The Hidden Hollow's heart pulsed with a rhythm Naruto could feel in his bones, a low thrum that seeped through the cavern's stone walls and into his dreams. He woke on the cot, sweat-slicked, the torch in his chamber reduced to a guttering ember. The dream lingered—golden chains spiraling through a crimson sky, binding a fox that laughed with his voice. The Forbidden Scroll lay beside him, its seals glowing faintly, as if daring him to open it again. He didn't. Not yet.
Dawn was a lie in the Hollow. No sun pierced the cavern's depths, only a cold, gray light that filtered through unseen cracks. Naruto's side ached from the chakra burn, a dull pulse under the bandage Kana had tied last night. He touched it, wincing, and the Kyubi stirred, its warmth curling like smoke in his gut. You're weak, it whispered, not mocking this time, but prodding. Learn, or die.
He shoved the voice down, pulling on his torn jacket. The Uzumaki spiral on the back felt heavier now, like a brand. Kana's words echoed: Use them back. Could he? The Hollow wasn't Konoha, but Yura's blind eye and Raiden's scythe promised their own kind of chains.
Kana waited outside, her tattered cloak damp with mist. Her obsidian eyes flicked over him, assessing. "You look like hell, kid."
"Thanks," Naruto muttered, slinging the scroll over his shoulder. Its weight grounded him, a reminder of why he was here. "What's this training Yura talked about?"
Kana's smirk was sharp, like a blade half-drawn. "The kind that breaks you before it builds you. Come on."
She led him through tunnels that twisted like the roots of the oak he'd rested under days ago. The air grew colder, thicker, carrying the scent of wet stone and something acrid—chakra residue, maybe, or blood. The walls were etched with more Uzumaki spirals, their curves hypnotic, each one seeming to pulse in time with the Hollow's song. Naruto's fingers brushed one, and a jolt ran through him, not pain but memory—waves crashing, red hair in the wind, a woman's voice he didn't know. He yanked his hand back, heart racing.
Kana noticed but didn't comment. "Don't touch what you don't understand," she said, her voice low. "Not yet."
The tunnel opened into a sunken arena, its floor packed dirt stained dark with use. Torches ringed the edges, their flames casting jagged shadows that danced like specters. Raiden stood at the center, his scythe propped against his shoulder, its blade catching the light like a hungry eye. Taro, the bandaged fighter from yesterday, lounged against a wall, his grin lazy but dangerous. Other outcasts—ten, maybe twelve—watched from the edges, their weapons glinting: a whip, a staff, a pair of sais.
Yura sat on a stone ledge above, her silver hair glinting like bone in the torchlight. "Uzumaki," she called, her voice cutting through the arena's hum. "You survived Taro. Let's see if you survive the Hollow."
Naruto's stomach twisted, but he stepped forward, the scroll thudding against his back. "What's the test?"
Yura's blind eye seemed to pierce him. "Power is nothing without control. The scroll's secrets require both. Show us you can handle your own."
Raiden stepped aside, revealing a circle of seals carved into the dirt—spirals within spirals, glowing faintly blue. "Step inside," he said, his gravelly voice laced with amusement. "And don't scream."
Naruto hesitated, the Kyubi's warmth flaring. A trap, it hissed. He ignored it, stepping into the circle. The seals flared, and pain lanced through him—not the burn of the masked figure's attack, but something deeper, like hooks in his chakra. The arena blurred, the outcasts' faces fading into shadow. He was alone, standing on a cliff over a crimson sea, waves crashing with the Kyubi's laugh.
A figure appeared—not the fox, but a woman, her red hair flowing like blood. Her eyes were his, blue but flecked with crimson. "Naruto," she said, her voice soft but heavy, like the tide. "The chains are yours, but they bind you too."
"Who are you?" Naruto asked, his voice trembling. The scroll burned against his back, its seals pulsing in time with the sea.
"Your blood," she said, raising a hand. Golden chains erupted from the ground, wrapping his wrists, his ankles, his chest. They didn't hurt, but they held him fast, their weight familiar yet alien. "Control them, or they'll control you."
The vision shattered. Naruto was back in the arena, kneeling, gasping, the seals beneath him dimming. His hands glowed faintly, chains flickering before fading. The outcasts stared, some with awe, others with fear. Yura's expression was unreadable.
"Uzumaki seals," she said, her voice low. "Your clan's gift. Rare, even here."
Naruto stood, legs shaking. "My clan?" His voice cracked, raw with something he couldn't name. Konoha had never spoken of the Uzumaki, only the fox.
Yura descended, her bone beads clinking. "The Uzumaki were sealmasters, feared and envied. Konoha used them, then let them die. You're their echo, boy. And that scroll…" She gestured to it. "It holds their legacy. But it's useless without discipline."
Naruto's chest tightened. A legacy? Not a curse? The Kyubi chuckled, soft and dark. They lie, like the village. Use them.
"Training starts now," Yura said. "Taro, Kana—break him in."
The next hours were a blur of pain and motion. Taro's glowing fists came fast, each strike a lesson in evasion. Kana's tanto danced, forcing Naruto to parry with kunai or clones—never enough, his chakra still unsteady. The outcasts shouted corrections, their voices harsh but precise: "Move your feet!" "Anticipate, don't react!" Naruto's clones flickered in and out, his side burning, sweat stinging his eyes. He fell, rose, fell again, each bruise a reminder of Konoha's lies, each strike fueling the crimson flicker within.
Kana pinned him at one point, her blade at his throat. "You're sloppy," she hissed, but her eyes held something like respect. "Feel the chains, not just the anger."
Naruto growled, summoning a single chain from his palm. It lashed out, grazing Kana's arm before snapping back. She grinned, stepping off. "Better."
By the end, Naruto could barely stand, his chakra a flickering ember. The outcasts dispersed, leaving him with Kana and Raiden. Yura watched from above, her blind eye gleaming. "You've got potential," she said. "But potential dies without sacrifice. Tomorrow, you learn the scroll's deeper seals. Be ready."
Naruto nodded, too exhausted to argue. Kana led him back to his chamber, the tunnels' spirals seeming to pulse with his heartbeat. "You did good," she said, pausing at his door. "But Yura's right. The Hollow's not a home—it's a crucible. Don't expect kindness."
"I don't," Naruto said, his voice hoarse. "Never did."
Alone, he collapsed onto the cot, the scroll beside him. He traced its seals, the Uzumaki symbol burning under his touch. The woman's voice echoed—control them, or they'll control you. The Kyubi was silent, but its warmth lingered, a promise and a threat.
Outside, the Hollow sang, its melody sharp and unyielding. Naruto closed his eyes, the crimson sea waiting in his dreams. The path untaken was no longer just defiance—it was legacy, power, and a price he was beginning to glimpse.