The stairs were damn near endless.
Naruto's legs ached. His breath came ragged. Every step felt like it was dragging him into someone else's nightmare. The kind of dream where the walls breathed, the shadows whispered, and you knew—not thought, KNEW—you weren't supposed to be here.
"Fuck this place," Naruto muttered, dragging his hand against the wall, leaving a smear of soot behind. "Fuck Raian. Fuck Kairo. Fuck the whole goddamn Library."
No one answered.
Of course they didn't. Cowards. Dead or hiding. Or maybe both.
The walls around him changed. Stone gave way to something like glass—but warped. Clouded. It shimmered. Reflected nothing. As if the space itself refused to remember.
And then he hit the floor.
Literally. The stairs just ended and he slammed down hard, grunting as pain shot up his spine.
"SON OF A—"
He stopped.
Because this room… this fucking thing… wasn't a room.
It was a pit.
Circular. Wide. Endless.
And in the center was a slab of obsidian, carved in runes that bled black smoke. Like the rock itself was choking on secrets.
On the slab? A skeleton.
Not dust. Not bones scattered by time. A body. Mummified by force, not age. Like it had been drained.
"The fuck is this…"
Naruto stepped forward.
The walls lit up.
Not with torches. With memories. Flickering scenes burned themselves into the glass: bloodied children. Shinobi screaming. Villages on fire. Faces without names—faces Naruto should know—but didn't.
"This ain't history," he muttered. "This is trauma. Bottled trauma."
And then the slab spoke.
Not with a voice. With a pulse.
A beat, like a goddamn heart. One that hadn't pumped in centuries but refused to fucking die.
thump
thump
THUMP
Naruto's knees gave out.
The world around him convulsed. Shadows stretched like claws. A voice—not his, not Kurama's, not even Raian's—shoved itself into his skull:
CAGE. CURSE. CARRIER.
Naruto screamed. Fought it. Bit his tongue until blood painted his teeth.
"I'M NOT A FUCKING PRISON!"
The voice laughed.
You ARE the chain. The vessel. The heir to the WOUND.
Something in the slab twitched.
The skeleton moved.
Just a finger.
But it moved.
Naruto backed the fuck up.
"Nope. Nope. Not today. I've seen enough zombie bullshit."
But his body betrayed him. Feet stuck. Chakra frozen. Even Kurama inside him growled but didn't speak. That thing—whatever it was—was older than the Nine Tails. Older than Tailed Beasts. Older than death.
Then something clicked in Naruto's head like a loaded trigger.
"This place wasn't locked to keep people out."
"It was locked to keep that thing IN."
A memory hit him from Kairo's notes. A single phrase buried in a torn scroll.
Starfall Protocol: Final Containment. Do NOT breach Door 3.
This was Door 3.
This was the fucking heart of it all.
The pit. The slab. The thing.
The true first channel.
Not a gateway to power.
A fucking tomb.
A lie wrapped in scrolls and seals and fake history.
Naruto stumbled back, finally able to breathe, dragging himself up the stairs again. Whatever was down here—it was watching. It knew him now.
"Fuck this. Fuck every dusty bastard who built this place. I don't care if you're Hokage or God—YOU LEFT THIS DOWN HERE?"
His voice echoed. Mocking him.
Mocking the idea that he'd ever been free.
That he wasn't born a cage.
When he reached the top, the stone behind him sealed with a slam that echoed like judgment.
He leaned against the wall, breath ragged, fists bloody from clawing at the steps.
"I'm gonna burn this place. I swear to Kami, I'll fucking burn it all."
But he wouldn't.
Not yet.
Because that slab—whatever the fuck it was—had answers. And Naruto wasn't leaving this place half-fed on truth.