The rift pulsed as they approached, each heartbeat of light pulling at the air, at their chakra, at something deeper they could not name. Standing at its edge, Ryo felt like the world was holding its breath.
Boruto cracked his knuckles, forcing a grin. "Alright, let's see what this thing's hiding."
"Stay alert," Sarada warned, adjusting her glasses. Her Sharingan flickered to life, scanning the rippling edges of the rift. "We don't know what's on the other side."
Ryo swallowed, feeling the mark on his wrist burn softly. For a moment, it almost felt like a hand was gripping his arm, urging him forward.
Will of Fire… don't let it die.
He stepped in first.
The world twisted.
The cold rain vanished, replaced by warmth and swirling lights like falling leaves frozen in the air. Chakra hung thick, heavy, yet alive. The ground felt unreal, shifting between the Valley of the End and a forest he didn't recognize, trees ancient and towering, whispering in a language he couldn't understand.
Boruto and Sarada stumbled in after him, Boruto's eyes widening. "Whoa… where even are we?"
Sarada glanced around, Sharingan scanning. "It's like a… memory."
Suddenly, voices echoed around them. Laughter. Shouts. The clash of kunai. For a moment, they saw shadows training, sparring, and walking along familiar streets.
The shadows solidified, forming the blurry image of a man standing with his back turned, a long cloak marked with the kanji for Fire. His spiky hair moved softly with a wind they couldn't feel.
Ryo's breath caught in his throat. "Is that…?"
The figure turned.
Hashirama Senju's eyes, warm yet filled with an ancient sadness, locked onto Ryo's. The First Hokage smiled gently, as if seeing an old friend.
"You've come."
Boruto's jaw dropped. "No way… The First Hokage?!"
Sarada bowed instinctively, her Sharingan shimmering in awe. "Hokage-sama…"
Hashirama looked around at the rift, placing a hand on a tree that glowed softly under his touch. "This place… is a wound. A memory of a time that refuses to die. The Will of Fire calls for help when the world is in danger."
Ryo stepped forward, the mark on his wrist glowing. "Why me? Why are you calling us?"
The First Hokage's eyes met his. "Because you carry the Will within you, even if you don't see it yet. And because the shadows that once threatened this world have found a way back through this rift."
Images flickered in the air—Kaguya's silhouette, the Otsutsuki clan, and a dark, serpentine form whispering promises of endless power.
Boruto clenched his fists. "The Otsutsuki again… They're never done, are they?"
Hashirama shook his head. "This rift is their door. They seek to return, using the remains of our chakra, our memories, as vessels to anchor themselves."
Sarada's eyes hardened. "Then we'll stop them. That's our job as shinobi."
The First Hokage's smile widened, proud and bittersweet. "That is the spirit of the Hokage. But this will not be an easy fight."
The world around them pulsed, and suddenly the warmth vanished. Cold wind howled, and shadows with glowing white eyes began to crawl from the edges of the rift, shapes that looked like twisted versions of fallen shinobi, their faces shifting between strangers and familiar figures.
Ryo stepped back, clutching his kunai. "What are they?"
Hashirama's voice echoed as he began to fade. "They are memories turned to malice, seeking bodies to possess. You must not let them cross back into your world."
As the First Hokage's form vanished completely, the shadows lunged, claws of black chakra tearing toward them.
Boruto jumped forward, rasengan forming in his hand. "Let's go!"
Sarada activated her Sharingan fully, weaving hand seals. "Cover me!"
Ryo felt the warmth of the Will of Fire burning in his chest as he raised his kunai, chakra flowing into the mark on his wrist, and for the first time, it felt like the world wasn't pushing him down—but lifting him up.
"Together!"
And in the rift's storm of memory and malice, Team Boruto, Sarada, and Ryo fought, not just for themselves, but for the Will of Fire that refused to die.