The Chief's final, resolute words hung in the air like a spark igniting dry grass.
A shift swept through the villagers, raw, fierce, irrational courage born from despair.
"We will see!" someone muttered, clenching his fists.
"I'll kill at least one ninja before I die," another declared, his voice trembling but firm.
"We have nothing left to lose," others echoed.
The villagers, once timid, beaten down, accustomed to submission, began discussing makeshift weapons, escape routes, and ways to stall the invaders.
But their rising voices were abruptly smothered by a deep, echoing noise,
THUD!
Their heads snapped toward the entrance of the underground base.
The door, heavy, reinforced, the only exit, was now sealed shut from outside.
The Chief's face went pale.
His eyes immediately scanned the crowd.
No Ishiki.
A terrible realisation punched him in the gut.
"No… no he didn't…"
He rushed to the door, slamming his palms against the wood.
"Ishiki! ISHIKI! Open this door!"
He shoved, pulled, and rammed his shoulder into it, but something massive was wedged against it from the outside.
The villagers' confusion morphed to panic.
"Ishiki! What are you doing?! OPEN IT!" the Chief shouted, his voice cracked with betrayal and fear.
Outside, Ishiki stood alone before the sealed entrance, his small frame rigid with resolve.
He heard their cries.
He heard the Chief.
He heard everything.
But he didn't flinch.
He spoke softly, as if the Chief could hear through the heavy barrier.
"Chief… I don't want you all to die because of me."
The words trembled, but his resolve didn't.
"They're hunting me. Not you."
His hands curled into fists.
"You all stay here. I'll come back after I take care of this."
Behind the sealed door, frantic pounding erupted.
Villagers shouted, begged, and demanded he return.
But Ishiki stepped away, his heart aching, yet iron-solid.
"I'm sorry…"
He looked up at the sky.
"A coward would hide," he whispered to himself."But I'm done being weak."
He opened his System.
A bright notification lit up the screen:
— NEW GADGET UNLOCKED —
Ishiki inhaled sharply.
He didn't smile.He didn't celebrate.
He only whispered:
"Give me strength…"
And closed the panel.
Then he ran, toward the forest, toward the battlefield, toward the fate he chose.
Meanwhile:
Madara and Hashirama were each fleeing through separate regions of the forest, both pursued by three hostile shinobi, two chūnin and one jōnin each.
The air was thick with killing intent.
Leaves rustled ominously under the pressure of powerful chakra signatures.
The boys were geniuses, yes.But they were still children, twelve-year-olds against trained killers.
Both could hold their own against chūnin.
But jōnin-level opponents?
That was another world entirely.
Madara felt the crushing weight of that reality as he sprinted through an open clearing.
Behind him, three figures burst from the shadows.
The jōnin sneered.
"You brat murdered our comrades today. Now you'll pay with your life."
Madara's expression was blank.
Terrifyingly blank.
No fear.No hesitation.Just a cold, simmering hatred deep in his dark eyes.
That look alone made the three pursuers hesitate, an instinctive dread prickling at their skin.
Then Madara moved.
Lightning-fast.
His hands blurred through hand seals,
"Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
A roaring inferno erupted forward, massive and blisteringly hot.
The earth beneath it scorched black.
The three Sarutobi shinobi scrambled.
Two doves aside just in time.The third, a chūnin, was too slow.
His scream lasted less than a second before the flames consumed him.
The jōnin's eyes widened in fury.
"You MONSTER! YOU'LL DIE FOR THAT!"
He charged, chakra flaring violently.
Madara didn't flinch.
The jōnin's kick slammed into a log, shattering it into splinters.
Kawarimi.
Madara appeared behind the second chūnin.
A glint of steel.A swift, silent strike.
The kunai cut clean through the man's throat.
He collapsed, gurgling.
The jōnin's fury exploded.
"You damn Uchiha brat!"
He unleashed a barrage of Wind Release techniques, sharp, slicing currents that tore through the trees and sent leaves spiralling like razors.
Madara dodged, blocked, and countered, but he was losing ground.
Every strike hit harder.Every attack was faster.The jōnin's rage fueled his power.
Madara gasped as pain seared through him.
A wind-enhanced punch slammed into his chest.
He was thrown like a rag doll.
CRASH!
His back hit a tree so hard the trunk cracked.
He collapsed to the ground, coughing violently, blood dripping from his lips.
The jōnin breathed heavily but smirked, savouring the moment.
"You killed my men… now I'll kill you slowly."
He approached, step by step, savouring Madara's apparent helplessness.
Madara lay on the forest floor, chest burning, limbs trembling.
But his eyes,
His eyes were alive with hatred.
Hatred for the enemy.Hatred of death.Hatred for the powerlessness clawing at him.
"Stand still… and die," the jōnin hissed.
He took his final step.
And in that instant,
something snapped inside Madara.
Not physically.
Not chakra.
Something deeper.
A primal force born of mortal danger, rage, and the unbreakable will of his bloodline.
Madara's vision sharpened.
Colour drained from the world.
Time slowed.
And his eyes,
His eyes changed.
The pupils thinned.The irises glowed blood-red.A single black tomoe rotated into existence in each eye.
The forest reflected in them like polished glass.
The jōnin's face twisted into panic.
"W-wait… those eyes!"
Madara stood slowly, pain forgotten.
He looked at the jōnin with a gaze colder than death.
His voice was low, deadly smooth.
"…You shouldn't have come after me."
The Sharingan had awakened.
And Madara Uchiha was born.
Back in the underground shelter, the villagers were pounding on the sealed entrance, shouting Ishiki's name, begging him to return.
But the Chief stood silent now.
His anger had passed.
Now there was only sorrow and pride.
"That boy…" he whispered. "He carries a will stronger than any of us."
He placed one hand on the wooden door.
"Ishiki… come back alive."