Chapter 1: The Boy Who Returned
Year 128 of the Hidden Leaf.
A nameless island, a hundred miles from the Land of Water.
Deep inside a cave, the dim flicker of candlelight cast trembling shadows on stone walls. On a rough stone bed lay an old man, hair white as snow, face lined with age and sorrow. He was barely clinging to life.
If it weren't for those unmistakable blue eyes, and the three whisker marks etched into each cheek, no one would have guessed—
This was Naruto Uzumaki, the Seventh Hokage.
A man who had risen from ridicule and loneliness, stood at the height of glory, only to return to the ashes of ruin.
At twelve, he graduated the Ninja Academy and earned his forehead protector.
At sixteen, he defeated Pain and became Konoha's hero. That same year, alongside Sasuke Uchiha, he sealed away Kaguya and ended the Fourth Great Ninja War, ushering in a fragile peace across the shinobi world.
But peace was short-lived.
After Kaguya came the likes of Kinshiki, Momoshiki, Urashiki... then Jigen, Code, and beyond. The Otsutsuki threat only grew stronger, more terrifying with each passing generation.
In a brutal battle against Isshiki Otsutsuki, Naruto lost Kurama—his partner, his power, his heart. Sasuke, too, paid dearly, losing the Rinnegan in the same war.
Left with no other choice, they placed their hopes in the new generation.
In Boruto.
And Boruto fulfilled that hope. Through battles, loss, and harsh experience, he awakened his own power—Jougan in one eye, and a fragment of Momoshiki's strength in the other. He surpassed even his father at his prime. He became the savior of the shinobi world, resolving crisis after crisis, restoring hope to a broken era.
But then came… him.
Shinshiki Otsutsuki. A monster far beyond even Kaguya.
He didn't just defeat them—he erased their legacy. His power was overwhelming. Against him, the united might of every shinobi village wasn't even a spark in the storm.
They lost.
Comrades. Friends. Lovers. Children.
Everyone Naruto fought to protect—gone.
And their final words still haunted him.
"Naruto, our power isn't enough…"
"Naruto-kun… please, forgive me. I can't go on with you…"
"Father… I tried… I really did…"
"Lord Seventh! Retreat! You're our last hope—please!!"
On the verge of death, the Hidden Cloud used a forbidden technique to spirit him away.
When he opened his eyes again, the war was over.
The world was nothing but scorched earth and silence.
He screamed.
He wept.
And then… he wandered.
For years, he lived in exile—powerless, broken, alone.
Until today.
Now, in this cold, dark cave, he lay on his deathbed.
Beside the flickering candle sat an ancient tortoise—a relic of the Otsutsuki clan. A time-warping artifact once known as Plow… though Naruto had long since taken to calling it Li.
Or at least, it used to be.
Plow was broken—its power to bend time lost, its voice silenced long ago.
Naruto had no one left. Not a soul to speak to. Only Plow remained—his last companion, his final listener.
"Hey, Li…" Naruto's voice was like sandpaper, soft and dry. "My greatest mistake… was underestimating that clan's power."
The truth had come crashing down on him during those final battles.
Far beyond the sky, beyond even the limits of chakra, was a world called Takamahara—the true origin of the Otsutsuki. On that world, Kaguya was nothing. There were beings there—dozens—each far stronger than her.
"We sealed Kaguya. Beat Momoshiki. I thought that was the ceiling. I believed that if we just stood together… we could beat anything."
He coughed hard. Blood splattered his lips.
"…We were wrong from the start. Even the Sage of Six Paths didn't have all the answers. Kaguya… she wasn't paranoid. She was afraid. And now, everything she feared has come to pass…"
The candle flickered lower. His vision dimmed.
And then—after all these years—
Plow spoke.
"If you had the chance to do it all again… would you seek revenge?"
Naruto blinked. Was this real? A final hallucination? A dying man's last dream?
Still, he answered.
"…No. Revenge only leads to more hatred. I won't walk that path. But if I could go back… I'd do anything to gain the strength to protect them. Anything."
"At any cost?" Plow murmured. "That doesn't sound like the Naruto I knew."
Naruto smiled weakly, closing his eyes.
"That idealistic Naruto—the one who believed in hope, who never gave up… he died the day Konoha fell."
A heavy silence followed.
Then—
"Maybe…" Plow whispered. "I can grant that wish."
Naruto stirred. "Can you really… take me back?"
"Only your soul. One-way trip. No return. You'll be stuck in the past—forever. Even so… will you go?"
Naruto gave a hoarse laugh. "There's nothing left here… why would I want to come back?"
"Then reach out your hand."
With the last of his strength, Naruto reached forward. His hand trembled. His chakra was almost gone.
But it was enough.
Hum—!
Plow glowed faintly.
In the next breath, Naruto's soul was torn from his dying body.
A torrent of time swallowed him whole.
Whoosh.
The candle's flame went out.
Naruto had died.
Crack. Crack—!
Plow's shell fractured. It had fulfilled its final purpose.
"Across endless timelines, I've seen many versions of you, Uzumaki Naruto. If anyone can stop their tyranny… it's you. Try again—on a different path, in a different time."
Naruto's consciousness spiraled through the void.
And then—
He opened his eyes.
Gray fog. A sealed space.
In his hands… was a worn book. The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi by Jiraiya.
In front of him sat Nagato, gaunt and pale, atop his mechanical throne. Konan stood silently beside him.
What…?
Was this… a dream?
Naruto pinched his leg—hard.
Pain.
No. This wasn't a dream.
Nagato's voice cut through the haze.
"If the protagonist changes, so does the story."
"We were both students of Jiraiya. I believed we could understand each other…"
"But maybe that was just my wishful thinking."
"You're… a strange one."
"You remind me of who I used to be."
Konan tensed. Something felt off.
"I couldn't believe Jiraiya. No… I couldn't even believe myself."
"But you—Naruto Uzumaki—I'll try trusting you."
With those words, Nagato tore his hands from the black rods—blood pouring out.
"Rinne Rebirth!"
"Nagato!!" Konan cried, rushing to him.
He turned to her with a peaceful smile. "It's enough, Konan. This… is the choice I once abandoned."
Naruto's heart thundered in his chest.
This moment—he remembered it. Vividly.
The exact point where Nagato used Rinne Rebirth to revive the villagers of Konoha.
Only this time, Naruto wasn't the same boy.
He was Naruto… returned from the end of the world.
He looked at his trembling hands, at the sweat soaking Jiraiya's book—then gripped it tighter.
He was back.
The past was real.
The future, unwritten.
Konan knelt beside Nagato, eyes full of tears. She looked at Naruto—the boy who had changed it all.
Nagato whispered, his body already fading.
"War takes from both sides… The pain of losing someone important—it never goes away…"
"And those who don't understand war… don't understand what death truly means."
"Hate, pain, loss… they're all part of the cycle. That's war."
"Naruto… that's what you'll face."
"But if it's you… maybe… just maybe…"
His body dissolved into paper, scattering like leaves in the wind.
Naruto bowed his head. Tears slid down, hidden beneath his bangs.
"I get it now, Nagato. I truly get it."
"Your pain… your words… they cut deeper now than ever before."
"But that's why—this time—I won't fail."
From the shadows, Nagato's voice echoed one last time:
"The book… you… everything… maybe it was all arranged. Or maybe… it was fate."
Konan stepped forward, her paper cloak fluttering with chakra.
Suddenly—
Snap!
Naruto grabbed the tiny white slug hidden on his shoulder and crushed it in his fist.
"Ah!!" the slug shrieked, vanishing into smoke.
Konan froze. "Naruto…?"
Naruto turned to her, voice low and steady.
"The next part of this conversation… isn't for others to hear."
"Konan-senpai—for the future of the shinobi world… I want to inherit Nagato's Rinnegan."