Naruto lay on the cold stone, gasping for air.
The headache caused by the information overload was slowly receding, like an ocean tide pulling back from the shore. But instead of the usual exhaustion, it left behind a strange, ringing clarity.
His mind, which usually resembled a disturbed beehive—a chaotic vortex of grievances, fear, and loud thoughts—was now silent. Frighteningly silent and focused.
"I have to use this," he whispered. His voice, reflecting off the stone walls, sounded firm and unfamiliar. Adult.
The boy slowly sat up, leaning his back against the pedestal. The Jade Tablet was gone. It had given everything.
Naruto closed his eyes. He didn't need to strain; the schematics, diagrams, and instructions surfaced in his memory with terrifying clarity, as if branded onto his cerebral cortex.
Sit. Calm the heart. Find the rhythm.
He crossed his legs, adopting the lotus position as required by the Uzumaki Heavenly Circulation method.
Inhale. Long, slow, through the nose.
Exhale. Through the mouth, releasing tension.
At first, nothing happened. There was only the silence of the dungeon and the thumping of his heart. But Naruto was stubborn. He continued to breathe, following the rhythm.
And then, he felt it.
It was like the light touch of a cool breeze, even though the air in the room remained still.
Qi.
White Energy. The vital force of the world, scattered everywhere.
It was radically different from Chakra. The chakra he sensed in moments of anger or fear was a hot, bubbling mixture of physical and spiritual energy coming from within. It pressed down on him.
Qi, however, came from the outside. Cool, neutral, and... pure.
Naruto imagined this white mist being drawn in through his pores and sinking into the channels—the meridians permeating his body.
At first, it was pleasant. Like a sip of cold water on a scorching day.
But then, the water turned into acid.
His body shuddered.
The Qi, being an absolutely pure substance, had entered his system and found filth.
A neglected orphan living on welfare, he subsisted on cheap ramen and expired milk, rarely seeing a vegetable. His organism was clogged with toxins. But worse than that, his channels were choked with the residue of the Fox's heavy, caustic chakra, which had been seeping through the seal for years.
For the pure Qi, it was like trying to flow through rusty pipes clogged with sludge.
And the Qi began the purge.
"Gh..." Naruto grit his teeth, stifling a groan.
The pain was sharp and searing. It felt as though a thousand ants with red-hot feet were crawling beneath his skin, scraping against bone, muscle, and vein. His six-year-old mind, accustomed to running away from pain, panicked. Stop! Cut it out! It hurts too much!
He wanted to uncross his legs, fall over, and curl into a ball. But a new part of his consciousness—the part that had absorbed the Tablet's wisdom—held him in place.
Endure. The filth is leaving you. If you stop now, it will remain forever.
The Qi-Concentration, still weak, acted as an anchor. Naruto forced himself to sit upright, even as heavy tremors racked his frame. Sweat rolled down his face like hail.
This was his first battle. Not with bullies, not with hunger. A battle for himself.
Time lost its meaning. An hour? Two? An eternity?
He kept breathing: every inhale a torture, every exhale a relief. Mentally, he pushed the white stream through his meridians, breaking through blockages and washing the "trash" to the surface.
With every cycle, the pain grew quieter, and the flow inside grew wider.
Finally, as he completed a full circle of circulation, his stomach cramped violently, and Naruto, unable to hold on any longer, collapsed onto his side. Darkness mercifully covered his consciousness.
…
He woke up from the cold.
Silence still reigned in the stone chamber, broken only by his own raspy breathing. Naruto grimaced and tried to sit up. His body ached, but it was a pleasant ache, like after a long workout of muscles he didn't know he had.
But then the smell hit him.
A heavy, sour, nauseating stench, like a garbage dump in the heat of summer.
Naruto looked around in panic, searching for the source, and then looked down at his arms.
"Ugh..."
His skin was covered in a thin film of dark, sticky substance, resembling tar. His orange t-shirt was soaked through and plastered to his body, turned a dirty brown. The filth had exited through his pores while he was unconscious.
Toxins. Slag. Years of bad food and neglect. All of it had been expelled.
With disgust, Naruto wiped the slime from his forearm. Beneath the layer of "tar," his skin was red, but... clean.
He stood up. His knees no longer trembled. Quite the opposite.
He felt strange. Light. As if a heavy backpack he had carried his whole life—one he had stopped noticing—had suddenly been removed.
The boy blinked. In the gloom of the dungeon, the outlines of the symbols on the walls seemed sharper. Dust motes in the air were clearly visible. Even the air entering his lungs tasted sweeter.
Naruto closed his eyes again, turning his gaze inward.
Where there had once been only emptiness or bubbling chaos, a thin, barely perceptible, but continuous stream now flowed. Warm and obedient.
He had done it. He had cleansed his meridians. He had laid the foundation.
He had entered the Early Stage of Foundation Establishment.
His lips stretched into a wide, genuine smile. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he was in control of his life.
"Not bad, brat."
The voice was low and vibrating, and it didn't come from the room. It resonated directly in the center of his skull. The sound of tectonic plates shifting, deep and ancient.
Naruto flinched, his eyes snapping open. The smile vanished. The euphoria of success evaporated, replaced by a cold knot in his stomach.
He had completely forgotten.
Inside, in the depths of his renewed channels, flowed not only pure Qi. There was a cage. And the tenant of that cage had just woken up.
And he was watching.