His body wouldn't move.
It was like floating in a dark void… no light, no sound, no sensation. Only his drifting soul remained.
Logan clung to the awareness that he wasn't unconscious. He repeated the mantra, his flickering consciousness gripping the last thread of willpower, so fragile yet unyielding.
'Please, don't let it end like this. There were things I still had to do.'
His mind was in tatters. In Tsukuyomi's three-day hell, he had fought against Itachi, a god in that world, enduring defeat after defeat, pain after pain. His once-strong mental energy had been whittled away like sheared wool, leaving him hollow and weak.
Yet he persisted. The exhaustion and agony of seventy-two hours converged into a flood, threatening to sweep him away. He resisted, refusing to be washed into oblivion.
The ordeal had dulled his senses. He couldn't perceive the outside world, as if teetering on the edge of sleep after countless sleepless nights. He was so tired. But he forced himself to recover, bit by bit.
Logan lay in the darkness, unsure how much time had passed. Half-asleep, half-awake, his thoughts muddled. He wanted to wake up, but his body refused.
Thud.
Then, a change.
Thud.
Another. Logan's sluggish mind recognized it, 'Vibrations.'
'Vibrations… from below? Was the ground shaking?'
Thud.
This time, stronger. The dark space cracked at the edges, letting in slivers of light and sound.
'Right.' He was lying on the ground, 'The two's battle must be shaking the rooftop.'
'Sasuke… Itachi…'
The names stirred something in him. If his consciousness were an EKG, this was the first blip after a flatline.
But it wasn't enough. He still lacked the strength. His fractured mind stitched itself together, still fragile.
Then… a tremor far more violent than before rocked the earth.
Something heavy crashed nearby. Logan suddenly felt suffocated, instinct screamed at him to move.
He managed to turn his head. Gravel scraped his cheek.
Light seeped in. Sounds reached his ears. But his shattered psyche made everything indistinct, like floating in a haze.
His vision swam with blurred colors, morphing into chaotic impressionist paintings. Sounds warped, static, crackles, pops, like a broken radio he couldn't tune.
Logan forced his eyes open. Shut them. Opened again.
Two figures clashed in the distance, locked in a loop of charge and retreat.
He strained to focus.
Boom. Boom.
Fragmented scenes flickered in his mind…
Lightning. Shuriken.
A thousand birds chirping. Flames roaring.
Clashing blades. The Sharingan's crimson glow. Black fire rising. A demonic wing plummeting from the sky…
Slowly, his vacant eyes regained focus.
Far away, two figures fought relentlessly.
'Who…?' Logan's thoughts slurred, 'Itachi and Sasuke?'
Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Sasuke… locked in battle.
Familiar faces. Familiar scenes.
The world blurred, veiled in an intangible mist. In this haze between illusion and reality, Logan's memories as an outsider tangled in confusion.
'Why are they fighting again?'
'The original manga. The anime. Wasn't this how the story went?'
For a moment, he couldn't tell if he was watching a show or witnessing reality.
At high school, sitting at his desk, sunlight streaming through the window as he watched the epic clash on screen… excited, heart pounding.
He knew this arc by heart. The Kirin. Susano'o. The brothers' final battle. The colors and sounds matched perfectly… unchanged.
'Unchanged.'
'Sasuke was so naive. So pitiful. Playing the cool, collected avenger, yet when Itachi finally smiled and collapsed before him, that stunned expression. What turmoil had raged beneath?'
'And Itachi is too good at acting. Why play the flawless older brother? Stern, ruthless, only revealing the truth at the very end.'
Boom.
A deafening impact shattered the memory. Rocks pelted Logan's body. Pain flared.
His thoughts lurched. He turned his head slightly. Fingers twitched.
Voices overlapped in his mind. Itachi had walked this lonely path, convinced Sasuke would become the man he envisioned, strong, righteous, if only he followed the script…
The rocks dug into his back. His head throbbed.
'Something felt wrong.'
Light and sound sharpened. His senses clawed free from the fog.
The 'story' reached its climax.
"Forgive me, Sasuke… This is the last time."
Boom!
A pillar of fire erupted skyward, piercing the clouds. Steam condensed, forming a rolling thunderhead. Lightning snaked across the heavens, its rumble shaking the earth.
Logan jolted awake.
Clarity struck like dawn breaking through storm clouds. Mind, body, and spirit realigned.
"This is…"
He clutched his pounding head. Though agony lanced through him, he could finally see.
Dust coated his body. The ground was ravaged, not a single tile intact. Half the building had collapsed. By sheer luck, he'd been spared burial.
"I was hit by Tsukuyomi, so now…"
His head snapped up.
The wind howled. Dark clouds churned overhead.
"Uchiha Itachi… This technique was made for you."
Sasuke stood wreathed in lightning, his cursed wings reduced to charred stumps. His gaze was ice as he faced his brother.
Itachi remained still.
With Logan out of the picture, their battle had finally followed its destined course… clashing, wounding, unleashing years of hatred. Now, both stood at their limits, battered and bleeding.
"May you repent for your sins in hell."
Sasuke raised his hand. The storm answered.
Lightning coiled within the clouds, a monstrous force of nature awaiting his call.
This was the final move. Both brothers knew it.
All regrets, all bonds, they would end here.
Yet neither noticed the figure stirring in the ruins behind them.