Deep beneath the surface of Country R, under the city of Dongjing, a massive underground theater had been transformed into a deadly battleground. The area, illuminated by blinding white lights, seemed sterile and surreal. So harsh was the lighting that even shadows had vanished. Sirens blared relentlessly, their echoes clashing against the concrete walls, adding to the sense of chaos and urgency.
Bullets crafted from rare MAN metal whizzed through the air.
Tom was running for his life.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
He had been set up.
Designed by others to die here.
Throwing aside his shattered sword, Tom gritted his teeth and dived behind a rusting machine. "Let me go back alive," he cursed under his breath, "and I'll drag every last one of you down. You think you can kill me, bastards? Try harder."
From the other end of the room, a calm and mocking voice echoed, bouncing eerily through the chamber. "Tom-san, do you still hope to escape? Ascend to heaven, perhaps?"
"Who the hell are you?! Stop hiding in the shadows!" Tom shouted, pressing his back against the cold steel, trying to pinpoint the source.
The voice chuckled. "How rude of me. I invited you here after all, and I haven't even introduced myself properly. I am Fujiwara Norihide, Deputy Head of the Imperial Household Department of Country R. My specialty? Handling supernatural incidents."
Tom's eyes narrowed. "Handling? Or creating them?"
Fujiwara continued, ignoring the jab. "This invitation—let's call it that—was extended because we need something from you. Specifically, a little genetic sample."
Tom's lip curled in disgust. "You expect me to believe this was all for a 'sample'? Who's helping you? No way you set all this up without help from the inside."
"Sharp as ever, Tom-san," Fujiwara said with an amused tone. "But where's the fun in giving you the answers? Isn't it more satisfying to figure it out yourself? That's how you like it, right? Piecing together the broken clues?"
Tom clenched his fists. "So it's true. Someone sold me out."
A memory rose in his mind, unbidden and heavy. His old captain's voice echoed in his ears:
"Tom, your strength is undeniable. But strength without wisdom breaks too easily. Sometimes, you must ride the current and watch your steps."
He smiled bitterly. Yeah, you were right, Captain. But I've always been this way. Reckless, headstrong. Maybe this is my last job—and if I live through it, I'll spend the rest of my life far away from this madness.
He looked up, resolute. "So the SSSS-level mission was a fake. And the Chiyan Golden Beast gene sample—it was bait."
"Fake?" Fujiwara sounded amused. "Tom-san, your intelligence network wouldn't fall for a fake. The sample is real—but incomplete."
"Treacherous bastard," Tom muttered, relaxing slightly and lowering himself to the ground in surrender, a small grin on his face.
"Thank you for the compliment," Fujiwara replied with chilling politeness.
"You've said enough," Tom said quietly. "I'm guessing everything's already in place."
He knew death was near. But something strange happened then.
His senses sharpened. The fog in his mind cleared.
That mysterious sixth sense—one he'd honed through countless life-and-death situations—whispered something odd. A peculiar certainty that he wouldn't die. Not yet.
Fujiwara's voice crackled through the intercom once more, now sounding more like an omen. "Did you feel it too? The time has come. I hope you enjoy the I43968 electromagnetic beam. Farewell, Tom-san."
Suddenly, the underground chamber exploded into chaos.
Giant arcs of electricity surged between the ceiling and the floor. Beams of concentrated current lit up the room in a deadly dance of light and power. Tom tried to move—but couldn't. He was completely immobilized by the pressure of the electromagnetic beams. Every nerve in his body screamed in pain.
Muscles were scorched, only to regenerate moments later.
The soldiers who had pursued him—elite special forces—were obliterated instantly, reduced to ashes before they could react.
And then the real transformation began.
Inside the wound on Tom's abdomen, the gene sample of the legendary Chiyan Golden Beast responded to the extreme electrical surge. It ruptured, releasing its mysterious energy into his body.
The genes reacted violently. Blood boiled, muscle tissue tore and regrew, bones cracked and reformed. The electric field wrapped around Tom like a cocoon, feeding the transformation.
In a hidden control room above, Fujiwara Norihide observed the scene unfold on a dozen screens. He noticed something strange. Despite the I43968 beam, Tom wasn't dying.
Instead, something else was happening.
A rune—shaped like a flickering flame—began to glow on Tom's right side. Slowly, it spread across his entire body.
Fujiwara narrowed his eyes. "He's adapting… No. Evolving."
One of his aides rushed in. "Sir, we must initiate the self-destruct sequence. If he survives this… an immortal warrior would pose a catastrophic risk to the empire."
"Agreed," Fujiwara replied coldly. "Do it."
The alarm screamed across the facility.
"Warning! Self-destruct sequence activated. All personnel evacuate immediately. Countdown: 15 minutes."
Apart from the screaming electromagnetic beams, the cold, mechanical voice was the only sound left in the room.
Inside Tom's mind, reality twisted.
He was no longer in the theater, but floating in a strange sea of orange and gold flames. Above him stretched a sky composed of writhing currents of electricity. Fire and lightning collided, roared, danced.
In the distance, a low growl echoed—deep, bestial, and ancient.
"Who am I…?" Tom whispered, drifting in this surreal space. "Where is this place?"
As soon as he spoke, the flames and electricity shifted. They noticed him.
And then, like creatures with purpose, they rushed at his soul. They did not devour—they merged. They became one with him.
His essence ignited.
Outside, the countdown neared its end.
3 minutes. 2 minutes.
Across southern Kyoto, power began to fail.
Block after block plunged into darkness. Hospitals, homes, neon-lit streets—all lost their light. Entire districts shut down, paralyzed.
Tokyo's southern grid collapsed, equivalent in energy drain to a small hydroelectric dam's output over a month.
10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0.
BOOM!!
The explosion tore through the underground facility with a force that split the ground above. Fire roared upward, consuming everything in its path. The old theater above was instantly vaporized. The few who hadn't made it out in time were reduced to ashes.
A charred movie poster flitted across the burning air like a dying memory.
"Naruto Theatrical Edition: Road to Ninja" it read, now only half legible.
The sky, already gray, grew darker.
Thunder rolled ominously overhead, as though the heavens themselves were mourning the loss of one man—Tom.
But Tom did not die.
Not truly.
Somewhere deep within the void of fire and lightning, something new had been born.