The village was small, grimy, and loud. Nestled at the foot of a mountain range rich in iron ore, the ring of hammers was more common here than the song of birds. It was the perfect place to disappear.
I stood before the open gates of the largest forge. Heat rolled out in waves, searing my face. Inside, a massive man, built like a bear, struck red-hot metal with rhythmic blows.
"I need work," I said, forcing my childish voice to sound steady.
The blacksmith cut his eyes at me without breaking his rhythm. His face was caked in soot, his beard singed in several places.
"I'm not a nanny, kid. Go play somewhere else."
"I'm strong. I eat little. And I'm a fast learner," I countered.
The smith snorted, resting his hammer. He wiped sweat from his brow with a massive palm and stared me down.
"Strong? You're about the height of my anvil."
He pointed to a corner where a pile of scrap iron lay. Atop it sat a massive sledgehammer used for crushing ore. It must have weighed twenty kilograms—an impossible weight for an ordinary nine-year-old.
"Lift that beast over your head, and I'll take you on as an apprentice. If not—get lost."
It was a test of grit. He expected me to strain myself and give up.
I approached the sledgehammer and gripped the handle with both hands. Ether, muscle reinforcement: 5%. I didn't use levitation or telekinesis. I simply reinforced my own muscle fibers and bones. To an outsider, it looked like the strenuous effort of a wiry boy.
"Hrrgh..." I let out a deliberate groan, slowly hoisting the hammer in jerks.
My arms trembled—skillful acting—but I pressed the weight over my head and held it for three seconds. Then, I let it crash to the ground.
The blacksmith's eyes widened. He spat on the floor.
"Demon's seed... Fine. What's your name?"
"Hiro," I gave him the shortened version.
"I'm Goro. Get to the bellows, Hiro. If the fire goes out, I'll roast you in it."
Six months later.
The days blurred into a relentless rhythm: strike, ring, the hiss of steam. To Goro, I was just a talented orphan with an uncanny feel for metal. To me, this was a laboratory.
Every time I touched a piece of ore, I wasn't just holding it. I was threading it with the finest filaments of Ether.
At first, I "saw" only vague outlines—density, hardness. But with every passing day, with every horseshoe forged, my mental microscope grew more powerful.
I learned to see the lattice. I saw iron atoms aligning into structures. I saw the carbon impurities that made steel hard. I saw the air bubbles that needed to be hammered out.
"Replication: Inorganic Matter," I would whisper at night, lying on my straw pallet.
In my palm, hidden under the blanket, a nail would assemble itself from the air—an exact copy of one I had forged that day. At first, it crumbled to dust in a second. Then it held for a minute. Now, it was stable.
But my goal wasn't metal.
One day, Goro cut his hand on the sharp edge of a sheet. Blood dripped onto the anvil.
"Curse it all!" he barked, wrapping his finger in a rag.
While his back was turned to fetch ointment, I quickly swiped my finger through a drop of blood, taking a sample.
Analysis.
Ether surged into the red liquid. Immediately, my brain nearly buckled under the flood of information. This wasn't iron. This was chaos. Billions of connections. Proteins, platelets, plasma. And at the center of it all—DNA. The double helix carrying the information of Goro's ancestors, his eye color, his predisposition for balding.
The complexity of organic matter was orders of magnitude higher.
To copy Kaguya... I need to learn to reproduce this insane symphony of life. Every cell. Every neuron.
I wiped the blood away, but the "imprint" of its structure remained in my memory.
That night in the Training Room, I made my first attempt to create living tissue. I spent hours (days in internal time) trying to recreate just a single drop of Goro's blood. The first hundred attempts resulted in a red sludge that lacked the properties of blood. On the hundred and first, it clotted. On the two-hundredth, I had a perfect biological replica.
"This is only the beginning," I whispered, gazing at the crimson drop hovering in the void. "To create the Body of a God, I must become better than nature itself."
One year later. Goro's Forge.
"You've surpassed me, lad," Goro grunted, examining the sword I had finished that morning.
It was a simple katana. No ornaments. But the blade had a strange, almost bluish shimmer. I hadn't used magic during the forging; I had simply used Ether Vision to strike the metal exactly where the atomic lattice needed aligning. Molecular sharpening.
This sword could cleave stone without dulling.
"I just did my best, Master," I said, wiping my hands on a cloth.
I had grown. I was ten now (biologically closer to twelve). My muscles under my coarse shirt were like braided cables. I had learned to hide my Ether aura so deeply that even if a sensor wandered in, they would take me for a commoner.
My Replication skill had reached "Expert" level. I could copy small animals. In the Training Room, I had already created an exact replica of a rabbit—it lived, breathed, and ate. It had no soul; it was merely a biological puppet, but that was exactly what I needed for the Kaguya swap.
Suddenly, the sound of trumpets drifted from the street.
"An Imperial messenger!" someone shouted in the square.
Goro and I stepped outside. In the central square, a herald was unfurling a scroll with the Chrysanthemum seal.
"Hear the will of the Heavens! The Great Emperor Tenji announces a recruitment for his personal guard! The Land of Ancestors is under threat of invasion by the barbarians of the Land of To! Every worthy man who can wield a weapon must report to the capital!"
I narrowed my eyes. The Land of To. The war that would force Kaguya to intervene.
Events were beginning to accelerate.
"Master," I said quietly. "Thank you for the teaching. But I must go."
Goro looked at me. There was no surprise in his eyes, only sadness. He knew I was a bird meant for a higher flight.
"Take the sword, Hiro. You forged it. It's yours. And try not to die."
I bowed to him. Sincerely. This rough man had given me more than he understood. He had given me time and an understanding of the essence of things.
Now, I was ready to move to the capital. My preparation for the "Vessel" was in full swing, but I needed to be closer to the Epicenter when the Star fell from the sky.
The Capital of the Land of Ancestors. One month later.
My plan for infiltration was as simple as a hammer blow. In an era where iron was poor and swords bent against armor, a master capable of creating an "eternal blade" was valued more than a general.
I came to the palace gates not as a petitioner, but as a merchant of death.
"Go away, boy," a guard waved his hand lazily.
I silently drew my sword. The blade, shimmering with an unnatural bluish light (a result of molecular alignment), flashed in the sun. I approached a weapon rack holding the guard's spear. A light swing. The spearhead, made of crude bronze, fell to the ground, sliced like a dandelion stem. The cut was mirror-smooth.
An hour later, I was standing before the Captain of the Guard. Two hours later, before Emperor Tenji himself.
Tenji was exactly as I remembered him from the anime: stately, striving for peace, but forced to prepare for war. He inspected my sword with unmasked admiration.
"You are too young for such mastery," he noted.
"Age is but a number, Your Majesty. Steel does not ask the age of the hand that holds it," I replied with a bow. "I heard of the war with the Land of To. I wish to serve the Emperor with my talent."
I was accepted. Not as a soldier, but as the Personal Armorer—with the privilege of access to the inner courtyard. My task was to reforge the personal weapons of the Emperor and his generals. It was the perfect position: always nearby, yet "service staff" who are ignored during secret conversations.
My only mistake was impatience. I watched for the falling star every night, but the sky remained clear. Checking the system timer, I realized I still had eight long years ahead of me.
I decided not to waste them.
Years 3-5: The Shadow Behind the Throne. I grew alongside Tenji's empire. My child body, under the influence of Ether and constant training, developed faster than normal. By 12, I looked 16. By 16, I looked 20. I was tall, broad-shouldered, with long white hair tied in a high ponytail. At court, I was no longer just the "armorer boy." I became Master Vi, the Emperor's personal advisor on "security and armaments." Tenji was a soft ruler. Too soft. I became his iron fist. I eliminated spies from the Land of To by staging "accidents" (telekinesis works wonders). I ensured the Emperor looked like a wise peacemaker while I carved away threats from the shadows. He trusted me implicitly.
Years 6-8: Project "Vessel" and "Eden." All this time, I spent my nights in the Training Room. My Replication skill reached "Absolute." I learned to create clones that could live, breathe, and age. But most importantly—I created the "Empty Vessel." In the depths of my inventory lay a biological template. It was the body of a woman, perfectly beautiful, but faceless. I only needed to add Kaguya's DNA when she arrived to complete the copy. I also created "Eden"—a pocket dimension. An oasis of eternal spring hidden in the folds of space. I built a house there. There were no wars there, no Ootsutsuki. It was my golden cage for her.
Present Time. 10 years since Hiroshi's arrival. Location: Balcony of the Imperial Palace. Hero's Age (Biological): 19-20 years.
The night was stifling. The crickets in the imperial garden chirped especially loud. I stood behind Emperor Tenji, arms crossed over my chest. I now wore the official robes of a high official—a dark silk kimono with silver embroidery. My sword, that very first one, hung at my hip.
"Vi," Tenji said softly, gazing at the moonless sky. "The spies report that the army of the Land of To stands at our borders. They want our lands. Is war truly inevitable?"
"Peace is but a breath between wars, Your Majesty," I replied in a calm baritone. "But do not fear. As long as I am by your side, no blade shall touch you."
Tenji smiled, turning to me. "You have become like a brother to me, Vi. I don't know what I would do without your wisdom and your... talents."
At that moment, the System flashed red before my eyes.
[WARNING] > Event: Arrival of the Star Wanderers. Target: Ootsutsuki Kaguya. Distance: Atmospheric Entry. Time to Impact: 10... 9...
"Your Majesty!" My expression shifted sharply as I pointed to the sky. "Look!"
The firmament split. A bright, blindingly white streak of light cut through the darkness, outshining the moon. A roar like a thunderclap shook the palace. The earth trembled.
The object fell in the Bamboo Forest, a few kilometers from the capital.
"What is that? A meteor?" Tenji gripped the railing.
"It doesn't look like it," I said, already throwing on my cloak. "It fell too... softly for a rock. I'll gather a squad. Wait here!"
"No!" Curiosity sparked in Tenji's eyes—the very curiosity that would ruin him in the canon. "I will go myself. This is a sign from the heavens."
I didn't argue. This was part of history.
Bamboo Forest. Crash Site.
We arrived twenty minutes later. The forest around the crater glowed with a strange, ghostly light. The soldiers were nervous; the horses snorted in fear. At the center, among the broken bamboo stalks, she stood.
Ootsutsuki Kaguya.
Now, looking at her not as a child but as a grown man, I understood the scale of the problem. She wasn't just beautiful. She was alien. An aura of such power radiated from her that ordinary humans instinctively wanted to prostrate themselves. Her Byakugan was active. She was frightened, wounded, and ready to kill.
The soldiers raised their bows.
"Lower your weapons!" I barked so sharply that one of the guards dropped his bow.
I stepped forward, shielding Tenji. My gaze met hers. This time, I didn't hide. I allowed the Ether to "leak" slightly through my skin. A barely perceptible violet shimmer formed around me.
She flinched. Her Byakugan saw it. Amidst dozens of "insects," she saw one "equal."
"Who are you?" Her voice rang in our heads, bypassing our ears.
Tenji stepped forward, thinking she was addressing him. "I am the Emperor of these lands, Tenji. I wish you no harm, Heavenly Maiden..."
She didn't even look at him. Her gaze was locked on me.
I bowed my head slightly. Not as a servant, but as a gentleman greets a lady. "My name is Vi Hiroshi," I said aloud, but added mentally on the Ether frequency: 'I am the one who will hide your chakra from those who pursue you.'
That was the key. She was fleeing the Clan. The offer of a mask was the most valuable thing I could give her.
She slowly deactivated her Byakugan. The tension snapped.
"I will go with you," she said coldly.
The Palace. The Beginning of the Approach.
A week passed. Kaguya lived in the Northern Pavilion. Tenji, as dictated by the script, was enchanted by her, showering her with gifts, poetry, and attention. She accepted it with polite indifference. To everyone else, she was the Emperor's concubine. But real life began when Tenji fell asleep.
Night 8. I entered her chambers soundlessly. The guards at the door were asleep—a light mental suggestion. Kaguya was awake. She sat before a mirror, brushing her endless hair.
"You have come." She didn't turn around.
"The Emperor is a good man," I said, sitting on the tatami at a respectful distance. "But he only sees you as a beautiful mystery."
"And what do you see?" She turned. In her eyes, I read the exhaustion of a hunted animal.
"I see one who does not wish to eat the Fruit, but fears that without power, she will not survive." I hit the mark. "I see a woman who wants not power, but peace."
I pulled a small lacquered box from my sleeve. "This is tea. I grew it myself. It helps stabilize the flow of chakra. It is hard for you to breathe our 'dirty' air, I know."
She hesitated for a second, then gestured for me to approach. I brewed the tea. We sat in silence. For the first time, I was this physically close to her. I could smell her—the scent of ozone and cold space.
"You said you could hide me," she said softly, taking a sip.
"I can. My Ether can create a shroud around you. To Isshiki... or Momoshiki... you will become invisible. As if you are merely human."
Her hand trembled. Tea splashed onto the table. "You know their names."
"I know much, Kaguya." I placed my hand over hers. My palm was warm; hers was ice-cold. "I know you are meant to prepare this world for the harvest. But I offer another way."
"What way?"
"A way where you yourself become the master of this world. Not for the Clan. For yourself."
That night, we spoke until dawn. I became her only thread connecting her to a reality where she didn't have to pretend. Tenji was her "day." I became her "night." And I saw the ice in her eyes begin to melt. She was still a haughty goddess, but she had begun to see me as a man worthy of standing beside her.