A/N: I return my subjects! For any wondering, YES I have seen the new Mad Max movie, Fury Road, and I bloody loved it! However, I wasn't too pleased with (SPOILERS AHEAD) How that poor girl, I believe her name was Angharad, was so cruelly killed off like that. I MEAN SHE WAS PREGNANT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
And when I saw that there were no Naruto crossovers with it and all the INSANITY that takes places throughout, well, the gears in my mind got to turning. As another note, this is a sort of prequel to the "Not Going Home" series as a whole, chronicling the adventures of our dimension hopping blond.
Therefore, before reading this, I SERIOUSLY suggest you stop and read that, first.
So, I've been going over reviews, and an anonymous reviewer said something that really resonated with me. I love to write. But sometimes, I feel that this gift owns me, rather than I, owning it. Its like a beast inside me, this urge to create, but I can't control it very well, which results in a LOT of new stories. So as of last night, and continuing throughout the week, I'm purging stories that won't be continued, or works that no one enjoys anymore.
Let me know which ones you feel should be continued, before its too late! Don't worry, many of the major ones will remain, but anything from 2008-2009 is likely going out the window with all the rest of the trash, never to be seen again. This may seem sudden I know, but I'm only purging the forgotten fics that no one cares for. Fear not, its not going to be immediate, but it WILL happen, I simply wanted to get this out as a forewarning.
This will be of very few new stories I plan to release, god willing. If I have an idea, I plan to make it a damn good one before I just toss it out there, as I devote myself to my other works, soon to number into the hundreds, and potentially dozens as I whittle them down. I need to reassess why I want to write, for the joy of it, and I can't do that by letting you guys down with old, crappy stories I wrote in my early days.
LET THE NEW ERA BEGIN! Also yes, I'm introducing a new character here...
...off we go! I proudly present Not Looking Back!
"So...sand. Lots of sand. Cripes, why did I even come to this universe?"
They say God created man in his image.
If so, what does that make us?
What does it make mankind, we who were meant to be created in the image of a deity? We, who do nothing but destroy and defile? Well, that's easy.
That makes us monsters.
Aberrations, abominations, amalgamations and many other incredibly unpleasant words that begin with the letter "A." Yes. Not pleasant.
Now now, don't get angry! I'm sure the big guy had some sort of plan when he created you people; all creators have plans for their children, after all.
But did we follow that plan? No.
Take me, for example.
With the help of my friends, wit, and a great deal of luck on my part, I not only hijacked the power of a GODDESS, devoured her soul and made it my own, but became immortal as well. Now I travel through the realms on an almost daily basis, popping in and out of different universes at will, causing havoc and playing pranks. If that was that Kami intended for me, well, god bless him! God bless his eternal soul!
Ah, but I'm getting off topic here, aren't I. We were talking about the fallacy of mortals.
In the last seven dimensions I've visited I have seen humanity as a whole destroy itself, rebuild, only to be destroyed once again. I once saw them ruled by apes, even. I am no stranger to the apocalypse as a whole; I even accidentally started it a few times myself. But for the life of me, I just can't understand the logic here. If you're given a beautiful planet like the earth, a world rich and verdant in life, why? Why why why WHY for the love of me, would you intentionally destroy it?
Rather, why must mankind always destroy itself? Why ruin your world, push your people down a road of madness and insanity, knowing it will only end in bloodhsed? Where you take your women and breed them as if they're cattle, as if they're not people, but sacks of flesh...gah, off topic again! I'll just get right down it, then.
My name is Uzumaki Naruto, but I'm sure you already know that. And this...
...this is the story of a strange, dry, mad little world I once visited
It was also, by far, one of the most amusing.
Sand swirled to life across fury road, bringing a god to life with it.
The arrival of this god did not come with a shout, nor did it end with a bang, but a sigh. One minute the wasteland was empty and devoid of any life, the next it simply...wasn't. There was no great thunderclap to herald his arrival, no storm of blood to blacken the skies, no flock of ravens to pick the bones of his enemies clean.
He merely "whispered" into existence.
A stray breeze picked up those stray grains and tossed them into the sky, and when they landed a hand was there to catch them, shading blue eyes against the harsh rays of the afternoon sun. Clad in resplendent black plate armor, he looked every bit the part of a knight, a traveler out of time., rather ironic, considered the world he'd just vacated.
He took one look at the endless stretch of nothingness before him and frowned, whiskered cheeks pinching in a scowl.
"Oh, great." were the first words out of his mouth. "Another wasteland. Sheesh, the Fallout universe was much, much, much better than this...ugh, I don't even know what to call it." He glanced down, sniffing. "And this armor certainly isn't helping any. We're not in Thedas anymore, let's try something simple this time." A snap of the fingers banished this gaudy outfit altogether, replacing that menacing, gilded suit with a simple brown tunic and trousers.
"Ah. Much better."
His head turned at the distant crack of thunder.
Awe took him as he beheld the distant sandstorm, roiling brown clouds creeping out across the horizon. But this was no mere dustup, the A giant hand reaching down, scouring the land clean. There was a certain beauty in it, the sheer destruction rolling forward on the plains, obliterating all that stood in its path.
For the first time in his life, Uzumaki Naruto found himself awed by the forces of nature.
"So. Big storm. Yeah, this'll end well."
All that signified the newcomer's existence was a small indentation of his feet in the desert. He took one step out into this strange new world-
-and promptly found himself flattened as a dune buggy plowed into him in a roiling ball of fire.
It was a very nice explosion Splat thought as he exited his vehcle, very bright, very chrome, very shiny. Poor bastard, he never stood a chance. What had he been doing though, just standing out there? Was he trying to die? To go to the gates of Valhalla? He supposed he'd never know, now.
"Glorious!" the cry leapt from his lips as surveyed the wreckage, his buggy left untended behind him. "So glorious!"
Shame about his mate, though, running into him like that. Scud had always been a little on the crazy side, running over people like that. He wouldn't be doing it anymore now. He still didn't understand why the car had blown up like that, but it was glorious to watch all the same. The War Boy stood there for a long moment, just drinking it all in. What a lovely day, indeed!
And then, to his great disbelief, the wreckage moved, bits of flaming metal clanging together as something stirred within.
The scout frowned, scurrying forward. Was Scud still alive?
"Uuuuurgh, did anyone get the number of that bus?"
Splat poked at the pile with his foot. It shifted again.
"Erm...are you okay?"
A muffled groan answered from the wreckage.
"Yup, I'm fan-fucking-tastic. Nothing but gumdrops and ice cream in here."
Splat paused considering those words. "That sounds nice. Is it something you eat?"
The debris shifted again, ever so slightly. Splat drew his pistol, frowning. The voice didn't sound like Scud, but curiosity overrode his baser judgement. What came next only made him all the more curious:
...I'm surrounded by idiots."
Splat's frown deepened. "I thought you were surrounded by the drops of gum and the cream of ice?
There was a silence as Splat's gun inched toward the still-smoldering pile, awaiting an answer. Then:
With a furious yowl an arm shot out of the wreckage, locked around his head and yanked.
Not Scud! Not Scud at all!
The War Boy fired wildly, empty the clip into the face of his foe, to no avail. The vice on his head didn't release him.
Splat didn't even have time to squeal when the blond emerged in a shower of metal and flame, the strange man hauling him off his feet as though he weighed no more than a child. What he saw there nearly reduced his soul to a quivering wreck. Half of his face had been melted by the explosion, but even as he looked on the warped flesh molded itself back into smooth sun-kissed skin once more. Angry blue eyes glowered back at Splat with angry temerity, rimmed and bloodshot.
"Nice try." he said through a mouthful of lead, "If its any consolation, that hurt like hell." Those very bullet spattered to the ground with a soft clink of sound. "You should probably start praying, now. But first lets take a peek inside that skull of yours. Wouldn't hurt to know a little more about this place...
Splat could only sputter incoherently as those fingers clenched around his skull. He was looking at a burning man, his jack and hair still smoldering with smoke and flame. A demon god. His bones turned to jelly.
"Name's Naruto. Just your resident prankster. Don't mind me."
The pale human tried to speak, but all that emerged was a strangled gurgle.
His existence ceased to be as his mind was laid bare, but it was a two way street. In that agonizing moment he saw worlds untouched, great, verdant, green places. Life. So many pretty things, shiny things...
And then it was over.
"Immortal Joe." The burning deity paused, considering as he cradled the War Boy's skull in his hand. Contemplating. "Wonder if he's really immortal? Might be worth a...oh." The pause was longer this time, the silence more visceral as he drank the new memories in. Oh. Oh my. He saw it. Them. Saw it all.
And they were praying.
Still new into his godhood as he was, there was one talent he'd taken particular time to cultivate. He always knew when someone was praying. Not to him of course, this being only the eighth realm he'd visited, but the realization that people in this world still believed in some higher power was starting. Enough to rouse him from his stupor.
"Here," he sighed, hurling the soul back into its vessel with a grunt. "You can have this back, kid. I'm not feeling too hungry, now. Looks like you got lucky."
Splat didn't understand why the god had bothered to spare him; only that he did. Breath-life-gusted back into his lungs, leaving him gasping.
His forehead kissed with arid ground with a dull thud, and groaned.
When next he looked, the burning man was gone.
Intangibility was a handy skill to have, Naruto thought.
Walls and their thickness meant nothing to you when you could simply phase through them; all one had to do was vibrate their molecules at a high frequency of speed. It wasn't something most mortals-or even shinobi, really-were capable of, but for a god? A being who had already lived for centuries, with complete mastery over his chakra?
The ability to go about one's business wholly unseen and unfettered was almost a blessing; because Naruto was certain that, had any one tried to stop him, he would've slaughtered them on the spot. Although some did stop to wonder about the strange orange streaks of pain he slathered across the walls. Pranking the occasional passerby was just about the only way to keep a lid on the aggression, only five minutes here in "Immortal" Joe's home and he found he was ready to do exactly what he'd done to Silent Hill; nuke it to hell and not look back.
He didn't like the man.
Not one bit.
So angry was he that he actually broke his cardinal rule and acted before he'd completed his objective; flooding the lowlands below with water to quench the thirst of the starving masses. It proved an admirable enough distraction, pouring thousands of gallons of water into the valley and watching as Joe's men tried to keep them from it. Poor sods looked like they hadn't had a decent drink in weeks.
Something would have to be done about that.
What kind of ruler left his people to suffer like this? It would be so easy just to off the man and be done with it, but in this case cutting off the head of snake only meant another viler creature would sprout up in its place to rule. There was so much taint here in the hearts of man that it made him ill. That corruption needed to be rooted out yes, but first and foremost, innocents must be protected. Then he'd have his fun.
"What a lovely day." he muttered to himself at the thought.
So, his anger firmly bottled up inside him, Uzumaki Naruto strode through the Citadel, passing painted men by-unseen-undetected. It was only when he finally reached his destination that he uncloaked. The vault was a large thing, oddly reminiscent of something he'd seen in a vault once. A flicker of senjutsu told him all he needed to know of the five individuals beyond-and that they weren't expecting him. One was still praying he saw with pang of surprise.
"Well, here goes nothing."
The integrity of the vault was sundered in an instant as he stepped through...
...into a different world.
All high arched ceilings and stone walls,
Four of the five girls had been preoccupied when he stepped into the vault, but the soft tap of his weathered boots against the ground alerted them to his presence.
"Yo!" He opened his mouth to reassure them. "Nice to...
-only to find himself assaulted with every object imaginable.
Almost immediately all manner of things started flying at him, empty goblets and glasses, books and plates, all striking him in the face. It didn't so much hurt as it did tickle, but his laughter only seemed to make things worse. Now pillows came flying in, great fluffy things smacking against his chest and legs as he struggled to shield himself.
"Gah, pillows!" he cried, shielding his face, laughing. "Attack of the pillows!"
Finally the assault ceased. With nothing left to throw, they huddled together, scared out of their wits by him, this heavily armored stranger. One or two of them glared defiantly in his direction. All they wore where white garments; Joe probably thought the pure colors befitted such beautiful creatures.
"You're not Furiosa!" one of them cried.
...I am not." Naruto found himself admitting. "Nope. Don't even know who that is."
"How did you get in here?!"
"I'm God, silly Capable. I go where I please. Or where I'm called."
"You know us?"
"Of course I know you." he pointed to each of them in turn, grinning. "I heard one of you praying. Capable, Cheedo, Dag ,Toast and, wait, wasn't there one more-OOMPH!"
Naruto blinked in surprise as a heavy book crashed down on his horned head with considerable might. All this achieved was the destruction of the hard novel; the thick cover and paper turned to tatters the moment they touched the dread points of his horns. He turned, shaking himself like a wet dog, and the ruined book flew free as he faced his would-be-assailant. Wide, bright blue eyes stared back at him from a heart-shaped face, an ethereal visage of beauty framed by light brown hair.
"Ah, there she is...
His words trailed off into sputtering as he laid eye on her. He'd only glimpsed her before, but up close, with his own eyes was another matter. She was a pretty thing, sure, but that wasn't what struck him, knocked him right off his game and reduced him to a muttering mess. Pregnant. Pregnant? Pregnant! Pregnant?! The word-sight!-resonated in his mind. His marvelous plan crumbled to pieces in an instant. Rescuing a few frightened girls was one thing, but this...well, this was new.
"Are you here to help us?" she asked.
"Well, I was considering before you whacked me, but...
Her expression crumpled.
"Aw, don't make that face."
Naruto took one look at her and smiling, promptly made his decision. Pregnant or not, he felt he had a duty to these girls. He took her hand and kissed it.
"What a lovely day."
And by the end of it, a world would burn.
A/N: WHAT A LOVELY DAY INDEED! Ah, sorry. Just couldn't help myself. What kind of hilarity can Naruto get up to here? Ohhhh, quite a bit. Don't believe me? BEHOLD THE PREVIEW.
Immortal Joe took a good, long, hard look at the sundered vault and fought the urge to kill something.
Easier said than done, that.
Gone. HIS PROPERTY WAS GONE!
A muscle jumped in his jaw, twitching now behind the mask that supplied oxygen to his ravaged lungs. Anger and shock warred somewhere int he back of his mind as he beheld the scope of the damage, pysche trying, and failing to find a foothold in this insanity. It looked like a massive beast had simply grabbed the solid steel door and ripped it off its hinges, exposing the rooms within. Joe wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at, only that someone was having a good laugh at his expenxe.
Worse still, was the color.
As though an angry god had taken a giant paintbrush to every corner of his precious Citadel, the bright, neon color glared back at him.
And there on the floor, written in merry writing:
"HOPE YOU LIKE THE NEW PAINT JOB! FURIOSA SAYS FUCK YOU!"
Your resident deity,
AND THE INSANITY BEGINS! So, in the Immortal Words of Atlas, Review, Would You Kindly?