Darkness.
Endless, suffocating darkness pressed in from all sides. The crushing void made it nearly impossible to stay conscious. His limbs refused to move, numb and unresponsive. Struggling yielded nothing—only more pressure. And so, he endured.
There was no time to wonder why this was happening. The only instinct left was to struggle… and survive.
Just when the suffocation became unbearable, a faint glow appeared in the distance.
After what felt like five or six years trapped in absolute darkness, light returned to his world. Should he rejoice—or despair?
He didn't think. He crawled desperately toward it.
But what awaited him wasn't salvation—it was weakness. His small, flailing limbs were useless. A strange, sticky fluid clung to his frail body, and the air was sharp and cold. Pain assaulted his nerves, drawing an involuntary cry from his lips.
As the fluid dried, the discomfort only worsened. He could barely open his eyes. His fragile hands clawed at his face, instinctively trying to see. He needed to see the light again.
Then came another sharp pain—his umbilical cord being severed. He cried again. When his eyes finally cracked open, the world was blinding. But even that stinging brightness was beautiful.
After so long in darkness… to see again, to feel again—it was overwhelming.
Tears blurred his vision. Not from pain, but joy.
He had been reborn.
"Quick, clean the baby with warm water! Shikaku-sama should be back soon!"
The voice was soft, and distinctly female.
"Yes, Lady Yoshino!" came a respectful reply.
Japanese?! the newborn child thought, startled. He tried to speak—but only babyish gurgles came out.
No. He could understand Japanese—but he couldn't talk. His lips trembled in frustration. His brain was intact, but his body… was that of a newborn.
Still, he forced himself to remain calm. Let them wrap him in cloth. Let them carry him. All he could do now was listen.
"Lady Yoshino, how do you feel?" the gentle voice asked again.
"I'm alright, Mother... has Shikaku not returned yet?"
Just then, a soft puff echoed from the next room—the subtle release of chakra from a Body Flicker Technique.
The sliding paper door opened. A tall, lean man in Konoha jonin armor stepped into the room. His face was tired but composed. A ponytail hung behind his head, and he carried the distinct air of the Nara clan.
Nara Shikaku had arrived.
He quickly washed his hands, then strode over to the bed. Supporting his wife with one arm, he kissed her forehead and reached out to cradle the newborn in the other.
"I'm sorry, Yoshino. I couldn't be here for the birth," Shikaku said softly. "I rushed back the moment the fighting ended. I was so worried about you both."
Yoshino leaned against him, eyes red, but she smiled.
"I understand. You're a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. You did your duty. That's what matters."
Then she looked down at the baby in his arms. Her expression softened.
"Our son will grow up strong—just like his father. We'll name him… Shikamaru."
Meanwhile, the baby's wide-open eyes were filled with disbelief.
No way… Nara Shikaku? Nara Yoshino? This baby is… Shikamaru?!
He had been reborn into the Naruto universe. Into one of its most prestigious clans. As one of its most brilliant minds.
This wasn't a dream.
In his past life, he had been a renowned young scientist, a biogeneticist with groundbreaking research. He'd clawed his way up from poverty through sheer brilliance and ambition. By the time he was thirty, he was already the lead researcher of a government-sponsored project—one that explored the limits of human potential. His specialty: the genetics of evolution.
While others used money, power, or connections to climb society's ranks, he relied on one thing only—his mind.
And now, that mind had been reborn in the Naruto world.
He wasn't upset. On the contrary, he felt reborn in every sense.
This world wasn't governed by wealth or corruption—it was ruled by strength.
In this world, a single shinobi could hold more power than armies. A lone Uchiha or a Sannin could rewrite history. Strength determined everything—fate, freedom, even peace.
And he had been born into the Nara Clan.
A clan known for its intelligence. A clan whose members were trusted advisors to the Hokage. A clan with access to hidden knowledge, powerful jutsu, and noble standing.
With the mind of a genius scientist… and the body of Shikamaru Nara…
This was destiny.
He had lived once in pursuit of knowledge. Now, he would live in pursuit of power.
This was a world where talent could shape nations.
Where he could rise above all.
"In this world of chakra and bloodshed—I shall descend!"