[Ding! Legendary Heroic Spirit 'Golden Flash · Minato' (Peak State) revival successful!]
[Heroic Spirit bound to host. Loyalty: Absolute!]
In his mind, the system's icy prompts fell like a god's decree at creation.
Shinju lifted his head toward the gold fissure that speared the heavens.
The "miracle" he had orchestrated—enough to overturn the entire shinobi world—had arrived.
Golden radiance poured from the rift.
It was warm, sacred, yet carried a dignity one could not meet with naked eyes. Wherever the light reached, the weight pressing on every chest only grew heavier.
All heads tilted back, mouths agape, minds blank.
They saw it.
At the source of that golden light—in the tear in the sky—a figure slowly appeared.
A man's silhouette.
Sun-bright blond hair.
A white cloak with crimson trim draped his shoulders, and on its back, two forceful scarlet characters blazed—
Fourth!
In his right hand, he held a uniquely shaped kunai with casual ease.
A Hiraishin kunai!
It was him!
Truly him!
The man who'd sacrificed himself to protect the village amid the Nine-Tails' rampage.
The hero Konoha hailed as the Golden Flash.
The Fourth Hokage—Minato.
Time froze completely.
Thousands of shinobi and civilians stood as if caught in a binding technique, unmoving.
Their eyes locked on the figure in the sky, forgetting even to breathe.
On the stage—
"Uh…"
A meaningless sound scraped out of Hiruzen's throat. His pipe slipped from his trembling lips and shattered on the planks.
His pupils shrank violently, reflecting the descending figure.
"Mi… Minato…"
His lips quivered, each syllable forced out with all his strength.
"No… impossible… This is impossible!"
How could the dead return?
It defied every law of the world. It overturned decades of understanding.
By his side, Jiraiya reacted the other way entirely.
The instant he recognized the figure, the legendary Sannin's eyes reddened.
Tears, large and hot, spilled uncontrollably down his cheeks.
His body shook with joy so fierce it bordered on pain.
"Minato…"
"It's Minato… Is it really you, Minato?!"
He reached out, as if to grasp that figure, voice hoarse—his heart a storm of disbelief, elation, and grief.
Under the stone-still stares of all—
Minato moved.
He made no wasted motion. His body simply inclined forward, and he drifted down like a feather with no weight, gently, toward the Hokage Rock.
His posture—poised and unhurried.
Blue eyes swept over the ravaged village below, over faces shocked, ecstatic, or afraid—then came to rest on the stage, on Hiruzen.
He touched down without a sound atop the Hokage Rock, the symbol of ultimate authority in Konoha—
Right beside his own carved visage.
He stood there.
The immaculate cloak stirred in the breeze.
His golden hair caught the light.
He merely stood, and an invisible pressure—so strong it stole the breath—rolled out from him as the center, blanketing the plaza.
This was not mere chakra pressure.
It was the natural aura of a warrior who had returned from the abyss—one who had looked through life and death—and now stood at his absolute peak, radiating unshakable confidence and control.
Against that presence, every thread of authority and sorrow Hiruzen had woven moments ago crumpled into a shabby, laughable skit.
The crowd—
Silent.
The deathly quiet held for a dozen seconds—
Until a child, voice wobbly with tears and doubt, broke it.
"I-Is that… the Fourth-sama?"
Like a stone dropped into still water, the words threw up a thousand ripples.
"It's the Fourth-sama!"
"I'm not seeing things! It's truly the Fourth!"
"Heavens! The Fourth didn't die! He's alive!"
Silence gave way to a volcano's roar—deafening cheers.
"Fourth!"
"Fourth!!"
"Fourth!!!"
Thousands of voices fused into a soundwave that seemed to shake the clouds apart.
Sorrow and aimlessness after the calamity ignited all at once, transmuted into fervor for a hero's return!
Whether it made sense no longer mattered. Their guardian had come home.
Konoha was saved!
Through it all, Minato remained calm.
His gaze never left Hiruzen on the stage.
Then he spoke.
His voice reached every ear—cleanly cleaving through the cheers.
It was as gentle as ever—yet rimed with ice.
"Long time no see, Third-sama."
Hiruzen jolted.
Minato's eyes slid to the infant in Hiruzen's arms.
"My son doesn't seem to need your concern."
That single sentence hit harder than any miracle.
The veil ripped away. The faces of Konoha's elites dimmed as one.
Color drained from Hiruzen's cheeks.
All his prepared lines—his freshly crafted image as a "merciful protector"—shattered to dust.
He opened his mouth to argue, but found no words.
What could he say?
That he meant to "protect" the hero's child?
In front of the boy's father?
It was the most absurd joke under heaven.
Jiraiya stiffened, the rush of joy ebbing as he heard the unhidden chill and distance in Minato's tone.
He looked from his teacher to the disciple upon the Rock—his heart a tangle of feelings.
Minato spared no more attention for the petrified Hiruzen.
His figure vanished—
And in the next beat—
He stood upon the stage, before Hiruzen.
So fast.
Speed at the limit.
No one present—not even Jiraiya—could follow his movement.
Such was Hiraishin no Jutsu (Flying Thunder God Technique) in its peak state.
Hiruzen's pupils pinched again. Instinct dragged him a step back.
Minato lowered his head to the sleeping child, and a gentle smile bloomed—born from the heart.
A father's smile.
"Naruto… Dad's home."
The plaza's cheers ebbed to a hush. All watched a hero father meet his child again.
Many women who had lost family wept anew—but these were tears of warmth.
Shinju stood among the crowd, face as impassive as stone.
But he knew—from this moment—the gears of Konoha had jumped their rails.
The fate of the world would change because of a single choice he made today.
He raised his head again.
The tenderness in his eyes iced over, sharpened.
His gaze slid past Hiruzen, past Jiraiya, past every senior figure in Konoha—
Like a blade, it tracked to an unremarkable corner of the crowd.
There stood an old man.
Half his face was bandaged, a single emotionless eye exposed.
Arms hidden in wide sleeves, posture stiff.
The head of Root.
Konoha's darkness.
Danzo.
The instant Minato's eyes touched him, a crack appeared for the first time in Danzo's placid mask.
(End of Chapter)
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