Hamura tilted his head slowly, as if reacquainting himself with the sensation of movement. He had been dormant for a very long time. Though his spirit remained tethered to the Tenseigan, something—or someone—had wrapped threads of foreign will around his own, dimming his presence and corrupting his intent. With my sword, I severed those threads—cutting through the bonds that obscured his essence. Hagoromo's guidance had brought me this far, but where his teachings ended, my instincts carried me forward.
My blood gave his form substance. My will shaped the spiritual into the physical—at least partially—enough for all present to witness him. The same way my blood creates my spiritual clones, I invoked a deeper variant to sustain him for this moment. He was not entirely corporeal, but his voice could reach us.
Everyone in the chamber felt it: though eyeless, Hamura's perception touched each soul. I could feel his gaze, not just as pressure or presence—but through the threads of emotion woven into the spiritual fabric of the room. He studied everyone, pausing longest on Hiashi and Hanabi. Then, slowly, he lifted his hands, registering my blood wrapped like mist across his form—giving him shape against all odds. His senses extended even farther, reaching toward the countless spirits bound to the Tenseigan. Then, just as suddenly, his attention receded.
For a moment, the room exhaled. The weight of being perceived lifted.
Then his expression twisted—disgust, sorrow, revulsion.
And then, finally, his presence turned to me.
Surprise. Familiarity. Wonder.
What he felt was plain for all to see. His emotions, normally imperceptible to others, mirrored clearly on his face.
"It is difficult to believe you are descended from my legacy," Hamura spoke at last, voice weathered by time, heavy with wonder. "And yet… I feel it. Something ancient stirs in me when I look at you. You are… changed. The remnants of my legacy within you are unlike anything I have ever seen. And yet, you remind me of my mother… You are the one who woke me. I believed that was impossible when I chose to remain behind to protect our bloodline. Who are you?"
I bowed—an ancestral gesture I had learned from the customs of the Land of Iron, guided by intuition more than memory.
"Ancestor Hamura," I said softly, "I am Hinata Gin. Born of the Hyūga Clan, of the world your brother created. With me stand my sister, Hanabi Hyūga, and my father, Hiashi Hyūga."
Both stepped forward and bowed in the same formal way—the one I had once been forced to use so often as a child before the elders. I saw genuine reverence in their gestures.
With a faint nod from Hamura, I continued. "We have come to speak with you about a matter that involves your brother, Hagoromo… When we arrived here we found the current state of the moon. The actions taken in Hagoromo's world have rippled across this land, disturbing your legacy. I fear that without your direct intervention, these events cannot be undone."
Behind me, Haru, Toneri, and now his grandfather—conscious but silent—stepped forward and bowed. They said nothing.
Hamura's awareness shifted again, this time toward Toneri and Tsuki. I could feel it—he saw the same threads I had seen. The same corruption. The same strings tied to the Tenseigan that had once bound him.
His presence loomed.
"You two have much to explain," Hamura said, solemnly. "Introduce yourselves—and tell me what has happened."
It was Tsuki who spoke, his voice clear, unwavering.
"My name is Tsuki Ōtsutsuki. This is my grandson, Toneri. We have always served your celestial will. After the shinobi of Hagoromo's world stole the sacred statue, our leaders failed us. They sat idle for decades, too content in their seats of power to act. We could not abide their passivity. So we rose. We took control of the moon to fulfill your will. We would punish those below and build a new world. One worthy of you. We were ready to sacrifice anything to realize that dream, oh venerable ancestor."
Hamura did not speak immediately. I felt the tremble in his soul.
Then came the fear.
He reached inward, connecting with the remnants of his lineage across the moon. I saw it in his face—terror.
"How many settlements remain?" he asked.
Haru answered, voice like stone.
"Venerable Ancestor… I am Haru Ōtsutsuki, leader of the last inhabited city. When the radicals seized control of the Tenseigan and weaponized the puppets you entrusted to us, the disagreements turned to war. And they… they began to win at a terrible... horrific cost."
I saw Tsuki's aura shift. For the first time, awareness crept into him. The weight of his actions settled visibly on his shoulders.
Hamura spoke again, his voice low and quaking.
"Tsuki… You and your followers sacrificed your eyes, even parts of your souls, to bind yourselves to the Tenseigan. You strengthened it—but perverted its purpose. Once, my legacy served all descendants. Now, it serves only your bloodline. That is not protection. That is destruction."
He paused, wrestling with himself. His spirit roiled with emotion, and it was clear he was trying to regain calm.
"Thankfully, not all is lost. There is still a path forward. Your grandson… he is not at fault for the world he inherited. I feel remorse in him. He will bear the burden of the sins you've placed upon his back. Let the conflict among my descendants end today. Make peace with each other. Find a way. You are dismissed. I must speak with those who came from beyond the moon."
Tsuki, Toneri, and Haru bowed deeply and exited. Haru's tears glimmered as he turned away—tears of relief and reverence. I couldn't yet discern the dominant emotion in Tsuki… but in Toneri, guilt weighed heavily on every step.
The chamber quieted as the last of the others departed, and only the four of us remained: Hinata, Hanabi, Hiashi, and the spectral presence of Hamura.
He stood in silence, drifting above the moonstone dais as though suspended by a will older than time. The air shimmered faintly with spiritual tension—still alive with the echoes of his awakening. And in that moment, the silence was more powerful than words.
Then, Hamura turned to Hanabi.
"You are young," he said softly, his voice no longer grand, but intimate. "But your eyes are pure. Your heart unclouded. You carry the gifts of our bloodline with grace. You remind me of what we hoped for in the early days—when we believed that peace was not just possible, but inevitable."
Hanabi stepped forward and bowed again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I only wish to protect those I love. If that means living by your ideals, then I will."
Hamura's hollow gaze lingered on her, and I could see in the threads of his soul a melancholy admiration.
Then, his attention shifted to Hiashi. The room thickened with old pride, and older judgment.
"You are a patriarch," he said. "You carry many burdens. And you made choices that shaped not just your daughters—but the fate of your clan. Do you regret them?"
Hiashi straightened. For the first time in years, he looked as if he were facing a superior not in rank, but in spirit.
"I do. Not all… but enough. I held too tightly to what I thought was tradition. I forgot that tradition is only sacred if it serves life. My daughter reminded me. She became more than I ever imagined."
Hamura tilted his head, and though he had no eyes, I felt he saw right through my father's soul.
"Then you have begun to understand. Redemption is not granted by power—it is earned by change."
Finally, his focus returned to me.
"And you, Hinata Gin."
I bowed again, but this time with no movement—only with my spirit. "Yes, ancestor."
"You are… beyond what I anticipated. Your soul carries resonance not just from me, but from things far greater than blood. You are not simply a continuation. You are a divergence. A new path."
I felt the truth of his words, though they still shook me.
"I did not come here to replace the past," I said. "Only to protect what must endure. There is pain in our world. Things that cannot be healed by chakra or even will alone. But I believe… perhaps… through spirit, we can rebuild what was lost."
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then Hamura drifted slowly toward me, his feet never touching the ground.
Then he spoke again.
"You mentioned my brother Hagoromo… Is he still trying to restore the energy our mother once drew from the world—disrupting the natural cycle of souls with his Pure Lands?"
There was a note of criticism in his voice, a faint edge as he looked not at me, but through me.
I answered without hesitation, firm in my tone. "Ancestor, Hagoromo and I have come to a different conclusion. We believe the cycle and the decision to imprison your mother must be overcome. That you and your brother must be allowed the chance to reconcile with her, to amend the conflict that tore your family apart. Refusing that could have dire consequences for our reality."
As I finished, I lifted my right wrist and revealed the mark Hagoromo had placed there—a symbol of his trust and of my role.
Hamura remained silent for nearly a full minute, staring at the mark.
I could feel the conflict within him. His love for his mother… his regret for what had been done to her. He had once helped seal her away, believing it necessary. Now he questioned whether that act had truly brought peace.
"So he gave you that mark..." he said at last. "Do you even understand what you're suggesting? Do you know how difficult this path will be?"
I nodded. "I believe that when I free her—when I speak to her—I can serve, as he described, as a bridge. A bridge between you, and her. So the conflict may end."
"And how do you intend to do that? I cannot leave this place."
I smiled softly. "That part is simple. You come with me. To Yumegakure no Kai. There, you could exist without issue. You already said this world has changed… that your legacy has been altered by the radicals. Leave it in their hands. Let what remains carry your spirit as it is, and not as it was."
"Yumegakure no Kai..." he echoed thoughtfully.
Then he looked into my eyes.
"Very well. I will go with you, Hinata Gin. But before I do, I would speak to each of my descendants here, one by one. When I have finished, I will join you. And together, we will walk this path you have chosen—yours, and my brother's."