The sun hung low over Training Ground Three, casting long shadows across the dirt as Team Seven gathered for another grueling session under Kakashi's command. My hood was pulled low, concealing the four eyes I was born with, while my body—taller, broader, and stronger than any twelve-year-old's had any right to be—hummed with the quiet power of my modifications. A second heart beat steadily in my chest, nearly complete, boosting my stamina; my lungs, expanded through chakra-fueled growth, drew deep breaths that fueled hours of relentless training. My frame, creeping toward six feet, echoed the towering, muscular dominance of Ryomen Sukuna from Jujutsu Kaisen, though I'd discarded the need for his four arms or two mouths—unnecessary in the Naruto world's chakra-driven battles. My goal was clear: sculpt a body to amplify my chakra, like Sukuna's cursed energy or the Astartes' engineered resilience from Warhammer 40,000, to achieve power, control, and freedom.
Kakashi's latest test was deceptively simple: a survival exercise. We were to navigate a dense forest, evade traps, and reach a checkpoint by nightfall, working as a team. "No one gets left behind," Kakashi said, his eye glinting over his book. "A shinobi's strength lies in their bonds."
Naruto nodded eagerly, Sasuke scoffed, and I stayed silent, my gamer instincts from Baldur's Gate kicking in. This was a party quest, testing synergy and strategy. Team Seven was a volatile mix—Naruto's chaos, Sasuke's ambition, my calculated restraint—but I saw potential. In RPGs, a balanced team could overcome any challenge, and I'd use these two to sharpen my edge while keeping my true power hidden. Hiruzen's scrutiny, Danzo's suspicions, and Kakashi's watchful gaze were ever-present, but I'd turn their attention into an advantage.
The forest was a maze of vines, pitfalls, and hidden wires. Naruto, predictably, triggered a trap within minutes, a net snaring him as he yelped. Sasuke moved to cut him free, but I sensed a secondary trap—chakra-infused wires humming faintly in the underbrush. My enhanced senses, sharpened by my modified physiology, picked up the vibration. "Stop," I said, my voice sharp. I flicked my fingers, unleashing Dismantle's invisible chakra blades to slice the wires before they could spring.
Sasuke shot me a look, half-impressed, half-annoyed. "How'd you know?"
"Pay attention," I said, deflecting. Naruto, freed, grinned. "Nice one, Archon! You're like a human trap detector!"
I ignored him, moving forward. My second heart kept my chakra steady, my lungs fueling long bursts of speed as I scouted ahead. The forest was littered with obstacles—spiked pits, decoy paths, even a crude genjutsu that made a clearing seem safe. I countered the illusion with my own, a Mirror Mirage Technique inspired by Baldur's Gate's Mirror Image spell. Four clones appeared, their movements lifelike, their faint footsteps echoing to confuse any hidden observers. Sasuke's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, his Sharingan likely catching the chakra flow.
Halfway through, we hit a real threat: a pack of rogue shinobi, likely deserters, lying in wait. Their chakra was weak, but their numbers—five—and coordination made them dangerous. Kakashi watched from the shadows, his presence a test. Naruto charged, summoning Shadow Clones, while Sasuke flanked with a fireball jutsu. I hung back, analyzing like I would in Warhammer 40,000, where Astartes squads exploited enemy weaknesses with surgical precision.
I wove a shadow-based genjutsu, inspired by Shikamaru's Shadow Imitation, making one shinobi's shadow seem to writhe, freezing him in place. Another lunged at me, and I met him head-on, my chakra-enhanced strength letting me block his sword with a kunai. I tapped his chest with a restrained Cleave, the contact-based technique leaving a shallow cut that sent him retreating. My taller frame and dense muscles, reinforced to mimic Sukuna's muscular dominance, gave me an edge, my movements fluid and intimidating.
Naruto's clones overwhelmed a second shinobi, while Sasuke took down a third with a well-placed kick. The remaining two fled, but I caught one with a confusion-based genjutsu, inspired by Ino's Mind Transfer. The illusion flooded his senses with flickering images—me in ten places at once—leaving him stumbling until Naruto knocked him out. The fight was over in minutes, but Kakashi's silence was louder than any praise.
We reached the checkpoint by dusk, exhausted but intact. Kakashi emerged, his eye crinkling in what might've been a smile. "You passed," he said. "But you're still not a team. Naruto, you're reckless. Sasuke, you're too independent. Archon, you're holding back—again. Trust your teammates, or you'll fail when it counts."
Naruto protested, Sasuke grunted, and I nodded, my mind racing. Kakashi's words echoed Hiruzen's talk of the Will of Fire, but bonds were a double-edged sword. In RPGs, a party's strength came from trust, but trust was a risk. Still, Naruto's raw power and Sasuke's precision were useful. I'd play along, let them think I was part of their "family," while keeping my true strength—my modified body, my deadly techniques—hidden.
That night, back in my shack, I resumed my modifications. The medical scroll guided me as I channeled chakra to my second heart, its beat now strong and steady, amplifying my chakra reinforcement. My lungs, expanded to near-Astartes capacity, let me train without fatigue, each breath fueling my relentless drive. I pushed my bone elongation, my height inching upward, my frame broadening to rival Sukuna's towering physique—without the extra arms or mouths, which I'd deemed impractical for a shinobi's agility and precision.
I tested my progress, lifting a boulder that would've crushed a normal genin, my muscles dense and unyielding. Dismantle sliced through a tree with pinpoint accuracy, Cleave shattered a rock with a single touch. My genjutsu grew sharper, too—a shadow-based illusion paralyzed a stray dog, while a confusion genjutsu disoriented a bat mid-flight. The Malevolent Shrine, my ultimate technique, remained too draining, but my body was becoming a vessel capable of wielding it.
Team Seven was a crucible, forging me through conflict and scrutiny. Naruto's chaos, Sasuke's rivalry, Kakashi's insight—they were sharpening my skills, even as Hiruzen and Danzo watched from the shadows. In Warhammer 40,000, Astartes were loyal to their Emperor; in Jujutsu Kaisen, Sukuna bowed to no one. I was Archon, loyal only to my goals. Bonds might be Konoha's strength, but my power—my body, my chakra, my will—would be mine alone.