"You'd better consider how to survive my next attack."
Kaito's voice was like ice poured down the spine—calm, unhurried, and deathly certain.
As his words faded into the crackling silence, the air itself seemed to shudder. A tangible pressure hung over the battlefield, vibrating with tension. Chakra thickened the atmosphere like a gathering storm.
Fugaku's expression shifted instantly. Instinct overtook thought. Even shielded in the ethereal blue armour of Susanoo, he moved without hesitation. With a single, swift, almost desperate motion, he yanked Itachibackwards away from whatever terror he had sensed was coming.
The Susanoo's ghostly flames twisted and roared in protest as it moved, trailing embers.
Then the ground exploded.
With a low, guttural rumble, the earth convulsed beneath where they had stood, like something ancient and monstrous had awakened beneath their feet.
Cracks spiderwebbed outward, forming glowing chakra veins that pulsed red, then—
Jagged spears of stone burst upward in a vicious, coordinated surge, like the clenched jaws of the earth trying to devour its prey whole.
The world turned hostile in an instant.
Fugaku's feet scraped against the shifting dirt, the motion precise, yet straining against pain. The radiant Susanoo shielded most of his upper body, but his face was pale, and his left eye streamed blo, d—dark, thick rivulets tracing down sapphire steel like crimson war paint.
The Susanoo burned bright, but it was still incomplete.
And Susanoo's fatal flaw remained.
The feet. Always the feet. Exposed. Vulnerable. Until full manifestation, the greatest Uchihadefencee still left you open at the base.
That weakness had almost cost him everything.
A heartbeat earlier, when Fugaku had parsed the micro-movements in Kaito's form, he had seen truth wrapped in terror: Kaito wasn't just launching attacks. He was manipulating the terrain, dragging chakra through the foundations beneath them, altering the structure itself—pulling Fugaku downward like a puppet beneath the surface, aiming to sever him from his defences.
And in that sliver of time—barely the blink of a Sharingan—Kaito had blinked through space, reappeared in front of him, and nearly ripped his eyes from their sockets.
The memory crashed through him like thunder. That moment—Kaito's hand so close, his gaze cold and surgical—that's why his instincts had screamed. That's why he had thrown himself into retreat.
Another stone spike howled through the air, grazing the hem of his cloak—shhhkkk—ripping it open with a tearing whisper.
Fugaku gritted his teeth, retreating step after step.
Uchiha pride bristled within him. Rage gnawed at his resolve. Every cell screamed to hold the line. But pride wouldn't shield him now. Only motion. Only survival.
Without his precognition active, he would've been impaled. He knew it.
And every time he reactivated that clairvoyant vision, his eyes burned. Not just strain—white-hot agony, like molten steel pouring behind the sockets. His Sharingan throbbed. His skull pulsed with heat.
Each dodge drained more than stamina.
It devoured chakra. Vision. Will.
His awareness flickered again.
And then—
Everything stopped.
A crackling, white-hot pain stabbed behind his left eye.
His predictive sight blinked out like a candle in the wind.
No.
Not now.
And then, as the next wave of earth tore upward to finish him, salvation came like a thunderclap.
A voice—gravelly, commanding, cut through the chaos.
"Summoning Jutsu: Ape Demon!"
In a swirl of smoke and chakra, Sarutobi Hiruzen's lifelong companion erupted into being with a thunderous snarl. Massive. Battle-hardened. Scarred from years of war, the Ape Demon landed like a meteor, teeth bared.
"Ape Demon—quickly! Transform into the golden-rimmed staff!"
Without hesitation, the beast howled—a sonic pulse of chakra—and in a flash of searing gold, its form compressed into a gleaming bo staff, rimmed with sacred etchings.
The golden staff extended instantly—crack!—striking down into the earth's uprising.
BOOM.
The impact shattered the spears of stone, detonating them into dust and debris. Shards shot outward, hissing like shrapnel.
Fugaku stumbled backwards, one hand clenched over his left eye, lungs heaving.
He couldn't see.
The Sharingan—his weapon, his anchor—was gone. Dormant. Useless.
In this war of gods and monsters, he was blind.
"Tch. What a nuisance."
Kaito's voice returned—quiet, disgusted, like an artist critiquing a ruined canvas.
He stepped forward through drifting smoke, movements eerily composed. His gaze was hard, narrowed, calculating. Predatory.
Five of them. Five elite shinobi. And yet...
"...Regardless," he said darkly, "I've disabled Fugaku's eyes."
His Sharingan spun again, glowing with malignant beauty. Heat shimmered at the edges of his chakra, distorting the space around him.
Good.I'm getting closer.
His gaze swept the field.
Five silhouettes. Each h is coiled with a chakra. Each tense, wary. Hiruzen. Obito. Danzo. Itachi. Fugaku.
But the fear had grown.
And Kaito exhaled slowly, calculating the cost of his next move.
Fugaku's eyes…I can feel it. Once I absorb them, Mirror Space will ascend. I'll evolve beyond all limits.
But it wouldn't come cheap.
To take them, he'd need to use his replacement again.
A weapon hidden even from most Uchiha—a technique that rewrote its position itself through Mirror Space. A blink that didn't just teleport, but swapped realities, placing him where they couldn't account for.
It made attacks look impossible. Made evasion feel supernatural.
But it came with a brutal toll.
High-level targets—like Hiruzen—required absurd amounts of chakra to cross against. Even now, the previous replacement had cost him more than 10% of his reserves. And he was already hovering around half.
He clenched his fists.
Ocular exhaustion, I can afford. It pushes me closer to the Eternal Mangekyō. But chakra?
That was blood.
Every second wasted is blood I can't afford to lose.
His pupils narrowed.
His options were shrinking.
In a blur of motion, Kaito flickered—his body dissolving into nothingness, merging with the very bones of the dimension.
"Third Hokage—be cautious!"
Fugaku's voice rang out—strained, desperate.
"Kaito's about to use that mysterious space-time ability!"
Blood streamed from his eyes again, two vivid trails painting his cheeks red.
Too late.
CLANG!
The golden staff—wielded by Hiruzen with decades of experience—met Kaito's descending blade in a flurry of sparks. The jarring impact rattled the old man's arms, but he held the line, teeth clenched.
So fast…! He's already here?!
Just as the Hokage regained footing—
Kaito vanished again.
He reappeared behind Hiruzen, blade gleaming in moonlight, angled like a guillotine for the temple.
But—
CLANK!
The Ape Demon had returned to full form in a flash and intercepted the strike, catching the blade between massive, calloused hands with a thunderous snarl.
"Well done, Ape Demon!" Hiruzen barked, heart pounding.
In a single, seamless motion, he drew a kunai from his sleeve—
THK!
And jammed it into Kaito's side, piercing through the flak jacket, straight into flesh.
Blood burst free, spraying across the broken earth.
Kaito didn't flinch.
His eyes gleamed.His voice dropped into a venomous whisper.
"Too naive."
With a cruel twist, he jerked free of the embedded kunai—leaving the sword behind—and flickered again.
He appeared beside the Hokage, close enough to taste breath.
This time—
A crackling kunai glowed in his hand.
"Lightning Style: Thunderbolt."
The chakra screamed.
Electricity surged through the blade—blue lightning dancing across its edge like a contained storm. The hum of pure death.
This wasn't just a weapon.
This was a sentence.
Kaito lunged.
Every fibre of his body coiled.
All remaining chakrass surged into that final strike.
The battlefield blurred.
Fugaku stood half-broken, one eye sealed, barely upright.Itachi trembled—not from fear, but from helplessness, his Sharingan spinning in frantic desperation.The Third Hokage braced, staff ready, sweat dripping from his chin.The Ape Demon roared, prepared to take the next blow.
And Kaito…
He moved like inevitability.
His Mirror Space pulsed with his heartbeat.
Chakra: 40%.Then 38%.Then 35%.
But still, he pressed forward.
Victory lay inches away.
Fugaku's eyes—legacy, evolution, ascension—were almost his.
One more strike.
One clean break.
Mirror Space would evolve. Kaito would transcend every limit.
His blade surged.
His eyes burned.
And the storm—It
was only just beginning.