The skies above the fractured world shimmered unnaturally, threads of ancient power coiling through clouds like serpents stirring from slumber. Lightning cracked in colors unseen by mortal eyes, and the wind carried whispers—memories of gods who once shaped the stars.
In the aftermath of the Civitas Prime assault, silence reigned over the shattered vault. The once-pristine walls were now marked by the scorched remnants of battle. Gojo stood amidst the debris, his coat billowing with the residual force of his last technique. Behind him, the containment pod labelled PROJECT: KAKAROT hummed faintly, its internal systems blinking erratically.
He didn't smile now.
Blood trailed from his lip as he walked toward the unconscious Saiyan, the air growing heavier with each step. The boy's power—raw, unstable—pulsed with every breath. Not just Ki. Not chakra. Not cursed energy. It was something deeper. Something buried in the bones of the world itself.
Gojo placed his palm on the glass. "You're more than a relic," he murmured. "You're a weapon. Or a key."
Outside the ruins of Civitas Prime, an alliance was forming.
Naruto, Sasuke, and Goku stood side by side on a cliff overlooking the city. The earth beneath them was scorched, but the sky above still wept golden light from Kakarot's awakening. Goku's eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon.
"That energy… it doesn't belong to this time," he said.
Naruto glanced at him. "You mean Kakarot?"
"No," Goku said slowly. "Something else woke up when he did. Something old. Something angry."
Before they could speak further, a voice echoed across the land—a psychic pulse felt by warriors and monsters alike.
"They gather like ants beneath thunderclouds… Let them come. Let them remember."
Thousands of miles away, deep beneath the ocean floor, a prison forged in myth stirred for the first time in ten thousand years. Seven colossal chains, each made from a different form of energy—chakra, haki, cursed energy, ki, divine will, instinct, and void—snapped one by one. With each snap, the world trembled.
And then… it opened.
A black tomb larger than any mountain creaked apart. From the darkness within, something breathed.
A single word boomed across dimensions:
"ENERGIA."
Back on the high seas, Luffy and Saitama were locked in battle with Admiral Kizaru, whose body flickered like a thousand suns trapped in a man. Beams of pure light carved trenches in the ocean, vaporizing waves before they could crash.
Luffy grinned wildly as he dodged another beam. "He's fast," he said.
Saitama sighed as his cape fluttered behind him. "So are flies."
In a blur, Kizaru appeared behind them. "You think this is a game, pirate? Bald man?"
Saitama turned. "Kinda."
A punch ended the sentence.
It didn't hit Kizaru—he dodged, but the shockwave tore the sea in half, sending tidal walls crashing in every direction. For a moment, light itself seemed to retreat from Saitama's presence.
Kizaru reappeared, panting.
"Impossible…" he whispered.
Luffy stretched his arms, grinning. "Looks like your shine's getting dull."
Meanwhile, far in the ruins of a once-holy temple within the Hidden Leaf Zone, Sakura knelt beside an ancient mural, tracing its symbols with trembling fingers. "These markings… they're not just chakra-related. They predate shinobi history."
Kakashi stepped beside her, reading the same lines.
"The gods of old," he said quietly. "They weren't gods. They were the first wielders of Energia. They didn't split it… they were split by it."
"And someone's trying to put it all back together," Sakura finished.
Atop the temple, Boruto and Sarada stared up at the sky, where the stars had begun to blink unnaturally—patterns forming that mirrored the symbols on the walls below.
"Dad's not gonna like this," Boruto muttered.
Sarada nodded. "Then we'd better fix it before he finds out."
Back in the heart of the void between realms, Blackbeard's throne pulsed with malevolence. Dark tendrils extended across the multiverse, feeding on collapsed timelines and erased futures. Behind him, figures cloaked in the colors of forgotten empires whispered predictions and prophecies.
"Seven echoes rise," one intoned.
"Seven truths bleed," another answered.
Blackbeard stood, arms wide, absorbing the energies as if he were a god reborn. His voice rolled like thunder made of nightmares.
"Let the gods rise," he declared. "Let the world burn its false peace. We are the next pantheon."
He turned to the shadows behind him.
"Begin Project Omega."
And so it did.
Across the world, shrines long buried beneath sand and sea awakened. Giant doors slid open beneath the deserts of Sunakagure. Islands vanished from the Grand Line, revealing hidden chambers powered by forgotten Devil Fruits. The Hero Association detected untraceable energy signatures far beyond their sensors.
All of it… leading to one conclusion:
Energia wasn't just rising.
It was remembering.