The sun crested over the mountains beyond Konoha, casting golden hues across the still-developing village. In the heart of the village, the monument stones bearing the faces of only two Hokage—Hashirama Senju and his recently appointed successor-in-training Tobirama—stood as a silent testament to the era's youth. Yet behind this façade of peace and order, hidden movements stirred like serpents in the grass.
Muzan Kibutsuji stood atop a narrow cliff overlooking the village. The early morning winds teased his flowing dark haori, its red lining fluttering like embers around him. Crimson eyes narrowed, calculating. The chakra in this world was powerful—rich and ancient. But more importantly, the people wielding it were dangerously capable. Still, Muzan was no ordinary man. He was the Demon King of another realm, born anew into this world, a foreign god in a shinobi's skin.
In the weeks following his encounter with Madara Uchiha and the elite shinobi council, Muzan had kept a low profile, weaving himself into the background. He had secured his place as a medical shinobi under a fabricated identity: Akahiko. His exploits during the recent border skirmish had earned him quiet recognition, but he preferred the shadows to accolades. The more eyes avoided him, the freer he moved.
Yet even now, as he walked among the people of Konoha, something irked him: the scent of something ancient. Something buried. Muzan's demonic senses detected a spiritual weight beneath the village—like slumbering roots waiting to awaken. And he had learned long ago that power often lurked beneath the surface, masked in smiles and camaraderie.
In the underground chambers of the Medical Corps, Muzan silently worked among other shinobi medics, tending to wounds from training accidents and low-tier missions. Most saw him as quiet, observant, even brilliant—but his true genius was in what they did not see. He was gathering data. Learning how chakra interacted with physical wounds. How kekkei genkai influenced regeneration. How bloodlines could be traced and manipulated.
The seed of his ambition had begun to bloom.
"Akahiko," a voice called from behind.
Muzan turned slowly to see Kagami Uchiha, a young prodigy of the Uchiha clan. His Sharingan had not yet awakened, but his aptitude and character were respected among the village elite. Kagami was one of the few shinobi trusted by both Tobirama and the war council.
"Lord Tobirama wishes to see you in the Tower. Now."
Muzan offered a slight nod, concealing the annoyance that flickered beneath his composed expression. Another summons. Another opportunity to observe.
---
The Hokage Tower, though smaller than in future years, pulsed with a sense of command. Tobirama Senju stood with his arms crossed, clad in blue armor, his gaze sharp like steel. Around him stood several shinobi—Kagami, Danzo Shimura, Homura Mitokado, and a younger Hiruzen Sarutobi.
"Akahiko," Tobirama began, motioning him forward, "Your analysis of the borderland toxin was impressive. No doubt your medical insight will be vital in what's coming."
Muzan tilted his head. "May I inquire what the threat is, Lord Tobirama?"
Hiruzen stepped forward. "There's unrest near the Land of Rivers. Rogue shinobi—former mercenaries from the Warring States—are gathering under a strange banner. Reports mention... mutations. Shinobi with unnatural strength and resilience."
Mutations. Muzan's eyes gleamed behind a veneer of concern. "Then I'll go and observe firsthand. If I may be granted a squad, I can learn more about this phenomenon."
Tobirama raised a brow. "We already assigned a unit. You'll accompany them."
Muzan bowed. "As you command."
He turned to leave, only to be stopped by a piercing voice.
"I'm leading that unit," Danzo spoke, stepping forward. "Stay out of the way."
Muzan met Danzo's gaze for a brief second. The demon in him flared. Arrogance. Insecurity. Ambition. All too easy to read.
"Of course, Danzo-sama."
---
Days later, the squad ventured beyond the village borders. Muzan observed them all—Danzo, Kagami, a female sensor named Naeko, and a Hyuga prodigy named Akira. The group moved swiftly through forest terrain, shadows trailing under the trees.
The first encounter came at nightfall.
They were ambushed by five rogue shinobi—bulky, snarling, their skin pale and bruised, veins pulsing unnaturally. Muzan narrowed his eyes. These weren't mere shinobi—they'd been altered.
Naeko's scream pierced the night as a clawed hand slashed through her flank. Kagami's kunai flashed, and his chakra flared in a display of Uchiha precision, striking the enemy cleanly. Danzo fought with ferocity, but Muzan… watched.
He let the fight unfold. He observed the attackers' healing, their rage, the way their cells twisted when wounded.
They were like failed prototypes.
And it made sense. Somewhere in this world, someone was experimenting. Perhaps a remnant from the Sage's teachings, or someone discovering forbidden jutsu that allowed cellular manipulation.
When the fight ended—with Danzo limping, Naeko unconscious, and three of the attackers dead—Muzan moved in. He collected blood. Tissue. Bone fragments. No one noticed. Not yet.
Back at the village, the mission was labeled a success. But Muzan knew better.
---
Late at night, beneath the medical chambers in a hidden cavern he'd excavated with Earth Release scrolls stolen from a careless Chuunin, Muzan performed his tests. The blood of the mutated shinobi responded to his cells. They resisted decay, attempted to consume him—like parasites—but failed.
With a single drop of his own demonic essence, he overpowered them. Purified them.
And in that moment, Muzan laughed.
This world had given him chakra, shinobi, and bloodlines. But now, it had given him something more: a new race of subordinates. The perfect fusion of chakra and his own demonic legacy.
---
In the shadows of the Uchiha compound, Kagami stared at the crescent moon. Something about Akahiko unsettled him. He had seen the way the rogue shinobi's bodies withered after Muzan touched them. Too convenient. Too… clean.
"Kagami," Tobirama's voice called from the shadows, "I need you to watch him. Quietly. Report anything suspicious."
Kagami's eyes hardened. "I suspected you'd ask."
---
Meanwhile, Muzan stared at a sealed container hidden beneath the floor of his lab. Inside, the first successful hybrid sat in a slumber. A child, no older than thirteen, with pale skin, black sclera, and red irises glowing faintly.
He called her Yurei, the Crimson Lotus.
And she would be his harbinger.
The flower had bloomed in the shadows of Konoha. The question was not if it would spread, but when.