must still play its part. For after you, the next who carry the heaviest fragments of my sons' spirits… are they."
THE FLOATING ARCHIPELAGO — NARUTO AND SASUKE
Naruto and Sasuke had fought their way to a relatively stable, large rock, dealing with the bizarre gravity and sporadic attacks from the terrain itself. They felt Hagoromo's presence like a beacon. And now, they felt his attention focus on them.
Space folded gently. In a shimmer of light, Hagoromo, along with Indra and Rias who had moved with him via a effortless spatial step, appeared before them.
Naruto: "Whoa! The old guy from the stories… and Indra-nii, Rias-nee!"
Sasuke: (Eyes wide, Sharingan instinctively active) "The Sage…"
Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki: "Uzumaki Naruto. Uchiha Sasuke. Come. Sit with me. There is a story you must hear, and a choice you must make."
He gestured, and the rock smoothed into a level surface. He sat, cross-legged. After a glance at Indra, who gave a slight nod, Naruto and Sasuke sat opposite him. Indra and Rias stood slightly apart, sentinels and witnesses.
And Hagoromo spoke. He told them of a woman from the stars, Kaguya, who came to this world and consumed its chakra fruit, becoming a god-like being. He spoke of her tyranny, her White Zetsu army. He spoke of her two sons—himself and his brother, Hamura. He told them of their long battle to seal her, becoming the first wielders of chakra in its modern form.
Then, his voice grew heavier. He spoke of his own life, of his beloved wife, Kaitō, and her tragic death. He spoke of the two sons she left him: Indra, gifted with his eyes and powerful chakra, brilliant and lonely; and Ashura, initially weak but blessed with the power to connect with others, to draw strength from bonds.
Hagoromo: "I was lost in my grief. I saw Indra's power and feared it—feared the solitude, feared that such power, coupled with the potential for such love and subsequent loss, would break him as I was broken. In my fear, I chose Ashura as my successor, believing his way of connection would prevent further tragedy."
He looked at his hands, the ghosts of the seals flickering. "It was the greatest mistake of my existence. In choosing one, I rejected the other. I did not empower them both and trust them to find balance. I forced a dichotomy. Indra saw my choice as a rejection of his very being, of the power that was his birthright. He left, his heart hardening into hatred. He returned… and they fought. Their conflict did not end with their lives. Their chakra, their spirits, their narrative, reincarnated across generations. You know the names: Madara Uchiha and Hashirama Senju were their last great incarnations before now."
He looked at Naruto, then at Sasuke, with immense sorrow and affection. "And now, it rests with you two. After Indra and Rias, who have synthesized and transcended the cycle, you carry the heaviest concentrations of my sons' chakra. Naruto, you hold Ashura's will of bonds, his stubborn belief in others. Sasuke, you hold Indra's lineage, his eyes, his drive for power and recognition."
He raised his hands again. The Sun and Moon Seals glowed anew, brighter now, calling to the chakra within them.
Hagoromo: "The power I offered them, they refused. For their path is one of sovereign creation. Your path, while your own, still walks closer to the old road—one of inheriting a legacy to protect a world. You do not have to be bound by the curse of my sons' conflict. You can be the ones who use this legacy, not for hatred, but for the protection Indra and Rias have made possible. Will you accept my power? Will you take up the seals, and with them, the tools to seal away my mother and end this war?"
Naruto and Sasuke looked at each other. A thousand memories passed between them in that glance: their rivalry, their fights, their loneliness, their tentative friendship, their shared goal to get stronger. They remembered, vividly, watching the Jonin Exhibition match during the Chunin Exams. They remembered the awe, the feeling of a gap so vast it was almost beautiful. And they remembered the private vows they each made, separately but identically: I will stand beside them one day. I will fight at that level.
This was the chance. Not to be like them—their path was unique—but to stand with them. To be strong enough to share the burden of this ultimate fight.
Naruto: (A determined grin spreading on his face) "Old man… Sage… you bet I will! I'm not gonna let Indra-nii and Rias-nee have all the fun protecting everyone! I'll use your power to protect my friends, my village, everyone!"
Sasuke: (His gaze steady, looking from Hagoromo to Indra) "I spent years seeking power for revenge, for a twisted justice. Now… I seek power for protection. For justice of a different kind. To restore a name. To be a part of what they are building. I accept."
Hagoromo smiled, a true, relieved smile that seemed to lighten the very gloom of the blood-red dimension. "Good. Then receive the legacy of the Ōtsutsuki, and use it to safeguard the human world."
He placed his right hand, bearing the Sun Seal, on Naruto's chest. A wave of blazing, warm, immense chakra flooded into Naruto. His whisker marks thickened, his eyes shifted, blazing with yellow light, and the Sun Seal burned itself onto his palm. He felt a connection to all physical energy, to life itself, on a scale he'd never imagined.
Hagoromo placed his left hand, bearing the Moon Seal, on Sasuke's forehead. A cool, profound, spiritually vast power surged into Sasuke. His left eye, his Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, swirled and transformed. The tomoe melted away, replaced by the concentric circles and tomoe of the Rinnegan, glowing with a deep purple light. The Moon Seal etched itself onto his palm. He felt the fabric of perception expand, understanding spiritual energy, gravity, and attraction in a new way.
As the light faded, Naruto and Sasuke stood transformed. Naruto pulsed with vibrant, tangible life-force, a cloak of golden chakra flickering around him instinctively. Sasuke's new Rinnegan observed the world with cold, cosmic clarity, his chakra dense and potent.
They turned, as one, to look at Indra and Rias.
Naruto: "We're ready, Indra-nii! Rias-nee! Let's kick her butt together!"
Sasuke: (A faint, determined smirk) "The promise from the Chunin Exams… it's time to keep it."
Indra observed them, his analytical gaze sweeping over their new powers. He gave a single, slow nod of approval.
Indra: "Efficiency has increased by a factor of 8.7 for Naruto, 9.3 for Sasuke. The key functions are now active. The tactical matrix shifts."
Rias smiled warmly at them, her expression holding pride and a fierce protectiveness. "You've grown so much. Now, let's show this 'Mother' what her children's true legacy can do. Not as fragments, but as a family."
Hagoromo watched the four of them—the sovereign architects and the empowered heirs—stand together, facing the distant, hovering form of Kaguya. The grief for his sons was still there, a permanent scar on his soul. But as he saw Naruto's unwavering belief and Sasuke's hardened resolve standing alongside Indra's calculated might and Rias's harmonious will, he felt something else.
Hope. Not for a perfect peace, but for a world strong enough to fight for its own future, with all the tools of its messy, beautiful, earned history. He had finally, in a way, empowered both his sons. Not by choosing one, but by ensuring their legacies found worthy bearers who could fight side-by-side.
His form began to fade, his purpose fulfilled.
Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki: (Whispering to the void) "I should have done this with my own sons. Forgive me, Indra. Forgive me, Ashura. Perhaps… this is my atonement."
He vanished, leaving the four young shinobi on the floating rock, bathed in the eerie light of a stolen dimension, united and ready for the final battle. The Sage had appeared, offered his power, been refused by the new paradigm, and had passed it to the old guard's finest heirs. The stage was set. The synthesis and the legacy would fight together.
The war for reality entered its final phase.
End of Chapter – 120.