Uchiha Shigure stood silently, the faint glow of his Mangekyō eyes reflecting against the cavern walls of Ryūchi Cave. The three snake priestesses—ancient guardians of this place—watched in hushed awe. They had seen countless shinobi come seeking the power of senjutsu, but never before had one unveiled such impossible abilities.
"Control… time?" one of the priestesses whispered, her elegant brow furrowing. Even for the mystical world of shinobi, this was hard to grasp.
Shigure's expression was calm, but inside, he too felt the weight of discovery pressing against his chest. Slowly, he explained, his voice low yet firm, "Just now, I used the power of my right eye's Mangekyō... the ability to freeze time itself. But the technique has limits. I can't hold it indefinitely. At most… a few seconds."
He closed his right eye briefly, feeling the dull ache spreading from the socket to the temple. "If I exceed three seconds, I feel discomfort. At five seconds, pain. Beyond ten—blindness is almost certain. For now, I can only use it in bursts, with intervals between each attempt."
The priestesses exchanged stunned glances. Time was the foundation of existence. And this young Uchiha wielded it as if it were a weapon to be unsheathed at will.
Shigure continued, half speaking to himself as he pieced together the restrictions. "Three seconds may seem short. But in a ninja battle, a tenth of a second decides life or death. To make an opponent's world stop, even briefly…" He let the thought trail, but the violent potential was obvious. Against any foe stronger than him, three seconds was enough to tilt everything in his favor.
Yet, as awe-inspiring as this ability was, Shigure knew there was something deeper—something even he hesitated to touch. Alongside the power to stop time, his right eye whispered of another, darker art: the reversal of time itself. A technique that could undo the present, turning back the clock. But every fiber of his body screamed danger. He knew instinctively that to attempt it now would drain him utterly, likely taking his sight forever.
"At least… I'll need the power of the Six Paths before I dare," Shigure admitted under his breath. By then, his Mangekyō would evolve into the eternal form, capable of surviving the strain. To achieve that, he would need the blood of the Senju Clan—cells carrying the power to stabilize Hashirama's descendants. Until then, his eyes teetered on a knife's edge.
Drawing a deep breath, Shigure lifted his gaze once more. "Then the name of the right eye's technique shall be… Divine Emperor's Spirit Lord." The name resonated within him, as though the eye itself approved.
With that settled, his attention turned inward—toward the other Mangekyō eye.
"Now… let's test the left eye."
Forming the seals in swift succession, Shigure created a shadow clone. "Attack me with everything you've got."
The clone offered no hesitation. Leaping to create distance, it inhaled, then expelled the bright serpentine blaze of the Uchiha clan's Dragon Flame Singing Technique. Dozens of fire dragons roared toward Shigure, their scales glowing molten red.
The priestesses gasped, retreating immediately. "What is he doing? Why just stand there and—"
"He's testing his powers!" the eldest hissed, ushering the others back. "Keep your distance, or you'll be caught up in his gamble."
Shigure did not flinch. The blazing inferno descended—and then vanished. The flames, as if swallowed, imploded into his left Mangekyō eye, collapsing without explosion or residue. The entire cavern fell silent.
Shigure's lips curled faintly. "So… this eye absorbs ninjutsu." He held out a hand, focusing. "But does it also release it… amplified?"
He formed the words of power instinctively. "Gōkōchōrin Rinzun."
A rush of burning energy surged through his palm as massive, distorted flame dragons exploded outward—larger, faster, and more furious than those fired by the clone. In an instant, they consumed the clone in a thunderous roar. The shockwave rattled Ryūchi Cave, fragments tumbling from the ceiling.
The priestesses shuddered. Even they, immortals steeped in natural energy, felt fragile before the boy's blazing storm.
Shigure's eyes gleamed with realization. "It doesn't only absorb. It creates an amplification field. The moment ninjutsu enters it, my left eye devours it, augments it, and returns it in full force. Unlike Momoshiki, I don't need to switch hands or delay. I can release it instantly, from either side."
He mulled the implications. Against ordinary shinobi, it was near invincible. Since almost all relied on ninjutsu, a single confrontation within his field would spell their ruin. Still, he wanted clarity. "So… where exactly does the absorbed ninjutsu go?" Was it transformed inside his body? Or was it… something else?
The answer came when he pushed further.
Another clone appeared, this one forming a colossal Rasengan, infused with senjutsu chakra until it became a blinding Super-Odama Rasengan. The moment it touched Shigure's aura, the sphere winked out—devoured by his left eye. But this time… Shigure felt it. A ripple of space itself, an instant tear that vanished as quickly as it came.
He tensed. Space. Not body. His eye commanded its own dimension.
"I see… Gao Kōchōrin Rinzun isn't mere ninjutsu reflection. It's a space technique!"
To confirm, he hatched a mad plan. Summoning another clone, he marked it with the seal of the Flying Thunder God. "When you strike, I'll follow."
The clone lunged, driving the massive Rasengan toward him. Shigure allowed the sphere to sink into the field—then simultaneously invoked his right eye. "Divine Emperor's Spirit Lord!" Time froze. Clone, Rasengan, even the swirl of chakra blades hung unmoving.
In this lonely pocket of stillness, Shigure activated Flying Thunder God, flashing directly into the eye's absorption field. For an instant, his consciousness bent unnaturally—and then he slipped inside.
Reality warped. Both Shigure and the Rasengan were sucked into the abyss of his left Mangekyō. The stillness shattered. When he opened his eyes again, he was… elsewhere.
Space pressed around him, immense and foreign. A dim, endless horizon stretched beneath a sky choked in ashen fog. Crimson spider lilies bloomed in clusters, each flower pulsing with eerie light. Shigure's breath caught—his chakra was leaking, dissipating as though the very air consumed it. And yet, paradoxically, the atmosphere was thick with raw chakra, manifesting almost physically in droplets that shimmered on the lilies' petals.
"This place… devours and replenishes chakra at once," he murmured uneasily. "The unique environment enhances jutsu. That's how the amplification works."
A chill crept up his spine. This wasn't his space at all—it was something ancient, waiting long before his eyes awoke. A realm linked to the Mangekyō itself.
As he advanced cautiously, distant whispers fluttered in the fog. Shapes moved among the lilies—distorted, shifting things that scraped claws across unseen stone. Each footstep echoed unnaturally, the world groaning in response.
Shigure stiffened. "I can still sense the Flying Thunder God marker back in Ryūchi Cave… so I can return. But before I retreat, I need to see what lurks here."
The whispers grew louder, no longer faint but many, circling. From the mist came laughter—dry, rasping, and inhuman. Shadows converged, forms skittering into the edges of vision. The spider lilies trembled as the chakra-rich air twisted into a storm.
Shigure set his jaw, Mangekyō flaring bright scarlet. He had uncovered the truth of his dual eyes: the right that shackled time, the left that commanded an alien domain. But whatever called this place home…
It had noticed him.
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