"D‑Damn it… how did you find me?"
Dragged into an idyllic, paradise‑like pocket dimension, Ōtsutsuki Isshiki—every acupuncture point in his body impaled by Yin‑Yang Black Receiver Rods—looked up at Izayoi in front of him. He simply could not fathom how the man had cracked his Sukunahikona + space‑time portal combo.
Back in the real world, once he re‑enlarged himself, the portal could still be discovered; that was at least conceivable.
But inside the space‑time tunnel he shrank to smaller than a mantis—so tiny he was invisible to the naked eye, his chakra shrinking with him and leaving no trace—while the tunnel itself branched into countless sub‑spaces. Even dōjutsu of the Kekkei Mōra tier could not locate him there.
For more than two millennia Isshiki had relied on this combination to stay alive.
By that logic, Izayoi should never have been able to detect him.
How on earth did this guy manage it?
Isshiki did not realize that a single glance from Izayoi allowed the latter to see the next five minutes of his future. Unless Isshiki spent those five minutes in constant flight, the moment he entered any sub‑dimension, Izayoi could follow the trail and pin him down.
In the end, he simply had not been cautious enough.
Izayoi offered no explanation to Isshiki's bewildered question; he merely raised an eyebrow.
Then he conjured two black orbs, fused them into a larger sphere, let it liquefy and flood over Isshiki, and finally solidified it into a black cubic box on the grass—the Chakra Orbs + Ohirei combo.
At this moment the being inside was both "Jigen" and Ōtsutsuki Isshiki.
With only half of his original body left, Isshiki had to parasitize Jigen, siphoning his host's life force to survive. Jigen's brain had long since been overridden; Isshiki spoke through Jigen's voice and moved his body at will. A Kāma was engraved on him as well.
At nothing but a thought, Isshiki could activate the data stored in Jigen and perform a full reincarnation: Jigen's appearance—even his genetic chain—would transform into Isshiki's pureblood Ōtsutsuki form.
Yet Jigen's body was too frail; a true reincarnation would leave Isshiki with only a sliver of lifespan, so he continued to live as a parasite instead.
Precisely because he was parasitic, Isshiki's true body could exit Jigen at any moment and look for a new host.
Izayoi had used the Chakra Orbs + Ohirei combo because his eyes had just foreseen Isshiki's plan: abandon Jigen's body, slip out through the ear canal, burn his last chakra to cast Daikokuten + space‑time portal, and escape the pocket dimension.
Having finally caught this rat, Izayoi would not grant him the chance.
After shutting Isshiki in the "little black room," Izayoi exhaled and activated Tensonari, peering back into the exalted past of this Rabbit‑Goddess‑class Ōtsutsuki.
It was undoubtedly an epic—but its latter half was miserably pathetic.
For the past two thousand years Isshiki had scurried like a rat, hiding only in the darkest of dimensions, shrinking himself with Sukunahikona so that body and chakra melted into shadow; only then did the once‑regal Ōtsutsuki feel a shred of safety.
He had no choice.
As a high‑ranking pureblood he had never expected betrayal by an underling, had never branded a Kāma on a lower life‑form, and thus had no spare vessel. Jigen was his sole option: should either body die, Isshiki would truly perish.
An immortal of such noble stock feared death far more than ordinary humans. To resurrect himself he had eaten humiliation for two millennia—so cautious that even Izayoi felt a pang of pity for him.
Had arrogance not felled him, Isshiki might by now have awakened several more divine arts beyond Byakugan, Sukunahikona, and Daikokuten—perhaps stronger Kekkei Mōra as well. Two thousand years are enough to bear two chakra fruits, and Isshiki happened to possess two Ten‑Tails. Even if clan law demanded he surrender the fruit and accept only chakra pills, a single dose would have let him evolve.
But "if" never came. One slip, total defeat—that was the price of his two‑millennia struggle.
Having skimmed those two thousand years, Izayoi's eyelids twitched; he felt a bit tired, but nothing more.
Even after absorbing the Ten‑Tails, even though the combined chakra of the whole ninja world was less than his own, Izayoi could still see only five minutes ahead.
Viewing the past, though—even a thousand years back—caused merely mild fatigue; double the span, double the strain, and no more.
That is the gulf between what has happened and what has not.
Rewinding to a time before Isshiki and Kaguya arrived on Earth, Izayoi suddenly understood how the Ōtsutsuki seek out planets: with Byakugan and other dōjutsu they scan the pitch‑black cosmos for worlds whose life‑energy shines, then use space‑time ninjutsu to leap vast distances—teleport first, fly later.
Pushing his ocular power further, Izayoi finally glimpsed the Ōtsutsuki main clan. A race that could traverse space in the flesh, live eons, perhaps even transcend the world—a species not unlike the Saiyans of Dragon Ball.
Saiyans conquer planets to sell; the Ōtsutsuki scour them to grow Divine Trees.
Both evolve: Saiyans through transformations, the Ōtsutsuki through consuming chakra fruit or pills, spawning ever‑new abilities.
"What a race—Kage level is worthless, and Six‑Paths level litters the ground."
Through Isshiki's memories Izayoi saw their home world: pureblood Ōtsutsuki flying everywhere, even rending space itself.
On Earth almost no ninja can truly fly; even Hashirama needs Wood‑Style dragons. Flight is a Six‑Paths privilege—no, it is the standard kit of those who have stepped into higher‑dimensional realms. Canon Sasuke never flew; only Six‑Paths‑mode Naruto with horns could.
Yet on that planet, flight and space‑time travel are everyday transportation.
Even children bear horns and titanic chakra, perform jutsu without hand‑seals, awaken Byakugan‑exclusive arts or inherit their parents' divine techniques—wielding extra‑dimensional power before adulthood.
A species so outrageous could indeed roam the stars, draining life‑rich worlds through Divine Trees to refine chakra fruit and advance their own life‑state.
Izayoi kept rewinding Isshiki's past, frames flashing as though at ten‑thousand‑times speed, yet still slow beneath his Rinne‑Sharingan.
Suddenly he blinked and halted his ocular output. He had seen a scene: Isshiki, brimming with excitement, receiving a vial of green liquid from someone. They called it a Supreme Treasure. Could this be the Ōtsutsuki's ultimate relic?
Ending Tensonari, Izayoi rubbed his twitching eyelids, then began the next step. He pressed a hand to the pitch‑black cube; the touch sank inward, and blue‑white, chakra‑like flames surged out to cloak his forearm. Look closely—they were souls.
Even though the Ōtsutsuki reincarnate via Kāma, these immortals still possess souls; Izayoi himself proved that. Souls meant soul‑searching was possible.
He had not done so immediately because he did not want to sift through oceans of junk data; Tensonari is often more convenient and immersive. Yet some intel—chakra‑alchemy, that green vial, the deeper secrets of Kāma—had to come directly from Isshiki's memory. To hunt a grain of information in a millennium‑deep sea would be hopeless for an ordinary Rinnegan, but—
The Rinne‑Sharingan on Izayoi's brow flared scarlet.
Inside the cube, Isshiki—impaled and still lodged in Jigen's half‑body—suddenly went blank.
Genjutsu.
Common illusions fail on a pureblood Ōtsutsuki; Kekkei Mōra genjutsu is another matter. Under Izayoi's hypnosis Isshiki recalled exactly what was needed, and Izayoi ruthlessly read it all.
Soon he had his answers.
"So that's how Kāma really works… An unbelievable ability—no wonder the Ten‑Tails keeps getting played."
Kāma is unique to the pureblood Ōtsutsuki: they copy themselves, data‑fy that copy, and embed it in another.
Hosts unable to bear the data rupture and explode; those who can endure gain the code's power while their bodies are rewritten. At the caster's thought, his soul jumps into the rewritten body, erasing the host's soul like a virus; the shell cracks away, revealing the caster's true form.
Thus, once Kāma is engraved and the body fully rewritten, life and death rest on the caster's whim.
With this power the Ōtsutsuki tricked the Ten‑Tails time and again, letting its Divine Tree harvest a world's energy unopposed.
Now Izayoi also grasped Kāma—and, at long last, the fabled chakra‑alchemy method, which likewise hinges on Kāma's data‑fication.
Everyone's "data size" differs: the strong count in gigabytes, the weak in megabytes. Consuming chakra pills raises that data—an upgrade, like software gaining new functions. But absorbing or transplanting new data requires Rinnegan abilities akin to the Preta Path's devouring.
That is why Ōtsutsuki Momoshiki could, without chakra fruit, absorb chakra with his Rinnegan and refine it into pills—and why Izayoi can now do the same.
Delighted, Izayoi thought: At last, a way to extend my life.
His dream—no, his goal—was now half fulfilled.