Itachi's eyes narrowed, the crimson glow of his Sharingan shimmering like a storm barely contained. Kaito's voice echoed in his mind—not merely a provocation, but a scalpel peeling back the scar tissue of years of justification, denial, and guilt. Each word struck with the force of a kunai to the heart.
Doubt slithered through him like a poison.
Guilt clawed its way up from his gut, acidic and suffocating.
Desperation screamed within his chest, muffled only by the steel grip of the duty he had never once dared to set down.
Flashes of memory tore across his mind like lightning: the night sky lit crimson by flames, the cold, vacant eyes of his kin, the trembling form of his brother clutching his legs and wailing for mercy. The blood, so much blood, still stained his hands—no matter how many times he washed them.
Yet through it all, his resolve had never broken. His loyalty to Konoha. His dream of peace. His duty to the Uchiha. He had borne it all alone.
"You speak as if you understand everything," Itachi said, his voice low and brittle, barely keeping the tremor from his throat. "But you don't know the burden I carry. My loyalty to Konoha and my duty to the Uchiha… they're not so easily separated."
Kaito's eyes gleamed with disdain, the blade of his tongue cutting deeper than any sword. "Your loyalty to Konoha cost you your family. Do you still believe that is justifiable?"
A beat of silence passed.
Itachi's gaze sharpened, Sharingan spinning with slow-burning intensity. "I have made my choices… and I will bear their consequences. Everything I've done—everything I still do—is for peace. Not for myself. For the future."
He turned away slightly, as if to shield his shame from the world. But the trembling of his shoulders betrayed the agony churning beneath his calm facade.
"And you're afraid," Kaito pressed, his voice slick with venom, "afraid that your brother, Sasuke, will be crushed under the very world you helped preserve. That your sacrifices will mean nothing."
Itachi's breath caught. His pupils shrank.
"You bartered the lives of your entire clan… for his."
The words were spoken like a curse. There was no rebuttal—only the silent scream that tore through Itachi's soul.
"If you don't believe me," Kaito said coldly, "perhaps I should give you a choice."
Itachi's voice was hoarse, barely audible. "What kind of choice?"
Behind him, Obito's fingers twitched near his war fan, and Fugaku's expression darkened. Both could feel the air tighten, the atmosphere charged with imminent violence.
Kaito's lips curled into a blade-thin smile. "The space you're in now... is my creation—Mirror Space. My dimension. My rules. No one leaves unless I will it. Not even the man who calls himself Uchiha Madara."
He let the dread build before dropping the next sentence like a bomb.
"And Sasuke… your precious little brother… is outside. Under Root's control. His fate is... pending."
Itachi's heart hammered like a war drum. He clenched his fists until blood seeped from his palms. His body screamed to move, to act—to save Sasuke—but here, in this cage of illusions, he was powerless.
"What… do you want from me?!" he shouted, voice cracking under the pressure of helplessness.
Kaito shrugged, casual and cruel. "A simple choice."
He gestured around the space like a conductor commanding an orchestra of ruin. "The half-dead Hiruzen at my feet. Danzo's corpse. The ANBU is outside this mirror. The last believers in your 'greater good.' Or… Sasuke."
He stepped closer, voice lowering to a whisper that somehow filled the entire space.
"One must die. You choose."
Itachi's teeth ground together audibly. He shook, his body taut like a bowstring on the verge of snapping. "You—!"
"You have thirty seconds," Kaito interrupted, his voice icy and mechanical. "And just to complicate things… if everyone here dies, Konoha will be left defenceless. Easy prey for the other villages. So choose wisely."
With a flick of his wrist, Kaito snapped the silence.
A flood of voices surged into the Mirror Space.
"Itachi, you bastard! You betrayed us!" one Uchiha shouted, his voice laced with venom. "You and your father deserve to burn!"
More joined in, shouting curses, spitting rage, each word a hot knife in Itachi's already-tattered soul.
But amid the chaos, some voices faltered. Some eyes—wide and conflicted—wavered in silence. Not all hated. Some feared. Some doubted.
Kaito's voice rose again, cutting clean through the storm. "Twenty seconds left. If you remain paralysed, everyone in this space and Sasuke dies."
Itachi stood frozen.
He could barely breathe.
The pressure bore down on him like a thousand tons of stone. The screams. The stakes. The truth. The fear.
Then—
"Kaito! We see it now!" a voice shouted from the clansmen.
"You should be our leader, not Fugaku!"
"Konoha betrayed us long ago! We'll follow you! Burn it to the ground if you must!"
Itachi's eyes widened in disbelief as more cheers followed.
"Konoha dared to raise a hand against the Uchiha? Kaito, we stand with you!"
But Kaito ignored them. His gaze, merciless and unblinking, remained locked on Itachi.
"Ten seconds."
Itachi trembled violently.
The jeers turned savage.
"You traitor!"
"You and your father are finished!"
"You'll pay for what you've done!"
Itachi's heart thrashed against his ribs.
Konoha or Sasuke.
Legacy or love.
Honour or blood.
"Five… four…" Kaito intoned.
The countdown wasn't just time—it was a guillotine, descending with every breath.
And still, Itachi stood silent. Paralysed by impossible weight.
The Mirror Space felt like it would collapse under the gravity of that moment.
And Kaito?
He watched with the cold, calm of a god at judgment.
The past had been unearthed.
The present had been shattered.
And the future of the Uchiha, of Konoha, of the entire shinobi world—trembled on the edge of a blade.