[Please support me by dropping some powerstones, golden tickets and gifts on my other original works. especially primordial god of time.]
The sky was bleeding.
A crimson hue bathed the world in deathlight as if heaven itself wept blood. Clouds twisted above the warped horizon, unnaturally slow, as if frozen in a moment of agony.
Beneath that bleeding sky stood a figure — silent, barefoot, cloaked in ash and memory.
He had no name.
No, that wasn't quite true.
He had once been called many things.
Curator. Watcher. The Archivist.
The invisible ghost in every tale. The man who watched stories unfold but never stepped inside. The protector of timelines, the unseen editor of fate's manuscript.
But those days were over.
He had been erased — not killed, not defeated — erased. Forgotten by the gods who made him, cast out of the Nexus of Realms. Not even the stories he once protected remembered his name.
And now?
He was here — dropped into a fractured world reeking of broken destiny.
The smell hit him first.
Smoke, blood, scorched chakra — a mix so thick it seemed to cling to his very soul.
He stood atop the Hokage Rock, the once-proud faces of Konoha's leaders now defaced and half-destroyed. The village below was a fortress of shadows and flame. The Hidden Leaf, once the heartbeat of peace, now pulsed with something else:
Tyranny.
Red banners bearing the Uchiha crest hung from every building. Streets were patrolled by silent Enforcers, their eyes glowing with Mangekyō madness. Civilians moved like ghosts — heads down, eyes hollow.
The Archivist's gaze sharpened.
This world… this was not how it was meant to be.
His System pulsed to life.
[Multiversal Redemption System Activated.]
[Corrupted Timeline Detected: "Naruto – Crimson Leaf Massacre"]
[Mission: Restore Narrative Integrity or Authorize Total Erasure.]
[Status: Power Locked. Retcon Points: 0]
[Primary Target: Naruto Uzumaki – Condition: Unstable Executioner]
"Executioner?" the Archivist murmured. "That… doesn't belong."
He took a step forward, and the air rippled. He was still out of phase — invisible to the timeline's constructs. A ghost walking among corpses of fate.
Down below, movement caught his eye.
A boy. No — not a boy anymore. A young man, cloaked in black, stepping through the shadows like a phantom.
Naruto Uzumaki.
But this Naruto… was wrong.
Hair longer, dirtied with blood. No headband. No smiles. His eyes — they weren't blue. They were gray. Lifeless.
Strapped across his back wasn't a scroll or ramen coupons, but a rusted executioner's blade, smeared with fresh blood.
He was dragging a body.
An old man — a civilian Elder — bound and beaten.
Crowds gathered. Silently. No screams. No protest.
The boy who once screamed about dreams… now whispered death.
"Any last words?" Naruto asked, voice dead.
The Elder wept. "You… you were supposed to be—"
SHHK!
One clean swing.
The head rolled.
The crowd didn't react.
Naruto didn't flinch.
He simply turned, murmured something to his clone, and vanished into the shadows again.
The Archivist stood frozen.
That wasn't corruption.
That was murder rewritten as justice.
[System Alert: Primary Target has executed a High-Impact Narrative Divergence.]
[Retcon Opportunity Detected: Sealed Memory Anchor 01 – "Ramen at Ichiraku"]
[Unlock requires 1 Retcon Point.]
He clenched his fist. He had nothing. No chakra. No jutsu. Not even a voice in this timeline.
But he had purpose.
He had been the protector of tales. And now, he would become their reaper or redeemer.
His feet touched down in the ruined streets.
Konoha was a graveyard.
The once-bright village was draped in silence. The Academy was now a war academy — children trained in blade execution and genjutsu assassination. The Hokage Monument was now called the Wall of Uchiha Ascension.
He walked unseen.
In an alley, he paused.
A boy — no older than seven — crouched over a corpse. His father. Dead. Eyes burned out.
"Don't cry," whispered another boy, maybe ten. "If you cry, the Enforcers hear you."
"Why did they kill him?"
"He had brown eyes."
The Archivist looked away.
He needed intel.
He accessed a barely functioning ability: Narrative Detection.
The world shifted.
Golden threads of destiny shimmered in the air. Most were tangled, cut, or soaked in blood. Some vibrated — stories trying to stay alive. Others were snapped, floating like dead things in the wind.
One glowed faintly.
A path.
Naruto's.
He followed it.
Through the slums, past the abandoned Hokage tower, into the forest.
The trail ended at a cliffside cave. Chakra residue danced along the rocks — violent, unstable.
The Archivist stepped in—
—and froze.
Inside, surrounded by paper talismans and rusted chains, Naruto meditated in front of a corpse.
Jiraiya.
Rotting. Preserved only by icy chakra seals.
A shadow clone sat beside Naruto, humming an eerie tune.
The real Naruto opened his eyes.
"Who's there?" he asked.
The Archivist stiffened. He was still phased out.
But somehow… Naruto sensed him.
"Another ghost?" the boy muttered. "Go away."
The clone glanced around, confused.
"See?" Naruto whispered to the corpse. "They send more of them. Echoes. Watching."
"I'm not an echo," the Archivist said, surprised to hear his voice.
Naruto blinked.
"You can talk?"
The clone moved to attack. Naruto raised a hand to stop it.
"You're… different."
The Archivist took a deep breath. "You don't remember me. But I remember you. You used to dream about becoming Hokage."
Naruto laughed. It was the most broken sound the Archivist had ever heard.
"Hokage?" he spat. "That title belongs to Sasuke now. The Uchiha crowned him after they slit Hiruzen's throat and hung Kakashi from the tower."
"They turned on you."
"They made me what I am," Naruto snarled. "A weapon that can't be broken. They gave me a cursed seal that eats emotions. You think I want this?"
His voice cracked.
"I see memories sometimes. A bowl of ramen. A swing. A man with a stupid mask. But it hurts. It burns."
The Archivist moved closer.
"Let me show you," he said.
[Retcon Trigger Activated.]
[Injecting Memory: "Ichiraku Ramen – Episode 3 Variant"]
[-1 Retcon Point]
[Memory Fusion Begins…]
Naruto gasped.
The world flickered.
And then…
He was sitting at a ramen stall. Warm broth. A smiling old man. Laughter. A wooden bench. He slurped noodles, beamed, felt… whole.
Back in the cave, Naruto shivered. The clone vanished. Tears streaked down his cheeks.
"I… I remember this."
The Archivist knelt beside him.
"You were happy."
Naruto gritted his teeth. "Why does it feel like someone stole it?"
"Because they did."
The wind howled.
"I don't want to forget anymore," Naruto whispered.
The Archivist nodded. "Then fight. Not just for revenge. Fight for your truth."
[Narrative Shift Detected.]
[Naruto's corruption level decreased.]
[Retcon Thread Created: "The Boy Who Ate Ramen"]
[+3 Retcon Points]
Naruto stood.
He walked over to Jiraiya's corpse.
Tore the seals away.
"Rest, pervy sage."
The flames were blue. Pure. Cleansing.
The old man's body vanished in light.
Naruto turned to the Archivist.
"My name is Naruto Uzumaki."
He smiled — small, pained, real.
"Who the hell are you?"
The Archivist straightened.
"I am the one who will fix the stories you were never meant to live."
Naruto blinked.
And for a moment…
Hope returned to the world.
[Chapter 1 – End]
[Next Chapter: "The Uchiha Who Rewrote History"]