On the second night of traveling through this world, Mizuki felt the hollow quiet of returning to a place that once meant home. Loneliness echoed in the walls like the Batcave when Bruce Wayne returned after losing Jason Todd. The oppressive weight of secrets in his heart was now undeniable, a feeling even Doctor Manhattan might recognize when he watched Earth from Mars. The alienation of a strange environment, which hadn't struck him the night before, now clung to him like symbiote residue from Venom.
"Then, it's time to solve your own hidden dangers~" In the bathroom, Mizuki let the warm water cascade from the showerhead, his eyes fixed on the ominous, tattoo-like pattern on his arm. "Is this a curse seal? A golden finger? Or a cosmic reminder—like Mjolnir choosing the unworthy?"
Orochimaru's 'gift'—given half as a joke, half as a test—had always felt like something between a Kryptonian crystal and a LexCorp experiment gone wrong. In the original anime, Mizuki couldn't resist the temptation to take risks, just like Eddie Brock couldn't resist the allure of the symbiote. But judging by Mizuki's original ending, this thing was as unreliable as a Lantern ring in the hands of someone without willpower. The curse seal remained dormant, inert, and beyond his ability to activate. In the Naruto world, besides Orochimaru-level obsessives, only a few minds like Tony Stark or Reed Richards might decipher it—let alone use it. And this one? Just a semi-finished product with fatal side effects. Compared to Anko's, Kimimaro's, or Sasuke's Curse Mark of Heaven and Earth, Mizuki's—dubbed the Tiger's Curse Seal—was laughable. The others could transform and fight without risk of dying instantly. His? More like a ticking bomb with no off switch. A Hulk transformation without the healing factor.
From this, it was clear: the only way to survive was to enhance his vitality to Deadpool or Wolverine levels—constant regeneration. Within the Naruto world, the best sources were Uzumaki DNA, Kabuto's cellular alterations, or the legendary Hashirama cells. That's the big gun. Danzo used them for recovery and to balance his Sharingan. Obito, Madara, and Sasuke relied on them to achieve Rinnegan and Eternal Mangekyo. Even Yamato gained Wood Release through them.
But none of these options were viable for Mizuki. They were as inaccessible to him as the Speed Force is to an ordinary citizen of Central City.
"This thing is a landmine. Even without Orochimaru's activation formula, there's no guarantee it won't detonate under emotional or physical stress and suck me dry like Parasite feeding on Superman. This problem must be solved, or it'll be game over."
He wiped the mist off the mirror and stared into his reflection. His image wasn't quite his own—shorter hair, different eyes. "Should I wear glasses?" he mused. "No… too Clark Kent. That's a mask I'm not ready to wear."
…
After the shower, Mizuki lay back in bed. Unlike yesterday, tonight he finally had time to think. He grabbed a book at random. "Massiveness in Paradise? Sounds like a Hero Story knockoff—Superman versus Darkseid, but with ninjas."
He tossed the book aside and stretched his hand out, chakra gathering as a soft, blue glow.
"Ninja… this inexplicable world. Is this what created it all? Incredible."
People who arrived in this world like Mizuki often seemed like Doctor Strange apprentices: overwhelmed, but wielding unseen knowledge. If this were just fiction, there'd be no need to question everything. But in a real-feeling world like this, every absurdity begged for examination.
As the saying went in his past life: "No matter how big a cake, it's still baked in a pot." The locals treated chakra as common sense—like metahumans on Earth-1 treating powers as ordinary. But Mizuki, as a traveler, saw it as divine anomaly. His edge wasn't chakra, but a Watcher-like omniscience—knowledge that others simply didn't have.
If there was a cheat, that cheat itself was what should be feared most. There are no free lunches. In any world—DC, Marvel, or Naruto—a cheat with no price is a trap. A Phoenix Force without emotional control leads to destruction. A symbiote without compatibility? Madness.
"Chakra… body and spirit combined. But what is left of a person besides that?" Mizuki muttered. "Orochimaru was a genius. Curse Seals and Living Corpse Reincarnation? That's almost like Ra's al Ghul's Lazarus Pit meets Mr. Sinister's experiments."
Legend said chakra came from the Sage of Six Paths—but from past life knowledge, it was clear Kaguya Ōtsutsuki brought it, feeding from the Divine Tree. The idea that a planet would spontaneously grow a god-fruit tree was as nonsensical as Earth generating the Power Cosmic on its own. Unless, of course, the world's structure was vast—capable of supporting powers that dwarfed even Asgard.
And yet, in the millennium since, no one matched the Sage of Six Paths. Even Madara, the final boss of his age, was just a pawn. The theatrical version's narrative—that the world was invaded by higher-dimensional entities—seemed far more plausible. Kaguya wasn't the creator; she was a thief. The Divine Tree? A planetary harvesting tool, like Galactus' world-consuming machines.
As for the Sage's decision to split chakra into Yin and Yang, that raised flags. It created dependence—either on himself or on Otsutsuki artifacts. That was no savior's move. It was like Lex Luthor designing a failsafe into every hero's power source.
The cycle of reincarnation between Indra and Asura continued endlessly. Forbidden jutsu blurred life and death—Reanimation, the Ghoul Seal summoning a literal Death God. And modern eyes like the Rinnegan could now resurrect on command. The rules of life and death? Broken. The world was like Jean Grey, resurrected too many times to know what life even meant.
In contrast, the old world Mizuki came from had no chakra—only nuclear power, entropy, and theoretical physics. Compared to that, this world's future was unreadable. "Kakashi's line rings true: 'Ninjas can't be judged by common sense.'" In this world, even the Conservation of Energy was just a polite suggestion.
And even though, according to news from before he crossed over, this world wouldn't perish within the next decade, that didn't mean the butterfly effect hadn't already started.
This ninja world? Full of shady puppet masters—like the Illuminati of Marvel or the Court of Owls in Gotham. Everyone wore the cloak of savior, but no one really saved the world itself. Even the Three Great Holy Lands remained hidden—mystical and manipulative, like the ancient Orders in Doctor Fate or Shang-Chi.
"Chakra… a fusion of body and soul. What else is a person but that?" Mizuki chuckled bitterly. "Orochimaru really is a genius—his Curse Seals and Soul Transfer are like if Zatanna and Sinister collaborated."
In conclusion, Chakra was never meant to be. It was like giving every human a Mother Box without instructions. The Sage of Six Paths used it wisely, but his descendants? Indra, Asura, Naruto, Sasuke—none could bear its weight. The rest? Kages, Jonin, even Mizuki—just NPCs without a cheat code.
Exhausted, Mizuki cursed aloud, "This damned cheat-code world," and fell into uneasy sleep.
…
In the haze between dream and wakefulness, colorful bubbles floated around him. Each one shimmered with emotion—like Professor X navigating a psychic plane. He touched them: anxiety from college exams, joy from raises, and— "Is that… the Nine-Tailed Fox?"
Each bubble held a memory. Most were his own; a few belonged to the original Mizuki.
But one scene stood out. Drawn to it, he drifted over—there, in a tangle of memories, lay a curled figure. Hollow, lifeless. "Mizuki…? No way."
Startled, he jolted awake, gasping. A voice pierced the silence.
"Nightmare?" said a nearby ANBU operative. "You're not very alert for a ninja."
"Third Hokage wants to see you."
"I'll be there after I prepare," Mizuki replied automatically.
He glanced out the window. Dawn.
"In a world with such a precise mapping tool like chakra, it's very possible that shifts in the mind reflect directly into dreams. If this isn't just a nightmare, but a warning, then I'm compromised—from body to soul." He touched the curse mark on his arm and gave a hollow smile.
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