Foreword,

This is to commemorate a series that many people of my generation has grown up with. Our boy Suzuki finds himself in a "New World".

About the balance of powers, I take the Overlord LNs and Naruto(Mostly)+Naruto Shippuden(less of this, kinda became Dragon Ball 2.0 instead of Naruto 2.0) anime as reference. Not the Overlord Anime which I think is way subpar to LNs.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto, nor Overlord.

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The Dive system short circuited. After years of extensive usage with minimal maintenance, the power supply overloaded the circuits with high ampere currents. The complex system of neural links fried from the massive electron flow, sending out a final large bolt into the microchip interface located at the back of the neck. The massive shock instantly cooked the nerves, travelling straight to the weary brain of a particular salesman.

Regardless of fortune, at the moment of the accident, threads of fate intermingled. Such that Suzuki Satoru was Suzuki Satoru only within the memories of the aforementioned man. His consciousness only kept together by its most ingrained and deepest desires. Before death could embrace, distant chants pulled the wanting soul out of its weary 35-year-old body.

XXX

Shakujo rhythmically hit the ground. While regular shakujo had rings hung from a staff with a loop, theirs had blood-stained triangles. Around thirty priests chanted in unison while couple hundred followers swayed to the haunting melody.

Voices echoed through halls carved into the mountain side of a range in Tsuchi no Kuni, facing Takigakure. Floors were bare stone, besides small living quarters, the temple mainly consisted of a huge hall with small altars and a large altar at the center. The hall was full of Jashinists and sacrifices that night. On the main altar stood a bowl filled with the blood of every present person in the hall except for the chanters.

Jashin. It was a myth, a legend and for them; the reality. A deity that reveled in the madness and pain of its servants. Chanters and subjects shared their torment with the sacrifices that littered the ground of the temple. Men, women and children from a dozen villages laid in between the Jashinists, drugged and poisoned. Only to be freed by sweet death to meet Jashin.

In between the ranks, two robed acolytes signed at each other fervently. They were infiltrators from Iwagakure. Both were terrified.

'Too late. Begun. Interrupt.?.'

'Too many. Can't Stop. Wait & report.'

'Confirmed.'

Two ninjas trembled as the Jashinists went on with the ritual. An old man stepped forward from the group of chanters and climbed the altar. He dropped to his knees before the bowl and whispered some words. Chakra drained from his body and the blood began to swirl and rise. The chants become louder and louder, infused with chakra and some sort of genjutsu. The two infiltrators fell down to their knees from the mental stress. Breathing deeply on the floor.

The blood turned black and transformed in to a humanoid figure. The old man's eyed opened wide as he licked his lips. Chants had become faster and the shakujo hit the floor relentlessly. 'We are pulling him through.' He rose his teary eyes to the humanoid figure and smiled perversely.

"HE IS HERE! LORD JASHIN IS HER-"

A deep reverberating suction sounded through the hall as souls were sucked into the humanoid figure. Everyone whom blood was within the bowl fell lifelessly on top of each other. With the sacrifice, summoning was complete and Jashin stood before their very eyes. Tears fell from the old Jashinist's eyes as he gazed at Jashin.

Two malevolent flames danced in empty eye-sockets. Alabaster skull was devoid of skin, flesh or any imperfection. A dark halo glimmered behind his head. The deity wore a purple robe with golden trims, on his left hand was a golden staff depicting seven serpents wrapped around each other, each holding a single large gem of a different color in its mouth. Its skeletal hands were adorned with exquisite rings.

"Lord Jashin…" He was parched, he was terrified and he was so happy.

Jashin looked straight into the sinister geezer's eyes. Then around the room. The Jashinist felt the deity's aura, and died along with rest of chanters who had gathered around the altar. The last Jashinists left in the room were dead.

XXX

It was weird. After a brief flash of light, the server was gone. Suzuki Satoru felt a floating feeling but somehow that is as far as his brain functioned at the moment. After what felt like an eternity, he felt a thug on to his entirety(body?). Lights of different colors flickered and Suzuki felt like he was being squeezed through a coin sized hole. After another moment which felt like an eternity things became more and more clear.

Suzuki "woke" to some loud and creepy chanting. His vision slowly showed a large dimly lit hall and found himself looking at a scary looking old man. The man was in dark red robes and the way he looked at Suzuki was… unsettling to say the least. Things felt wrong, very wrong but still Suzuki found himself becoming composed every time he felt like losing his shit.

Behind the man was dead bodies…upon bodies upon bodies. His brain began to scream but every time it tried to jump into madness, something pulled it straight back. 'What the hell. What the hell…WHAT THE HELL! IS THIS HELL?!'

While Suzuki silently screamed, his body stood tall on the altar over countless bodies stuck in weird postures with terrified expressions. In the sea of the dead, two lumps stood next to each other shaking. When Suzuki looked back down he saw that the old man was dead too.

Suzuki slowly stepped out of the bowl, in measured movements completely in conflict with his mental state. His feet made a clacking noise. He could feel the cold stone but it wasn't causing him any discomfort. 'What? Am I barefoot?'

The salesman looked down to the familiar sight of his divine Yggdrasil equipment. After a moment of complete blanking out, Suzuki putted the pieces together.

"I am still in Yggdrasil." He said out loud to himself, relieved. Maybe this was just a surprise update. His voice was powerful and commending. It did not match the exasperated voice in his mind. It immediately alarmed him though, due to the fact that there was no speak function in Ygddrasil. After another moment of complete mind fuckery, he flipped around and grabbed the sides of the bowl. If he could, he would be hyperventilating right now.

Suzuki looked down into the pool of blood, and a terrifying overlord looked back.

"M-Momonga?!" 'But this is real! I am feeling the floor, I can speak, WHAT IS HAPPENING!'

Small cracks appeared around the bowl as his grip tightened. He talked to himself in his commanding voice again, unfitting the brittle whisper in his mind.

"I became Momonga."

His nonexistent heart tightened.

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Let me know what you think! I have written a short introduction for now, we will see how it develops in the future. Until next time.