Uchiha Mali sat with Tobirama in the newly built council room. The place was simple: polished stone walls, sunlight streaming through narrow windows, and a heavy table separating them. Tobirama's posture was still rigid, hand near a kunai out of habit, but there was nowhere to run.
Mali folded his arms and spoke plainly.
"Tobirama, you think your policies saved this village. But look closely — Konoha's hate, division, and brutality came from your rules. You pushed the Uchiha to the edge, made monsters of children."
Tobirama's jaw clenched, but Mali continued, voice calm but firm.
"And Madara… all those years you feared him, fought him, plotted against him. You never realized the enemy was always above both of you. While you and Hashirama dreamed of peace, Madara thought power would break the chain. He was wrong."
Tobirama's eyes narrowed. "You talk like you know things we never could."
Mali nodded. "Because I do. Everything you built — the councils, the ANBU, keeping clans separate — it only fed a larger game you could never see."
For a moment, the room was silent except for the distant sounds of new arrivals moving into their homes.
"Madara was manipulated," Mali went on. "Not just by Black Zetsu — the parasite born from the Otsutsuki princess, the Moon's shadow — but by fate itself. The Infinite Tsukuyomi wasn't his dream. It was a cosmic trap. The Otsutsuki clan, aliens who devour entire planets, sent Black Zetsu to break Indra and Ashura's cycle. They use ninja wars to weaken worlds, then harvest them."
Tobirama blinked, lines deepening on his forehead. "Otsutsuki… real? That's… monstrous."
Mali's words were blunt: "Exactly. You, Madara, Hashirama — all of us were pawns. The alien plan was always bigger than Uchiha vs Senju. Now, the reason we have all these people here — the reason you, even as a reanimated shinobi, must obey the laws — is simple. We have one goal. Survive what comes next."
He leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"My plan is not about glory or old feuds. We prepare this land — strictly, systematically — as a shield when the Otsutsuki invade again. No ninja armies, no mercenary missions. Every citizen will contribute as a human: study, build, strengthen the next generation. Only the best, healthiest, most loyal can join the army after they're grown. This will be a land where war cannot buy prestige or power. That is the only way to survive an enemy that devours planets."
Tobirama looked down at the table, silent for the first time since his return. Hashirama entered behind him, crossing his arms.
"You will help Mali," Hashirama said quietly. "For once, brother, let someone else's rules save us from ourselves."
After a long pause, Tobirama nodded, jaw tense.
"I will follow Mali's laws."
Mali gave a thin but satisfied smile.
"Good. Everything will be different now — for everyone."
By sundown, the transition was in full swing. Mali, Hashirama, and a team of record-keepers walked the main street, where clans were already settling in. Each household from the old Konoha village received a stone-fronted building and a formal notice:
From now on, no clan leader could command a private army or enforce their own code.
Shikaku Nara stood with his family as a Uchiha aide handed him a numbered housing scroll.
"What's with the paperwork?" he muttered.
"It's policy," the aide replied, ticking off names. "Photo. Fingerprint. Hand-sign. Everyone gets registered. The house is loaned — full repayment if you want to own it. No freeloaders or secret estates."
Other clans received the same treatment. Inuzuka, Hyūga, Yamanaka, even smaller ones like Kurama and Ichimiko — each head signed documents, inked their thumbprints, and accepted keys with a quiet nod. The news that ninja missions were banned sent waves of muttering through the crowd.
"No more missions?" Kiba blurted to Naruto near the front gate.
Shikamaru shrugged, wide-eyed. "Guess we get to go to school like normal kids."
At the center school, notices went up:
Elementary, high, and secondary students would study sciences, mathematics, and moral dilemmas. Ninja skills became electives focused on health and longevity, not war.
A Hyūga father scanned the curriculum, brow tight. "Martial training only after age twenty-three? That's strict."
"And smart," Hashirama reminded him, overseeing the process. "Too many died young as warriors. Mali's rule is for survival now."
Not everyone was happy. A couple of clan elders grumbled about losing power, but a glance at Hashirama's stern face — and Tobirama's silent presence — killed the protests before they could grow.
By nightfall, the new village hummed slowly with a cautious peace. Children studied quietly; adults unpacked in silence. No one dared shout or argue. The old days of clan power were over.
In the main office, Mali looked at his ledger.
"The era of shinobi will finished," he said softly, as Izuna looked on with a calculating smile.
"only Uchiha will rule ," Izuna replied.
Outside, the new Uchiha land settled.
No ninja, no lords. Only people. Only survivors.