The path rose into the hills, where the greenery thickened, wild and ancient.
The trail Hagoromo followed was narrow, mossy, and half-swallowed by the forest.
No one had walked it in years.
But he felt it — something was waiting.
With each step, the air grew denser. Not heavy with heat, but rich with presence, like the ground remembered something humanity had long forgotten.
And then — he saw it.
A temple.
Half-collapsed, built from dark stone, choked by vines and roots.
The roof had long caved in, the pillars lay broken like snapped spears.
But at its heart still stood a circular stone door, carved with strange symbols, sealed tight.
He stepped closer. Pressed his palm against the cool surface.
He didn't recognize the writing.
But the energy pulsing from the door was beast-like. Primal.
Not evil.
Deep. Alive. Ancient.
He inhaled.
— If this is a seal, it's not meant to imprison.
— It's meant… to protect.
And then the ground shuddered.
From somewhere deep inside the ruins came a sound —
low, like thunder.
A growl with no throat, but full of meaning.
A sound not heard, but felt in the bones.
Hagoromo stepped back.
From a crack between the stones, a shadow slipped through.
At first — just mist. Then — clawed limbs. Then — eyes.
Huge, pupil-less, glowing.
The creature began to form:
Not a lion. Not a wolf. Not a serpent.
But all of them at once. Its body flickered like smoke but held form.
It stared at him.
And then — it spoke.
Not with a voice. But within his mind:
"You are no Devil Fruit.
Not human. Not beast.
You carry the spark of an ancient soul.
Why have you come?"
Hagoromo felt no fear. He nodded.
— Because you called.
— Because you remained.
— And that means… there's still truth they haven't erased.
The beast crept closer. Its shadow-limbs dragging like roots across the ground.
It didn't simply look at him — it read him: life, pain, light.
"You wish to awaken what has been forgotten.
But this world has no chakra.
Only instinct. Hunger. Haki.
What will you give me in return, Sage?"
Hagoromo raised his hand.
— Not power. Not blood. Not fear.
— I will give you an identity.
— Because without a name, you are only memory.
— And with one… you can become real.
The beast paused.
A long silence. Then — a breath. Gentle, like fog.
It vanished into the air.
But it did not disappear.
In his chest, a point of light pulsed.
It floated up — and settled in his palm like a warm, weighty ember.
"You have taken a part of me.
Name: Ino-Maru.
Path of Awakening — begun."
He felt it: this wasn't chakra — not yet.
But it was a different kind of energy core.
Ino-Maru was a spirit beast, not born of fruits, not born of technique.
But of the deep root-force of this world, long dormant — yet still alive.
Hagoromo dropped to one knee.
He understood:
This world has beasts too.
But people no longer see them, because they no longer believe.
And perhaps he was the only one who could reconnect man to the primordial force.
The clouds parted.
Moonlight spilled down in ribbons.
He stood again. The light in his hand pulsed.
The first signs of true chakra were beginning to stir again —
not as power, but as connection.
He stepped away from the temple.
Now, he walked no longer alone.