In the wake of the First Shinobi World War, the name Uchiha Kagami was carved into memorial stones and whispered with honor across the Land of Fire. A loyal shinobi, a prodigy of the Uchiha clan, and a right hand to the famous Sarutobi Hiruzen—his death was mourned deeply.

  But no body was ever found.

  Despite days of searching, only his broken forehead protector was discovered near the battleground. With no trace of his corpse, he was declared dead—another casualty swallowed by war.

  Except he wasn’t dead.

  Kagami awoke in a place utterly unfamiliar—his back resting against a root of an enormous, moss-covered tree deep inside a dense, dark forest. The air was thick with mana, unknown to him but felt through every pore of his body. Strange birds screeched in the distance, and the trees seemed to whisper in an unfamiliar tongue.

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  “…What?” he muttered, blinking.

  He tried to stand—but something was wrong. His limbs were short. His balance was off.

  He stumbled to a nearby pond and looked into the water.

  A child’s face stared back.

  Three years old, at most.

  “What kind of genjutsu—?!” Kagami gasped, his Sharingan flashing instinctively in panic—but the moment it activated, a searing pain flared in his head and eyes. His chakra was still within him… but his body was far too small and fragile to wield it effectively.

  And yet, something else was there. A different power. Like a current running under his skin. It wasn’t chakra—it was something else.

  Before he could explore that sensation, a low growl echoed behind him.

  He turned. Red eyes. Silver fur. Long claws and savage fangs. A pack of magical lycans, large as bears, their bodies glowing faintly with runes carved into their fur.

  "Not good..."

  He tried to jump back—his shinobi reflexes blaring—but his body simply couldn’t move the way his mind expected.

  He braced for the worst—

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