When Delta's Falna updated in the depths of the Dungeon of Orario, it was not an isolated event. Jonathan's soul was a central server, and his eight avatars were terminals connected to the same broadband network. The increase in Delta's spiritual "vessel" sent a massive update patch across dimensional barriers.
In the Hidden Leaf Village, midnight covered the training forest. Epsilon, now eight years old, knelt on the damp grass, panting. Until moments ago, his chakra channels—the Keirakukei—burned with the threat of rupture every time he tried to fuse elemental manipulation with physical speed.
Suddenly, a phantom wave of heat ran down his spine.
It was not pain.
It was space.
Epsilon opened his eyes, his pupils widening as he felt the microscopic energy channels running through his body expand. The pressure in his chest vanished. The tightness in his muscles—caused by containing too much stamina inside a child's body—completely faded.
System Notification (Sage Core):
Status Synchronization complete.
Baseline vessel expanded by 400% thanks to Excelia assimilation from instance Delta.
Physiological limits recalculated.
Risk of meridian combustion when using high-density Lightning Chakra: Reduced from 97% to 12%.
Epsilon exhaled, and a blue static spark danced across his lips.
He stood.
From his belt he drew a short steel sword—a cheap blade he had bought by saving his allowance—and channeled chakra into it.
Before, the blade would have overheated and melted, or his hands would have burned. Now, using Gamma's Total Concentration Breathing to oxygenate the blood and Theta's Nen compression (Ten) to prevent leakage, the Lightning Chakra flowed calmly from his tenketsu into the metal.
The sword hummed, emitting a controlled, lethal glow.
The chassis can finally support the engine, Epsilon thought.
But theory meant nothing without a stress test.
The next morning, Epsilon walked near the perimeter of the Hyuga Clan compound. He was not spying; the route was simply his usual shortcut to the Academy.
However, the sound of dry impacts and strained breathing stopped him.
Hidden among the branches of a nearby tree, Epsilon observed the clearing.
Hinata Hyuga, covered in dirt and bruises, lay on the ground struggling to breathe.
Standing before her was a Hyuga branch-family instructor, a young Chunin with a severe expression and bulging veins around his pale eyes.
"Your stance is weak, Hinata-sama," the instructor said, his tone a mixture of forced respect and genuine disappointment.
"The Gentle Fist (Juken) requires absolute fluidity. If you hesitate for even a fraction of a second, the energy stagnates. Get up."
Hinata tried to push herself up with trembling arms, but her muscles refused to respond. The instructor had already blocked several of her tenketsu.
"If you cannot defend yourself against me, the outside world will devour you," the instructor continued, stepping forward with two fingers wrapped in visible chakra.
"Again."
Epsilon did not analyze the situation with mathematics.
He remembered Delta's lesson in the Dungeon: fear, intent, the instinct to protect.
He did not use Shunshin.
He simply dropped from the tree, landing silently between the instructor and Hinata.
The Hyuga Chunin froze, activating his Byakugan. Veins bulged around his eyes.
"Who are you?" the instructor demanded, scanning Epsilon's body.
"A civilian Academy student… Move aside, boy. This is an internal Hyuga Clan matter."
Epsilon did not move. His posture was relaxed, arms at his sides.
"Her tenketsu in the deltoids and triceps are blocked," Epsilon said coldly.
"Her sympathetic nervous system is overloaded with pain. If you strike her again with Gentle Fist in this condition, you will cause permanent tissue damage. Forced training destroys the vessel—it does not strengthen it."
The instructor frowned, genuinely surprised that an eight-year-old outsider understood the anatomy of Juken damage.
But shinobi pride was stronger.
"Don't lecture me about anatomy, brat. Move aside—or I'll show you why no one interferes with the Hyuga."
Behind him, Hinata looked at Epsilon's back with wide eyes.
"E-Epsilon-kun… please go… it's dangerous…" she whispered weakly.
Epsilon glanced back at her.
He did not offer the warm smile of a shonen protagonist.
He gave her the gaze of a veteran tactician.
"Watch carefully, Hinata. Water does not break when you strike it."
The instructor, losing patience, lunged forward.
His speed was overwhelming for an Academy child. His chakra-coated fingers aimed directly at Epsilon's chest to disable him.
Cognitive Acceleration Activated (Sage Core).
Attack Analysis: Gentle Fist style.
Impact velocity: 0.15 seconds.
Target: Cardiac chakra network.
Warning: Direct hit will stop cardiovascular flow.
Geometric evasion recommended.
I won't evade, Epsilon decided.
I'll test the shield.
In the fraction of a second before impact, Epsilon executed three cross-commands from the Dream Space.
First: Tekkai (Iron) from Eta. He tensed the muscles of his chest to the limit of fiber density.
Second: Ten (Aura) from Theta. Instead of letting his chakra flow passively, he anchored it to the tenketsu in his chest, forming microscopic spherical energy shields beneath the skin.
Third: Seikuken (Control Sphere) from Beta. He shifted his center of gravity back by only a few centimeters to absorb inertia.
The Hyuga's fingers struck Epsilon's chest.
The Chunin expected to hear the crack of internal blockage and see the child collapse.
Instead, it felt like striking solid rubber wrapped in steel.
His Gentle Fist chakra rebounded off Epsilon's micro-shields, dispersing harmlessly across the epidermis without penetrating the organs.
The instructor's white eyes widened in shock.
"Impossible!"
Before the Hyuga could withdraw his arm, Epsilon's true technique began.
"Friction," he commanded his lungs.
Epsilon inhaled using Gamma's technique. His blood oxygenated instantly.
His right hand rose—not as a fist, but with an open palm. Beta's Jujutsu principles flowed through him.
He grabbed the instructor's wrist.
Through the Byakugan, the Chunin saw something terrifying: the boy's chakra, stagnant a moment ago, suddenly spun like a violent vortex and condensed into his right arm.
Epsilon did not try to strike the Hyuga's tenketsu. He lacked the optical precision.
Instead, he used physics.
He sent a surge of purified Lightning Chakra through the pores of his palm directly into the instructor's skin.
"Architect Style: Muscle Defibrillation."
The lightning was not lethal.
But it was a high-voltage shock delivered straight into the Hyuga's peripheral nervous system.
The instructor's right arm convulsed violently, paralyzing instantly.
The Chunin groaned in pain, stumbling backward and clutching his useless arm.
He looked at the boy with horror and reluctant respect.
What kind of monster was this Academy child?
He had blocked Gentle Fist without moving—and disabled a Chunin's arm with chakra control that would take years of Jonin-level mastery.
Epsilon did not advance.
His chest throbbed painfully—the Tekkai was still imperfect and had caused a serious internal bruise—but he showed nothing on his face.
"Your Gentle Fist assumes the opponent is made of glass," Epsilon said calmly.
"But if the victim's will is denser than your strike… the blow breaks."
The instructor clenched his teeth, evaluating the situation. His right arm was numb, and the boy did not seem winded.
With a sharp click of his tongue, the Chunin gave a stiff bow, acknowledging tactical defeat.
"I will report this, boy."
He leapt away, disappearing into the trees.
Epsilon exhaled deeply.
The pain in his chest finally forced him to kneel.
A bit of blood escaped his lips, reminding him that Delta's server update had given him the capacity, but his body still needed training to avoid self-injury while using Tekkai.
Hinata crawled toward him, panic overcoming the pain in her arms.
"Epsilon-kun… you're bleeding…"
Epsilon raised a hand to stop her, wiping the blood from his mouth.
"I'm fine. Just internal friction."
He stood and turned toward her.
Hinata expected him to say she was weak—that she could never be a ninja—just as her father often implied.
Instead, Epsilon knelt before her and held his hands a centimeter from her arms.
Using a reverse flow, he released a gentle pulse of pure Water Chakra—an extremely rudimentary medical technique he was barely inferring—to massage the blocked tenketsu.
The sharp pain in Hinata's arms slowly faded.
"Don't try to be a rock, Hinata," he said softly, with that ancient, serene gaze that seemed to hold the stars.
"Your instructor strikes with hatred. He expects you to break."
"But you have the flexibility of water. Next time, don't block. Redirect. Let his force pass and use his own momentum to unbalance him."
Hinata stared at him.
Her large pale eyes filled with tears—and a strange new determination.
No one had ever told her she could fight using her gentle nature as a weapon.
They had always demanded hardness.
This quiet boy from the shadows had just handed her the key to her potential.
"W-Water… doesn't break," she repeated softly, absorbing the Architect's philosophy.
Epsilon nodded.
He stood and walked away silently, leaving her with a new path.
He knew his actions had altered the Hyuga clan's variables.
But he did not care.
He had proven the System was evolving—and so were the people around him.
Simultaneously, in a distant galaxy.
On Planet Earth of Universe 7, under the blazing midday sun.
Alpha jogged along a mountain trail carrying a massive forty-kilogram turtle shell on his back. Beside him, a young Goku and an exhausted Krillin did the same, sweating heavily under the watchful—and perverted—gaze of Master Roshi.
Alpha had felt his knees about to give out. His Earth body was reaching the limit of muscular fatigue in this Spartan training.
Suddenly, Delta's update and Epsilon's clash in Konoha echoed through the neural network.
Alpha's physiological limit broke passively.
His muscle fibers, previously on the verge of collapse, suddenly felt light—bathed in a new reserve of stamina shared by his counterparts.
Alpha straightened his back.
The forty-kilogram shell suddenly felt like ten.
His Ki, which he had been carefully containing inside himself, began circulating with joyful, vigorous flow.
Goku glanced at him, noticing the sudden change.
"Hey, Alpha! You suddenly look full of energy!" the Saiyan laughed, speeding up. "Last one to the top doesn't get dinner!"
Alpha didn't respond with arrogance.
Instead, he smiled calmly—genuinely—shaped by the camaraderie of this universe.
He executed Total Concentration Breathing with his expanded lungs and pushed off perfectly from his heel.
He shot forward, overtaking Goku in a clean sprint toward the mountain.
Roshi lowered his sunglasses, watching the boy accelerate with unnatural speed.
"That kid…" the old master muttered.
"He's not a brute-force prodigy like Goku. He's a genius of absolute control."
"It's like his body and mind are one perfect combat machine."
In the Central Nexus, Jonathan observed the multiple monitors.
The gears were turning.
The trials were being overcome through blood, intellect, and sweat.
The Architect was not merely building a system.
He was forging gods from zero.
And the machinery had just been properly oiled.