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"Shinobi Chronicle, Year 21."
"In the twenty-first year of the Shinobi Calendar, Uchiha Clan Head Uchiha Senichi engaged Senju Clan Head Senju Shūichi in a decisive battle across the northern wastelands. Senichi was slain."
"The Uchiha and Senju, whose enmity had worsened for generations, saw their conflict escalate beyond recovery following the death of the Uchiha patriarch. Tensions between the two clans intensified, and instability spread throughout the shinobi world. —Recorded by Official Historian: Black Zetsu"
..............
Mount Myōboku. Historical Records Hall.
Bamboo scrolls stacked like small mountains. The smell of ink and mountain mist braided together within the quiet air, disturbed only by the light whisper of brush on parchment.
Black Zetsu set down his pen, having carefully recorded the latest major event in the historical record.
"Entry complete, Grand Sage."
He offered the finished scroll with both hands.
Manji took it, fingertips touching the rough surface, and nodded. "Good."
Over the past several years, Manji had established a dedicated calendar system for the shinobi world. He'd designated the year of Ninshū's dissolution as Year One—the Shinobi Calendar. Everything before and after would be measured against that marker.
Senichi's death had occurred twenty-one years after the fall of Ninshū. Hence: Shinobi Year 21.
He'd considered using the Western calendar system from his previous life, but the pre-Kaguya history of this world was too chaotic and poorly documented to establish a reliable starting point. And the Kaguya era itself, steeped in the horrors of the Infinite Tsukuyomi, made for a poor foundation. Better to use a clean break—the end of Ninshū, the beginning of the clan era—as the baseline.
"There's something pleasing about being immortal and keeping records. Gives the centuries some structure."
Manji took a sip of water.
For a being that would outlive everything, chronicling history was the most meaningful use of excess time he'd found. It gave shape to the infinite stretch of years. Made each era distinct, rather than letting them blur together into an undistinguishable haze.
"Time to make it official."
He disappeared from the records hall and reappeared before the stone tablet on Longevity Peak.
The carved totems of Indra and Asura stared back at him, unchanged since the day he'd etched them.
This cycle's verdict was clear. Uchiha Senichi—Indra's reincarnation. Senju Shūichi—Asura's. The result: Asura's line won.
Manji studied the stone for a quiet moment.
"Tough break, Indra. Your eyes are your greatest weapon, but they burned out before you could reach their final form. That's not bad luck. That's a design flaw nobody left you the manual for."
Senichi had been trapped between two impossible choices. Keep using the Mangekyō and go blind on the battlefield. Or stop using it and lose his only advantage against Shūichi.
He'd chosen to gamble. Charge in while he still had vision, throw everything at one decisive battle, and hope the dice landed right.
They didn't.
Indra had never experienced the Mangekyō's side effects, so he'd never documented the path to the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. His descendants inherited the power without inheriting the solution. A weapon that destroyed its own wielder.
"This round—Asura wins."
Manji raised one finger. Pale blue Sage chakra gathered at the tip, glowing softly in the dim light.
He pressed it against the stone beneath Asura's totem and carved a single, clean mark.
The first tally. The first result of the Thousand-Year Pact.
"First round, done."
His voice carried no celebration, no disappointment. Just acknowledgment.
"Interesting, though. Not every reincarnation is going to be Hashirama-and-Madara caliber."
He'd assumed, going in, that each cycle would produce fighters of world-shaking power. Titans locked in continent-splitting duels. But Senichi and Shūichi, while unquestionably the strongest of their generation, hadn't reached anywhere near that level. Strong by mortal standards. Modest by Six Paths standards.
The reincarnation cycle didn't guarantee greatness. It just guaranteed the rivalry.
Manji's gaze rested on the tablet. His thoughts floated, unexpectedly, to his own beginning.
How long had it been since he'd arrived in this world? The earliest days appeared like something that had happened to someone else. A mortal body. No chakra. No Sage Arts. No immortality. Just a confused transmigrator dropped into a primordial wasteland, trying to survive long enough to figure out the rules.
Those days had been brief. But they'd left marks that centuries of power couldn't erase.
..............
"MASTER! MASTER! I found something AMAZING!!"
A high-pitched, unmistakably excited toad voice broke the silence.
Manji looked up.
Gamamaru came bounding over the rocks toward him, considerably larger and older-looking than the last time Manji had paid close attention. Which, admittedly, had been a while.
The future Great Toad Sage had been keeping a low profile for… quite some time, actually. If he hadn't come hopping over on his own initiative, Manji might have gone another decade without remembering he existed.
Poor Gamamaru. The eternal crown prince. He'd been designated as Mount Myōboku's next-in-line the day Manji took the throne, and he'd held that title for centuries now. The longest-serving heir apparent in the history of any organization, anywhere, ever.
Most people would've cracked under that kind of indefinite waiting. Plotted. Complained. Dropped hints about retirement plans. Gamamaru hadn't uttered a single word of protest in all those hundreds of years.
"Gamamaru. What is it?"
"Master, I found something incredible! You HAVE to come see!"
Gamamaru was almost vibrating, his old toad body bouncing with a childlike enthusiasm which was impossible not to find endearing.
Whatever had gotten him this worked up had to be genuinely unusual. Gamamaru possessed the gift of prophetic dreams. His perspective on what qualified as "interesting" operated on a fundamentally different scale than most people's. If he was excited, it meant something.
"Alright. Show me."
Manji followed the bouncing toad toward the peak where Gamamaru lived.
Inside the dwelling, Manji looked around. Sparse. A kettle. A fire pit. Not much else.
Gamamaru hopped to the fireplace, positioned himself next to the boiling kettle, and turned to Manji with an expression of just contained glee.
"Master. Watch this. I noticed that the steam coming off boiling water… it can actually push things."
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