All of Konoha was dressed in black. The cloudy sky and the distant sound of the wind created a heavy, suffocating atmosphere. In the center of the village, the ceremonial plaza was packed—shinobi, civilians, and elders formed a silent crowd before the great memorial stone.
Li Shang walked slowly among the people, the discreet sound of his sandals almost inaudible amidst the hushed murmur of the crowd. He wore a simple black robe, his hair loose, falling over his shoulders, and in his hands, a small bouquet of white flowers.
As he approached the front, he could see the portrait of Hiruzen Sarutobi, smiling as if he were still watching over the village he loved so much. The frame shone under the candlelight, in stark contrast to the somber faces around.
There was pain in their eyes—but also contained hatred. Some cried in silence, others clenched their fists, remembering the attack that devastated their homes and claimed hundreds of lives.
Li Shang remained silent for a moment, staring at the Third Hokage's photo.
'Who will be the new Hokage now? That old Danzo, perhaps? Or Hiruzen's disciple, Jiraiya, the legendary Sannin?'
In any case, the outcome did not concern him.
'It doesn't matter who takes over. The stronger the Hokage, the more stable Konoha will be. And the more stable the village... the more time I'll have to cultivate in peace.'
He placed the bouquet before the memorial and turned his back on the ceremony, without lingering. The bells began to toll as he walked away, resonating like the end of an era.
While the village mourned its leader, in a distant hideout, on the borders of Kusagakure, the true cause of the chaos struggled to stay alive.
The underground laboratory was illuminated by chakra lamps embedded in the walls. In the center, on a cot covered with stained sheets, lay Orochimaru. His body was pale and rigid, his hands completely necrotic, without a trace of vitality—a result of the forbidden jutsu Hiruzen had used.
Every breath was a visible effort.
Kabuto, beside him, reviewed notes and vials, his expression cold and methodical.
"Orochimaru-sama, we found traces of Tsunade. We can leave at any moment."
Orochimaru gave a slight smile, distorted by pain.
"Excellent... Let's go as fast as possible. The time for the ritual is not yet complete, and only she can help me."
He slowly turned his head, his yellow eyes flashing.
"If I don't get what I want, I'll have to remain in this cursed state until the next cycle of the ritual... And that is unacceptable."
Kabuto adjusted his glasses, observing his master in silence.
"So you still don't intend to steal the young Uchiha's body?"
Orochimaru let out a hoarse laugh.
"Not now. The transfer process limits the growth of the new body, and Sasuke... is still too weak. Useless to me at this moment."
Kabuto averted his gaze to the reports in his hands.
"What about the Hyuga? He adapted to the seal... in fact, even better than Sasuke."
The silence that followed was interrupted by the soft sound of a low laugh.
Orochimaru's eyes gleamed, a mixture of madness and pleasure.
"Ah... the Hyuga. He's just a guinea pig, Kabuto. An interesting toy, but nothing more than that."
"Even with the doujutsu?" Kabuto questioned, intrigued.
"Even so," the Sannin replied, his voice filled with disdain. "The Byakugan doesn't compare to the Sharingan. These eyes are limited... incapable of understanding the true power that resides in the Uchiha lineage."
Orochimaru smiled again, his gaze lost in the shadows of the ceiling.
"But I'll need him to give Sasuke a little push... I'll still have some fun before discarding him."
Kabuto remained silent, the sound of footsteps echoing through the laboratory as he prepared for departure.
Meanwhile, in another distant hideout, hidden by mountains, several nebulous projections gathered in a circle. Each figure emanated a suffocating presence—raw power and hidden intentions.
In the center, a hoarse, cold voice broke the silence.
"Itachi. Kisame. The Third Hokage of Konoha was killed by Orochimaru. You are closer to the village, and this is a good opportunity to capture the Kyūbi."
The words hung like poison in the air.
Itachi kept his face impassive, but his eyes narrowed for a brief instant.
'Hiruzen... died?'
The crimson glow of his Sharingan flickered slightly. He knew that the old Hokage had been one of the few who understood, even without accepting, the true reason for his betrayal. Hiruzen had kept silent—and now, that silence was lost forever.
'Sasuke... will he be okay?'
His mind, for a brief moment, strayed from the organization's purpose. The memory of Konoha, of the peaceful days with the clan, and the innocent gaze of his younger brother—everything mingled in a feeling he didn't want to feel: guilt.
Beside him, Kisame Hoshigaki crossed his arms and let out a low laugh, the hoarse sound echoing through the cave.
"So the old man died, huh? Hahaha... it seems chaos is growing. And when there's chaos... there's blood. I like that."
The voice in the center replied without emotion.
"Chaos is fertile ground for the harvest. Gather information about the new Hokage. The time to capture the Kyūbi approaches."
The projections began to disappear one by one, dissolving like smoke carried by the wind. In a forest not far from Konoha, Itachi, motionless, stared into the void.
'Kyūbi... Naruto Uzumaki.'
He slowly closed his eyes, the weight of the past pressing on his chest.
'Sasuke...'
One day passed since the Third Hokage's funeral. Konoha was still covered in black ribbons and mourning scarves. The flames of the funeral pyre had died out, but the smell of smoke lingered in the air.
That same day, a new journey began.
Jiraiya, one of the Three Sannin, packed a small travel bag while Naruto, restless, watched him.
"So we're really leaving the village?"
"Yes," Jiraiya replied with a lazy smile, adjusting the scroll on his back. "We have a long way ahead. You're still weak, kid. And if you want to protect what you love, you'll need to learn to fight for real."
Naruto clenched his fists, his eyes shining with determination.
"I'll get strong! One day, I'll be Hokage!"
The Sannin let out a light laugh.
"That's the spirit. But for now... just follow my steps and try not to get lost. The world outside the village isn't as friendly as it seems."
Both departed under the gray sky. Konoha's gates closed behind them.
Meanwhile, in a remote part of the Forest of Death, the wind cut through the leaves with a constant whistle. The air was dense, humid, and the ground was covered by a creeping blanket of mist.
A metallic sound echoed—the slide of a blade leaving its sheath.
Li Shang stood in the center of a clearing, a katana in hand. The blade reflected the silver light, and the crystalline blue gaze of the Tenseigan shone with intensity.
But something was wrong.
A few meters away, another Li Shang stared at him. The same posture, the same face, the same power. It was like looking into a mirror—only the reflection smiled.
'So that's it... a clone with a manifestation of my soul?'
The clone advanced with a somber smile. Li Shang did not stand still. The aura around his body condensed, and the air vibrated with pure spiritual energy.
The blade gleamed, cutting through the air.
The shock was so intense that a wave of energy spread through the clearing, raising dust for dozens of meters.