Prologue: Aemula
Before the chaos, before the masked man and the fox spirit tore the village apart, before war took everything from him — there was silence. And within that silence, a boy stood alone.
Uchiha Akira never knew his parents. He only knew whispers — that they were shinobi, that they died protecting the village. No records. No grave. Just a name passed to him by the elders of the orphanage, and the cold eyes of villagers who seemed unsure whether to pity or fear him. There was always something... off about Akira.
He was a prodigy, yes. But his chakra felt different. Wilder. And when he touched technology—salvaged scraps of radio parts, ancient scrolls that others dismissed—he could see connections no one else could. Machines spoke to him. Jutsu bent strangely in his hands. Not broken, just... different.
It made him a loner. Until her.
Asenari was born a servant to the Hyūga main house, yet carried herself with quiet dignity. She had none of the Byakugan but all of the fire. She saw through Akira's silence, saw the storm beneath his cold facade. She was also the first to believe in him, and the first to witness the strange man who fell from the sky.
Rick. Not from any clan, not even from this world. Reeking of alcohol, blood, and burnt circuits. Mortally wounded, muttering names that meant nothing—"Morty", "Beth", "Dimension N9-A"—as he fell unconscious in the woods near the academy.
Akira dragged him back, Asenari healed him. And in that moment, something changed.
Because Rick opened his eyes, looked at the two of them, and saw potential.
Aemula. The imitation. The rival. The echo of something great yet to come. This was how it began — not with explosions or legends, but with three broken people finding each other in the shadows of a village too blind to see.
And none of them knew it yet, but the path they'd take would alter not just Konoha… but the fabric of worlds themselves.