A/N: (EDIT!)

I tried.

I tried really hard.

But hardly anyone reviewed. And those that did...flames. So. Many. Flames.

Look at the reviews if you don't believe me. Perhaps then you'll understand why I'm so upset. So consider my heart broken. What did I do wrong?

Allow me to be blunt here.

It seems there's been a bit of confusion.

I. DO NOT. GET PAID TO. WRITE ANY OF THIS.

Zilch! Zero! Nadda! I don't get a single cent for any of this and I've HAD offers to write elsewhere-commissions and such-as well as other stuff for pay! Offers I've turned down! Instead I take time out of an arduous work week involving TWO JOBS and I bust me arse to get these stories out on time. Updates are planned for nearly every other day of the week. Furthermore, ever other story is being worked on at once, and is being continued unless I DELIBERATELY say otherwise. I don't know what else to say here.

Why so serious, you ask? Well...Moon Cancer got panned. Temptress got panned, too. Its A Most Unlikely Lancer all over again. Some folks were cool about it, listing reasons and such. Others...well, not so much. Don't believe me? I kept most of the nasty reviews around this time. Look. SEE THEM.

You know what? Just for that? You guys get another story. My gift to the fans, and a big 'ol middle finger to the flamers trying to tear me down. Go on, trolls. By all means. Keep poking the hornet's nest. I'll keep right on writing way up here just to spite ya daft buggers. Nasty words only add to the review count, and I can certainly take heart in the fact that there are those who care about me on this site. To those that have stuck with me through this like kuramathetranscened and others, thank you.

So here have your True Assassin, one who left the village, actually BECAME a killer of kage and slayer of men, one who didn't go out in a blaze of glory and only died of old age. He could even be a Grand Assassin if he were ever sent after Beast. In terms of sheer power...well, how do I describe this? Think of King Hassan. There you go. This Naruto isn't evil. This Naruto isn't good either. This Naruto is, quite simply, morally gray. I'll leave it to you to judge him, that is, after all, the purpose of this story, is it not?

What, you didn't all think they were going to be saints, did you? This one isn't "technically" evil, but...

Oddly enough, some thing Beast got to this one. Did he? Some Servants are slippery.

As ever, this'll be gone in two days if folks don't like it, yadda yadda...

Get ready for feels.

"Kill your demons. Face yourself.

Fight with no discretion and die unalone.

That is what I did. That is who I am. COMMAND ME."

~Wraith.

A Most Unlikely Wraith

My story is a complicated one.

I should not exist, yet I do. For I am a ghost.

I am a specter, a shadow with no name I wish to speak of. Born to parents who perished, a family that I never knew, and never knew me. Raised in a village that hated me without question. Scorned and shunned, spat on by any who were "unfortunate" enough to cross my path. I can't count the number of times they tried to poison me, the petty cruelties thrust upon me, the attempts on my life.

And you expected me to stay?

I fled the village on my twelfth birthday. By then I easily could outrun Anbu. I'd had to. They always hurt you the worst, in ways the Hokage couldn't-or wouldn't-be able to see. No one chased me at first. They were likely as glad to be rid of me as I was them. It was the first time I was grateful to be so hated. By the time any organized pursuit could be mustered, I was out of Fire Country. I learned to hunt; to fend for myself; because if I didn't pick up the skill quickly, then I would starve. In time I lived off the land itself until I went far enough north. At least, that was my intention.

Rather than of North, I stumbled into the Land of Waves; right into a civil war.

I think that Zabuza took pity on me when I bumbled into him, if only because he didn't kill me.

He let me stay with him and Haku for a month, taught me the barest of basics, and sent me on my way. North this time. Properly.

When I finally found the Village Hidden in the Clouds, they took me in for a time; likely because they knew I was a weapon. Unlike Konoha, Kumo was actually willing to use me. They let me hide my face and sent me on missions, one after the other. I killed and killed and killed again, and eventually killed some more...until I ceased to enjoy being their dog. By that time I was well past fourteen and had more than a hundred kills to my name.

But unlike Konoha, I don't think Kumo was inclined to let me leave.

Also unlike the Leaf, they had the power to make me stay. I wasn't about to stick around.

Not when they had two of their own jinchuuriki to keep me collared. If I stayed there I'd never know freedom.

So I left them, too. Not as the half-trained runt I'd been when I first came to them on that dark and stormy night, but as a Missing Ninja.

I traveled for a time, wandering from place to place, learning wherever and whatever I could be taught. I learned that life is cruel, that justice is what we make of it. Consider this. If you see a cadre of boys bullying a girl, what do you do? You walk right up to them and bash their heads in. If you see a mother of three about to be raped, you kill the one assaulting her. It doesn't matter whether he is a Damiyo's son or some common street thug or even a shinobi; wrong is wrong and right is right. There are some things that simply cannot be tolerated. Assault. Bullying. Theft. Murder is...a gray area for me.

But while killing the lecherous heir of a powerful lord may earn you the love of the common folk, it also creates enemies.

In short order I found myself hunted by the Cloud and Leaf alike; enemies howling for my blood.

Years passed.

I kept moving, never allowing anyone to pick up my trail, selling my services to the highest bidder. Traveled to Demon Country and stayed there for a few months. Met a priestess named Shion. Put down a revolt and took down an actual demon. Not extraordinary. What was his name again? Morin? Moria? Mōryō. Ah! That's the one. I lingered as long as I dared, even grew fond of Shion, but in the end I had to move on. One does not simply face a demon and emerge unscathed. It alters you. Warps the core of your very being. Besting that creature marked me somehow, but watching Demon Country burn in the aftermath? That changed me. Forever.

I kept moving, but left her a way to contact me. Just once. A single-use scroll for emergencies

Sentimental of me, I know, but I couldn't help myself.

Nine months later, she did just that.

She had a kid, can you believe that? A chance night of passion, and nine months later she gave birth to a girl.

Shion named her Ariel.

I think that was when I started to change.

Until that moment I wanted nothing more than to keep moving, to stay ahead of my pursuers. But for the first time, I'd lingered too long. Made myself vulnerable. Gotten attached. Perhaps I was being watched the entire time. Perhaps it was all some sort of elaborate trap. Who knew? After I left, Konoha caught my trail and tracked it back to Shion. I wasn't there. I should've been there. But I wasn't. I couldn't protect them. Danzo killed everyone, salted the earth, and left nothing behind bar a note in her Shion's blood.

Because he didn't kill my daughter.

No, he took her. Used her.

As bait. For me.

Ohhhhh how that burned. I'm sure you have a good idea how I felt that day. I'm sure he thought it was poetic justice on his part; he would make a weapon out of Ariel to turn against me one day. Perhaps he thought the child of a jinchuuriki as leverage. And if he couldn't do that, he'd have himself a hostage. A valuable chip to use against me like that. If I stepped out of line, if I disobeyed him, he'd kill her. No doubt he meant to use her in such a manner. I wouldn't put it past him. That was his style. No doubt he thought I was a weak young man that he could bully to his heart's content.

He was wrong.

I hadn't simply "destroyed" Mōryō, I devoured him, took his power into me and made it mine. It wasn't a boy that came back to Konoha. Not some wet-behind-the-ears lad of sixteen years. Not a naive fool who would try to talk his way out of trouble, and certainly not a furious father blinded by searing fury. Mine was cold. Glacial. I came for him with silence and purpose, even as my temper strained at its leash.

I was a Wraith.

I slipped into the village under cover of night, slaughtered his Root to a man, and took-TOOK!-back my baby girl. None saw me until I nailed Danzo's broken body between the Stone Faces as a warning. Yet even in death the bastard won. If there had been some sympathy for me in Konoha it died with him. I had killed their leader, even if he wasn't well-liked. They saw a man covered in blood standing atop their precious monument, and oh, how they howled at me! They wanted to tear me apart. Some tried, before I managed to escape.

I tracked down Zabuza and Haku, who had survived their little escapade with Gatou, and begged them to take care of Ariel.

Haku, at least-whose kindness was unquestionable-assured me she would be kept safe with them in Mist. I wrung an oath from the both of them and went south.

Orochimaru found me soon thereafter. Or perhaps I found him. Who can say? I hadn't even been aware of his existence until he ambushed me on the road. Once again, I was spared.

Thanks to him I was able to hide until their fury blew over; it was from that Snake that I truly came into my own power; before then I'd subsisted solely on my strength alone. He taught me how to truly master my chakra, refining it far beyond my own crude attempts. I learned to wear it like a shroud, to make myself ten times stronger than any shinobi. To tame the beast within. I absorbed all that he gave me. Some, like sealing, I excelled at far and beyond normal means. When he branded me with his seal I survived and made its power my own.

This training didn't come without cost; I knew he intended to take my body once I'd honed it to his standards, to wear my skin for himself after his precious Uchiha slipped up and got killed. Poor Orochimaru. He wanted strength. He wanted power. He got his wish. It didn't end the way he expected. Not at all.

I still hear him screaming sometimes, begging to be released.

When he tried to eat me on that fateful day, I devoured him, body and soul. I took his Curse Mark and wore it like a badge of honor; because it meant I had power. Power to protect myself from those who would hunt me now, in my eighteenth year. Never to rule, never to conquer. I had no interest in such things. I just wanted to live. I am a Wraith, and I want for nothing else. When I studied with the snakes and learned what it meant to be a Sage, I made it permanent. The look only served to cement my disguise. Naruto had blue eyes. Wraith had the golden orbs of a venomous snake.

Wraith killed Danzo. Wraith destroyed Orochimaru. Wraith shattered Akatsuki and choked the life out of a mad goddess, as well as her little plant.

Not Naruto.

No. Never Naruto.

He was weak. I destroyed him.

I never told anyone that name. I didn't dare. It was always Wraith. Or when I had to give a name...Menma. It was a bitter joke forced on me by Orochimaru, but one that seemed to stick. No one should have spread tell of my deeds...but someone must have. Else I wouldn't be here in the Throne. If I have a class, then it must be Assassin. A True Assassin. I did not reject the idea of killing; on the contrary, I embraced it like an old friend after my first kill. A dead enemy could never threaten me. A dead bear meant a good meal. If you killed all the hunter ninja sent out after you, your village stopped trying.

When you kill a Hokage, butcher a criminal organization, then a GOD, everyone eventually just...gives up. Well. Almost everyone.

When a Beast came knocking on my doorstep, I cut him into bloody red ribbons until he fled.

Multiverse, he said. Gonna kill you, he said. Bah! What do I care for that?!

But that's a story for another day.

With no one hunting me any longer, I eventually came back for my Daughter, settled down in Mist, and taught her everything I knew. Let her carry on my legacy. I am not Naruto. I am not Menma. I am a Father. I am A Wraith. I am a Lover. I am Death. A man who has soaked his hands with blood for a singular purpose. To live. I have no desire to rule, no willingness to lord myself over others. I do not seek glory, I do not wish for great accolades heaped upon my shoulders. For now, I only want to sit here in the sun and watch as my daughter and her children and their children's children absorb my lessons.

Hmm?

What is my wish?

I've already told you, Master.

I heard you call me, and so I have answered you.

I Am Wraith. I Am True Assassin. I Am Your Sword. Your Dagger.

Command Me, Master. Point Me Toward Your Enemies. Tell Me Who Needs To Die.

(...0o0o0...)

Air.

It flooded his lungs all at once, the sweet and sudden breath of existence so sharp that the blond caught himself gasping. Alive. He was alive again. A reflexive shudder tore through his body-his much stronger body-with such force that he nearly laughed aloud and would have indeed, were it not for the sudden dread that it brought with him.

He remembered dying.

Old age creeping up on him like a vine.

Holding his daughter's hand as his lungs finally failed him.

A brief moment of senseless panic seized him, followed by relief as memories not entirely his own flickered through him. Images and information from the Grail stabbed at him, and annoyed, he shunted them aside. Right. Holy Grail War. Servant. He'd been summoned. He heard a pitiful cry and a subconscious part of him had answered the call to fight.

"Jeez," he croaked softly, "This really is troublesome, you know? I'm just a sucker for lost causes I suppose."

Smoke rose around him in a great noxious cloud as he rose from the summoning circle, black fumes threatening to choke the room and obscuring his vision. He couldn't see much beyond himself, but that was enough. A simply auxiliary jutsu was all he needed to correct his vision and assess the situation. Oho. Enhanced eyes blinked, those golden slits narrowing just This was a rather large room at that.

He barely batted an eyelash.

"Now then," with a long suffering sigh, he rose to his full height and gave himself a once over. "What are we working with here?"

He took a moment to confirm his arsenal this time around, patting himself down in the ensuing silence. Knives? Check. Sword? Check. Scrolls? Clothes? Check. Black pants and black trousers with dark red arm-guards and bracers for the legs, and of course, the bleak half-mask he'd taken to wearing over his mouth. Coupled with the scarred headband he'd kept as a memento, he had no way of knowing just how much he resembled a certain Copycat. That suited him just fine. He knew nothing about his father's student and was content to keep it that way. What you didn't know couldn't hurt you...most of the time.

Speaking of knowledge!

As if waiting for that very thought to manifest, a soft, terrified squeak reached his ears.

Golden eyes rounded on the sound as he smiled through the smoke like a coiled viper, ready to pounce.

Aha! That sounded like a girl. One mystery solved then. He would've hated to end up with some crusty old man for a Master. Sure enough, when he reached out with his mind's eye he felt a river of mana pouring into him from the direction of that shout, perceived as a glowing red line in his peripherals. Well. Well, well, well! Whomever summoned him had an unusual amount of energy. Almost absurd, even. He had strength for days. Dead useful, that. The idea of being shackled to a weakling wasn't unappealing-reminded him of his underdog days, that-but he wouldn't be a capable Servant if restrained to the barest breadth of his abilities.

Still, he had appearances to maintain and this silence gained him nearly nothing.

He could've put on a mask, been all smiles and sunshine...but he wasn't feeling up to it at the moment.

Perhaps that was some last vestige of Orochimaru affecting his thoughts; he'd gained a flair for the dramatic in recent years.

Willing a trickle of chakra to his palm he conjured up a wind jutsu and blasted the smoke away with a flick of his wrist. A startled shout greeted this sudden display of power-another aspect his keen mind noted-but despite this display, the building held. Impressive. Perhaps he'd play them a little. Another minor jutsu amplified his voice beyond mortal means as the last of the smoke cleared away. Golden eyes narrowed into thinly veiled slits as a he released a touch of killing intent into the spacious...room? Chamber. Semantics, he supposed, chuckling.

"I Am Wraith." he called out into the dimly lit room, words ratting the stones underfoot. "My class is Assassin. I Am Your Sword. Your Dagger."

When no one dared to speak into the spellbound silence, a small frown etched across Naruto's face. Well, now! How rude.

"Command Me, Master." his voice rose anew. "Point Me Toward Your Enemies. Tell Me Who Needs To Die."

With that, someone stepped forward and he at long last, the wayward shinobi beheld his summoner.

"That's better," this time, his smile was entirely genuine. "I Ask of You, Are You My Master?"

A/N: Care to guess where he is?

No, seriously, guess. I wanna see who gets it right.

Wraith!Naruto is a good boy, but he'll never ever say it aloud.

Further note, this is a potential Singularity, so prepare for shenanigans.

For ease of use, we will still call this Servant Naruto. He might not like that, but its his true name. Sorry blondie.

I left the summoning oblique on purpose. What Grail War is this? Who is his Master? Is this Fate? Zero? Grand Order? Apocrypha? Moon Cell? Or something...new?

Guess in your reviews-and vote for the pairing there-if you dare. Go on. I DARE YAH. Winner gets a priiiiiiiiiiiiize! Of course, there's some HUGE honking hints below, but remember to look underneath the underneath. Pretty sure that was the saying. Ironically, Wraith!Naruto, Drifter!Naruto and Beast!Naruto could count as villains. But though False Beast most assuredly is, Drifter and Wraith have, at least, some redeeming qualities.

Wraith...as far as personality goes, I'd compare him to Scar from the Lion King, though not nearly as wicked.

So let's list Wraith's skills and abilities:

Presence Concealment (Rank EX) Rasengan and all its many variants. Battle Continuation. Eye of the Mind (True) Master of Sealing. Master of Taijutsu. Master of Genjutsu. Unfortunately middling in all elements save Wind. Possesses a Curse Seal, including its first and second form. Lord of Snakes and can summon them as he wills. Snake Sage. DESPISES royalty and Kage both and is known for killing such. Does double damage against royalty. And, perhaps most importantly: No. Shadow. Clones.

None of that spammy bullshit here! He's had to hone his skills over SEVERAL lifetimes and has become murderously strong because of it.

He's as different from "A Most Unlikely Assassin" as possible and earned the nickname "Wraith" for a damned good reason. No one dared to mess with him and the few that dared didn't last long. Akatsuki eventually died out. Madara's plan was enacted and smashed apart. Orochimaru isn't a threat in this story either, for those who are wondering. He may well be in other stories, but this? He's dead and gone.

Wraith even admitted to raising a kid at one point. Take note of THAT, you should.

And there you have it! So...in the immortal words of Atlas...

Review, Would You Kindly?

And enjoy the previews.

References are candy.

BE PREPARED~!

GUESS WHO?!

(Previews)

Kato Danzo knelt before him. "I swear to serve."

Wraith blinked. "What."

"LOOK AT ME! Look at what you've created!"

"No! Stop! Please! I surrender! Don't you care about that?!"

Wraith tilted his head, circling them like lion. "Should I? You're in my way."

His prey whimpered, their pride utterly shattered by the knife against their throat.

"Run." his lips curled in a snarl. "Run away. And never return. If I see you again, I'll kill you."

When they finally dared to look for him again, only a stray wisp of curling black shadow remained.

"How the mighty have fallen."

"What are you doing, Assassin?! Help me!"

He stood above them silent for a long, awful moment.

Then he struck. Impossibly fast, little more than a raw blur.

A single arm yanked them out of harms way and into him, pinning their body against his. Bright eyes widened in confusion, not yet comprehending their peril. He trapped their arms with his and his mouth curled in a cold, cruel smile, born of silent satisfaction. Then he leaned closer, lips brushing their ear.

"Long. Live. The King."

His prey had half a second to gasp, to gape at him, before he thrust the knife into their chest and ended their life.

Mata Hari gulped softly.

"Are...are you going to kill me?"

The knife shone in his hand. "I'm not sure."

She quivered, but didn't flee. He gave her credit for that much.

So why couldn't he bring himself to strike her down? It would be so easy...yet he couldn't.

R&R! =D