Naruto: Call Me Akuma

We walked for a few minutes through the vast bamboo forest until we reached our destination—a large, empty circular platform nearly 250 feet in diameter. The open space felt immense and desolate, amplifying the eerie stillness around us. However, as soon as my father stepped onto the platform, a massive aircraft descended gracefully from the sky, landing gently in the center. 

The aircraft was enormous, approximately 90 feet in length, yet its descent was so smooth that not a single bamboo leaf was disturbed. Its design resembled that of a futuristic car, though it was unmistakably not a car—it hovered in the air like something out of a dream. 

As the ramp began to lower, a flash of red caught my eye—four crimson feathers swayed gently in the air, becoming more distinct with every inch of descent. The feathers extended downward, connecting to an imposing helmet that exuded both elegance and menace. Slowly, the figure behind the ramp emerged from the shadows. 

The helmet was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, crowned with a dramatic eagle motif that stretched across the top, nearly obscuring the wearer's face. Beneath it, a stark white mask concealed their features, save for a pair of hauntings, blood-red eyes. Those eyes burned with chilling intensity, as though they had witnessed nothing but carnage for a lifetime. They seemed to stare into the depths of my soul, sending shivers down my spine. 

Then, four armored men stepped forward. Their armor—a striking blend of medieval knight design and futuristic sophistication—gleamed brilliantly in gold and red. The sunlight danced across the intricately polished plates, giving them an almost divine radiance. Towering at an imposing height of nearly 10 to 11 feet, they stood almost on par with my father's colossal stature. 

Their helmets, adorned with menacing designs, radiated an air of dread, amplifying their already overwhelming presence. The armor they wore was impossibly thick—at least four to five inches—making them resemble walking fortresses, impenetrable and indomitable. Every movement they made exuded disciplined grace, their towering figures casting long, intimidating shadows that stretched endlessly beneath the golden light. 

Their boots were colossal; absurdly, I imagined I could fit my entire body inside one with room to spare. Every detail of their appearance, from the intricate engravings to the perfectly polished surfaces, exuded power, authority, and intimidation. 

Each of the armored men carried a spear taller than themselves. Holstered at their belts were handguns that seemed nearly twice my size, and on their left sides hung daggers sheathed in ornate golden scabbards. Every piece of their equipment was meticulously painted in red and gold, a visual statement of their allegiance. On the chest of their armor was an insignia that caught my attention—a skull with wings spread wide, radiating authority and dominance. Their left hands held massive shields, each as tall as half their bodies, further enhancing their indomitable presence. 

While their equipment shared commonalities, their individuality was undeniable. Each knight bore distinct engravings and unique modifications to their armor. One wore a flowing crimson cape that billowed behind him like a banner of war. Another had a lion's head molded onto his shoulder plate, its golden mane gleaming like fire in the sunlight. Despite their shared discipline, the auras they exuded were as distinct as their designs—each radiating a unique intensity. 

Their presence was utterly overwhelming. The weight of their combined aura pressed down on me, suffocating and inescapable. Each step they took seemed to reverberate through the ground—not physically, but through the sheer force of their dominance. Their glowing, blood-red eyes felt like those of apex predators, assessing me with chilling detachment. 

A gnawing unease settled in my chest. Every instinct screamed that these were beings who could end me with a single thought, should they choose to. That realization made my body tremble involuntarily, as though even my subconscious understood the gravity of their existence. 

As I watched them draw closer, a strange sense of familiarity tugged at my mind. Their gleaming golden-red armor, their towering, imposing stature—it all stirred a memory buried deep within me. There was something eerily recognizable about their presence, their designs, their very essence. 

I wracked my brain until it clicked—they resembled the from Warhammer 40k. The thought sent a chill through me. Was I in the 40k universe? If so, I was in serious shit. The 40k universe was a nightmare—full of death, war, and fanatical devotion to the Emperor. 

But as I glanced around, doubts began to creep in. The language, the culture, and the overall atmosphere here didn't match the grim darkness of the 40k universe. There was no mention of the Emperor or any familiar symbols beyond the aesthetic similarities of the soldiers. I couldn't afford to jump to conclusions just yet. I needed more information before making a judgment. 

When the armored men reached us, they split into two groups—two turned left and two turned right, standing opposite each other. In perfect synchronization, they placed their hands on their chests and bowed deeply. Their movements were precise and deliberate, reflecting absolute discipline and respect. 

Seeing them bow before me, despite their overwhelming power and presence—the very aura of apex predators—filled me with a deep, primal sense of satisfaction. The sight of such formidable beings lowering themselves beneath my feet was intoxicating. 

My father remained unfazed by the display, as if it were routine. Without breaking stride, he walked forward, passing between the armored men with complete indifference. 

As we passed them, the four soldiers silently fell into steps behind us, following us toward the aircraft. Their footsteps were heavy yet controlled, further emphasizing their formidable presence. The weight of their authority was palpable, and though they didn't speak, their sheer existence seemed to echo an unspoken command of respect. 

The ramp behind us slowly closed, sealing us inside the aircraft. At the center of the spacious interior stood a large, arch-shaped sofa. Circular tables were in the middle; on them, holograms provided a stunning 360° view of the outside. In the corner to the right, a spread of drinks and food was neatly arranged, where two beautiful women stood, their presence as composed as their posture. At the front, I noticed the faint outline of a control room, its details obscured by a metallic door. 

We took our seats on the sofa while the four guards remained stationed behind us, their unyielding posture and crimson eyes giving the impression that nothing could escape their gaze. Moments later, the two very beautiful women approached us, their elegant steps graceful yet betraying their unease. Standing about six feet tall, their height was impressive; though, in the company of towering figures like the guards, they appeared comparatively fragile. 

Their wide, fearful eyes reminded me of rabbits in the presence of wolves, as if every step closer to us brought them nearer to their doom. With synchronized grace, they placed a hand over their chests and bowed deeply before offering drinks to my mother and father. My father politely declined, and my mother, being a robot, had no need for sustenance and also refused. 

The rejection seemed to strike the women like a bolt of lightning. Their faces paled in an instant, contorting into expressions of dread, as though they had just witnessed an unspeakable tragedy. The four guards behind us fixed their ferocious, unrelenting stares on the women, their crimson eyes sharp and unforgiving. It was as if the guards were silently warning them that any sudden or uncalculated movement would lead to their immediate demise. 

Under such oppressive scrutiny, the two women began to tremble uncontrollably. Barely able to contain their fear, they slowly retreated to the corner where they had originally been stationed, their heads bowed low. Only then did the guards relent, their terrifying gaze shifting away. The women, visibly shaken, let out breaths of relief, their trembling bodies resembling prey narrowly escaping the jaws of a predator. It was clear that, in their minds, they had just survived a brush with death. 

Afterward, my father signaled for the journey to begin. In just a few seconds, the aircraft lifted off. The hologram before me displayed the log house and the bamboo forest below, slowly shrinking into the distance as we ascended. 

This experience made one thing abundantly clear—my family was incredibly important and powerful. 

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Also, Beggar King has left a few pop culture references and memes. If you find them, comment, and Beggar King will give you a like. 

If we reach 100 stones, I'll reward you all with a bonus chapter!