Uchiha Main Compound — Secret Underground Chamber
Deep beneath the Uchiha main compound lay a secret medical chamber protected by centuries-old Fuinjutsu and defensive seals. The narrow, cold passage leading to it was so well hidden that even most of the Uchiha clan's respected warriors were completely unaware of its existence. The chamber had been created for those rare occasions when the Uchiha needed to save one of their most important and severely wounded shinobi away from the prying eyes of the village.
The heavy, ancient iron door opened with a deep rumble.
Itachi entered.
Dust, soot, and exhaustion covered his face, but his steps did not falter. Shisui's unconscious, almost lifeless body hung across his back. Fresh, dark blood continued dripping from Shisui's torn shinobi clothing onto the sealing formation beneath them. Each drop produced a faint, rough sound against the stone.
Supporting Shisui with one arm, Itachi touched a vacant seal carved into the wall with his trembling fingers.
The intricate circular symbols engraved into the stone suddenly began glowing blue and red.
The formation activated completely.
At that exact moment, in the main mansion above them, a small Fuinjutsu paper lying on the wooden desk inside Fugaku's private study suddenly burst into blue flames.
It was the Uchiha family's highest emergency signal.
Such a signal was used only when the life of a senior member of the family or clan was on the immediate brink of death.
Within seconds, Fugaku and Mikoto were already rushing down the hidden staircase.
The moment Fugaku saw the scene before him, his steps froze.
Shisui lay unconscious on the cold stone platform.
The entire right side of his face was covered in blood.
Where his right eye should have been, there was only an open, horrifying, blood-covered socket.
"Shisui..."
There was an unfamiliar tremor in Fugaku's normally heavy and disciplined voice.
Itachi controlled a heavy breath before speaking.
"Father... Naruto sent me to the Naka River at exactly the right moment. If I had been even a moment late, Shisui would not have survived."
Fugaku said nothing.
A seven-year-old child.
A boy who, until recently, had been regarded by much of the village as the center of its hatred.
That boy had not only anticipated Danzō's extremely cruel and secret attack, but had sent Itachi to exactly the place and moment where his presence had become essential.
Fugaku had seen countless battlefields.
He had unraveled political traps.
He had survived years of conflict.
But for the first time, he felt that events had completely slipped beyond the control of the Konoha council, the Uchiha elders, and even himself.
Mikoto did not waste a second.
She placed a hand on Fugaku's shoulder and moved forward.
"Politics can wait. Save him first."
---
Uchiha Medical Chamber
Mikoto immediately awakened the medical shinobi training she had suppressed for years. Before becoming a housewife, she had been an elite Uchiha jōnin and a skilled battlefield medical kunoichi.
She quickly pulled several Fuinjutsu medical patches from her pouch and placed hemostatic seals around Shisui's chest, forehead, and neck.
Dense, emerald-green medical chakra burst from both her hands and spread around Shisui's head.
"Itachi, hold his head with both hands. Do not let it move even slightly."
Itachi immediately obeyed.
Mikoto's medical chakra began reconnecting Shisui's torn flesh, ruptured blood vessels, and damaged cranial nerves. The brutality with which his eye had been ripped from its socket had severely torn the optic nerves.
She carefully sealed the empty right eye socket with antibacterial chakra while simultaneously creating a dense protective layer around the optic nerves of Shisui's remaining left eye.
For a long time, the chamber contained nothing except the soft hum of chakra and the sound of blood dripping onto stone.
Slowly, the bleeding from the right side of Shisui's face began to stop.
His shallow, uncontrolled breathing gradually settled into a slow and stable rhythm.
But he did not regain consciousness.
His mind had disappeared into a deep darkness.
Nearly half an hour later, after prolonged treatment, Mikoto wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. Her fingers trembled slightly.
"His physical condition is stable now."
Fugaku looked toward her with tired, sunken eyes.
"But?"
Mikoto's expression became grave.
"The mental trauma is enormous. His nerves have suffered tremendous strain. Having his eye forcibly removed... and then suffering such a betrayal..."
She looked at Shisui.
"His mind has not been able to process the shock. The danger has not completely passed yet."
Fugaku stared at Shisui's pale, lifeless-looking face.
The young man he had regarded as one of the fastest, most loyal, and most dependable warriors of the clan now lay hidden beneath the Uchiha compound, hanging between life and death.
And the cause of this cruelty was not some foreign enemy beyond the borders.
It was their own village.
The very leaders whose protection Shisui had sworn to uphold day and night.
---
Uchiha Compound — Dark Corridor
Outside the treatment chamber, Fugaku and Itachi stood facing one another in the dark, cold corridor. Dampness seeped through the stone walls, filling the air with an unpleasant bitterness.
"Tell me everything, Itachi."
"Every word."
Itachi began recounting the horror at the Naka River without hiding anything.
He explained how Shisui had gone to the Hokage Tower.
How he had exposed his Mangekyō Sharingan and the full nature of Kotoamatsukami before the council and the Hokage.
How, in his desperation to prove himself truly loyal, he had even revealed the secrets of the Uchiha's most carefully guarded forbidden techniques—
Izanagi and Izanami.
And then came the ambush at the Naka River.
"The attackers were wearing the clothing and headbands of Kumogakure shinobi."
Itachi's voice was cold enough to freeze.
"But their techniques, their formation, and their silence were unmistakably Root. They trapped Shisui inside a specialized sealing formation."
Fugaku's fists tightened so hard that his fingernails dug into his palms.
"And his eye?"
"They had already taken the right eye."
Itachi's eyes hardened.
"When they moved toward the second eye, I attacked. They fled with the eye they had taken."
Silence filled the corridor.
Fugaku slowly stared at his trembling palms.
"They did this to Shisui..."
His voice contained more than anger.
It contained a deep, numbing fear.
"To the boy who had distanced himself even from his own clan for the sake of the village. The boy who had placed his entire life upon the altar of the Will of Fire."
Itachi remained silent.
Fugaku closed his eyes.
"If they can do this to their most trusted pawn..."
His voice faltered.
"...what will they do to us?"
He opened his eyes and looked directly at Itachi.
"What about our other children?"
"Sasuke?"
He drew a heavy, exhausted breath.
"And Naruto?"
Fear now completely shadowed his face.
"The greed and fear of Danzō and the council know no limits anymore."
For several seconds, Fugaku tried to regain control over himself.
Then he straightened.
"Staying alive is our first priority."
His voice became firm.
"We need to strengthen our defenses. We need to take some concrete action..."
He paused.
"But what?"
Itachi answered calmly, without blinking.
"I think we should let Naruto decide."
Fugaku stared at his elder son in surprise.
"He is seven years old, Itachi!"
His voice rose.
"We should protect him. We should hide him beneath the safety of our family and keep him away from danger. He is the last living reminder of Minato and Kushina. We cannot take a seven-year-old orphan and place him on the front line as a shield in a political war!"
The helpless pain and fear of a father were obvious in his voice.
Itachi looked deeply into his father's eyes.
"You and I cannot stop him, Father."
Fugaku's words caught in his throat.
"He has already begun moving forward alone."
Itachi's voice was as firm as stone.
"With us or without us. He started this fight alone from the very beginning. He cannot be stopped."
Fugaku opened his mouth to argue.
But Itachi spoke before he could.
"Naruto will not stop..."
"...until he gets his Era of Truth—his Satyug."
A profound uneasiness spread through Fugaku's eyes.
Itachi spoke slowly, but with complete certainty.
"He will keep fighting."
"Either he will completely change this rotten system..."
"...or he will die fighting it."
Fugaku had no answer.
Because in the deepest part of his heart, he knew every word Itachi had spoken was true.
---
Fire Country Border
On the eastern border of the Land of Fire, deep among the trees, the body of a dead spy lay abandoned among the bushes.
It had been left there for hours.
Several kunai wounds covered his chest.
A small secret message scroll hidden inside his clothing had been soaked halfway through with blood, but the primary code engraved upon it remained readable.
He was one of dozens of foreign spies who had spent the previous seven months trying to penetrate Konoha's unprecedented and brutally strict information blackout.
Konoha had transformed its borders into an iron wall to conceal its internal unrest, Naruto's extraordinary rise, and the growing Uchiha tension from the rest of the world.
For seven months, not a single reliable piece of information had escaped.
No Great Shinobi Village willingly revealed its weaknesses to its rivals.
The bitterness of the previous Great Wars remained fresh in history, and peace rested primarily upon written agreements. Distrust still existed beneath the surface.
Therefore Konoha had kept its internal cracks behind a curtain.
But the bloody night at the Naka River changed everything.
The activation of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
The revelation of the unimaginable power known as Kotoamatsukami.
Root violently attacking one of its own senior shinobi.
A giant like Shisui falling covered in blood.
And discussion of the Uchiha's forbidden techniques.
The shockwaves were so powerful that cracks finally appeared in the iron doors that had remained closed for seven months.
Foreign spies hidden inside Konoha risked everything to send the news beyond its borders through emergency messenger birds, underground couriers, and chakra scrolls.
Many spies were caught by ANBU and killed on the spot.
But the flames had escaped.
For the first time in history since Madara Uchiha, a living Uchiha had been confirmed to possess the Mangekyō Sharingan.
And even more frightening was Kotoamatsukami—
a genjutsu capable of bringing even a ruler, general, or Kage's independent thoughts under its control without that person ever realizing it.
An old saying recorded in the archives of the shinobi world began echoing through the shadows once again:
> "If Hashirama Senju was the God of the Shinobi World, then Madara Uchiha was certainly its very Devil."
And now the entire world faced one terrifying question:
Had another Madara been born in Konoha?
---
Kumogakure — Main Military Headquarters
High among the vast, snow-covered mountain ranges of Kumogakure, an emergency meeting was underway inside the main military headquarters.
After seven months of silence, this first detailed intelligence report had filled the chamber with heavy tension.
The Fourth Raikage, A, read the report with sharp eyes.
"Mangekyō Sharingan..."
His thunderous voice echoed through the room.
"First time since Madara's death."
A senior strategist stepped forward.
"Raikage-sama, the report goes far beyond the Mangekyō. The technique is called Kotoamatsukami. A genjutsu capable of permanently altering another person's decisions without any physical sign."
"This is not an ordinary technique."
"It is a strategic weapon of the highest order."
The Raikage remained completely still for several moments.
Then, instead of fear, a cruel and unshakable confidence appeared on his face.
Kumo trusted its military strength.
They had the Fourth Raikage himself.
They had the Eight-Tails' fully controlled Jinchūriki, Killer B.
And they had the Two-Tails Jinchūriki, Yugito Nii.
Two powerful Jinchūriki were already part of their military strength.
Kumo's leadership was so confident in its own power that Konoha's internal destruction looked more like an opportunity than a threat.
Another officer turned the page.
"And, Raikage-sama... Konoha's Nine-Tails Jinchūriki?"
"The seven-year-old child," another adviser said almost mockingly. "After spending only seven months in the Academy, he has already stood against his own highest authority and Hokage. The village is socially divided, and the Uchiha appear to be standing with him."
The Raikage's eyes moved toward the storm clouds beyond the window.
"Then keep your eyes completely open."
His voice became aggressive.
"We will see how far Konoha's internal fire spreads..."
He slammed his fist onto the table.
"Triple the patrols and surveillance of all three frontline battalions!"
"If Konoha breaks apart from within..."
A predatory gleam appeared in his eyes.
"...then Kumogakure will be the first to crush the Leaf and trample the village beneath its feet."
---
Kirigakure — Mist-Shrouded Administrative Chamber
A secret meeting was underway inside Kirigakure's fog-filled administrative chamber.
The report from Konoha had shaken even the maps spread across the table.
Mangekyō.
Kotoamatsukami.
Uchiha rebellion.
These words reopened old wounds within the minds of Kiri's senior commanders.
But standing in the darkest corner of the room, the veteran Hunter-nin Ao was thinking about something completely different.
At first, he wondered whether the reports about Kotoamatsukami might simply be Konoha propaganda designed to make the world fear the Uchiha again.
But the more he read, the more one thought kept stabbing at his mind.
A genjutsu that could bend a person's decisions like those of a puppet without the victim realizing it...
If such a technique truly existed—
could something similar already be happening inside Kirigakure?
A disturbing suspicion began burning inside Ao.
Without saying a word, he quietly left the meeting.
In the suffocating mist, he climbed to a secluded high tower and removed the patch covering his right eye.
The precious Byakugan implanted beneath it activated, its veins rising around the eye.
His penetrating vision cut through the mist and focused directly upon the main Mizukage Tower.
The next moment, Ao's remaining normal eye widened in horror.
His heart began pounding violently.
The Fourth Mizukage, Yagura—
who for months had been issuing some of the most brutal orders of the Bloody Mist and had almost completely withdrawn from personal contact—
had an extremely subtle, deep, foreign chakra pattern crawling around his brain and central chakra network like a parasite.
Ao's entire face became covered in sweat.
His complexion went pale.
His legs trembled.
He rushed back into the meeting chamber.
The senior commanders instinctively placed their hands on their sword hilts when they saw his shaken condition.
Ao spoke in a trembling but deadly serious voice.
"We should stop worrying about Konoha immediately..."
The room fell silent.
"Our own Fourth Mizukage..."
He swallowed.
"...is under the complete and cruel control of an unknown Uchiha Mangekyō genjutsu!"
Silence swallowed the entire room.
A leak of information from Konoha had unintentionally ripped apart Kirigakure's greatest, most horrifying, and most shameful secret.
One of the five great nations had its highest leader—
a Kage—
reduced to a puppet in the hands of an invisible shadow.
---
Iwagakure — Tsuchikage's Chamber
Inside the massive stone chamber surrounded by the mountains of Iwagakure, the Third Tsuchikage, Ōnoki, read the report delivered by a secret messenger.
"Mangekyō..."
The old man's wrinkled fingers trembled uncontrollably around the paper.
The present chamber disappeared from his mind.
A dark day from decades earlier became alive again.
He was a young shinobi, standing beside his teacher, the Second Tsuchikage, Mū.
And standing before them was—
Madara Uchiha.
The overwhelming chakra of that single man.
Those red eyes that seemed capable of consuming the soul of anyone who looked into them.
The suffocating pressure that filled the air simply because he was standing there.
That day had shattered the arrogance inside Ōnoki.
The trauma had never truly left him.
He slowly placed the report on the table.
"No..."
His voice was dry and extremely hard.
"We will not allow that historical catastrophe to happen again on our soil."
One of his senior generals stepped forward.
"Tsuchikage-sama, should we begin an offensive operation against Konoha's borders immediately?"
Ōnoki slowly shook his head.
"Not yet."
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"But put every hidden eye we possess on Konoha's streets, every clan, and especially that seven-year-old Jinchūriki."
"I want to know his every move."
He turned toward his generals.
"And secretly raise our stone forces to wartime readiness."
"If the shadow of the Uchiha rises again with its full strength..."
His voice hardened.
"...we must find a way to erase this threat before it becomes enormous."
---
Sunagakure — Kazekage's Office
Amid the burning winds and endless sands of Sunagakure, the Fourth Kazekage, Rasa, read the confidential report on his desk for the third time.
His own painful past began swirling through his mind like a sandstorm.
What had he sacrificed in the name of making his village stronger and safer?
He had lost his beloved wife, Karura.
He had taken happiness and childhood away from his own children.
He had placed all the peace and happiness of his family upon the altar of creating a living weapon.
And what had he received in return?
Gaara.
A mentally unstable, bloodthirsty, uncontrollable power.
A child whose inability to sleep had turned every day in Sunagakure into a game of death.
Rasa's eyes stopped on one name in the report.
Naruto Uzumaki.
Konoha's Nine-Tails Jinchūriki.
Seven years old.
A social and ideological rebel.
In direct conflict with authority.
Rasa's gaze moved toward the balcony.
Far away, his seven-year-old son Gaara sat alone on a mound of sand, shaping figures with his own power.
A new, cold poison entered Rasa's chest.
"If Konoha's Jinchūriki can stand against his own village's system at seven..."
His fingers tightened against the desk.
"...and bring a clan like the Uchiha to his side..."
He looked toward his son.
"...then why couldn't Gaara one day stand against me and this entire village?"
Without hesitation, he summoned his head of security.
"Double the ANBU units assigned around Gaara!"
"Watch his every movement."
"Watch him twenty-four hours a day."
"If even the slightest sign of political or social rebellion appears in his behavior, inform me immediately."
Konoha's spark had taught Rasa to fear even more deeply the living weapon he himself had created.
---
Capitals of the Five Great Nations
Konoha's secret was no longer confined to the shinobi headquarters.
Slowly, the news reached the grand palaces of the civilian rulers of the five great nations—the Daimyō.
For the civilian rulers and their ministers, this was no ordinary dispute between shinobi.
A seven-year-old Jinchūriki.
The most powerful military clan of the Fire Country—the Uchiha.
The return of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
And internal chaos that Konoha had concealed for seven months.
If a major civil war erupted inside Konoha, the consequences would not remain confined to the village hidden among the leaves.
Trade routes could collapse.
Bandits, smugglers, and mercenaries could seize the borders.
The military and economic balance of the five great nations could be permanently destabilized.
One after another, the Daimyō began demanding immediate official explanations from their respective hidden villages.
For the first time, the civilian rulers truly understood how fragile the foundations beneath the shinobi villages they funded actually were.
Fire Country Capital — Royal Court
Inside the magnificent golden palace of the Fire Country's capital, the atmosphere was tense and explosive.
The Fire Daimyō slammed Konoha's report onto the heavy table before him.
"Seven months!"
Standing before him in the official uniform of one of Konoha's Twelve Guardian Ninja was the Third Hokage's younger son—
Asuma Sarutobi.
His head was lowered.
"Seven months this terrible political game has been taking place inside Konoha..."
The Daimyō's voice thundered across the hall.
"...and I—the highest ruler of this country—am learning about it only now through a foreign spy?"
"A seven-year-old Jinchūriki has practically taken the village's entire administrative structure hostage!"
"The Uchiha clan is openly preparing to withdraw from political power!"
"And a catastrophic power like the Mangekyō Sharingan is spilling blood in the streets!"
His sharp, humiliating gaze settled on Asuma.
"And your father—the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi—kept me completely in the dark?"
Asuma had no answer.
His throat had gone dry.
The Daimyō closed his silk fan against the table and asked in a deeply personal, bitter voice:
"Asuma... you left the shadow of your father and Konoha to become one of this court's Twelve Guardian Ninja."
His gaze became colder.
"Did you already know somewhere inside that your aging father had become so incapable and weak that he could not manage one child, one clan, and his entire village?"
Asuma's face lowered further in humiliation, anger, and shame.
The attack upon his father's administrative ability cut through him like a blade.
The Daimyō immediately ordered his secretary to bring forward an official royal decree and stamped it with his golden seal.
"I no longer trust Konoha's false paper reports."
He extended the decree toward Asuma.
"You will become my personal and official envoy."
"You will leave for Konoha immediately."
"You will see with your own eyes what is actually happening there."
"Who Naruto Uzumaki is."
"What he wants."
"What the true condition of the Uchiha clan is."
"And you will look directly into your father's eyes and demand an answer for this betrayal of my trust."
Asuma bowed and accepted the decree.
"Understood, Lord Daimyō."
Now Konoha was no longer facing only the eyes of foreign shinobi villages.
The political blade of its own capital was hanging over its neck as well.
Akatsuki Underground Hideout
Inside the Akatsuki's secret underground headquarters, hidden deep within an unknown forest, almost all of the organization's major members were present that night.
Pain and Konan stood upon the elevated stone platforms. Tobi—Obito—and Black Zetsu waited in the shadows. Sasori, Kisame, and Orochimaru stood grouped across the floor, while Kakuzu stood leaning against a pillar beside his partner, Muramasa—the stoic, honorable rogue samurai of the Iron Country whose traditional armor and twin blades marked a sharp contrast against the dark cloaks around him.
A serious discussion was underway over the latest intelligence report from Konoha.
Black Zetsu turned toward Orochimaru.
"Seven months ago, I asked you to investigate the sudden disappearance of one of my special clones near the outer borders of Konoha. Do you remember?"
A faint, mysterious smile appeared on Orochimaru's pale, snake-like face.
"How could I forget such an interesting incident?"
He interlaced his long fingers.
"I investigated the area thoroughly. That same night, several of Danzō's hidden Root spies also mysteriously disappeared from the forest."
Black Zetsu remained silent for several moments. Then, half rising from the ground, he said:
"They were not Root spies."
Orochimaru's snake-like eyes narrowed.
"Then who were they?"
"They were my own special clones." Black Zetsu revealed the truth. "They had taken the uniforms and chakra signatures of Root members so that they could monitor Danzō and Konoha's internal movements from close range without suspicion."
Orochimaru's smile slowly widened.
"So then..." He lowered his voice. "...the possibility that the seven-year-old Naruto Uzumaki was directly responsible for what happened that night is no longer merely speculation."
Black Zetsu's voice became cold.
"But one thing still makes no sense."
"What?"
"Why did that child choose only my clones and destroy only them that night?"
A sharp intellectual light flashed through Orochimaru's eyes.
"That is the greatest mystery."
Black Zetsu looked directly at him.
"Then that is your next mission, Orochimaru. Find out what that boy actually knows."
Orochimaru gave a thin, dry laugh.
"Very interesting."
He lifted the newest Konoha report from the table.
"Inoichi Yamanaka and Konoha's senior doctors have proposed a rather scientific theory. They believe that prolonged exposure to the overwhelming chakra of the Kyuubi may have caused some extremely rare and remarkable mutation within the boy's body and brain."
He touched his upper lip with his tongue.
"Biologically, it is possible. But I am convinced that this is not the whole story of that boy's existence."
His yellow pupils gleamed in the darkness.
"He is only seven. He entered the Ninja Academy only seven months ago. And within those mere seven months, he has shaken the political, social, and military structure of a massive village that has existed for decades."
Even the ruthless killers of the Akatsuki had fallen silent to listen. Beside Kakuzu, Muramasa's hand rested calmly on the hilt of his katana, his weathered, disciplined eyes fixed intently on the scroll.
Orochimaru placed the report down.
"And that is what interests me most. Why did he even enter that ordinary academy?"
Sasori raised his head for the first time from within his wooden puppet body.
Orochimaru raised his hands.
"He does not need anyone's validation. He has no hunger for the village's false recognition. And I doubt he has even the slightest interest in graduating as an ordinary Genin."
"Then what is he doing inside that Academy?"
A deep, philosophical smile spread across Orochimaru's face.
"Because the Academy is not a school where he becomes a shinobi. It is an open stage from which he can observe the entire political chessboard and move its pieces. For the past seven months, he has used that stage with extraordinary precision. He watches every teacher. He tests the thinking of every heir of every major clan. He senses the weaknesses of authority. And then he takes the foundational principles of that same system and holds them up before the system itself like a mirror."
There was now genuine admiration on Orochimaru's face.
"I believe our organization should focus its hidden eyes even more strongly upon the Academy."
Kisame rested Samehada across his shoulder and smiled broadly.
"Orochimaru-san... it seems you are becoming quite the admirer of that seven-year-old child."
"Yes," Orochimaru replied smoothly. "Because I truly have. I spent my entire life searching for the ultimate truths of this mortal world and for immortality. And now, for the first time in history, a seven-year-old orphan is openly declaring that he will establish his own Era of Truth—Satyug in this world."
His gaze shifted toward Sasori.
"A child who refuses to become the puppet of any authority, any clan, or any system in this entire world would be the greatest stupidity of this organization to dismiss."
Sasori's puppet joints clicked faintly. "Flesh and emotion are weak, Orochimaru. They inevitably turn every human being into a puppet of society, fear, or fate. Only an eternal, unfeeling form can truly remain free."
"And yet," a deep, grounded voice resonated across the chamber.
It was Muramasa.
The samurai adjusted his posture, his presence dignified and untainted by the sinister chakra filling the room.
"A man who lives by the code of absolute truth carries a blade sharper than steel," Muramasa said, his voice measured and solemn. "You speak of puppets and mechanisms, puppet master. But in the Land of Iron, we know that when a warrior strips away deceit and stands entirely upon his conviction, no lord, no coin, and no fear can bind his spirit. If a child of seven years has already mastered that code, he does not wield shinobi trickery—he wields the path of an unbending sovereign."
Kakuzu gave a dry, raspy grunt. "Sovereign or not, conviction doesn't pay bounties. Though if Konoha's leadership collapses because of his words, the chaos will drive the market price of every ninja in the Fire Country through the roof."
"Always coin, Kakuzu," Muramasa replied quietly, shaking his head. "You measure the world in gold, yet you fail to see when a man's honor is heavy enough to tilt nations."
Sasori remained silent, but the twin arguments of Orochimaru and the samurai gnawed at his core. A child who refused to be bound by strings, standing in defiance of the world—it was a contradiction to everything Sasori had built his existence upon.
Orochimaru rolled the report closed, his smile widening.
"And do you know the most ironic and beautiful part of this entire story?"
Every pair of eyes in the chamber locked onto him.
"After creating such a tremendous earthquake across the entire world, that same boy is celebrating his seventh birthday today. Inside the same Konoha. Under the hospitality of the same Uchiha family which only days ago the entire village regarded as its most dangerous and bloodthirsty enemy."
He exhaled slowly.
"The world truly has become unrecognizable."
Kamui Dimension
Within the endless, gray, deserted stones of the Kamui Dimension, only Obito Uchiha and Black Zetsu stood together.
Black Zetsu's dark body was half emerged from the ground.
"Obito, we should not give Naruto Uzumaki much more time."
His voice contained concern.
"We should eliminate him now, while he is still in the early stages."
Obito slowly shook his head behind the orange mask.
"No."
"He is highly intelligent."
Obito's voice remained cold.
"And precisely because of that, killing him at this moment would be extremely impractical and potentially suicidal."
Black Zetsu asked:
"Why?"
Obito's cloak moved slightly in the empty dimensional wind.
"First reason—the Akatsuki is still hidden from the eyes of the entire world."
"Right now, we are doing nothing more than small mercenary missions, building our money and resources."
"If we attack the main territory of Konoha and kill its Nine-Tails Jinchūriki now, our existence will be exposed to the entire world."
"And all five great shinobi villages will forget their differences and form an unprecedented alliance against us."
He paused.
"But the far more serious problem is the Nine-Tails' rebirth."
Black Zetsu's eyes narrowed.
"Throughout history, the Nine-Tails has never been permanently killed."
"If the Jinchūriki dies, its chakra disperses and, after some time, it naturally reforms and is born again."
"But we possess no certain time, no certain location, and no mathematical formula for its rebirth."
"If we kill Naruto now, and it takes many years or even decades for the Nine-Tails to physically return to this world..."
Obito's voice grew heavy.
"...then our Eye of the Moon project could hang in darkness for an uncertain amount of time."
Black Zetsu remained silent.
He could not refute the argument.
Obito continued.
"Let Naruto continue fighting Konoha's rotten system."
"The more he challenges their authority and the policies of the council..."
"...the more the village's leaders will isolate and reject him."
"And the day he willingly leaves the borders of that village forever..."
"that day, capturing and controlling him on open ground will be child's play."
Black Zetsu raised one final concern.
"And what if, by then, he becomes far more powerful and dangerous than we imagine?"
Obito's single Sharingan gleamed through the opening of his mask.
"No matter how extraordinary or powerful that boy becomes..."
"He will never stand against the limitless divine power of the Rinnegan."
"Nagato will deal with him when the time comes."
The final decision had been made.
Naruto Uzumaki would be left untouched by direct aggression—
for now.
Uchiha Main Mansion
Across the world, fear, suspicion, military calculations, and secret conspiracies were spreading.
Kumogakure was sharpening its blades along its frozen borders.
In the stone halls of Iwagakure, Ōnoki's trembling hands were drawing war maps beneath the shadow of old memories.
In the burning sands of Sunagakure, Rasa was placing guards around the breathing of his own seven-year-old son.
In the thick mist of Kirigakure, Ao's discovery had ignited the possibility of a secret internal conflict against his own Mizukage.
The Daimyō of the five great nations were demanding accountability from their hidden villages.
The Fire Daimyō's royal envoy, Asuma Sarutobi, was riding toward Konoha with a royal decree in his hands.
And within the shadows, the Akatsuki's deadly members were staring in amazement at the intelligence of a seven-year-old boy.
Konoha itself appeared calm from the outside.
But it was an enormous, boiling volcano whose political pressure was ready to erupt at any moment.
Across the entire shinobi world, every eye, every spy, and every ruler carried the same question in their minds:
"What kind of storm is rising inside Konoha?"
Yet none of those powerful leaders knew the simplest truth.
At the center of this entire global earthquake and political storm, the boy himself was not standing on a battlefield.
He was not preparing a secret army.
He was not drawing a weapon.
He was simply sitting inside a decorated room of the Uchiha family mansion, surrounded by the warm golden glow of candles and the food Mikoto had lovingly prepared.
Sasuke watched with excitement.
Itachi stood quietly nearby.
And upon Fugaku's face, after a very long time, there was a faint, peaceful smile.
The same Konoha.
The same Uchiha family—
the family which only days earlier the entire village had considered its greatest threat.
The world believed that a terrible storm was about to arrive in Konoha.
They did not yet know that the real storm had already passed through.
Now the world was only beginning to see the footprints it had left behind.
The entire world was trembling because seven-year-old Naruto Uzumaki had shaken the roots of the entire system—
not through physical violence, but through the unwavering words of truth.
And him?
He was smiling.
Celebrating his seventh birthday.
He was cutting the cake...