A/N: Just saw Rogue One again and I'm ready to riot! It really pulled at my heart strings and made me wonder about things. So when this request cropped up, I had to give it a go. I'm also going to go something with Rebels soon I think, so be sure and let me know what you think of that =D
Also folks, I'm sad to say it...Carrie Fisher, and now her mother recently passed away after suffering a heart attack. May they rest in peace. The Force will be with them always and for all eternity. I decided to rewrite my usual author's note in honor of them and...well...
I still can't believe they're gone.
So when this request came, I decided to go for it. Now its going to be a bit unique. Think Star Wars Rebels mixed with elements of Force Unleashed. Not the second one, because while I played it, I considered that an utter bastardization that was way too short and we DO NOT SPEAK OF IT. So, to temper your expectations, yes, you CAN expect to see other jedi in this in addition to Kanan and the rest. Shaak Tii, Rahm Kota, etc. Whether they all survive, hmmm...
...you'll have to sit back and enjoy the show to see.
And if one wonders about Naruto's origins here, well...
The opening quote here gives a hint as to what to expect here.
Oh, and do try not to laugh too much, because this is going to be a WILD ride...
"The only thing I am surrounded by is fear. And dead men."
Steps of the Sith
At long last, the sealing had been completed.
Minato gazed down at the wailing newborn in his arms and silently lamented what he'd done. What he'd been forced to do. Naruto, his child-his heir!-bawled long and loud to the heavens, and the kage couldn't help but to wonder if the boy was even desparing his fate. Perhaps he was. Even as he fought to keep the smile on his face he felt himself slipping, his spirit seeping out of his body as the Death God extracted its toll for the price of his heroism. He longed to say something to his son-anything-to comfort him somehow, but the words refused to come. For all his will and might, he simply couldn't stave off any longer.
He could only smile.
His wife Kushina lay in front of him, as they both had been pierced in the stomach protecting their son from one of the Kyuubi's claws. Even now she shed tears for their progeny, his name stitched ever-so-lovingly into the blankets covering him. He was warm. He was safe. Their chakra was there, inside him, to correct the seal should it ever fail. Minato took heart in that. In a sense, they were still with him. Still there. Still watching over him.
They coud not however, stifle his cries.
For all his resolve, he couldn't help but feel guilty at what he had done to his baby boy. He'd denied him a life of normalcy. No one would look at him the same after this night. He knew some people may dislike him, but he wanted to believe they would see him as the little hero he was. He had to. He must. To think otherwise was to die with regret and that was something he dare not do. In a sense, he'd taken two birds with a single stone by turning his son into a Jinchuuriki; he protected his village with one hand and gave his son a power to help fight against the masked man that had wrought this horrible fate with another-
Then, something strange occurred.
Perhaps it was some side effect of the seal gone wrong, or some other eldritch effect he didn't understand.
Whatever the case, it simply...happened.
Naruto, poor, little Naruto who'd been forced to bear a burden no one should, suddenly found himself surrounded by a strange, swirling vortex. Minato scarcely had time to see it before the bawling babe disappeared. Pop. Vanished, his mewling cries echoing away on the wind. Just like that. There was no warning-no precedent-no explanation for this sudden phenomenon. His son, and the blankets swadling him on the altar, were suddenly gone in a burst of golden energy, leaving nothing but empty air and distant sound behind. Then, not even that.
Minato's final thought was one of sheer incredulity.
The Shinigami claimed him and Kushina a heartbeat later, their expressions frozen in disebelief as their bodies fell lifeless and listless; their souls going to the shinigami before they so much as struck the ground. Their last breath was their son's name.
They would never see him again.
From his perch in the treeline, Obito stifled a furious shout.
His lone arm clenched and unclenched, fingers knotting against his palm with enough force to draw blood beneath the glove. It had all gone wrong. Wrong, wrong wrong wrongwrongwrongwrong! He wanted to shout; to spit and snarl shriek and scream, but he held his silence. Something had gone wrong. Someone-something!-had interfered with him! He'd heard a woman's voice, a cheeky, "Ohhh, I don't think so!" whispered in his ear-and then everything had been taken from him, his plot dismantled at the very last instant.
Having made one last, desperate attempt to take the Kyuubi-rather, the host-he knew the fault lay with him, regardless of the unexpected interference. Furious with his old teacher, he had tried to grab the boy with his dojutsu and failed; his injuries and the outside intervention proving too much for him to properly grab hold of the whelp for anything more than a split second. Spirits, he didn't even know where he was. He wasn't even entirely certain what'd happened. And if his mistake had somehow meddled with the seal, bungled it, somehow...released that energy...
Who knew where the boy might end up?
The Kyuubi yowled at its new confines and slammed against its cage, dashing its face into the bars in anger. It too realized that something was wrong, and with every fiber of its being it fought to escape the strange fate befalling it. Jaws snapped at the bars of its cage, claws clanking harshly, but to no avail. Strange tethers of energy sank into its fur, pulling its power away, siphoning it-just as its Yin half had been. But this was no mere sapping of its strength. And it did not cease, pulling more and more of its might-its very hatred-from itself even as it struggle.
It roared helplessly as its chakra was ripped from it, its body becoming little mor than a shriveled version of itself.
Upon the lock of the cage, the piece of paper with the kanji for seal on it flew off and a spiral lock replaced it, closing tightly. Furious and growing weaker by the moment, it did the only thing it could think to do. Perhaps the most spiteful act it could commit. The large mass of chakra flew through the tiny boy's body and lit it an angry, ghastly red from within.
Warped it, changed it, altered it, even as space and time twisted around its host.
Then it was flung...
Straight into the arms of an Empire.
(...Meanwhile, in a Galaxy Far, Far Away...)
If there was a hell in space, it was Mustafar.
A scorching lava world comprised of molten magma and a thin crust capable of giving way at any moment, this planet was raw death and despair on an almost primal level. Its very atmosphere was nearly poisonous in its own right; brimming as it did with noxious fumes threatening to choke any who lingered overlong...if a fiery death didn't claim them first. There was no good here-no semblance of kindness or generosity to be found. Only the most cruelly depraved individuals willingly dwelt here of their own volition, and those who escaped their grasp still shuddered at the nightmares. But some craved that darkness.
Everything here was steeped in the dark side.
It was a evil, a veritable living fire-pit, a world only sparsely populated, so corrupted that few dared venture below the clouds. For there was no light. Only dark. Still, Mustafar and its minerals were valuable to the Empire as a whole, and like so many other planets, it serve a purpose. Another infinitesimal cog in the machine. One did not simply venture here on a whim; even in the days of the Clone Wars the Separatists and the-then-Republic had chosen not to fight over this inhospitable world, and the darkness within.
Darth Vader found it oddly fitting, watching the lava writhe and churn from the throne of his fortress.
Watching the lava wind its way endless still felt the pain now, just as he had when he'd lost his duel to Obi-Wan on that fateful day.
This planet had stolen so much from him in the past. His life. His limbs. His strength. Padme. Even the promise of a family. But for all it had taken, Mustafar had given Vader something in return. The death of Anakin Skywalker. He had risen from his ashes, reborn. Purpose. Focus. Will. Power personified. He was all of these things and more. Not a whiny brat who thought himself above the galaxy. What a fool he was! Part of him wished he could return to the past if only to give the impudent brat a much needed thrashing. Skywalker thought he could change his destiny, make the world bend to his whims. Anakin would've raged and shrieked about this place, despising it and wanting nothing more than to be far from this place.
Vader knew better.
Though he did hate this planet, despised it, loathed it to its very core, this place also granted him a strange, twisted peace. It served as a wellspring for his hatred, a reminder of his wrath even as he worked to hunt the remaining jedi to extinction. That he dwelt here was something of a blessing in disguise. So that he might never forget, never err, lest he slip. There could be no turning back after what he'd done; indeed, there was no longer anything to return to, and all this done by his own hand.
Thus it was here that he'd made his sanctum, recently constructed, for this purpose.
Unbound by the chains of the Jedi Order, unfettered by guilt or remorse, he was free to reach his potential. To fulfill his destiny. FOr he would bring order and stability to the Empire even if he had to drag it, kicking and screaming. And when the opportunity presented itself he would take an apprentice of his own and destroy his master for making him into the monster that he was today. It would not be a quick death. This Vader swore. He would take his time with the conniving Emperor, relish the screams of Sidious as he extracted his revenge.
He could find purpose in that, at least.
Unbidden, his mind flicked back to the credo of the Sith themselves, the very words that guided his actions.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, he gained strength. Through strength, he gained power. Through power, so too, did he gain victory. Through victory his chains were broken.
And it was there, as he dwelt on the Sith and their chains, that everything changed.
The armored sith glanced up as a distressed voice intruded on his thoughts, momentarily nonplussed as a clone trooper darted into his inner sanctum. Fear radiated from the man in waves of palpable tension and he could see why; his pristine white armor lay covered in scorch marks, burned away entirely in places to expose raw, red flesh beneath. He walked-stumbled, really-with a noticeable limp, suggesting he was even more wounded than his armor allowed, and in a great deal of pain from those horrid burns. In short, it looked as though he'd either fallen into one of the lava streams or been horribly burned by someone or something.
Vader sympathized. He knew all too well the agony of such things, watching the clone hurriedly abased himself and salute him.
"What is it, captain?"
"We're under attack!" Even as the clone captain spoke a great quake shook the tower, threatening to send him stumbling away. Vader endured the tremor with ease, rooting himself in place with the Force even as he arched a withered eyebrow beneath the suit. A hand involuntarily formed a fist. His blood sang at the thought. A fight was just what he needed. Whomever was fool enough to attack him here in his home had no idea what they were in for.
"Do the rebels dare strike at me here?"
"No, sir...it is a child!"
There was a silence.
"A child!" the captain exclaimed! "We have found a child! I can't explain it, but he's alive!"
Vader found himself suddenly and intensely grateful for his own mask; because it kept the captain from seeing the look of utter befuddlement he wore.
"Interesting. And you say he lives?" a dark hand gestured, beckoning. "Bring him to me."
Impossibly, the trooper looked like he wanted to shrink even further into his armor.
"W-W-We have tried, my lord...but my squad was obliterated to a man." At the deafening silence that filled the meditation chamber, he dared continue. "The boy is merely an infant-but he is impossible to approach! All of them were atomized the moment they came near! I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself, and I barely escaped...
Vader's curiosity found itself piqued.
The captain visibly stiffened as the full weight of the Sith's gaze settled upon him, promising pain if he didn't respond promptly. "Its just that, sir; he's surrounded by a strange, well, an energy field of some sort-one that destroys or badly burns any who dare get close! We can't do anything to stop it!" He stiffened anxiously as the dark lord suddenly rose from the throne, his jet black form descending the stairs in a series of slow, heavy steps. Those black lenses fixed upon him with the burning intensity of a thousand suns, condemning him for his cowardice.
"Very well. I will see to the matter myself...
Fear turned to relief in the Force as he swept past, clearing two steps at a time. As he made for the door and the chaos outside, his thoughts once more turned inward.
It was a shame, really.
He'd grown rather accustomed to Rex's unflinching resolve in the past, his refusal to back down, ever willing to fight against impossible odds. Not this fear of the captains and lesser clones. He was still too new to them, a terror in black that most instinctively avoided. Even the commanders were wary of him, uncertain of what to think of this man who wielded a lightsaber like a jedi, yet clearly was not. What would Rex think of him, if he were to see him now? Perhaps, he might yet find him and...no, that was irrelevant. A needless thought, one he dismissed immediately as he waved a hand towards the door controls.
He needn't have bothered.
Protected as he was by his suit, Vader did not feel the hot rush of Mustafar's atmosphere. Its searing air did not warm his scorched flesh, nor scorch his lungs. He took a moment to gaze up at the cloudy, ash-filled sky, and felt his wrath begin to burn anew. Yes. Anger was his strength. His focus. He followed the captain at a brisk pace for several minutes, not yet drawing his saber even when he beheld the ruined bodies of the clones. He simply continued on at his inevitable pace. This close he could hear something that of a strange whine, almost as if the air itself were trying to get away from something-
Scarce had he cleared the rise then a red lash of energy arced outward and all hell broke loose.
His lightsaber sprang to life like a genie from a bottle, the brilliant red blade manifesting itself in a flash and interposing itself between its master and the eerie scarlet whip. Vader glimpsed a strange flickery of red in his peripherals and then it was gone, batted back by his blade. Whatever it was, it was red and it was terribly fast, forcing him to strain against it.
'What is this?!'
Raw wrath spilled out, assaulting him with emotion.
The latter so strong he felt it as if it were his own, a cold fist gripping his guts and squeezing. For a moment he froze, but only a moment. And in that moment,t he strange red energy struck. But Vader was prepared. He caught the tether on his blade and lashed out, cutting down sharply upon the red creature. Not with his blade, but the hilt, driving it sharply against the creature's head. That was all it took for the vicious tether to recoil violently from the blow. A moment's conflict and it was over, the strange presence cowed, retreating rapidly, the strange construct of energy vanishing to reveal the one beneath.
And Vader saw.
By the Force, how had he gotten here?
It was indeed an infant, seemingly only minutes old, wrapped in white cloth.
He saw him as much as he felt him.
This was indeed the Force, or something so alike, so closely in tune with it that it he could not tell the difference. That baffling red power...it both intrigued and unsettled him. Such strength in one so young! Such raw emotion! Whatever it was, he'd bested it. Now he had only to bring his saber down into the mewling babe, and he would be done with this...distraction. Couldn't he? Irritated, he shoved the guilt aside. He'd butchered unarmed younglings at the jedi temple without batting an eyelash. Surely this would be no different. So what was this hesitation?! A glimmer of Skywalker, perhaps? Was he truly that weak? This child was clearly a threat, and if he ever learned to master this power, then he would be a formidable one indeed.
Remarkably enough, the choice was made for him.
"Thanks for that, sir." the clone captain informed him, brisk marching up beside him. "I'll be sure to inform the Emperor of what happened here."
Vader made a split second decision.
"Captain." he replied. "You will not inform him of this."
The clone took a step back, abashed.
"My Lord? Surely you do not plan to-gah!
Whatever else he might've said died as the Dark Lord casually curled two fingers inward, forming a claw with his hand. The unfortunate clone captain had an instant to realize his mistake before the air left his lungs, as though forcibly squeezed out by an invisible fist. His neck followed a heartbeat later with an audible crack, his broken body crashed to the ground in a broken tangle of arms and legs; taking with him the precious secret he'd intended to report. Darth Vader did not not laugh at his demise. Instead he stood there quietly, stiffly, considering.
For the boy had stopped crying.
Now he looked up at him.
Through red lenses Vader beheld the name stitched into the thick clothing sheathing the boy, and his curiosity piqued.
What manner of name was that?
After another moment's consideration, Vader stretched out with the Force once more, taking hold of the captain's body and hoisting it into the air. The boy cooed quietly, fascinated by the display. Vader gestured with a dismissive flick of the wrist and the captain's corpse sailed through the air, landing with a splash into a nearby lava flow. It sank quickly. Within minutes nothing remained. The dark deed done, the Sith returned his gaze to the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. To the boy who, suddenly, had no fear for him.
Something stirred in the blackened pit of his heart.
A child, here, with such power on Mustafar no less.
The very place where he'd lost everything.
Against all reason and logic, against his better judgement and having a very bad feeling about this decision as a whole, the man that had once been Anakin Skywalker felt a touch of sympathy. No, this was too distant to truely be called sympathy. Pity, perhaps? Whatever the case, he reached down. The mewling infant did not protest his presence, nor the heat of the air, or even his bulky arm curling around him. He simply stared at him with those wide blue eyes, quietly peering up at him in mild curiosity.
Vader would've taken crying.
He would vastly prefer crying any day.
But he didn't know what to do with this silence.
Then he realized why the boy had been so silent; registered the now damp bundle in his arms. He paused, a scowl tugging at his features behind the mask. For a fleeting instant Vader honestly questioned his own sanity and wondered if he shouldn't just toss the babe into the lava and be done with it. Because the boy had soiled himself. Peed on him. HIM! A Dark Lord of the Sith! Why the unmitigated gall of that little...!
Not a heartbeat later, the little lad started laughing.
"I find your lack of fear disturbing." Darth Vader growled.
Impossibly, the boy only laughed ever harder, utterly delighted.
It seemed the Force truly possessed a twisted sense of humor, indeed.
Exhaling deeply, babe in his arms, he began the long trek back to his castle.
(...Several Years Later...)
The Blade dwelt in darkness.
Every moment passed as an eternity, each second a sliver of infinity as he waited for the end to come. Deprived of all his critical senses sight, sound, smell, even the very sensation of touch itself. He was wholly alone within the void. Kneeling, the young man turned his head, silently on edge, awaiting the pivotal moment. He knew the attack would come, but not from where, and thus he waited. Even where he to open his eyes, he would see nothing but blackness and knew it to . Nothing at all.
There was nothing here.
Nothing...save the Force itself.
Even deprived of all else he still had his emotions, and he drew power from them. He felt nothing, saw nothing, yet he was aware of everything. This room was his home. He knew its every facet, ever aspect of it, even without the Force to aid him. The Blade knew and he saw, and in seeing, he was aware.
That high, vaunted ceiling overhead, from which an assassin droid might soundlessly drop.
The perilous floor beneath his very feet, capable of dropping away at any moment.
Electrified walls, waiting to deliver a powerful shock if he strayed too close.
Even the air itself was a trap, made thin by some machine to test him.
The Blade knew it all, and was was wholly prepared for it all.
Thanks to the Darkness.
Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.
Even now, he still didn't entirely accept that credo. Hadn't given himself to it completely. Strength came from emotion, and emotion evolved into passion. Which led to strength and, eventually, victory. The very idea of suppressing his emotions as the jedi were rumored to have done was an alien one to him. Foreign and distasteful. No, he could not live without his emotions any more than they could him. That much he accepted. But could peace truly be a lie?
His master claimed it was, yet he served the Emperor-and by definition the Empire itself-to maintain order and stability. Was that not an attempt to create peace? He also served the Empire, and in that way, hoped that he might in some small way repay the man to whom he owed everything. In that way, he found strength and purpose. He was Vader's Blade, the Blade of the Empire, his weapon, his apprentice. Only knowing his name by sheer happenstance, for it had been stitched into the blanket he'd been found in. Vader seldom called him it these days, but the Blade knew. He remembered.
He much rather preferred his title.
He understood he was different and apart from those known as the Inquisitors; they served their own grand purpose and he, his own. They did not answer to him, nor he them. If anything, the servants of the Emperor seemed to disdain him. Fear him. Sometimes he wondered if the Emperor himself was actually aware of him at all. Naruto knew not if there was some masterful deception at work here, if he was just a pawn in a game he didn't truly understand. In all honesty, he didn't care. He had a purpose here. He served the greater good through his emotions, even if it annoyed him a times-
The attack came without warning.
The Dark Side hissed a warning and the Blade jerked his head forward, nearly kissing the stone floor in his haste. Sensation came rushing back as a searing pain made itself known in the back of his neck; a far cry from what would have transpired had he not evaded in time. Even with his hands chained, he was not unarmed. Those who had the Force never were. In the instant that it took his opponent to raise their weapon, he'd found his footing and shattered his chains, spinning to face them.
In the next instant he roared and lashed out with both hands splayed, funneling the full wrath of the dark side through his palms in a monumental effort.
Quite simply, he pushed.
A startled grunt greeted him as his opponent flew backward, as though launched from a canon.
"There," he grinned, "Did you like that?"
Light and sound returned suddenly, sharply, to the room. An angry, sharp squeal of sundered steel protesting vocally as a humanoid figure struck it and lay still. The Empire's Blade blinked swiftly, struggling to clear the spots from his vision as his eyes adjusted to the unexpected presence of the dim lightning, chest heaving from the abrupt exertion. Blue eyes flickering red. A heartbeat passed, and his attacker made no move to strike at him again, his body slumping slightly against the wall.
Then he rose.
This creature didn't even have eyes, not truly.
All black armor and leather menace, its towered over him, seeming to swallow the room in its sheer shadow. That angular, imposing helm leered down at him in stoic silence; as though daring him to object further. A low, rhythmic breathing arose from deep with the man's-or was it a machine?-chest, the sole sign of life within the cold creature's otherwise blank countenance. If he'd been at all injured by the vicious Force Push, he did little to show it. As ever, Naruto couldn't help but feel a touch of awe in his master's presence. Nothing seemed to harm him. He was an immutable pillar, utterly unshakable.
This was Darth Vader.
In a twisted sense of irony, he was the closest thing he had to a parent.
"Impressive." the dark lord rasped as he drew near, igniting his blade. "Most impressive. But you are not a Sith yet. And you are still disrespectful."
Naruto dropped to a knee, even as he hid an impudent grin.
"I blame my teacher."
Vader could've cut him down then and there.
But he didn't.
Oh, Naruto knew full well he was toeing a dangerous line when it came to his veiled barbs and jabs, but he also knew his limits. Which buttons to press...and not to press. Vader for instance, did not take kindly to being questioned in public. Nor did he tolerate outright acts of insubordination. Or being called "Father" for that matter. He had learned this lesson early in his youth and resolved never to repeat that mistake. Besides, he had an inkling of what was coming next, and he daren't speak up again for fear of changing the dark lord's mind.
"You were weak when I found you, but now, your hatred has become your strength. At last, the Dark Side is your ally."
A searing heat brushed his right shoulder, followed by his left.
"Rise, my apprentice."
Naruto did as he was bade.
It felt...cleansing to finally hear the words. Freeing. As if a terrible weight had been lifted from his shoulders and replaced with a silken mantle of responsibility. Less noticeable perhaps, but by no means lighter. This was one that he was glad to accept.
"Your training is nearly complete." Vader informed him. "It is time for you to face your first true test."
Naruto nearly sighed, then thought better of it.
He was to chase rebels, then.
They thought they were in the right, poor sods.
The Empire's Blade saw it the other way around; if one wanted to affect change, the best way to do so was from within. Not without. Rebellions only held weight so long as those behind them had the strength and will needed to spur them onward. From what little he'd seen and heard of them, these Rebels lacked that. They thought they could make things different, thought themselves the heroes when in reality, they were only painting themselves the villains in this conflict. He almost pitied them.
What Vader said instead startled him, however.
"You will be sent to Felucia. It is believed they are sheltering a jedi known as Shaak Ti. You will capture her and bring her to me."
Vader's helmet reflected no emotion.
"If you fail, Admiral Constantine will bombard the planet from orbit to ensure there are no survivors."
A cold snake of fear coiled in Naruto's gut.
"Wait, bombard?!" he exclaimed, aghast. "Bombing them would just stiffen their resolve and kill innocents-
In that instant, he felt the faintest brush of invisible fingers against his windpipe.
Vader had never outright used the Force to choke him before
"That is why you will not fail. You will hunt the jedi down and bring her to me. Alive."
Vader had always been adamant in exterminating jedi. Yet he knew better than to question him. Still, Naruto found his peerless opinion of the his peer had been shaken. Glassing the planet. Vader had just discussed the idea of glassing a fucking planet as though it were of no concern to him. Surely the Empire didn't stand for that? Surely it had to be better than that...? No, it was because Vader trusted in him. That was the reason. The Jedi were evil, he'd told him this countless times, and they needed to be wiped out lest they spread their hateful teachings to the rest of the galaxy. He was in the right, here.
In that instant, the Empire's Blade made a decision.
He would do as he'd been bade.
He would hunt her down.
By that decision alone, he changed the fate of the entire galaxy.
A/N: And there we are. Now, one might wonder how Naruto has the Force at all in this, or if he's simply a very skilled fighter. To answer your questions, Naruto DOES have some semblance of that good ol' chakra, but he possesses the Force through a twist in the seal. One might even say it opened him to it, though not entirely in a good way. The rules for his universe and that of "Star Wars" as a whole are radically
I wanted to stick with the core concept that Naruto, as a whole, is a good person, no matter his upbringing. Yes, he can be angered, and corrupted somewhat, but pure evil? Don't think so. Look at what he dealt with as a boy! And he STILL turned out to be a somewhat decent-if silly-shinobi in the end. Of course, Star Wars is a whole different extreme. THIS Naruto has been told to use his emotions, to trust them. He has never been downtrodden, in any sense of the word, and as a result, he's very confident. But despite all his training, all the indoctrination, he doesn't like to hurt.
Case in point, his argument against bombing Felucia.
Yes, he's naive at times, but he genuinely believes that the Jedi are evil because its ALL HE HAS BEEN TOLD SINCE HE WAS A BABY. He knows the Empire itself is flawed, and wants to make up for those flaws by fixing it from within. So, no, despite the efforts of Vader and Palpatine alike, he isn't wholly corrupted. But when he gets mad, ohhhhh boy does Kurama slip out. I honestly pity any fool who pisses himself off that much, but I think we know just who might...
Time will only tell if he sticks with it or joins the Rebellion.
So in the Immortal Words of the Emperor himself...
...yes, use your emotions! Give in! REVIEW!
And of course, enjoy the preview!
"Aren't you a bit...nice for an Inquisitor?"
"That's slander." Naruto sniffed, extricating his blade from the corpse. "I like to think of myself as upstanding citizen of the Empire. Unlike you."
"You just stabbed that officer."
"Well, nobody's perfect. And he was an idiot. Really, I did the galaxy a favor."