Arc X Chapter 19
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 Arc X Chapter 19


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“Yuki-chan, be a good girl and wait with Katsuki for me to return.”

 

“Understood, Nee-san.” Yuki smiled like the filial sister she was.

 

Asami marched across the altar, towards the podium, driven by what could be only described as destiny at her back. The magatama was calling for her.

 

A green, curved bead lay before her within her grasp. Her hand reached for the jade, a move that went unopposed. The jewel was claimed by her, as her skin touched the cold jade surface. A single touch was sufficient for the jewel to make its presence known. A strange, mysterious spiritual aura originating from the magatama clashed with hers. The jade was indeed special. The jade was interacting with her chakra. Its energy was flowing through her, tickling her aura and the nature of her chakra. The jewel seemed to harbour an incredible amount of energy, a giant reservoir of a chakra peculiar in nature at her command and disposal, a chakra invigorated by the power of the world itself. A curious sight, but a gift Asami wouldn't forego. Chakra was chakra. You could have never enough of it.

 

Yet beyond mere amplification of her powers, there lurked more below the surface ... Deep within the magatama, there was residing an ancient presence of unknown origin, a presence that was resonating, intermixing with her chakra. Her senses expanded, and her chakra increased in potency, reminding her of the day she had awakened her mangekyou sharingan.

 

Her lips moved on their own, moved by primordial truth. “Since the time of the creation of heaven and earth, since the time when the divine and the profane were established, since the time that the spiritual and the mundane were divided, since the time that nature and man separated, there has been ignorance. The absolute and divine way has been forgotten, and the absolute nature of the world has been lost. Yet there is enlightenment. To the deluded ones, they are separated. To the enlightened ones, they are the one and the same.”

 

The magatama reacted to her words by absorbing a portion of her chakra. The jade began glowing ominously and lifted from her palm up to float in the air.

 

Asami grinned, satisfied. The magatama was finally hers. Yet it was at this moment that her new subject betrayed its mistress in cold blood. The jade shot right through her heart; piercing her very soul. What ... was ... happe ... ning ... This ... was not ... planned ...

 

Her body fell, as her vision turned black. The world around her waned, and her consciousness faded.

 

“Nee-san ... ! Nee-san ... .... ! Nee-san ... ... ...! Nee ...”


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“Where am I?” Asami recuperated from her sudden moment of weakness, regaining consciousness. Her hand reached for her disoriented head, while her eyes studied her surroundings. Strange purple water covered the ground, and darkness greeted her wherever she looked. Asami found herself surrounded by an empty void of absolute nothingness, yet the place felt familiar. Her senses felt the comforting presence of her chakra. It was everywhere.

 

Asami rose to explore the area, only to spot an enigmatic silhouette of a figure seemingly floating above the ground in the distance. Her eyes narrowed in understandable suspicion.

 

As it turned out, her suspicion was not misplaced, as the enigmatic figure suddenly approached her. His serene resounded through the void. “Who art thou?”

 

Asami blinked, startled by his, even by her standards, archaic speech before talking back. “Well, I must reciprocate thy question, who art thou? Identify theeself!”

 

“...” The enigmatic figure remained silent, still shrouded in the darkness of the void. Her eyes discerned nothing but his vague silhouette.

 

“...” Asami returned his favour with respective taciturnity. Their silent staring contest continued.

 

“... ...”

 

“... ...”

 

“... ... ...”

 

“... ... ...”

 

Asami narrowed her eyes, conceding defeat. “I guess we have arrived at an impasse, haven’t we?”

 

“... ... ... ...” The mysterious figure closed his eyes and practised silence, ignoring her in a move that either betrayed his foolishness, or arrogance.

 

“Still as monosyllabic as ever. It seems that I have no other choice.” A sigh escaped her, before Asami saw herself forced to resort to a polite bow in a motion of modest respect. Respect your elders, such the traditions demand. Respect where respect was due, even when misplaced. “Salutations, my name is Asami, a descendant of Indra. I am greeting you, whoever or whatever you might be. ”

 

“... ... ... ...” The old man still refused to speak, aggravating her only further with his interminable quietude. The senile man was trying her patience to the utmost. Until he finally graced her with his presence. From beyond the mist, an old man appeared of sagely demeanour and marked by the passage of time. His skin was pale, and horns protruded from his head. Yet her attention was drawn solely to his lavender eyes.

 

“...” Asami held her breath. These eyes ... She recognised them. It was the Rinnegan.

 

The man cleared his throat and spoke. His voice rang throughout the emptiness of the room, a voice ancient and venerable, filled with presumed wisdom. “Long hath it been since last I had discoursed with a mortal child. Much time hath since passed.” His metallic staff struck the ground. “Thou, child, hast laid claim to the magatama, to the jewel passed to me by my mother, and passed by my to my children. My name is Hagoromo. I am the one who established peace and order. I am the one once knownst to the world as the Sage of Six Paths. Unless age deceiveth mine eyes, thou art a child of Indra.”

 

Asami offered a polite smile. “So the legends are true. The Sage of Six Paths truly existed.”

 

The sage nodded. “Thou art not mistaken, though I assumed mine existence should be common knowledge even in this day and age.”

 

Asami giggled. “Ye presume too much. Man, by his nature, is a forgetful creature, and the passage of time an enemy most insidious. After centuries, what was once knownst to many becometh only a distant memory to the few. It is then that memory faileth the weak mind of man only far too easily. The past once knownst becometh an era shrouded in myths and legends, forgotten, distorted, by those who should remember.”

 

The sage closed his eyes, contemplating, “I see, child of Indra, thy words do carry undeniable wisdom. Speak, what dost thou wish?”


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