In the next instant, Kaito's instincts screamed. A chilling surge of danger twisted in his gut like a kunai pressed to his spine.
His Mangekyō flared. "God's Presence."
Without hesitation, he flickered out of existence, vanishing from Hiruzen's proximity in a blur of chakra and wind.
And just as his silhouette faded from reality, a sinister flame bloomed in the space he had just occupied.
A black fire.
It consumed the air itself, burning with a heat so absolute it distorted the space around it. Reality seemed to writhe and recoil, the void bending unnaturally at the epicentre. The ground beneath hissed as if screaming.
Far in the distance, Itachi stood motionless, blood trailing from the corner of his right eye—his body trembling from the strain.
"Amaterasu?!"
The word echoed through Kaito's mind like a bell tolling in a crypt.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning Itachi.
In the original timeline, this power only awakened years later… in the clash with the Three-Tails. But now—now, because of me, he's awakened it early.
Kaito's voice cut through the thick tension, equal parts amusement and admiration.
"Didn't think you'd unlock Amaterasu ahead of schedule… Impressive, Itachi."
Itachi's right eye twitched as the flame in the distance began to fade, retreating like a curse unwilling to linger.
"Why?" he shouted, his voice raw. "Why would you do such a thing?!"
Kaito's smirk vanished. His eyes darkened, voice dropping to an icy growl.
"And what compels your actions, Itachi?"
The words held more than meaning. They carried a history—accusation, understanding, and pain layered beneath each syllable.
Both knew what wasn't being said.
Itachi's face contorted in defiance and anguish.
"I fight for the peace of the village! For the future of the Uchiha!"
"Peace? Future?" Kaito scoffed.
His words turned into blades.
"Whose peace do you think you're protecting, Itachi? Konoha's?"
He stepped forward, voice rising with righteous fury.
"No. What you protect is the peace of Sarutobi Hiruzen. The peace of the Sarutobi clan!"
"You think you're safeguarding the village, but you're propping up a decaying regime—a regime that hides its rot behind diplomacy and legacy."
His tone turned venomous, but clear—controlled like a scalpel cutting truth into flesh.
"Despite our clan's irreconcilable conflict with the Senju, even Tobirama's governance had spine. Ruthless? Yes. But fair in its hierarchy. He allowed merit to shine—commoners could rise if they proved themselves!"
"Konoha thrived under Tobirama. Opportunities bloomed. Power could be earned, not inherited."
"But once Hiruzen took power? That balance died."
His words tore through the battlefield like a storm tearing through branches.
"Two Great Ninja Wars? A façade. He coasted on Tobirama's legacy—draining it like a leech while pretending to be a sage."
"He sat in his tower, sipping tea, pushing paper… and let others bleed in his name."
Kaito's eyes burned with loathing.
"Other villages have a Kage who leads. Who acts. But this man… this coward… dares call himself the Strongest Hokage?"
"His reign corrupted everything."
"The founding ideals of equality and peace? Twisted. Under his rule, class lines calcified. The elite got richer in chakra and influence. The civilians? Reduced to fodder."
"Only those who pledged themselves to his inner circle—those who bowed low enough—were given access to Konoha's power. The rest? Cast aside."
He spat on the ground, as if trying to purge the bitterness from his tongue.
"He manipulated the clans like a chessboard. Uchiha. Hyuga. Aburame. All tools to maintain his dynasty."
"He funnelled resources to his kin. Look at the Sarutobi clan now—fat with privilege, coddled in positions of prestige. Meanwhile, an average Chunin dies nameless in the mud."
His voice cut deeper, now aimed squarely at Itachi's soul.
"Do you truly think sacrificing your own family will save the village?"
"No. You're not a saviour. You're a pawn."
"A blade sharpened and used—then cast aside by the very regime you bleed for."
"None of the fools in the high towers of Konoha will recognise your sacrifice. They'll bury you as they did the rest—just another name on a stone, forgotten by dawn."
And as Kaito spoke, the space around him subtly shimmered—a barrier layered with his chakra. It blocked incoming sound, but his voice projected outward, carried like a sermon through the air.
The ANBU, stationed just beyond the field, heard every word.
Some wore the crests of noble clans. But most—nearly 70%—were civilians. 90% were mere Chunin. The backbone of Konoha's might. The expendables.
His words dug into them like buried kunai.
At first, silence.
Then, shifting glances. Furtive, uncertain. Some clenched their fists. Others lowered their heads.
The clan-affiliated stood impassive, used to power games.
But the civilian ANBU… they were shaken.
Each sentence from Kaito unearthed a truth they had long buried in service. A truth they dared not speak—but had always known.
No promotions. No recognition. No path upward. Just orders and sacrifice.
The illusion of equality shattered like glass underfoot.
A bitter truth settled in their hearts.
Betrayal.
Their gazes slowly shifted toward Sarutobi Hiruzen.
Once, they looked upon him with reverence. Now… resentment burned in their eyes. Cold. Personal.
The battlefield fell into an eerie stillness.
The silence wasn't peace—it was reckoning.
Itachi stood, frozen.
His heart thudded in his chest, not from Amaterasu's strain, but from doubt. Unwanted, but undeniable.
Kaito had carved open the hidden rot.
And it stank of truth.
Sarutobi, kneeling and armless, blood pouring from stumps like rivers, could only glare at Kaito with a hollow expression—a mix of hatred and helpless realisation.
The ANBU behind him shifted, and for the first time in years, he felt… vulnerable.
Exposed.
Kaito stood tall, eyes sweeping across the field, not as a rogue, but as a prophet of collapse.
He had done more than fight.
He had corrupted their faith.
This battle was never just about chakra or jutsu.
It was a war of narratives.
A war of truth.
And Kaito had won this round—not with a blade, but with words that cut deeper.
The shadows of the past had been dragged into daylight.
And the eyes of the future—those ANBU, that Itachi, those watching from the smoke—were watching.
Konoha's foundation had cracked.
Now, it was only a matter of time before it broke.