NARUTO: The Saga of Crimson Monarch

Hans's death marked the end of an era and the beginning of a revelation that would reshape my life forever. The man I had always known as my mentor, my father in all but blood, was more than I had ever imagined. He wasn't just a retired soldier or a man who spoke in riddles about discipline and sacrifice. Hans had lived a life shrouded in secrecy, bound by loyalty to an invisible empire.

It began with a hidden compartment in his study. Among the ordinary belongings—a dusty globe, faded books, and old photographs—was an intricately concealed drawer. Inside, I found encrypted documents, maps, and a journal detailing a world I never knew existed. Hans wasn't merely a man; he had been one of The Holders, a clandestine organization that had quietly steered the tides of history for centuries. They called themselves architects of fate, shadow rulers of a chaotic world. And Hans, the quiet, steadfast man who raised me, had been one of their most revered leaders.

I remembered the men in black suits who stood silently at his funeral, a solemn sea of power and reverence. Their words still echoed in my mind: "He was a man to be respected, a master to us all." At the time, I hadn't understood their meaning. Now, I did. Hans had been the cornerstone of this shadowy organization, his influence unparalleled.

And i joined The Holders and passed their impossible trials, carving my own place in the organization.

At seventeen, I stood on my first battlefield—a child soldier amidst the chaos of war. The scorching heat of Afghanistan burned into my skin, and the air trembled with the sound of gunfire and the thunder of bombs. Innocence was a luxury none of us could afford. Each day was a battle for survival, and each mission tested the limits of my resolve.

From the deserts of the Middle East to the frostbitten tundras of Russia, from the sprawling cities of China to the shadowed corridors of power in America, I fought. Every assignment was a story, written in blood and sacrifice. I became a witness to humanity's darkest moments and a participant in its cruelest conflicts.

I wasn't alone. My companions were warriors forged in the crucible of battle—fearless, resolute, and unyielding. I saw them fall one by one, their laughter silenced, their strength spent in the name of a cause greater than any of us. Their bravery haunted me, a stark reminder of the cost of the life we had chosen.

Years passed, and I rose through the ranks, surpassing even Hans in skill and influence. The impossible became my reality, and I earned a title that hadn't existed before: The Founder. It was a name that echoed through the annals of our secret world, marking me as a figure of reverence and authority. I became the leader, the monarch of an invisible empire that spanned continents and controlled destinies.

Despite the power and respect I commanded, I chose to remain alone. My fleeting romances were nothing compared to the weight of my responsibilities. Instead, I poured my heart into creating orphanages. For every life lost in the shadows, I sought to save another, giving children like me a chance to grow in safety and hope. Each orphanage was a monument to those I had fought beside and a legacy of the man who raised me.

I lived a life of excitement, danger, and purpose. When my time finally came, I was not afraid. I had fulfilled Hans's wish, and mine as well. I died as an old man, not on a battlefield but in peace, surrounded by the memories of a life well-lived.

The legacy of The Founder lived on in the hearts of those I saved, in the warriors I inspired, and in the shadows of an organization that would continue to shape the world. And as I closed my eyes for the final time, I could almost see Hans, his proud smile welcoming me into the next great adventure.

The void was silent, endless, and oppressive. Yet, in its depths, I stood unwavering, my presence cutting through the stillness like a blade. I was no mere soul drifting in eternity; I was Ares Vasiliev, a warrior whose will had turned tides of war and whose shadow had loomed over empires. I was more than a man—I was a force. Where others would have faltered, crushed by the weight of the unknown, I thrived. For I was the monarch of my own destiny, the ruler of all that dared to challenge me.

The air in the void shifted, crackling with energy, as a radiant being appeared before me. Its form was cloaked in an aura of light so pure and overwhelming that it seemed to banish the darkness itself. But I did not kneel. I did not bow. My gaze met its with the cold, unyielding intensity of a sovereign who bowed to no one—not gods, not fate, not even death itself.

"Ares," the being spoke, its voice an orchestra of echoes, filled with power and omniscience. "Your journey in the mortal realm has ended. Yet your soul burns with a fire that refuses to be extinguished. Why do you linger? What is it you desire?"

Desire? No. I did not desire—I demanded.

"I seek not rest, nor release," I declared, my voice low and commanding. "My will is eternal, and my purpose remains unfulfilled. I demand another life, another battlefield. This void will not be my grave."

The being regarded me with curiosity, its light pulsing with subtle amusement. "Your soul carries the weight of countless battles, of triumphs and failures alike. And yet, you remain unbroken. Why do you refuse peace?"

"Peace is an illusion," I said, my voice cutting through the void like a blade. "A dream for the weak who fear the trials of life. I am a warrior, forged in chaos, sharpened by struggle. Peace holds no meaning for one who was born to conquer."

The being's gaze bore into me, seeking cracks in the armor of my resolve. But it found none. I was unyielding, an iron fortress impervious to doubt. Hans's voice resonated within me, a lesson etched into my very being: 'Strength isn't the absence of fear; it's the refusal to let fear rule you. The world will try to bend you, but only the unbroken can rule.'

"And if I were to grant you this life, where would you go?" the being asked.

"To a world of shadows and war," I said, my tone imperious. "A world where power reigns supreme, where kings are forged in blood and fire. A world worthy of my dominion."

The being moved its hand, and a sphere of light materialized, radiating with untold power. "Then you shall be reborn in the world of Naruto," it proclaimed.

Naruto. A land of shinobi, of clans wreathed in secrecy, and of conflicts that shaped the very fabric of its existence. A world of shadows, where strength dictated survival. A battlefield that called to the monarch in me.

"What era will I enter?" I demanded.

"Three thousand years before the birth of Uchiha Tajima," the being replied, its tone steady and final.

A forgotten time. A blank slate where I could rise unchallenged, where the foundations of this world's future would be built beneath my rule. My lips curled into a shadowed smile.

"But I will not accept this life on simple terms," I said, stepping closer, my voice a commanding force. "If I am to walk this new path, I will walk it for fifteen thousand years. Grant me this span of time, and afterward, do with my soul as you will. Until then, the shadows of this world will bow to me."

The being's light dimmed, as though acknowledging the gravity of my demand. "Fifteen thousand years is a long time to walk a land as a man. Do you understand the trials that await you?"

I stood tall, my shadow stretching long against the radiant glow. "Trials are the crucible of a monarch," I said coldly. "Let them come. I will bend this world to my will, as I have bent every challenge before me. I am not merely a warrior—I am a ruler of the unseen, a monarch of the shadows."

The Founder of Darkness:

"I am the shadow that guards the light, the unseen force between the world and its end. My name shall never be known, but my will shall protect, forever standing in the dark to save what others cannot see."