Our story kicks off with the Infinite Tsukuyomi — the Eye of the Moon Plan.

Team 7 is fighting Kaguya across dimensions. On Earth, the entire world is cocooned in genjutsu. 

Only a handful can resist the moonlight: the reanimated Hokage, the Sage of Six Paths… and one more.

The Raikage.

He's already shattered his cocoon fifty times, killing himself in the dream to wake up. 

Fifty-one now.

Again, the dream traps him.

Naked women everywhere — big tits, wet mouths, hands all over him. Some sucking his cock, others licking his balls and nipples, a few kissing him deep and sloppy.

"Raikage-sama…" they moan.

He mutters, "Enough of this bullshit dream," and drives a kunai through his own throat.

Long gasp. Eyes snap open inside the cocoon.

"How many fucking times do I have to die to stay awake?"

He rips the bag open with bare hands and crawls out, sticking to shadows where the moonlight is weaker. Pain keeps the genjutsu from pulling him under completely.

He spots a kunai on the ground. Grins. Drives it straight through his left shoulder.

"That'll keep me sharp."

He starts moving across the battlefield — roots everywhere, cocoons hanging like fruit, the God Tree towering, the moon with its red Sharingan staring down.

"So this is the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Pain helps, but it's still there. Gotta stay focused."

Then he hears voices. One male, one female.

"Who's there?" he calls.

Male voice: "A mortal who can hear us."

Female voice: "He must be close to death."

Male: "No fear in him. He's killed himself in the dream over and over just to get here."

Male again: "He's perfect. The kind of man who wants to own the world."

Direct to the Raikage: "Are you faithful to your wife?"

Raikage smirks. "Wife, never. But I have lots of affairs."

Female voice, excited: "He's exactly who we need to get into the mortal world."

Male voice: "We can help you. Give you power. In return, you spread lust across the world."

Raikage: "Meaning?"

Female: "Every woman will crave your cock."

Raikage laughs. "Nice offer, but I'm an old man. How's that supposed to work?"

Male: "We'll make you young again. Prime. And give you… extras."

Raikage: "Why me?"

Male voice, irritated: "Too many questions. We'll find someone else."

Raikage: "Wait. Deal?"

Inside his head: Too easy. Genjutsu again?

He yanks the kunai from his shoulder and slits his throat.

Male voice sighs. "Why don't mortals ever trust gods?"

A pulse of power.

"Arise."

Raikage gasps awake — but not in the cocoon this time.

He touches his throat. No wound.

"How the fuck am I alive?"

Male voice: "I turned back your time. Believe us now?"

Raikage: "…Yeah."

Male voice, deep and commanding: "The gifts my lady and I gave you — figure them out yourself. Use them. But don't draw the attention of the god of justice."

"Look at your hands."

Raikage does. Smooth, strong, young.

Male voice: "Now go save your world… and fuck every hot woman you want along the way."

Raikage slams a fist into the ground, cracking stone.

"I'm on it."

The Raikage moved across the battlefield, boots crunching roots, eyes scanning.

Then he spotted him — the Fourth Hokage, reanimated, lightning crackling around him.

Raikage closed the distance fast. "Talk. What's the situation?"

Fourth glanced at him, reluctant. "Naruto and the rest of Team 7 are fighting Kaguya in her dimensions."

Raikage's brow furrowed at the new name, but he spotted the other three Hokage and the floating old man glowing with power — the Sage of Six Paths.

He jumped straight up to the Sage's level.

"Hey, old timer. How do we end this shit?"

Sage's voice calm, ancient. "Two ways: seal or kill my mother. Or destroy the God Tree — harder than killing her."

Raikage grinned. One leap and he was at the top of the tree.

Hands out. "Lightning Claps."

He pulled every spark of lightning from the air, mixed it with his own chakra until his arms glowed blue-white, and started hammering the trunk like it owed him money.

One. Two. Ten punches.

The entire God Tree exploded into nothing.

Raikage didn't wait. "Instant Teleport — to Kaguya."

Blink.

In an instant, the world blurred around him—a flash of crackling lightning and warped space—and he reappeared in Kaguya's icy, gravity-defying dimension. Below him, the goddess floated like a ghost, her pale hair whipping in the unnatural wind, rinne-sharingan eyes glowing red with divine fury. Naruto and Sasuke hovered nearby, chakra cloaks flickering, Kakashi, Obito, and Sakura frozen in mid-battle stances, all of them battered but defiant.

The Raikage didn't waste a second. He dropped like a meteor, one massive hand shooting out to clamp around Kaguya's slender neck. His fingers dug in, chakra surging through them like electric chains. She let out a startled gasp—her first real sound of surprise—as he slammed her down into the frozen ground, the impact cracking the dimension's floor in a web of fractures that echoed like thunder.

Naruto's eyes widened. "What the—Raikage?!" 

Sasuke's sharingan spun. "How did he get here?" 

Kakashi muttered, "That's impossible..." 

Obito and Sakura just stared, jaws slack, as the goddess who had toyed with them like insects was suddenly pinned under the Cloud leader's boot.

Kaguya thrashed, her third eye flaring, black rods shooting from her sleeves to impale him. But the Raikage's free hand batted them away like flies, his lightning cloak exploding to life and shattering them mid-air. "Release your chakra," he commanded, voice a low rumble that shook the air. "All of it."

She snarled, trying to phase through his grip, but he squeezed harder, draining her power in thick waves that flowed into him like a river of fire. Her body convulsed, eyes dimming, until Madara's limp form slid out of her like a discarded husk. Raikage flung it aside with a contemptuous flick, the body tumbling across the cracked ground.

Kaguya went limp, defeated, her godly form crumbling to dust under his hand.

But Black Zetsu oozed out from her sleeve, slithering like a shadow toward freedom. Raikage's other hand shot out, snatching the thing mid-escape. It writhed in his fist, screeching. "Die, you filthy motherfucker," he growled, crushing it until black sludge oozed between his fingers and the screams stopped.

The dimension stabilized. Everyone else—Naruto's team—survived, staring at the Raikage like he was a god who'd just dropped from the sky.

He dusted his hands. "Instant Teleport — back to Earth. All of us."

Blink.

They reappeared on the ruined battlefield, the God Tree's remnants smoking in the distance, the moon's genjutsu eye flickering out.

Raikage grabbed Madara's body from the dirt, slapped him hard across the face. Madara's eyes snapped open, rinnegan glowing with fury. He tried genjutsu immediately, weaving signs for a quick trap.

Nothing. The Raikage's new power shrugged it off like rain.

Raikage beat him senseless until the bastard stopped fighting.

"Yield," Raikage growled.

Madara, broken and wheezing, finally nodded. No more fight left.

The Uchiha raised his hands, eyes glazing with the Rinne Rebirth. Chakra flared bright, and across the world, every shinobi who'd died in the Fourth War gasped back to life—eyes opening in cocoons, bodies reforming from dust.

Thus, the war arc concluded with a bittersweet peace.

Across the shinobi world, villages erupted in quiet celebration. No parades, no wild cheers—just exhausted smiles, tears, and the kind of relief that hits after you've stared death in the face for years.

In Konoha, Naruto stood on the Hokage monument with Hinata's hand in his, looking out over the rebuilt streets. Families reunited. Old friends hugged like they'd never let go. At the memorial stone, dozens gathered in silence, laying flowers for those lost before the final battle— Asuma, Itachi, all the names carved deep.

In Suna, Gaara addressed his people from the Kazekage tower balcony. The crowd below bowed their heads as he spoke of sacrifice, of brothers and sisters who never came home from earlier wars. Temari and Kankuro stood beside him, eyes wet but proud.

In Iwa, Kurotsuchi led a moment of silence for the fallen. Even the toughest jonin wiped their faces.

In Mist, Mei Terumi stood with Chojuro and Ao, voice soft as she thanked the alliance that saved her village. Tears fell freely there—too many ghosts from the Bloody Mist days still lingered.

But in Kumogakure, the mood was different.

The Raikage stood on the highest tower, young again, strong again, Mabui at his side. Below, the entire village had gathered. Darui, Omoi, Karui, everyone. They cheered when he appeared, but he raised a hand for silence.

He spoke, voice carrying like thunder but cracking just once.

"We lost brothers. Sisters. Friends. Before this war even started. Some of you still carry those names in your hearts. We remember them tonight. We remember everyone who didn't make it to see this day."

The crowd bowed their heads. No one spoke. Wind moved through the village like a prayer.

Then the Raikage smiled—small, real.

"But we're still here. We're alive. We're home. And tomorrow, we rebuild. Stronger. Together."

A single cheer rose, then another, until the whole village roared—not wild, not drunk, just grateful.

Later that night, lights burned in windows across the nations. Families ate together. Lovers held each other a little tighter. Children slept without fear.

The Fourth Great Ninja War was over.

The dead were honored.

The living… finally got to live.

And somewhere in the clouds, the Raikage looked out over his village, Mabui leaning against him, and allowed himself one quiet thought:

Worth every death in that dream.

Twenty-eight months after the war, the villages were finally healing. Scars faded, walls rose higher, life crept back in.

The Raikage—looking twenty-four instead of forty-eight, body rebuilt and buzzing with new power from whatever gods had blessed him—woke up hard as steel.

The door slid open quietly. Maoui stepped in, his personal attendant: tan skin, long white hair, flawless face, body sculpted like a fantasy—wide hips, tiny waist, and heavy, full breasts that strained her tight uniform. Twenty-five and dangerously tempting.

"Good morning, Raikage-sama," she said, voice soft, almost shy.

Raikage kicked the blanket off and rose, stretching slow, every thick muscle flexing. His cock stood proud—long, veiny, dark, already throbbing.

Maoui's gaze dropped instantly and stayed there, cheeks warming.

He wrapped a big hand around the base, stroking once, lazy. "I've told you not to come in this early."

She bit her lip, eyes flicking up to his face, then back down. "I… I just wanted to make sure you woke up comfortable, Raikage-sama."

He stepped closer, the head of his cock brushing the fabric over her stomach. One hand slid up, cupping a heavy breast, thumb circling the nipple through the cloth until it peaked hard.

"These tits of yours… always begging to be mauled." His voice dropped, rough. "Take the top off. Now."

Maoui's breath caught. "Raikage-sama… please…"

He grabbed her wrist, guided her trembling hand to his shaft. "Feel what you do to me. You've been staring since you walked in. Stroke it properly."

Her fingers closed around him—hesitant at first, then tighter, stroking slow and reverent. He growled low, both hands on her breasts now, ripping the uniform open in one rough yank. They spilled free, perfect and heavy. He squeezed, kneaded, pinched the nipples until she whimpered.

Maoui rose on her toes, desperate. "Raikage-sama… kiss me…"

He crushed his mouth to hers—hungry, messy, tongue dominating hers while saliva dripped down their chins. Five full minutes of devouring her until she was shaking, clinging to his arms.

When he pulled back, her eyes were glassy with need.

"Please, Raikage-sama… let me taste your cock…"

He smirked, but shook his head. "Not today. If I let you suck me now, or if I fuck you properly, I'll be late for the summit. And the summit waits for no one."

He flipped her onto the bed like she weighed nothing. "Ass up. We'll make this quick and deep."

She obeyed instantly, uniform skirt hiked, trembling as he positioned himself behind her.

The thick head pressed against her tight asshole. She tensed.

"Relax. You're taking it all."

One slow, relentless push—the head popped in. Maoui cried out, sharp and high, fingers clawing the sheets.

He kept going, inch by inch, until all eighteen were buried deep. "Good girl… gripping me perfectly."

He stayed still a moment, letting her adjust, one hand stroking her back. Then he started moving—long, deep strokes, building speed.

Pain melted into overwhelming pleasure. Maoui's cries turned to moans, pushing back greedily.

"Raikage-sama… harder… please!"

He obliged, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, pounding faster. Lightning crackled along his shaft with every thrust, sparks dancing inside her, driving her wild.

The door flew open.

Maoui's husband stood frozen in the doorway, face draining of color as he took in the sight—his wife bent over, screaming in ecstasy while the Raikage railed her ass raw.

Raikage didn't slow. He locked eyes with the man. "Tightest hole I've ever had. You never once claimed it, did you?"

The husband's mouth opened—no sound.

Maoui, lost in it, shattered first. "Raikage-sama! Your cock is the best… I'm cumming!"

Her confession hung in the air. The husband staggered, dropping to his knees, eyes wide with broken disbelief.

Raikage slammed deep one last time and erupted—thick, hot ropes flooding her ass until it overflowed. He pulled out slow, watching the gape, then painted the rest across her back and cheeks.

He turned to the kneeling husband, cock still dripping. "Stay right there. Watch the rest."

The door slid again—this time slower.

Mabui stepped in, took one look at the scene, and smirked. "Started without me, Raikage-sama? Typical."

She sauntered over, already peeling off her top, full breasts bouncing free. No shyness—just confident hunger.

Raikage grabbed her waist, lifted her like she weighed nothing, and impaled her on his still-hard cock in one smooth drop—straight into her soaked pussy.

Mabui gasped, legs wrapping tight around him. "Fuck… yes."

He fucked her standing, brutal upward thrusts, pinning her back against the wall. She rode him just as hard, nails raking his shoulders, dirty whispers in his ear.

"Right there… deeper, Raikage-sama… give me everything…"

The husband watched every second—silent, shattered—as Mabui came first, loud and shameless, body shaking around the Raikage's cock.

Raikage growled, pumped her full with thick ropes deep inside, then lowered her slowly.

Mabui dropped to her knees in front of him, tongue already out, eyes hungry. She started licking him clean—long, teasing strokes from balls to tip, tasting herself.

Raikage fisted her hair. "Open wide."

She did. He shoved in deep, straight down her throat in one thrust. Her eyes watered instantly, throat fluttering around him.

He started fucking her face—hard, steady, relentless.

Mabui's throat contracted wildly, muffled gags escaping as he buried himself to the hilt. He held there, roaring low as he came—pumping straight down her throat. So much it overflowed, thick streams leaking from her nose.

He kept her nose pinched, cock sealed deep, until she swallowed every drop, body trembling.

Only then did he pull out slow, painting the last ropes across her face in heavy streaks.

Maoui crawled over on shaky legs, still leaking, and joined Mabui on her knees—both tongues working together now, sharing the mess, licking him spotless.

Raikage exhaled, fully satisfied.

"Bath. Now."

Both women looked up at him, flushed, wrecked, and utterly devoted.

"Yes, Raikage-sama."

Morning routine complete.