Chapter 1: Magu-Magu no mi
Konoha, 56th Year. June.
Deep within a secluded training ground, nestled near the banks of the Naka River, the air crackled with the sounds of conflict.
A boy with dark gray hair, his clothes damp with sweat, was locked in a fierce battle. His opponent was not a stranger or a rival clansman, but a perfect copy of himself—a Shadow Clone. They moved in a synchronized, brutal dance of kicks and punches, each block and counterattack echoing through the clearing. With a final, sharp exchange of blows, the clone vanished in a puff of white smoke, leaving the original boy panting heavily, his chest heaving.
"It's still not enough. This level of strength is completely insufficient!" the boy muttered, his voice thick with frustration as he wiped a sleeve across his brow. "This might be enough to stand against a Chunin, but how is it supposed to save me during the 'Night of the Uchiha Massacre' just one month from now?"
His name was Uchiha Naoki, and he was thirteen years old.
Three months ago, his consciousness had awakened in this body, a stranger in a familiar skin. The initial disorientation, however, was swiftly crushed by a chilling realization: he had arrived a mere thirty days before one of the most tragic events in Konoha's history. The certainty of his own demise in that coming storm was a cold weight in his gut. He was far too weak.
Fortunately, on his second day in this new world, his desperation had been answered. He awakened his golden finger—the "Traveling Frog System." As the name suggested, the system would periodically dispatch a small, intrepid frog to traverse the multiverse. Upon its return, the frog would bring back random souvenirs from its journeys: rare abilities, powerful weapons, or incredible skills. The duration of each trip was unpredictable, lasting anywhere from a single week to multiple years.
Two months ago, thanks to the frog's first journey, he had received the Ninjutsu scroll for the Shadow Clone technique. It had become the cornerstone of his frantic training.
"But how are Shadow Clones alone enough to guarantee my survival?" he grumbled to the empty forest. His current power plateaued at the low Chunin level, a testament to his original body's limitations. The progress felt agonizingly slow. "I wonder when that frog will return? It's been completely silent for over two months now."
With a weary sigh, he decided to call it a day. But just as he turned to leave, a distinctly synthetic chime echoed directly within his mind.
[Ding. The traveling frog has returned from its journey. Please collect your special product.]
"Collect!" Naoki commanded without a moment's hesitation.
The space in front of him shimmered and distorted, the air itself seeming to fold. Then, with a subtle pop, a single fruit materialized in his outstretched hands. It was a grotesque, beautiful thing; its skin was a deep, bloody red, swirled with a pattern that resembled flowing, liquid magma. Even just holding it, he could feel an obscure, scorching heat radiating from within, a dormant power waiting to be unleashed.
Naoki's pupils contracted to pinpoints. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of hope and disbelief.
Thump-thump! Thump-thump!
"Is this... can this really be the 'Magma Fruit'?" he gulped, his mouth suddenly dry with a mixture of ecstasy and trepidation.
As if in response, a translucent, blue light screen materialized before his eyes.
[Item: Magma Fruit]
[Source: One Piece World]
[Introduction: A Natural-Type Devil Fruit, renowned as possessing the highest offensive power amongst its kind. When developed to its extreme, its power is capable of causing catastrophes on a global scale. The system has removed the inherent weakness of the fruit. Upon consumption, the user will no longer fear sea water or sea-stone.]
Uchiha Naoki's fists clenched involuntarily, his knuckles turning white. A fierce, triumphant joy surged through him. "As expected of my system. It's truly incredible!"
For the first time since his arrival, the suffocating anxiety about the future loosened its grip. He finally had a real chance.
[Your traveling frog is preparing for a new journey. Host, we wish you a happy life.]
Taking a deep, steadying breath to calm his racing heart, Naoki brought the fruit to his lips and bit down decisively.
The taste was, as legends warned, indescribably foul, like chewing on ashes and rotten chemicals mixed with pure bitterness. He forced himself to swallow.
But then, the transformation began.
A torrent of raw, alien power erupted from his core, flooding every cell in his body. He could feel his very chakra network expanding, the pathways broadening to accommodate a rapidly increasing, fiercely refined chakra. His flesh and blood seemed to be set ablaze from the inside, a purifying, agonizing fire. His skin flushed a deep red, and plumes of hot steam began to rise from his body. Then, his hands bubbled and shifted, transforming into viscous, glowing-orange magma, dripping onto the grass below with a sharp hiss and filling the air with the pungent scent of sulfur and gunpowder.
"This is the power of the Magma Fruit... What an incredible feeling!" he exclaimed, his voice a low rumble. He clenched his molten fist, feeling a destructive force coursing through him that felt capable of punching straight through a Jonin.
"Great Eruption!"
Mimicking the posture of the fruit's previous user, 'Sakazuki,' from his memories, he thrust his fist forward. A massive, searing glob of magma shot forth, roaring through the air. It struck a thick tree—one that would take three men to embrace—and blasted a smoldering, gaping hole clean through its trunk before continuing on to slam into a second tree, its power only then dissipating. The vegetation along the path was instantly scorched black and incinerated.
"The destructive force is nearly comparable to a high-level Fire Release jutsu from a Jonin. And this is just the beginning?" Naoki marveled, a slow grin spreading across his face. "It's really, truly amazing."
The confidence to survive the coming night now felt like a solid, tangible thing within him.
"My next steps are to strengthen my physical body and increase my total chakra reserves," he decided aloud. The stronger his foundation, the more devastating the power of the fruit would become. In the current climate, with the entire Uchiha clan under surveillance, honing this hidden, non-chakra-based ability was his perfect path to power without drawing unwanted attention from the likes of Danzo. For now, he would develop its applications by following the path Sakazuki had already paved.
"Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique!"
He formed the familiar hand signs and exhaled a massive, searing fireball. It slammed into the surrounding trees, expertly obscuring the unique, molten damage left by the magma with more conventional, Uchiha-style destruction. Until he was stronger, it was best to keep this ultimate trump card completely hidden.
He was about to leave when a strange clarity in his vision gave him pause. He blinked, and the world seemed sharper, details leaping out at him with impossible precision. It was a sensation he had only read about.
"Wait... my eyes. They feel different."
He brought a hand to his face, a cold realization dawning. When he had been channeling the fruit's power, his perception had been unnaturally acute. That could mean only one thing.
His expression turning grim, he hurried to the edge of the Naka River and knelt, peering at his reflection in the water.
"Just as I thought," he whispered, a slow, triumphant smile curving his lips as he stared at the face in the water. "The Sharingan has truly awakened. I didn't expect such an unexpected bonus from consuming the Devil Fruit."
Staring back at him were a pair of eyes now graced with a single tomoe spinning in each crimson pupil.
He had no reason to delay. For the rest of the afternoon, he practiced, pushing his new visual prowess. By dusk, he could activate and deactivate the Sharingan at will and had gained a basic, fluid mastery over its enhanced perception. The world moved in slow, predictable patterns around him.
Now, armed with both the devastating power of magma and the predictive sight of the Sharingan, his confidence in facing the Night of the Massacre was no longer just hope—it was a plan.
He dragged his exhausted, but hopeful, body back towards the Uchiha compound. As an orphan, he lived alone in the small, quiet house left behind by this body's parents.
The Next Day.
Naoki returned to his training ground at dawn, ready to continue his grueling regimen. But the moment he arrived, his eyes, now capable of perceiving the slightest detail, took in the scene and turned cold.
His training equipment—the wooden posts, the weighted logs—was utterly destroyed. Deep, charred gouges marred the wood, the work of a Fire Release technique, deliberately and maliciously applied.
And the perpetrator was still there. A short-haired Uchiha youth, about sixteen or seventeen, leaned casually against a splintered post. It was Uchiha Tensho.
Seeing Naoki approach, the older boy put on a mockingly regretful face. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Your training equipment is just too shoddy, Naoki. I was just testing it out for you, and it all fell apart. You really can't blame me for that."
He grinned, a cruel, predatory expression that held no apology. "Well, to make it up to you, how about I give you some personal sparring practice instead?"
Without waiting for a reply, Tensho lunged forward, his open palm aiming to deliver a stinging slap to Naoki's face. It was not an offer to spar; it was a blatant insult, a move designed to humiliate.
Naoki's frown deepened. He took a swift, graceful step back, easily evading the slap. His voice, when he spoke, was low and dangerously calm. "Uchiha Tensho. Don't you think you're going too far? You deliberately destroy my property, and now you assault me? Do you truly believe I have no temper left?"
Uchiha Tensho had been a bully to this body since childhood. In fact, it was a severe beating from Tensho and his lackeys three months ago that had ultimately led to the original Naoki's fatal injuries and his own transmigration. Since arriving, Naoki had deliberately avoided all conflict, seeking out this secluded spot specifically to train in peace and prepare for the real threat. But Tensho, like a bad smell, had found him, pushing and prodding, unable to leave his favorite target in peace.
This, Naoki decided, was beyond tolerating.
"Hahaha! You? A temper?" Tensho sneered, the sound harsh and grating. "A trash like you, talking about having a temper?"
His face abruptly twisted into a ruthless mask. "It seems the lesson from three months ago wasn't thorough enough. Did you think hiding in this remote spot would save you from me? Hmph! It looks like I need to give you a proper reminder of your place!"