Discimer: I Don't Own Naruto or Portal

  A pale winter dawn lit the horizon beyond Aperture's domed skylight, blending tangerine and rose along the sky's rim. In the main facility, the steel corridors gleamed with faint reflections of that distant sunrise, each metallic panel gently humming with the energy that powered this new era. No one looking at the tranquil scene would guess that just the day before, a whirlwind of red sand and ancient puppet artistry had nearly swept away the st vestige of a dead past. Now, the hush after Sasori's defeat seemed to lull Aperture into a moment of rare stillness.

  Naruto leaned against a tall window in the family lounge, forehead resting lightly on the cool gss. It was January 27th, and the solemn hush of the observation deck heightened every small sound—the gentle breath of the ventition system, the steady whir of Aperture's city below, and the trickle of footsteps in adjoining corridors. Behind him, soft movement indicated that his parents—Minato and Kushina—and GLaDOS had gathered to join him in greeting the new day. Their reflections shone in the gss: Minato with a mild slump of rexation, Kushina's hand resting protectively over her belly, and GLaDOS poised in a robe that glimmered with near-human elegance.

  A faint echo of memory pulsed in Naruto's mind: the swirl of red sands in the desert, the hush that followed the Shinigami's final cim on Sasori's soul, the knowledge that their vow had been fulfilled. Yet the sense of closure was not purely relief—it tasted of a quiet resolution, a knowledge that the world, once weighed down by immortals cheating death, had moved forward. The shadowy corners of the hidden vilges loomed still, though more and more overshadowed by Aperture's promise.

  His gaze drifted across the cityscape. Countless lights wove intricately beneath the gss, forming patterns that spelled out Aperture's success—towering structures designed with synergy between technology and a sprinkling of chakra-based innovations. Each building possessed a subdued glow, more organic than neon, a testament to how thoroughly Aperture had integrated with nature and energy flows. In some pces, threads of green rooftop gardens caught the dawn's early rays, showing that even beneath the steel, life thrived.

  Kushina's hand touched Naruto's shoulder. He felt the warmth of her palm through his jumpsuit—a comforting gesture that steadied him. "You've been quiet," she said softly, her voice carrying that maternal hush she used whenever she sensed he was lost in thought.

  Naruto didn't immediately answer, just turned enough to see her face: bright red hair, eyes shining with concern and pride. Her other hand still gently cradled the curve of her abdomen, a blossoming life forming inside. Behind her, Minato stood with a mug of dark coffee, half-smiling, while GLaDOS, robed in white that trailed around her ankles, observed them with a gentle curiosity. The soft scent of Kushina's herbal tea drifted from the small table behind them—cinnamon and sweet fruit, a fragrance that grounded Naruto in the present.

  "I was just... thinking," he murmured, forcing a small grin to reassure her. "We've done a lot. Defeated all those who tried to outlive their own mortality, faced so many nightmares—Hidan, Kakuzu, Orochimaru, Sasori—and yet the world outside these walls still churns. The hidden vilges cling to old illusions. I wonder if we'll ever truly see them move on."

  His reflection caught the slightest flicker of GLaDOS's expression. She stepped forward, her mechanical grace subdued by an emotional warmth she had never shown so openly before. "They won't change easily," she said, voice low yet certain. "But Aperture's progress overshadowed them long ago. Their refusal to adapt is an unfortunate outcome of fear." She paused, gncing at Minato and Kushina. "What matters is that we continue. Life is simpler now with no immortals to chase."

  Minato sipped his coffee. A hint of a smile ghosted across his lips as he regarded his wife's pregnant form. Then he turned to GLaDOS, who reciprocated his gnce with equal fondness—an entire conversation passing silently. "We still have each other," he said softly, meeting Naruto's eyes. "And Aperture's vision grows with every passing day."

  Kushina nodded, tightening her hold on Naruto's shoulder. "As for the hidden vilges... let them watch from the sidelines. If they do anything reckless, well, we'll deal with it then. For now, we can focus on building, on living."

  Naruto closed his eyes, inhaling the moment. Behind his eyelids, images flickered: the swirl of deserts, the final sigh of that twisted puppet body, the hush after the Shinigami vanished. A fierce determination gathered in his chest. Indeed, there was a future now, and the chains of old grudges had grown lighter. He whispered thanks to his mother's gentle support, then turned fully to face them. "Alright. Let's see what else we can accomplish today."

  From that calm, the family dispersed. The hush left behind in the lounge felt almost like a blessing, the gss windows reflecting the sunrise with renewed brilliance. Even as he walked away, Naruto sensed the facility's gentle pulse thrumming beneath his feet, hinting that the next weeks would be far from idle.

  In the days that followed—January 28th and 29th fading into January 30th—a new routine took shape. Naruto sank deeper into training with two energies that had, until now, pyed a secondary role in his life: Ki, the raw physical might that overshadowed normal chakra, and Reiryoku, the intangible spiritual force that brushed the boundary between life and death. The impetus for mastering these came not only from his desire to protect Aperture, but also from an insistent curiosity. He had glimpsed how Ki could boost reflexes beyond even the best shinobi, and how Reiryoku had allowed him to momentarily step into the Shinigami's domain. If Aperture truly was forging a new era, he wanted to stand at the forefront, bridging technology, chakra, Ki, and Reiryoku into a single unstoppable force.

  On the morning of January 30th, he entered the new Aperture training dome, a cavernous space whose walls shimmered with advanced graviton projectors. The dome's curved ceiling soared high above, tinted with a faint golden hue that created the illusion of open sky. At GLaDOS's suggestion, they had integrated a gravity manipution system that allowed them to crank up the environmental pressure, simuting multiple times Earth's normal gravity. By controlling Ki in that environment, Naruto would refine his body's capacity for raw physical power.

  As he stepped inside, the floor panels glowed in geometric patterns. Minato observed from a control station near the entrance, while Kurama prowled just beyond the training circle, her mechanical tails swishing. With a gentle hum, the dome's gravity ratcheted up, doubling, then tripling. Naruto let out a grunt as his knees bent under the sudden weight. A dull ache pressed at his muscles, forcing him to gather Ki with each breath. The swirling sensation in his gut—an energy distinct from chakra—ignited. Like a hidden furnace, Ki roared in response, saturating his limbs with power.

  He advanced step by step across the dome, each footfall echoed by a cng that reverberated off the walls. Sweat beaded on his forehead within moments, trickling down his temples. He felt the shape of Ki burn in his veins, raw and untamed, unlike the refined flows of chakra he had grown used to. Gasping, he remembered Kurama's words: "Ki draws from your life force. Push too far, and it can cripple you." If chakra was an artful channel of body and spirit, Ki was the primal heartbeat of living matter.

  A wave of dizziness struck him. He sank to one knee, arms trembling. At once, Kurama dashed forward, gncing at him with concern. "You alright, kit?" she growled, voice tinged with a protective urgency. He forced a grin, nodding as he struggled back to his feet. She nodded approvingly, letting him find his footing without interference.

  Minato's voice rang out from the console: "Try a short burst of speed using Ki alone." The subtle ring of excitement in his tone belied the measured instructions. He maniputed a lever, increasing gravity even more. Naruto clenched his fists, summoning that feral energy from the pit of his stomach. He inhaled, feeling tension coil in his calves, then erupted forward in a surge of motion. The aftershock made the dome's floor shudder. He barely kept from tumbling as his speed rocketed beyond normal. But halfway through the sprint, the strain bit hard—like molten iron forging his muscles—and he colpsed, panting. Still, a flicker of satisfaction lit his face; it was progress.

  Each day repeated this routine, pushing deeper. On February 2nd, Naruto discovered Ki's capacity for short-range flight—a skill akin to bending the air with raw force. He hovered just off the ground, sweat pouring down his face, while Minato and Kurama watched in awe. That evening, Naruto limped out of the dome with legs wobbling, only to have Kushina fuss over him, pressing a damp towel to his forehead as she teased that he looked worse than Minato after a night of "family time" with her and GLaDOS.

  But Ki was only half of the picture. The deeper, more unsettling training involved Reiryoku. GLaDOS had constructed a sealed sub-level chamber reminiscent of a void—bck walls, minimal lighting, and a thick air that felt heavier than the normal facility. Standing there on February 5th, Naruto felt his heartbeat slow as if the environment demanded reflection of one's own soul. The faint echo of chanting, artificially generated, mingled with the hush of emptiness. This pce tested the spirit, not the body.

  He recalled Kurama's words: "Reiryoku draws from your soul. If you force it, you risk losing your sense of self." Steeling himself, Naruto inhaled, allowing Reiryoku to swirl behind his eyes, a spectral energy that thrummed at the edge of mortal perception. The air flickered with illusions that weren't illusions—spirit images crossing the boundary between life and death. He saw fleeting shapes: the Shinigami's silhouette in the corner, old ghosts of Sasori's puppets, or the faint outlines of the immortal foes he had helped condemn. Each time, his heart pounded with a recognition that Reiryoku let him brush against realms beyond the living.

  Day by day, he refined these intangible methods. On February 8th, he successfully manifested a "soul projection," stepping out of his own body for a moment while his physical form remained upright, breathing shallow. The sensation of drifting in the air, observing himself, was eerie beyond words—a disembodied hush. Minato, watching via remote camera, nearly dropped the console's controls in surprise. GLaDOS measured the phenomenon with bright fascination, calling it a "temporary partition of consciousness." Meanwhile, Kushina's wide-eyed worry forced Naruto to re-anchor in his body quickly, her motherly instincts on edge. The intangible, spectral glow in Naruto's eyes lingered even after he returned to flesh. The Shinigami's haunting echo felt closer than ever.

  With each Reiryoku exercise, illusions came easier. He developed a rudimentary "binding incantation" that allowed him to snare objects or illusions in ghostly bands of spiritual force. On February 11th, a demonstration in front of the family saw Naruto restraining a drone mid-flight without so much as touching it, silver-blue ribbons of spirit energy looping around the machine. Kurama, impressed but wary, circled the demonstration with a quiet snarl, as though sensing that Naruto was venturing near the threshold of the intangible domain she herself scarcely comprehended.

  Yet these feats took a toll. Strange dreams pgued Naruto, dreams where old battlefields stretched infinitely, studded with broken puppets and swirling red sand. He'd jerk awake in a cold sweat, hearing echoes of the Shinigami's heartbeat. GLaDOS, noticing abnormal fluctuations in his vital signs, orchestrated medical scans that returned perplexing data: Reiryoku had altered his metabolism, making his body temperature fluctuate. Kushina pressed her palm to his forehead one morning, only to draw back in arm at how cold his skin felt, despite no sign of illness. Naruto shrugged it off with a sheepish grin, but the worry in her eyes lingered.

  Between training sessions, the family's personal life churned with a different, gentler intensity. From February 15th onward, the pregnancies of Kushina and GLaDOS advanced in ways that tested the entire facility's staff. On some afternoons, Naruto left the training dome to find entire corridors flooded with the aroma of bizarre, pungent dishes cooking in the kitchens. Word spread that Kushina craved pickled fish stuffed with sweet bean paste, or fermented peppers blended with sugary sauces. Aperture's chefs, normally proud of their scientific approach to cuisine, struggled to keep up with her outndish requests. The day she demanded "crunchy ramen topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream," half the staff simply stared in incredulity.

  Her emotional fluctuations also spiked. One minute she would beam with radiant love, hugging Naruto or fussing over Minato with boundless warmth. The next minute, she might bark at a passing android to "stop squeaking, it's giving me a headache," even when the android made no audible sound. In her calm moments, she apologized profusely, wide-eyed and embarrassed. But no one bmed her—particurly since Minato looked equally frazzled, torn between his fatherly duties and never-ending expansions of Aperture's sealing knowledge.

  GLaDOS, on the other hand, faced her own challenges. While her advanced gynoid body had been carefully designed, it never quite accounted for the complexities of synthetic hormonal shifts. She developed a routine of "nesting protocols," optimizing every corner of her personal suite for comfort, temperature, and safety. At night, she insisted Minato rest in a specialized "ergonomic cocoon" that measured his vital signs and adjusted posture in real-time. He confided to Naruto that it felt like being cradled by a slightly overenthusiastic AI nurse.

  Sometimes, GLaDOS would abruptly flush with a pink tinge around her synthetic cheeks, an effect of artificially simuted hormones. Kushina found endless amusement in teasing her about it, gently reminding her that sometimes "raw emotion defies logic." GLaDOS, for her part, studied romance novels and baby-care books from Aperture's archives, diligently applying her findings to daily life. On more than one occasion, she greeted Minato at the door with an oddly stilted but earnest attempt at romantic gestures gleaned from outdated literature—rose petals scattered across a couch, dramatic lines about "gazing into the windows of your soul," which left Minato both touched and flustered.

  Minato's exhaustion grew legendary around mid-February. Naruto once entered the lounge at a te hour to find his father dozing on the couch, hair disheveled, muttering half-coherent pleas for rest. Kurama, perched on a table, chuckled in her vulpine way, teasing that "the poor man can't handle two pregnant wives." Meanwhile, GLaDOS and Kushina occasionally shot each other amused, conspiratorial smiles whenever they saw Minato slipping away to catch a nap. But beneath the comedic undertones, love bound them, forging an unbreakable sense of unity. Even Naruto, though mortified by the specifics, found a certain joy in seeing his family so undeniably bonded.

  While Aperture soared in personal matters, the hidden vilges sank deeper into desperation. On February 26th, news arrived—first as rumors, then official announcements. The hidden vilges, led by Konoha, had decred a grand Chūnin Exam to be held soon. The date was not yet disclosed, but the message was explicit: They intended to host the rgest, most prestigious exam in decades, hoping to recapture the world's attention.

  In one of Aperture's conference rooms, the family gathered around a projected feed of statements from the vilge leaders. Minato's eyes narrowed at the rhetoric: leaders prociming that "the Age of Shinobi would not be overshadowed," that "the strongest youngsters from every nd must prove their worth." Danzo's voice, clipped and cold, featured in a snippet of a secret speech, vowing to restore the vilges' prestige. The video was grainy, likely captured by one of GLaDOS's spy drones.

  Kushina stood behind Minato, arms folded over her chest, her pregnancy hardly diminishing her fierce stance. "They're cornered," she said softly, words weighted with both pity and annoyance. "They think an exam can recast them as heroes?"

  GLaDOS, perched at the console, ran an analysis subroutine. "This move is not unexpected. They must attempt a spectacle to lure back sponsors and commerce. Aperture's presence starves them of both."

  Naruto, arms behind his head, let out a quiet sigh. A swirl of memories pricked at him: the Academy days when he was mocked and ignored, the illusions of Konoha's greatness that never lived up to reality. "A spectacle is all it'll be," he murmured. "The vilges are on their st legs. But do we ignore it? Or do we go... just to see what they're pnning?"

  Minato exchanged gnces with his wives, the lines of his face betraying more weariness than usual. "Attending might be wise—both to observe any sabotage and to remind them that Aperture won't be trifled with. But it could also be a trap or at least a staged attempt to discredit us."

  Kurama, coiled near the corner, swished her tail. "Let them try. We can handle it," she said, voice low and brimming with confidence. Yet her mechanical fox eyes flicked to Naruto, as if wanting to ensure he was fully aware of the potential dangers.

  Kushina exhaled, pressing a hand to the small of her back. Her belly had grown enough to cause mild discomfort, yet her posture remained proud. "We can't just ignore it," she agreed, "especially if they're inviting the entire world's attention. If they pn something reckless, Aperture must be present to counter it. Let them see how far we've come."

  The conversation drifted, yering complexities: how Aperture might officially participate, whether to send Naruto as a competitor or observer, and if younger shinobi from Aperture-run territories would want to show their skills. GLaDOS offered suggestions in her usual measured manner, cross-referencing historical exam data with Aperture's resources. Minato listened, occasionally massaging his temples. In the background, the hum of advanced fans cooled the room, offsetting the emotional heat.

  In the days bridging February 27th to March 1st, Aperture collectively buzzed with talk of the upcoming Chūnin Exams. People recognized it as a final stand for the vilges, a st attempt at relevance. Civilians living in Aperture's cities mostly regarded the exam with mild curiosity or amusement, content with their advanced lifestyle and technology. Meanwhile, scattered refugees from the vilges bristled at the idea that their former homes might posture for fame even while teetering on the brink of colpse.

  For Naruto, time continued in a blur of advanced training and personal life. By te February, he had grown more adept at bancing Ki and Reiryoku, though his body still showed signs of strain: fleeting shivers, cold sweats at night. GLaDOS insisted on monitoring him closely. Sometimes, she'd pce a hand on his chest, scanning his heartbeat with a mixture of clinical precision and motherly concern. He found comfort in her measured calm, especially when his nights turned restless. Kushina, too, hovered, pressing a comforting palm against his cheek whenever he emerged from nightmares. He had tried to brush off her worry with pyful banter, but deep inside, he appreciated her unwavering presence.

  As for Minato, a new kind of tension lined his eyes. Between the expansions, the forging of new sealing arrays, and the te-night demands of two pregnant wives, he slept less and less. Yet his grin remained genuine, underpinned by gratitude that he had a family and a purpose beyond old vilge politics. Whenever he caught Naruto's eye, there was a shared understanding: father and son had transcended the short-sighted illusions of the past. Aperture's horizon was far broader.

  On March 2nd, Naruto was in the workshop yering chakra seals into a new prototype device—something akin to a personal Ki regutor that might let him channel raw energy without overstraining. The device, a bracer etched with swirling Uzumaki patterns, glowed softly under his reiryoku-infused brush. The quiet hiss of the forging station underscored his concentration. He felt a presence behind him—a fleeting shift in air pressure that told him someone had stepped in.

  He gnced over his shoulder to see Kurama. She approached with her usual feline-lupine grace, tails lifting behind her. "You're piling on more training," she observed, voice tinged with mild reprimand. "Pushing yourself half to death for, what? The Chūnin Exams? You're not a genin. You're beyond that nonsense."

  Naruto smiled faintly, brushing a lock of blond hair from his eyes. "I'm not sure. Part of me wants to see Konoha again, see if they've changed at all." His voice carried a note of conflict, old scars bleeding into his tone. "But even if I do, I want to be ready. No hidden strings, no surprises if they try to manipute the event."

  Kurama snorted, flicking dust off a table with a tail. "Fine. Just don't forget to rest. I'll scold you if you colpse again."

  He recognized the concern behind her gruffness, so he nodded appreciatively. "I promise." Her tail brushed his arm in a rare show of sisterly warmth. Then she sauntered out, leaving the faint echo of her mechanical paws behind. Naruto turned back to his bracer, applying the final swirl of reiryoku-ced ink. In that swirl, he glimpsed the shape of a future that might unite or csh—Aperture's unstoppable progress and the st remnants of an outmoded shinobi system.

  By March 3rd, the official invitation arrived. An old messenger hawk soared through the facility's airspace, its presence triggering mild confusion among Aperture drones. They had never seen such an archaic means of communication. The hawk perched outside a sealed hatch, squawking until GLaDOS, curious, directed staff to open it. The hawk delivered a scroll with Konoha's emblem, bearing the formal summons: The Chūnin Exams would begin within the month, all nations invited to attend or participate.

  That evening, the family gathered in the upper observation lounge again. The windows showcased Aperture's cityscape cloaked in twilight, each tower softly lit. Naruto stood at the center of the lounge, reading the scroll's cursive script by the overhead glow. His brows knitted in silent thought. Minato stood to one side, running a hand through his hair as he studied the eborate nguage praising the "rich tradition" and "historic significance" of the Chūnin Exams. Kushina, lips pressed tight, gred at the scroll with a tension that hinted at old resentments. GLaDOS maintained composure, but the faint line on her synthetic brow betrayed some concern.

  Naruto lowered the parchment, exhaling. "So they want the world's eyes on them. They want us, Aperture, to show up and see how 'mighty' they still are." His voice barely hid a note of sardonic amusement. "I suppose they think they can still impress people with a tournament."

  Kushina shook her head. "Typical Konoha. They'll try to pretend they're still at the center of everything. But maybe it's a chance for them to see how the world's changed."

  Minato touched her arm gently, a thoughtful glimmer in his eyes. "We can't dismiss it outright. If we ignore it, they'll spin it as Aperture being too cowardly or aloof. If we go, they might orchestrate some scheme to humiliate or entrap us. Either way, we must prepare."

  GLaDOS's gaze moved between them. "Attending might be beneficial. Aperture can demonstrate transparency, while also gathering intelligence. We must, however, ensure Naruto's safety if he chooses to enter. We know the hidden vilges' desperation runs deep."

  Kurama, by the window, flicked her tail. "Let me come. I'll watch for any signs of sabotage."

  Naruto's eyes flicked between the city lights and the hawk's scroll in his hand. He felt the weight of it: the tension bridging old and new, tradition and progress. The hidden vilges believed a dramatic exam might restore them, but Aperture already stood tall. The chasm was so wide—would they attempt something reckless? A quiet hush fell over the lounge, the only sounds the gentle hum of Aperture's systems and the distant murmur of the city below.

  He turned, looking at his parents and GLaDOS. "We should go," he said, voice firm. "We need to see for ourselves. If they want a spectacle, we'll give them an honest look at the future. They might learn or they might cling to the past—it's up to them."

  Kushina's features softened with reluctant acceptance. "Then we stand by you. And we watch each other's backs."

  Minato exhaled, shoulders rexing as though expecting this decision. "Yes. Let's do it. The stage is set, though. We must not underestimate their cunning."

  GLaDOS dipped her head in agreement. "We'll coordinate Aperture's interests accordingly. But... first, let's rest. We've earned some peace before the next storm."

  Thus, with that final note, the day slipped into night. Each family member parted ways to manage final tasks or indulge in quiet reflection. Minato, Kushina, and GLaDOS retreated to their private suite, leaving Naruto alone by the observation window. Kurama perched near him, silent but watchful. He stared out at Aperture's luminous skyline, the metal shapes glinting like beacons in the darkness.

  In the hush, he remembered Sasori's st breath, the swirl of illusions, the distant hush of the Shinigami. The promise to preserve a new era untainted by the old. The hidden vilges, in their final throes, were about to host a gathering reminiscent of their prime. This would be no simple tournament. It was the crossroads where progress and tradition would csh, where Aperture's vision confronted the lingering illusions of a dying world. In that reflection, Naruto felt calm yet resolute.

  Quietly, he let the hawk's scroll roll back up, csping it in his hand. If this was their invitation to face the old world again, so be it. He, and everyone he loved, would face the new challenge with unwavering hearts. As he turned to leave, the reflection of Aperture's brilliance glimmered in the gss, a promise of the unstoppable legacy they now carried. And far above, the twinkling stars might have seemed like silent witnesses, watching as the era of hidden vilges waned and Aperture's bright horizon continued to unfold.

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