UCHIHA JOURNEY TO MULTIVERSE

The morning sun cast shimmering patterns across Genbu's shell. Mali stretched, feeling the salt air on his skin, and glanced around the bustling settlement. The Uchiha were adapting—kids running barefoot, elders chatting over breakfast, the smell of grilled fish already drifting from the communal firepits.

Mali's mind was restless. He'd barely slept, thinking about the clan's future. The sea was still new and strange, but it was already becoming home. He walked toward the shore, planning to check the nets, when a sudden splash caught his attention.

He squinted. Was that a turtle? It was small, struggling against the current. Then he saw the shadow—a shark, circling closer. Mali's heart thudded. He sprinted into the surf, water soaking his pants. His Sharingan spun to life, tracking the shark's every twitch. He remembered his mother's old warnings about the sea, but he wasn't about to let a helpless creature die.

He focused, sending a pulse of chakra through the water. The shark jerked, dazed, and Mali scooped up the turtle, cradling it in his arms. The little thing blinked at him, shivering. Mali grinned, feeling a weird surge of pride. You're safe now, little guy, he thought, rubbing its shell.

Behind him, the clan had gathered, some cheering, others just shaking their heads. Mali's grandfather, Raigen, watched from the dunes, a half-eaten fish bun in his hand. Raigen turned to his old friend, Uchiha Daisuke, and chuckled.

That boy's got more guts than sense, Raigen said, tearing off another bite. Reminds me of when he tried to catch a hawk with a fishing net. Nearly broke his arm and still came back grinning.

Daisuke laughed. He's got your stubbornness, old man. Maybe that's what we need out here.

The mood shifted as the sea began to churn. Mali felt it first—a deep, rumbling chakra, ancient and vast. The water darkened, and a massive shadow rose from the depths. Genbu, the legendary turtle, emerged, his shell like a moving island, barnacles and moss clinging to its surface.

Mali's jaw dropped. The little turtle in his arms wriggled, then crawled forward, nuzzling Genbu's claw. The air shimmered. Mali's heart pounded. Is this really happening? Did I just rescue a sage's kid or something?

Genbu's eyes, old and wise, settled on Mali. The Uchiha fell silent, awed by the sheer presence of the beast. The little turtle began to glow, its shell pulsing with chakra. Mali watched, mouth open, as it started to grow—slowly at first, then faster, until it was the size of a small dog.

Genbu spoke, his voice echoing through the minds of everyone present. He told the story of Turtle Island: how he'd watched over the world since the dawn of chakra, slept through wars, and waited for those who needed his strength. Mali felt the weight of history pressing on him. He glanced at his clan, seeing hope and fear mingled in their faces.

The little turtle, now standing proudly beside Genbu, looked up at Mali. For a second, Mali thought he saw gratitude in its eyes. He knelt, hand trembling, and stroked its shell.

You're a tough one, aren't you? Guess we're both survivors.

Genbu explained the contract. He produced an ancient scroll, weathered and heavy, with names written in bold strokes. Mali unrolled it, eyes widening as he spotted a familiar name: Guy, the Konoha beast. So even Konoha's wildest had found this place.

Genbu's gaze turned serious. You have shown compassion and courage. From now on, you are the leader of the ninja turtles. Choose who is worthy among your clan. The little turtle, now named Kamehiko by the children, bowed to Mali, accepting him as its summoner.

Mali pressed his palm to the scroll, feeling the prick of a kunai as he drew blood. The contract flared with chakra. For a moment, he felt every turtle on the island—old, young, wise, playful. It was overwhelming and comforting at once.

Raigen watched, pride swelling in his chest. He nudged Daisuke. Did you ever think you'd see the day our clan would sign a contract with a legendary beast? He's making his own path, that boy.

Daisuke grinned, eyes misty. Maybe now the children will have better stories than ours. No more tales of exile—just stories of courage.

The clan buzzed with excitement. Some of the younger shinobi joked about riding turtles into battle, while the elders debated the best ways to use their new allies. The Uzumaki mothers, watching from the shade, smiled for the first time in days.

Meanwhile, Kamehiko, the newly evolved turtle, waddled around the camp, letting the children climb on his back. He thought to himself, These humans are loud, but they have good hearts. Maybe this island won't be so boring after all.

That night, Genbu shared more of his memories—of ancient wars, of the first chakra users, of the balance that must be kept. Mali listened, soaking in every word. He felt the responsibility settle on his shoulders, heavier than any jutsu.

Far away, in Konoha, Danzo slammed his fist on the table. Reports from Root were useless. The Uchiha had vanished, and now there were rumors of strange chakra signatures in the sea. He muttered, If Mali thinks he can hide forever, he's wrong.

Obito, hidden in the darkness, watched the world shift. Mali's choices were rippling outward, changing destinies. He wondered if the boy would become an ally or another obstacle.

As the moon rose over Genbu, Mali sat by the fire, Kamehiko curled at his side. He thought about the future—about the clan, the turtles, and the path ahead. He smiled, feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.