"Oh, is this so embarrassing? But it's just right."
Seeing that Uchiha Obito had been successfully lured into his trap and was now ensnared, Uchiha Yue advanced toward him, his Mangekyō Sharingan gleaming with calculated menace. A smirk curved the corner of Yue's lips, brimming with triumph and disdain. He straightened his posture slowly, the satisfaction of control evident in his every movement.
"Give me death!"
Rage surged in Obito's heart. Even after witnessing Yue's Mangekyō activate, he refused to retreat. Instead, he roared with bloodlust, drawing a chakra-infused shuriken and launching it directly at Yue's head—fast, lethal, and without hesitation.
But Yue didn't flinch.
Standing perfectly still, his Mangekyō Sharingan spun like an eternal gyroscope, locking eyes with Obito's. The world seemed to freeze as Yue's illusory domain subtly intensified around them, reality itself bending to his will.
In the next instant, the shuriken reached Yue's forehead—and passed through it cleanly, as if slicing through mist. Obito's palm followed, pushing through Yue's skull without resistance. There was no blood. No wound. No reaction.
Yue's head remained untouched. Untouched—and intact.
"What? How is this possible?"
Obito's eyes widened in disbelief. The technique—it was so familiar. A perfect phasing. Just like his own Kamui. But how? Had Yue copied it? No—he couldn't have. Kamui was unique to Obito's Mangekyō. Unless—
Then he remembered. The man before him had impersonated him once already. Yue, who shared his chakra signature and had a Sharingan with seemingly similar abilities. But this wasn't Kamui. This wasn't intangibility by space-time warping.
This was something else entirely.
"Hehe, we… are not the same."
Yue's voice cut through Obito's thoughts like a blade through paper. As if reading his mind, Yue's smirk deepened, and his left Mangekyō pulsed with energy. Then, the world shifted.
A thick wave of chakra poured from Yue's eyes, morphing the surrounding battlefield into an overlapping illusion—a layered illusory realm where Yue's will reigned supreme. Obito instantly felt the shift.
"Then, I will accept your eyes unceremoniously!"
Yue's voice turned mocking as his hand reached forward toward Obito's right eye. The world around them rippled with chakra, each wave emanating from Yue's Mangekyō like a pulse of sovereignty.
Instinctively, Obito triggered his Kamui. Space around his body distorted, and he attempted to phase out—retreat into the dimensional rift he alone could access.
But something was wrong.
The process that had always been instantaneous now dragged like sludge. The normally fluid space warped like clay under too much pressure. Kamui activated—but the spatial transition lagged unnaturally. It was like trying to breathe underwater.
As if even the interspatial rift had been caught in Yue's illusion.
The resistance grew unbearable.
His limbs refused to cooperate. Even his thoughts slowed. And in that single moment, Obito—Uchiha Obito, wielder of Kamui, one of the most elusive shinobi alive—was reduced to a frozen spectator.
And Yue, still smiling, reached calmly into his eye socket.
Squelch.
Blood sprayed.
Obito's scream echoed through the air, raw and agonizing. Yue withdrew his hand, now clutching a blood-soaked Mangekyō Sharingan. The familiar whirlpool pattern marked its surface—an eye once capable of distorting space itself.
"Ahhh!!!"
Even with his immense willpower—strengthened by years of war and loss—Obito crumpled to his knees. His chakra wavered. The light in his remaining eye dulled.
And all of this had occurred in mere seconds.
So fast, in fact, that Uchiha Itachi—who had been silently watching from the shadows—was just now making his move.
But he was too late.
By the time Itachi lunged forward, blade flashing, Yue had already pocketed Obito's eye. Still, Itachi did not hesitate. With flawless precision, he swung his blade toward Yue's torso while reaching for the stolen Mangekyō.
But as his blade sliced through the air, the atmosphere around him warped. The same effect that slowed Obito now gripped him.
Itachi's elite reflexes—honed by the ANBU Black Ops and tempered in countless battles—slowed unnaturally. Every movement felt like wading through molasses.
The illusionary domain had consumed him, too.
"Amaterasu!"
Reacting with instinct and speed, Itachi's Mangekyō flared. A black flame—the inextinguishable Amaterasu—ignited around Yue's form. The air distorted with heat as the cursed fire engulfed Yue completely.
A lesser shinobi would have screamed. Would have melted.
But Yue stood there—silent.
"Huh? Is this the fire of Amaterasu? What a powerful force…! Unfortunately, in my domain, everything is meaningless."
Yue's voice remained steady. Calm. Unburned.
Raising his hand, he curled his fingers slightly. As if beckoning a pet.
To Itachi's astonishment, the black flames obeyed.
The Amaterasu, fire born of hell itself, twisted inward. It condensed like smoke drawn into a vacuum and gathered neatly into a flickering ball in Yue's palm. Like a child cradling a firefly, Yue held the flame—tamed and contained.
"How can that be…?"
Even Itachi—master of genjutsu, slayer of the Uchiha Clan, wielder of one of the strongest Mangekyō Sharingan techniques—was visibly shaken.
"Hehe, Mangekyō's potential is not just what you know about it," Yue said lightly. "Besides… are you going to try and catch it now?"
As he mocked, Yue's illusory world pulsed again.
Itachi's eyes narrowed. In his heart, he already knew it wouldn't work—but still, he had to try.
"Tsukuyomi."
He activated his own greatest genjutsu. A technique feared across nations. An illusion that could control time itself within a fractured mental plane. A world where Itachi ruled absolutely for 72 hours—in a single second of real time.
But nothing happened.
The technique failed.
Tsukuyomi's power slammed against a wall—a spiritual fortress stronger than anything Itachi had ever encountered. Yue's spirit, anchored within his illusion world, could not be touched.
"Sure enough… this illusory world itself is the strongest genjutsu space," Yue thought to himself as he analyzed Itachi's technique. "If one wants to shake my spirit, they must first break the illusory world's protection. At this level… perhaps only Infinite Tsukuyomi can do it."
He stood tall, his expression calm but inwardly thrilled at this realization.
"Come," Yue murmured.
His challenge was not just to Itachi—but to the world.