Konoha, in the mountain forest behind the stone faces of the Hokage.
The once-lush woods had been leveled by ninjutsu across a broad swath of hillside, making way for a complex of buildings that seemed to fuse nature with the future.
The Konoha Research Institute rose out of the green like a shard of modern art—wide façades of glass and metal wrapped in a thin, translucent coating that drank in sunlight and diffused it softly. From a distance, it looked less like a man-made structure and more like a piece of sky that had sunk into the trees.
Mist clung to the cliffs and terraces, a gauzy veil draped over the buildings. Under the pale morning light, the glass walls reflected a faint blue sheen, like gemstones catching the dawn.
A few birds sliced through the sky above, their long calls echoing through the quiet air.
One of Soren's shadow clones had been assigned to inspect research progress here. He walked side by side with Uchiha Sōju, a clan member who'd advanced to Kage-level via Flame Release, and the pair stepped through the Institute's main doors.
The Konoha Research Institute was divided into two great zones: surface and underground, each with distinct roles.
The surface complex was devoted to education and training.
Graduates of the basic ninja academy—those who lacked the talent or desire for combat roles but still wished to study—came here to become civilian shinobi, the so-called life-nin. Tuition was kept low; any genin willing to work could pay their way under the Institute's welfare policies.
In practice, the surface campus functioned like a three-year university.
The system was credit-based; twice a year the civilian shinobi faced rigorous examinations—both written and practical. Out of six major exam sessions, failing three meant expulsion… unless the student chose to pay an eye-watering tuition even a jōnin would wince at, in order to repeat courses and earn their degree.
The talented, of course, could graduate early if recommended by a professor or mentor and if they passed the necessary advanced assessments.
Those standouts earned something far more valuable than a diploma—
the right to descend into the underground layers.
Beneath the mountain, carved into the very heart of the Hokage's cliff, lay the true core of the Institute: a sprawling, multi-level research complex housing the finest minds of Konoha—and now, of the whole shinobi world.
This subterranean structure was wrapped in a massive barrier—co-developed by Soren and Uzumaki Minako—loaded with properties derived from [Amenotajikarawo-no-Mikoto], designed to disrupt space-time interference.
Short of the specific backdoor seals Soren himself had woven into the place, even a space-time ninjutsu user would find it hard to cheat their way through. Inside the Institute, most people had to rely on good old-fashioned walking.
The underground levels mirrored the mountain's natural strata. The rock had been cut and sculpted with surgical precision, hollowed out into a multi-tiered hive of labs and secure sectors—almost all of it hidden from the outside world.
"Supreme Leader, this way please."
After submitting both chakra and fingerprint to a dual-layer lock, Soren and Sōju stepped into an elevator that hummed softly as it descended toward B1—
the floor devoted to Tailed Beast research.
The doors slid open with a chime.
Energetic, sharp-eyed, dressed in the Uchiha's black-formal field coat, Sōju strode out first. Soren followed, looking around as they walked down a metal-lined corridor.
The corridor traced the lines of the mountain's bedrock. Chakra lighting panels in the ceiling cast a steady, soft glow. The floor was spotless, polished by maintenance puppets. Clear signage hung at regular points.
Researchers in white coats came and went, some flanked by apprentices.
Their eyes flicked past Sōju—whom most of them still considered, at his core, a "punch-first-think-later" combat ninja—and then landed on Soren.
To them, this was the man who had championed chakra technology, who had dragged the shinobi world into its current golden age of comfort and expansion; the man who had, quite literally, changed the lives of millions.
Their gazes warmed with awe. Backs straightened, and more than a few bowed respectfully as he passed.
Soren, naturally, found this very pleasing.
Sōju, for his part, could not have cared less what those "stiff-brained lab rats" thought of him. As long as they produced results he could present at high-level Konoha meetings with his head held high, he was satisfied.
Soon, they reached a door marked:
[Four-Tails Laboratory]
The lab beyond was enormous, divided into two main zones.
The front half was cluttered with precision instruments and busy researchers. The rear half was separated by a thick glass wall.
Soren's gaze swept the space. Above, bundled along the ceiling, ran thick chakra power conduits—each cable as wide as a grown man's fist.
One end of those cables pierced the ceiling and vanished upward into rock, feeding chakra power across all of Konoha.
The other end descended through the ceiling and into the base of a massive glass containment vessel on the far side of the viewing window.
"Carry on; no need to crowd around just because I'm here," Soren said, waving off researchers who'd started to gather. "The director can walk me through things."
He stepped up to the glass.
In the sealed chamber below, a hundred-meter-wide space supported a colossal glass vat filled with a faintly glowing fluid.
Suspended in it, asleep, was a titanic red ape-like beast, forty to fifty meters tall, four tails coiled behind it.
The Four-Tails.
At the vat's northeast corner, a separate training pen held two Uchiha shinobi sparring—three-tomoe Sharingan spinning as they exchanged ninjutsu. A cluster of researchers looked on, scribbling down readings.
"Supreme Leader," Sōju said, stepping beside him, "we've already moved beyond shallow energy transfer with the Four-Tails."
"Using its chakra signature as a template, we've successfully developed a mass-producible Lava Release bloodline limit."
As he spoke, the Uchiha on the left raised his hands and unleashed a torrent of Flame Release—fire chakra fused with Yin chakra.
The one on the right spat out a roiling wave of Lava Release, blending fire and earth chakra.
Flame and lava collided midair.
White-hot bone-scorching fire clashed with seething, half-molten rock, spraying the air with burning stone fragments that clattered against the reinforced chakra barrier.
"How's the power?" Soren asked.
"Comparable to Flame Release, and above basic elemental ninjutsu."
Sōju took a small, bright-red pill-like bead from his coat and handed it to him.
"This, Supreme Leader, is a [Lava Release · Bloodline Seed] refined from the Four-Tails' chakra."
"Any jōnin who already understands both fire and earth nature transformation can ingest one. The seed will guide their chakra, allowing them to awaken Lava Release as a full bloodline limit."
His tone grew complicated as he finished.
Someone from a clan that had always placed bloodline limits above all else… was now overseeing their mass production. It shook him.
If Lava Release could be turned into a consumable… then what about the Sharingan?
Would the Uchiha's pride one day be distilled into a pill?
The thought made Sōju's skin crawl.
"What are you afraid of, Director Sōju?"
Soren opened his Eternal Mangekyō, the intricate patterns flaring with quiet menace. The sight steadied Sōju more than any words could have.
He glanced around—at the other researchers in the lab—and hesitated.
Soren understood at once.
"Don't borrow trouble from tomorrow," he said calmly. "The shinobi world is changing. We are changing with it—becoming stronger."
He turned the sealed bead between his fingers.
Then, without hesitation, he popped it into his mouth and swallowed.
"Today Lava Release spreads."
"Tomorrow Ice Release might spread."
"Soon bloodlines that once defined entire clans will simply be… advanced attributes. Powerful, yes—but not sacred, not exclusive."
"They'll stop being the foundation of a few clans—and become the foundation of the entire shinobi world."
As the Bloodline Seed melted in his stomach, a thin stream of Lava chakra rose through his chakra network. Soren could feel his power roots burrowing deeper into the soil of his own being.
His voice took on a subtle heat.
"Even if one day our clan's Sharingan shows up in other bloodlines, I won't be shocked."
"I won't be afraid."
Researchers all around had slowed or outright stopped their work, ears tuned to his words. The only other sound came from humming machines.
Soren's Eternal Mangekyō gleamed like a pair of bottomless wells.
"What I am afraid of," he continued, "is this—"
"That, given all the resources I've piled up, we stop thinking about how to push further."
"That we start suppressing talent instead of lifting it. That we confuse clinging to advantage with true strength."
The Lava chakra in his system fully integrated, transformed by his Arcane Force rather than merely appended. His core power climbed another step.
He smiled faintly and pointed that gaze like a blade straight at Sōju.
"Director Sōju, you already hold Flame Release, Lava Release, and the Sharingan."
"What exactly are you afraid of?"
"That juniors will replace you?"
"That another clan will replace the Uchiha?"
"That someone will replace me?"
"We're the ones paving the way. Don't be the fool who stops to look backward."
His words rang through the laboratory like temple bells at dawn—quiet, but shaking something deep in the chest.
Silence settled.
Then Sōju spoke, voice low but firm.
"There is no one who can surpass you, Supreme Leader."
He bowed his head, then raised it again, three-tomoe spinning fiercely.
"You are the strongest shinobi of the past, the present… and the future."
"I understand your will."
"From today on, I'll devote everything to fusing Flame and Lava—to pushing our power further—so that I, and the Uchiha, grow strong enough to be worthy of it."
"Good."
Soren clapped his shoulder.
"Flame Release is ours—born of the Uchiha, controlled by the Uchiha. We can choose who gets it and who doesn't."
"That's our advantage."
His expression softened with satisfaction.
"And yes, we'll be careful with the seeds."
His tone shifted, more practical now.
"Power given too easily isn't cherished. Let them earn it—through merit."
"We'll mint Lava Seeds as rewards for service. Too expensive, and no jōnin will ever see one. Too cheap, and every chūnin's dog will have Lava Release."
Sōju bowed again.
"Understood, Supreme Leader. I'll coordinate with the General Staff on a proper merit exchange standard."
"Good. Now—let's check on the Zero-Tails."
They left the Four-Tails lab and stepped next door into the [Zero-Tails Laboratory].
The layout was similar. The atmosphere… was not.
No wonder these things grow by feeding on people's darkness, Soren thought dryly. Five of them in one room and I can't even be bothered to think lewd thoughts.
He studied the main chamber through the viewing glass.
Five massive containment tanks—each about half the size of the Four-Tails vessel—held five hulking, mask-faced, serpentine abominations: Zero-Tails.
Each one was about the size of a double-decker bus, mask faces carved with numerals marking their order of creation. So far, they'd reached "V".
"Supreme Leader," Sōju began, but a researcher in charge of the Zero-Tails stepped forward first.
Glasses glinting in the cold light, he bowed and spoke crisply.
"At present, the chakra generated by the five Zero-Tails is enough to sustain our internal Konoha network and all existing inter-village gates."
"However, maintaining a stable continent-scale transfer network will require a separate continental array, supplied by at least four more Zero-Tails operating permanently at that level."
Unlike the Four-Tails, whose raw chakra fed Konoha's infrastructure through broad power lines, the Zero-Tails were wired directly into a network of space-transfer bases—each carved with complex teleportation formations.
Those bases then distributed chakra into specific transfer arrays around the world.
"Understood," Soren nodded. "Draft a full proposal and send it to Director Sōju. The Spatial Techniques Division will handle the array configurations."
That division had been founded only three years ago, and its heart was Uzumaki Ashina, the current heir to Konoha's space-time arts.
She couldn't support the full inter-dimensional gateways they used to reach the New World—that was Soren's job—but she'd become quite adept at standardised "Flying Thunder God-style" gates inside a single plane.
Translating that into Zero-Tail base formations was well within her reach. If she made a mistake, at worst someone materialised a few meters off-target. Nothing Soren couldn't fix.
"We'll expand the Zero-Tails as needed," Soren added. "Later, when all villages have dedicated gates and local relays, we'll put growth units near them."
"Less chakra loss, faster growth for the Zero-Tails."
The researcher nodded, face serious.
"I understand, Supreme Leader."
Soren's gaze drifted to the centre of the chamber, where a smaller containment tank sat in the middle of the five Zero-Tail vats, connected to each by transparent chakra conduits.
A twisted, eight-headed serpent-like mass lay inside—shrunken, shivering, its once-massive form reduced to a cluster of smaller snakes.
"And the Moryo I sent here?" he asked.
"Currently serving as a supplemental power source."
The researcher gestured toward the central tank.
"Moryo is a sentient magical entity—a manifestation of accumulated negative emotion."
"It also possesses a potent ability to corrupt human hearts."
He smiled faintly.
"But when confronted by five Zero-Tails steadily devouring its power, it can't stir up so much as a ripple."
Soren studied the diminished Moryo and smiled, satisfied.
"Good. Director Sōju—set up a Zero-Tail relay in Ghost Ninja Village."
"Send Moryo with it. If they're going to worship my Susanoo, the shrine should at least have proper amenities."
"As you command, Supreme Leader."
Sōju's tone was respectful, but inwardly his thoughts spun.
Rumours that the Ghost Ninja Village shrine maiden might be Soren's lover had been simmering through Konoha's gossip channels for some time.
Now… those rumours felt a lot less like jokes.
Best warn the clan, he thought. Last thing we need is some idiot "testing" their luck with the shrine maiden and getting erased.
With B1 inspected, Soren descended alone to an even deeper level: B2.
This was the true forbidden floor—the sector devoted to researching bloodline limits in earnest.
The entire B2 complex lay below even the Hokage cliff's bedrock, dug into a deeper foundation. It required far higher clearance to enter.
Movement between underground floors was strictly forbidden except by special order. All labor contracts included brutal non-disclosure clauses. Even Sōju only knew there was a "special department" below him.
Not what it did.
Recently, someone had tried to whisper about "human experimentation" at meetings.
Those whispers had died when Sōju slammed them flat. The notion that the Supreme Leader was down here sawing people open like some deranged madman was, in his view, an insult.
The layout of B2 roughly matched B1—large open spaces and massive labs.
But the first big chamber Soren entered was different from any on the upper floors.
It was like a vast underground warehouse, two hundred meters long and wide, filled with neat rows of nutrient pods.
In each pod… a human form floated in pale suspension fluid.
At the base of each pod was a label:
Senju, Uchiha, Kaguya, Hagoromo, Moon Hyūga, Earth Hyūga, Uzumaki…
The air smelled of antiseptic. Under cold lamp light, the pods gleamed with a clinical chill.
"Every time I come here, I feel a little… off."
Soren's footsteps rang hollow on the metal floor, echoing through the cavernous space.
Researchers moved between pods in white coats—most of them carried over from Madara's old secret lab at Cloud-Lightning Gorge. Every last one had had their will rewritten by Soren's Eternal Mangekyō and had a [Tongue Binding Seal] on them for good measure.
No leaks. Not from here.
Soren stepped into a side room marked:
[Stairway to Godhood]
The coppery stench of blood hit him like a wall.
He wrinkled his nose.
The room was lined with surgical tables and instruments. On the centre table lay a lifeless clone, skin pale, chest still, body half-open.
Beside it, a man in a white coat held a scalpel still dripping with blood.
Soren's gaze sharpened.
"Root," he said evenly. "How's the Ōtsutsuki bloodline research progressing?"
The codename "Root" was a little joke of Soren's—one that happened to fit this man's personality uncomfortably well. A talent like his was wasted on anything but the deepest foundations.
The clone body Soren was using in the New World had been this man's masterpiece.
"Supreme Leader."
Root pulled his eyes away from the pale-horned corpse on the table. His own skin was as bloodless as his subject's, but his eyes gleamed unnaturally bright.
At Soren's question, he slowly shook his head.
His voice was low, hoarse—and crackling with both frustration and excitement.
"The Ōtsutsuki bloodline's fusion difficulty far exceeds expectations."
"We've burned through a hundred clone bodies with no stable success."
Soren's eyes cooled with mild disappointment.
But Root's thin lips curled.
"However… we have made significant breakthroughs with Wood Release."
"Please, Supreme Leader—this way."
He stripped off his bloody smock, revealing a bony frame under his clean lab coat, and led Soren to a sealed test chamber.
The chamber was a square metal room. No furniture, no clutter. Just four thick alloy walls—reinforced enough to hold a weaker Kage-level shinobi without issue.
Soren and Root watched from behind a glass observation screen.
After a moment, a metal gate rumbled open below, and a young clone stepped into view—wearing plain, standard-issue clothing and nothing else.
Soren narrowed his eyes.
If this worked… he'd be one step closer to Rinnegan territory.
Root's cheeks twitched with excitement.
"Begin Wood Release demonstration."
The clone nodded crisply.
"Understood. Activating Wood Release."
"Wood Release · Great Forest Technique."
His hands flashed through seals. Chakra surged.
From his arms, wooden tendrils and branches burst forth, whipping through the air—
"Good—"
The word had barely left Soren's mouth when the wood went berserk.
The branches twisted in the wrong directions, accelerated, and impaled the clone from every angle—through chest, limbs, and neck. Blood sprayed, showering the chamber.
The clone jerked once. Twice. Then sagged, skewered like a trapped animal in a nest of wood.
Root frowned, muttering to himself.
"Still unstable…"
"We've tried Uzumaki clones. Senju clones. And finally Uchiha clones, which had the best compatibility rates…"
"But something still isn't enough. Either the sample set is too small… or we just haven't killed enough of them yet."
He tapped his chin with his scalpel.
"We'll have to greatly expand the pool of DNA donors and clone variants—somewhere in that diversity, there must be a configuration that accepts Hashirama Senju's Wood Release perfectly."
Soren watched him ramble for a moment, then reached into a storage scroll and pulled out a fresh one, handing it over.
"Inside is Uchiha Madara's corpse."
"And five sets of three-tomoe Sharingan."
"Try implanting Sharingan into your Wood Release test clones."
Wood Release was pure Yang. The Sharingan was peak Yin. If something was going to balance out the violent growth, it would be that.
Wood Release alone wasn't enough to make Soren happy—but it was an acceptable sign of progress.
Madara's Eternal Mangekyō, of course, remained safely in Soren's own hands.
Root cradled the scroll like a holy relic, eyes shining with clinical madness.
Soren didn't flinch.
"You can put Ōtsutsuki bloodline research on hold."
"From now on, all your effort goes into perfecting Wood Release transplantation. I don't want a prototype."
"I want a finished product."
"Understood, Supreme Leader!"
Root rubbed the scroll against his cheek like a cat marking its territory, and Soren finally looked away.
"I'm here for more than bloodline updates," he continued. "I have a second assignment for you."
"Your orders?" Root said at once.
"The New World is full of powerful non-human beings. At the top are the so-called True Dragon Kings."
"My body there is a bit… fragile. I want it strengthened with dragon blood."
Root's fingers tightened on the scroll. His breathing quickened.
"Of course, we can't get True Dragon blood yet."
Soren smirked faintly.
"But lesser species are fair game. The shinobi corps will be hunting them in the New World anyway. They'll be shipped here as samples."
"Start with them. When the dragons fall, you'll be ready."
"At once, Supreme Leader."
Root looked almost euphoric.
Soren's expression turned thoughtful.
"We'll also be expanding B2's staff. From now on, this—" he gestured around him "—is Inner B2."
"You'll excavate further down and build a surface B2 above it. That outer floor will handle non-human specimens from the New World and standard bloodline research."
"Recruit personnel openly for that level through the Institute. Equipment requests go through Director Sōju and the Secretariat."
Root nodded. More hands meant more work done. The best of those hands could later be "filtered down" into Inner B2.
After hashing out practical details, Soren's clone dispersed into smoke.
Far above, the original Soren stood in his office, gazing out over a Konoha that changed by the day—streets busier, buildings taller, laughter louder.
His eyes were full of satisfaction.
He sipped a cup of premium deer blood tonic supplied by the Nara, then glanced at the three women working industriously around him: Minako and Kaori in the office, Governance at the Police HQ coordinating hiring for Outer City District Three and the Re-Estize Kingdom's new security bureau.
Shrine Maiden Momiji was still blushing herself into oblivion after yesterday.
No need to tease her again—for now.
The Education Bureau was pushing to expand the upper-tier ninja academy. They'd already called Guang in for curriculum meetings.
Compared to all that, Soren thought, eyes turning sly, the New World's little "Beast-of-Burden" combo has far more free time.
His consciousness slipped across worlds like a stone skipping over water.
Back toward a carriage in another sky.
Read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon -> patreon.com/lucarioTL