Ten days later, dawn broke.
In Shizuoka Prefecture, Konoha, nestled in the mountains, had undergone a sea change.
The old village chief stood in his farmhouse courtyard, peering northeast through his aging eyes. Where Mount Fuji had once been faintly visible, there was now a vast expanse of ocean.
Suddenly, a sound behind him startled the old village chief out of his daze.
Surrounded by several diplomats and secretaries, the president of the United States emerged from the village chief's old house.
"Ohayo!"
Seeing the old village chief at the entrance, the president greeted him warmly with a genial smile.
"Mm."
The old village chief, who would once have been exceedingly deferential even before the head of the local agricultural association, showed no sign of being overwhelmed by the honor. He straightened his slightly stooped back and nodded in response.
So what if the president was one of the most powerful people in the world?
Konoha had produced a god!
With the crisis of the falling moon resolved, the world erupted in jubilation and celebration, but the repercussions continued to grow ever more intense.
Although countries other than Japan and the United States had suffered negligible losses during the crises surrounding the Infinite Tsukuyomi, the impact on society was unprecedented.
Regardless of country or region, everyone had experienced the same impending catastrophe. Governments could foresee a baby boom. The global crisis of declining birth rates had unexpectedly eased.
Countless people had witnessed the miracle of the moon being recreated. Their excitement and awe had been beyond words, leaving them able only to prostrate themselves. Even afterward, recalling it felt like remembering another lifetime.
The identity of their savior, Uchiha Naruto, had consequently become known throughout the world.
Countless people's worldviews and beliefs collapsed, were kneaded together, and reassembled in Uchiha