Naruto: Eternal

The great throne room was silent—silent not in emptiness, but in reverence.

The hall stretched far and wide, its walls glistening with a silver light that shifted and pulsed as though alive.

Pillars carved from materials beyond mortal comprehension held the ceiling aloft, where the constellations themselves seemed to swirl in mimicry of the vast expanse of the universe.

It was not a creation of stone or wood, but of existence shaped by hands long forgotten by the world outside.

At the far end of the room stood the throne.

It was vast, carved as though from a single piece of reality itself, its form elusive, shifting between crystalline and shadow.

And yet, what truly was different to those who entered was its positioning—it faced away from the hall, turned toward a great, seamless window that stretched infinitely outward, revealing the endless sky, the void of stars, and the whispering cosmos.

The one who sat upon it, the leader of the Eienno Clan, was hidden.

Hidden from all who dared to look.

For their face, their true visage, was not meant for mortal perception.

Today, a single figure approached the throne—the Herald.

The sound of their footfalls echoed softly, though the air remained heavy with an unseen pressure.

The Herald, for all their inhuman beauty and power, moved with humility.

Their eyes—those mesmerizing galaxies with light at their center—were lowered, their regal robes trailing behind them like flowing starlight.

Kneeling before the throne, the Herald spoke, their voice soft but unwavering. "The leaders of Humanity have arrived."

No answer came from the throne for a while, but the air itself seemed to shift.

The weight grew heavier, as if the universe itself paused to listen.

Around the throne room, other members of the Eienno clan stood in quiet observation.

Unlike the Herald, they bore a different presence—more alien, more unfathomable.

Their beauty was wrong in a way that defied words.

While the Herald could be mistaken for divine humans, these others were something far removed—expressions of existence, flesh made into shapes that only resembled "life" by cruel coincidence.

Their forms twisted subtly, skin adorned with shimmering patterns, their existence foggy to even the Herald as they existed beyond his perception.

They were the direct descendants of the first generation, the bearers of the "true" bloodline.

The "Herald" as was the name of their subdivision , for all their grace, was less—a being who failed to inherit the clan's godly essence, a pale shadow of what the Eienno were.

They existed as an extreme case of human potential, their beauty and their power unmatched by humanity, but far beneath the main line.

Even their "eyes," with their simulated stars and galaxies, were mere imitations—cheap knockoffs of the transcendent vision possessed by those of the pure bloodline.

But below even them, the beasts lurked.

Once, they were kin.

Members of the Eienno who could not withstand the burden of the blood they were gifted, their sanity shattered, their bodies twisted, until they became manifestations of nature itself—creatures of primal instinct, of overwhelming power.

They fled the land of the Eienno long ago, scattering across the world.

Humans, ignorant of their true origins, came to summon them in times of need, binding them to Summoning contracts, unaware that these "summons" were echoes of a broken branch of the clan.

All of this, and more, was the doing of the Progenitor.

He who is Eternal.

The history of the Eienno clan was carved into the walls of time itself, passed down through generations like whispers from the void.

The Progenitor had been born millions of years ago as a force—a newborn who consumed the lives of his kin at the moment of his birth.

It was written that his frail infant body had been unbound by the limits of mortality, absorbing and decaying all nature around him.

As he grew, he became more than mortal.

He taught language to humanity as language did not exist before him.

He shaped communities where none could thrive.

He turned his eyes to the heavens, stepping beyond the stars, until at last, he transcended existence itself.

And yet, for all his power, he despaired.

Looking back upon his mortal kin, so weak, so fragile, he sought to elevate them.

From his flesh, they were fed.

From his blood, they bathed, suffering pain beyond measure as their very beings were reshaped.

Of the countless who attempted this ascension, only ten survived.

The First Generation.

They became the roots of the Eienno clan—immortal, untouchable, eternal.

They inherited fragments of the Progenitor's limitless nature, each a god among men, their bloodline carrying power unlike any the world had ever seen.

But the Progenitor's ambition came at a cost.

For as the blood spread across generations, cracks formed—failures like the beasts, or shadows like the Heralds.

Even so, they served their purpose.

For the Eienno did not interfere with the world they claimed as their own.

They merely observed, ruling from a throne unseen, with humanity as tenants on borrowed land.

--

Soon after the creation of civilization and birth of the first generation.

The Progenitor of the Eienno Clan, after ruling for millennia, made a decision that would forever perplex his people.

Though his power was beyond comprehension, he sought to create a system to ensure that his essence and influence would not unravel the very fabric of the universe as it had been doing for the past centuries.

In his infinite wisdom, he decided to create the Cosmic Flow, a river born from the pond of blood he had created centuries earlier.

This river was no ordinary stream; it carried the very essence of the Eienno, pulsating with the power of the people.

It flowed through the heart of the Land of Gods, spreading its reach like a web, deep beneath the land, connecting all the corners of their domain.

It was a river of transition as the Progenitor used it to pass on his essence to the strongest of the first generation.

Once a clan leader completed thier time and passed from their physical form, they did not die in the conventional sense.

As it was impossible for them to die.

Instead, their body was consumed by the Cosmic Flow, merging with the river's boundless power.

The energy of the "deceased" leader would pass into the current, and from that same current, the next leader would rise.

The process was simple, yet profound. When a new clan leader was to be chosen, an Eienno would take a bath in the river, immersing themselves in the Cosmic Flow.

In doing so, they would receive the full measure of power, knowledge, and wisdom that had accumulated through the ages, becoming the new vessel for the Clan leader's essence.

This act transformed the Eienno, elevating them to the position of clan leader.

Despite the passing of the mantle every fifty years, the Progenitor's power could never be surpassed.

Even though the new leader emerged with all the accumulated knowledge and strength of the Eienno that came before them, they were never the true equal of the Progenitor.

The Progenitor's presence remained in the very fabric of the Eienno, influencing their leadership and guiding their people with an eternal, unseen hand.

This system of rebirth ensured that the Eienno Clan was never led by one singular entity for too long, preventing any one leader from growing so powerful that it would become impossible for their physical form to exist.

Basically the Progenitor was wo strong that he had to change reality to allow his physical existence due to his love for his kin.

Similarly a Clan leader would be unable to exist if he becomes too strong and might break reality if not excessively careful.

The Cosmic Flow, therefore, became both a lifeline and a safeguard—flowing eternally through the land, keeping the Eienno in check, maintaining the immortality of their brethren, and preserving the delicate equilibrium between the Eienno and the world.

Thus, the Eienno lived on, bound to their land, to the flow of the river, and to the will of their progenitor.

While they could never truly die, they were eternally bound to the flow of power.

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Stones and Reviews please