The next day dawned beneath an ominous sky, where gray clouds drifted like specters of fate, hanging heavy above the Hidden Leaf Village.
A silent storm seemed to brood overhead, as if the heavens themselves sensed the weight of what was about to unfold.
Around the Hokage Building, the scene had transformed into that of a military fortress—every corner and corridor secured, every window under surveillance.
Elite ANBU members stood like silent statues, stationed at key positions throughout the compound.
Their blank masks gave no hint of thought or emotion, but their presence exuded a clear warning: today was not a day to trifle with Konoha.
Indra Uchiha observed from afar, standing at a distance, concealed behind thick layers of tree branches.
He leaned against the trunk of a tall, sturdy tree, arms folded across his chest.
His eyes, gleaming with cold amusement, tracked the movement of every ANBU member and civilian alike. The faintest smirk curled his lips upward.
"The fallen pieces... they're finally crawling back into position," he murmured under his breath, voice laced with quiet satisfaction.
Elsewhere, the tension was no lighter. A procession of Hyuga clan members steadily approached the heavily guarded Hokage Tower.
At the front walked Hyuga Hiashi and his twin brother Hizashi.
Their footsteps echoed with the heaviness of fate. Following closely behind them were the Hyuga elders—venerable figures draped in traditional robes, their expressions unreadable and cold.
Hiashi's face was solemn, his eyes dimmed by sorrow and resignation.
Hizashi kept his gaze low, the looming weight of death pressing firmly upon his shoulders.
Their silence was a language of its own—a silent acceptance of the cruel reality that awaited them.
The elders from the main family walked like they were carved from stone, their faces betraying no emotions.
Yet beneath their stoic exteriors simmered a different emotion altogether—satisfaction. They knew of the whispers echoing in the shadows of the Hyuga compound.
Whispers of the branch family's unrest. Whispers of Hizashi being seen as a leader among them.
A leader who could unify the lower-ranked members of the clan.
The potential of a rebellion was growing. If left unchecked, the main family feared they might lose control.
Yes, they had the Caged Bird Seal—a technique that guaranteed obedience—but a rebellion would mean the loss of their servants, their labor force, their comfort.
What good were slaves if they chose death over service?
And so, the elders quietly rejoiced when the matter of sacrifice was raised. It was the perfect solution. Let Hizashi die in the name of honor.
Let his death be draped in words like "duty" and "patriotism." The village elders would admire their loyalty. Their status would soar.
Meanwhile, the branch family would be thrown into disarray, without their hopeful leader. It was a chess move cloaked in righteousness.
Hizashi, though silent, was fully aware. As the Hokage building loomed closer, he could feel every step pushing him toward the abyss.
Thoughts of his son, Neji, clawed at his heart. A son with limitless potential, who still believed in the justice of the clan and the merit of hard work.
"Let fate take its course," Hizashi thought bitterly. "I only hope Neji never follows in my footsteps."
The group was welcomed with formal nods by the stationed guards and were quickly ushered inside. The air inside the Hokage's office was tense and oppressively formal.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, stood at the center of it all—an aged man trying desperately to maintain the illusion of control.
But rather than appearing as a commander of the village, he looked more like a servant in a high-end restaurant, bustling to please ungrateful customers.
He adjusted his robes, nodded respectfully to everyone, and ensured tea was served to the Cloud envoys first.
The act did not go unnoticed by Hiashi. His fists clenched tightly inside his sleeves.
Disgust began to bubble in his chest. He had once respected the Hokage. But today? Today he felt only contempt.
Across the room, the Cloud envoy sat with an unbearable smugness plastered across his face.
His eyes gleamed with victorious malice, clearly reveling in the drama unfolding before him.
He rose slowly from his seat and walked over to Hizashi.
"So this is the one you're offering up?" he asked with a condescending tone.
Hizashi took a step forward and lowered his head. The cursed seal on his forehead glowed faintly, ready to be activated. The room fell into an eerie silence.
No one spoke. No one dared to.
Moments later, the order was given.
The cursed seal ignited.
An invisible force wrapped itself around Hizashi's head. His body convulsed violently. His hands clutched at his skull as if trying to rip the pain out.
His eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened in a silent scream as the seal pulsed with lethal chakra.
The nerves in his brain throbbed and burst one after another.
Hiashi looked away, but the damage was done.
He had seen it. The pain in his brother's eyes.
When the light faded, Hizashi's body fell forward like a puppet whose strings had been severed. Lifeless. Cold. Final.
Hiashi's breathing quickened. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Tears welled in his eyes. He fought them back, forcing composure through sheer will, but a few escaped. He wiped them quickly.
The Hyuga elders remained still. Unfeeling. Silent observers of a necessary sacrifice.
The Cloud envoy stepped forward again, pulling out a sealing scroll.
"We'll be taking the body now," he said, voice flat.
He began the sealing process but paused halfway. Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out a small, slightly wrinkled photograph.
It showed a tall blonde kunoichi with calm eyes.
"Have you seen this woman?" he asked, turning the photo to Hiashi.
Hiashi narrowed his eyes. The image was unfamiliar.
"No. There was no female corpse among the attackers," he replied coldly.
The envoy studied his expression carefully, then gave a faint nod.
"Understood."
He completed the sealing of Hizashi's body into the scroll. Without further ceremony, he turned and left the room, followed by his guards.
The Hokage offered a strained nod but nothing more. No apology. No honor. Just silence.
The last thing Hiashi saw before turning to leave was the scroll vanishing into the Cloud envoy's cloak—as if his brother's entire existence had been folded away into nothing.
As the Cloud envoy and his guards exited the Hokage building, silence followed them like a shadow.
They walked in tight formation toward the village gates, carrying with them the sealed scroll that now held the lifeless body of Hizashi Hyuga.
The scroll bobbed slightly with each step, a silent mockery of what had been taken.
Outside the gates, standing atop a tree trunk with one leg casually dangling and arms crossed, was Indra Uchiha.
The wind caught the ends of his cloak, making them flutter like wings of a waiting predator.
His crimson eyes observed everything with eerie calm, as though he were both orchestrator and audience of the play unfolding below.
The Cloud envoy caught sight of him.
Instantly, he froze.
His legs trembled, heart pounding. Cold sweat soaked the back of his neck. That smirk. That gaze. He remembered it all.
He remembered the moonlit massacre.
The night when Indra had appeared out of nowhere and butchered his comrades like insects.
The man who had moved like a ghost and killed with a smile. The man who had spared only him—for a reason far worse than death.
Captured later by a lunatic named Toru Uchiha, he had been dragged into the abyss.
Toru had used his Sharingan to trap him in endless illusions, torturing his mind, warping his sense of time and space, and reducing him to a shell of what he once was.
ZaAnd at the center of every illusion, every hallucinated scream, was Indra's laughter—cold, cruel, unforgettable.
Indra leapt lightly from the tree and landed with the grace of a falling feather. He strolled toward the envoy with deliberate calm.
The envoy fell to his knees.
Indra sat down on a bench nearby, resting his chin on his hand as if waiting for a servant to speak.
"Still breathing, are you?" Indra said, voice smooth and taunting.
The envoy gritted his teeth.
"You can kill me if you want, but I will never betray my village!" he snapped, though the fear in his voice betrayed the strength of his words.
Indra chuckled.
"Ah, that undying loyalty again. It's charming, really," he mused. "But what about your sister?"
The envoy's eyes widened.
Indra leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"Samui, wasn't it? Tall, strong, blonde... very fine figure. I'd say... exquisite."
The envoy's face turned ghostly pale. His breath caught in his throat.
Indra smiled wider.
"What do you want?" the envoy asked, defeated.
"You're going back to the Hokage's office," Indra said, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "You will demand that they hand over Hiashi Hyuga as compensation. Tell them Raikage is furious. Threaten war. Apply every ounce of pressure you can."
The envoy looked stunned.
"They'll never accept that," he said.
Indra stood slowly, taking a few calculated steps closer.
"Oh, but they will. That old fool Hiruzen is a coward. Just wave the banner of war. He'll kneel like he always does."
The envoy hesitated.
Indra tilted his head.
"And if you disobey, or whisper a word of this to anyone," he said calmly, "I'll make sure your beloved sister Samui becomes my personal... guest."
The words were soft, but they hit like iron.
The envoy trembled violently. He lowered his head.
"I... understand," he whispered.
Without another word, he disappeared into the trees, heading toward the Land of Lightning.
Indra watched him vanish.
Then he turned away, smirking.
"A new fish has been caught," he murmured. "Time to taste it."
His tongue traced his lower lip.
Then he vanished into the shadows.
End of Chapter 26
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