The dawn broke crimson over the Hidden Leaf. The air itself felt heavy, as if the village held its breath—caught between duty and suspicion, loyalty and fear. For weeks, Tharion had felt the tension brewing like a storm at sea. The rumors about the Uchiha were spreading faster now, laced with whispers of distrust and quiet meetings held behind closed doors. The line between caution and paranoia had grown razor-thin.
And in the middle of it all, his Genin batch was nearing the final phase of their Chūnin Exam preparation.
"Pack light," Tharion said that morning, his voice steady yet sharp. "We leave the village for five days. No comfort, no hand-holding. You'll eat what you find, build with what you can, and survive by instinct. If you can't adapt outside these walls, you won't survive inside them either."
The Genin stood at attention—five of them in total, each bearing the fresh scars and hardened expressions of Tharion's relentless training. Behind them stood his senior students—Iruka, Anko, and Guy—ready to assist but not interfere. They, too, knew this wasn't just another test.
Tharion's golden eyes scanned them briefly before turning toward the village gates. Something's coming, he thought. The pressure in the air wasn't natural—it was the silence that preceded tragedy. Even his aura reacted to it, flickering faintly with unease.
As they departed into the forests beyond Konoha, Tharion didn't just train them—he pushed them into the raw wild. No illusions, no controlled drills. They slept under the stars, hunted their food, and learned to sense chakra in the silence of night. Tharion demonstrated tracking jutsu and illusion-breaking techniques, teaching them to trust their instincts over sight.
But even while focusing on his students, his mind drifted back to the village. The image of Itachi had been burned into his memory lately—the calm prodigy often seen walking beside Danzo or standing silently outside Root facilities. It wasn't chance. It was manipulation. Tharion had seen that look before—the silent burden of someone being used for a darker purpose.
One night, as the campfire flickered and his students slept, Tharion stood at the forest's edge, eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. He could feel the tremors of unrest reaching far beyond the walls. The news of Shisui's death had reached him days before the mission—a death that was too sudden, too convenient.
He clenched his fists."Shisui Uchiha… gone right before the peace talks," he muttered under his breath. "Someone wanted that peace to die with him."
He thought of Itachi again—the quiet sorrow in his eyes, the hesitance behind every nod when Danzo spoke. The pieces were aligning, and Tharion knew exactly who was pulling the strings.
The next morning, the training resumed at dawn. The Genin were pushed into coordinated combat drills—simulated ambushes against shadow clones designed to mimic rogue shinobi. Tharion observed silently, noting their growth and mental endurance. But even then, he couldn't shake the unease in his chest.
By the third day, he called a halt."Listen carefully," Tharion said, voice carrying across the clearing. "Strength isn't just power. It's awareness. The ability to sense danger before it arrives. This world doesn't forgive those who wait for proof—it rewards those who act before the blade strikes."
The Genin nodded, exhausted but focused. Each of them understood that this lesson wasn't about survival in the forest—it was about the storm Tharion could feel brewing back home.
That night, while the group slept again, Tharion reached into his cloak and activated a small chakra seal—one connected directly to a hidden channel within Konoha's network. He used it rarely, but tonight it pulsed with warning.Static filled the faint energy field, and then—an image formed. One of his discreet watchers in the village, a hawk-eyed shinobi he trusted more than most.
"Report," Tharion said in a low tone.
"Sir… tensions are rising fast. The elders have increased Root patrols near the Uchiha compound. Danzo's been holding meetings with select ANBU. And… Itachi was seen entering his office again late last night."
Tharion's expression darkened."I see. Keep your distance. Don't engage. Just observe."
The seal flickered out, leaving him alone under the canopy of stars. He exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing toward the direction of the village.
He knew something now with certainty—the night of the Uchiha Massacre was drawing near. The signs were all there. Manipulation, isolation, whispers in the dark.
And yet, he couldn't act just yet. Not without proof, not without timing.If I move too early, he thought, Danzo will bury it deeper. But if I move too late…
He looked toward the campfire, where his students lay resting peacefully, unaware of the storm on the horizon. His hand brushed against the hilt of his blade as his golden eyes reflected the firelight.
Not this time.
The final morning of their wild training, he gathered them in a circle."When we return to the village," he said, "keep your eyes open. Not just for your opponents in the Chūnin Exams… but for the truth that others will try to hide. A shinobi's greatest weapon isn't a jutsu—it's the courage to see what others deny."
The Genin didn't fully understand his words, but the weight of them lingered as they nodded.
By the time Tharion and his team returned to the Hidden Leaf, the tension in the streets was tangible. Guards were stationed more frequently. The Uchiha compound was being watched openly. And as Tharion walked past the gate, a flicker of chakra caught his attention.
Itachi Uchiha stood at a distance, silent as a shadow, his eyes briefly meeting Tharion's. For a moment, the two warriors—one bound by duty, the other by secrecy—understood one another. Tharion saw the quiet torment, the unwilling path forced upon the young shinobi.
He's trapped, Tharion realized. And Danzo's the one tightening the chain.
Tharion standing on the Hokage Monument that night, looking down upon the sleeping village. The moonlight bathed his figure in silver, and his voice whispered to the wind—
"I've seen one world burn to ashes. I won't let another follow the same path."
As his eyes glowed faintly gold, a storm gathered behind the horizon.
The night fell heavy and quiet over the Hidden Leaf—eerily still, as if even the air itself feared to breathe. The moon hung blood-red above the village, casting long, sinister shadows across the rooftops of the Uchiha compound.
Tharion moved through the darkness, silent as death, his cloak blending seamlessly into the night. His golden eyes flickered faintly beneath the hood, each step deliberate and controlled.
He had felt it—the surge of killing intent, the unmistakable wave of despair. It's begun.
By the time he reached the outskirts of the Uchiha district, the streets were painted in crimson. The scent of iron filled the air. Lifeless forms lay sprawled across the stones—fathers, mothers, shinobi, all cut down with surgical precision.
His jaw clenched."So, it has come to this…" he muttered, voice a low growl.
He moved faster now, appearing in a blur through narrow alleys and burning rooftops. He could feel the chakra signature that led this slaughter—familiar, controlled, conflicted.
"Itachi…"
He found him at last, standing in the courtyard beneath the moonlight, blade dripping red, eyes hollow and haunted. The Mangekyō Sharingan burned in his gaze—but Tharion could see the sorrow buried within it.
The young prodigy turned, voice cold but trembling, "Leave. This is not your concern."
Tharion's hand shot forward before he could finish, two fingers striking Itachi's pressure point cleanly. His body went limp as Tharion caught him by the shoulder before he could hit the ground.
"I've seen that look before," Tharion said quietly. "It's the look of someone being forced to do the devil's work."
He placed two fingers against Itachi's forehead. A pulse of faint golden chakra surged, and both vanished in a blink—teleporting to the cave Tharion had prepared in secret days earlier.
Inside, the faint glow of barrier seals lit the rocky walls. Within its safety, dozens of sleeping children rested peacefully—every Uchiha child under the age of twelve, all put under a genjutsu-induced sleep and spirited away hours before the massacre began.
Tharion's chosen four—Kakashi, Anko, Guy, and Iruka—stood guard, their expressions grim but resolute.
"Status?" Tharion asked as he laid Itachi down against the stone wall.
Kakashi stepped forward, voice steady but heavy. "All accounted for. The seals are stable. No one knows they're here."
"Good," Tharion said softly. "Then this world still has a chance."
Before they could speak further, a deep, distorted voice echoed from the shadows beyond the cave entrance.
"So… this was your doing."
The cave trembled faintly as a masked figure stepped into view, his lone red eye glowing like a cursed ember. The black cloak patterned with crimson clouds flowed around him like smoke.
Tharion turned slowly to face him."You…" he said, his tone darkening. "You were there that night. The masked man who unleashed the Nine-Tails."
Obito's single Sharingan flared behind the mask. "You should not have interfered tonight, outsider. This night belongs to the Uchiha… to destiny."
Tharion took a step forward, eyes narrowing. "Destiny? You call the slaughter of your own kin destiny? You hide behind masks and names you don't deserve. 'Madara,' is it?"
Obito's form flickered, appearing and disappearing with his Kamui. "You know nothing of this world's pain."
"I know exactly what pain is," Tharion said, his aura flaring gold, the cave shaking with the force of his chakra. "I watched my world burn to ashes because of people like you—men who called their hatred 'justice.'"
Obito lunged, kunai spinning through the air. Tharion caught his wrist mid-motion, slamming his knee into the masked man's chest before twisting and throwing him back with a thunderous impact that cracked the stone floor.
Obito phased out, reappearing behind Tharion, blade raised. But Tharion was faster—his left hand shimmered with raw energy as he caught the blade between two fingers.
"You can't touch me," Obito snarled.
Tharion's eyes burned brighter. "Then I'll make you feel me."
In an instant, a surge of energy burst outward, disrupting Obito's space-time technique. The masked man stumbled backward, chakra flow disrupted by the golden pulse that seemed to pierce dimensions themselves.
"Wha—how?" Obito hissed, clutching his head as his Kamui glitched.
"You've seen power before," Tharion said coldly, stepping closer. "But you've never faced someone who's walked through gods."
He raised his hand and thrust it forward—a shockwave of pure kinetic force rippled through the cave, slamming Obito against the far wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across the rock as his mask fractured slightly, revealing a glimpse of his Sharingan and the twisted scar around his eye.
Tharion closed the distance, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him effortlessly. His voice was low and absolute.
"Listen to me, boy. You'll leave this village alone. You'll leave Naruto, Minato's legacy, untouched. And if you ever—ever—try to hurt another innocent again…"
His aura flared, gold lightning streaking through the cave, shaking the ground.
"I will find you. And I will erase your existence."
For the first time, Obito's bravado cracked. He could feel it—something ancient and terrifying behind Tharion's calm exterior. Not just power… divine fury.
Obito wrenched free with his Kamui, stumbling backward into the shadows. His voice echoed faintly before vanishing entirely—
"This isn't over… You can't stop what's coming…"
When the silence returned, Tharion exhaled slowly, lowering his hand. The cave walls settled again.
Kakashi stepped forward, stunned. "Who was that…?"
Tharion shook his head. "A ghost clinging to a name that isn't his. Leave him. Our priority is the children."
He looked toward Itachi, still unconscious beside the sleeping clan's heirs. The young man's face was peaceful now, freed from his Mangekyō's burden, if only for a moment.
Tharion's gaze softened. "You've done what you had to… now I'll do what I must."
As he turned toward the cave's entrance, the night outside had quieted. The massacre had ended, but the true battle had only just begun.
Above the village, the red moon began to fade into the first light of dawn.
Tharion whispered to the wind, "I've saved what I could. But this peace… it's only the eye of the storm."