(First Person POV)
Twelve years.
That's how long I've been imprisoned inside this mindscape — twelve years of relentless training, stitching together fragments of Minato and Kushina's memories lingering here like spectral echoes. Twelve years of learning to wield chakra — a crude yet fascinating energy — mastering every technique hidden within their minds, all held back by one cursed seal.
The Dead Demon Consuming Seal.
It bound half the Nine-Tailed Fox inside this vessel… the boy who should have been my rebirth. Instead, I was sealed away alongside the beast — a monarch caged like a pet.
It was supposed to be different.
The last vestige of my creator's power had promised me a gift: the purest strain of the Ōtsutsuki bloodline, that of Shibai — the one who transcended this plane of existence. But what good is godlike potential when you're locked behind mortal chains? Even now, I sometimes think my past life's power would have been preferable to this replacement, this strange experiment.
Who would have thought the Absolute Being would surprise even me? It had already stunned us once — when it gave Ashborn dominion over death itself, an army of shadows that never tires or dies. The first emotion I felt when I learned of Ashborn's new power was not intrigue, nor awe, nor amusement at how the game would change. It was jealousy. Perhaps even betrayal.
Ashborn and I were the first and greatest fragments of creation — he of light, I of dark — two sides of the same cosmic coin. We were given different duties, different burdens. Why was he rewarded with a gift beyond measure while I was left with nothing but a half measure of destruction?
The answer came only after my death — at the hands of the mortal Ashborn chose as his successor.
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Flashback
"I still can't believe he did that," I spat, my voice dripping contempt. "Chose a mortal and gave him his power — power over death. A choice so absurd I never thought it possible. But I'm dead now, so what do you want from a dead monarch? Should I ask if all this amuses you? After all, you created us for your entertainment."
A faint chuckle answered before he spoke. My creator. The being who made me.
"Oh, I don't remember making you sarcastic. More of a master manipulator with a taste for blood and battle," said the Absolute Being, the one who had forged me.
"You're alive—"
"Alive?" he cut me off. "Oh, trust me, I'm dead. There's no method across my creation that could resurrect me."
"Then why are you here? Last I heard, your own so-called children killed you."
"Ah, yes. But do you really think my creations could kill me without my consent? I gave them the idea myself." He spoke so casually, twisting reality with every word. "I grew tired of it all — the living, the ancients, watching you fight each other endlessly. So, I set the board, then walked away. I left gifts for both you and Ash."
"Ah. Ash. A mortal name for one who holds death."
"The requirements were the same for you two: both needed to truly die. But this time, I decided differently. One would guard my world, and perhaps become its new master; the other, I would cast far away, beyond the reach of my kind. No masters. No orders. Just freedom."
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End Flashback
And so here I am.
Trapped, because I never expected mortals could summon a being with the domain of death in this universe and then seal me. But I am sure of one thing — even this was decided by my creator. Twelve years locked in this vessel. Twelve years watching this village — the one for which Minato and Kushina died to protect — spit on their legacy. Hatred. Disgust. Starvation. Manipulation. This child, the shell containing me, living off expired food and the sheer durability of the Uzumaki bloodline.
Watching all this, and feeling all the emotions the child — Naruto — could feel, I loathe to admit it, but those feelings changed something in me. A question unasked and unexpected surfaced: why do these mortals cling to life so fiercely, their fickle, short lives? What is the point of living for so brief a time? How does this world function — a world without a master, without someone to oversee it, to protect it, to ensure things work properly? How did such creatures come into existence? Perhaps I will never know the answers. Perhaps I will. All I know is that I must train, adapt to this body, and wait for my release.
Even the fox was an insult — sharing a prison with something so far beneath me. After four or five years, I ended it. The Ōtsutsuki instinct runs deep; I overpowered and absorbed Kurama. His chakra swelled my own, and with it came something far more precious: his knowledge.
Centuries of memories. Secrets of Ninshū from the man they call the Sage of Six Paths. Insights into natural energy and the fatal flaw of Hagoromo's design — immortality without growth. The tailed beasts had been stunted, locked out of their true potential. If allowed to evolve, they could have rivaled gods. But Hagoromo bound them to mediocrity.
Now there are eight instead of nine.
And I — Antares, once Monarch of Destruction — have become something else entirely.
Within Kushina's memories I have even found the key: the way to break the seal. But it requires a precise moment, a lapse in the flow of chakra sustaining the barrier. One minute. That's all I'll need to shatter this prison. For freedom.
And this time, I will not just be a bringer of destruction. I will be whatever I choose to be. For the first time in my existence, I am free to decide what Antares will become.