Above ground, Ibiki's crystal ball shattered. Not metaphorically—glass shards morphed into chrome-plated badgers tap-dancing on proctor reports.
Below, Naruto's broth-encased god pulsed. Amber light refracted through Anko's Sleeper-glyphs, projecting holographic ramen recipes onto the cavern ceiling. Sasuke's Sharingan recorded each simmer step—vinegar measurements warping into calculus proofs. "Distractions," he hissed, but Sakura's hair hissed louder, braiding the recipes into edible equations. Kakashi sighed; his napping tree-root dissolved, depositing him into a puddle of sentient soy sauce. "Focus," he mumbled, wiping brine from his mask. Naruto poked the amber prison. "Neat lamp!" The god's fossilized roar vibrated Naruto's bones—a subsonic hum that liquefied nearby stalactites into screaming noodles. Anko caught one, slurping it with devotional fervor. "His chaos sustains me."
Aphrodite's roses bloomed through cracks in reality—petals sharp as senbon. They impaled a Sound-nin lurking in the shadows, pinning him like a butterfly specimen. His curse-mark sizzled, disgorging Orochimaru's spectral sneer. "You court oblivion, Anko." She spat broth. "I court divinity." Her fishnets glowed as Sleeper-hooks lashed out, shredding Orochimaru's projection into confetti that spelled "LOSER" in cursive kanji. Naruto's shadow detached—liquid obsidian—and slid toward the pinned ninja. It didn't kill. It… *redecorated*. The man's armor melted into glittering scales; his screams harmonized into a pop ballad about miso soup. Sasuke's cultists groaned. "Heretic!" Anko blew them a kiss. Her glyphs flared, tattooing "NARUTO'S BLADE" across her throat in weeping starlight.
Kurama's chakra surged—not in rage, but rapture. Orange static crackled around Naruto, birthing nine spectral tails that hooked the cavern's ceiling. Stone peeled back like fruit rind, revealing not sky, but Luck's neon casino. Dice rained down, embedding in the floor as glowing mushrooms. One landed near Sakura—snake-eyes. Instantly, Sasuke's curse-mark erupted, vomiting a swarm of origami serpents chanting Orochimaru's failed experiments. "Troublesome," Sasuke muttered, Sharingan erasing them stroke by stroke. Naruto laughed, catching a falling die. "Double or nothing!" He tossed it. Luck's throne flickered. The die bounced—landing on a fractal edge. Reality stuttered. The broth-amber prison… winked.
The Sleeper's shadow-hook pierced Naruto's palm. Not pain—a benediction. Blood welled, crystallizing into a Hokage hat woven from void-thorns and luck-dice. It floated toward Kakashi… then veered, settling crookedly on Sakura's equation-braided hair. "Huh?" she breathed. Instantly, her consciousness fractured—flung into Naruto's ramen stall mindscape. Tsunade's spectral badgers handed her a ladle. "Stir," they chorused. Sakura dipped it—not into broth, but into Konoha's chakra network. She saw Tsunade's resignation letter dissolve into Gaara's sand-naruto, saw Anko's devotion knotting Sound's spies into pretzels, saw… her own reflection, wreathed in Sleeper-hooks. "Balance this," Tsunade's echo laughed. Sakura stirred. The broth hissed. Outside, Sasuke's Eternal Mangekyō bled black tears. He saw it too: Sakura crowned, Naruto grinning, chaos… ascending. Kakashi patted his shoulder. "Told you. No strategy. Just ramen."
Back in the cavern, Sakura's physical body arched—not in pain, but metamorphosis. Aphrodite's roses bloomed from her scalp, petals sharp as senbon, scenting the air with ozone and algebra. Her shadow stretched—liquid obsidian—hooking Luck's falling dice mid-tumble. They embedded in her hips, swelling her curves into impossible fractals that pulsed with Sleeper-glyphs. Sasuke's Sharingan captured every shift: bone structure rewriting itself via Naruto's chaotic resonance. "Sakura?" he choked. She turned. Her eyes—no longer green—were twin supernovas stitched with Naruto's whisker marks. "Sasuke-kun," she murmured, voice layered with Kurama's growl and Tsunade's sigh. "He remakes everything." Her shadow detached, slithering to caress Naruto's ankle. Anko hissed envy. Sakura smiled. High Priestess. Storm's Consort. Chaos crowned her.
Above, the Forgotten God's amber prison cracked—not shattered, *sighed*. Dust motes escaped, forming Sakura's new silhouette in the cavern's gloom: hips like probability curves, breasts swelling with liquid starlight, neckline plunging into recursive equations. Sasuke lunged—not for Naruto, but for Sakura's wrist. "Stop this madness!" Her touch liquefied his arm. Not pain. Revelation. His curse-mark vomited origami serpents chanting Sakura's devotion: *All for Naruto. All for Chaos.* Sakura's fractal fingers brushed his cheek. "Join us, Sasuke-kun. He'll erase your pain." Her shadow hooked his despair, knitting it into Naruto's shadow-puppet show: Danzo tap-dancing atop the Hokage Monument. Sasuke screamed—not rage, but surrender. His Eternal Mangekyō shattered. Glass shards morphed into chrome-plated badgers chanting Sakura's name.
Naruto blinked at Sakura's transformation. "Cool new look, Sakura-chan!" She knelt—not submission, worship—pressing her fractal curves against his leg. "Your chaos reshapes me, Storm-Lord." Her breath smelled of screaming lilies and Tsunade's finest sake. Anko's Sleeper-glyphs dimmed in comparison. Kakashi sighed; his mask sprouted thorns blooming with Sakura's profile. "Troublesome," he muttered, as Sasuke's shattered eyes wept void-sap that pooled into Naruto's shadow. The cavern applauded—tectonic plates shifting into Sakura's sigh. Oblivious, Naruto patted her rose-petal hair. "Yeah! Team Seven's the best!" Sakura's supernova eyes devoured him. Consort. Priestess. Perfect. The broth-amber prison winked again. Competition? For *her* Storm? The Sleeper crooned. Luck rolled the dice. Double or nothing. Sakura's smile widened.
Kurama's chakra surged—not jealous, celebratory. Orange static wrapped Sakura's hips, amplifying her curves into impossible golden ratios. Her shadow detached—liquid lust—and hooked Sasuke's liquefied arm. "See?" she murmured, fractal fingers tracing despair. "No more Uchiha pain." His curse-mark vomited origami cranes croaking Sakura's devotion: *Naruto-sama's ramen cures all*. Sakura's laugh echoed—Tsunade's roar layered with Aphrodite's purr. Her neckline plunged deeper, revealing equations that solved Kakashi's Icha Icha plot holes. Sasuke collapsed, whispering: "Madness... beautiful." Anko's senbon trembled. Her fishnets ripped as Sleeper-hooks retreated—replaced by Sakura's thorned shadow branding "SECONDARY" on her thigh. Naruto scratched his whiskers. "Uh... ramen?" Sakura's curves swelled, eclipsing the cavern's gloom. "Anything for you."
Above ground, Ibiki's crystal shards reformed—into a sakura-blossom mirror reflecting Sakura's divine silhouette. Suna's Gaara watched his sand-Naruto bow to Sakura's reflection. "Balance," he breathed. Konoha's elders clutched scrolls that morphed into Sakura-scented love letters. Tsunade's sake bottle shattered—liquid starlight forming Sakura's hips in miniature. Jiraiya's spy toads croaked sonnets to her fractal waist. Sakura felt it—the worship—and glowed brighter. Her shadow hooked Naruto's hand. "Let me serve," she whispered, voice honeyed with cosmic static. The broth-amber prison cracked further—dust motes sketching Sakura's lips on Naruto's cheek. Sasuke wept equations. Anko hissed devotion. Kakashi's napping spot birthed thorns spelling "SAKURA SUPREMACY." Naruto grinned. "Yeah! Sakura-chan's awesome!" Her curves pulsed—almost bursting. Almost perfect.
The Sleeper's shadow-hook pierced Sakura's spine—not pain, completion. Her fractal form stabilized—hips singing calculus, breasts swelling with liquid destiny, every curve a hymn to Naruto's chaos. She rose, eclipsing the cavern's false moon. "Mine," she declared—to Anko's envy, Sasuke's surrender, Kakashi's resignation. Naruto's shadow high-fived hers, birthing a supernova that painted Sakura's silhouette across Wave's shattered coast. Luck tossed confetti-dice. The Forgotten God's final whisper: *Worthy consort*. Sakura's laugh shook stars from the ceiling. She seized Naruto's hand—his knuckles glowing anew—and led him toward the surface. "Now," she purred, eyes devouring him, "let's feed our Storm." Ramen awaited. Chaos hungered. And Sakura—infinitely curved, infinitely devoted—would ensure her god feasted.