I came awake bent over a bed that stunk; I think I can be excused for immediately pushing myself upright to try and figure out what the fuck happened. The problem, really, was that instead of levering myself up to look around I launched myself into the air. Like four feet in the fucking air.

Pinwheeling my arms around I managed to land on my feet and only briefly swayed back and forth. It was evident that this was not my room. I was a grown-ass man, and this was some teenager's unwashed 4chan-esque trollcave.

For some weird reason there was a hand mirror on the bed, so I picked it up and took in what was decidedly not my fucking face. Instead I was some slightly chubby dipshit with blue eyes and a blonde bowlcut that made him(me) look like a dopey mushroom.

Who in the hell—no. No no no nonononononononono—the mirror fell from my hands as I spun and approached the computer with trepidation. There was a website up already and I knew what I would see, but looked anyway.

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Fuck.

I'd like to be dramatic and say I raged at the heavens or something, but instead my emotions just… stopped. Probably shock, maybe a fugue state? Anyhow, I poked around the computer and various piles of paper and verified that I was, indeed, Gregory William Veder, as my school ID for Winslow helpfully supplied. I watched the last few minutes of April Fool's Day tick down as I poked the brain of the meat-suit I was now apparently wearing for some answers.

The best I was able to wrangle out of Greg's—my—memories is that he had triggered earlier in the day with some kind of Gamer-like power, except Naruto-flavored. And the first thing he bought was a bloodline.

It was the Sharingan. Of course.

And then, because he was a gigantic weeb who thought he knew how to hack ninja magic, he used a mirror to hit himself with a dojutsu-based genjutsu to force his pinkeye to evolve into the mangekyō.

Instead, he apparently mindfucked himself brain-dead, and somehow I ended up running the show. The one saving grace is that whatever Trump/Gamer power he had gave me all the ability of your garden-variety Naruto ninja-wizard and a steady supply of 'chakra' to use. The chakra was probably really space-whale juice, but since it seemed to fuel my powers I wasn't going to complain. The sharingan seemed to be gone, and while there was an options screen in my head of some kind that I could choose things from, the sharingan was listed as 'purchased' and my attempts at channelling shard-chakra to my eyes accomplished squat, so it seemed like Greg had fucked that up royally.

I had three 'points' left, and the options ranged from various bloodlines (with the cheapest running twenty points) to various hidden techniques (the Nara clan's shadow jutsu catching my interest at five points), to listings like 'Sage Mode' and 'Jinchūriki'. Of course, I had no idea what I was actually already capable of, although I did seem to be able to feel and manipulate the energy swirling around my body.

I sat down at the computer and after scrubbing at the nasty-ass keyboard found that there was indeed a Naruto wiki, apparently cribbed from Earth Aleph. I was going to practice a nice, safe illusionary clone and figured I'd need to look up how to do handseals. It seemed like the kind of detail that Greg'd want to maintain verisimilitude, but instead when I channeled a bit of energy—fuck it, I channeled chakra—and thought about making a clone, before I could even bother with handseal bullshit a me appeared next to me with a silent puff of smoke. Unfortunately it seemed that when I turned my head to look at my clone it mirrored me, so all I got to see was the back of the nast ass school shooter fade I now sported. A flex of chakra and the clone burst into smoke, and I pulled up a mental image of what I should have looked like and then invoked a henge. Now the mirror showed me a different man with short brown hair and hazel eyes instead of the double-chinned Aryan untermensch I had looked like just before.

Dispelling that I sighed and just stared off into the distance. If I was yanked from somewhere else, it was highly possible I was dead. Even if that wasn't the case, I had no inkling of how to even begin to find my way back, and I wasn't even in my own body.

Was Greg supposed to save the world? Had Taylor even—no, she got shut in the locker in January, so she probably did trigger.

Maybe Greg was destined for greater things. I, however, was going to fuck around and enjoy myself. And if Scion was killed and the world was saved, great. If not, then I guess I'd be going down with the rest of reality.

With that bullshit straight in my mind (not really, I was sure I'd be freaking the fuck out later), I found some sweatpants and a hoodie that were dark-colored and not too smelly and used my enhanced strength to open a window that hadn't been used in far too long. A fluid hop through and I shut it and darted into the shadows.

It was time for fuckery.

Two hours later and I had to admit that being a ninja was pretty damned awesome. I had managed a world-record pace and roof-hopped for miles before I came across an abandoned workshed over in the Trainyard. Once I was hidden inside it was time for some more advanced testing. I had managed to maintain a henge the whole time, so my next jutsu attempt was a substitution. Experimentation showed me that unless I had a good idea in my mind of something around my size I could substitute with the swap ended up being with something random and thus pretty disorienting, but it was an actual Trickster-like swap of two things. Time would tell if I could actually activate it in combat, of course. I also had the body flicker down pretty decent, so long as I had a good idea of where I was going to.

Wall-walking was ridiculously simple, and with the constant cycling of chakra through my body I didn't have any of the obvious issues with remaining upright or blood rushing to my head when I was upside down. I spent quite a while hopping from surface to surface doing 3D parkour. Honestly I just needed chakra threads or chains or something and I could probably pull off a convincing Spider-Man.

Well, mostly convincing. I was really only about twice as strong as I would expect Greg's somewhat-unfit body to be in general, with abilities that seemed to rise to Captain America-like levels for bursts when I increased the flow of chakra. I couldn't lift and hold a car up, but with a rush of chakra I could probably manage to flip it.

There was way too much other shit for me to experiment with unless I wanted to waste the whole night, so I contented myself with trying out a comparatively simple water jutsu, the Teppodama/Water Bullet. I didn't seem to dehydrate or need a source of water in the immediate area, and instead of spitting the bullets out they formed at the end of my fingers. Well really it seemed more like I could form them from pretty much any part of me, as I managed to spit one out, and even flung a bullet from my foot in a kick. They seemed equivalent to a moderately-hard punch from me, leaving dents in the sheet metal still laying around.

At that point I was ready to wrap it up for the night. It was getting on 2am and even if it was a Saturday, I'd still need to figure out how to fake being Greg and decide on how to continue from here. So it came as no surprise that on my way back under a henge I heard the sound of a fight. Or almost a fight, as I saw when I hopped a roof and looked over the edge. A small group of skinheads with bats and green-and-red clad asian dudes with batons and knives were squaring off and talking a bunch of shit.

It shouldn't matter to me, but… fuck it, I wanted to play. I hadn't practiced any genjutsu, but since I supposedly had skill with it I pulled out my phone and quickly searched for something that would give me what I was looking for. One fancy-ass sounding 'Demonic Illusion: False Surroundings Technique' later, and the morons down below suddenly had tumbleweeds bouncing past them as the theme from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' played.

Cribbing horribly from a meme I had once read, I henged myself into a different costume as I walked down the wall, illusionary spurs jangling.

"By the tannin' of yer hides, somethin' wicked this way rides!" I intoned. "Draw, pardners."

Pulling my fingers out in a gun shape, I loosed water bullets at the closest targets before flickering behind one of the knife-wielders who was reaching into his coat and slamming a palm into his back sending him off to collide with the wall. A second flicker backwards to get some room and I 'shot' another six-shooter's worth into the still stunned bodies. With a touch of increased chakra flow to my entire body, everyone seemed to react like they were in molasses, just slow enough that I had time to plan my steps.

A third flicker and I realized that while my 'chakra' was probably unlimited, I could only store enough at the moment for a handful of jutsu before I'd be tapped out. I guess I was more like a capacitor than a battery, if I was making metaphors. Nevertheless, I wasn't actually empty yet, so I swept the legs of the guy in front of me and snagged his baton before stepping forward and cracking a skinhead in the arm.

Either I had misjudged my strength, or the baton was crap because it bent, the E88 guy's arm broke, screaming started, and the rest of the gangers tried to run before I managed to put them down by tapping out most of the rest of my chakra with bullets.

Luckily I kept the henge up, as I had barely finished kicking the last conscious guys in the head and rolling them for cash when I felt something tickle my senses. At the end of the alleyway Glory Girl put her sister down and then stared at me, hands on hips. I could feel the buzz of her aura pushing on me but it was merely irritating instead of demanding at the moment.

My chakra had mostly recharged, so I merely tipped my hat. "Evenin' ladies."

"What in the hell is going on here? Who are you?"

I grinned beneath my illusionary mask. "Them Empire boys and the ABB gang were fixin' to have a duel, so I interposed myself in order to resolve their standoff." Absently adjusting the 'xXx' patterned poncho over my left side I eyed the space between the two capes and told myself that what I was thinking of was a dumb fuckin' idea. "And my name? Well little ladies, you can call me…"

With a shunshin to bring me between them I reached out to smack their asses, the noise ringing out like a gunshot.

"Void Cowboy, at your service." And with a flicker I was gone.

AN: This is an upload of the story for people who use ffnet. In some cases I use image, video, or sound links that will not work here. There will be notes on those chapters to point that out. The original versions with multimedia can be found on QuestionableQuesting or AO3 under the same username.

For example, in this chapter, the word 'theme' links to the theme from the movie 'The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.'