Sacred Gear Shadow Light

Shadow Light

Chapter 49

Second Heartbeat

"Think they'll manage?" Naruto asked, his tone thoughtful.

Red snorted, his molten-gold eyes narrowing slightly. "Kurama's got enough power to level a dimension, and Aethra knows what she's doing. The real question is what's going to wake up while they're gone."

Naruto nodded, his gaze drifting outward toward the churning expanse of the Dimensional Gap. The swirling void rippled faintly, its chaotic energy as unpredictable as ever. For a moment, everything seemed calm, the stillness settling over them like a fragile truce.

But then, without warning, Naruto's Sacred Gear pulsed.

The first sign was subtle—a faint vibration in the air, a low thrum that resonated deep in his core. But within seconds, the pulse grew stronger, Skiadrum's dark essence and the luminous energy of the light half awakening in tandem. The sudden convergence sent a wave of energy rippling outward, distorting the air around Naruto as though reality itself were bending to acknowledge the shift.

Naruto's eyes widened slightly, his body tensing as the power within him began to churn uncontrollably. A deep, resonant hum filled the space, and the swirling void of the Dimensional Gap shuddered, the chaotic expanse reacting to the surge of energy.

Red's head snapped toward Naruto, his draconic eyes narrowing sharply. "What's this now?" he muttered, his tail lashing against the void impatiently. "Naruto, your power—"

Before he could finish, a brilliant aura erupted from Naruto's form, enveloping him in a cascade of shadow and light. The transformation was instantaneous, the energy radiating from him so intense that it forced Red to take a cautious step back, his wings flaring instinctively.

The shadows of Naruto's Sacred Gear recoiled, it's dark essence coiling like a serpent ready to flee. The luminous energy of the light half surged forward, a blinding cascade of radiance that seemed to pierce through the swirling void around them. The two forces clashed within Naruto's form, their opposing natures vying for dominance in a struggle that reverberated through the very fabric of the Dimensional Gap.

With Shikamaru, Underworld

Shikamaru stretched his arms behind his head as he emerged from the swirling void of the Dimensional Gap, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly against the flickering light of his residence. The transition back was seamless—too seamless, he thought grimly—but the weight of the past few hours clung to him like a second skin. The air around him was still faintly charged with residual energy, the kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was a reminder that even the simplest return from the Gap was never entirely simple.

As Falbium, Commander of the Devil Army, his life was already a tangled mess of strategies, political games, and the constant tightrope walk of maintaining a semblance of order in a world that seemed determined to spiral into chaos. Yet nothing had prepared him for the whirlwind that was Naruto, a blonde anomaly who seemed to thrive on dismantling every sense of normalcy Shikamaru tried to cling to.

"Why did he have to find me again?" he muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration as he stepped into the quiet solitude of his chambers. The soft click of the door shutting behind him was oddly jarring in the stillness. His quarters were pristine, meticulously organized—an intentional contrast to the whirlwind of chaos that had defined his recent hours. The faint hum of magic in the air, ever-present in this world, was muted here, creating a sanctuary of calm. Yet even this space couldn't drown out the echoes of what had just happened.

Leaning against the edge of his desk, Shikamaru's sharp mind turned over the events of the night like a puzzle he didn't particularly want to solve. The sheer power unleashed in the Dimensional Gap, and the strange gratitude of Aethra all pointed to one undeniable truth: things were about to get much worse before they got better.And that was if they got better at all.

Naruto and Red. Those two names alone were enough to give him a headache. Naruto, with his unrelenting energy and impossible determination, had an uncanny ability to turn the world on its head. And Red, the arrogant dragon who treated the multiverse like his personal playground, was somehow both infuriating and unnervingly reliable in equal measure. Between them, they were a walking storm system, dragging everyone into their vortex of chaos and now leaving Shikamaru to clean up the aftermath.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as his lips twitched into a faint, humorless smirk. "I'm surrounded by maniacs. The responsible kind, if that's even a thing," he muttered dryly. "And now I'm supposed to manage the fallout of this mess."

The Underworld would be in an uproar soon—if it wasn't already. The initial outburst from Red, Aethra's uncontrolled exposure then the unleashed power of Kurama, and the sheer audacity of everything that had happened in the Dimensional Gap would fuel panic like gasoline on a fire. He could already picture the whispers spiraling out of control: nobles clutching their pearls, political rivals exploiting the chaos, and the general population teetering on the edge of hysteria.

And his friends would bear the brunt of it. Sirzechs would be forced to juggle the impossible task of keeping order while maintaining the veneer of calm and authority. Serafall would have to plaster on her brightest smile while dealing with questions, rumors, and the quiet terror of those under her protection. Ajuka would no doubt be holed up in his lab, muttering equations and devising contingencies for the coming storm. They were all brilliant, strong, and capable, but Shikamaru didn't envy them—not one bit.

"Sirzechs will have his hands full with the nobles. Serafall will probably be hosting tea parties just to keep everyone from panicking. And Ajuka… well, he'll be fine. Probably." Shikamaru shook his head, his tone dry. "Meanwhile, I'm stuck with the cleanup." Unofficially of course.

For a brief moment, his gaze drifted toward the bed at the far end of the room. It was an anomaly in his otherwise spartan quarters—a gift from Ajuka, crafted from a material so soft and weightless it felt like sinking into a cloud. The memory of the Civil War flickered through his mind, a time of blood, strife, and victory that had somehow forged strange bonds. Ajuka had given him the bed as a token of gratitude, a rare gesture of camaraderie in a world that rarely afforded such luxuries. Whenever he collapsed onto it, the rest of the world melted away, as though its weight was lifted for just a little while.

Shikamaru took a step toward his bed, hoping that the soft, cloud-like haven Ajuka had gifted him might offer a shred of relief after the chaos of the Dimensional Gap. The idea of sinking into its weightless embrace, forgetting the swirling madness of the past hours, was tantalizing. He reached for it, but a sudden, sharp sensation in his chest stopped him cold.

His hand flew to his chest as a faint pressure coiled around his heart. At first, it was manageable, like the kind of stress-induced tightness he'd felt during countless strategy meetings or battlefield decisions. He dismissed it, muttering, "Not now…" under his breath. But the sensation didn't fade; it grew heavier, more insistent, like invisible hands closing around his heart with deliberate, cruel intent.

His breathing hitched as the pressure turned to pain. A sharp, searing agony lanced through his chest, bringing him to his knees. His free hand slammed against the floor to steady himself, but his vision wavered. His mind scrambled for answers, instincts kicking in even as the pain worsened. This wasn't a curse; it wasn't poison or some external attack. It was something inside him—something intimate and invasive.

"Damn it," he hissed through clenched teeth, his thoughts sharpening despite the agony. He forced his breathing to slow, focusing on his training. Panic would only make it worse. With a trembling hand, he began weaving barriers, wrapping them tightly around his heart. The constructs weren't perfect; they were rushed and crude, but they served their purpose. Bit by bit, the pain dulled, the barriers muting his heart's connection to his pain receptors.

Shikamaru sagged against the cool floor, his body trembling from the exertion. The relief was temporary, but it gave him enough clarity to think. "What… is this?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.

"Oracis,"Shikamaru called out, his tone a mixture of frustration and demand. "I know you're there. Start talking."

The response wasn't immediate. Oracis didn't rush, didn't flare with dramatic energy or external force—it simply existed, quietly pervasive, as it always had. Shikamaru could feel its presence now, integrated seamlessly into his very being, observing and calculating.

"What's happening to me?" he pressed, gritting his teeth as a residual pulse of pain pushed against his barriers. His voice dropped, frustration creeping in. "I need answers."

Oracis's reply came, steady and matter-of-fact, as if it had been waiting for him to ask. The sins must be borne.

Shikamaru's brow furrowed, irritation flashing through him despite his weakened state. "Sins? Borne? What?"

Oracis didn't respond immediately. Shikamaru could sense it reaching, extending—not outward but inward, as if consulting some part of itself that lay beyond his reach. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the faint hum of magic in the room and the dull ache still thrumming in his chest.

Finally, Oracis spoke again. The prayers have been answered.

Shikamaru stilled, his mind reeling at the cryptic response. Prayers?He let the words roll over him, dissecting them, turning them over in his mind. Who had prayed? Who had been answered? And why was he—of all people—the one suffering for it? If he had paid attention, he could have heard the numerous pained cries from all over the Underworld.

As the seconds ticked by, an unsettling realization began to take shape. The faint pulse of energy within him wasn't just random. It wasn't disconnected. It felt… familiar, in a way that sent a chill down his spine. A name rose unbidden to his lips, his voice a breathless whisper.

"God!"

The connection was tenuous but undeniable. Shikamaru's sharp mind, even dulled by pain, couldn't ignore the truth threading its way through his thoughts. Whatever was happening, whatever Oracis was now entangled in—it was tied to Biblical God and in turn- Naruto. Of course it was.The blonde magnet for chaos and catastrophes had once again pulled him into the storm.

The thought sparked a flicker of irritation, enough to push him to his feet. He swayed, his body still trembling, but he steadied himself with a hand against the edge of his desk. His barriers still held, dampening the worst of the pain, but he knew they wouldn't last forever. He'd bought himself time—time to figure out what Naruto had done and why it was now bleeding over into him.

"Damn you, Naruto," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "What the hell have you gotten us into this time?"

Oracis remained silent, its presence calm but unwavering. Whatever answers it theorised, it wasn't offering them freely—not yet. Shikamaru would have to dig deeper, piece the puzzle together on his own. He glanced toward his bed, its soft embrace now mocking him with the promise of rest he couldn't take. Rest would have to wait. Answers came first. They always did.

And Cut!

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