Naruto: Bored God

The silence in the throne room was absolute, a void that seemed to stretch beyond time itself.

Miko the herald responsible for The Leaders of humanity stood at the edge of the throne's shadow, his head bowed in reverence, trying to steady his breath.

Even though the clan leader's throne remained turned away, their presence weighed down like the hand of eternity itself.

"The leaders of Humanity have arrived" Miko's voice wavered slightly.

For a moment, there was nothing. No sound.

No movement.

Then, it came after what seemed like an eternity.

"Acknowledged."

The word was spoken, and yet it was not just spoken.

It was as though the very world whispered it, millions of voices reverberating through Miko's soul, shaking his existence to its core.

It echoed from the stones beneath his feet, resonated through his blood, and hummed within his mind as if reality itself bent to carry the message.

Miko's breath hitched, his body trembling involuntarily.

His fingers twitched at his sides as he clenched them into fists, desperate to ground himself.

The voice, that singular utterance of "acknowledged," was like the will of creation pressing down upon him.

His legs threatened to give way under the crushing presence that emanated from the throne.

This was the power of a clan leader nearing their tenure's end—a being so vast, so overbearing, that even existence struggled to bear their weight.

Reality was far too fragile in their presence, a thin sheet of glass trembling under immeasurable pressure.

Miko swallowed hard, his voice caught in his throat as he tried to respond. But there was no need.

The clan leader had already turned their focus elsewhere, their acknowledgment final and absolute.

With his task completed, Miko backed away slowly, keeping his head lowered, careful not to disturb the silence that followed.

As he turned, his thoughts raced, his heart still pounding.

---

In the heart of the Pure Land, where the skies bled cosmic colors and time moved like a dream, he lay sprawled across an opulent chaise.

Around him, the land thrived—millions of his successors wandered serenely, unaware of the gaze of their eternal overseer.

The Progenitor of the Eienno bloodline, the source of it all, appeared at peace.

Yet within his mind, an entirely different story played out.

Hmm? He blinked lazily, his gaze flickering as if he'd just noticed something—or someone. Voices? His thoughts sharpened, stretching across the void of the Pure Land.

Oh great, maybe I'm finally going insane.

He paused at that thought, letting it hang in the stillness of his mind before, suddenly—

"Hahaha...ha...ha."

The laughter burst out, even if no one heard it. Jagged, broken, and deeply amused.

His shoulders shook as he let it run its course.

Oh wait, he smirked inwardly. I forgot—I'm already insane.

The two radiant women beside him stirred slightly, as if feeling some shift in the air, but the Progenitor didn't bother glancing their way.

No, his thoughts had pulled him elsewhere, spiraling back through millennia of absurdity.

Honestly, what a joke. He mused silently, addressing the invisible "viewers" in his mind—the voices he'd decided were watching him now. Here I am, the one who built all of this, and I've spent the last couple million years doing absolutely nothing. And guess what? It's brilliant.

His gaze drifted lazily across the shimmering horizon of the Pure Land, where the cosmic river—the flow—wove its infinite threads beneath the surface. A beautiful deception.

Did you know, he continued in his thoughts, conversationally, that I used to work for it? Like, seriously—centuries of grueling effort, clawing my way to the top of existence. Then one day it hit me: Why bother? Why break my back when I can auto-farm my way to omnipotence?

He smiled faintly, the kind of smile reserved for someone who knows the punchline to the universe's biggest joke.

So what did I do? I came up with a grand excuse—a fifty-year tenure, cosmic river rituals, sacred decrees. Told them it was my 'will' or whatever sounded profound enough to make their heads spin. His mind laughed again, sharper this time. And they believed it. Every .Single. Fucking .one of them. No questions asked.

His thoughts turned to the countless Eienno leaders who had marched to the cosmic river, bathing in the power he'd designed for them. Reality warpers, every one of them. They could blink and rewrite existence... but they just follow the system I set up like good little sheep.

The Progenitor exhaled, feigning a wistful sigh as he glanced toward the stars that glittered above.

And here I am, lounging in paradise while they keep the machine running. You'd almost think I was a genius. Or maybe they're just stupid. Either way, I win.

He let his head tilt back against the chaise, staring into the infinite sky. But what's that saying? Ah, yes—"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." If they're happy serving a non-existent will and rule and I get to relax... Well, who am I to stop them?

For a moment, his mind quieted, but then the faintest smirk tugged at his lips.

But you're still here, aren't you? Watching. Listening. His mental voice dropped into something lower, more playful, like a secret whispered across eternity. Maybe you're judging me. Maybe you're cheering for me. I don't really care.

The Pure Land shimmered, its beauty eternal and untouched by the world outside.

Around him, the successors of his bloodline lived in blissful ignorance, oblivious to the truth that their godlike existence was nothing more than a long, cosmic joke.

The Progenitor stretched his arms lazily, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

In the end, I'm just... He paused. Ah, I forgot my name.....Embarrassing~.

He chuckled silently to himself. Not that it matters. Names, titles—those are for them.

I am Eternal.

The Progenitor shifted slightly on the chaise, the lazy glimmer of his eyes narrowing in amusement as he turned to one of the women beside him.

Without warning, he lifted his hand and spanked her playfully, the light crack of impact echoing in the serene, otherworldly air.

The woman let out a soft, amused chuckle, her laughter ringing like a pleasant chime—carefree, adoring, and entirely unbothered.

But the next moment, his eyes grew dull, and his smile faltered.

"...I'm bored."

With those words, he erased her from existence.

It wasn't dramatic or violent. She simply ceased to be—gone, as if she had never existed at all.

The space where she once lay shimmered briefly, like a ripple across water, and then stilled.

The Progenitor exhaled, not with regret, but with disinterest, as though discarding an old trinket that had lost its shine.

A few years is enough, isn't it? he mused idly to himself.

Old toys get boring.

Strangely, the other woman didn't react. Not a flinch, not even a glance at the now-empty space. Instead, she clung closer to him, her lips brushing against his neck with mechanical adoration, fingers trailing delicately along his chest.

Her eyes, soft and empty, betrayed no awareness—only unwavering devotion.

Ah, the Progenitor thought with detached amusement, letting his hand rest lazily on her back.

That's the nice thing about them.

They're so... obedient.

The Progenitor's gaze drifted lazily, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The woman still clinging to him—the perfect image of adoration and beauty—suddenly flickered, like an old, broken recording struggling to stay coherent.

Her form distorted, limbs twitching unnaturally as if reality itself couldn't quite decide what she was supposed to be.

How pitiful, he mused, unbothered by the unraveling of his own creation.

And then, without ceremony, she shattered into countless motes of light, scattering into the air like dust caught in sunlight.

Gone, like her predecessor.

No sound, no trace.

Nothing left to mourn.

The Progenitor reclined further, a low hum escaping his throat. "Hah...."

These women—these things—were nothing more than his own delusions made manifest, feeble attempts to imitate a truth he could never touch.

Like that Lovecraftian fool who dreamed existence into being, he thought with bitter amusement.

Me? I can't even entertain myself without breaking the toys I conjure up.

He tilted his head, watching where the woman had once been, his expression unreadable.

What a fucking joke. I've outgrown even my own madness.

The thought would've been enough to send a lesser man spiraling, but for him? He simply smiled, hollow and detached.

Reality, delusion—it all blurred together here in the Pure Land, a realm of his own making yet so far removed from his control.

Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.

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Stones and Reviews please