Chapter 1: Beneath the Dream
Music filled the young man's ears, his headphones set at the perfect volume—loud enough to drown out the cabin, quiet enough to keep the sound to himself. He stared out the airplane window through hazy eyes and let out a slow sigh.
It had been a normal flight.
Mostly.
The turbulence during takeoff had been brutal, violent enough to make the plane groan as if it might shake itself apart, but it had passed. Now there was only the steady hum of the engines and the faint vibration beneath his seat.
He let the melody pulse through him, easing the tight knot in his chest. He had never liked flying. Being suspended miles above the ground always pushed him dangerously close to an anxiety attack.
The song ended. Another began.
He gave a quiet, nervous chuckle. "Beneath…" He took a steadying breath. "Kind of ironic, all things considered."
A flight attendant rolled her cart down the aisle, the wheels rattling softly. He glanced to his left. The seat beside him was occupied—one other passenger, asleep. He'd splurged for business class, telling himself it was a reward.
The attendant stopped beside them. "Would either of you like something to drink? Water, coffee, soda?"
She met his eyes.
His stomach fluttered violently.
"Uh—" A memory flashed through his mind: him and his best friend at a Whataburger, his bald idiot of a friend confidently walking up to a woman and opening with, your number? He swallowed, all borrowed confidence evaporating. "A-a Coke, please."
She smiled and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she handed him a can and a cup of ice. "Here you go. Let me know if there's anything else you need during the flight."
He bit the inside of his lip, hesitating—then she was gone.
He leaned back in his seat, silently berating himself, and slipped his headphones on again. The song resumed halfway through IridescentArmor, and he let himself relax.
For six seconds.
Then chaos erupted.
The world lurched.
Sound vanished.
And everything went black.
---
Darkness.
Complete and total darkness.
His thoughts were sluggish, scattered, barely holding together.
"Agghh… w-what happened?"
His body drifted—no, floated—through a space that felt neither alive nor dead. Limbo.
It wasn't cold, as some might imagine. Nor was it the searing heat of hell. It was warm. Comforting. The sensation wrapped around his consciousness like a blanket, pulling him deeper into stillness.
Time passed, though he couldn't tell how much. Moments blurred together, fading in and out as the void embraced him. Eventually, even the universe itself seemed to collapse inward—creation and destruction folding into one another until nothing remained.
Someday, perhaps, something new would rise from that nothing.
He would never see it.
As he drifted, a voice echoed through his thoughts.
Who are you?
"I—I don't remember," he replied.
Then why do you linger? Surely, you are ready to move on.
He answered honestly, warmth tightening around him. "But… it's relaxing here. I like it."
Aren't you bored? You must want more than to float here forever.
"I… maybe?" He shifted uneasily, the comfort slipping away like waking on a cold winter morning. "It's just so warm. I don't… want to wake up."
Then why not dream?
"I could do that, couldn't I?"
The voice didn't answer, but he felt its agreement.
You can dream of anywhere. Where would you go?
He thought for a moment. "M-my friends and I liked—what was it… Naruto. We played D&D, laughed, had fun."
The voice returned, distinctly feminine now. Then create someone to dream of. There are many clans. Many paths.
He smiled as warmth returned. "Yeah… there are." Memories surfaced. "My best friend liked the Hyūga. Said the Uchiha were overrated. I think… I want to dream of one of those."
Every dream needs direction, the voice murmured. Which path would you choose?
He chuckled. "Whenever he used seals, those were the most fun. I want that."
And flaws? the voice whispered. Dreams are shaped by them.
He considered it carefully. "One-armed swordsmen are always cool. Maybe… a one-armed martial artist."
Interesting, the voice said softly. And his element?
The warmth vanished.
Cold rushed in.
"Uh… maybe all of them?" he said hesitantly. "Everyone wants to be special."
The voice surged through him, sharp and commanding, tearing away the comfort entirely.
It's time to wake up. Your dream has just begun.
His eyes snapped open.
Darkness shattered into light. Color flooded his vision.
Pain followed.
His body slammed into solid ground, air tearing from his lungs as cold stone pressed against his skin. He gasped, reflexively trying to push himself up—
And froze.
Something was wrong.
The weight felt uneven. His balance was off, center of gravity unfamiliar. Panic surged as he looked down.
One arm.
Only one.
Before he could process the horror, chakra—raw, unfamiliar, alive—surged through his body, igniting his senses. Symbols burned themselves into his vision, phantom impressions of seals and formulas he had never learned yet somehow understood.
A distant cry echoed through the air. Wind brushed against his face. The smell of earth and trees filled his lungs.
This wasn't a dream anymore.
And somewhere deep within him, something ancient stirred—
—as if the world itself had just noticed him.