The Summoner of Legends

Weeks had passed since that night in the alley. And though everything in Naruto's life seemed to go on as usual, he couldn't ignore the truth that had been burned into his mind: something inside him had awakened. Something far greater than himself.

He had felt it, if only for a fleeting instant—a sudden spark that had saved him when he needed it most. But ever since, that sensation remained out of reach, elusive like a dream that vanishes the moment you open your eyes. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp it again.

It wasn't for lack of effort. Day after day, he had replicated every movement, every breath, every thought. He tried to recreate the same rush of adrenaline he had felt that night—the frantic pounding in his veins, the instinctive clarity as his body reacted on its own. But no matter what he did, nothing worked.

—Tch... —Naruto muttered from his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling of his room.

He was exhausted. Not physically, but with a deeper kind of exhaustion—the kind that burrows into your soul and refuses to let go. His mind was a tangled knot of unanswered questions and mounting frustration. He sat at the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.

—This isn't helping… —he murmured, exhaling a heavy sigh that seemed to drain the last of his energy.

Finally, moving slowly, mechanically, he stood up and headed for the kitchen. If he couldn't find answers, at least he could make sure his body didn't weaken. But as he opened the fridge, a wave of cold air met him, empty and stale.

Nothing.

Only a few empty containers and a chunk of ice building up at the back.

—Shit… —he growled, scowling as he shut the door with a dull thud.

He walked over to the small drawer where he kept his money. Opening it, he hoped—just maybe—there would be more than he remembered. But as he looked inside, his expression twisted into a mix of disbelief and bitterness.

A few crumpled bills and some loose coins stared back at him, a cruel mockery of his situation.

Naruto picked up the money, studying it as if it were the greatest insult in the world.

—This… isn't enough.

His voice was low, strained, and the tightness in his throat felt as heavy as the empty pit in his stomach.

The pension he had received since his parents' death was his only source of income. And now, with every cent going toward the tranquilizers he needed to keep his episodes under control, he could barely afford to eat.

He rested his elbows on the table, rubbing his temples as a dull ache began to settle in his head. The math was simple: there wasn't enough for everything. But the medication wasn't optional. Not if he wanted to sleep. Not if he wanted to keep the nightmares from devouring him again.

The nightmares.

Just thinking about them sent a shiver down his spine. Those chaotic images, that abyss of darkness that felt like a distorted reflection of his own mind, terrified him more than he was willing to admit. And worst of all, he knew that if the nightmares returned… he would lose control again.

—I'll worry about that tomorrow… —he muttered under his breath, standing up with a resigned sigh. He needed to eat something, even if it wasn't much.

Forcing himself to move, he grabbed the bills and coins, stuffed them into the pocket of his jacket, and stepped out of his apartment.

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The night was dark, and a heavy silence stretched over the streets like a suffocating blanket. There was barely any movement, save for the occasional flicker of a streetlamp struggling to stay lit. Naruto walked with his head down, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, but his eyes never stopped scanning his surroundings.

He couldn't help it. Ever since that night, his senses had been on constant alert. He didn't want to go through something like that again. Not ever.

Every sound, no matter how insignificant, made his muscles tense. The squeak of a bicycle's wheels in the distance, the whisper of the wind pushing an empty can across the pavement, the faint creak of tree branches shifting. Everything felt louder in the stillness of the night, as if the entire world were conspiring to keep him on edge.

"Stay calm," he told himself, clenching his fists inside his pockets. "Just buy what you need and go home."

The dim glow of the few stores still open barely lit his path, reflecting off the puddles left behind by the afternoon rain. The shadows of the buildings stretched across the asphalt, looming like silent figures.

Naruto tried to ignore the tightness in his chest. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the memory of that night. The mask. The knife. The way the shadows had seemed to close in around him. His breath hitched slightly, and he had to force himself to stop for a moment, inhaling deeply to steady himself.

—You're fine —he muttered under his breath, almost like a mantra—. No one's following you.

He started walking again, this time at a quicker pace. He just wanted to get this over with. But as he moved forward, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him from the darkness.

It was just paranoia. It had to be.

And yet, every fiber of his being screamed at him to stay alert.

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The chime rang as Naruto pushed open the door to the small corner store. The place was nearly empty, filled with the stale, lingering smell of old food that seemed ingrained in the very air. Behind the counter, the elderly clerk barely glanced up from his newspaper. Naruto, cautious, cast a quick look around, making sure no one had followed him. Only when he felt safe did he step further into the narrow aisles.

"As cheap as possible," he thought, scanning the shelves while his stomach growled in protest. He grabbed a couple of instant noodle cups and a few energy bars, trying to ignore the bitter emptiness gnawing at him.

When he reached the counter, he placed his items down and pulled out the little money he had left. The clerk rang up his purchase without so much as a glance, placing the food into a bag so light it almost felt like mockery.

—That'll be six forty.

Naruto paid quickly, took the bag, and left without a word. Outside, he adjusted the hood of his jacket and glanced around nervously. The streetlights flickered, and the echo of his own footsteps bounced off the pavement, blending with the distant hum of traffic.

The shadows seemed longer tonight.

—Just paranoia... —he muttered under his breath, picking up his pace—. Just paranoia...

But then, something shifted.

It was subtle at first—a faint chill that crawled up his spine, making his skin prickle. His body tensed instinctively, reacting to an unseen danger. He felt it before it happened.

The blow struck without warning.

A brutal impact to the back of his head sent him stumbling forward, and before he could react, rough hands grabbed his clothes and hurled him violently into a dark alley.

—Not again! —Naruto gasped, his voice cracking as his back hit the ground.

The cold, damp pavement knocked the air from his lungs, and the world spun as he tried to push himself up. But he didn't get the chance.

A foot slammed into his stomach, forcing a strangled cry from his lips. Pain shot through him like lightning, leaving him writhing.

—Told you we'd meet again, kid. —The deep, hate-filled voice echoed through the alley like thunder.

Naruto lifted his head with effort. There they were. The men from the alley. Their faces were cloaked in shadow, but their intent was as clear as the sadistic gleam in their eyes.

He tried to get up, but a punch to his back sent him crashing down again.

—You caught us off guard last time —one of them sneered, kicking him hard—. But that won't happen again.

Then came the laughter. Cruel, mocking, dripping with twisted satisfaction.

The blows rained down—punches, kicks, searing impacts that burned against his skin. Naruto barely had time to curl in on himself, shielding his head with his arms in a desperate attempt to protect himself.

—Look at the little boy! Curling up like a scared little rat! —one of the attackers mocked, laughing as he drove a kick into Naruto's ribs.

—Where's your power now, huh? —another spat, sneering as he spit near Naruto's face.

Each blow was like a hammer strike, shattering his resistance. His body trembled, weakened by the pain. And even though his mind screamed at him to get up, to fight, his body refused to respond.

"No! Defend yourself, damn it!" he thought desperately, his teeth clenched as he felt the warmth of his own blood beginning to stain his skin.

A particularly vicious kick sent him rolling onto his side, wrenching a strangled gasp from his throat. He was at his limit.

—What were you even trying to do, huh? —the leader's voice cut through the laughter, dripping with venom—. This lesson is one you'll take to your grave, kid.

Naruto forced his eyes open, struggling to focus. His blurred vision caught a metallic glint—a switchblade.

Fear wrapped around him like an icy fog.

—No... —he whispered weakly, barely a breath. "Not here... not now..."

Two sets of hands grabbed him, forcing him onto his back. He tried to resist, but there was nothing left in him. The blade hovered over him, cold and merciless, and the attacker's face twisted into a mask of sick satisfaction.

—Don't go looking for trouble if you're too weak to handle it, idiot.

And then it came.

The first stab.

Pain tore through him like lightning, ripping a scream from his throat that echoed through the alley.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five times.

Each thrust was molten iron sinking into his stomach, tearing through flesh and crushing what little strength remained in him. Blood surged forth, hot and sticky, soaking his clothes and spilling onto the pavement in an unstoppable tide.

By the time the attacker finally stopped, Naruto could barely breathe. His vision blurred, his body a dead weight against the ground. Then, the handle of the blade struck his forehead, sending fresh agony crashing through him. He felt the blood trickle down, covering his right eye.

The laughter faded, followed by the echo of retreating footsteps.

Naruto lay there, unmoving, his breathing weak and ragged. "No... not like this..." he thought, clinging desperately to the last threads of consciousness.

The vast hall flashed through his mind.

The gleaming marble.

The radiant stained glass.

The immortal warriors watching him with solemn expectation.

—No... —he murmured with the last of his strength, his tears mixing with the blood—. I can't give up yet!

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Darkness tried to consume him, but something inside him clung to the light. That place—the marble palace with its towering stained glass—shone in his mind like a beacon in the middle of a storm.

It wasn't just a memory. It was more than that.

It was a call.

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The darkness began to unravel.

Suddenly, his mind was wrenched from his broken body, pulled into another reality as if an invisible thread were yanking him through an endless abyss.

Naruto's eyes snapped open. He was standing—unharmed—within the vast hall he had visited before.

The marble beneath his feet gleamed with an icy glow, and the immense stained glass window shimmered with an eerie light, as if an unseen moon were illuminating it from beyond. Everything looked the same as last time—imposing, majestic... but also different. More oppressive. More alive.

He glanced down at his hands, frowning.

Clean. No blood. No wounds.

—Here again...? —he murmured, his voice echoing endlessly into the vastness of the hall.

His breathing was ragged, but it slowly began to steady. There was something about this place that always managed to soothe him, as if the problems of the outside world had no right to exist here. Yet this time, something felt different. A cold presence wrapped around him.

Like invisible eyes watching him from every direction.

He took a step forward, and the echo of his boots rang out, bouncing off the endless walls.

—Hey! Is anyone here?

His voice rose, but only silence answered. The only sound was his own breath, reverberating in the still air.

Boom.

Naruto froze.

—What...?

A deep sound, like the heartbeat of something colossal, rumbled through the space. His eyes darted around, searching for the source. But the hall remained empty, vast, and unknowable.

Boom.

The stained glass window cracked.

The sound of glass stretching and splintering filled the air, and a jagged fracture raced across its surface. Naruto took a step back, his legs trembling, unable to look away.

Something about that crack mesmerized him.

And then, he heard it.

A voice.

—Rise.

Naruto gasped, whipping his head in all directions.

—W-What...? Who said that?

The voice was deep. Ancient. It thundered in his mind like a distant storm, yet it also whispered coldly in his ear. Something vast and incomprehensible was speaking directly to his soul.

—Who are you?! What is this place?! —he shouted, his voice cracking.

But the voice ignored him, rumbling again, louder than before.

—Rise, warrior. Your battle is not over.

The ground trembled beneath his feet. Naruto spun around, panic gripping his chest, as the walls groaned and the air hummed with an energy that made him feel insignificant.

—I don't understand anything! Just tell me! —he screamed, his voice lost in the chaos.

Boom.

The stained glass shattered.

Thousands of crystal shards shot toward him like gleaming blades. Naruto raised his arms to shield himself, but before they could reach him—

The world fell apart.

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Naruto jolted awake.

His body arched as he sucked in a desperate breath, as if he had just escaped a nightmare too real to be a dream. The pain in his abdomen returned instantly—burning, searing—accompanied by the sticky warmth of blood soaking his clothes.

But there was something else.

He blinked, his vision blurry. And then, he saw it.

A figure.

It stood before him—tall, menacing, shrouded in shadow. Naruto barely managed to whisper:

—...You…

The figure did not respond, but its eyes burned red in the darkness, piercing through the dim alley. A colossal sword rested on its shoulder, and the air around it rippled and wavered, distorted by a heat that could not be natural.

Naruto tried to move, but the pain kept him pinned to the ground. His muscles were rigid, unresponsive. All he could do was watch.

The figure took a step forward, and the ground trembled beneath its weight.

Naruto didn't know who—or what—it was, but its presence was unmistakable. It was fury itself, raw and unrelenting. Every breath it took exuded pure violence, barely restrained beneath a veil of eerie calm, like a volcano seconds from erupting.

He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

The figure stopped just a few steps away, staring at him in silence, as if assessing him. Then, slowly, it raised its sword, and the tip gleamed with a crimson glow, as though drenched in blood.

—Rise, warrior.

The voice was the same one he had heard in the hall, now echoing inside his mind like thunder, rattling every fiber of his being.

—Rise and fight.

The sword came down with a deafening roar—

And Naruto felt as if the very world had split in two.

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Naruto opened his eyes for the second time.

This time, the alley was engulfed in deep silence. Blood still pooled beneath him, and the fire in his abdomen burned hotter than ever. But something had changed.

Something inside him had awakened.

He clenched his fists, feeling a new energy ignite within him. He didn't know where it came from or what it meant, but it filled him, pushing him to move.

The echo of those words still rang in his mind:

Rise and fight.

With a growl of sheer will, Naruto pressed his palms against the ground and forced his body to rise. Every muscle screamed, every wound burned, but he did not stop.

When he finally stood—shaky, but unyielding—only one certainty remained in his mind.

Darkness would not take him.

Not this time.