Naruto: Chronicles of the Lost Library

Naruto had stopped giving a damn how many godforsaken halls he'd walked through. Every corridor looked older, darker, and more pissed off than the last. Like the whole place was sick of his footsteps.

The stone pillars leaned like drunk soldiers. The air thrummed with leftover chakra—like the corpse of a dead god still twitching in its grave.

He found the door by accident.

It wasn't sealed with jutsu or glowing with some epic ancient crap. It was just half-broken, crooked, hanging like some idiot's busted jaw after a bad fight.

He walked in.

Only two things were inside.

A burned-out wooden box.

And a memory orb pulsing weakly.

Naruto didn't touch either. Not yet.

He just stood there, staring. His heart thudded in his chest like it was punching its way out. His head buzzed, loud and messy.

Then he crouched and grabbed the box.

No explosion. No seal trap. Just old wood and ash.

Inside was a scroll. Folded. Cracked at the edges.

Barely readable.

The seal mark? K.Z.

Kazuki again.

Naruto unrolled it, expecting some holy message. Some secret.

What he got was a mess of jagged handwriting—sloppy, pissed, rushed like someone had written it with bleeding fingers and a death wish.

If you're reading this, congratulations. You're either too stubborn to quit, too dumb to care, or both.

I'm betting both.

Naruto snorted.

"Still a bastard, huh?"

The scroll continued.

The Library feeds you pretty lies. Wraps poison in ancient wisdom and calls it enlightenment. Makes you think you're some chosen hero. You're not.

None of us were.

This place?

It's a graveyard. Not for weaklings. For people who tried. People who believed. People who burned for answers and got ashes.

You think you'll survive because you're stronger? Smarter? Got some 'special fire' in you?

Get your head out of your ass.

This place eats people like you alive and spits out bones.

No signature.

Just one final line, angry and cruel:

Turn back, or be next. Your call.

Naruto stared at the scroll.

No chakra trap. No explosion.

Just truth.

Brutal and honest.

He exhaled through his teeth and looked at the orb on the floor.

"Alright. What the hell does the next ghost wanna cry about?"

He touched it.

The orb pulsed. Dim. Then brighter.

A figure appeared.

Not Kazuki.

Someone else.

Younger.

Barely older than Naruto.

Black hair. Tired eyes. Jaw clenched like he hadn't slept in weeks.

Raian.

No armor. Just worn robes. He stood in a room like this one—except untouched, still whole. Still clean.

He spoke like he was whispering to himself.

"I thought if I got this far, it'd finally matter," Raian muttered. "That maybe there was something real at the end of all this cursed place."

He gave a short laugh.

Dead inside.

"They say this Library is sacred. A blessing. They lied. It's a maze full of corpses and riddles with no damn answers."

He looked up.

Eyes full of regret.

Not power. Not purpose.

Just grief.

"I don't know if the First Flame will save us… or burn the whole world to hell."

He went silent.

Then added, barely a whisper:

"And I honestly don't know which one I want anymore."

The orb cracked.

And shattered.

Naruto stood in the quiet.

Fists clenched.

Two men.

Kazuki — all rage and fury.

Raian — all despair and ghosts.

One screaming.

One crying.

Both broken.

Naruto muttered under his breath.

"Dead guys sure love the sound of their own voices."

He picked up the scroll again, folding it slowly.

But he couldn't lie to himself.

Not now.

They weren't full of shit.

They were just done.

And if he wasn't careful… he would be next.