Cherreads

The Storm That Approaches

Alex_3111
35
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 35 chs / week.
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NOT RATINGS
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Synopsis
This is a side hobby of mine, the results of which I would like to share. I'll add more chapters as I go. ------------------------------------------------------------------ A storm approaches—not of wind and rain, but of destiny. Shorai, a child born of fire and forgotten fate, arrives in Konoha on the night of the Nine-Tails' attack. An orphan with no lineage, he hides a power beyond chakra: the Reality Stone, a foreign force that bends existence itself. As he unlocks his inherit potential , forges bonds, and walks the razor’s edge between genius and exposure, Shorai’s journey rewrites the future. But in a world of shadows and secrets, can a harbinger control the storm he was born to unleash?
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Chapter 1 - 01: Prologue - A Harbinger’s Arrival

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Deep within the Hokage Residence, the chakra monitors stood vigilant, as an air of unease spread around the room. Outside, the storm raged—lightning slicing the sky, thunder rolling like distant drums. Yet beneath the tempest's roar, the air crackled with a different energy—a faint, unsettling ripple of chakra far beyond the village's edge, like a whisper of danger carried on the wind.

"Chakra disturbance detected," a sensor operator called out. "Two faint signatures… one's a child. Five others—Kumo-nin. All… disappeared."

"Confirmed," another replied, eyes fixed on the rippling chakra readings. "Ambush. No survivors. The child remains alive."

Hiruzen Sarutobi, already on high alert from the Nine-Tails' attack, paused briefly before issuing a single, decisive order:

"Send an ANBU squad. Retrieve the child. No engagement—extraction only. They are needed here!"

Minutes later, the ANBU arrived at the wreckage—a shattered caravan near the northern border. Rain fell hard, masking the blood and churned earth beneath their feet. Beneath the ruins, a woman lay dying, her breath shallow and frost-laced, her body pierced by fatal wounds.

Clutched to her chest, wrapped in blood-stained cloth, was a newborn boy—his eyes wide open, silent, reflecting the storm's fury.

She turned her head, strength fading.

"Take… him…"

An ANBU operative—drawn by the faint distress signal from nearby chakra sensors—knelt beside her.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" the woman's voice trembled.

"H-his name… is… Shōrai."

"Shōrai?"

"Not 'future'… but 'the one who brings it.'"

She closed her eyes.

And was still.

The ANBU agent hesitated, heart heavy, then gently lifted the child. No one noticed the faint shimmer beneath his skin—the air briefly distorting, as if reality itself bent around him, before settling back into calm.

He was taken to Konoha, registered as a war orphan.

No records. No lineage.

In nursery his crib stood beside another boy—blonde, whiskered, screaming into the night.

Two orphans. 

One born of fire and fate. 

The other a harbinger of what is to come.