Naruto : Sequence 0 Visionary

The black sedan sped through the heavy rain, the wind and rain slamming against the windshield, the sound of the raindrops striking like a fast-paced piano piece.

At 275 kilometers per hour, the roar of the engine nearly drowned out the sound of the rain outside.

The middle-aged man driving the car gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, pressing the accelerator to the floor with his right foot. 

The veins around his eyes bulged like restless snakes, and his pupils gleamed with a golden light, burning with intense heat. His gaze was fixed on the road ahead.

"Hold on tight, son."

The man turned to look at the boy in the passenger seat, his face as hard as iron, but softened just a little. "Don't be afraid, I'm here."

His slightly magnetic voice calmed the boy's fear, easing the unease in his heart.

However, outside the speeding black sedan, in the depths of the dark, stormy night, something unknown seemed to be approaching. Shadows appeared one after another, creeping closer under the cover of rain, moving silently like ghosts, their eyes watching the two people inside the car from above, through the rain-soaked windows.

Sharp nails scraped across the car door, creating an eerie sound that could be clearly heard.

Then, the sound changed to loud knocks on the door, starting soft and getting heavier, until the entire car shook with each hit. 

More and more shadows appeared in the distance, hundreds, maybe thousands, from all directions. They stood silently, their cold and cruel eyes fixed on the two people inside.

Suddenly, the boy screamed in pain, clutching his head and curling up.

The man beside him briefly glanced away, reaching out with a large hand to gently stroke the boy's hair. His rough palm confused the boy, but he said nothing.

Instead, the man looked at him with a complex expression, one that seemed to be a mix of sadness and relief.

"Buckle up, hold tight."

As soon as the man finished speaking, he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and sharply turned the steering wheel.

The tires screeched as they rubbed violently against the asphalt, making an awful noise. Rainwater sprayed up, and even through the window, the boy could almost smell the burning rubber. The car suddenly swerved and drifted, charging directly into the shadows.

The car, weighing several tons, swept the shadows away, sending them crashing into the guardrail by the highway. The metal guardrail shattered upon impact.

The man gripped the wheel again, fighting to keep the car steady and avoid flipping over. As he pressed the gas again, the engine roared to life, sounding like an unstoppable ancient war chariot, charging forward with the power of an entire army, smashing into the countless shadows blocking the way.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

The boy thought that those ghostly figures wouldn't scream.

But the reality seemed different. The ghostly figures were screaming, their voices high-pitched and hoarse. They were either sent flying or crushed by the black car. 

Flesh and bone were caught in the tires, and as the vehicle rolled over them, they shook violently, sending waves of thick blood flying far away.

The black car charged forward recklessly, controlled skillfully by the man, like a wild, iron beast. Any shadow attempting to block their way was violently crushed to pieces.

Through the car window, the boy watched in shock. He stared wide-eyed at the man beside him, on the verge of saying something but unable to.

"Don't be afraid. Those things aren't human. They're Death Servitor."

The man said hoarsely, "They don't have citizenship, so there's no need to worry about legal consequences."

Even in such a dangerous situation, the man's tone remained casual. Although his expression was serious, he spoke with a joking manner, trying to comfort his son.

But then, in the next instant…

A blinding flash of lightning split the pitch-black clouds.

The thunder that followed sounded as though it would pierce the eardrums and shatter the heavens. Lightning flashed relentlessly, accompanied by some kind of presence descending with it.

The hard asphalt was cracked by the lightning, and the intense heat made the rain evaporate instantly.

The man slammed on the brakes. With a shrill screech, the black car suddenly slowed down, sliding sideways and eventually stopping in front of a toll booth.

In the blinding white light, a mournful sound seemed to echo through the fierce wind, solemn and grand, filled with reverence.

The surrounding shadowy figures, whose details were unclear, all knelt on the ground, their heads touching the earth in submission, as if welcoming some great presence.

A heavy roar echoed, followed by the sound of metal clashing against the ground. A massive, towering figure approached from the blinding white light, like a noble knight from ancient times, slowly drawing closer.

Boom!

The lightning split the dark night, bringing light and revealing the newcomer.

From the endless darkness, accompanied by the flash of lightning, came a mighty pure white steed.

It wore heavy armor adorned with intricate metalwork, its white coat shining like jade, glowing faintly. As it trotted, its powerful hooves crushed the hard asphalt like tofu, leaving dents in the ground. 

The horse's face was covered by a mask, and after each thunderous neigh, sparks like lightning would fly out from its nostrils.

On the horse's back, sitting in a shadow, was a figure clad in dark golden heavy armor.

Raindrops coated the armor with a subtle shine. The figure's face was hidden behind a stern iron mask, with golden eyes like stars, casting light that illuminated everything around.

The eight-legged steed, the long spear, the dark blue cloak, and the single eye—these features marked his identity.

He was the one-eyed, the supreme god, the embodiment of truth.

He was the Father of the Gods, the God of Magic, the God of War.

He had many names, just like the wind has countless forms. He was the King of the Gods, the God-King of Asgard—Odin! The boy had once read about his myth in his extracurricular books, the ruler of Norse mythology.

"Get off the horse."

The man drew a pitch-black long sword from the carriage and pulled the shocked boy out.

"Bow before me, human!"

In the rain, Odin's deep voice, full of power, even drowned out the sound of thunder and lightning.

"I know what you want. I'll give it to you, but will you let us leave?" The man's hair was soaked by the rain, but his eyes remained focused, staring at the towering god in the rain. He stood firm between the boy and Odin, his back straight like an unbending sword.

How handsome. The boy had never thought of his father as this handsome before.

"I promise you life."

Odin spoke calmly.

"Heh, you want to become like these dead people?"

The man sneered, looking around at the shadows kneeling on the ground.

"No, your bloodline is superior. You'll become even stronger."

Odin spoke.

"So, there's no room for negotiation, huh?"

The man sighed, then bent down and whispered a few words into the boy's ear.

The boy froze, staring blankly at his father, but all he got in return was the sight of his father's back. He could only silently walk to the back of the car, grab the suitcase, and take it to the man.

"Do you remember what I told you earlier?"

The man took the suitcase and softly said to the boy, "Now, it's time. Run!"

With the last word, he suddenly shouted and threw the suitcase at Odin.

Without thinking, the boy turned and ran, as if crazed. The shadows, however, seemed to smell blood like sharks, with half of them heading toward the suitcase, and the other half charging toward the boy. Their speed was terrifying, yet their bodies were twisted, looking like ghostly figures.

"Did I tell you to leave?!"

The man spun around violently, his long sword creating a brilliant arc, slicing through the surrounding rain.

Bones cracked under the blade, and the sound of flesh being cut echoed through the storm. The shadows screamed in agony, their cries mixing with the pouring rain. The boy dared not stop running.

He dove into the car and turned to look back at the rain.

However, that one glance would stay with him for the rest of his life.

At the far end of the elevated bridge, the sky, which had always been shrouded in darkness, now seemed like a lake where a giant stone had just been thrown. The black clouds churned violently.

The man, leaping high in the air, wielded his sword, as if carrying the weight of the world, and struck at Odin, who rode an eight-legged horse.

Odin raised his artifact made from the World Tree's branches, and golden meteors, like lightning, filled the air, bursting with brilliant light. Just as the two were about to clash, it seemed as though some invisible force paused everything—rain suspended in midair.

In Odin's lone eye, a brilliant golden light erupted as he gazed at the swirling clouds.

Boom—!!!

The dark, ink-like clouds were torn apart by an overwhelming force.

With wings like a cloak, the creature that emerged from the mythical depths tore through the churning clouds. 

It was a massive dragon, its body a pale gray-white, its scales engraved with intricate and mysterious runes. Its eyes were a pale gold, with vertical pupils, clear and bright, as though reflecting the thoughts of all living beings, carrying the vastness of the ocean within them.

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