It felt as if two enormous forces were colliding inside my body, pulling every part of me in opposite directions without leaving even the slightest room for resistance, as though this body was nothing more than a fragile vessel forced to contain something that was never meant to exist together in one place.
It was not ordinary pain, but more like two streams of energy crashing from both inside and outside, endlessly colliding at the deepest point of my consciousness, trying to tear apart the boundary between body, mind, and something I could no longer even call “myself.”
My muscles suddenly tensed, hard as stone, as if they had been frozen in time.
Every fiber felt forcibly halted, as though an invisible hand had grabbed and locked down my entire bodily system at once.
The veins in my arms felt as if they were being twisted from within, slowly and steadily squeezed, the pressure spreading up to my shoulders and chest, making my breathing stagger in the middle of an undefined agony.
Every contraction in my body felt unnatural, as if it no longer obeyed the commands of my consciousness, but was instead being rewritten from the inside, letter by letter, structure by structure, without any chance for me to refuse.
My hands trembled violently, fingers clenching without control, nails digging deep into my palms until the pain spread outward, yet even that was only a small background note compared to the far greater storm of pressure.
Something far deeper was pushing from within my very bones, as if trying to break apart the most fundamental structure of this body, as though I was no longer human, but a vessel being tested to its absolute limit.
My head throbbed heavily, each pulse feeling like a hammer striking the inside of my skull.
White flashes appeared behind my eyelids, blinding, sharp, and irregular, as though light itself was being forced to be born from within my consciousness.
My thoughts felt shattered, every second as if fragments of my memory were breaking away, drifting, then being pulled back in a form that was no longer the same as before.
But the most unbearable part was my eyes. The heat did not come from outside, but from deep within my eye sockets, like a fire with no source that continued to burn without end, crawling into my optic nerves with increasing intensity.
There were no tears, only a burning sensation that kept growing, as if something within my vision was being forcibly dismantled from its roots.
As if something was being forcibly formed within them, tearing through layer after layer, reconstructing an incomprehensible structure, then destroying it again, repeating endlessly without pattern or mercy.
Each cycle felt like an experiment being conducted directly inside my own body, without anesthesia, without distance, without any pause to breathe between waves of pain that kept rising.
My vision began to tremble violently, the world around me cracking, thin lines spreading from the center of my sight like glass losing its strength, expanding in every direction without restraint.
The reality before me was no longer stable, as if it were only a thin layer that could collapse at any moment, like a fragile curtain hiding something far darker behind it.
The trees around me bent unnaturally, shadows stretching in the wrong directions, while light split into scattered fragments moving out of sync with the real world.
The colors around me shifted without rules, too bright, too dark, then shifting again, as if reality itself was losing its grip on existence.
The ground beneath my feet felt slightly unstable, not truly moving, but as if my sense of balance itself was beginning to collapse little by little.
The sounds around me slowly faded away, replaced by a growing hum inside my own head.
That humming didn’t come from the outside, but from within me, like a resonance that shouldn’t exist, yet kept intensifying, pressing against my consciousness from all directions at once.
Amid that crushing pain, my thoughts began to spiral out of control. Naruto. Reincarnation. Uzumaki. Uchiha. Mangekyo.
Those names appeared like fragments of information that should never exist within the same space of consciousness, colliding without order, without meaning, without any explanation I could grasp.
Those terms kept spinning inside my head, things that should only exist in fictional stories.
Yet precisely because everything felt like a dream, it became far more terrifying.
Because there was one undeniable fact: pain could never be faked, never be manufactured by an imagination lost in delusion.
This body… this sensation… everything was far too real to be dismissed as a temporary illusion that would fade once I woke up.
As if it was the simplest proof that all of this was truly happening, not merely a fragment of collapsing consciousness.
[The System of Reincarnation and World Transmigration has completed its task! I hope you find happiness in this world! Goodbye!]
That voice appeared without a clear source, neither loud nor soft, yet it carried a strange quality.
After that sentence ended, everything felt like it collapsed at once, like a structure that had long stood on a fragile foundation finally losing all its support in a single fleeting moment.
My consciousness was completely severed, like a cable cut off from its power source, and what remained was darkness.
No sound, only emptiness that felt deeper, wider, and colder than any pain I had ever experienced before.
...
...
...
“Haaah… what bad luck.” I slowly opened my eyes, but my vision was still blurry, as if the world hadn’t fully finished loading back into my consciousness.
My breathing felt heavy, a slight gasp in my chest, as though my lungs had just been forced to start working again after stopping for an unmeasurable amount of time.
Above my head, streaks of blue sky began to appear through gaps between tall trees swaying gently in the wind.
Leaves rustled slowly, casting shifting patterns of shadow across my face, trembling softly as if the world itself was still not fully stable.
Sunlight pierced through the gaps in the foliage, falling in thin beams that stung my eyes, forcing me to blink a few times before my vision gradually adjusted.
A light breeze brushed against my skin, cold, real, and undeniable. The sensation was too clear to be called a dream.
The smell of wet soil and damp leaves slowly filled my senses, carrying the distinct scent of a forest, forming a simple realization in my mind: I was still alive.
“I got hit by a truck… and then died…” I thought slowly, trying to piece together fragments of consciousness scattered like broken glass in my mind. “And now… I’ve awakened in the dangerous world of Naruto.”
I raised my hand and pressed my temple gently, not because it hurt, but because my mind felt too full, like a container suddenly forced to hold an overwhelming flood of information.
Everything that had just happened still felt like scattered fragments of memory that hadn’t settled into a coherent timeline.
Yet inside me, something felt different, something like a system that had just finished activating, like a mechanism that had been dormant and had now finally opened its eyes.
Like a program that had just completed its final installation process inside my own consciousness.
[Note: This is my other novel: As a Blacksmith in the World of Jujutsu Kaisen. As the White Spider-Man in Earth-76 with the Spider-Man System]