(Note: This world is not the original Naruto timeline, so discrepancies in plot and chronology are intentional.)
The sixty-third year since Konoha's founding had been marked by a comfortable, almost lazy, peace. Commerce was booming, the streets were bustling, and for the newest generation of shinobi, the greatest daily threat was boredom.
"There you are!"
The shout, predictably, came from Naruto Uzumaki. He pointed an accusatory finger at a man leaning against the Mission Assignment Desk, his single visible eye crinkling into a lazy smile.
"Kakashi-sensei! Where have you been? You train us for a week and a half and then vanish! We've been stuck weeding gardens and catching cats by ourselves!"
Sasuke Uchiha grunted in agreement from beside him, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, while Sakura Haruno offered their instructor a hesitant wave.
Kakashi Hatake, a man who had mastered the art of being unpunctual and unapologetic, simply waved back. "Ah, sorry, sorry. Things have been a little hectic. All the jonin have been on special assignment lately. It couldn't be helped."
Though the excuse sounded as flimsy as ever, it held a kernel of truth that even Naruto couldn't ignore. The entire shinobi world had been holding its breath for the past three days.
"It's because of that thing in the sky, isn't it?" Sasuke's voice was low and cool, his gaze flicking upwards.
The lazy demeanor vanished from Kakashi in an instant. He followed Sasuke's gaze, his expression hardening. "That's right," he said, his voice dropping to a serious tone. "We have to figure out what it is. If this isn't handled carefully... it could easily trigger another war."
They all looked up.
Hanging silently below the clouds, impossibly vast and utterly featureless, was a perfect rectangle of pure black. It had appeared without warning three days ago, a void in the sky that defied all logic. Intelligence from every corner of the Elemental Nations confirmed the same impossible fact: no matter where you stood, from the Land of Fire to the Land of Water, the obsidian curtain was visible at the exact same angle. It was a constant, unmoving presence.
Shinobi attempts to reach it had failed. Jutsu dissipated harmlessly against its surface. Kunai and projectiles vanished without a trace. It couldn't be touched, approached, or affected. It simply floated there, a silent, cosmic question mark hanging over them all.
And then, as if a switch had been thrown, it lit up.
The chatter of the village streets died instantly. Shopkeepers, civilians, and ninja alike froze, their heads tilting back as one. A collective gasp was followed by a roar of panicked excitement. People spilled out of buildings, pointing and shouting, their voices a rising tide of awe and fear.
"Everyone, calm down! Assess the situation!" Kakashi's command cut through the noise. He instinctively shielded his face, his body tensing for an attack from above as Naruto yelped beside him.
Across the continent, every veteran shinobi had the same reaction. In Sunagakure, Kumo, Iwa, and Kiri, alarms began to sound.
But the phenomenon wasn't limited to their world.
In the ethereal stillness of the Pure Land, the Sage of Six Paths looked up from the mists of departed souls. "What is this power?" he murmured, a deep frown creasing his ancient features. Below him, something unprecedented was happening. "The souls... they are waking."
A flicker of worry crossed his face, and he vanished.
The once-tranquil afterlife was now a scene of confusion. Spirits, previously locked in static repose, were regaining consciousness, questioning their existence, their voices turning the silence into a disoriented murmur.
Among them, one soul's presence burned brighter and colder than any other. Uchiha Madara opened his eyes. The Pure Land? He assessed his state in a nanosecond, ignoring the lesser spirits around him. With a flicker of movement that was pure instinct, he found a secluded outcrop and turned his attention to the new light in the sky.
On the other side of the Pure Land, a different soul stirred. Senju Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, felt a familiar chakra signature. "That feeling... Madara?" A wide, warm grin spread across his face. "I should go say hello!" he thought, already moving to find his old rival, though his own eyes were drawn to the brilliant screen above.
Even in the belly of the Shinigami, where Namikaze Minato was locked in a daily struggle with the Yin-half of the Nine-Tails, the darkness was shattered. A blinding light bloomed in the void.
"What is that!?" Minato shielded his eyes, his mind racing.
Back in Konoha, the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, set his pipe down with a heavy thud. The villages of their rivals would undoubtedly see this as a Konoha plot, given what was now being displayed.
"ANBU," he commanded, his voice grave. "Place the entire village on Level-Two Alert. All active shinobi are to halt their missions and await orders."
This was a tinderbox. Konoha was strong, but its golden age had passed with the Fourth Hokage. The older generation was mostly gone, the new one still green. A war against a single great nation would be a struggle; a coalition would be a massacre.
As the village sirens began to wail, the light in the sky solidified into an image, and a voice, filled with rage and fear, thundered down from above.
["You monster!"]
The image that accompanied it was a dark, cavernous space, lit by the ominous glow of flowing magma. In the center of the frame stood a boy with spiky blond hair, a familiar orange jacket, and a Konoha forehead protector strapped proudly to his brow.
The sharp-eyed ninja in every village saw it instantly.
And on the streets of Konoha, amidst the growing panic, Team 7 stared up in utter disbelief. Sasuke's calm facade finally broke, his eyes wide. Sakura gasped.
And Naruto Uzumaki, seeing his own face projected across the heavens, could only manage a single, dumbfounded word.
"Huh?"
(To be continued...)