Indra's silent, internal tirade against the system lasted for a solid ten minutes. He mentally dissected its programming, questioned its parentage in binary code, and envisioned various ways to uninstall it from his soul, all while the cosmic egg pulsed serenely in his hands, a tranquil sun oblivious to the storm raging in its guardian's mind.
Seven or eight Big Bangs. It might as well ask me to bottle the concept of time itself, he fumed, slumping back against the wall, the heat from the egg now a familiar, mocking comfort. Despair began to creep in, a cold tendril threatening to extinguish the fiery frustration. He had been given the ultimate key, only to find the lock was on the other side of a dimensional barrier.
But then, a spark. A single, logical connection fired in the hyper-accelerated neural pathways of his Six Eyes.
Wait. The system said it needed Cosmic Energy. Primordial Energy. Natural Energy. They're all different names for the same fundamental force.
His gaze, previously clouded with rage, sharpened. He looked inward, at the tripartite vision of his evolved eyes. He saw the vibrant flow of Chakra, the lifeblood of shinobi. He saw the stagnant, oily pools of Cursed Energy, the psychic residue of human suffering. And he saw the shimmering, omnipresent fabric of Primordial Energy, the true substrate of reality.
Cursed Energy… His mind raced, calculations running at light speed. In a world like Jujutsu Kaisen, this level of constant warfare, betrayal, and hatred would produce Cursed Spirits of catastrophic power. Here, without that specific metaphysical law, the energy doesn't coalesce into monsters. It just… exists. A vast, untapped ocean of negativity, slowly, inefficiently being broken down and converted by the world itself into benign chakra and natural energy.
An audacious plan, born of sheer necessity, crystallized in his mind.
I can't create the energy of a Big Bang. But I can be a catalyst. The Six Eyes can perceive and manipulate all energy at a fundamental level. What if… I don't wait for the world to convert it? What if I do it myself?
It was a gamble of cosmic proportions. He was proposing to take the psychic pollution of an entire world, the concentrated misery of the Warring States Era, and refine it into the pure, creative force needed to birth a god.
Taking a deep, centering breath, he closed his eyes. He ignored the Chakra, the familiar energy of his clan. He ignored the Primordial Energy, the goal. He focused entirely on the Cursed Energy.
With his Six Eyes, it was horrifically visible. A miasmatic fog clung to the Uchiha compound, a legacy of recent battles and internal strife. Thicker tendrils reached out from the direction of the Senju lands, from every battlefield he had ever set foot on. It was a global stain, a testament to the era's brutality. If the laws of Jujutsu Kaisen applied, this world would be drowning in Special Grade curses.
He extended his will, not as a shinobi, but as a fundamental force. He didn't draw the energy to himself; that would be suicidal. Instead, he became a conduit, a transcendental filter. He pinpointed a dense pocket of Cursed Energy hovering over a nearby training ground where a fatal spar had occurred years ago. With the precision of a surgeon, his Six Eyes isolated it, and then, applying a principle he understood from his mastery of energy conversion, he began to transmute it.
It was like alchemy on a spiritual level. The dark, viscous, hate-filled energy was unraveled at the sub-atomic level. The "curse" was stripped away, the negative emotional resonance purified, leaving behind only raw, potent, unaligned power—Pure Natural Energy.
Holding his breath, he gently directed this newly refined stream towards the egg in his lap.
The effect was instantaneous and profound.
The egg, which had been pulsing with a steady, solar rhythm, seemed to shudder. The swirling patterns on its shell flared with a hungry, golden light. It didn't just absorb the energy; it devoured it. The stream of Natural Energy was sucked in with an almost audible gasp, like parched earth drinking the first rain after a decade-long drought.
A wave of exhilaration so powerful it left him dizzy washed over Indra. It worked! By the Sage, it actually worked!
The task was Herculean. The energy requirement was still astronomical. But it was no longer impossible. It was a matter of scale and time. He was no longer waiting for universes to be born and die; he was a cosmic janitor, cleaning the spiritual filth of one world to fuel the birth of a new divinity. The irony was not lost on him.
He spent the rest of the night in a deep trance, methodically locating and purifying Cursed Energy, channeling it into the insatiable egg. By dawn, he was mentally exhausted, but filled with a resolute purpose. He had found his path.
The next day, he sought out his father. He found Tajima in his study, now adapted to his new, lesser vision with a grim acceptance.
"Father," Indra began, his voice firm. "I will be leaving the clan for a time. I must undertake a training journey to master Sage Mode."
The announcement landed in the quiet room like a stone. Tajima looked up, his three-tomoe eyes narrowing. "Sage Mode? That is a legendary power, Indra. The risks are immense. Few have ever succeeded."
"I am not 'few', Father," Indra replied, a quiet confidence in his tone that brooked no argument. "My path requires it. To achieve the future I seek, I need every tool. I will return, but it may take years."
Tajima studied his son. He saw the new, unshakable resolve in his posture, the faint, otherworldly luminescence that seemed to cling to him since his surgery. He knew better than to try and dissuade him. When Indra Uchiha set his mind to something, the world itself bent to his will.
"Very well," Tajima said, a grudging respect in his voice. "Go. Become stronger. The clan will endure in your absence. Just… return to us, my son."
Next, he found Madara and Izuna, who were sparring with a ferocity that spoke of their newly awakened Mangekyou and the intensive mental conditioning he had drilled into them.
"Brothers," Indra called, halting their match.
They turned, their shared eyes—Madara's fierce fans, Izuna's intricate pinwheel—fixing on him.
"I am leaving," he stated simply. "I go to train, to master a power that will secure our clan's future beyond any battlefield victory."
Madara's chest puffed out. "We are strong enough now, brother. Together, we can lead the Uchiha to glory!"
Indra placed a hand on Madara's shoulder. "Glory is a fleeting flame, Madara. I charge you with something greater: protection. Lead the clan, yes. But protect every member. From the strongest warrior to the weakest child. Your strength is not for conquest; it is for the shield."
He then turned to Izuna, his gaze intensifying. "Izuna. Your mind is your greatest weapon. I have a personal charge for you." He leaned in, his voice dropping. "Protect Uchiha Rai and her family. Watch over them as if they were your own. Kenta's sacrifice must be honored with our unwavering vigilance. Do you understand?"
Izuna, ever the perceptive one, nodded solemnly, understanding the deep, personal weight of this request. "I will guard them with my life, brother."
Satisfied, Indra gave them both a final, firm nod before turning away. His path was clear.
That evening, he stood atop a lonely mountain peak, the wind whipping through his brilliant white hair. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. He didn't have to wait long.
A soft swish of air, and she was there.
Tōka landed beside him, her presence a balm to his soul. She took one look at his determined face and knew.
"You're leaving," she said, not a question, but a statement.
"I must, Vidya," he replied, using her true name, the sound a sacred thing between them. "The egg… it requires a pilgrimage. And I must learn Sage Mode to fully control the power growing within me."
He reached out, taking her hands in his. His expression grew deadly serious. "While I am gone, you must be more vigilant than ever. I have sensed a presence, a shadow that moves between our clans. I have seen it five, perhaps seven times. A being of pure malice I know only as Black Zetsu."
Tōka's eyes widened. "Black Zetsu? The… the one from the story?"
"Yes," Indra confirmed, his voice a low whisper. "He is real. And he is moving, manipulating events just as in the canon we know. His goal is the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He will stop at nothing to see it enacted." He squeezed her hands. "Protect Izuna. Especially from Tobirama. My brother is strong, but Tobirama's Flying Thunder God is a treacherous technique. Do not let history repeat itself."
He looked out over the darkening landscape, towards the future. "I will return in four, maybe five years. And when I do, I will be more than just a shinobi. We will build Konoha, Vidya. But our Konoha will not be a fragile dream. It will be a fortress of peace, stronger than anything the original story could have imagined. A true haven."
Tōka looked into his eyes, the eyes that held universes and a love that had crossed the void. She saw the weight he carried, the burden of foresight and power. She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly.
"Come back to me, John," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Come back quickly. I am strong, but I cannot protect everyone alone. The main game is starting, and I feel it. We know the script of Naruto and Boruto, but this world… it has its own secrets, its own horrors we know nothing about. We are playing in the dark. Please, come back to me soon."
He held her, memorizing the feel of her, the scent of her hair. "I will," he vowed. "I promise."
They shared a kiss then, under the emerging stars, a seal on their promise, a connection that defied clans, time, and destiny itself.
When they parted, Indra took a step back, the cosmic egg safely stored in a specially prepared scroll. He looked one last time at the woman he loved, at the clan he was leaving behind, at the world he was sworn to protect.
A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. The calm before the storm.
"The game," Indra Uchiha said, his voice carrying on the wind, "it begins."
And with a final, powerful surge of chakra, he was gone, vanishing into the twilight, a god in training, heading into the unknown to hatch a sun and forge his own destiny. The board was set, the players were moving, and the hidden king had just left to claim his power.
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