The hospital room felt suffocating.
Hyuga Seiran lay back against the white pillow, his brow furrowed as he processed Orochimaru's revelation. Each refinement to his Electromagnetic Manipulation tempered his flesh—a cost he'd understood early on. But this new evolution was pulling his bloodline backward, regressing him toward his ancestors. Toward something older.
Something purer.
The Byakugan had sharpened considerably. The Snake Sannin wasn't lying about that.
Seiran stared at the ceiling, turning the problem over in his mind. The Hyuga Clan carried only a fragment of the Otsutsuki bloodline—those ancient gods who'd shaped the world. Theoretically, enough regression might unlock something greater. But there were too many unknowns in the equation. Too many variables that could spiral beyond his control.
Then it clicked.
Once my Electromagnetic Manipulation evolves far enough, I'll manipulate atomic structures at the microscopic level. I can expand matter, compress it, reshape reality itself at the fundamental level.
The Otsutsuki were just another milestone in his physical ascension. Why worry about becoming something when he could become everything?
Seiran exhaled slowly, tension draining from his shoulders.
"Seems you've processed this well, Go-kun."
Orochimaru's chuckle was like wind through dead leaves. The Sannin studied Seiran's face with those reptilian eyes.
"Even if my bloodline regresses, visible changes will take years," Seiran said calmly. "The present is what matters."
Orochimaru looked momentarily stunned before a thin smile crossed his scarred face. "Truly worthy of Go-kun."
"How is Anko?"
"She recovers beautifully. The girl is a rare talent—quite compatible with my methods. You'll be impressed when you see her again."
Relief settled over Seiran. Anko had been Orochimaru's student in the original timeline. Knowing the Sannin wouldn't discard her eased his mind considerably.
"Rest well then," Orochimaru said, his voice already trailing toward the door. "I expect a swift recovery."
He vanished like mist.
Alone again, Seiran began his Cell Activation practice. His physiology improved steadily—each session compounding the last.
---
Three days later, Seiran clenched his fists. Power surged through him like electricity through copper wire, a sensation so intoxicating it bordered on euphoric. His biomagnetic field blazed, a roaring inferno contained within flesh and bone.
His strength had skyrocketed since the injury. The cell cultivation technique had accelerated his recovery exponentially. His chakra reserves had nearly doubled.
The Tyrant Mode: Electromagnetic Sovereign activation had spiked his experience significantly—a forced evolution beyond his current limits, purchased in blood and broken bone.
But he'd found a workaround: the Multi-Shadow Clone Jutsu. Create dozens of clones, have them all practice simultaneously until they collapsed into chakra mist. One brutal grind session netted him roughly 1,000 experience points, though he'd spend days in agony afterward. AFK grinding, as he thought of it—cheating the system through sheer suffering.
`[Electromagnetic Mastery: LV3]`
`[8,945/20,000 EXP to next level]`
Nearly there. LV4 beckoned.
LV1 had been basic electromagnetic manipulation. LV2 unlocked his biomagnetic field. LV3 brought the Electromagnetic Furnace—a reactor of raw power humming beneath his skin.
What would LV4 grant him?
He remembered the surge of authority during Tyrant Mode: Electromagnetic Sovereign—that godlike control over electromagnetic forces. The hunger for that power again gnawed at him, impatient and sharp.
---
That afternoon, with Shibi Aburame's assistance, Seiran completed his discharge paperwork.
Konoha Hospital's entrance doors slid open. Harsh sunlight stabbed at his eyes, and he instinctively raised his hand to shield them.
"Your adaptation to bright light has suffered," Shibi observed, concern creasing his voice.
"Rest serves progress," Seiran replied smoothly. "I'm eager to return to active duty."
"The Third Hokage awaits us. We shouldn't delay."
"Right."
Shibi nodded, and they moved toward the Hokage Tower.
---
Hokage's Office
Hiruzen Sarutobi looked up from his desk as Seiran entered, his weathered face breaking into an approving smile. The old Hokage seemed pleased—genuinely pleased.
Here comes the inspirational speech, Seiran thought, suppressing his amusement.
"Excellent," Hiruzen began, his tone warm. "Your spirit remains undamaged. Lord Shibi informed me of your condition, and I'm satisfied." He set down his pipe, smoke curling lazily. "Seiran, you've exceeded the expectations we set for you. It's inappropriate for you to remain at your current rank."
Seiran straightened slightly.
"Effective immediately, I'm promoting you to Chunin. You're authorized to accept B-rank missions independently. Should you require anything, come directly to me."
The Third Hokage resumed smoking, studying Seiran's reaction through the haze.
Seiran felt a flicker of satisfaction. Chunin status opened doors—better pay, better assignments, more autonomy. Exactly what he needed.
Though he suspected Hiruzen had considered ANBU recruitment first. His Magnet Release techniques were precisely the kind of specialized abilities black ops specialized in. But Hyuga Clan politics had complicated matters. Better to accelerate Seiran's growth as a Chunin while keeping him visible than risk Hyuga family friction over recruitment into shadow divisions.
Shrewd.
Hiruzen's expression shifted—a flicker of concern crossing his features. "I heard you employed a forbidden technique during your encounter. Has your body suffered lasting damage?"
Tyrant Mode: Electromagnetic Sovereign. That technique.
Seiran chose his words carefully. "I developed it accidentally. It amplifies my strength dramatically in short bursts—that's what allowed me to survive facing two elite Kirigakure shinobi."
He met Hiruzen's gaze steadily. "The cost is severe. The technique overdrafts my life potential and exhausts my physical reserves in minutes. It damages my cellular foundation. Effectively... it shortens my lifespan."
Hiruzen's eyes widened slightly. A forbidden technique that traded years for power was serious business.
Three minutes of active Tyrant Mode leaves me half-dead for days, Seiran thought, maintaining his composed expression. If that's not a form of lifespan reduction, what is?
Besides, the hospital's damage report wouldn't contradict him—they'd documented cellular trauma without understanding the full scope. A shortened lifespan wasn't easily visible.
Beside them, Shibi deepened his internal guilt, accepting Seiran's explanation at face value.
Hiruzen sighed deeply, studying the young shinobi with complicated eyes. "You embody the Will of Fire, Seiran. Such sacrifice is admirable." The Third Hokage paused. "As compensation, I'll double your mission rewards for this cycle."
Seiran's eyes brightened immediately.
When Hiruzen spread the mission registry open, Seiran swiftly selected three consecutive high-paying assignments—each one substantially lucrative.
The Third Hokage's face turned distinctly green. He'd already committed to the promise, however, and backing down would damage his authority.
With difficulty, Hiruzen approved the selections.
---
One Powerstone. That's all it takes to help this story grow.