Fanfic based on Naruto (by Masashi Kishimoto) and Bleach (by Tite Kubo). This is a fan-made story with no official affiliation. The content is shared as part of the creative rewards on my Patreon.
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POV 3era
Darkness surrounded him. Morgan didn't remember how he got there—he wasn't even sure he was still alive. All he knew was that his consciousness floated in an endless void, until an unfamiliar voice broke the silence.
"Well, well… another one with perfectly balanced karma. How rare."
In front of him appeared a humanoid figure, made entirely of darkness, as if it had merged with the void around it.
Its silhouette was marked by irregular white patterns along the edges, and its facial features looked like they'd been crudely painted on.
The figure sat cross-legged, typing on a small black notebook that seemed fused to its body—except for the white details outlining its shape, making it distinguishable as a computer.
"Where am I?" Morgan asked, a mix of fear and confusion in his voice.
The figure looked up. Its eyes were two uneven holes that seemed to absorb everything.
It stared at him for a moment before returning to the screen of the notebook.
"You're about to receive the greatest opportunity of your life... or the worst punishment you could ever imagine."
With a tap on the notebook, a translucent screen appeared in front of Morgan, floating in the air.
Detailed data about his life was projected on it:
[Subject Number: *********]
[Name: Morgan Mertens]
[Cause of Death: Blew up a gas tank with a lighter after being fatally wounded during a home invasion. Took all six intruders with him.]
[Lifestyle: Mediocre]
[Good Deeds: Neither good nor bad]
[Bad Deeds: Neither bad nor good]
[Accumulated Karma: 0]
Morgan stared in disbelief. The screen displayed fragments of his life—trivial moments and seemingly insignificant decisions.
There was the time he helped an elderly woman cross the street, earning positive points. Or when he laughed at a celebrity's death, losing points.
Even the moment he fed some stray dogs, gaining karma, and the day he littered on the street, which cost him another point.
Touching the section labeled "Cause of Death," Morgan watched in shock as the screen replayed the final moments of his life.
He remembered every detail as if he were reliving it.
It was the early morning of January 1st, and a sudden crashing noise had jolted him awake.
He had spent New Year's Eve alone, like so many other times before.
Confused and still half-asleep, he grabbed the only thing he had within reach—a butcher knife. He wasn't allowed to own firearms due to psychological evaluations that had declared him "mentally unstable."
"Damn bastards," he muttered to himself, gripping the knife tightly as he moved toward the noise.
When he reached the living room, he saw six figures ransacking his belongings, destroying everything in their path.
One of them was working frantically to open his safe, while another lifted his television—the only tangible memory he had left of his mother.
Before Morgan could react, one of the intruders spotted him.
"He's awake!" the man shouted, opening fire without hesitation.
The impact threw him to the ground. The pain was unbearable, but Morgan bit his lip to keep from screaming.
He clutched his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding while listening to their voices.
"Is he dead?" one of the figures asked, looking toward Morgan's direction but unable to see him behind the couch—though the beam of his flashlight did catch traces of blood on the wall.
"Of course he is. I hit him dead-on. If he's not dead yet, he will be in a minute."
"Help me with the safe, it's almost open," said another figure, the one working on the lock. He glanced toward where a plant used to be, now knocked over on the floor. What he saw was a piece of paper that read: "Safe Password."
"Well, well... I hide the stuff I steal under plants too, though not the legal ones..." he said with a smirk, reading the code and beginning to enter it exactly as written.
Meanwhile, Morgan closed his eyes, struggling to breathe. He knew he didn't have much time.
Dragging himself as best he could, he made it to the kitchen.
His mind, clouded by pain, latched onto a single thought: If I'm going to die, I won't die alone.
With trembling hands, he disconnected the gas tank, letting its contents begin to leak out.
Barely managing, he grabbed the tank and the lighter from the counter. Every movement was torture, but he kept going, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Finally, he managed to stand in the doorway to the living room. The thieves had their backs turned, focused on their loot.
One was opening the safe using the combination he had found beneath a plant.
"Seriously? Just adult magazines in a f***ing safe?" one of them shouted, furious at finding nothing of real value.
Morgan said nothing. His eyes locked onto the thief lifting the television his late mother had given him.
That anger sparked one last surge of energy.
He took a deep breath, holding the gas tank in one hand and the lighter in the other.
"Put down the TV…" he said with a sardonic smile, "...or we'll end up on TV."
The thieves turned just in time to see him flick the lighter.
One of them, pale, raised his gun to shoot.
"Oh, sh*t!"
The shot hit its mark, but it wasn't enough. The bullet struck the tank, creating a spark.
In an instant, the explosion consumed everything.
Morgan barely had time to laugh before the flames swallowed the room and everyone inside it.
The fire quickly reached the gas pipes, causing the house's roof to blow apart, hurling debris and flames into the night sky.
The explosion lit up the block, waking the neighbors who rushed out in terror, only to witness the inferno raging where Morgan's home once stood.
…
When the screen finished showing his death, Morgan was left with a storm of emotions too complex to name.
It had been a violent end, but he had taken the thieves with him.
The dark figure, still typing on his notebook, let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a growl.
"Well, that was a pretty dramatic death. Explosions, sacrifice, a one-liner straight out of a B-movie... Not bad for someone who lived a mediocre life."
Morgan frowned."Mediocre? Is that what you think? That my life was a waste?"
The figure looked at him directly for the first time, its eyes like two poorly defined holes in the darkness.
"Don't get it twisted. I'm not here to judge you. You already did that yourself. My job is simple: evaluate your karma and offer you a chance."
The giant, dazzling roulette wheel appeared again in front of him, spinning slowly, as if waiting for something.
Its segments kept shifting shapes and words: "Reborn as Human," "Wandering Spirit," "Rock," "Animal," "Modern World," "Fantasy World," "Canon Character," "Summoned Being."
Morgan swallowed hard."What does this mean?"
The figure stood up slowly, slamming its laptop shut with a sharp clack."It means your fate is in your hands… or rather, in the hands of luck. You have perfectly balanced karma, Morgan. Not good, not bad. Not a hero, not a villain. You're a zero in every sense. That makes you unpredictable."
Morgan stared at the roulette, his hands trembling."And if I don't want to spin it?"
The figure let out a deep, guttural laugh.
"Then you simply cease to exist. No heaven, no hell, no reincarnation for you. Just… oblivion. But something tells me you don't have the guts to accept that."
Morgan clenched his fists. For a moment, he thought about how unfair it all was.
His life had been hard, but he never imagined it would end with such an absurd decision.
"What happens if I spin the wheel?"
The figure leaned closer, its face near enough that Morgan could feel a strange pressure in the air.
"That, my dear friend, depends on the result. You could be reborn as a king in a fantasy world… or a rock at the bottom of the ocean. You might become a hero in an anime… or a doomed villain. Feeling lucky?"
The roulette stopped spinning, standing still as it awaited his decision.
The figure offered a twisted smile, teeth slowly forming in its mouth.
"The choice is yours. Do you take the risk… or choose oblivion?"
Morgan stared at the wheel, caught between fear and hope. His past life had ended in the most chaotic way possible.
Maybe this was a second chance. Maybe, for the first time, fate would be on his side.
Swallowing hard, he raised his hand toward the wheel.
"Whatever happens, happens."
With a firm motion, he spun the wheel. The colors and words began to blur, shifting rapidly into a whirlwind of possibilities.
The wheel began to slow, the segments passing more clearly until it finally came to a stop.
Morgan closed his eyes, heart pounding. The figure let out a low chuckle.
"Oh, this is going to be interesting…"
When Morgan opened his eyes, he read the words on the segment where the wheel had landed:
"Reborn as: Foreign Character in an Anime World."
Confused, Morgan frowned."What does that mean?"
The dark figure let out a guttural laugh as it pulled out a piece of paper that looked like it was covered in messy notes.
"That, my dear Morgan, means exactly what it says. You'll become an anime character—but not in your original universe. You'll end up in a completely different one. Think of it like… Goku showing up in Chainsaw Man right as Makima's about to kill Power. Or any other absurd crossover you can imagine."
A chill ran down Morgan's spine."And what if I'd landed on something worse?"
The figure let out a mocking laugh."Oh, trust me—there are far worse outcomes. You could've been reincarnated as a mutant turd in My Hero Academia, or worse, as a sentient rock trapped in your own body. Doomed to stare at the same thing for centuries—or eternity—if you survive your planet's explosion and end up drifting through space."
Morgan swallowed hard, terrified by the mere idea. Before he could say anything else, another roulette appeared in front of him.
"All right, Morgan. Now it's time to choose the anime universe you'll be dropped into."
The wheel spun slowly, flashing names like Boku no Pico, My Hero Academia, Dragon Ball, Castlevania, Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, Pokémon, Naruto, Bleach, Demon Slayer, The Survival of the Academy of the Extra, Second Life Ranker, The Academy's Weakest Became a Demon-Limited Hunter, The Unruly Martial King, and many more.
A cold sweat broke across Morgan's brow as he read the options, but he summoned enough courage and spun the wheel.
The mechanism let out a tense, metallic clink as the names zipped past in a blur.
Finally, the pointer stopped on a familiar name:
"Naruto."
The figure nodded, almost as if he had been expecting that outcome.
"Not bad, Morgan. A world full of ninjas, chakra, and endless conflict. But before you get too excited… there's still one more wheel. This one decides which foreign character you'll become."
Another roulette appeared before him—but this one was even more chaotic.
It was filled with names and concepts from across all genres: Rimuru, Goku, Yhwach, Zen'ō-sama, Anti-Spiral, Truth, Yoruichi, Artorias, Optimus Prime, Astolfo, Felix Argyle, Ed Rothstaylor, and many others.
There were also bizarre entries like "Emotionless Android," "Sentient Coffee Mug," and "Orphaned Child with a Tragic Fate."
Morgan barely had time to process his thoughts before the dark figure spoke again.
"Those last few… yeah, those are anime characters from other universes. Let's hope you don't land on those." The figure gave a sinister smile, eyes locked onto Morgan, who shivered under the gaze.
With trembling hands, Morgan focused on the roulette. He knew his fate depended on this one spin.
He swallowed hard and, with a sigh full of resignation, spun the wheel once more.
The metallic sound of the mechanism echoed as the options spun in a whirlwind of possibilities.
Finally, the pointer slowed… and stopped.
"Yoruichi Shihōin (Bleach)."
Morgan stood frozen, eyes wide with shock. The dark figure, however, burst into a deep, amused laugh.
"This is incredible!" the figure exclaimed, clapping theatrically. "You got lucky, Morgan. You're now one of the fastest, most charismatic warriors in Bleach—a Bleach ninja! But now you'll be a ninja in the Naruto world."
Morgan could barely react, but before he could open his mouth to protest, the figure spoke again:
"Goodbye, Morgan. I'd love to stick around and watch how you adapt, but I've got important things to do—like finishing the 20th Century Boys anime." He paused, then added, "By the way, my name's The Screenwriter... or you can call me The Real One."
Before Morgan could respond, a flash of light engulfed him, and his entire surroundings vanished.
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[End of Chapter 1]
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New series, I hope you like it, and give me power stone, and comment to know which people read this.