Clouds

Shikamaru Nara stood in the ruins of Konoha, the ruins of the place he once loved. He wished he could've saved it, could've changed it. But he couldn't. That much was clear. If a man with time-travelling abilities popped out of nowhere, that wouldn't make sense.

That's what he thought.

And so, a tall and pale-skinned man, who had deep wrinkles and a strong jawline in his elderly age. He had spiky, shoulder-length, pale brown hair, with a chin-length, braided lock hanging in front of his left ear. He also sported a goatee, which was short in his younger years and later tapered down to his waist in his old age. Hagoromo had a pair of horn-like protrusions extending from either side of his forehead and pupilless white eyes. "Hello." He whispered to the sage of six paths. "How are you?" Hagoromo smiled. "Great. Yourself?" Shikamaru smiled lightly for the first time in a while. "Okay, I guess."
Hagoromo nodded. "I have important business. I need you to go back in time and save, not only Konoha but the whole shinobi world." Shikamaru nodded. "But, I'm not nearly powerful enough." Hagoromo smiled. "Shikamaru Nara, I give you my power, the power of the ten tailed-jinchuriki, the power to control and manipulate water, air, wind, sand, earth, metal, water, and liquids. The ability to control yin and yang. The Sharingan and the rinnegan. The blessed child. You, Shikamaru, are the chosen one. You are not a descendant or reincarnation of Indra nor Ashura, but one of me." Shikamaru was so depressed that he wasn't even surprised.
"Alright, I guess." Hogoromo taps his head. "Goodnight."