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Chapter 1 - The being Who Tore Worlds Apart

NARUTO: TRANSPORTED TO THE SOUL SOCIETY

Chapter 1 — The being Who Tore Worlds Apart

The world burned in silence.

Naruto Uzumaki stood alone atop the Hokage Monument, his orange cloak flapping in a wind that wasn't supposed to exist. It was a strange, unnatural gale, one that seemed to pull at his bones instead of his hair. His senses screamed at him, an instinct honed through decades of battle—this was no ordinary storm.

It was him.

From the empty horizon, a figure emerged, stepping through space as though reality were a shallow river he could wade across. His white robes shimmered with patterns older than time. Two horns curved from his head like crescents, his eyes layered with infinite tomoe.

Shibai Ōtsutsuki.

"Naruto Uzumaki," the god spoke, his voice neither loud nor soft, yet it drowned out the sound of the world. "You have lingered long enough in this… fragile vessel of existence."

Naruto's hand twitched toward his kunai pouch. He already knew this was pointless. Against someone like Shibai, weapons were nothing but toys. Still, instinct demanded he be ready.

"What do you want?" Naruto's voice was low, steady.

Shibai's lips curled into something resembling amusement. "Not want. Need. The multiverse has patterns… threads… and you four have tangled too many of them."

The air shifted—Naruto's heart skipped. Four.

"Boruto. Sasuke. Kawaki," Naruto said.

Shibai tilted his head, as if nodding to a child who had finally understood a simple lesson. "Yes. And now, you will go… somewhere else. A realm unconnected to your chakra, where you will learn what it means to be powerless."

Before Naruto could move, the god raised his hand. Space warped—not in spirals like Kamui, not in flashes like Flying Thunder God—but as though reality itself bent inward. The Hokage Monument, the sky, the entire Hidden Leaf… folded into nothing.

Naruto felt his stomach wrench. His vision turned inside-out. The wind became a roar. And then—

—darkness.

---

When Naruto's eyes opened, he was falling.

Below him was a sprawling city of black roofs and winding stone streets, all bathed in a pale moonlight that seemed frozen in time. The air felt… empty. No chakra. Not a drop. His link to Kurama's power, to the very energy he'd breathed since birth—it was gone.

He slammed into a tiled rooftop, rolling with the impact. His body hurt more than it should have, and his breathing felt strangely thin.

"This… isn't the Leaf," Naruto muttered.

A flicker of movement. Two figures appeared on the rooftop across from him, dressed in black robes with white sashes. Swords at their hips. Their presence wasn't chakra—it was something else. Heavy. Oppressive.

One of them—a tall man with sharp eyes—pointed his sword at Naruto. "You're not supposed to be here, intruder. State your name and division."

Naruto slowly stood, eyeing them warily. "Naruto Uzumaki, Seventh Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village. And I have no idea what a division is."

The second figure—a woman with short hair—exchanged a glance with her partner. "He's not lying," she whispered. "I don't feel any spiritual signature… but he survived falling into Seireitei?"

The man tightened his grip on the hilt. "Doesn't matter. If you're not a Soul Reaper, you're either a lost soul… or an enemy."

Naruto sighed. "Listen, I'm just looking for three people—"

The man lunged.

Steel sang through the air. Naruto sidestepped, his reflexes still sharp even without chakra, but his body felt sluggish. The woman moved in from the side, blade arcing toward his ribs.

Naruto ducked, grabbed the edge of the roof, and swung down into the alley below. He landed hard, pain jolting through his legs. He needed answers—and fast.

That's when he felt it.

A familiar voice.

"Naruto…?"

He turned. From the shadows stepped Boruto—ragged, breathing hard, his cloak torn. His eyes were wide with a mix of relief and panic.

"Boruto! You're okay!" Naruto rushed forward—only for Boruto to grab his arm and pull him into another alley.

"Not so loud. They're hunting us," Boruto hissed.

"Who's 'they'?"

Boruto's jaw tightened. "The people here. Soul Reapers. And it's not just us—Sasuke and Kawaki are here too. But they're… scattered. And Dad… this place is dangerous. They've already—"

A scream cut through the night. Not far away.

Naruto's gut twisted. He knew that kind of scream—the last one someone makes before they die.

Boruto's expression hardened. "That's them."

They sprinted through the narrow streets, the cold air biting against their skin. They emerged into a courtyard lit by pale lanterns—and froze.

A man lay crumpled on the ground, blood spreading beneath him. A Soul Reaper, judging by the robes. Standing over him was a figure Naruto recognized instantly—tall, black hair falling over his face, sword in hand.

"Sasuke!" Naruto called out.

Sasuke turned, his Sharingan spinning—and for just a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Relief. Then he glanced past Naruto, toward the rooftops.

"We don't have time. They're coming."

Naruto looked back. Shadows moved along the rooftops, too many to count. Their blades gleamed in the moonlight.

Boruto's hand tightened on his kunai. "Guess we're not getting a warm welcome."

Sasuke stepped forward, blood still dripping from his blade. "Naruto. This world doesn't run on chakra. Whatever Shibai did… he put us in their territory. And they think we're the enemy."

The first Soul Reaper dropped into the courtyard, his sword already drawn. His spiritual pressure hit Naruto like a wall of ice.

The man spoke one word—cold, final:

"Die."

---

To be continued...

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