Land of Fire.
Konoha.
In the outskirts near the former Uchiha compound, Danzo stood silently under the stars, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed at the quiet night.
This was his domain now—or so he believed. Three years in confinement had changed him, but not in the way the village might have hoped. While Konoha thought Danzo's influence had waned, he himself felt differently. The loss of physical prowess was undeniable, but his mind... he believed it sharper than ever.
> "My will has only grown firmer."
"Who else could manipulate the clouds of fate and stir the rain of power so effortlessly?"
His lips curled slightly.
> "I leveraged Uchiha Shisui. I threatened Uchiha Itachi with his brother."
"Everything… under control."
From a distance, a figure approached slowly.
Danzo's eyes narrowed with confidence. He thinks he's changed.
But Itachi Uchiha, as he neared, looked at Danzo with undisguised contempt.
> "He thinks he's matured over these three years?" Itachi mused. "Pathetic."
Danzo hadn't evolved. If anything, he'd regressed. His influence in Root had crumbled; his power stripped away by Tsunade and the Guard. Were it not for Shisui's occasional pity, Danzo would be starving.
No one in the new Konoha wanted him. Not the clans. Not the Council. Especially not the Hokage.
> "You still believe in schemes, but the world has passed you by," Itachi thought.
Tsunade had reshaped the village with sincere reforms. From infrastructure to clan relations, she had revitalized morale and bridged divides that once festered under the Third. Roads had expanded, commerce flourished, and ninja rights improved. Unlike Sarutobi, Tsunade sought not power but true stability.
Only the Uchiha remained cautious of her reign—but that was no longer Itachi's burden. The Guard, led by Bai Ye, kept everything in order. Sasuke was safe. The clan was stable.
> "With the captain here, Konoha doesn't need shadows like Danzo anymore."
He couldn't help but feel pride swell in his chest.
> "Captain... even your idle days are orchestrated moves. You've already outpaced us all."
Itachi felt no more hesitation. The fog of doubt from years past had lifted. Sasuke had Bai Ye. His mother had her own resolve. All he had to do now… was follow through.
He had made his decision.
He would infiltrate the organization behind the masked man—the one some whispered was "Uchiha Madara." He'd investigate, confirm, and become Konoha's dagger in the dark. He owed that much to Bai Ye.
Then, beneath a waning moon—fractured ever since that battle in the sky—the man arrived.
That familiar mocking tone cut through the quiet.
Seven parts arrogance. Two parts disdain. One part detachment.
> "Long time no see, Itachi."
The voice came from behind.
Itachi's Sharingan spun slightly, calm but alert.
This was the same masked man who'd confronted him during that mission three years ago—the one who claimed to be Madara.
> "Are you really… Uchiha Madara?" Itachi asked, his tone unreadable.
Back then, Itachi had been too weak to resist. He watched helplessly as the masked man slaughtered his comrades under the pretense of helping him "awaken" his eyes.
A warped lesson: pain creates power.
Now, the same man phased through his body casually—Kamui. Classic Obito.
He always did this. During his meetings with Nagato and Konan, during his infiltration of Akatsuki—this intangible intimidation was his signature.
Obito stepped through Itachi, then turned and smirked under his mask.
> "As you can see, the world is false…"
He was about to launch into one of his Madara-style speeches when he noticed something off.
Itachi's body was trembling.
His Sharingan was spinning—wildly, unnaturally.
The composure was gone. His mouth quivered, lips moving incoherently.
> "What's wrong with you?"
Obito stepped back slightly, his Kamui deactivated for the moment.
Danzo, equally confused, frowned.
> "What did you do to him?"
"I didn't do anything…" Obito muttered. But a creeping unease grew in his heart.
Just this morning, Black Zetsu had warned him.
> "Don't go to Konoha. You'll regret it."
But this was the suburbs—Bai Ye wouldn't care about this place.
Right?
Still… something felt wrong.
Itachi was muttering now. Obito leaned closer.
> "Ride… Ride Rin… Everyone… Ride Rin…"
Obito froze.
> "What did he just say…?"
> "Ignite flame into the air… draw thunder unto oneself…"
Itachi's body suddenly surged with unnatural chakra.
His fingers curled. His head tilted unnaturally. Eyes bloodshot, teeth gritted.
> "The name… of this art… is Qilin."
For a moment, time itself seemed to stutter.
Obito reeled back, mind racing, blood pounding.
> "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?"
He couldn't believe his ears.
> "BEAST! SAY IT AGAIN! WHO ARE YOU RIDING!?"
A maddened Obito swung his war fan—Uchiha's Gunbai—at Itachi's head.
Danzo attempted to intervene, but the surge of chakra forced him back instantly.
> "Something's wrong… This isn't normal…"
The sky darkened instantly.
Flames crackled across the sky as clouds twisted unnaturally. Thunder roared, summoned as if by will alone.
And in the eye of the storm… Itachi stood with a twisted grin, arms raised to the sky.
The air distorted.
Reality bent.
This was no ordinary Qilin.
This was Bai Ye's version.
Itachi had been placed under an illusion so deep, so layered, that even Obito's Sharingan couldn't perceive it in time.
Enhanced Qilin—a deadly illusion-induced jutsu, perfected by Bai Ye and planted days ago.
It was triggered the moment Obito let his guard down.
Too late now.
Thunder screamed from the sky as fire shot upward like spears.
Itachi's voice—no longer his own—roared out:
> "The name of the art… is QILIN!"
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