A sigh escaped his lips, drifting into the endless dark.
It echoed — not through space, not through air, but through the bones of existence itself, stirring ripples in the void that had lain still since the first silence.
"How long… have I been here?"
His voice was soft. Not weak — never weak — but heavy. Weighted by memories that even he could barely grasp anymore.
A life before this.
A death before this.
And now… this throne beneath him.
This nothingness wrapped around him like an old, forgotten cloak.
He closed his eyes — or perhaps, he simply remembered the act of closing them — and leaned back against the Black Throne.
His body felt real. Too real.
A sharp chime rang inside his mind.
[System Initialization: 1% Complete…]
[Loading… Loading…]
He waited.
The system, whatever it was, struggled.
It clung to the newborn threads of reality like a drowning man to a broken ship.
He chuckled — a hollow, almost bitter sound.
Even now, after transcending death, rebirth was not instant.
Even for him.
Another chime.
[Core Data Unlocked: Race — Primordial Otsutsuki.]
The words burned themselves into his being.
He opened his eyes — truly opened them — and for a moment, the Void recoiled.
Twin suns, ancient and merciless, stared into the nothingness.
"Primordial Otsutsuki," he murmured.
It sounded right.
It tasted like truth.
Not a descendant.
Not a thief of chakra fruits.
Not a parasite scrambling across dying worlds.
No.
He was the Origin.
The one from which the bloodline would one day spring.
The future so-called "gods" of countless worlds… they would all be but pale imitations of what he was, here, now.
And yet…
He was still alone.
He shifted slightly on the Black Throne, its surface whispering secrets he had no words for.
All around him, the Void stretched infinite and empty.
No stars.
No planets.
No others.
Not yet.
Just him.
Just the system, crawling toward life at a glacial pace.
And the knowledge — cold and clear — that once, long ago, he had lived another life.
Different.
Smaller.
Mortal.
He could not remember the details.
Not yet.
But he knew one thing for certain.
This time, he would not be forgotten.
This time, he would not kneel.
This time, the multiverse itself would remember the name that had not yet been spoken.
He smiled — slow and terrible.
[System Initialization: 1% Complete…]
[Awaiting stabilization of Host Authority.]
[World Seed: Pending Activation.]
[Caution: Host's mere existence destabilizes surrounding void.]
He stretched his fingers once — delicate, sharp, perfect.
Even that small movement caused the blackness to shudder.
The Throne groaned under him, not in protest — but in reverence.
"Begin," he said simply.
And though there was no one yet to hear it,
though no worlds yet spun to carry the echo,
the Void obeyed.