The morning haze over Kumogakure always clung like a second skin. Thin sheets of cloud rolled lazily across the jagged cliffs, washing everything in a silver glow. But for Rai, the mist wasn't the most important thing in the world today.
Today, he turned six.
And the Reliquary finally opened.
He woke without the usual sluggishness, heart pounding under his ribs like a battle drum. His small hands trembled as he pulled on his standard Academy uniform, feet moving faster than his still-waking mind. He didn't even notice the chill in the floorboards as he bolted outside, barely pausing to shut the door behind him.
The scroll had appeared at the edge of his vision the moment he awoke. Not physical—more like a mental presence etched in gold light, hovering just behind his eyes.
System Online: Reliquary Activation Confirmed.
Awakened bearer detected.
One draw available. Proceed with care.
He didn't know what the Reliquary was. Not really. His parents weren't ninja, and his teachers had never spoken of anything like this. But he'd felt it for months. Something old, coiled deep inside him. And now it had a name.
He didn't question it. Kumogakure didn't raise children to doubt strength. It raised them to use it.
---
Rai found a quiet perch atop a flat rock near the Academy field—a space he used to avoid bullies or nosy instructors. The mist had begun to burn off, and the sun speared down in long golden rays. He took a breath and closed his eyes.
First Draw Initiated.
Light bloomed in his mind, not blinding but clear. Five cards rose from nothingness, suspended in a slow spiral. Each one shimmered with impossible detail: edge-gilded, cold to the mind's touch. Familiar and alien.
1. Masked Dragon
2. Kuriboh
3. La Jinn the Mystical Genie of the Lamp
4. Mystical Space Typhoon
5. Call of the Haunted
Rai opened his eyes with a sharp inhale.
Cards. Like from the stories his father read from old game books. But these... these pulsed with chakra. His chakra. He could feel the threads between them and himself.
He reached forward, and the first card—Masked Dragon—hovered at his fingertips.
Summoning requires 15% chakra expenditure.
That seemed like a lot. But not unbearable. His reserves, even at his age, were decent—barely below low-chūnin. That meant he could summon two, maybe three cards in a day if he paced himself.
He chose not to summon.
Not yet.
The others were no less strange. Kuriboh felt light, buzzing like static against his mind. Harmless... but maybe useful? La Jinn was heavy, like it carried the weight of something ancient. He got a sense of raw power from that one, the kind that made his skin prickle.
Mystical Space Typhoon and Call of the Haunted didn't feel alive the way the others did. Their weight wasn't in spirit, but effect. One felt like wind and shattering. The other, like a cold whisper.
"What are you?" he asked under his breath, not expecting an answer.
---
Later that day, after the Academy lecture on elemental chakra basics, Rai sat in the back, feigning disinterest while running his thoughts in circles.
The Reliquary was chakra-based. That much was clear.
But what were these cards?
The system pinged again, soft and sudden.
System Notice: Reliquary of the Forgotten: Manifestation Protocols Unlocked.
You are now bound to the Reliquary—a spiritual vessel housing remnants of lost worlds and broken ages. These are not jutsu. They are memories, trapped in form, waiting to be shaped by chakra and will.
Monster Manifestation: Fixed constructs. Will not scale with chakra beyond summon threshold. Overloading may lead to instability or collapse.
Spell & Trap Constructs: Born of chakra. Their power, range, and duration scale directly with invested chakra at time of use.
"The Reliquary does not create. It remembers."
Rai swallowed hard. That line... it felt more like a warning than a guideline.
So, monsters were bound to the chakra he spent at the moment of summoning.
Spells and traps were flexible, tools that responded to his will.
That made sense.
He could already think of a few uses for Mystical Space Typhoon, especially if he could scale its intensity—a wind technique variant, maybe, or a jutsu disruptor.
He scribbled diagrams into his notebook, not even hiding it anymore. His instructor gave him a glance but said nothing.
After class, he walked home with his mind burning. He had power. Not just chakra, but something rarer.
Potential.
Not even the Raikage could guess what this power might become.
And for now, it was a secret only he knew.
He looked at the floating interface again. One draw per day. But the system hadn't said he had to use it immediately.
He had an idea.
He would save his draws.
If one card a day was good... what would three condensed draws offer?
He smiled.
Let them all chase missions and ranks. Rai would build a deck worthy.