The halls of his divine realm were quiet tonight. A rare stillness—one not born from submission or reverence, but reflection.
Veyrath stood at the edge of a darkened terrace, gazing into a swirling constellation of worlds below. Each one bore his mark. Each one had been conquered, reshaped, and made to remember his name. And yet, even now, something tugged at the edges of his vast mind—a thread older than any dominion, woven not into the fabric of reality, but into memory.
Not of this life. But the one before.
A life where he had no throne. No wings. No worshipers.
Only a screen… and stories.
"...Naruto," he whispered, the name falling from his lips like a forgotten hymn.
It wasn't a god's name. Not a king's. But a boy's. A tale. A world filled with swirling chakra and tragic legends, where the strong fought for peace, and the broken were never truly forgotten. He had watched it all once—through a glowing monitor in a dim room, before sleep and school and sorrow. When he was just another face in a crowd that never looked up.
He had forgotten that part of himself for a long time. But something had brought it back. No—someone.
Kaguya.
Not the villain they had called her. Not to him. Even back then, when her appearance had divided fans and fueled debate, he had seen something different. Not a monster. Not a tyrant. But a queen who fell before the story ever understood her.
"She was always more than they let her be," he murmured. "They sealed her away and moved on… as if the world she gave birth to owed her nothing."
He clenched his fist, and power hummed in his veins like a living storm. But this storm was not born of rage. It was born of remembrance.
"I always said… if I had the chance..." he smiled faintly. "I'd go there myself. I'd meet her. Save her. Rewrite everything."
Now, he could.
He no longer lived behind a screen. He was the screen. The writer. The ruler. The divine hand that could reach into any story and twist it to his will. And the Naruto world?
It was ripe.
"System," he called, his voice echoing across creation, "locate the world known as Naruto. Anchor it through the fictional parameters of my old life."
[World Located: Naruto Universe.]
[Temporal Coordinates: The Second Great Ninja War. The three Sannin have not yet gained their titles. Kaguya Ōtsutsuki remains sealed.]
[Warning: This world believes itself to be real. Local systems: chakra, bloodline limits, tailed beasts.]
[Proceed?]
"Yes," Veyrath said without hesitation. "I will descend as something not from that world—but above it. Not a shinobi. Not a sage. But something far older. Something that even the Sage of Six Paths would kneel to."
His realm rumbled in approval, space parting like obedient silk before his will. He walked forward, trailing stardust and silence. As the rift opened, the smell of steel, smoke, and war drifted through.
It was raining on the other side.
Of course it was.
The Land of Rain... the perfect place to begin.
The war had not yet broken the world—but it would soon. The cycle of hatred, the endless bloodshed, the rise of names like Hanzo, Jiraiya, Tsunade, Orochimaru… All of it was waiting to unfold.
But not this time.
This time, he would be there first.
Veyrath stepped into the breach, his voice a final decree cast across reality.
"Kaguya… I haven't forgotten you."
"And this time, I'll make sure no one ever does again."
The Moon was not dead.
Not truly.
Beneath its silver crust and layers of silence, a pulse had returned. Faint. Rhythmic. Awakened not by time, but by a name.
Veyrath.
The seal fractured first at its edges. Invisible to mortals, yet thunderous to the void. Chains crafted from betrayal and divine fear began to loosen, not because of weakness—but because their authority had been revoked.
The King had returned.
Inside the Moon's core, encased in darkness, she stirred.
Kaguya.
Eyes still closed. Hair suspended in slow motion. Her breath shallow and constant, like a lullaby lost to time.
And then—she smiled.
"He knows me."
A whisper. No louder than a thought. But in that whisper, the core of the Moon trembled.
Light flickered from her chest. The Primordial Tenseigan—a dormant star sealed inside her—began to turn again.
A voice reached her. Not spoken. Not external.
His voice.
"I am coming."
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, trailing down porcelain skin that had not aged in millennia.
She opened her eyes.
They blazed.
In the Silent Abyss, Veyrath stood at the edge of his throne's dais.
"She awakens," he said simply.
Seraphis stood beside him, her golden gaze filled with knowing. "Shall I go to her, my King?"
He shook his head.
"She belongs to me."
With a single step, Veyrath walked forward and vanished. Reality folded inward to make way. Space did not tear; it yielded.
On the Moon, the surface cracked. Deep black fissures opened like blooming scars. Out of them rose a column of silver mist and cascading light. At its center, Veyrath appeared.
Kaguya gasped, hand rising to her mouth, her whole body trembling.
"You're real," she said. "I thought... I thought it was just a dream."
He walked toward her.
She knelt.
Immediately. Without hesitation.
Not in fear.
In devotion.
"My King... I am yours. I have always been yours. Even when I didn't know your name. Even when they cursed me. Even when they buried me beneath this stone. I remembered. I waited."
He reached her and placed his hand upon her bowed head.
"And I remember you," he said, voice smooth as eternity. "You were never forgotten."
Light engulfed them.
The seal shattered like glass under divine command.
Kaguya rose, newly born in grace and power. Her hair danced like silver flame, and the Primordial Tenseigan shone with cosmic clarity.
Veyrath turned toward the planet below.
"This world is mine," he said.
Kaguya stood at his side, her expression serene and fierce.
"Then let it kneel."
Together, they descended.
The conquest of Earth had begun.
And behind them, the Moon wept its last tear—for joy.