The sun was already beginning to set as Naruto walked home, his new Konoha forehead protector proudly tied around his head. It was a little crooked, as always—but it felt heavy with meaning. The pride was real, tangible, but oddly laced with a sense of exhaustion. Not physical fatigue—his body still hummed with boundless energy—but a kind of mental weariness. Keeping his powers under wraps, pretending to be the old Naruto, had been more draining than any training session. He'd held back, channeling his new eye to see only what the "normal" world would allow, masking the true depth of his perception.
He collapsed onto his mattress, eyes fixed on the forehead protector.
"I did it," he thought—a simple, powerful truth.
The familiar hunger was still there, a comforting reminder of his "normalcy," but he sensed that his body could now function without it. It was an instinctive, strange knowledge—but undeniable.
He was connected to the source of all things.
The silence of the apartment was soon broken by his restlessness. He had to try—to verify.
"Was it all real?" he murmured.
He got up and began experimenting quietly.
He placed an old pencil on the rickety table beside his bed. Closing his eyes, he focused—not on chakra, but on the subtle energies he could now feel vibrating all around him. He searched for the Extent of Space, that force which defined the position of things. With a gentle nudge of intent, the pencil began to levitate, hovering a few centimeters above the table with no visible effort, no spark of chakra. Naruto opened his eyes. For a moment, his pupils glowed golden and iridescent before shifting back to their usual blue. A stunned smile lit up his face.
"It's real… it's really real!"
Further away, an ugly crack ran along his wall. He placed his hand over it. He didn't think of a jutsu—he thought of the energy of Creation. He felt it: that pure white light—and directed it toward the flaw. In an instant, the plaster reformed, the colors blended back together, and the crack vanished as if it had never existed. The wall was smooth. Perfect.
He withdrew his hand, breathless.
"I can… I can rebuild everything?"
In one corner, a small potted plant—nearly wilted from neglect—was barely clinging to life. Naruto knelt beside it. Through the Eye of the Multiverse, he could see its life aura: faint, fading. He extended a hand above the plant and reached into the Breath of Life, that emerald-green energy. He felt it surge—warm and gentle—into his palm, then spread into the leaves and soil. Before his eyes, the plant straightened, its leaves regained their vibrant color, and a new flower slowly bloomed.
It was magical.
It was far more than chakra.
It was life itself.
These small demonstrations confirmed the truth of his gift. The pure joy of discovery was immense—but it was soon followed by a deep sense of weight.
His thoughts drifted away from the apartment, carried by the currents of the Multiverse. He thought of his parents. Their faces—known to him only in fragments—appeared in his mind. He thought of Jiraiya, his future mentor, and of Minato Namikaze, his father, though he didn't yet know the truth of that bond. He could feel the echo of their existence through the Shadow of Death, a distant connection—but a real one.
And then the voice of the Multiverse echoed through him:
"You could even bring the dead back to life."
A wave of questions—immense and dizzying—washed over him. Brought back to life… His parents? Future friends lost along the way?
Was it ethical?
What would the consequences be for the balance of the world?
He had seen the Light of Creation and the Void of Destruction, Time and Death themselves. He understood, instinctively, that manipulating life and death on this scale wasn't a simple jutsu. It wasn't something to be taken lightly. He already felt the weight of the choice—the colossal responsibility resting on his young shoulders.
Night fell over Konoha, and over Naruto. Moonlight gently bathed his room in silver. He rose and stood by the window, gazing out over the rooftops of the sleeping village. The Konoha headband—symbol of his status as a ninja—was still there, slightly crooked, but proudly worn.
He was still Naruto Uzumaki, the prankster kid who dreamed of becoming Hokage.
But he was also the Guardian of the Multiverse, a being infused with power beyond human comprehension.
The future was uncertain, yes.
But it had never felt so thrilling, so full of possibility.
A mix of fierce determination, deep wonder, and a strange solitude in the face of his vast new destiny filled him.
The world had just become infinitely larger.
And he was ready.