At the same time, Senju Tobirama had already begun his sweeping and merciless measures.
The moment he returned to power, his orders rang through the entire village like a blade slicing through silk: Konoha would immediately enter its highest state of wartime readiness.
Within hours, every ninja clan, every active jōnin squad, and even the remnants of Root—those operatives not already stripped away with Danzō—moved with chilling precision. Konoha's vast network of silent watchers and strike teams, once dormant and spread across the Land of Fire, roared to life under Tobirama's command.
Root agents slipped into place like shadows, their movements as swift and cold as winter wind. Before dawn, every major administrative and logistical hub in the Land of Fire had been seized. The transition was not gradual; it was abrupt, overwhelming, absolute.
Even the Daimyō's Mansion, a symbol of nobility and authority for generations, could not escape the Second Hokage's iron grip.
For Tobirama, this was no coup. It was simple efficiency. The ticking clock of apocalypse had no mercy, and neither could he. Sentiment and ceremony were luxuries reserved for peacetime. Now, there was only one objective: to consolidate every resource, every decision, every ounce of manpower into Konoha's hands before catastrophe struck.
If any force obstructed that objective—even the Daimyō himself—it was no longer necessary.
The Daimyō's Mansion – Chaos in Silk and Gold
The sprawling, ornate mansion, once a sanctuary of wealth and prestige, now drowned in panic. The Twelve Guardian Ninja, once sworn shields of the Daimyō, had switched allegiance in a single, silent breath. Without warning, they seized control of every entry point, every strategic corridor, and every noble stronghold within the compound.
The Daimyō, who only hours earlier reclined comfortably in silken robes, now paced his office like a caged animal, his face pale and glistening with sweat. He alternated between barking angry curses and casting terrified glances toward the stoic Konoha shinobi stationed beyond his doors.
"Hiruzen Sarutobi… what is the meaning of this?! Is he trying to overthrow me?! Replace the Daimyō of the Land of Fire altogether?!"
His voice cracked, but no answer came. The shinobi outside stood perfectly still, faces masked, eyes unreadable. To them, the most powerful man in the Land of Fire was just another assignment.
The mansion's once-proud courtiers and ministers were reduced to trembling shadows, huddled in silence as their servants vanished and guards became jailers. The entire aristocracy of the Land of Fire found itself paralyzed by terror. For centuries, they had enjoyed privilege under the illusion of authority, never truly recognizing that the ninja they commanded were not servants, but weapons. Now, with Konoha mobilized in full force, that illusion shattered overnight.
Wealth, titles, and silk robes could not shield them from kunai pressed to their throats.
This was Tobirama's hand at work: ruthless, calculated, and unflinching.
In contrast, Hiruzen Sarutobi's Hokage administration had always sought diplomacy, cooperation, and compromise with the Daimyō's court. He had tried to rally strength without bloodshed, believing dialogue could navigate the looming apocalypse.
But Tobirama—this man forged in the blood-soaked Warring States era—had no patience for aristocratic theatrics. Nobility meant nothing to him; power and survival were the only currencies he respected.
Even during Konoha's founding, Tobirama had treated the Daimyō as a useful ally, not a superior. If not for Hashirama's idealism, Konoha could just as easily have partnered with another small country. The Daimyō's authority, Tobirama believed, had always been a political construct, not a natural order. And in this critical hour, he had no reason to kneel.
By morning, the Daimyō's private warehouses had been emptied. Years of carefully hoarded supplies—fine grains, medical herbs, rare ingredients—were stripped of their aristocratic significance and tallied coldly by Konoha operatives. What the nobles saw as priceless treasures became simple "resources" to be rationed and weaponized. Even the Daimyō's ancestral heirlooms were crated and removed under guard.
On the grounds outside, Asuma Sarutobi stood quietly, watching.
The usually easygoing Guardian Ninja now looked grim, his hand resting on the hilt of his chakra blades. He didn't yet know that this entire operation was orchestrated by his father's teacher, the resurrected Second Hokage. To Asuma, this was Hiruzen Sarutobi finally revealing his iron hand—decisive, ruthless, and unflinching.
He watched squads of Konoha shinobi moving with terrifying efficiency, escorting trembling nobles and dismantling the Daimyō's control structure piece by piece. For the first time in his life, Asuma felt… relief.
Perhaps this was how it should have always been. For years, he had bristled at Konoha's subservience to pampered aristocrats who had never stepped foot on a battlefield.
"Konoha is the strongest power in the Land of Fire… and we've been bowing to these people," he muttered under his breath. His gaze hardened on the palatial mansion now buzzing with shinobi activity. "Maybe… this is what a Hokage should truly do."
Even within Konoha's own leadership, Tobirama's actions sent ripples of unease.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, now faced with his teacher's methods, felt his long-standing ideals shaken. He had opposed such forceful measures his entire career, striving for peace over fear. Yet as he watched Tobirama's sweeping reforms bring order to chaos overnight, he couldn't help but acknowledge the truth.
What Hiruzen had lacked, Tobirama supplied without hesitation: decisiveness.
And in the shadow of impending apocalypse, hesitation was a luxury no longer afforded to them.
With the Daimyō's political authority dismantled and his wealth redistributed, Tobirama wasted no time. He immediately moved to the second phase of his operation: a total, nationwide consolidation of resources. Food, medicine, steel, chakra materials, scrolls—every ounce of power that could fuel Konoha's survival would now be seized and directed into his grand strategy for the coming storm.
Aside from the chaos that had erupted at the Daimyo's Mansion…
A similar atmosphere of upheaval was spreading across the Land of Fire.
In every province and town, orders from Konoha were being enforced with ruthless efficiency. All vital supplies—medicine, food, weapons, even basic survival materials—were seized and rerouted to fortified reserve depots built exclusively within Konoha's borders. From there, everything would be centralized, catalogued, and distributed under strict supervision.
This sudden, sweeping policy reshaped the Land of Fire overnight. Supply routes became heavily guarded. Markets emptied. Merchants and villagers whispered nervously as shinobi patrols enforced the new mandates with cold precision. A tense, suffocating unease settled over the nation, one that spread as quickly as wildfire to the ears of foreign powers.
Other great villages, ever wary of Konoha's intentions, reacted swiftly.
The first to move was Ōnoki, the Third Tsuchikage of Iwagakure.
A man tempered by decades of war, Ōnoki had seen empires rise and fall, and he was no stranger to the scent of calamity. Upon hearing reports of Konoha's sudden resource consolidation, his weathered face hardened, his mind racing. It didn't take him long to link this drastic action with the ominous prophecy that had recently swept through the shinobi world like a chilling wind.
His expression grew unusually grave as he muttered, "Could it be… that the doomsday rumors are true? If so, this is far worse than we feared."
His orders were immediate and decisive. Iwagakure entered a heightened state of war readiness. Strategic stockpiles were rapidly assembled, and scouts were dispatched to closely track every movement from the Land of Fire. The air around the Stone Village grew heavier by the day, as if bracing for an unseen hammer to fall.
Not far behind was the Hidden Cloud Village.
The Fourth Raikage, Ay, convened an emergency council within moments of receiving the intelligence. His booming voice echoed through the meeting chamber as he barked orders with trademark ferocity, his presence alone radiating raw tension.
"All shinobi, prepare for deployment! Mobilize every resource we can spare. We won't be caught off guard!"
The Land of Lightning's villages quickly fortified their borders, their forces on standby, ready to respond to any catastrophe—or act of aggression—that might erupt without warning.
Meanwhile, the Hidden Sand Village and Hidden Mist Village seemed strangely quiet.
Whether this silence was due to delayed intelligence gathering or internal conflicts preventing swift action, neither village had yet shown an open response to Konoha's escalating militarization. But that stillness was unnerving in itself. The ninja world felt like a glassy lake under a black sky, calm on the surface, yet hiding deep undercurrents of danger and unrest.
Tobirama Senju's decisive measures struck the world like a boulder hurled into that lake, sending shockwaves across every nation. The looming shadow of apocalypse was no longer just a rumor—it was becoming a reality everyone could feel but not yet see.
And while the world's attention turned warily toward the Land of Fire, danger was already gathering in another corner of the map.
At the mist-shrouded borders of the Land of Water, an ominous sight emerged:
Dozens of Konoha shinobi, clad in dark uniforms, moved with deadly silence through the marshes and forests. They were not the loyal shinobi of today's Konoha but the remnants of a darker era—Root operatives, stripped of identity, their eyes cold and empty.
At their forefront strode a figure cloaked in shadow, his presence commanding and suffocating.
Shimura Danzō had returned.