What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

# What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

## Chapter 1: Inheritance

The war was over.

Naruto Uzumaki stood atop the rubble of what had once been a battlefield, the morning sun warming his skin. His tattered orange and black jacket fluttered in the breeze, dried blood still caked at the edges. Three days had passed since they'd sealed away Kaguya and defeated Madara, yet the victory felt strangely incomplete.

"You're still out here brooding?" Sakura's voice cut through his thoughts as she approached, medical kit slung over her shoulder. Her pink hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, dark circles under her eyes betraying her exhaustion. "The hospital tent is overflowing, and here's our hero, staring at clouds."

Naruto's lips curved into his signature grin, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry, Sakura-chan. I just needed some air." He flexed his right hand experimentally. Ever since the final battle, something had felt... different. The power that Hagoromo had granted him should have faded by now, yet he could still feel it pulsing beneath his skin, like a living thing seeking roots.

Sakura's expression softened. "Kakashi-sensei is looking for you. Something about the five Kage wanting to discuss reconstruction." She paused, studying his face. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine!" Naruto scratched the back of his head, but a sudden wave of dizziness made him sway slightly. "Just tired, ya know?"

Her trained medical eyes narrowed. "Your chakra's fluctuating wildly. I can sense it even without trying." She reached for his wrist, fingers pressing against his pulse point. "Your heart rate is elevated too. Maybe you should—"

"Naruto."

They both turned to see Sasuke approaching, his dark cloak billowing behind him. His rinnegan eye gleamed in the sunlight, fixed intently on Naruto.

"Sasuke! Perfect timing. Help me convince this idiot to get some rest," Sakura said, releasing Naruto's wrist.

Sasuke ignored her, stopping a few feet from Naruto. "Something's changed. I can see it."

The bluntness of the statement hung in the air. Naruto met his rival's mismatched gaze and felt something resonating between them—an understanding that transcended words.

"See what?" Sakura looked between them, frustration evident.

"His chakra," Sasuke replied, never breaking eye contact with Naruto. "It's... evolving."

A shiver ran down Naruto's spine. So he wasn't imagining it. "I thought the old man's power was supposed to fade after we sealed Kaguya."

"It was." Sasuke's tone was matter-of-fact, but his intensity betrayed concern.

Before anyone could speak further, a searing pain shot through Naruto's temples. He gasped, dropping to one knee as the world tilted sideways.

"Naruto!" Sakura was beside him instantly, green healing chakra already glowing at her fingertips.

"I'm okay," he managed through gritted teeth, even as the pain intensified. "Just need to—"

The world dissolved into blinding white light.

---

When Naruto opened his eyes, he was standing in a vast, ethereal space—not unlike where he had first met the Sage of Six Paths. Stars twinkled in the endless void around him, and beneath his feet, ripples spread outward as though he stood on invisible water.

"Naruto Uzumaki." The deep, resonant voice was instantly recognizable.

Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki materialized before him, floating cross-legged, his Rinnegan eyes piercing yet kind. The horned elder's robes shifted though there was no wind, and the Truth-Seeking Orbs orbited lazily behind him.

"Old man Sage!" Naruto exclaimed. "What's happening to me? I thought your power was temporary."

Hagoromo's weathered face creased with what might have been a smile. "That was my intention. But it seems the world has other plans for you, young Uzumaki."

The Sage waved his hand, and the space around them transformed. Images flashed by—the moon, the earth, streaming rivers of chakra connecting all living things.

"Since the moment of my death, I have awaited a true successor—one who would inherit not just my abilities, but my vision." Hagoromo's voice echoed in the vastness. "In all the centuries that have passed, no one has proven worthy... until now."

Naruto's heart pounded against his ribcage. "What are you saying?"

"The power I granted you and Sasuke was meant to be temporary—just enough to defeat my mother. But your body, your spirit..." The Sage paused, his ancient eyes studying Naruto with newfound wonder. "Instead of rejecting the power, your chakra has begun assimilating it. Growing with it. Becoming one with it."

The implications crashed over Naruto like a tidal wave. "So, what, I'm stuck with it? This crazy god-power?" He looked down at his hands, suddenly aware of subtle golden light tracing the lines of his palms.

"Not 'stuck with it,' Naruto. Chosen for it." Hagoromo's voice grew more serious. "You are becoming the next Sage of Six Paths."

The words hung in the cosmos between them, heavy with destiny.

"But I don't want—I never asked for—" Naruto stammered, sudden panic rising in his chest.

"Few who are worthy of great power actively seek it." The Sage's voice was gentle but firm. "That is precisely why you were chosen. Your heart remains pure, despite the darkness you have faced."

Before Naruto could protest further, Hagoromo raised his staff. "The transformation has already begun. Your perception will expand. Your connection to all living things will deepen. The very fabric of reality will become malleable to your will."

"Wait!" Naruto reached out as the Sage began to fade. "I don't know how to control this! I just want to be Hokage, to protect my friends, not become some kind of—"

"God?" Hagoromo finished, his form now translucent. "Power is neither good nor evil, Naruto. It simply is. How you wield it..." His voice grew distant. "That choice remains yours, as it always has."

The Sage vanished entirely, leaving only his final words echoing in the void: "Remember who you are, Naruto Uzumaki, when the world begins to look different through divine eyes."

---

"—breathing! He's breathing again!"

Sakura's frantic voice pierced the darkness as Naruto gasped awake, jolting upright with such force that she nearly fell backward. They were still on the battlefield, but now Kakashi and Shikamaru had joined them, their faces taut with concern.

"Thirty-eight seconds," Shikamaru said, his typically bored expression replaced with genuine worry. "Your heart stopped for thirty-eight seconds."

"What happened?" Kakashi asked, his visible eye narrowed in calculation. "One minute you were standing, the next..."

Naruto blinked rapidly, trying to focus. The world looked... strange. Different. As though an invisible veil had been lifted from his eyes. He could see chakra now—not just sense it as he always had, but actually see it. Blue threads of energy pulsed from Sakura's hands. A lightning-bright current ran through Kakashi's body. Shikamaru's shadow chakra coiled around him like sentient smoke.

And when he looked at Sasuke... he nearly recoiled. His friend's chakra was a violent storm of purple and black, shot through with the crimson lightning of his rinnegan.

"Your eyes," Sasuke said quietly. "They've changed."

Naruto reached up hesitantly, touching the skin beside his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Sakura fumbled in her medic pouch, producing a small mirror. When Naruto looked into it, he gasped. His usually bright blue eyes now shimmered with an inner light, and around the pupils, a ripple pattern had formed—not quite the rinnegan, but something new, something evolving.

"I spoke with the Sage," he said, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. "He said I'm becoming his successor—the next Sage of Six Paths."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Shikamaru broke it with a low whistle. "How troublesome."

"Is that even possible?" Kakashi wondered aloud, but his question seemed rhetorical. They were living in an age where the impossible happened daily.

"It's already happening," Sasuke stated flatly. He alone seemed unsurprised, as though he had been expecting this all along.

Naruto tried to stand, but his legs wobbled traitorously. Sakura steadied him with a firm grip.

"Take it slow," she cautioned. "Your chakra pathways are reconfiguring themselves. I've never seen anything like it."

But Naruto wasn't listening anymore. Something was pulling at the edges of his consciousness—a vast, humming awareness that stretched beyond the horizon. Without thinking, he extended his senses outward, and suddenly he could feel every living being within miles. The wounded soldiers in the medical tents, their pain like pinpricks of fire in his mind. The civilians in the distant village, their relief and grief mingling in a complex emotional tapestry. Animals in the forest, insects in the ground, fish in the stream—all connected, all part of a massive, intricate web of life.

"Naruto?" Sakura's voice seemed to come from very far away.

He pushed his awareness further, fascinated and terrified by this new perception. Ten miles. Twenty. Fifty. With each moment, his range expanded exponentially until—

The world exploded into his consciousness.

Billions of lives, countless chakra signatures, an entire planet's worth of living energy slammed into his mind at once. Naruto screamed, clutching his head as the overwhelming input became unbearable. Through the chaos, he felt something else—a massive network of chakra that flowed through the very earth itself, connecting everything to everything else.

The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was Sasuke's face, etched with an emotion he'd rarely seen there: fear.

As consciousness slipped away, a final thought drifted through Naruto's mind:

What am I becoming?

# What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

## Chapter 2: Awakening

Light pierced Naruto's consciousness like a kunai through silk. His eyelids fluttered, each blink bringing the world into sharper focus. The hospital ceiling swam above him—familiar water stains forming constellations he'd counted during numerous recoveries.

But this time was different. This time, he could see through the ceiling.

Naruto bolted upright with a gasp, sheets pooling around his waist. Chakra signatures blazed through the hospital walls like azure fireworks—medics rushing between rooms, patients sleeping or suffering, visitors pacing with worry. He could perceive it all simultaneously, each life a brilliant star in his expanded awareness.

"Easy there." Tsunade's voice cut through his disorientation. She sat beside his bed, amber eyes narrowed in clinical assessment. "You've been unconscious for three days."

"Three days?" Naruto's throat felt raw, his voice strange in his ears.

"We almost lost you twice." Tsunade's chakra swirled with exhaustion and relief, emotions Naruto could now see as clearly as her physical form. "Your chakra network has been... restructuring itself. Sakura and I have been taking shifts to stabilize you."

Naruto glanced down at his hands. Golden light pulsed faintly beneath his skin, tracing the pathways of his chakra network like luminous rivers.

"Everything looks different," he whispered. "I can see... everything. Everyone. Their chakra, their emotions—" He squinted at Tsunade. "You're worried. And you drank sake about an hour ago."

Tsunade's eyebrow arched. "That's unnervingly accurate."

A knock interrupted them, and before Tsunade could respond, Naruto felt himself saying, "It's Shikamaru, Kakashi-sensei, and Sakura. Sasuke's hanging back in the hallway."

The door slid open, revealing exactly the group he'd named. Sakura's eyes widened. "How did you—"

"He knew we were coming," Shikamaru concluded, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he slouched into the room. His lazy posture contradicted the sharp calculation in his eyes. "Troublesome."

Kakashi leaned against the wall, visible eye studying Naruto with uncharacteristic intensity. "Welcome back to the land of the living. Though I get the impression you never really left it, did you?"

Naruto grinned, but the expression felt strange on his face—an echo of his former self. "Not exactly. It's like... I've been everywhere at once." He swung his legs over the bed's edge, ignoring Tsunade's disapproving grunt. "I need to get outside. The walls are... too loud."

"The walls are loud?" Sakura repeated, medical concern lacing her voice.

Naruto's eyes swept the room, seeing beyond the physical. "The wood is still living, in a way. It remembers being a forest. And the minerals in the stone..." He shook his head. "I can hear them resonating."

A heavy silence followed his words.

"Naruto," Kakashi said carefully, "you're not speaking like yourself."

Shikamaru nodded. "Your vocabulary and syntax have altered significantly."

Naruto blinked, then laughed—a sound too musical to be entirely human. "Sorry! Didn't notice. Guess I picked up some stuff from the old Sage." He stood, stretching limbs that felt simultaneously leaden and weightless. "Seriously though, I need air."

Five minutes and several medical protests later, Naruto stood on the hospital roof, drinking in the panorama of a rebuilding Konoha. The village sprawled before him like an open book—every chakra signature, every conversation, every breath palpable to his heightened senses.

"It's overwhelming at first," came Sasuke's voice from behind him. The Uchiha stepped forward, mismatched eyes fixed on the horizon. "When I first awakened the Rinnegan, I could see too much. It gets easier."

Naruto glanced at his rival, now seeing layers he'd never perceived before—the storm of Sasuke's chakra, yes, but also the complex emotional currents beneath his stoic exterior. Concern. Caution. And something deeper: fear.

"You think I'm going to lose myself to this power," Naruto stated—not a question.

Sasuke didn't flinch. "It's happened to everyone who's wielded god-like abilities. Madara. Pain. Even the original Sage eventually separated himself from humanity."

Naruto rolled his shoulders, feeling new energy crackling along his spine. "I'm still me."

"For now," Sasuke replied quietly.

Before Naruto could respond, a flash of awareness hit him like a thunderclap—a sudden violence erupting at the border between the Land of Rivers and the Land of Rain. Without conscious thought, his body dissolved into golden light.

---

Sasuke blinked at the empty space where Naruto had stood a heartbeat earlier. "Shit."

He whirled to find the others bursting onto the roof, alerted by the pulse of chakra.

"Where is he?" Tsunade demanded.

Sasuke activated his Rinnegan, scanning the distance. "He's gone. Something caught his attention." His jaw tightened. "Something far away."

---

Rain pelted the contested borderland as shinobi from two minor villages squared off across a swollen river. Water jutsu clashed with earth techniques, churning the ground into treacherous mud. Blood mingled with rainwater as the first casualties fell.

A flash of golden light stopped every combatant mid-attack.

Naruto materialized between the warring factions, his body radiating an ethereal glow that cut through the downpour. His eyes—now permanently ringed with the evolved pattern of his new power—surveyed the battlefield with impossible calm.

"Enough," he said, his voice somehow carrying over the storm without shouting.

A Chunin from the Rain faction snarled, hands flashing through seals. "Stay out of this, Konoha dog! This isn't your fight!"

Water dragons erupted from the river, hurtling toward Naruto with killing intent. He didn't move. Didn't blink. Simply raised a hand, palm outward.

The jutsu evaporated into mist.

Silence fell across the battlefield as Naruto lifted both hands. Every weapon—kunai, shuriken, swords, even chakra-infused tools—rose from the mud and hands of their wielders, hovering in a deadly constellation above the stunned shinobi.

"I said enough." Naruto's voice resonated with a harmonic undertone that vibrated through bone and soul. With a gentle closing of his fist, every weapon compressed into a perfect sphere of metal, which he then set gently on the ground between the factions.

"This dispute is over water rights," Naruto continued, shocking the gathered ninja with his knowledge of their conflict. "The tributaries that once fed both your villages have been diverted by the recent war."

He knelt, placing his palm against the sodden earth. Golden light spread outward from his touch, sinking into the ground. A low rumble built beneath them, and suddenly the earth shifted. New channels carved themselves through the landscape, redirecting the river's flow to create two equal branches—one for each village.

"There," Naruto said, rising to his feet. "Now there is enough for all."

The shinobi stared in stunned silence, weapons gone, wounded comrades suddenly healed as golden chakra washed over the battlefield like morning sunlight.

A grizzled Jōnin from the Rivers faction stepped forward, eyes narrowed in suspicion despite his awe. "Why would a Konoha ninja help us?"

Naruto tilted his head, an unnervingly inhuman gesture. "I am not intervening as a Konoha shinobi." His gaze swept across the gathered fighters. "I am merely... restoring balance."

With those cryptic words, his form dissolved again into particles of light, leaving behind shinobi who would spread tales of a golden god-ninja who ended wars with a gesture and reshaped the earth itself.

---

Naruto rematerialized in Tsunade's office, where an emergency meeting of Konoha's leadership was already underway. His sudden appearance sent papers flying and had ANBU guards dropping into defensive stances.

"Stand down," Tsunade barked at the guards, though her own posture remained rigid. "Naruto, what the hell was that? You can't just vanish from the village without—"

"There was a conflict at the border of Rain and Rivers," he interrupted, his voice eerily calm. "Thirty-eight shinobi were about to die. Now they won't."

Shikamaru stepped forward, eyes sharp with analysis. "You teleported over two hundred miles? That's beyond even the Fourth Hokage's Flying Thunder God technique."

"Not teleportation exactly," Naruto mused, examining his hands with fascination. "More like... thought becoming form. I perceived the violence, desired to be there, and... was."

Kakashi exchanged glances with Tsunade. "Naruto, while saving lives is admirable, you can't interfere in conflicts between other nations without diplomatic clearance. It could be seen as an act of war."

Something flickered across Naruto's face—a momentary confusion, as though the concept of international boundaries suddenly seemed arbitrary and strange.

"They needed help," he said simply. "So I helped them."

"It's not that simple—" Tsunade began.

"Why isn't it?" Naruto asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. "Their children were starving because the river changed course. Now they won't. Their shinobi were dying over resources that can be shared. Now they're not." He tilted his head again, that same curious bird-like gesture. "What diplomatic protocol outweighs that?"

The room fell silent, leadership struck wordless by the disarming logic and the unsettling otherness creeping into Naruto's demeanor.

"Look," Sakura broke the silence, stepping close to Naruto with medical charts in hand, "your body is still adapting to whatever this transformation is. You need rest and observation before you start... I don't know, reshaping geography and stopping wars."

Naruto smiled at her—the expression almost his old self, but his eyes too ancient, too knowing. "I feel fine, Sakura-chan. Better than fine." He looked around the room. "I understand your concerns. But I also understand things now that I didn't before."

"Like what?" Shikamaru challenged, arms crossed.

"Like the fact that the entire shinobi system is built on artificial scarcity," Naruto replied without hesitation. "Nations fight over resources that could be generated through proper application of chakra. The Five Great Nations hoard techniques that could benefit all humanity. Suffering persists not because it must, but because of traditions built on fear and power."

Stunned silence met his words.

"That's... a surprisingly astute geopolitical assessment," Shikamaru finally managed, though wariness never left his eyes.

Naruto shrugged. "I can see the chakra flows of the entire continent now. The imbalances are obvious once you look at the whole pattern." He turned toward the door. "I need to process what I'm experiencing. Don't worry—I won't leave the village again without telling you."

"Naruto," Tsunade called as he reached the threshold, "we should run more tests. Your chakra is still fluctuating wildly—"

"I know," he replied without turning back. "I can see it too. Don't worry, Baa-chan. I'll be careful."

As the door closed behind him, Kakashi slumped against the wall. "That wasn't Naruto talking."

"Yes and no," Sasuke said from the corner where he'd been silently observing. "It's still him, but he's... expanding. Seeing more. Becoming more." His expression darkened. "The question is: how much of him will remain when the transformation is complete?"

---

Sunset painted Konoha in amber and gold as Naruto ascended the Hokage Monument. Civilian villagers stopped to point and whisper as he passed—word of his awakening and mysterious new abilities spreading like wildfire through the rebuilding town.

The stone faces of previous Hokage seemed to watch him with judgment as he settled cross-legged atop his father's carved likeness. From this vantage point, he could see the entire village physically—but now, with eyes partially closed, he could perceive far more.

Naruto extended his awareness outward, careful this time to control the expansion. The village chakra network unfurled below him like a living map—civilians, shinobi, animals, plants, even the residual chakra in buildings and streets constructed with jutsu-infused materials. Further out, he sensed the forests, then neighboring villages, then the borders of the Land of Fire itself.

With each breath, his perception expanded further. The Five Great Nations spread before his mind's eye like a tapestry of light and shadow—countless lives interwoven in patterns of conflict and harmony, suffering and joy. He felt the planet's own chakra network, the natural energy that the Sage mode had only given him glimpses of, now fully visible as an intricate web encompassing everything.

Knowledge poured into him—not just information, but understanding. The complex histories of clan conflicts, the subtle manipulations of daimyō politics, the cycles of violence that had shaped the shinobi world—all suddenly transparent in their cause and effect.

And with that understanding came something new: the awareness that he could change it. All of it.

Golden light began emanating from Naruto's body as he sank deeper into communion with the world's chakra. The glow intensified until he became a beacon atop the monument, visible from every corner of the village.

From the Hokage tower, Tsunade watched with trepidation.

From a hospital window, Sakura observed with medical fascination and personal dread.

From the shadows of the forest, Sasuke tracked the power spike with his Rinnegan, fingers tightening around his sword hilt.

And far away, scattered across the continent, the tailed beasts stirred in their new freedom, sensing the emergence of something both familiar and unprecedented—a new Sage, a new god, rising in the east.

As night fell fully, Naruto opened his eyes, now permanently transformed—concentric ripples surrounding pupils that reflected the cosmos itself. In the darkness of his mind, Kurama stirred.

"**You feel it too, don't you, kit?**" the fox rumbled within their shared consciousness.

"Yes," Naruto whispered to the night air. "Everything is connected. Everything can be healed." His voice took on that eerie harmonic quality again as he added: "Everything can be changed."

Below, in the streets of Konoha, civilians looked up at their golden guardian with wonder and whispered prayers of gratitude and supplication—the first worshippers of a reluctant god.

# What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

## Chapter 3: Intervention

Dawn broke over Konoha in shattered fragments of amber and gold, the rising sun casting long shadows across a village holding its collective breath. Three weeks had passed since Naruto's transformation began, and with each passing day, the golden aura surrounding him grew more intense, more absolute.

Hinata found him floating—actually floating—six inches above the grass in Training Ground Three, legs crossed in meditation, his hair whipping in a breeze that seemed to affect only him. Around his levitating form, small rocks and droplets of morning dew orbited like miniature planets, caught in the gravitational pull of his chakra.

"N-Naruto-kun?" Her voice barely carried across the clearing.

His eyes snapped open—those cosmic, ringed eyes that still made her heart stutter despite their alienness. The floating objects crashed to the ground as his concentration broke, but his body remained suspended as he turned to face her.

"Hinata." His voice resonated with that strange harmonic undertone that had become his new normal. The sound simultaneously warmed her chest and chilled her spine.

She clutched a small bento box to her chest. "I brought you breakfast. You've been out here all night, and I thought—"

"—that I might be hungry." He completed her sentence with a gentle smile that almost, almost looked like the old Naruto. "That's very kind."

He didn't mention that he hadn't eaten in three days. Didn't need to. Physical sustenance seemed increasingly optional for him now.

Naruto's feet touched the ground with impossible grace, not a single blade of grass bending beneath his weight. He approached her, golden light shimmering around his form like heat waves off summer asphalt.

Hinata held out the bento with trembling fingers. "It's nothing special. Just rice balls with salmon." She'd spent two hours making them anyway, shaping each one with excruciating care.

"My favorite." He accepted the box, and for an instant, his fingers brushed hers—sending a jolt of something electric and ancient through her system. His chakra wasn't just his anymore. It carried echoes of something vast and primordial.

"Will you join me?" he asked, settling on a fallen log.

She nodded, perching beside him with careful distance. As he opened the bento, she studied his profile—the familiar whisker marks on cheeks that had lost their childish roundness, the strong jaw that had always been there but now seemed carved from marble, the golden hair that now seemed to shimmer with internal light.

He was still breathtakingly beautiful. Just less... human.

"Everyone's talking about what you did in the Land of Valleys," she ventured as he took a small, polite bite. "They say you stopped a landslide with your bare hands."

"Hmm." He nodded, a distant expression crossing his face. "The chakra imbalance in the mountain was creating instability. I just... restored equilibrium."

"You saved four villages. Over two thousand people."

"Yes." So simple. So matter-of-fact.

Hinata twisted her fingers in her lap. "And before that, the plague in the border towns—"

"A simple chakra adjustment. Disease is just an imbalance at a cellular level." He set the half-eaten bento aside, his focus already drifting beyond the clearing. "Thank you for breakfast, Hinata. Your kindness remains one of the purest things in this world."

The compliment should have made her blush with pleasure. Instead, it landed like a eulogy.

Before she could respond, Naruto's head snapped toward the east, his entire body tensing. "No," he whispered, eyes widening. "So many lives..."

"What is it?" Hinata activated her Byakugan instinctively, seeing nothing but forest for miles.

But Naruto was seeing something else entirely—something hundreds of miles away. His body began to glow brighter, particles of golden light lifting from his skin like embers from a fire.

"I have to go." His voice was urgent, yet unnervingly calm. "The Land of Water. A tsunami—massive—heading for the eastern coast."

Fear clutched at Hinata's heart. "Wait! Let me get the others—we can help—"

But Naruto was already disintegrating into pure light, his final words hanging in the air as the particles scattered: "There's no time. Thousands will die within minutes."

And he was gone, leaving Hinata alone in a clearing suddenly too silent, too empty—clutching a half-eaten bento and the fading warmth of his chakra signature.

---

The coastal village of Nami no Miyako sprawled across tiered cliffs and inlets, its harbor crowded with fishing vessels and merchant ships. Morning markets bustled with activity, children raced through narrow streets, and fishermen mended nets along the promenade—none aware of the seismic shift that had occurred offshore just minutes earlier.

Until the water began to recede.

First slowly, then with alarming speed, the ocean pulled back like an indrawn breath, revealing seafloor that hadn't seen sunlight in centuries. Curious villagers wandered onto the exposed harbor bottom, pointing at flopping fish and exposed shipwrecks.

The harbor master, an old woman who had survived three wars and countless storms, felt her arthritic bones screaming a warning. "TSUNAMI!" she shrieked, her cracked voice carrying on the suddenly still air. "TO THE HIGH GROUND!"

Panic erupted as people dropped their goods and grabbed their children, scrambling toward the stepped pathways leading up the cliffs. But too many lingered in fascination, too many were too old or young to move quickly, too many would never reach safety in time.

On the horizon, a wall of water rose, mountainous and merciless—thirty meters high and moving with the speed of a galloping horse.

The harbor master closed her rheumy eyes. "May the Sage have mercy on our souls."

The shadow of death fell across the harbor as the wave blocked the morning sun. People screamed, prayed, clutched loved ones. Some continued running futilely. Others simply knelt in acceptance.

Golden light exploded above the harbor—so bright it turned fear to stunned silence, so warm it felt like midday sun in the tsunami's shadow.

Naruto materialized directly in the wave's path, hovering fifty feet above the exposed harbor floor. His orange cloak snapped in the gale-force winds preceding the wall of water, his hair a crown of golden flame, his eyes blazing with cosmic power.

The harbor master squinted upward in disbelief. "The Sage..." she whispered.

Naruto raised one hand toward the oncoming tsunami, palm out. Just that. No hand signs. No jutsu names shouted to the heavens. Just absolute, terrifying serenity as death approached.

The tsunami struck his outstretched hand—and stopped.

Thirty million tons of water suspended in defiance of physics and nature, held back by nothing but will and chakra. The massive wave curved around Naruto's form like a liquid mountain frozen in time, water droplets hanging in the air like suspended jewels.

For a breathless moment, the scene held—a golden god and a leviathan of water locked in silent confrontation.

Then, with almost gentle precision, Naruto closed his fingers into a loose fist and pulled upward. The entire tsunami—kilometers wide and tall as a building—lifted into the sky, reforming into a perfect sphere of seawater hovering above the harbor.

Gasps and cries of disbelief erupted from the onlookers. Several fell to their knees in spontaneous worship.

Naruto made a subtle gesture with his free hand, and the sphere began to rotate, faster and faster, condensing smaller and tighter until it was perhaps a hundred meters across—all that destructive force compressed into a spinning blue orb.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent it arcing back out to sea, where it splashed down miles from shore, sending relatively harmless ripples across the ocean's surface.

He descended slowly to the center of the harbor, touching down on wet stone with impossible lightness. Silence fell as hundreds of villagers stared in awe and terror.

A small child broke free from her mother's grasp and ran forward, stopping a few feet from Naruto's glowing form.

"Are you a god?" the little girl asked, eyes wide with innocent wonder.

Naruto knelt to her level, a soft smile warming his otherworldly features. "No," he said, his voice carrying to every ear despite its gentleness. "I'm just someone who wants to help."

"You saved us," the harbor master croaked as she hobbled forward, leaning heavily on her cane. "The whole village would have been swept away."

Naruto rose, surveying the crowd with those ringed, cosmic eyes. "Return to your homes. The danger has passed." He hesitated, then added with a touch of his old warmth, "And maybe build your next harbor a bit higher up, yeah?"

A few nervous chuckles broke the tension. But as people began to disperse, whispering and pointing, Naruto sensed something else—the first threads of fervent belief taking root in their minds, the first whispered prayers directed toward him rather than abstract deities.

It should have disturbed him. Instead, he found himself thinking: If faith brings them comfort, what harm does it do?

The thought startled him back to himself. He needed to return to Konoha, to ground himself among those who knew him as Naruto, not as some divine savior.

As his body began to dissolve once more into particles of light, he heard the harbor master whisper to the crowd: "The Sage of Six Paths has returned to us in our hour of need. Spread the word."

---

"Three natural disasters, two border conflicts, and a terrorist plot—all personally intervened in by Konoha's own Naruto Uzumaki!" Tsunade slapped the intelligence report onto her desk, sake cup rattling with the impact. "And that's just in the past week!"

The emergency council session had convened in the Hokage's office—Kakashi, Shikamaru, Sakura, and a handful of clan leaders crowded around the circular table. Only Sasuke remained apart, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed and eyes shadowed.

"The daimyō is receiving inquiries from every nation," Tsunade continued, massaging her temples. "Some grateful, some accusing us of deploying a new weapon."

"Technically, they're not wrong," Shikamaru drawled, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed his concern. "Naruto's become something beyond a jinchūriki or a sage. He's practically a—"

"Don't say it," Sakura cut in, green eyes flashing. "He's still Naruto. Still our friend."

"Is he?" Sasuke's quiet question fell like a stone into still water. All eyes turned to him. "When was the last time anyone saw him eat ramen? Make a stupid joke? Talk about becoming Hokage?" His mismatched eyes swept the room. "Those were the anchors of Naruto's identity. Now he's too busy playing god to remember who he was."

Uncomfortable silence followed.

"The villagers have started leaving offerings at his apartment door," Kakashi observed, voice carefully neutral. "Flowers, food, written prayers. The same thing is happening in every place he's... intervened."

"Troublesome," Shikamaru muttered. "Deification is a predictable human response to seemingly miraculous power, but it's only going to accelerate whatever's happening to him."

The door burst open, admitting a breathless Hinata. "He's back," she announced. "The Land of Water—a tsunami—he stopped it with his bare hand!"

Tsunade swore colorfully. "That's the territory of the Hidden Mist! The Mizukage will see this as a direct overstep of—"

"Over four thousand people would have died," came Naruto's voice as golden light coalesced in the center of the room. His form materialized gradually, features resolving from pure energy into solid flesh—though the distinction seemed increasingly academic. "Should I have let them drown for the sake of political protocol?"

No one had an immediate answer.

Naruto looked around the room, taking in the troubled faces of his friends and mentors. For a moment, something like his old self flickered in his expression—uncertainty, even hurt at their wariness.

"You're all afraid of me now," he said softly.

"Not afraid of you," Sakura corrected, stepping forward. "Afraid for you. This power is changing you, Naruto."

"Of course it is," he replied with disarming candor. "How could it not? I see the world differently now. The suffering, the connections, the solutions—all so clear."

"That's exactly what concerns us," Shikamaru interjected. "You're making unilateral decisions affecting thousands. That's not your role."

Something shifted in Naruto's eyes then—a subtle hardening, a distance opening like a chasm between them.

"If I have the power to prevent suffering and choose not to use it, isn't that immoral?" he asked, voice resonating with that strange harmonic undertone. "If you saw someone drowning and could save them, would you stop to get permission?"

"That's not the same—" Tsunade began.

"It's exactly the same," Naruto interrupted, an edge entering his voice. "Just at a different scale."

He paced the center of the room, golden light trailing his movements like solar flares. "Last week, I sensed a plague developing in border towns that would have killed thousands. I neutralized the pathogen before anyone even fell ill." His eyes swept across their faces. "Should I have waited until people started dying? Until proper diplomatic channels approved intervention? How many deaths would make action acceptable?"

Sasuke pushed away from the wall, confrontation crackling in his stance. "And what gives you the right to make that decision for everyone?"

"The ability to prevent suffering carries with it the responsibility to do so," Naruto replied with unnerving calm. "That's not godhood, Sasuke. That's basic human morality scaled to my current capabilities."

"You're interfering with the natural order," Kakashi said quietly.

Naruto's laugh held no humor. "The 'natural order' is a comforting myth we tell ourselves to avoid responsibility. Was the Fourth Shinobi War natural? Are poverty and disease natural when we have the chakra and technology to eliminate them?"

No one seemed able to counter his inexorable logic—logic delivered with such conviction it bordered on zealotry.

Tsunade downed her sake in one swallow and slammed the cup down. "We're getting off track. The Five Kage are calling an emergency summit to address... well, you. They're convening in three days at a neutral location."

"I know," Naruto said simply.

Tsunade blinked. "What do you mean, you know?"

"The Raikage sent the coded message an hour ago. The Mizukage insisted on neutral ground, preferably somewhere I've never visited. They settled on an island outpost in contested waters." Naruto's lips curved in a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "They're discussing whether I constitute a threat to the balance of power established after the war."

Stunned silence filled the room.

"How could you possibly know that?" Shikamaru demanded, genuine alarm cracking through his lazy facade. "Those communications are encrypted with the highest-level seals."

"I don't need to read the messages," Naruto replied. "I can sense their chakra fluctuations during the conversations. Fear, resolve, anger, calculation—emotions are as clear to me as spoken words now."

A chill swept through the room. The implications were staggering—Naruto could essentially spy on any emotional exchange anywhere in the world.

"That's..." Sakura trailed off, unable to find words adequate to the violation this represented.

"Invasive?" Naruto supplied. "Perhaps. But it's simply part of how I perceive reality now. I don't choose to sense these things any more than you choose to see colors or hear sounds."

Tsunade stood, shoulders squared with Hokage authority. "Regardless, we need to prepare for this summit. As a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf, you'll—"

"I won't be attending," Naruto interrupted, his tone final.

"What?" Tsunade's legendary temper flared. "This isn't optional, Naruto! This is a direct order from your Hokage!"

Something ancient and utterly calm looked out through Naruto's eyes—something that made everyone in the room, even Tsunade, instinctively take a step back.

"I respect your authority within the Hidden Leaf, Tsunade," he said, using her name without honorifics for the first time. "But these divisions—these arbitrary borders and hierarchies—they're part of the system perpetuating suffering."

"Naruto," Kakashi interjected, a warning in his voice.

But Naruto continued, golden light intensifying around him. "The Kage want to meet to determine if I'm a threat to their power structure. I am. Not because I seek to rule, but because the very concept of divided rule is becoming obsolete."

The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

"You speak of your 'current capabilities' as if they're still evolving," Shikamaru observed, voice tight with controlled fear. "What's the endpoint, Naruto? What are you becoming?"

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Naruto's features. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "But I can feel it—something vast approaching. A transformation beyond what I've experienced so far."

The momentary vulnerability vanished, replaced by that eerie serenity. "What I do know is that I won't be confined by systems designed for a world that no longer exists. Not when I can see a better path."

"And we're just supposed to trust that your vision is correct?" Sasuke challenged, hand drifting to his sword hilt. "That's called tyranny, Naruto, no matter how benevolent you think you are."

Something dangerous flashed in Naruto's eyes—a brief flare of godlike wrath that made the windows rattle in their frames. Then it subsided, controlled and contained behind his impassive face.

"Your concerns are understandable," he said, voice once again calm and resonant. "But ultimately unnecessary. I can see the true path to peace now."

With those ominous words, his form began to dissolve into particles of golden light.

"Naruto, wait—!" Sakura reached for him, but her hand passed through the dissipating energy.

"Let the Kage have their meeting," his voice echoed as his physical form vanished entirely. "I'll be there when it matters."

The golden particles winked out, leaving the emergency council in stunned silence, staring at empty air where their friend—their increasingly unrecognizable friend—had stood.

"Well," Shikamaru finally said, slumping into a chair. "That was both predictable and terrifying."

Sasuke's knuckles were white around his sword hilt. "He's gone beyond reasoning with. Beyond reaching."

"No." Hinata's quiet voice drew all eyes to her. She stood straighter than anyone had ever seen, Byakugan activated and focused on the lingering traces of Naruto's chakra. "I could still see it—underneath all that power. He's afraid. Lonely. Confused." Her voice strengthened. "Naruto is still in there. We just need to find a way to reach him."

"Before or after he decides to 'fix' the entire shinobi world?" Tsunade asked bitterly, reaching for the sake bottle again.

No one had an answer.

---

Three days later, on a remote island fortress built into volcanic rock, the Five Kage gathered in a chamber designed to block all known forms of sensory jutsu—a paranoid relic from wars long past. Guards lined the walls, sensors monitored for intrusion, and privacy seals of the highest caliber glowed at every entrance.

"Are we certain this location is secure?" the Mizukage asked, violet eyes scanning the chamber warily.

"As secure as anything can be these days," the Tsuchikage grumbled. "Though I'm not sure our traditional measures mean much against whatever the Uzumaki boy has become."

"He is not a boy anymore," the Raikage rumbled, massive arms crossed over his chest. "He's a weapon. One that Konoha has failed to control."

Tsunade bristled. "Naruto is not a weapon. He's a hero who's undergoing a transformation we don't fully understand yet."

"A transformation that has him interfering across every border, resolving conflicts without authorization, and establishing himself as some kind of divine arbiter," the Kazekage—Gaara—observed quietly. "Even I find his evolution... concerning."

Coming from Naruto's closest ally among the Kage, the admission landed heavily.

"The question remains," the Mizukage continued, "what are we to do about him? His power appears to exceed any single nation's capacity to check, perhaps even our combined forces."

"We could try talking to him," Gaara suggested dryly. "He was responsive to reason before this transformation."

"We tried that," Tsunade admitted, the words bitter on her tongue. "He's operating on a different logic now. He sees our concerns as petty in the grand scheme of what he perceives."

The Tsuchikage leaned forward. "Then containment may be our only—"

Golden light suddenly filled the chamber, swirling like a desert storm before coalescing into Naruto's form. He stood in the center of the circular table, looking down at the startled Kage with cosmic eyes.

Every guard rushed forward, jutsu at the ready. The Raikage's lightning chakra crackled around his massive frame. Gaara's sand hissed from his gourd.

Naruto made no move to defend himself. He didn't need to.

"How did you penetrate our security?" the Mizukage demanded, on her feet now. "This chamber is sealed against all sensory techniques!"

"Is it?" Naruto's voice carried that harmonic undertone that made spines tingle and skin prickle. "I don't use techniques. I simply... perceive."

The Tsuchikage motioned the guards back, recognizing the futility of confrontation. "Why are you here, Uzumaki? This meeting is for the Five Kage only."

Naruto turned in a slow circle, meeting each leader's eyes. "I came because you're afraid. Because you're planning responses based on incomplete understanding. Because decisions made in fear and ignorance will only cause more suffering."

"Arrogant brat," the Raikage snarled. "You think transforming into some kind of chakra demigod makes you wiser than the five of us combined?"

Naruto regarded him with something between pity and amusement. "Age doesn't guarantee wisdom, A. Neither does political position." His gaze swept the room. "Neither does power. But perspective—seeing the whole pattern rather than one's small corner of it—that offers insight none of you currently possess."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Gaara asked, the only one seemingly unfazed by Naruto's sudden appearance.

Naruto smiled at his old friend—a smile tinged with sadness, as though addressing a beloved child who couldn't possibly understand. "That the system you seek to preserve is the very source of the suffering I'm trying to eliminate. Hidden Villages, competing nations, hoarded jutsu, power concentrated in the hands of five individuals—it's an architecture designed for perpetual conflict."

"It's also the system that finally achieved peace after generations of war," Tsunade countered, finding her voice.

"Tenuous peace," Naruto corrected gently. "Already fraying at the edges as old grudges resurface and resource pressures mount." He gestured, and an image appeared in the air between them—a three-dimensional map of the continent with flowing lines of chakra, population centers, and simmering conflict zones highlighted in various colors. "This is what I see when I look at our world. The patterns are clear. Another war is coming within a decade unless the fundamental structure changes."

The Kage stared at the projection in stunned silence—the most sophisticated geopolitical analysis they had ever seen, displayed with technology or jutsu beyond their comprehension.

"And let me guess," the Tsuchikage finally said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "You're the one who should implement these changes?"

"I don't seek to rule," Naruto replied with absolute conviction. "Only to rebalance what has fallen into dysfunction. To heal what is broken in our world's chakra system."

"By whose authority?" the Mizukage challenged.

Naruto's eyes flashed—those cosmic, ringed eyes that held the power of creation and destruction. "By the authority of one who can see the disease and possesses the cure. By the authority of one who refuses to watch suffering continue when he has the power to end it."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop further.

"That sounds dangerously close to declaring yourself a god, Naruto," Gaara said softly, genuine concern in his usually impassive face.

Naruto's expression softened as he looked at his old friend. "I have no interest in worship, Gaara. Only in healing. Only in balance." He paused, head tilting in that now-familiar inhuman gesture. "Though I'm beginning to understand why the Sage limited his interventions. Human growth requires some suffering—but I can design better parameters for that growth."

The casual mention of "designing parameters" for human suffering sent a collective chill through the assembly.

"Listen to yourself," Tsunade implored, rising to her feet. "This isn't you, Naruto. This isn't the boy who wanted to be Hokage to protect his precious people."

Something flickered in Naruto's eyes—a brief glimpse of the human behind the divinity. But it was gone in an instant, subsumed by that cosmic awareness.

"I've expanded my definition of 'precious people' to include all living beings," he replied. "And I've found a more effective way to protect them than wearing a Kage hat."

With that, his form began to dissolve once more into particles of golden light.

"This meeting is now unnecessary," his voice echoed as he disappeared. "I didn't come to ask permission, only to inform. Change is coming—with or without your cooperation."

In the stunned silence that followed his departure, five of the most powerful humans in the world stared at each other with the same unspoken realization:

They were no longer the shapers of history. They were merely witnesses to it.

"Well," the Tsuchikage finally said, slumping in his chair. "I believe we have our answer about whether he constitutes a threat."

Gaara's eyes remained fixed on the space where Naruto had stood. "Not a threat," he corrected quietly. "A revolution."

# What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

## Chapter 4: Revelation

Thunder split the sky over Konoha, a jagged spike of lightning illuminating the Hokage faces in stark, shadowed relief. Rain hadn't fallen yet—it hung suspended in the atmosphere, a promise of deluge that made the air thick enough to chew.

Below the brooding clouds, thousands gathered in the village square. They pressed together in a churning sea of bodies, necks craned upward, breath collectively held. Civilians stood shoulder-to-shoulder with shinobi, old clan rivalries temporarily forgotten in the electric anticipation of what was to come.

Tsunade surveyed the crowd from the Hokage Tower balcony, sake cup clutched so tightly in her hand that hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the ceramic.

"He didn't even consult us," she muttered, amber eyes narrowing as another flash of lightning cast her face in harsh contrast. "Just sent out a pulse of chakra that everyone in the Five Nations could feel, summoning them like—"

"Like a god calling his followers," Shikamaru finished, slouched against the railing beside her. Despite his characteristic pose, tension radiated from every line of his body. "Troublesome doesn't begin to cover this."

The massive crowd below rippled like disturbed water as latecomers shoved their way forward. Merchants from the Sand, farmers from the valleys, nobles from distant courts—they'd been arriving for days, drawn by rumors and whispers and dreams that many swore Naruto himself had sent.

"Where is Sasuke?" Tsunade demanded, scanning the rooftops where ANBU perched like nervous birds.

Shikamaru's jaw tightened. "Gone. Left last night without a word."

"Coward." The word had barely left Tsunade's lips when Kakashi materialized beside them in a swirl of leaves.

"Not cowardice," he corrected, visible eye grave. "Strategy. He's gathering allies, just in case..."

He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to. The unspoken possibility hung between them—that Naruto might need to be stopped.

A collective gasp surged through the crowd. The air shimmered, molecules vibrating with sudden energy. The clouds overhead began spiraling, forming a perfect vortex directly above the Hokage Monument.

"Here we go," Shikamaru murmured.

Golden light erupted from the center of the vortex—not descending but expanding outward like a newborn sun. The crowd's roar was instantaneous, primal, a sound of awe and terror so ancient it predated language itself.

Naruto materialized within the light, suspended hundreds of feet above the village. His transformation had progressed further—his orange cloak now replaced by flowing white robes edged in black magatama patterns. Six Truth-Seeking Orbs orbited his hovering form, and his hair—longer now—floated around his head in golden tendrils that seemed more light than matter.

"He's not even trying to look human anymore," Kakashi observed, voice tight.

The suspended raindrops in the atmosphere began to glow, each one catching Naruto's light and refracting it downward in thousands of golden beams. The effect was breathtaking—as though stars had descended to dance among the village streets.

When Naruto spoke, his voice carried effortlessly to every ear, resonating not just through air but through chakra itself. He used no jutsu, no amplification—his words simply were, everywhere at once.

"People of the shinobi world," he began, those cosmic eyes sweeping across the gathered thousands. "For too long, we have lived divided. Nations against nations. Village against village. Clan against clan. Human against human."

The crowd hung on his every word, faces upturned in rapture. Many had fallen to their knees, tears streaming unchecked down transfixed faces.

"The cycle of hatred that has defined our existence is not inevitable," Naruto continued, each word resonating with harmonics that vibrated in the chest cavity. "It is a choice—a choice we no longer need to make."

On the tower balcony, Tsunade's knuckles whitened. "What is he doing?"

"Exactly what we feared," Shikamaru replied, eyes never leaving Naruto's glowing form.

Above the village, Naruto spread his arms wide. "Today, I share with you a vision of a different world—a world without borders to fight over, without militaries to maintain those borders, without Hidden Villages training children for war."

A murmur rippled through the crowd—confusion, hope, and fear tangled together like roots.

"He can't seriously think—" Tsunade began.

"I offer you unity," Naruto's voice swelled, cutting through all doubts. "One world, working in harmony. Resources shared equally. Knowledge freely given. Every child born with the same opportunities, regardless of clan or country. Every person valued not for their combat abilities, but for their capacity to create, to heal, to grow."

As he spoke, the Truth-Seeking Orbs expanded, projecting massive three-dimensional images visible to all—breathtaking vistas of shared prosperity, schools replacing military academies, former enemies breaking bread together, the transformation of battlefields into gardens.

It was beautiful. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

And terrifying in its scope.

"This is not merely idle philosophy," Naruto proclaimed. "Beginning today, I will reshape our broken world—not through conquest or coercion, but through healing what generations of conflict have damaged."

From the crowd, a voice rang out—aristocratic, indignant, slicing through the collective trance. "By whose authority?"

Heads turned to locate the speaker—a richly dressed man flanked by samurai guards. The Fire Daimyō himself, crimson robes splattered with mud from his hasty journey, face mottled with outrage.

"The Five Nations have treaties, borders established by blood and sacrifice!" The Daimyō's voice cracked with strain as he pointed an accusing finger skyward. "No single shinobi—not even you, Uzumaki—has the right to dissolve what centuries of diplomacy have built!"

Silence crashed over the crowd, breaths held in collective shock at this blasphemy against their golden savior.

A faint smile touched Naruto's lips—indulgent, almost pitying. "Authority," he repeated, the word rippling through the air. "An interesting concept."

With a gesture so subtle it was almost imperceptible, one of the Truth-Seeking Orbs expanded, projecting the image of a power structure—Daimyō at the top, then Kage, then councils, then clan heads, with civilians and genin at the bottom.

"This hierarchy was created by those who benefit from it," Naruto observed, voice mild but carrying a subtle edge. "It exists through consensus—the agreement of the governed to be governed. But what happens when that consensus shifts?"

Another gesture, and the projected hierarchy dissolved, reshaping into a web of interconnected points, all equal in size.

"What I propose requires no authority but that which resides in each of you—the authority to choose a better way."

The Daimyō's face purpled. "Treasonous philosophy! The Leaf Village will be sanctioned for this—your stipend cut, your missions redirected!" He turned to the crowd, arms spread wide. "Citizens of Fire! Remember your oaths of loyalty!"

Few eyes turned to him. Most remained fixed on Naruto, who observed the Daimyō's outburst with the patient indulgence of an adult watching a child's tantrum.

"Choose as you will," Naruto said, addressing not the Daimyō but the crowd. "I force no one. But to help you decide..."

His eyes closed briefly in concentration. The air hummed, a sound like a million tuning forks struck simultaneously. Then his eyes snapped open, blazing with white-gold power.

Throughout the square—throughout the continent—metal began to sing.

Swords vibrated in sheaths. Kunai rattled in holsters. Shuriken hummed in pouches. Metal armor plates quivered against skin. Every weapon in the five nations resonated with the same frequency, the same chakra signature.

Naruto raised one hand, and every weapon rose with it.

Gasps and screams erupted as swords tore themselves from scabbards, kunai ripped free from leg holsters, hidden senbon extracted themselves from secret pockets. Throughout the square, throughout every village, every town, every hidden base—weapons lifted into the air, suspended by invisible force.

Even in the Hokage Tower, Tsunade's hidden tantō tore itself from her sleeve, hovering before her shocked face.

"What the—" she began, grabbing for it, fingers passing through suddenly intangible metal.

Far above, Naruto made a simple gesture of gathering. In response, all the hovering weapons—millions of them—compressed into gleaming spheres of liquid metal that rose higher, collecting above the clouds in a shimmering silver constellation visible to all.

"For one day," Naruto announced, voice serene despite the staggering display of power, "the shinobi world will know what it means to live without weapons. To solve disputes with words instead of violence. To remember that we were human before we were soldiers."

Silence gripped the crowd, broken only by the distant sound of thunder.

Then a young girl stepped forward—perhaps eight years old, Academy age, with wide eyes and trembling hands. "What if something attacks us while we're defenseless?"

Naruto's expression softened as he looked down at her, and for a moment, a glimpse of his old warmth broke through the divine mask.

"Nothing will harm you today," he promised, the words carrying the weight of absolute certainty. "Not while I watch over all."

The girl smiled, fear melting from her face.

Beside her, a village elder—his face carved with the deep lines of someone who had survived three shinobi wars—spat on the ground. "Pretty words from a pretty god," he sneered. "But humans need structure, boy! Authority! Without the Kage system, without military deterrence, we'll be at each other's throats within a week!"

Murmurs of agreement rose from some quarters—mostly older shinobi, clan elders, those with power in the existing system. But they were quickly drowned out by a swelling chorus of approval from the majority.

"A world without war..."

"No more children dying on missions..."

"Finally, peace in our time..."

The crowd's energy shifted, hope igniting like wildfire. And as it spread, something else awakened in their expressions—something ancient and primal.

Adoration.

One by one, then in waves, people knelt. First civilians, then younger shinobi, then clan members. They bowed their heads, not in submission but in worship.

"Sage..."

"Savior..."

"Guide us..."

The whispers became a chant, the chant a prayer.

On the tower balcony, Shikamaru's face hardened. "And there it is."

"What?" Tsunade demanded, though she already knew.

"The moment humanity does what it always does when confronted with power it doesn't understand." Kakashi's voice was flat. "It worships."

Above the village, Naruto observed the kneeling multitude, his expression unreadable. Something flickered in those cosmic eyes—hesitation? Concern? But if it was there, it vanished as quickly as it appeared, submerged beneath the serenity of his new nature.

"Rise," he commanded gently. "I seek no worship. Only understanding."

But as the crowd stood, the damage was done. The shift had occurred. In their eyes, he was no longer Naruto Uzumaki—he was something more.

With another gesture, Naruto released the glow from the suspended raindrops. As their light faded, the rain finally began to fall—warm and gentle, washing over upturned faces.

"Consider what I've shown you," he said, beginning to dissolve once more into particles of golden light. "Tomorrow, your weapons will return. Your choices will remain your own. But know that change is coming—a healing of our fractured world."

His form dispersed, final words lingering in the rain-washed air: "And know that I will be watching over you all."

The crowd stood motionless for long moments after he vanished, rain soaking through clothes, plastering hair to dazed faces. Then slowly, they began to disperse—but the conversations that bubbled up carried a fervent, zealous energy.

From the Hokage Tower, Tsunade watched citizens embracing in the streets, shinobi removing their headbands to stare at the village symbols with newfound uncertainty.

"We're losing them," she realized aloud. "One speech, and he's undoing generations of village loyalty."

"People crave hope," Kakashi murmured. "And he's offering it wholesale."

Shikamaru pushed wet hair from his eyes. "Where do you think he went?"

Even as he asked, the answer revealed itself on the horizon. Far to the west, at the Valley of the End where Naruto and Sasuke had fought their most significant battles, a column of golden light shot skyward.

The light expanded, taking form—an impossible structure manifesting from pure chakra. A floating temple, suspended between heaven and earth, its architecture unlike anything in the Five Nations—part traditional shrine, part organic living structure. Golden roots extended downward, not quite touching the earth. Crystal spires reached upward, piercing the storm clouds. The entire structure pulsed with living light, as though breathing.

"His seat of power," Tsunade whispered, the sake cup finally shattering in her grip. "Gods help us all."

---

Hinata approached the Valley of the End as sunset painted the sky in bruised purples and bleeding reds. The waterfall thundered beside her, its constant roar a counterpoint to the hammering of her heart.

Above, Naruto's temple hung suspended in apparent defiance of all natural law—an impossible palace of light and living chakra. No stairs led to its entrance. No clear path presented itself.

She stood at the cliff edge, uncertainty freezing her in place.

"Naruto-kun," she whispered, the words lost beneath the waterfall's crash.

Golden light flared around her, and suddenly she was rising—lifted by invisible hands, carried upward through cool mist toward the floating sanctuary. Fear clutched at her throat, but she forced it down. This was still Naruto. Still the boy she had loved since childhood.

Wasn't it?

She alighted on a platform of semi-translucent crystal, its surface warm beneath her sandals despite its appearance. Before her stretched an open archway leading into the temple proper—a space that seemed both vast and intimate simultaneously, dimensions shifting subtly as she tried to focus on them.

"Hinata."

Naruto's voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Then he materialized before her, golden light coalescing into his now-familiar divine form. The white robes he wore seemed to merge with his glowing skin at certain angles, boundaries between cloth and flesh blurring.

"You came," he said, and for a moment—just a moment—she glimpsed the old Naruto in his smile.

"Of course I did." She took a hesitant step forward, then another. "Everyone's talking about what happened in the village. Your speech. The weapons."

"And what do you think?" His eyes studied her with unsettling intensity—those concentric ripples that had replaced his once-vibrant blue.

Hinata had rehearsed her words a hundred times on the journey here. Now they evaporated like morning mist. Instead, raw honesty spilled out.

"I'm scared, Naruto."

His head tilted, that curious bird-like gesture he'd developed. "Of me?"

"For you." She moved closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his form. "You're changing so fast. Becoming something... something beyond us."

"Beyond human, you mean." There was no accusation in his tone, just calm acknowledgment.

"Yes."

He gestured for her to follow, leading her deeper into the temple. The interior defied normal architecture—spaces opening into other spaces that shouldn't fit, gardens growing from walls, water flowing upward in gentle spirals. At the center stood a meditation platform surrounded by floating pools of what looked like liquid starlight.

"Do you know why I created this place?" Naruto asked, moving to stand at the platform's edge.

Hinata shook her head.

"Because I needed somewhere to think." A wry smile ghosted across his lips. "Ironic, isn't it? With all this power, all this awareness, what I need most is quiet contemplation."

"To think about what?"

"Everything." He waved a hand, and the liquid starlight responded, forming a miniature model of the continent. "The path forward. The balance between intervention and free will. The nature of suffering and growth." His eyes found hers. "Whether what I'm becoming is something the world needs—or something it should fear."

Hope flickered in Hinata's chest. "You still question yourself. That's... that's good, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Naruto's gaze turned inward. "Questions slow action. And there is so much suffering that needs immediate resolution."

"But questions also prevent mistakes," she countered, finding courage in her desperation to reach him. "The Naruto I knew understood the value of listening to others, of acknowledging his limitations."

Something hardened in his expression. "The 'Naruto you knew' couldn't see the full pattern, Hinata. Couldn't perceive the interconnected web of cause and effect that creates cyclical suffering."

"And you can?"

"Yes." The word rang with absolute conviction.

Hinata took a shaky breath, then stepped onto the meditation platform beside him. "Show me, then. Help me understand what you see."

Surprise flickered across his face, then something like gratitude. He reached for her hand, hesitated, then took it in his own.

The contact sent lightning through her system—not just the familiar butterflies of touching her beloved, but something deeper, more profound. His chakra rolled over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her consciousness in its vastness.

"Careful," he murmured, modulating the flow. "Just a glimpse."

The world fell away. Suddenly Hinata saw through Naruto's eyes—not physically, but perceptually. The chakra network of the entire continent blazed before her mind's eye—billions of interconnected nodes, flowing energies, patterns within patterns within patterns. She saw how a drought in one nation created political pressure that manifested as border skirmishes three countries away. How childhood trauma in key political figures manifested as trade policies that starved distant villages. How the Hidden Village system created artificial scarcity of knowledge that perpetuated power imbalances across generations.

It was beautiful. Terrible. Overwhelming in its complexity and its simplicity.

When Naruto released her hand, she staggered, gasping for breath.

"That's... that's how you see the world now?" she managed, voice shaking.

"All the time," he confirmed. "Every waking moment."

Tears sprang to her eyes—tears of understanding and grief. "It must be so lonely."

Something cracked in his divine composure—a flash of the boy behind the god. "It is," he admitted, voice suddenly vulnerable. "No one else can see it. No one else understands."

Hinata reached for his face, palm pressing against his cheek. His skin felt almost normal, just slightly too warm, too smooth. "I may not see what you see, but I see you, Naruto. I've always seen you."

For a heartbeat, he leaned into her touch, eyes closing. The gesture was so achingly human that hope surged in her chest.

"Come back to us," she whispered. "Not forever—just enough to remember what it means to be human. To be one of us."

His eyes snapped open, that cosmic awareness flooding back. He stepped away from her touch, and the moment of connection shattered.

"That's the problem, Hinata," he said, voice regaining its harmonic resonance. "I remember exactly what it means to be human—to be limited, to suffer, to cause suffering through ignorance." He turned, white robes swirling around him. "I can't go back to that blindness, not when I can finally see the solutions."

"Solutions imposed from above are rarely embraced from below," she countered, desperation edging her voice. "People need to find their own way, make their own mistakes—"

"Even when those mistakes kill innocent children? Create famines? Start wars?" His voice remained gentle, but unyielding steel ran beneath it. "How much suffering should I allow in the name of human autonomy, Hinata?"

She had no answer—none that would satisfy the cosmic calculus he now employed.

"I still love you," she said instead, the words torn from her heart. "The real you. The human you."

Something infinitely sad passed across his features. "That Naruto still exists, Hinata. He's just... expanded. Grown into something that can do more good than that orphaned boy ever dreamed possible."

Before she could respond, a pulse of chakra surged through the temple—an alert system of some kind. Naruto's attention snapped elsewhere, eyes focusing on something far beyond the temple walls.

"Someone seeks audience," he murmured. Then, with a gesture, he opened a portal in the air beside them—a perfect circle of normal reality amidst the temple's otherworldly architecture.

Through it, Hinata could see the temple's outer platform where Sakura stood, pink hair whipping in the high-altitude winds, determination set in the lines of her face.

"Go," Naruto said gently to Hinata. "She comes with medical concerns, tests she believes will help understand my transformation." A sad smile touched his lips. "She'll be disappointed. The changes aren't physical anymore."

Hinata wanted to protest, to stay, to try again to reach the human core still buried within him. But the portal pulled at her, and his will guided her toward it with gentle inexorability.

"Visit again," he said, and for a flickering instant, his eyes were blue again—hopeful, warm, Naruto's eyes. "Few come seeking connection rather than miracles or answers. It... helps me remember."

Then she was through the portal, standing beside a startled Sakura on the outer platform, the gateway closing behind her.

"Hinata? What are you—" Sakura began.

"Trying to reach him," she answered simply, heart heavy with the knowledge of how completely she had failed.

Sakura's medical pack hung from her shoulder, bulging with equipment. "Any luck?"

"Momentary. Fleeting." Hinata wiped unexpected tears from her cheeks. "He's still in there, Sakura. But the distance keeps growing."

The temple entrance shimmered, and Naruto appeared—not through a door but simply manifesting, as though the boundary between his being and the temple's structure was becoming increasingly fluid.

"Sakura," he greeted, voice warm but remote. "You bring questions about my transformation."

The medic-nin squared her shoulders. "As your doctor and your friend, I'm concerned about the physiological changes you're undergoing. Your chakra pathways are expanding in ways I've never seen documented. Your cellular structure is—"

"Transcending physical limitations," he finished for her. "I know."

Frustration flashed across Sakura's face. "Naruto, you can't just dismiss medical concerns because you think you're becoming a god!"

"I've claimed no godhood," he corrected gently. "Just expanded awareness."

"Expanded awareness doesn't remove the need for medical oversight!"

Naruto smiled—that patient, distant smile that had become his default expression. "Your concern is appreciated. But unnecessary." He gestured to his form. "This body is becoming more of a vessel and less of a limitation. The physical changes you wish to measure are merely symptoms of a deeper transformation."

"And what transformation is that, exactly?" Sakura demanded, green eyes flashing. "Because from where I'm standing, my friend is disappearing into some cosmic entity that talks like a philosophy textbook and treats human concerns like annoying distractions!"

Something flickered in Naruto's eyes—a flash of the old fire, quickly contained. "I understand why it seems that way to you," he said, voice softening. "From your perspective, I've changed too much, too quickly."

"Damn right you have!"

"But consider this," he continued, unruffled by her outburst. "When a child grows into an adult, they gain perspective that makes their childhood concerns seem small. Not invalid—just situated within a larger context."

"Are you seriously comparing the rest of us to children?" Sakura's voice rose dangerously.

"No," Naruto said, then paused. "Yes. In a way." He sighed, the sound carrying genuine regret. "There's no comparison that doesn't sound condescending, is there? That's part of the loneliness of this path."

The simple admission—that acknowledgment of isolation—deflated Sakura's anger somewhat. Her medical training kicked in, eyes narrowing in clinical assessment.

"You're still experiencing human emotions," she observed. "Loneliness. Frustration. That's good, Naruto. That means you're still connected to your humanity."

"I never said I wasn't," he replied. "I've evolved, not abandoned what I was."

"Then help me understand," Sakura pressed, stepping closer. "As a medic, as your friend. What is this transformation leading toward?"

Naruto was silent for a moment, those cosmic eyes distant, as though consulting some inner knowledge. When he spoke, his voice carried that harmonic resonance that made the air itself vibrate.

"I'm beginning to understand why the Sage limited his interventions," he said, gazing out over the valley below. "Human growth requires some suffering—but I can design better parameters for that growth."

The words hung in the air, chilling both women to the bone.

"Parameters?" Sakura repeated, horror creeping into her voice. "You're talking about controlling human development. Engineering society."

"Guiding," Naruto corrected. "With a lighter touch than you fear."

"You can't reshape humanity according to your vision!" Sakura exploded. "No matter how evolved you think you've become, that's the definition of tyranny!"

"Is a parent tyrannical for childproofing a home?" Naruto asked, head tilting in that curious, inhuman angle. "For establishing boundaries that protect while allowing growth?"

"We're not children!" Sakura's fists clenched at her sides, chakra flaring in response to her emotions.

"No," Naruto agreed, surprising her. "You're not. You're complex beings with free will and autonomy that must be respected." His expression grew more intense, more alien. "But you're also beings caught in patterns of behavior that guarantee suffering—patterns you can't see from your limited perspective."

Hinata, who had been silent during this exchange, finally spoke. "And you believe you can break these patterns?"

"I know I can." The words carried absolute certainty—not arrogance, but the simple conviction of someone stating an obvious fact. "Not by force. Not by control. But by healing the root causes of conflict—scarcity, fear, trauma passed through generations."

"Pretty words," Sakura muttered. "But I notice you're still not submitting to medical examination."

A ghost of Naruto's old smile flickered across his face. "Would it help you accept what's happening if I did?"

"Yes!"

"Very well." He gestured, and a portion of the temple floor rose up, forming a perfect examination table. "Ask your questions. Run your tests. I have nothing to hide."

For the next hour, Sakura worked with focused intensity, running every diagnostic jutsu in her considerable arsenal. She measured chakra flows, tested reflexes, examined cellular samples, and documented the structural changes in Naruto's eyes. Hinata assisted with her Byakugan, tracking chakra pathways that had expanded far beyond normal human capacity.

Throughout it all, Naruto remained perfectly cooperative, answering questions with patience, holding still for examinations. But there was something performative about his compliance—as though he were humoring them, knowing the exercise was ultimately futile.

Finally, Sakura sat back, medical scrolls spread around her covered in hastily scribbled notes.

"Well?" Naruto asked, though his tone suggested he already knew her conclusions.

"You're not human anymore," she said bluntly. "At least, not according to any medical definition I know." She tapped a scroll showing his cellular structure. "Your cells have developed an unprecedented ability to convert natural energy directly into physical matter. Your chakra network has expanded exponentially, with pathways now extending beyond your physical form."

"And?" he prompted gently.

Sakura's shoulders slumped. "And there's nothing physically wrong with you. Nothing I can point to and say 'this needs treatment' or 'this is causing harm.' You're just... evolving into something else."

"As I said." Naruto rose from the examination table, which sank seamlessly back into the temple floor. "The changes aren't a disease to be cured, Sakura. They're an awakening."

"But an awakening to what?" Hinata asked, the question that had haunted her for weeks finally finding voice. "What is the endpoint of this transformation, Naruto? What will you ultimately become?"

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his divine features. "I don't know," he admitted. "I can see so much—the past, the present, countless possible futures—but my own destination remains... unclear."

The admission should have been reassuring. Instead, it sent a chill through both women. Even Naruto, with his cosmic awareness, couldn't predict what he was becoming.

"But I do know this," he continued, certainty returning to his voice. "Whatever form my evolution takes, its purpose remains constant—to heal what is broken in our world. To end the cycle of hatred that has defined human existence."

"At what cost?" Sakura challenged. "How much of Naruto Uzumaki will be left when this 'evolution' is complete?"

He regarded her with those ancient, cosmic eyes. "Change always requires sacrifice, Sakura. You cannot become what you're meant to be while clinging to what you were."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have." Regret tinged his voice. "I can feel it coming—another transformation, greater than what I've experienced so far. A final threshold between what I am and what I will become."

The temple trembled slightly around them, responding to his emotions.

"But enough about me," Naruto said, visibly shifting focus. "People have begun arriving at the base of the valley—pilgrims seeking healing, guidance, blessings." He sounded simultaneously honored and wearied by this development. "They've been coming since dawn, and their numbers grow by the hour."

"Worshippers," Sakura said flatly. "They're not pilgrims, Naruto. They're worshippers."

"They're suffering people seeking help," he corrected gently. "However they conceptualize me is their choice, not mine."

"You could discourage it," Hinata suggested. "Tell them you're not a god."

"I have," he said simply. "Some listen. Most prefer their own interpretation." A faint, sad smile touched his lips. "People believe what brings them comfort, Hinata. If faith in me helps them find peace, what harm does it do?"

Sakura's eyes widened in alarm. "You're starting to accept it," she realized aloud. "The worship. The adoration. You're rationalizing it."

"I'm being practical," Naruto countered. "Fighting their perception wastes energy better spent helping them."

Before either woman could respond, the temple trembled again—more forcefully this time. Naruto's head snapped up, those cosmic eyes narrowing in sudden focus.

"You should go," he said, all warmth draining from his voice. "Both of you. Now."

"What is it?" Hinata activated her Byakugan, scanning beyond the temple walls. "What's happening?"

"Sasuke has returned," Naruto replied, voice unnervingly flat. "And he's not alone."

The air before them tore open—not a gentle portal like before, but a violent rift in reality. Through it, Hinata glimpsed a gathering of powerful figures on the cliffs below: Sasuke at the center, surrounded by the five Kage, several clan leaders, and a number of unfamiliar shinobi with grim expressions.

"They come to oppose me," Naruto observed, no emotion coloring the words. "To 'check my growing power and influence' as they see it."

Sakura stepped forward, panic flooding her features. "Naruto, please—don't fight them. Talk to them. Remember they're your friends, your mentors."

"Friends don't gather armies in secret," he replied, already walking toward the rift. "But don't worry, Sakura. I won't harm them. No matter what they attempt."

Golden light began to engulf his form as he prepared to meet the challenge below. But before he stepped through the rift, he paused, glancing back at the two women.

"I once thought acknowledgment from others was what I needed most," he said, something like the old Naruto peeking through his divine mask. "Now I understand that what the world needs most is someone who sees it clearly—who can look beyond human shortsightedness to heal wounds centuries in the making."

He turned away, passing through the rift without another word, leaving Hinata and Sakura staring at each other in mounting dread.

"He's going to hurt them," Sakura whispered.

Hinata shook her head, Byakugan still activated, watching the confrontation begin below. "No," she murmured. "What frightens me is that he won't need to."

# What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

## Chapter 5: Opposition

Dawn fractured against the jagged horizon, blood-orange light spilling across the Valley of the End like a wound. Sasuke Uchiha stood at the precipice, mismatched eyes fixed on the floating temple that hovered impossibly above the churning waterfall. The air around him crackled with barely-contained lightning chakra, tiny blue sparks dancing between his fingers.

"He'll sense us coming," Tsunade muttered, adjusting her gloves with sharp, nervous tugs. "Hell, he probably knew our plan before we did."

Sasuke didn't bother responding. Of course Naruto knew they were here. That wasn't the point.

The coalition had gathered in the pre-dawn darkness—an unprecedented alliance born of desperation. The Five Kage stood in a loose semicircle behind Sasuke: Tsunade with jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth; Gaara, sand swirling anxiously around his feet; the Raikage, A, lightning armor already humming beneath his skin; the stoic Tsuchikage, floating slightly off the ground to ease his ancient back; and the Mizukage, Mei, mist curling from her lips with each measured breath.

Flanking them, a handpicked squad of elite shinobi shuffled uneasily—Kakashi with his newly restored Sharingan exposed, Shikamaru mumbling possible strategies under his breath, and a dozen others representing the most powerful clans across the Five Nations.

"Remember," Kakashi's voice cut through the tension, "this isn't about defeating him. It's about reaching him."

A bitter laugh escaped the Raikage's throat. "Tell that to the seal masters." He jerked his head toward the six robed figures kneeling in the dirt, frantically painting containment arrays in chakra-infused ink. "They didn't come to talk."

"They're a contingency," Tsunade snapped. "A last resort."

"They're an insult," Gaara corrected softly, eyes never leaving the floating temple. "One he'll recognize immediately."

Sasuke unsheathed his sword in one fluid motion, the blade catching dawn's fire. "Enough debate. He's coming."

The air above them shimmered, molecules vibrating as reality itself bent under divine will. Golden light spilled through the tear, blinding in its intensity, forcing several shinobi to shield their eyes. Naruto descended through the rift—not falling but floating with deliberate grace—his white robes whipping around him in a wind that affected nothing else. The Truth-Seeking Orbs orbited his form like obsidian planets around a golden sun.

He touched down thirty paces from them, bare feet not quite connecting with the earth—hovering just a finger's width above the soil. Those cosmic, ringed eyes surveyed the assembly with impossible calm.

"Sasuke," he greeted, voice layered with harmonics that vibrated in the chest cavity. "You've brought friends."

The casual observation carried no fear, no anger—just mild interest, as though commenting on unexpected dinner guests.

"Not friends," Sasuke responded, raising his blade. "Witnesses."

A flicker of something almost human crossed Naruto's face—a brief flash of hurt quickly subsumed beneath divine detachment. "To what, exactly?"

"To us stopping you before you go too far." Tsunade stepped forward, chakra flaring as she prepared her strongest techniques. "This has to end, Naruto."

His head tilted, that curious bird-like motion that had become signature. "What needs to end, Hokage? The healing of nations? The prevention of natural disasters? The resolution of conflicts before they claim innocent lives?"

"The playing god!" A snarled, lightning crackling along his massive frame. "You think yourself above us, above human concerns—above authority!"

"Not above," Naruto corrected gently. "Beyond. There's a difference."

The Raikage roared, patience shattered. Lightning exploded from his body as he launched forward, moving faster than most eyes could track—a thunderbolt given human form.

Naruto didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just lifted two fingers in a negligent gesture.

The Raikage's lightning cloak vanished mid-stride. Momentum carried his now-powerless body forward three more steps before confusion registered. He stumbled, nearly falling, as his signature technique dissipated like morning mist.

"What—" he gasped, staring at his hands in disbelief.

"I've temporarily redirected your lightning chakra," Naruto explained, voice gentle as though speaking to a confused child. "It will return when your intent to harm fades."

Cold dread washed through the assembly. One gesture—that's all it had taken to neutralize one of the most powerful shinobi alive.

The Tsuchikage grunted, ancient hands forming seals with surprising speed. "Dust Release: Detachment of the Primitive World!" he bellowed.

A translucent cube materialized around Naruto, molecular bonds within the space beginning to sever. It was a technique that could disintegrate anything caught within—a jutsu that had felled countless enemies.

Naruto glanced at it with academic interest, then simply stepped forward, passing through the technique as though it were an illusion. The cube collapsed behind him, dissolving into harmless particles.

"Fascinating approach," he commented, still unnervingly calm. "But you're trying to affect the physical structure of a being that's partially transcended physicality."

The Mizukage didn't waste time with words. Lava and acid sprayed from her mouth in a deadly combination that would melt stone and flesh alike. The caustic mixture engulfed Naruto completely, obscuring his form in a roiling cloud of toxic steam.

When it cleared, he stood untouched, not even his white robes marked by the assault.

"Please," he said, and for a moment—just a moment—a flash of the old Naruto shone through. "I don't want to fight you. Any of you."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, Sharingan and Rinnegan spinning in agitated assessment. "You're neutralizing our techniques before they even touch you," he observed. "Reading the chakra shape and disrupting it at the formation stage."

A ghost of a smile touched Naruto's lips. "Very good, Sasuke. Always the quickest to understand."

Shikamaru stepped forward, hands raised in the shadow possession seal. His shadow stretched across the ground, dividing and multiplying as it raced toward Naruto. "Then let's try something less direct."

The shadow reached Naruto's feet—and passed right through, unable to find purchase on something that cast no true shadow of its own.

"Interesting," Naruto murmured, genuine curiosity in his voice. "You almost had me there. My connection to the earth is tenuous enough that your shadow couldn't quite bind me."

The seal masters at the perimeter completed their work, activation chakra flooding the massive containment array. Glowing chains erupted from the earth, reminiscent of Kushina Uzumaki's legendary technique, but enhanced with five-nation collaborative fuinjutsu. The chains whipped toward Naruto from all directions, designed specifically to bind tailed beasts and divine chakra.

For the first time, Naruto frowned. Not in fear, but in disappointment.

"So it comes to this," he murmured. With a casual wave of his hand, the chains froze mid-air, vibrating with the strain of opposing forces. "Treating me like a bijuu to be contained? Like a weapon to be sealed?"

His eyes swept across the assembled shinobi, focusing finally on Tsunade. "Is that all I am to you now? A threat to be neutralized?"

The hurt in his voice—so human, so raw—made several shinobi flinch. But Tsunade held her ground.

"What did you expect?" she demanded. "You've declared yourself beyond human authority. You've built a floating temple where you receive worshippers. You've started collecting disciples, giving them fragments of your power to enforce your will!"

"To help people," Naruto corrected, but something uncertain flickered in those cosmic eyes. "To extend healing where I cannot be physically present."

"Your 'disciples' stopped a protest in the Land of Rivers last week," Shikamaru interjected, voice cutting. "Not with words. Not with understanding. With force—divine force channeled through mortal vessels who believe they're carrying out the will of a god."

Naruto's expression shifted, surprise momentarily breaking through his serenity. "I... did not authorize that."

"That's the problem with godhood," Kakashi said quietly. "Followers interpret. Zealots extrapolate. Words become doctrine, and doctrine becomes justification."

A troubling shadow passed over Naruto's features. With a subtle gesture, he shattered the frozen chains, their fragments dissolving into golden dust that scattered on the morning breeze.

"You still see me through human eyes," he said, voice heavy with ancient patience. "You measure my actions against human standards of governance and control. But I'm not creating a new government or religion. I'm healing a broken world."

"By breaking its free will?" Sasuke challenged, taking a step forward. "By deciding for humanity what's best?"

"By removing obstacles to peace and balance," Naruto countered. "What you call 'free will' is often just ignorance or manipulation. Most human choices are made in blindness—without seeing the full web of cause and effect."

"And you see it all?" the Tsuchikage scoffed.

"Yes." The simple word carried absolute conviction.

Sasuke's patience snapped. With blinding speed, he activated his perfect Susanoo, the massive chakra construct materializing around him in a burst of violent purple energy. The spectral warrior towered over the valley, sword raised, eyes blazing.

"Enough talk," he growled, voice distorted through the Susanoo's ethereal form. "If words won't reach you, perhaps pain still can."

The massive sword swung down with mountain-shattering force. Naruto didn't dodge. Didn't raise a defensive technique. He simply looked up, those cosmic eyes meeting Sasuke's mis-matched gaze through the Susanoo's spectral armor.

The sword froze mid-swing, trembling with effort.

"I can see every flow of chakra that maintains your technique," Naruto explained quietly. "Every linkage, every resonance point, every fluctuation. Breaking it would be simple—but I won't do that to you, Sasuke."

Instead of attacking, Naruto did something far more devastating. He reached out with his awareness and gently—almost tenderly—suppressed the chakra pathways that powered the Susanoo. The massive construct dissolved like sugar in hot tea, particles of purple energy scattering to reveal Sasuke standing vulnerable, sword still raised in suddenly empty hands.

"This is the difference between us now," Naruto continued, voice soft with regret. "You seek to destroy what you don't understand. I seek to heal what I can finally see clearly."

A frustrated snarl escaped Sasuke's throat as he lunged forward, Chidori erupting from his hand—only to dissipate before it fully formed. In desperation, he swung his sword directly at Naruto's neck.

The blade passed through him as though striking mist.

Naruto didn't counterattack. Didn't restrain. He simply stood there, allowing Sasuke to exhaust himself with strikes that couldn't connect, techniques that dissolved before completion. Throughout it all, sorrow deepened in those cosmic eyes—sorrow and something worse: pity.

"Are you done?" he asked when Sasuke finally stood panting, frustration etched in every line of his face.

"Not even close," Sasuke growled, but the defeat in his voice was palpable.

The assembled shinobi watched in stunned silence. The gap between their power and Naruto's wasn't just wide—it was unbridgeable. He had neutralized the Five Kage's strongest techniques without apparent effort. Without causing harm. Without breaking a sweat.

And that, perhaps, was the most terrifying realization of all.

In the silence, footsteps approached from behind the coalition forces. The crowd parted to reveal Gaara walking forward, alone and unarmed, sand swirling lazily around his feet in non-threatening patterns. Unlike the others, he hadn't participated in the attack.

"Naruto," he said simply, voice carrying across the suddenly still battleground.

Something softened in Naruto's cosmic gaze. "Gaara."

The Kazekage stopped an arm's length from his old friend, studying the divine being before him with eyes that had witnessed their own form of transformation years before.

"Do you remember," Gaara began, voice quiet but carrying in the tense silence, "when you told me that shared pain was the beginning of understanding? That your acknowledgment of my existence saved me from the darkness?"

A flicker of recognition passed over Naruto's face—a memory from a more human time.

"I remember," he said.

"You reached me when no one else could," Gaara continued, "not with power, but with understanding. With empathy." His pale green eyes never left Naruto's cosmic gaze. "You showed me that true strength comes from protecting others, not controlling them."

Naruto didn't respond, but something in his posture shifted—a subtle tension, a crack in the divine mask.

"I recognize the path you're walking," Gaara pressed. "I walked it before you. When I thought my existence could only be validated through domination and fear."

"That's not what I'm doing," Naruto objected, but uncertainty had crept into his voice.

"Isn't it?" Gaara's question hung in the air between them. "You believe your vision is perfect, your understanding complete. You've decided that humanity needs your guidance—your control—to achieve peace."

"I seek to heal, not control."

"You seek to reshape the world according to your will," Gaara countered, sand swirling more agitatedly around his feet as emotion crept into his normally stoic demeanor. "How is that different from what I once sought? From what Madara sought? From what Pain sought?"

The comparison struck Naruto like a physical blow. He actually flinched, golden light fluctuating around his form.

"I'm nothing like them," he insisted, but doubt had wormed its way through the certainty.

Gaara took another step closer—close enough now that any of Naruto's Truth-Seeking Orbs could have obliterated him in an instant. "They too believed they were saviors. They too saw a broken world that needed fixing. The difference was only in method, not intent."

For a breathless moment, something shifted in Naruto's eyes—a flicker of blue breaking through the cosmic ripples, a glimpse of the human still wrestling with divinity. The assembled shinobi held their breath, hope kindling that Gaara's words had reached him.

Then the moment passed. Divine serenity washed back over Naruto's features, more complete and impenetrable than before.

"I understand your concern, Gaara," he said, voice once again layered with those unsettling harmonics. "But you're making a fundamental error in your comparison."

He gestured, and reality bent around his hand, creating a window through which they could see distant villages, teeming cities, children playing in peace.

"Madara, Pain, even your younger self—all sought to impose order through fear and pain," Naruto continued. "I seek to remove the underlying causes of suffering. Not through force, but through healing what is broken in our world's fabric."

The window expanded, showing more scenes: barren lands suddenly flourishing, sick children becoming healthy, warring villages laying down arms as resources appeared in abundance.

"This is not control," Naruto insisted. "This is liberation from systems that have constrained human potential for generations."

Gaara's expression remained troubled. "And those who don't want your version of liberation? What of their free will, Naruto?"

Something cold and alien flashed through those cosmic eyes—a glimpse of the truly inhuman calculation taking place behind them.

"What you call 'free will' is often just programming—cultural conditioning, trauma responses, manipulations by those with power. True freedom can only come when those shackles are broken."

A chill swept through the assembled shinobi. The words sounded reasonable, even compassionate—but the implication was terrifying. Naruto had appointed himself the arbiter of which choices were "true" freedom and which were "conditioning" to be overcome.

"You've gone too far," Sasuke said quietly, having recovered enough to stand at Gaara's side. "You're not healing the world anymore. You're remaking it in your image."

Pain flashed across Naruto's face—genuine, human pain. "You still don't understand. None of you do." Golden light flared around him, pulsing with his emotions. "I can see the patterns! The cycles of violence that will continue for generations unless the underlying causes are addressed!"

"Then show us," Gaara urged. "Help us understand. Work with humanity, not above it."

For a moment—one heartbreaking moment—indecision gripped Naruto's features. The human within him struggling against the divine perspective that had consumed so much of his original self.

Then his expression hardened, cosmic awareness flooding back with terrifying finality.

"I've tried," he said simply. "Your perspectives are too limited by your experiences, your positions, your investment in the existing order."

Before anyone could respond, Naruto's form began to dissolve into particles of golden light.

"I need to contemplate this confrontation," his voice echoed as his physical form dissipated. "To understand why those I once called friends now see me as an enemy to be contained."

"Naruto, wait—!" Tsunade stepped forward, hand outstretched, but it was already too late.

"I'll return when I've found clarity," his disembodied voice promised as the last motes of light winked out. "When I better understand the path forward."

And then he was gone, leaving behind a coalition of the world's most powerful shinobi standing in stunned silence, the taste of defeat bitter on their tongues.

"Well," the Raikage finally said, flexing his hands as his lightning chakra slowly returned, "that went about as poorly as possible."

"No," Sasuke contradicted, sheathing his sword with a sharp click. "Poor would be if he'd decided to stop humoring us and actually fight back."

Uncomfortable silence followed this observation.

"He's retreating to meditate," Kakashi noted, pulling his headband back down over his Sharingan. "That could be good. It means he's still questioning his path."

"Or consolidating his power for the next phase," the Tsuchikage countered grimly.

Shikamaru stared at the floating temple, calculations running behind his sharp eyes. "Either way, we've learned something critical today."

"That we can't oppose him directly," Tsunade supplied, frustration evident in her clenched fists.

"No," Shikamaru corrected. "That he still cares what we think. He could have ignored us entirely. The fact that he came, that he tried to explain himself..." He trailed off, mind racing ahead to implications and strategies.

"He's still Naruto, somewhere in there," Gaara finished, sand settling in defeated swirls around his feet. "The question is whether that part of him will survive what comes next."

---

Miles away, in villages and towns across the continent, crowds gathered around makeshift shrines. Candles flickered before crude drawings of a golden figure with rippled eyes. Prayers whispered from fervent lips, offerings laid reverently on hastily constructed altars.

"The Golden Sage brought rain to our drought-stricken fields," a farmer told wide-eyed listeners in a Land of Fire tavern. "I saw him with my own eyes, floating above the cracked earth. Light poured from his hands into the soil, and the next morning—crops sprouting everywhere!"

"My daughter was dying," a woman testified in a Wind Country marketplace, tears streaming down weathered cheeks. "The medics had given up. Then He came in a dream and touched her forehead. She woke the next morning completely healed!"

"His disciples passed through our village," a town elder recounted to nodding followers. "Their eyes shining with his light. They cleansed our poisoned well with a touch, then told us the Golden Sage watches over all who suffer."

With each retelling, the stories grew. Miracles multiplied. The human Naruto faded further from memory, replaced by an increasingly mythologized savior figure. Street-corner prophets preached his wisdom, interpreting his sparse words into elaborate doctrines. Some called for the dismantling of Hidden Villages in his name. Others claimed he demanded absolute pacifism from his followers. Still others insisted he wanted worshippers to abandon material possessions.

None of it was true. All of it was believed.

And in shadowy places, radical elements began organizing. If the Golden Sage sought to reshape the world, they would help—by forcing the changes he seemed to desire. Village elders who opposed his new vision were threatened. Daimyō who spoke against him found their estates vandalized. Shinobi who publicly questioned his divinity faced harassment from zealous civilians.

Naruto had created no religion, established no doctrine. But humans, faced with power they couldn't comprehend, did what humans had always done—they created meaning, structure, and ultimately, violence in the name of their new god.

---

Deep within his floating temple, Naruto sat cross-legged in his meditation chamber, surrounded by swirling patterns of cosmic energy. His consciousness expanded outward, perceiving the entirety of the continent in a single, overwhelming awareness. He could sense every life, every emotion, every prayer directed toward him.

The sensation was simultaneously exhilarating and horrifying.

"**They worship you now,**" Kurama's voice rumbled from the depths of their shared consciousness—the Nine-Tails having remained unusually quiet throughout Naruto's transformation. "**Just as they once worshipped the Sage himself.**"

"I never asked for worship," Naruto responded, voice echoing in the meditation chamber despite his unmoving lips.

"**The old man didn't ask for it either,**" Kurama noted, massive tails swishing thoughtfully in their mental landscape. "**But humans need symbols, kit. Stories to make sense of powers beyond their comprehension.**"

Naruto's awareness swept across a distant village where followers were attacking a government building in his name. With a thought, he dispatched two of his disciples to stop the violence—enhanced humans who carried fragments of his power, bound to his will through freely given devotion.

"They're misinterpreting everything," he murmured, tracking a dozen similar outbreaks across the continent. "Twisting my words, my intentions."

"**Of course they are,**" Kurama snorted. "**They're human. Messy, complicated, and terrified of what they don't understand. Including you.**"

Naruto's expanded consciousness brushed against the coalition that had confronted him earlier. He could sense their fear, their determination, their desperate planning to find some way to contain him. The hurt this caused surprised him—after all this evolution, he still felt pain at their rejection.

"They think I've lost myself," he said softly. "Become something monstrous."

Kurama's massive eye opened in their shared mindscape, fixing Naruto with an ancient, evaluating stare. "**Haven't you?**"

The question hung between them, unanswered.

Naruto's awareness continued its journey, touching minds across the continent—feeling their suffering, their joy, their confusion in this rapidly changing world. He sensed parents comforting children frightened by stories of his power. Lovers quarreling over whether to join his followers. Shinobi questioning their village loyalties in light of his new vision.

And everywhere, fear. Not just of him, but of change itself. Of uncertainty. Of losing identity and purpose in a world being rapidly reshaped by forces beyond comprehension.

"I'm trying to help them," he insisted, golden light flaring around his meditation form. "To free them from systems that have caused suffering for generations."

"**By deciding what's best for them?**" Kurama challenged. "**That's what Madara thought too.**"

Anger flashed through Naruto—a surprisingly human emotion amidst his divine detachment. "I'm nothing like Madara!"

"**No?**" The fox's voice grew softer, more contemplative. "**He too believed humanity needed guidance. Direction. Control for their own good.**"

"I'm not controlling anyone," Naruto protested. "I'm offering healing. Choice. Freedom from artificial constraints."

"**Are you?**" Kurama's tails slowed their swishing, nine tips pointing accusingly. "**Or are you simply replacing old constraints with new ones—ones that you design instead of human leaders?**"

The question struck deeper than Naruto wanted to admit. His consciousness pulled back slightly, focusing on the immediate vicinity of his temple. Below, at the base of the valley, hundreds of pilgrims had gathered—seeking healing, guidance, blessing. Many prostrated themselves on the ground, foreheads pressed to the earth in worship.

The sight disturbed him more than he could articulate.

"This isn't what I wanted," he whispered.

"**What did you expect?**" Kurama asked, genuine curiosity in the ancient beast's voice. "**You float above them trailing golden light. You reshape reality with a thought. You speak of transcending human limitations while literally living in a temple in the sky.**"

Put that way, the situation seemed almost absurdly predictable.

Naruto's expanded awareness touched on his former friends again—Sasuke's bitter resignation, Sakura's clinical concern, Hinata's unwavering faith that somehow, somewhere, the boy she loved still existed within the divine being he had become.

Her faith moved something in him—a stirring of the human heart that still beat beneath layers of cosmic awareness.

"How do I reach them?" he asked, more vulnerable than he had allowed himself to be in weeks. "How do I make them understand what I can see? The patterns, the possibilities, the path to genuine peace?"

"**Maybe you don't,**" Kurama suggested. "**Maybe understanding isn't prerequisite to cooperation.**"

The thought crystallized something in Naruto's expanding consciousness—a realization that had been forming at the edges of his awareness. His eyes snapped open, the meditation chamber responding to his epiphany with pulses of golden light.

"Of course," he breathed, rising to his feet as the Truth-Seeking Orbs spun faster around him. "I've been approaching this all wrong."

Naruto paced the meditation platform, cosmic energy swirling in his wake. His expression shifted from contemplation to resolve, divine certainty flooding back with terrifying completeness.

"I've been assuming their understanding is necessary for transformation," he continued, speaking aloud though no one but Kurama could hear. "That's why I've explained, demonstrated, tried to persuade."

"**And now?**" Kurama prompted, sensing the shift in Naruto's thoughts.

"Now I see the fundamental obstacle." Naruto's voice took on that harmonic resonance again, the sound of divinity speaking through human vocal cords. "Human free will itself is the barrier to perfect peace."

Deep in their shared consciousness, Kurama's ears flattened against his massive skull. "**Kit...**"

"Not free will entirely," Naruto clarified, cosmic eyes blazing with newfound purpose. "But the illusion that choices made in ignorance are somehow sacred and inviolable."

He gestured, and a window opened in reality, showing a village where citizens fought over resources that could easily be shared. Another gesture revealed a warlord ordering an attack based on generations-old grievances. A third showed children being trained to hate those from other nations.

"These aren't free choices," Naruto insisted, voice rising with conviction. "They're programming. Conditioning. Manipulation by systems designed to perpetuate conflict."

"**So what do you propose?**" Kurama asked, wariness evident in the fox's rumbling tone.

Naruto stared out over the valley, those cosmic eyes seeing far beyond the physical landscape to the webs of cause and effect that shaped human destiny. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute certainty.

"Healing the mind is no different from healing the body," he said. "If a cancer grows, you remove it. If bones break, you reset them." His expression hardened with divine resolve. "If minds are poisoned by hatred, by artificial divisions, by false perceptions—they too can be healed."

"**You're talking about controlling people's thoughts,**" Kurama growled, alarm vibrating through their shared consciousness. "**Rewriting their minds without consent.**"

"I'm talking about healing damage," Naruto corrected, but there was something cold and alien in his voice now—something that made even the ancient fox spirit recoil. "Just as I've healed broken bodies, restored blighted lands, purified poisoned waters."

He turned from the window, white robes swirling around him as divine certainty hardened into resolve.

"I'll start small," he decided. "Only the most damaged minds—those consumed by hatred, by the desire to harm others. Those who would use violence to force their will on the innocent."

"**And who decides what constitutes 'damage'?**" Kurama challenged. "**Who determines which thoughts are poison and which are simply disagreement?**"

"I do," Naruto replied simply. "I who can see the full pattern. I who can trace each thought to its consequences across generations."

The finality in his voice sent chills through even Kurama's ancient being. This was no longer Naruto wavering between humanity and divinity. This was a god who had made his decision.

"Tomorrow," Naruto declared, cosmic eyes fixed on some distant point beyond normal perception, "I begin the true healing of this world. Not just of bodies and lands, but of minds and hearts."

Outside the floating temple, thunder rolled across suddenly darkening skies—nature itself responding to the shift in divine intent. Below, the pilgrims looked up in wonder and terror, sensing that something momentous approached.

They were right to be afraid.

# What if Naruto became the next Sage of Six Paths—and declared himself a god?

## Chapter 6: Transformation

Blood-slick cobblestones glistened under pale moonlight as the rogue ninja sprinted through narrow alleyways, breath coming in ragged gasps. Behind him, the screams had faded—his handiwork in the tavern complete. Six dead for speaking against the new order. Six sacrifices to prove his devotion to the Golden Sage.

The man skidded around a corner, chakra-enhanced feet nearly slipping on the wet stones. His hands still trembled with adrenaline, the kunai clutched in white-knuckled fingers dripping crimson testimony onto his path.

"The non-believers will fall," he whispered through cracked lips, eyes wild with zealotry. "The Golden Sage demands purity of—"

Golden light erupted before him, so sudden and blinding that he stumbled backward, arms flung up in instinctive protection. The alley transformed into noon-bright day, shadows banished by the radiance that coalesced into Naruto's hovering form.

"No," Naruto said, the single word resonating with harmonic undertones that vibrated through bone and blood. "I demanded no such thing."

The rogue ninja fell to his knees, face splitting into rapturous joy. "My lord! You've come! I've done as the prophecies foretold—cleansed the world of those who—"

"Silence."

The word struck like physical force, stealing breath from the man's lungs. Naruto descended until his bare feet hovered inches above the blood-stained cobblestones. His cosmic eyes blazed with cold fire as he studied the trembling zealot.

"You've murdered in my name," Naruto continued, voice terrifyingly calm. "Twisted my message of healing into justification for slaughter."

"But my lord—" the man began, confusion twisting his features. "They spoke against your divine will! They—"

"My divine will?" Naruto cut him off, floating closer. "You presume to know my intentions? To interpret my desires?"

The man's certainty wavered, doubt creeping into his fevered gaze. "The disciples said—"

"My disciples speak of peace," Naruto interrupted, those rippled eyes narrowing. "Of healing. Never of bloodshed."

He reached forward, palm outstretched toward the kneeling man's forehead. "Let me show you what I truly desire."

The rogue ninja's eyes widened with religious ecstasy. "Yes! Show me your divine—"

His words died as Naruto's fingers made contact with skin. The man's pupils dilated instantly, his mouth freezing mid-sentence. Golden light pulsed between them, flowing from Naruto's hand into the zealot's skull like liquid sunlight forced into a cracked vessel.

Inside the man's mind, Naruto moved with surgical precision. He could see the neural pathways like glowing rivers—the tangled knots of childhood trauma, the deeply grooved channels of hate, the poisoned wells of violent ideology. With gentle but inexorable force, he began to reshape. Smoothing. Redirecting. Healing damaged connections and severing toxic ones.

The man's eyes leaked golden tears that evaporated before they touched his cheeks. His body shuddered under the psychic reconstruction occurring within his skull.

"There," Naruto murmured, withdrawing his hand. "The damage is repaired."

The rogue ninja blinked slowly, expression clearing like fog burning away under morning sun. Horror dawned as memories of his actions remained, but the driving compulsion—the righteous fury—had vanished, replaced by clarity that felt simultaneously foreign and familiar.

"What have I done?" he whispered, staring at his blood-stained hands.

"What you will never do again," Naruto replied, already beginning to dissolve into particles of light. "Go to the authorities. Confess your crimes. Find atonement through service to those you've harmed."

The man nodded, compelled not by external force but by newly reconstructed internal values. As Naruto vanished completely, the rogue ninja rose on unsteady legs and turned toward the village center, his path as clear and inevitable as sunrise.

---

Miles away, in a hidden mountain temple accessible only to those with the highest security clearance, the Five Kage plus Sasuke huddled around flickering hologram displays. The technology—borrowed from advanced research divisions across the nations—showed recorded incidents from across the continent.

"That's the fourteenth this week," Shikamaru announced, tapping a timeline that highlighted synchronized events. "Fourteen violent extremists who suddenly turned themselves in, confessed everything, and appear completely rehabilitated."

"All displaying the same symptoms," Sakura added, medical charts hovering at her fingertips. "Altered neural activity. Restructured memory pathways. And this—" she magnified brain scans showing peculiar golden traces in the cerebral cortex, "—residual chakra with Naruto's unmistakable signature."

Tsunade slammed her fist on the table, sake cup jumping. "He's doing exactly what we feared. Rewriting minds."

"Not randomly," Gaara observed, sand swirling thoughtfully between his fingers. "Only violent offenders. Only those who've harmed others."

"That we know of," the Raikage growled, lightning crackling along massive forearms. "Who's to say he's not subtly altering others? Political opponents? Those who simply disagree with his 'vision'?"

Sasuke's face remained impassive, but his mismatched eyes burned with intensity as they tracked the data points. "He's testing boundaries. Starting with cases no one would object to—murderers, terrorists, the obviously deranged."

"A logical first step," Shikamaru agreed, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Establish the precedent with universally reviled targets before expanding to more... ambiguous cases."

The Tsuchikage harrumphed, floating slightly off his chair to ease his ancient back. "How long before 'violent criminals' becomes 'political dissidents'? Before 'healing' becomes 'silencing'?"

Silence fell across the war room as the implications settled like ash after an explosion.

"We need to confront him," Tsunade declared, but the words lacked conviction. Their previous confrontation had demonstrated how utterly outmatched they were.

"Not 'we,'" Sasuke corrected, rising from his seat with fluid grace. "Me. Alone."

Protests erupted immediately:

"Absolutely not—"

"Suicide mission—"

"We need coordinated—"

Sasuke silenced them with a sharp gesture, Rinnegan flashing. "He won't kill me. And I've been working on something that might... reach him."

"What exactly?" the Mizukage asked, mist curling from her lips with each word.

Sasuke's expression remained closed. "Better you don't know. Plausible deniability."

"This isn't a democracy," the Raikage barked. "You don't get to make unilateral decisions in a five-nation crisis!"

A bitter smile twisted Sasuke's lips. "Isn't that exactly what Naruto's doing? Making unilateral decisions for all humanity?" He turned toward the exit, cloak snapping behind him. "Sometimes it takes a monster to stop a god."

"Sasuke!" Sakura called after him, fear threading through her voice. "You can't seriously think you can—"

"I don't plan to defeat him," Sasuke interrupted, pausing at the threshold. "Just remind him of what he once was. What he's sacrificing in his quest for 'perfect peace.'"

With that, he was gone, leaving the war council in frustrated silence.

Shikamaru sighed, collapsing back into his chair. "Troublesome. He's going to get himself killed."

"No," Gaara countered softly. "That's the one thing Naruto won't do. The question is—what will he do instead?"

---

Twilight painted the Valley of the End in watercolor hues—purples and blues merging with gold as the setting sun illuminated Naruto's floating temple. The massive structure had evolved over weeks, growing like a living organism. Crystal spires reached higher, golden roots extended further, interior spaces shifted and reconfigured according to some incomprehensible divine architecture.

Inside the central meditation chamber, Naruto hovered cross-legged above a pool of liquid light. His appearance had subtly changed again—his skin now possessing an inner luminance, his white robes seeming to merge with his flesh at certain angles, the boundaries between body and clothing becoming increasingly theoretical.

Through his expanded consciousness, he monitored thousands of situations simultaneously across the continent: natural disasters forming and being gently redirected; conflicts brewing and being subtly defused; the minds he had "healed" functioning with newfound clarity.

"Fourteen violent extremists rehabilitated," he murmured to the empty chamber. "Fourteen lives redirected from destruction to restoration."

"**Fourteen minds violated,**" came Kurama's rumbling correction from their shared consciousness. "**Fourteen wills overwritten without consent.**"

Naruto's cosmic eyes opened, ripple patterns pulsing with mild irritation. "They were damaged, Kurama. Driven by trauma, manipulation, and toxic ideologies to harm others."

"**And who appointed you the arbiter of healthy versus damaged thoughts?**" the fox challenged.

"No one appointed me," Naruto replied, serenity flowing back into his expression. "I simply possess the capacity to see what others cannot—the full pattern of cause and effect, the complete web of—"

His head snapped toward the east, expanded awareness detecting a familiar chakra signature approaching at tremendous speed.

"Sasuke," he whispered, both anticipation and regret coloring the name.

The meditation pool rippled beneath him as Naruto descended, bare feet touching the liquid surface without breaking tension. With a gesture, he opened a portal in the chamber wall, creating a balcony overlooking the valley where Madara and Hashirama's massive statues stood sentinel.

He stepped through, white robes billowing in the high-altitude winds, and waited.

He didn't wait long.

Purple lightning split the darkening sky as Sasuke arrived, riding the technique he'd developed to match Naruto's speed. The Uchiha landed on a stone spire opposite Naruto's balcony, cloak whipping around his lean frame, mismatched eyes blazing with purpose.

"I wondered when you'd come," Naruto called, voice carrying effortlessly across the gap.

"You knew why the moment you sensed me," Sasuke replied, hand resting on his sword hilt.

Naruto inclined his head in acknowledgment. "The 'mind healing.' You've been tracking the cases."

"Healing?" Sasuke spat the word like poison. "Is that what you're calling it now? Not mind control? Not violation of the most fundamental human right—the right to one's own thoughts?"

Golden light flared around Naruto's form—not defensive, but reactive to his emotions. "I've harmed no one. I've freed them from compulsions that were destroying their lives and threatening others."

"Today it's murderers. Tomorrow? People who simply disagree with your vision? Those who prefer the old ways? Where does it end, Naruto?"

Something flashed across Naruto's divine features—a moment of uncertainty, quickly suppressed. "Only the truly damaged require intervention. Only those whose minds harbor malignancies that threaten the greater whole."

Sasuke's laugh was harsh, brittle. "And who decides what constitutes 'damage'? You? The self-proclaimed god floating in his temple above humanity?"

"I see the full pattern—"

"Stop saying that!" Sasuke's patience snapped, Sharingan spinning with emotion. "Your 'pattern' is just another perspective—broader than most, but still subjective. Still fallible."

Naruto's expression hardened, cosmic eyes narrowing. "What would you have me do, Sasuke? Stand aside while fanatics murder in my name? While damaged minds perpetuate cycles of violence I have the power to break?"

"I would have you respect the fundamental autonomy of every person," Sasuke shot back. "Even the ones making terrible choices. Especially them."

"Even at the cost of innocent lives? Even knowing I could prevent their suffering?"

"Yes." The word fell between them like a gauntlet. "Because without that autonomy—without the right to choose, even wrongly—we're not human. We're just puppets dancing to divine strings."

Naruto went very still, the air around him shimmering with suppressed power. When he spoke, his voice carried that harmonic undertone that made reality itself vibrate in sympathy.

"And if I disagree? If I continue healing those whose minds drive them to harm others?"

Sasuke's hand tightened on his sword hilt. "Then I stop you."

The declaration hung in the twilight air between them—impossible, absurd given the power differential they both recognized, yet undeniably sincere.

Naruto sighed, genuine sadness crossing his features. "You can't win this fight, Sasuke."

"Probably not," the Uchiha agreed, drawing his blade in one fluid motion. "But I've never needed victory to make my point."

Lightning exploded from the sword as Sasuke launched himself across the chasm, moving faster than ordinary eyes could track. Purple electricity forked through the darkening sky, illuminating his determined features in strobe-like flashes.

Naruto didn't move. Didn't raise a hand in defense. Simply watched with infinite patience as his oldest friend hurtled toward him, sword aimed at his heart.

The blade passed through him like smoke, Sasuke's momentum carrying him straight through Naruto's seemingly solid form to land on the crystal balcony behind.

"Physical attacks can't touch me anymore," Naruto said quietly, turning to face his friend. "I've evolved beyond—"

He stopped mid-sentence, cosmic eyes widening slightly as he noticed what Sasuke had left behind during his pass-through—a seal tag, pulsing with elaborate fuinjutsu, now embedded in Naruto's semi-physical form.

The tag detonated in a blinding flash of sealing chakra.

For the first time in weeks, pain registered on Naruto's features. Golden light erupted from his form as the seal tried to lock onto him, to contain the vast power within a metaphysical prison. His semi-corporeal body flickered between solid and translucent, the battle between divine energy and sealing technique creating ripples of distortion in the surrounding air.

"Interesting," Naruto commented, voice strained but still eerily calm. "A seal designed to target consciousness rather than chakra. Very... creative."

With a casual gesture that nevertheless cost visible effort, he shattered the seal's effects, fragments of technique dissipating like broken glass into the twilight air.

Sasuke hadn't waited for the outcome. He was already moving through a complex series of hand signs, Rinnegan blazing with purpose.

"Binding Art: Soul Tether Technique!"

Purplish-black chains erupted from the Uchiha's chest, whipping through the air faster than thought to wrap around Naruto's glowing form. Unlike physical restraints, these sought to bind essence to essence—Sasuke's human consciousness attempting to anchor Naruto's increasingly divine one.

Naruto winced, genuine discomfort registering as the chains tightened. "This... might actually have worked... a few days ago," he managed, golden light pulsing erratically. "But I've moved... beyond such limitations."

With a surge of will rather than physical strength, he shattered the soul tethers, sending metaphysical backlash rippling through both of them. Sasuke staggered, blood trickling from one nostril. Naruto merely straightened, cosmic eyes refocusing with mild surprise.

"You've been developing techniques specifically to fight me," he observed, something like the old Naruto peeking through in his tone—almost impressed despite himself.

Sasuke wiped blood from his face with the back of one hand. "Since the day you started floating and speaking in plural harmonics."

"They won't work, Sasuke."

"I just need one to work," the Uchiha countered, already weaving new seals. "Just long enough."

The air between them distorted as Sasuke activated a space-time technique, attempting to create a pocket dimension to temporarily contain Naruto's consciousness. Reality itself bent and warped, colors inverting, sounds stretching into unrecognizable tones.

This time, irritation flashed across Naruto's divine features. "Enough games," he said, voice deadly quiet.

With a gesture that seemed almost negligent, he unraveled Sasuke's technique from the inside out, then extended his will further. The crystal balcony beneath them dissolved and reformed into a perfect arena—a circular platform hovering free from the main temple, suspended over the endless drop to the valley below.

"You want to fight me?" Naruto asked, white robes swirling around him as he rose slightly off the platform. "Then let's fight. No more tricks. No more seals. Just you and me—as we've always been."

Something like grim satisfaction flickered in Sasuke's mismatched eyes. "Now we're talking," he muttered, dropping into a combat stance.

What followed was unlike any battle the shinobi world had witnessed. Sasuke attacked with everything he possessed—Susanoo manifesting in stages around him, Amaterasu's black flames erupting from his gaze, lightning and fire techniques chaining together in devastating combinations.

Naruto didn't counter. Didn't dodge. Didn't attack in return.

He simply altered reality around them.

When Amaterasu's flames rushed toward him, Naruto transformed fire itself, black flames transmuting into harmless butterflies that scattered on the wind. When Susanoo's massive fist crashed down, the very concepts of force and impact bent around Naruto's form, energy dissipating into alternate dimensions before it could touch him.

Lightning became water. Earth became air. Space itself folded and unfolded according to divine will.

Through it all, Naruto's expression remained serene, almost sad, as he demonstrated the gulf that had opened between them—between human and god.

Sasuke fought with increasing desperation, pushing techniques beyond their limits, combining elements in ways never before attempted. Sweat soaked his clothing, blood leaked from his overused eyes, chakra reserves depleted toward dangerous lows.

Still, he pressed forward, driven by something beyond logic or self-preservation.

"Why do you continue?" Naruto finally asked, genuine curiosity in his voice as he casually redirected a massive fire dragon into a spiral of cherry blossoms. "You must see it's futile."

Sasuke grinned through blood-stained teeth, the expression fierce and somehow triumphant despite his obvious defeat. "Because someone has to," he panted, gathering chakra for yet another attack. "Someone has to stand for human choice—human mess—human freedom."

"Even when that freedom leads to suffering?" Naruto challenged, transforming Sasuke's lightning strike into harmless light.

"Especially then," Sasuke countered, dropping to one knee as exhaustion finally overtook determination. "Because meaning comes from choice. Because dignity requires the possibility of failure."

Something resonated within Naruto at these words—some deeply buried human part of him responding to the truth they contained. For a flickering instant, doubt clouded those cosmic eyes.

Sasuke saw the opening and took it, not with a physical attack but with words that cut deeper than any blade.

"From my divine vantage point, individual human autonomy seems like an illusion," he quoted, Sharingan fixing the exact phrase in perfect recall. "I can see all possible decisions and outcomes, making free will appear predetermined."

Naruto went very still, recognition flashing across his features.

"That's what you told me last time," Sasuke pressed, rising unsteadily to his feet. "That free will is an illusion. That human choices are predetermined."

"They are," Naruto insisted, but something uncertain had crept into his harmonic voice. "From my perspective, I can see—"

"Your perspective isn't the only valid one!" Sasuke shouted, frustration breaking through his calculated calm. "That's the whole point! Multiple perspectives—multiple choices—multiple paths—that's what makes us human!"

The platform beneath them trembled as Naruto's concentration wavered, cosmic eyes flickering between absolute certainty and momentary doubt.

"If you can see all possible outcomes," Sasuke continued, pressing his advantage, "then you know there's more than one valid path. More than one possible future worth creating."

"Most lead to suffering," Naruto countered.

"And who are you to decide which suffering is necessary and which isn't? Which struggles forge stronger humans and which merely break them? Can you really see all the branching consequences thousands of years from now?"

For the first time, Naruto's divine serenity cracked completely. Uncertainty—raw and human—flashed across his features. "I... I can see further than any human has before. I can perceive patterns beyond normal comprehension."

"But not everything," Sasuke insisted, taking a step closer despite his exhaustion. "Not the full tapestry of all possible futures across infinite time."

"No," Naruto admitted reluctantly. "Not everything."

"Then you're making choices based on incomplete information—just like the rest of us. Your vision is broader, deeper, longer—but still limited. Still subjective."

The platform shuddered again as Naruto's divine certainty wavered. For a heartbeat, his cosmic eyes flickered back to human blue—the boy Sasuke had grown up with peering through the god he had become.

Then the moment passed. Divine serenity washed back over Naruto's features, cosmic awareness reasserting itself with terrible finality.

"You've fought well, Sasuke," he said, voice once again layered with harmonic resonance. "Your arguments have... merit. They deserve consideration."

Hope flared in Sasuke's expression. "Then you'll stop altering minds? Return to simply healing bodies and lands while letting humans make their own choices?"

"No."

The single word fell between them with the weight of divine certainty.

"I'll proceed more cautiously," Naruto clarified. "More selectively. But I cannot—will not—stand aside when I possess the power to end suffering."

Sasuke's shoulder's slumped, defeat finally registering on his proud features. "Then there's nothing left to say."

"There is one thing," Naruto countered, floating closer. "I could alter your mind as easily as breathing. Could reshape your thoughts until you saw the universe as I do—until you understood the necessity of my path."

Fear flashed across Sasuke's face—naked, human fear of something worse than death: the violation of his most fundamental self.

"But I won't," Naruto continued, something gentle entering his voice. "Out of respect for what we were to each other. Out of acknowledgment that your perspective, limited though it is, still holds value."

Relief warred with insult in Sasuke's expression. "How magnanimous," he spat, the word dripping sarcasm.

"It's more than that," Naruto insisted, and for a moment—just a moment—the old warmth entered his voice. "You're my friend, Sasuke. My brother in all but blood. That hasn't changed, even if everything else has."

Something broke in Sasuke then—not his pride or his will, but the last hope that the Naruto he knew could be recovered.

"You speak of friendship while floating above me trailing divine light," he said quietly. "While reshaping reality with a thought. While explaining why you have the right to rewrite minds." Bitter understanding dawned in his mismatched eyes. "You're gone, aren't you? The real Naruto. Gone beyond reaching."

Pain—genuine, human pain—flashed across Naruto's cosmic features. "I'm still here, Sasuke. I've just... expanded. Grown into something that can do more good than that orphaned boy ever dreamed possible."

"That orphaned boy knew something you've forgotten," Sasuke countered, turning away. "That no one has the right to decide another person's path. Not even a god."

He walked to the edge of the floating platform, gathering the last of his chakra for the leap back to earth. Before he jumped, he glanced over his shoulder one final time.

"Goodbye, Naruto," he said simply. "I won't try to stop you again. But I won't help you either."

With that, he was gone, a dark shadow falling through twilight toward the valley floor.

Naruto watched him go, divine features unreadable, cosmic eyes tracking his friend's descent. When Sasuke finally disappeared into the gathering darkness, something shifted in Naruto's expression—resolution hardening into something colder, more absolute.

"I've transcended what we once were, Sasuke," he whispered to the empty air. "Perhaps one day you'll understand that this was always my destiny."

Golden light erupted around his hovering form, brighter than before, charged with newfound purpose. His body began to change—flesh becoming more translucent, boundaries between physical and metaphysical blurring further. The white robes dissolved into his increasingly ethereal form until he appeared made of condensed light given humanoid shape.

The Truth-Seeking Orbs expanded, multiplied, began orbiting his transformed body in complex geometric patterns. Reality bent around him as he ascended higher above the temple, cosmic awareness expanding exponentially with each passing moment.

Below, across the continent, thousands sensed the change—a pressure in the air, a humming in the chakra networks that connected all living things. Some fell to their knees in worship. Others huddled in fear. A few, like Sasuke, simply looked skyward with grim understanding.

The transition had begun. Whatever Naruto would ultimately become, he had moved beyond the last tethers of his humanity.

The transformation of a hero into a god was nearly complete.