A/N:

Okay so here goes my first ever Highschool DxD / Naruto Cross-over story. I love a lot of these stories on this site, even though some of them are slightly ruined by either Naruto being an OP, god-like figure and so on… and also…..

They're virtually all just about Naruto, and the few variations are either Itachi or Sasuke.

And that's kind of boring.

So I've decided to take up the mantle and bring a new style of Naruto story to the DxD cross-over archives. Other characters from the Narutoverse will appear, but the main character shall be someone who is almost always overlooked as a protagonist, despite being my personal favourite character. Someone of great power and ability, a man with a misguided and warped soul that simply sought to avenge the love of his life and bring peace to a world drowning in needless and endless violence.

A man who ultimately suffers because of his own mistakes and circumstances, not because he is an evil man. One who could be called a 'tragic hero'.

But that's enough outta me for now.

It's time to launch the revolution.

(P.S: This is a chapter that I have had written for some time, and I have just decided to post it. For now, this is all you'll be getting till the 24th June due to my exams. Sorry!)

"I'll kill you!" – Normal speech (E.G Humans, Devils, Angels etc.)

'All for nothing.' – Human / Devil / Yokai etc. thoughts.

"Katon : Endan!" – Jutsu/ Technique/ Sacred Gear Ability.

[We need to be careful.] – Sacred Gear / Possessed weapon/ Bijju speech.

{Dam brat, what's he doing?} – Sacred Gear / Possessed weapon/ Bijju thoughts.

(Prologue: Welcome to Chaos.)

(The Elemental Nations, undiscernible location.)

(Play: Naruto OST: Hyouhaku)

'They say that you never know the true price of revenge until you've finally savoured its bittersweet taste; until you've exacted your justice and brought about balance to the world. Well, at least in your eyes that is.

And I thought that my eyes, the eyes of my fore-fathers, the eyes of the Sage himself, would give me clarity beyond normal comprehension: that they would make my cause just and righteous, for I would be able to see everything.

How wrong was I?'

"I thought I would bring about an era of peace and prosperity. A never ending peace, one that would stop anyone else from suffering like I have." A lone, cloaked figure muttered to himself as he stood atop the edge of a cliff. The cloak-like jacket he wore had seen far better days, with numerous slashes and burn marks destroying large portions of the midnight-black material, revealing the form-fitting black shirt that clung to his rock-hard muscles. The sections of the jacket that had been protected from damage was due to the black, samurai style armour that covered it. Upon his feet were a pair of Ninja-boots that had kept the toe area, in favour of installing Chakra-metal claws to the footwear, in order to make them far more lethal. The jacket's collar was high-cut, and revealed virtually none of the figures neck, instead showing the white, porcelain mask that hid his face from the world. It bore five black circles, each of which grew closer and closer together until finally reaching a large black dot that would rest roughly where the young man's head became covered in his short, spikey black hair, whilst an inverted-coma like hole at the top of the mask aided ventilation.

Yet despite this imposing attire, the single most striking thing about this figure was not his intimidating clothing, nor the gargantuan or unmistakable form of the Gunbai on his back, or even the blood-splattered Kusari-fundo wrapped around his powerful arms. No, these paled in comparison to one simple thing.

His eyes.

The right eye was emitting an eerie red glow that would cause many people to faint in fright alone. But if one could find the courage to look upon this eye, they would see that within the hell-fire coloured iris, and around the pupil, was a small, three-pointed shuriken. This was none other than the legendary Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, the final form of the Uchiha clan's dōjutsu.

But not even this eye could hold a candle to the man's left eye.

Without an iris, the entire eye was colored a 'metallic purple' that seemed to literally hum with godly, unspoken levels of power. The eye was marked by successive 'ripples' that grew smaller and smaller as they approached the abnormally small pupil of the eye, adding to its already weird yet powerful appearance. This was the fabled Rinnegan, 'the eyes of the sage' and the single most powerful dōjutsu to exist in the world anymore. They held the power of just about anything and everything, from summoning techniques to literally reversing death, this eye made the figure a veritable god of his world…

'Hah, some god I am.'

Casting his legendary eyes up from the floor, the man let out a small sigh as his eyes drank in the scene before him, both burning the sight into his memories with absolute clarity. But he knew that even without his legendary eyes, this would be a sight that he would never be able to forget, even if he had but the eyes of a normal human.

The once luscious fields that spread out for as far as the eye could see were all but gone. In the place of the vibrant blues, reds and yellows that once blended gorgeously with the never-ending expanse of green existed a crater-filled, monotone expanse of brown and blackened dirt. Spread out across this vast expanse lay the corpses of tens of thousands of people, each and every single one burnt beyond recognition, like charred ants left under a magnifying glass on a hot summers day. No longer was the sky a wondrous blue that inspired adventure and a love of live into all that set eyes upon it, and instead a blood-red monstrosity that was choked with the ash of a thousand fires that raged all across the world. Not even the sun was left unscathed, it too having turned a murderous crimson that caused the man's heart to ache like no-other.

The world that he once hated was no more…

And now he longed for it like no other.

'It wasn't supposed to end like this. None of this was ever supposed to fucking happen.'

He had grown up within his Village like any other member of a prestigious clan. From the moment he could walk, his mother and his father taught him the art of the Shinobi, the ways of the Ninja. He was somewhat talented, there was no denying it, but there was ultimately nothing overly special about him in terms of his skills. But unfortunately his country was at war with the rest of the world, embroiled in a conflict known as the 'Third Great Shinobi World War'. And as a result, his home, his country needed as many soldiers as it could muster.

And so he entered his villages Shinobi Academy at the age of five, looking to graduate as early as possible, in order to prove to his family that he did have what it took to be something special. His first impressions were hardly fantastic, as he arrived just as the welcoming ceremony came to an end. Ignored by his classmates, the young man watched as all but two people had left: a girl by the name of Rin Nohara and a boy by the name of Kakashi Hatake. The former greeted him warmly with a gentle smile and kind words, whilst the latter berated him for his tardiness.

From that point on, Rin would become the young man's closest friend, whilst Kakashi would become his greatest rival. However it was a one-sided rivalry, as the young man always fell short of beating the young Hatake prodigy, even when they graduated from the academy several years later. Over the course of that time, the young man failed to awaken his family's Dōjutsu, leading to his parents growing distant and cold, ignoring him when he asked for help training or flat-out refusing to discuss Shinobi matters with him at any point.

Yet he was not to be deterred.

Somehow, the young man managed to finish second in his class, only behind his long-time rival Kakashi. Upon graduating, he was placed in a team with his rival and closest friend, Rin. And as luck would have it, their sensei turned out to be perhaps the strongest Ninja of his generation.

Minato Namikaze.

Their first 'team' exercise was to steal a bell from the already legendary 'Yellow Flash'. But with Minato being Minato, things were never going to be quite so simple. He told them that in order to pass, they had to get a bell, or face returning to the academy for another year. Naturally, the young man and his rival had sped after their sensei in an effort to capture a bell: and naturally they failed spectacularly. Both had become accustomed to doing things by themselves: one because he refused aid from others, the other because he had been refused aid by others. However, their third teammate indicated that perhaps the goal of the exercise was not to get the bells, but to work as a team.

And so they devised a plan…

And succeeded in getting the bells.

Well, Kakashi and Rin did.

The young man had waited, despite Rin's words, expecting Minato to send him back to the academy in disgrace… so imagine his surprise when his sensei spoke the three words that changed his life.

'You all pass.'

The young man had never felt so proud in his entire life, he was practically jumping for joy when he reached home with the news.

And as a result, his joy was to be short lived.

His parents still did not care for his success: he was still a failure in their eyes. Even after they failed to teach him, even after the rest of his clan began to ostracize him, the young man refused to give up hope that he would be able to make them accept him again…. To make his parents love him again.

And so the following years flew by: missions came and went. He and his team grew stronger and stronger with every passing day. Eventually, he and his team were all promoted to the rank of Chunin, even though he had yet to gain his Sharingan. And yet again the young man had been bursting with pride at his accomplishment…

And once again his parents failed to acknowledge him.

But that didn't matter to the young man.

'They'll acknowledge me when I reach the rank of Jonin, I know it!'

'Huh, yeah right.'

However, even though he trained and trained, he now always seemed to fall short of accomplishing what he set out to achieve. Whether it be reaching the rank of Jonin or gaining the attention of Rin as more than just a friend, the young man either fell short or could never quite bring himself to say the words needed. Yet despite this, his team was forced to stick together due to the war effort, and thus continued to fight together in an effort to bring the war to a close .

Eventually, at the age of thirteen, he and his team were sent of their first ever mission without their sensei, with Kakashi being left in charge as he had become a Jonin recently. Their objective was to destroy the Kannabi bridge in Iwa territory.

Things went well until they were discovered by Iwa Shinobi, and in the ensuing battle, Rin was captured by Iwa Ninja. Kakashi wanted to leave her for dead, in favor of completing the mission, whilst the young man demanded they save Rin. Eventually separating, the young man somehow tracked Rin to a small cave occupied by Iwa Shinobi some several hours later: inside he was ambushed by a camouflaged enemy… and he almost died there and then…

Key word being almost.

In a strange twist of fate, his rival, Kakashi, had followed him and managed to stop the Iwa Ninja from killing him… but not before losing his own left eye in the process.

Enraged at the threat to his team, the young man had been left almost stupefied as the world became exceptionally clear to him and his enemy 'slowed down'.

He had activated his Sharingan.

Using his newly acquired Dōjutsu, he killed his enemy and rescued Rin… but not before another foe could spring one final trap on the ragged team. Using the cave itself as a weapon, the Iwa Ninja caused the cave to collapse on itself around the entrance. And in a foolish moment of heroic self-sacrifice, the young man had saved his still-injured rival Kakashi from death by pushing him out of the way of the falling rocks, whilst himself becoming trapped.

Right hand side of his body crushed, but with his left eye still free, the young man decided to repay his teammate for his sacrifice, and order Rin to transplant his left eye into Kakshi's own socket, granting the boy the use of both eyes again. The Kunoichi performed her task without any hesitation, and the young man sat in darkness as he listened with what he thought where his last moments as his two friends fled from the site and back home.

By all rights, that should have been the end of his tale there.

But alas, fate was a cruel mistress, one that enjoyed tormenting those with the potential to do great or terrible things.

After spending an eternity in darkness, the young man had finally awoken, expecting to be greeted by the afterlife… but what he got instead was the beginnings of his own personal hell.

Casting his eyes up to the blood-red and ash-choked sky, the man let out a scream of absolute frustration and agony as he collapsed onto his knees, fabled crimson and purple orbs burning the hellish visage into his mind forever as he screamed to the world.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, MADARA?! IS THIS THE PEACE YOU WANTED TO BRING TO THIS WORLD YOU FUCKING BASTARD?!"

He screamed for all he was worth to the world.

He screamed as if expecting someone to answer his question. But ultimately he knew that expecting such a thing to happen now was out of the question… after all…

It's hard for the world to answer you when it's become a graveyard.

A graveyard you created.

And it was all thanks to that one man.

Madara Uchiha.

It had been that zombified old man that had brought the young man back from the brink of death. He had given him a new arm, a new leg, new skin and bones. The legendary Uchiha had given him everything he needed, and the young man had owed the old bastard his life.

'Oh how I wish I hadn't.'

If he hadn't owed the man a debt, he would have never stayed with him for as long as he did. He would have never seen his friend slay the love of his life with his signiture technique. He would never have descended into his own personal hell of hatred, loneliness and despair.

None of it would have ever happened, had it not been for that old bastard and his plans.

'Never ending peace. HAH! How foolish must I have been to believe that load of bullshit. Madara never wanted to bring about peace or an end to hatred: he wanted to do what all men with power eventually wish to do. He wanted to dominate the world. He wanted to dominate every single facet of life for every single living human being that he could.

Sure he may have thought that he was bringing peace.

But it was really just his primal instincts dressed up in a flimsy philosophy and given weight by his experience and my own tragedy. And in the end, no-one apart from me has to pay the price of his plan's failure: but in a way, I suppose that it is the most fitting end, considering everything I did to get us to this point in the first place.' The young man told himself bitterly as he relived his actions within the confines of his own tortured mind.

He had spent well over a decade planning for a fourth war: a war that would eventually lead the world to peace. 'The eye of the moon plan' they had called it. It was complex and demanding, but the young man had become strong enough to see if through to its conclusion. For over ten years he had been shaping the events of the world so that he may once more bring peace to the Elemental Nations. From turning a kind-hearted Kage into a genocidal maniac against all Kekei Genkai users to manipulating one of the strongest Shinobi on the planet into doing most of his work for him, he had done it all.

And it had all been so easy.

At the time, he had felt like some sort of semi-divine puppet-master : playing with the lives of mortals by pulling strings to suit his own ends. And he wasn't exactly wrong either: he had been the Nation's puppet master for well over a decade… and the end results had been terrifyingly effective for his plans.

Of course that had fueled his delusions of grandeur: by the time the 'Fourth Great Shinobi world war' was under-way, he literally thought of himself as a god.

And for a time that may have been true.

Able to resurrect the dead, destroy mountains and command tailed-beasts as if they were little more than pets, he had every right to believe his own boasts. In a world filled with giants capable of performing extraordinary acts with little more than their bodies, the young man had risen above them all to become the single strongest Shinobi alive . A proud boast, that is true, but when nobody could touch him on the battlefield, not even the Fourth Hokage's son, Naruto Uzumaki, it was only natural that you'd develop a god-complex of sort.

'After all, I was only human.'

Eventually, once he had resurrected the primordial god of his world, he truly thought of himself as being a divine being of unmatchable power. And if a few mortals had to die to see his plan come to its conclusion, then he would be more than happy to do so…

But then everything had backfired.

The Juubi, the god of his world, had literally exploded within a few minutes of being resurrected. A blast so powerful that it had annihilated every single living thing on the face of the planet. Well, almost everything.

Everything except for the masked man.

He didn't know if it was because the Juubi's body had become unstable and weak due to countless years of disuse, or whether it was due to the fact that he had only managed to seal the Yang half of the Kyubi's chakra into it instead of all of it, but given that he was too focused on trying to figure how the hell he had managed to survive above all others, he was unable to reach a reasoned conclusion.

'Out of anyone, I thought it would be Uzumaki who would survive.' The masked man chuckled bitterly to himself as he closed his eyes, refusing to allow any form of tears to be shed at how everything had ultimately turned out, even as he raced through a thousand apologies within his head. But out of all of them, four stood out above the rest of them:

'I'm so sorry Minato-sensei, Kushina-san, Kakashi-kun and… oh god.

I'm so sorry Rin. I tried, I tried to make a world where we could be together again, where me and Kakashi could be friends and Minato-sensei and Kushina-san didn't have to die and leave Naruto-san alone in the world. I wanted to turn my dream into a reality. I wanted to stop falling short and finally succeed in what I set out to do. I wanted to stop being the man who came in second best and was able to overcome any obstacle; even if it was me against the entire fucking world. But even with the world on the line and victory for either myself or those who stood against me, I still managed to fuck it up for everyone.' He thought to himself as he finally managed to force his tired and aching body to its feet, despite its painful protests. Taking several steps forward, the man looked down at the mass of rocks and debris that lay some several hundred feet below him. He knew that what he was about to was something he had no right to do: he had made his own personal hell here in the Elemental Nations, and as such deserved to stay there. But he also knew that there was a far more painful fate awaiting him when he got to the other side. Normally he wasn't a spiritual kind of guy, but after everything he had done, he was hoping there was a Hell, so he could at least begin to atone for some of his crimes.

'Unfortunately, I don't think Hell will exist long enough to punish me fully for my crimes.'

Smiling ruefully to himself, the man cast one look up to the heavens before allowing his final thoughts to manifest themselves as words.

"Rin… I'm sorry, but it looks like I won't ever see you again. Me and the Devil have a long over-due meeting now." He muttered to himself hoarsely before finally taking his final step forward, and casting himself off of the cliff-face.

He had wanted to die without his mask on. He had wanted to die as who he was.

He didn't want to die as 'Madara Uchiha', 'Tobi' or 'The masked man'.

He wanted to die as Obito Uchiha, the last man alive on Earth.

But he knew that he did not deserve such an honor. After all, far more worthy and wonderful people had died in the shadows for no discernable purpose, with their names long forgotten to the world around them, so what right did he, the greatest criminal of all time, have to die with his face free to the world again?

'None.'

And as such, he would die nameless to the world again… not that it really mattered in the end.

As the ground drew closer and closer to Obito, he did not feel alarm or concern, he did not feel afraid. Even the natural self-preservation instincts of a human's body failed to register any sort of danger to the man. Instead of feeling afraid or sad, he felt just simple contentment and acceptance.

Contentment that he would soon receive his just deserts.

And acceptance that this was far more than he deserved, considering what he had done.

But as the cold, sharp and unforgiving rocks drew closer and closer to Obito, he noticed the appearance of a faint-white circle, roughly where he was going to land. He couldn't make out a single thing on the damned bloody circle, despite the numerous words and symbols that it was comprised of. As the last Shinobi sped towards the ground, the circle's glow grew and grew until, moments before impact, the circle released a blinding flash of light that turned Obito's vision white…

Before darkness consumed him once again.

(End OST)

(Unknown location)

A cloaked figure grinned savagely as they took in the now restored form of the masked man that he had pulled from the other realm. The figure was easily 5'9 tall and cut an imposing figure in his blue jacket/cloak hybrid and white mask: and if the energy signature that he was giving off was anything to go bye, then he was also strong.

Very strong indeed.

Not nearly as strong as the cloaked figure that stood over him, but certainly strong enough to wipe out all but the strongest members of the world he now existed in.

And certainly strong enough for what the man had in mind for him.

Turning his attention away from his latest pawn, the cloaked figure instead focused his sight on the only remaining source of light in the room that was not the faintly flickering torch that was next to the masked man. A faintly glowing green gem that had been set into an wrought iron casing that was imbued with thousands of different names in hundreds of different tongues. The gem was surging with barely restrained power as the cloaked figure picked it up and began to casually read the most prominent names on the casing… with the final one being the most eye-catching of all.

Kin-slayer.

The Pale Rider.

Death.

Smirking to themselves, the cloaked figure turned back to face the final man that he had summoned into this realm from the Land of Shinobi, the third 'Other world'. It had taken a long time; oh it had taken him hundreds of years to complete the work that his father had begun way back at the beginning of time in this world. But he knew that in order for his plans to be successful, he needed the power of the man in-front of him if he was going to bring chaos to the world of Humans, Yokai, Angels, Fallen and Devils.

He needed the skills, power and brains of a man who had already destroyed one world in order to bring about the end of this one, so that he could unleash the ultimate weapon, and rule over the two 'Other Worlds' as a god. But as things stood, the downed figure was simply not strong enough to help him at the most critical moments, and as such, the cloaked figure was going to give him a 'gift' that would help him reach the level of the strongest that this world had to offer . Closing the distance between himself and the masked man again, the cloaked figure stopped with just an inch between his feet and the man's unconscious form.

With a surprising level of care and consideration, the man knelt down and gently placed the trapped gem on-top of the man's chest, almost directly in its center, as per the instructions of the ritual he was about to perform. It was exactly nineteen millimeters away from the center, being off-set to the right hand side of the man's chest. Standing back up, the man walked away from the prone figure, and instead took up position some six meters away from his body. He knew that this next step would be the most dangerous of the ritual he was about to execute. The 'Sacred Gear', if one could call it such, that he planned on bestowing the man had a rather horrible tendency to kill those that it was placed within…

He should know.

He'd already failed several times.

'Now is not the time for such trivial thoughts. I need to get this absolutely perfect: I refuse to let such a perfect candidate slip from my grasps just because I couldn't keep my mind focused for more than five seconds.' The cloaked figure thought to himself as he shook his head lightly to clear his mind of any thoughts that did not pertain to the ritual or its success. Taking a calming breath, the figure tapped into the endless ocean that they called their 'demonic energy' before they began to chant the first lines of the ancient, almost forgotten spell.

"Laus la korilla, menos tekars mons vortire res las madulez rexus."

The spell was almost as old as god and the devil himself. In fact, it was so ancient that the devils' natural ability to understand almost any spoken language did not cover it. The words flowing from the figures mouth were amongst the first spoken by Devil-kind: they were the words of Lucifer, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Leviathan. Ancient humans had once called it 'speaking in tongues', and the phrase was one that was still used today. But to the few who knew of its existence, these words were a part of a language known only as 'Satanic Speech'.

"Izmenthanus locarnez verectum res acmeridum losan fex poxarma defedum."

Upon completing the second line of the spell, a sickly-grey magical circle had formed around the masked figure on the floor, bathing the dark room in an ill-looking glow. Eyes still focused on the figure, the hooded man continued his demonic chant with and increased fervor.

"Brandus en marsfec de nadek."

Here, the magical circles glow increased for several seconds whilst eight ethereal chains of grey magic sprang forth from the circle like vipers from their nest, wrapping themselves around almost every single part of the unconscious man's body, leaving only his head and the area around the mysterious gem free. Allowing a small grin to cross his face, the hooded figure continued to increase the pace and fervor of his chant as the magical circle began to pulse with the power that was coursing through it.

"Althmarstas endrocius mealtorcus aventus yucras menelphasus."

Ever so slowly, the gem on the young man's chest continued to glow with power; power over ruin and destruction.

Power over life and death.

The power of the 'Pale Rider'.

Within a few moments, the gem was glowing as brightly as any star in the night-sky, bathing the dank room in an ethereal green glow that would terrify the stoutest of hearts. The very air seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each and every passing second as reality seemed to twist under the power of the gem, causing the cloaked figures sight to go slightly off for several moments as he raised his power output to keep himself safe from the… adverse effects of this spell.

'To have such a strong reaction with the Gear must mean that he is extremely attuned to it. Excellent! That means the end product shall be even more useful than I first thought!'

With his grin growing slightly twisted, the cloaked man entered the later stages of the spell with new-found vigor and hope that maybe this time his plan would be successful.

"Venselus imitarus grentavus obstansus kveneter lezvecus quenterus nerdasum loraz!"

The moment he finished those words, the unconscious young man let out a gut-wrenching scream that caused the chanter to panic slightly, fearing that his best candidate yet was again rejecting the power of the cursed gear. Casting his eyes up from the floor and to the source of the tortured screams, the cloaked figure found himself to be pleasantly surprised that instead of merely ripping the masked man's body apart at the seams, the Sacred Gear was actually entering the 'unconscious' man's body, albeit at an agonizingly slow pace. The cloaked figure gritted his teeth and waited for the gem to fully 'submerge' into the figures body before commencing the final line of the chant: the binding of the Gear to the soul.

"Arentino illitarvus menestheus dvenzacus lazet inseraparta!"

The words literally translated to 'Make this one's soul and Sacred Gear inseparable'. They acted as the final binding between the 'soul' of the host and the 'soul' of the Sacred Gear, therefore ensuring that the only way the Gear could now be removed would be via the use of a 'Sacred Gear Extractor'… something that no-body with any common sense would want to use.

The cloaked figure watched as the magical circle in-front of him suddenly changed from a sickly-grey to a dark-green, before being blinded by a gargantuan flash of green light that left him blinded for several moments. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, the man finally managed to regain the use of his vision and focused his attention back to his surroundings.

Silence greeted his ears and almost perpetual darkness his sight.

Turning his head to where the formally prone figure lay, the cloaked figure almost let out a cheer of triumph as he spotted the gently breathing masked man that he had performed the ritual on.

He'd finally succeeded.

He'd finally managed to create the final piece that he needed to set his plan into motion.

All that was left now was to make sure that he understood his new powers and orders, and then he would be ready.

Oh yes.

"He's going to be my perfect pawn." The cloaked figure thought darkly to himself as he remembered the memories that he had seen when he had read the unconscious man's mind. Easily manipulated and powerful, he was going to enjoy using the man to further his plans…

Whilst sinking him into his own personal hell at the same time.

'Let's see how long you last, my tragic little hero.'

(An Unknown location, Human world, Near the Khaos Brigades' Headquarters, Five years later.)

A young, Gothic Lolita girl was sat on a small wall, her violet eyes overlooking the vast nothingness of the icy world before her. She looked to be between the ages of roughly fourteen or sixteen, with long black hair and an expressionless, gorgeous face. Her eyes were currently taking in nothing in particular as the faint wind blew along a small cloud of snow, whilst several small animals scurried about the crisp surface, obviously looking for their homes.

'Home. How I miss my home.' The girl thought to herself sadly as she cast her eyes up into the sky, as if searching for something amongst the innumerable stars above her that was not really there.

'Everything was perfect until Red-baka came along and forced me out of my own home.' The girl thought bitterly to herself as she continued to stare into space. Had she not known any better, then she would have thought that the main object of her hatred had hidden it from her in an attempt to further spite the already annoyed girl. Letting out a small sigh of frustration, the girl got to her feet and prepared to go back into her organization's base when she suddenly caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye. Turning back around, the girl fixed her gaze back onto the cold wasteland in order to find the origin of the movement.

(Play: Naruto OST: Senya)

A lone figure was steadily walking towards her with calm, measured steps. Each one was beyond graceful and appeared almost effortless to the strange figure, despite the copious amounts of snow that lay beneath his boots. The girl's eyesight could make out the dark blue jacket/cloak that the figure wore, along with their black trousers and boots which were tipped with some kind of metal claw. Their head was concealed by a white mask with a progressive black ripple patter on it that stopped just short of an inverted-coma hole, which was probably there to increase ventilation for the mask.

The young girl kept her eyes fixed solely on the figure as he drew closer and closer to her with each and every passing moment. After what seemed like an age, but was in reality only a few minutes, the young man stood just below her, some two or three meters away. The shaded eyeholes gave the man's visage a 'creepy' look (not that she felt such an emotion), and the way he merely stood before her without offering a single word was odd behavior for a normal being.

The two just stood there for a while; endless pits of black staring into the never-ending oceans that were the girl's eyes.

"Who… are you?"

Her words were spoken not only with a monotone, but they were also slow and considered, as if she had not much experience in speaking at all, let alone speaking to another person. The masked man cocked his head to the side gently before replying in a neutral monotone that suited his apperance perfectly.

"It is rude to ask for one's name without giving your own."

The young girl merely kept her gaze fixed upon the masked man for several more moments, mulling over his words and what she could discern about him. Initially, the young girl had considered vaporizing him for showing her such blatant disrespect, but after realizing just how foolishly mortal her actions would be, she decided to abstain from that course of action, and instead evaluate the man before her. From the way he carried himself, she could easily tell that he was an extremely well-trained combatant; his movements carried absolutely no wasted movement and he was always seemingly well-aware of his surroundings. Also, although he masked it virtually perfectly, the young girl could still sense a gargantuan amount of power coming from within the man. It was easily enough to rival the strongest members of her organization, such as Kuroka and Bikou, placing him well into the 'Ultimate Class' of Devils/Yokai (or six – ten wings of the Angelic factions). It was the sort of power that she could certainly use in her organization… and given the man's appearance before her…

'Certainly worth a shot.'

"My name is Ophis : the infinite dragon god."

Silence reigned over the two for what felt like an eternity, whilst an uncomfortable atmosphere began to build between the two. Eventually though, the masked man finally broke the silence.

"Forgive me, Ophis-sama, I did not actually fully believe the words of the one who sent me here when they described your… unique apperance." The man finally stated, earning a raised eyebrow from Ophis as she quickly tried to think as to who could have sent the man to her. Of late, only several aspects of the brigade had been active, with the most notable being the Old Satan Faction… and only one of them had enough brains to recruit a human as strong as this one.

"Katarea sent you, didn't she." It wasn't a question, it was just a statement of fact.

"Indeed, my name is Obito, Ophis-sama. I was told that your organization could use someone with my skills and abilities."

Again Ophis raised an eyebrow at the man's name: he had only given her his first name and his apparent nick-name, something that no-one else had ever done to her before. Curiosity suitably engaged, the dragon of Infinity dropped down from the small wall she was sat on so that she could get closer to the mysterious man. Once she was within but a few meters of him, she fixed the eyeless holes of his mask with her own gaze before speaking back up.

"What is your second name, Obito-san?"

Chuckling to himself, the man cast his gaze to the sky before answering the dragon's question.

"I have no right to bear my clan-name any more: not after the things that I have done." He replied ruefully, earning a raised eyebrow from Ophis as she tried to discern the meaning behind his words. Narrowing her eyes slightly, the 'Infinite Dragon God' continued to run through everything that she knew about the man before her within the confines of her mind.

'He's a well-trained warrior, and is obviously battle-hardened and competent. His skill in masking his power suggests that he is also extremely skilled in the arts of stealth and more than likely assassination. He has a huge amount of power within his body, most of which is… is…

Chakra.

Of course, he's from there.'

"You're from the third 'Other world', aren't you?" Ophis asked calmly, earning a small nod from the man in-front of her.

"That I am."

"How did you get here?"

Ophis could have sworn that she could feel the man smirk at her questions, obviously taking slight pleasure in knowing something that she did not. However, that smugness did not last long as he slowly settled himself down into the traditional Japanese sitting position, a feeling of anguish, hatred, pain and loathing radiating from his very soul as he turned his eyeless gaze onto the most powerful being on Earth at that moment.

"You may wish to get comfortable, because this is a long story."

Sitting down without worry of the snows' cool touch, Ophis kept her gaze fixed on the man as he let out a long-suffering sigh before he began speaking.

"I was once told that those who are learning to love must bear the cure of hatred more than any other…

And I most certainly learnt that truth the hard way."

(Several hours later)

Obito kept his gaze fixed Ophis as he finished telling his tale to her… or at least, the one that he and his 'master' had created.

Many things was Rizevim Livan Lucifer, but foolish and careless were certainly not two of his traits. Brutal, sadistic, cold, cruel and outright evil; yes.

But certainly not foolish… well not when it came to how to trick Ophis.

Trying to control Obito was another matter entirely.

After awakening in a strange room five years ago, the first child of the original Lucifer had explained his situation to him; how he had apparently 'appeared out of no-where at deaths door', and he had used one of his 'most precious artefacts' to save his life. It was all lies of course; Obito could see it fairly easily. He himself was a master of manipulating people, and as such it had not taken long for the 'Last Shinobi' to pick apart the man's lies. But seeing as he knew nothing of where he was, Obito decided to play-along with Rizevim's story, allowing the son of Lucifer to believe that Obito was willing to do almost anything to repay him for his services…

'Just like I was with Madara.'

Rizevim quickly began to impart his knowledge of the world onto Obito: both mundane and supernatural. At first he had thought the man truly insane, but after seeing his wings and his power, he could do little to demy his situation any-more.

He was in another world.

For day on end he had allowed his conscious to fight a never-ending war with itself as he tried to find a single thing that had warranted another chance at life. Of all the people that could have been chosen, fate had decided to choose him: a mass-murdering, genocidal criminal who had destroyed his own world out of his blind hatred for the rest of humanity. He was the one who had been given a final chance at 'living'. At first he had been sickened by the idea: after all, there were millions dead because of him who were far more deserving of this second chance, yet they never got it, and yet he did.

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that perhaps this was to be his penance: to endlessly strive to bring peace to war-torn world after war-torn world for an eternity. The price of failure in just one of these missions was yet unknown, but all that Obito knew was that, no matter how impossible his situation looked, he was not going to let this world become another lifeless husk like his own. No matter what it took, whether he needed to play the role of the hero or the villain, the shadowy protector or the blood-soaked madman, he was going to help this world finally achieve peace, if only in the Supernatural.

And so he decided to play the part of Rizevim's 'pawn': learning to master his new powers whilst honing his old ones, Obito used what he had learnt from the man to devise his own plan of action to try and bring the crazy bastard down before he could cause any real damage…

And stage one of that plan was to pretend that he was on the devil's side.

And so here he was, attempting to gain access into the Khaos Brigade so that Rizevim could learn their strengths and weaknesses, as well as who would be willing to join his own organization once he finally decided to step forward from the shadows. For Obito, it represented a chance to help 'push' several targets towards their demise whilst gathering allies and information to bring down the crazy bastard at the same time. It was the perfect place to start for the forsaken Uchiha… well as perfect a place as he could get in his current situation anyways. And seeing as one of his lovely 'parents' first lessons had been to 'take any and all genuine opportunities given', he was going to take the chance with both hands.

Providing that Ophis accepted him.

Steeling his soul, Obito brought his gaze back up to meet Ophis' endless violet ocean, praying to whatever deity that was watching over him to give him a little bit of help so that he could get started on ending Rizevim's mad scheme in earnest. He knew he didn't deserve such luck, but if he wanted to make good on his penance then this would certainly help. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, the young looking Dragon God finally decided to speak.

"I… believe you."

Obito let out a breath of air that he did not realize he had been holding. Now all he needed was for her to extend an offer to join the Khaos Brigade.

"Tell me, would you… Like to join the Khaos Brigade, Obito-san?"

"Yes. I have little purpose; and as such your will shall become my purpose for living. I will become your perfect weapon, Ophis-sama; your knife in the dark or blazing flame of unholy retribution. Providing that you would have me join, that is." His reply had been almost instantaneous; soon enough to sound genuine but not so soon as to sound rehearsed. The Gothic – Lottila Dragon-God kept staring blankly at the young man for several moments before finally speaking.

"Welcome… to the Khaos Brigade, Obito-san."

Bowing his head slightly, Obito smirked ever so slightly before replying to his new 'leader'.

"Please, unless we're alone, call me…"

"Despair."

A/N:

Yup, I went there.

Obito Uchiha is my favorite character in Naruto, with Itachi and Kakashi coming in a close tied second place. I feel that Obito doesn't get nearly enough love in FF as a protagonist or even a good-guy, so I decided to be bold and do something out of the ordinary. He's a fantastic character, and I hope that I can do him justice with this story. He is going to be OOC from time to time, but that will mostly be due to situations forcing his hand rather than it will be random changes in character.

Okay, choice explained, now it's time to get onto some house-keeping with regards to (what will probably / hopefully become FAQ's).

Q: How did Obito Survive?

A: That will be revealed within the not-to-distant future (probably two or three chapters, depending on how I feel).

Q: What other Naruto characters are going to appear?

A: There will be other Naruto characters. As to who these individuals are…well for the moment just be content knowing that there will be enough… ... ...and not just from the Manga / Anime as well!

Q: Is this gonna be a harem fic?

A: See next Chapter's A/N for answers

Q: You've done this/that with Obito's backstory and its WRONG! WHY IS IT WRONG YOU BASTARD?

A: This is FF, I've taken artistic license with Obito's life in order to make certain parts of my story make sense later on, as well as just to provide something a little different to canon!

Alright, that's just about all I've got to say for now, apart from to just ask you guys to drop a review to tell me what I did well and not so well. And perhaps suggest that you drop the story a fave or a follow (or maybe both) so that you can keep up to date with the story as it progresses.

Alrighty then, see you guys on June 24th.

Peace,

MetalGearMantis