---
The lab was silent except for the scratching of ink against parchment. Candlelight flickered against stone walls, throwing shadows over shelves lined with scrolls, jars, and preserved organs.
On the central table, several glass containers gleamed faintly. Floating within them—eyes. The scarlet Sharingan spun faintly in the liquid, three tomoe circling lazily like predators waiting to strike.
Kirito stood over them, his expression unreadable.
"Beautiful… and terrifying."
---
Organizing the Harvest
He had been cautious, storing everything after the massacre, but weeks later it was time to sort through his gains.
Nine Uchiha bodies.
One Mangekyō Sharingan.
Dozens of three-tomoe, two-tomoe, and immature eyes.
Scrolls filled with the clan's history of genjutsu, battle records, and stolen secrets.
Each item was carefully labeled, sealed, and catalogued by his clones. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and chakra-soaked ink.
But collecting was the easy part. The true test was understanding.
---
Kirito created three clones. Each one was assigned to study a different aspect:
Clone One carefully dissected an Uchiha body, tracing chakra pathways, comparing them to medical diagrams.
Clone Two examined Sharingan under different chakra infusions—tiny pulses of fire-nature, wind-nature, even neutral chakra.
Clone Three studied fuinjutsu scrolls, attempting to create seals that could preserve eyes and suppress their chakra signature.
The first attempts were crude. The eyes clouded. Chakra burned them out. Some seals backfired, exploding into black smoke.
But slowly, patterns began to emerge.
---
After days of repeated failure, Clone Three succeeded. A circle of interlocking spirals glowed faintly on the glass of one jar, stabilizing the chakra within the Sharingan. The eye inside remained fresh, its tomoe sharp and vivid.
Kirito leaned closer, a rare smile tugging at his lips.
"With this… they won't decay. Even Danzo can't boast such perfect preservation."
He sealed every Sharingan in similar jars, the glow of seals filling the lab like a constellation of red stars.
--
Yet Kirito's ambitions didn't stop there.
What if he could harness the Sharingan without transplanting it? Could he create an artificial connection, a channel of chakra to tap into its abilities safely?
One night, he bound a single Sharingan into a carved wooden mask, sealing it with chakra-conducting ink. When he placed the mask over his face and pushed chakra into it—
The eye snapped open.
For a heartbeat, the world sharpened. He saw the faint flicker of chakra lines in the walls, the subtle shift of air currents from a moving clone.
Then pain stabbed through his head. The mask shattered, the eye sealing over in smoke.
Kirito staggered, blood dripping from his nose.
"Not yet… but close."
---
Hidden Resolve
He cleaned the remains, burned the failed seal, and returned to his notes. The experiment was dangerous, but it proved one thing: the Sharingan's power could be accessed without full transplantation.
He just needed stronger seals. More control. More knowledge.
As dawn light crept into the Forest of Death, Kirito finally allowed himself to rest.
He had no illusions—one wrong step, and he would be consumed by the very power he sought to control.
But as he looked at the jars of preserved eyes glowing faintly in the dark, his voice was steady.
"This is the path I chose. I'll master these secrets, even if the world burns for it."
---