UCHIHA JOURNEY TO MULTIVERSE

Time passed, and the seasons changed over Turtle Island. One year had slipped by since the night the Uchiha vanished from Konoha, since the Nine-Tails rampaged and left both Minato and Kushina in deep, unyielding comas. In the Hidden Leaf, the world moved on, but for the exiled Uchiha, everything had changed.

Uchiha Mali, now seven and a half, stood atop a newly formed cliff, wind tugging at his dark hair. The landscape before him was nothing short of a miracle—a sprawling artificial island, easily four times the size of the original Turtle Island, its edges still raw and blackened from the heat of descending celestial stone. For thirty days, the sky had rained fire. Meteorites, called down by his grandfather's legendary Sharingan, had smashed into the sea, one after another, each impact shaking the world and sending up plumes of steam and salt. The clan had watched in awe and terror as the land grew, stone by stone, under the relentless celestial bombardment.

Raigen, Mali's grandfather, had paid the price for this miracle. Each day, after the summoning, he would collapse, clutching his eyes, vision lost to darkness for a full day before slowly returning. The clan whispered about sacrifice and power, about the cost of legends. Yet every morning, Raigen rose again, younger and stronger than the day before, his Sharingan burning with a pattern no one could name.

The new land was vast, but empty—a barren field of cooling stone and scattered craters. Mali knew the real work had just begun. He gathered his council—ten loyal servants, each now a practitioner of his hybrid arts, and a handful of the clan's sharpest minds. They stood in a circle, surveying the land as the first morning mist drifted across the black stone.

We need soil, Mali said, voice steady but urgent. Fresh water, seeds, livestock, tools—everything a real village needs. This is just a skeleton.

Yuto, the youngest of his servants, grinned. We could try hunting sea beasts for food, but I don't think they'll lay eggs for us.

The group laughed, tension easing. Mali turned to his grandfather, who stood quietly at the edge of the group, his eyes covered by a strip of cloth. Grandpa, how long until you can see again?

Raigen smiled, weary but proud. Another hour, maybe two. You've done well, Mali. This land is proof of our will.

But the meteorite showers had not gone unnoticed. Far to the north, in the drifting mists of the sea, Hidden Cloud scouts watched the sky with growing alarm. Reports filtered back to Kumogakure: a new landmass, unnatural and massive, had appeared near Turtle Island—the very place where, years later, the Raikage would hide Killer Bee and Naruto from the Akatsuki. Now, the island was a beacon, a mystery, and a potential threat.

Mali knew they would come. He gathered his council that night in the half-built great hall, firelight flickering over stone walls and faces drawn with fatigue and hope.

We need to send a team to the nearest market, Mali said. We can't live on fish and seaweed forever. We need seeds, saplings, livestock, tools—everything. And we need to be careful. The world is watching.

His ten servants nodded. Each had changed over the year—bodies hardened by gravity training in the deep sea, minds sharpened by meditation and Qi-chakra fusion, senses heightened by Mali's unique blend of Nen, Haki, and Uchiha discipline. They were no longer just followers; they were pioneers, each with their own strengths and stories.

Yuto volunteered first. I'll go. I can blend in with the traders, and I know how to haggle.

Mali smiled. Take two others. Don't draw attention. If you see anyone from the Hidden Cloud, avoid them at all costs.

The next day, as the sun rose, the three set out in a small boat, heading for the nearest market town—a bustling port on the edge of the Land of Lightning's influence. Mali watched them go, heart pounding with both hope and dread.

Back on the island, the clan worked tirelessly. Mali led the effort to break up meteorite stone, mixing it with sand and seaweed to create the first patches of arable soil. He taught the children how to meditate, to sense the flow of Qi and chakra in the land, to coax life from barren rock. Each night, the clan gathered for meals of roasted eel and sea greens, laughter echoing across the new land.

Raigen recovered slowly, his vision returning each day just in time to watch the sunset. The clan revered him now—some with awe, others with fear. Mali saw the toll it took, the way his grandfather's hands sometimes shook, the way he stared into the fire as if searching for something lost.

One evening, as the stars blinked above the new island, Mali sat beside Raigen on a high ridge, the sea whispering below.

Do you regret it? Mali asked quietly.

Raigen shook his head. No. This is our home now. But power always has a price, Mali. Remember that.

Mali nodded, thinking of the future—of the fields yet to be planted, the wells yet to be dug, the dangers yet to come from the world beyond the sea.

A week later, Yuto and his team returned, boats laden with sacks of seed, young saplings, crates of chickens and goats, barrels of fresh water, and bundles of tools. They brought news, too: rumors of the "island of falling stars" had spread, and ninja from the Land of Lightning were asking questions.

We need to be ready, Mali told his council. The Hidden Cloud will come, sooner or later. We must be strong, united, and unseen.

The next months were a blur of work and growth. The clan planted the first fields, built irrigation channels, and carved homes from the black stone. Children learned to swim and fish, to climb and fight, to meditate and mold chakra. Mali's servants became teachers, passing on the arts of Qi, Nen, and Haki to the next generation.

Raigen, his strength slowly returning, watched it all with pride and worry. He knew the world would not leave them in peace forever.

One night, as a storm rolled in from the east, Mali stood on the highest cliff, watching lightning dance over the sea.