Minato with a Gacha

[MC's POV]

I yawned, stretched, and leaned back in my chair, the usual hum of the office almost soothing now that everyone else had left. The clock on my desktop glowed in the dim light—2:36 a.m. Another late night, another project with impossible deadlines. Just a normal Tuesday, as always.

I absentmindedly rubbed my neck, trying to ward off the dull ache that had settled there hours ago. For the thousandth time, I wondered why I still pushed myself through this grind. I was just another cog in the machine, following orders, doing the work, hoping someday it would mean something.

The screen dimmed slightly, then flickered. My fingers stilled on the keyboard. Just a glitch, probably. I clicked a few keys to wake it back up, but the flickering continued, getting faster and faster until—

A soft ping sounded.

My screen went blank, and a window popped up. Black background, white text. Plain, almost eerie in its simplicity. It read:

"Make a Wish"

What the...?

It looked like one of those cheesy chain messages from the early days of the internet, with blocky letters and an unsettling lack of polish. The words lingered on the screen, followed by a faint question:

"What do you truly want from life?"

I blinked, tired eyes not quite processing the message. I glanced around the empty office, half-expecting to see a coworker peeking over a cubicle, pulling some kind of prank. But it was just me, and the message stayed there, patient and waiting.

With a weary chuckle, I decided to play along. Why not? Maybe a little distraction was just what I needed.

I typed, fingers still hesitant, choosing each word carefully:

"I want to be a leader, not just a follower. I want a life that's... full of adventure."

A tiny spark of hope flickered in me, even though I knew it was stupid. I hit "Enter," waiting for the inevitable laughable response, maybe some poorly generated motivational quote or a pop-up ad.

But what I got was silence.

The screen stayed dark. The whole office suddenly felt colder, almost... otherworldly. The fluorescent lights buzzed above, like a hundred flies circling overhead, louder than they'd ever sounded before.

Then my screen flickered again, the text disappearing and reappearing as if shifting between worlds. But the message was different this time.

"Your wish... will be granted."

A chill ran down my spine, prickling every hair on my arms. I sat back, suddenly very awake. The screen went black again, and just as I thought the power had cut out, an image started to bleed through the darkness.

An eye—a single, crimson eye, slit like a serpent's, stared out at me. Its gaze felt like a weight on my chest, pressing down, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

The office lights dimmed, as if responding to the malevolent energy crawling out of my screen. I couldn't look away. The eye felt alive, pulsating with a rhythm that didn't belong in this world. It blinked, and in that split second of darkness, I could almost see... claws? A twisted figure looming just outside the light?

My head started pounding. Everything seemed off, twisted, stretched beyond reality. Shadows in the corners of the room writhed like they were alive, stretching long fingers toward me.

Was I... hallucinating?

The shadows grew darker, thicker, oozing along the floor toward my desk. I scrambled back, nearly knocking my chair over as the darkness closed in. I was frozen, heart thundering as the office transformed before my eyes, shapes twisting, walls warping. The shadows began to crawl up my legs, cold as ice, numbing me to my core.

A voice echoed in my head—low, guttural, as if it came from beyond the veil of reality itself.

"Are you ready for your wish, mortal?"

The words struck like a hammer, reverberating in my skull. I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't come. Every sound, every flickering shadow, every movement felt wrong—unnatural.

My body convulsed. The room spun, faster and faster until my vision blurred, streaks of light and darkness merging together in a horrifying dance. My chest tightened, breath caught as if a pair of invisible hands was squeezing the life out of me.

Then, suddenly, it stopped.

Everything went still. A heavy silence fell, broken only by the faint thump of my heart, echoing in my ears.

[3rd person POV]

A blood-red moon hung over Konohagakure, casting an eerie glow over the village as chaos raged below. The Nine-Tailed Fox—Kurama—towered over the destruction, its massive, blazing form radiating fury. Buildings lay crushed, flames licking the night sky as villagers screamed and scattered in every direction. For Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, each second stretched into eternity as he raced to save his home and his family.

Beside him stood Kushina Uzumaki, his beloved wife, weakened but resolute. Her face was pale, her breathing labored, yet her eyes burned with unyielding determination. Despite her injuries, she clung to the last remnants of her strength, sealing chains wrapped around her fingers, struggling to keep Kurama at bay.

"Minato…" she rasped, her voice barely a whisper. "You know… what we have to do."

Minato nodded, his jaw clenched. He knew the choice he was about to make—a choice that went beyond even his role as Hokage. For the village to survive, for his son Naruto to have a future, this was the only path.

"I'm ready," he murmured, casting a lingering look at Naruto, who lay wrapped in blankets on the stone altar nearby, crying in the night air. His heart ached, torn between duty and the desperation to hold his son one last time.

Without another word, Minato raised his hands, summoning chakra from deep within himself. An ominous, ethereal wind swirled around him, flickering like ghostly fire as he prepared to perform the Dead Demon Consuming Seal. The air grew thick and heavy, filled with an unnatural chill as he summoned the Shinigami, the Death God.

Behind him, Kushina tightened her chains around Kurama, wincing as her chakra faded, but refusing to let go. With each second, the massive fox roared and struggled, its clawed limbs thrashing wildly. Yet even in her weakened state, Kushina's chakra chains held firm.

The Shinigami appeared, a shadowy figure wrapped in robes that rippled like smoke, its face obscured behind a ghastly mask. Its skeletal hands extended toward Minato, ready to claim his soul in exchange for the power he sought. Even as he met the Shinigami's hollow gaze, Minato felt a shudder run through him. This was no mere jutsu—this was a ritual older than any he'd ever dared attempt, a binding pact with death itself.

Steeling himself, Minato began to chant, feeling the Shinigami's presence bind itself to his spirit. Dark, cold energy twisted through his veins as he forced himself to continue.

"In the name of life… I sacrifice myself for my village, for my son…"

The Shinigami's hand moved forward, sinking into Minato's chest, as a strange burning sensation flooded his body. His vision dimmed, the life slowly draining from his limbs as the demon's hand began to reach toward Kurama. The Nine-Tails, sensing its impending doom, let out an earth-shaking roar, red chakra swirling wildly as it fought against its fate.

Summoning the last of his strength, Minato focused on dividing the beast's chakra. With a final, determined shout, he forced Kurama's power apart: half of the nine-tailed chakra flowed into Naruto's small, vulnerable form, while the remaining half surged back toward Kushina, sealing the beast's raw power back into her body, even though he knew that even this wont be enough to keep her alive as she has passes her limit long ago. Even her breathing was a miracle.

It was done. Kurama's ferocious strength faded, the beast's energy locked away in two vessels.

But Minato knew his time was nearly up. The Shinigami loomed closer, ready to consume his soul. He prepared himself for the inevitable, for the eternal fate he had consigned himself to.

Yet a thought burned at the edge of his mind—a forbidden jutsu he had only theorized in his final hours. It was a technique no one had ever dared attempt, a method of restoring life by binding not only spirit, but flesh. But to pull it off, he would need to surrender everything—body, soul, every last remnant of himself.

With a last, desperate resolve, he performed the final seals, his fingers trembling as he whispered, "This is my final gift… Kushina."

The chakra coiled through him like a torrent, his spirit binding with the very fibers of his body. Energy poured from him into Kushina, who gasped as the glow of healing chakra washed over her. She clutched at her chest as her injuries began to close, her strength renewed, her life restored.

"Minato… No…" she choked, realizing what he'd done. "You can't—!"

But Minato simply smiled, his hand reaching out to gently touch her cheek. "Live… for Naruto," he whispered. And with that, his body crumbled, his spirit beginning to drift as the Shinigami's claws drew him fully into its grasp.

The Shinigami's laughter echoed in the silence, a low, hollow sound that resonated through the night. Its clawed hands clutched Minato's soul, yet… something changed. The spectral figure paused, its eyeless gaze tilting as if in curiosity. Instead of simply taking Minato's soul, it seemed to shift, focusing on his form with an almost insidious interest.

And then, in a move none would have foreseen, the Shinigami reached into Minato's chest again, this time sinking claws into his very body, merging its essence with the flesh it had been offered.

The village lay silent, unaware of the grim transformation unfolding in the darkness. The night grew colder, the shadows deepening as the Shinigami withdrew, taking Minato's spirit with it—yet leaving behind an altered husk.

Minato's body lay still, his face frozen in a serene expression. But his body was no longer his own. The Shinigami had twisted and claimed it, merging its essence with his, leaving behind a vessel to house… something else.

The silence broke as Kushina, with a strangled gasp, stumbled to her feet, heartbroken yet alive. She gathered Naruto into her arms, a tear falling as she kissed her son's forehead, the weight of her husband's sacrifice crushing her.

"Goodbye, Minato…" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Hours passed. The battle was over, the village beginning to recover from the night's devastation. Yet deep within Minato's empty body, something stirred.

A faint spark of consciousness began to flicker, an unfamiliar essence waking within the form left behind. Thoughts surged to life, confused, unfamiliar. A foreign awareness flooded the empty mind as memories of another life drifted to the surface.

Where am I?

The consciousness wrestled to gain control, its awareness sharpening as it adapted to the strange body it now inhabited. Fingers twitched, breath stirred, and eyes slowly opened. The world came into focus—a world full of vibrant colors and unfamiliar sensations.

He—the newcomer—looked around, dazed and disoriented, as fragments of memory and instinct began to merge. This was… not the world he knew.

Yet the face he saw reflected on the nearby surface—a face with golden hair and piercing blue eyes, lined with the tell-tale marks of the Fourth Hokage—was his.

And somewhere deep within, a faint, almost mocking whisper lingered.

"Your wish has been granted."

The man, now in Minato's form, took his first step, absorbing the reality of his new world. And a slow, determined realization began to grow within him.

This was only the beginning.