The underground was always cold, but tonight it bit deeper.
The wind howled above the cracked earth, brushing through the hollow remnants of Konoha like a ghost mourning its past. Stone streets lay buried under soot. Ruined shrines were nothing more than hollow shells. But beneath it all—under the soil and rot—secrets still waited.
And I wasn't alone in seeking them.
---
Rikuro was an old scavenger who haunted the forgotten places of the empire. He once worked in the Land of Iron's chakra engineering corps, but those days were long gone. Now he made a living whispering secrets and selling scraps.
I found him last week outside the Fire Capital, tucked in the corner of a ruined warehouse, surrounded by rusted blades and half-working scroll seals.
"This came from deep," he had said, slipping a folded, charred scroll into my hand. "Marked with ROOT insignia. Unclaimed. Dangerous. Thought you'd like that."
I didn't ask how he got it. I never asked Rikuro anything I wasn't ready to bury in my grave.
---
Now I crouched near a hidden ridge just beyond the old Senju compound, following the trail marked on the map.
It led to a crumbling well, its stone mouth sealed by layers of moss and chakra erosion. I pressed my palm to the old wood lid and whispered the sequence: a mimicry seal designed to respond to chakra frequency. The map had included a cipher, and I'd spent days replicating the needed pattern.
The wood clicked.
A dull hum vibrated through the stone, and the lid cracked open.
I slipped in quietly, sealing it behind me.
---
The tunnel was narrow, carved by hand, and reinforced with old ANBU supports—stamped with Danzo's mark. I stepped over a long-dead skeleton still dressed in half-rotted black armor. Whoever they were, they'd died trying to seal this place.
The air smelled of damp earth and old chakra residue.
My fingers traced the walls, reading seal tags embedded in the stone—chakra inhibitors, psychological dampeners, memory suppressors. ROOT had made this place a tomb of the mind as much as a prison.
After ten minutes of crawling, I reached a hidden hatch. It slid open with a metallic groan, revealing a sub-level room lined with old data scrolls, broken chakra cores, and stasis tanks filled with clouded fluid.
I stepped inside.
This… this was no laboratory.
It was a slaughterhouse for secrets.
---
In one corner, scrolls contained detailed experiments—how ROOT had dissected Kekkei Genkai, tried to replicate them through artificial means. Many failed. Some succeeded in horrifying ways.
I found a tank labeled "Subject 17 – Uchiha template." Inside, a skeletal form floated limply. Its Sharingan had been gouged out long ago. But the notes… the notes held something worth stealing.
A formula.
Not for implanting a bloodline.
But for triggering one.
It was possible—barely—to awaken dormant genetic potential using high-purity chakra infusion and genetic seal overlays.
I grinned, the flicker of madness dancing behind my breath.
"If I can't be born with power," I murmured, "I'll build it with my hands."
---
As I copied the scrolls and collected samples into a reinforced chakra scroll, a low thrum echoed through the air.
I froze.
Chakra detection seals.
But not mine.
These were live.
I killed the lights instantly, hunkering behind a damaged tank. Footsteps echoed above. Not many—two, maybe three—but precise.
Not looters.
Enforcers.
Naruto's patrols rarely came this deep, but when they did, it meant someone talked.
Maybe Rikuro. Maybe not.
Didn't matter now.
I clutched a smoke tag in my palm, another in my mouth, ready to trigger.
The hatch creaked.
A gloved hand reached in—
And stopped.
Then... silence.
Minutes passed like hours.
I didn't move.
Eventually, they left. I waited another ten before I climbed out, sealing the room behind me with a new trap tag of my own design—chakra seal rot. If they returned, they'd lose their ability to mold chakra for hours.
Enough time to vanish.
---
Back in my safe house, I unrolled the data. Charts. Theories. Rituals. Techniques beyond ethics. ROOT had been ruthless—but they had been brilliant.
And now their brilliance belonged to me.
---
Outside, fireworks cracked in the night sky over the capital. A parade. An imperial announcement.
Naruto's son had just been made Commander of the Sky Division. The youngest to ever hold the title.
People cheered.
They always did.
For many, life was better now. Safer. No wars. Merchants thrived. Families rebuilt. Crime dropped in major cities. Even orphans got food—registered, monitored, but fed.
And still... I hated it.
Because that peace was built on ash.
On my sister's bones.
My father's blood.
My mother's silence.
And the cheers outside?
They were for the man who did it.
---
I stared at the notes again, muttering softly, "Let the world think I'm small… harmless… loyal."
I smiled and pressed a heated seal to the scroll.
A new mark etched itself beside my name.
Phase One: Infiltrate.
Let the empire welcome me.
So I could rot it from within.
---