The world of Naruto—an age steeped in war, known in secret scrolls as the Age of the Ancestors.
High above, the full moon hung like a silver coin in the velvet sky, surrounded by countless shimmering stars.
From the heart of the Milky Way, shooting stars streaked downward, blazing trails of light across the heavens.
Amidst groves of fiery-red trees and drifting fireflies, one such meteor descended—its passage so brilliant it turned night into day, casting an eerie glow over the ancestral lands.
BOOM!
With a thunderous crash and a plume of smoke, two figures emerged from the impact.
"Hey, Kaguya-hime… when are you going to accept my proposal and become my concubine?"
The man spoke with casual arrogance. Tall and imposing, he bore a pair of curved horns upon his brow, his long white hair flowing over pristine white robes. His features were sharp, ancient—etched with the weight of eons—and his expression radiated domineering confidence.
"Lord Isshiki jests," the woman replied coolly.
She stood tall and graceful, radiating an otherworldly elegance. Clad in a flowing white kimono, her waist-length silver hair cascaded like moonlit water down her back. Twin horns rose gently from her temples, and though her eyes gleamed with ethereal light, they held no pupils—only milky, pupil-less white.
"How tedious," Isshiki muttered, his lips curling into a smirk. Yet his gaze remained fixed on her, greed and desire barely veiled beneath his amusement. "You should consider yourself honored. Few from a branch family are offered such a privilege."
Kaguya continued walking forward, acutely aware of Isshiki's eyes boring into her back.
A cold glint flickered in her own.
"I suggest you do not test my gratitude," she said without turning.
Isshiki chuckled. "Ah, but you are being ungrateful."
He crossed his arms, watching her with lazy confidence. Within his right eye, a faint, cross-shaped pattern shimmered—subtle, amused, and full of unspoken power.
The tension between them thickened like smoke—silent, coiled, ready to snap…
WHOOSH!
Suddenly, a blinding streak tore across the distant sky, shattering the stillness.
Both turned their eyes upward.
Another shooting star—no, not a star. Something… or someone… was falling.
THUD!
A small child plummeted from the heavens—and landed squarely on Kaguya's face, open-crotch pants and all.
For a moment, there was only stunned silence.
Kaguya's mood, already frayed by Isshiki's provocation, plummeted into icy fury. First threatened, now sat upon like cheap cushioning? Her composure trembled.
…And yet, deep within, she exhaled in quiet relief. If she'd been forced to act against Isshiki just now—facing away, unprepared—her plan might have unraveled before it even began.
Gently (though with visible restraint), she lifted the child from her face.
Dangling midair, the boy blinked, then sheepishly scratched his head. After an awkward wave, he offered Kaguya a disarmingly sweet, polite smile.
"…Would you believe me if I said that was an accident?"
...
As you can see—Akira has transmigrated!
And not just anywhere. No, fate had to drop him right into what might very well be the most absurd time-travel scenario in fiction.
Seriously—what's worse than waking up inside the final boss's lair before the story's even begun?
Slapping Naruto in the face on Day One? Sure, that'd be bold.
But this? This is a hellish starting point.
Most transmigrators get a village, a clan, maybe a few loyal minions to help them grind XP.
Akira? He got… an infant body. No jutsu. No weapons. Not even a diaper with hidden seals.
He needed time to grow. To scheme. To exist without immediate existential dread.
So… what dish was the universe serving him today?
At that very moment, Akira and Princess Kaguya locked eyes—both wide with shock, though for wildly different reasons.
Kaguya's face was, objectively, divine—ethereal, flawless, the kind poets would weep over.
But Akira had zero bandwidth for aesthetics. His mind was screaming:
Did the screenwriter mix up the scripts?!
Still, panic wouldn't save him. He forced himself to assess the situation.
Environment: Catastrophic.
Disadvantages: He was a newborn. Helpless. Powerless. Entirely at the mercy of cosmic-level beings who saw humanity as livestock.
Advantage? …Well, babies are usually considered harmless. Maybe that'd buy him a few seconds?
Right? Surely even godlike aliens wouldn't murder an innocent infant on sight…?
"Kill it," Isshiki said, barely glancing over, a cruel smirk curling his lips. "I despise children."
Akira: "…"
…And just like that, his one flimsy hope evaporated.
Of course. The Ōtsutsuki weren't just arrogant—they were extraterrestrial colonizers who viewed Earth as a farm. A baby? Less than a pest. More like background noise.
Desperate, Akira shut his eyes and prayed to the only deus ex machina he knew:
"System! Come out, you lazy cheat code!
Grandpa System, stop hiding!
If you don't show up right now, your so-called 'protagonist' is about to become baby paste!"
Silence.
He sighed inwardly.
What else could he do? The Naruto lore he knew was useless here. Hagoromo and Hamura hadn't even been born yet. There was no Rasengan, no Sage Mode, no hope.
All he could do was wait for the end.
…Though, oddly, the infant in Kaguya's arms wore a tiny, rueful smile—too knowing, too human for a newborn.
Kaguya noticed. Her crimson eyes narrowed, intrigued despite herself.
Goodbye, Tsunade-hime…
Goodbye, Hinata…
Goodbye, Sasuke…
Goodbye, Naruto…
And then—
[Three Options Appear:]
🔹 Option 1: Reveal to Kaguya that her own sons will one day seal her away.
Reward: Rinnegan
🔹 Option 2: Warn Isshiki that Kaguya plans to betray him.
Reward: Tenseigan
🔹 Option 3: Say nothing. Accept your fate with dignity.
Reward: Charisma +1
Akira blinked internally.
"…Seriously?"