Uchiha Shion stood poised, blade in hand, then suddenly blurred into motion. In an instant, a dozen Shions appeared, encircling Obito like a living ring of shadows.
Obito's hands flashed through seals. "Release!"
But all of the Shions spoke at once, their voices overlapping:
"Pointless. My Shunshin Technique isn't a simple illusion. Strengthened by the Mangekyō's ocular power, ordinary releases are useless against it…"
Obito's face twisted in fury. From behind him, a long blade whistled toward his back—but he caught the attacker's wrist in a crushing grip.
Kamui!
The vortex of distorted space opened again, trying to draw Shion in. But Obito's expression soured instantly.
Not a body!
No—the feeling in his hand, the wrist he held, was undeniably solid.
CLANG! A long blade was caught by his iron chain.SMASH! A kick crashed in, only to be blocked by his forearm.
Every strike from the circling Shions carried real weight, real substance. Yet Obito's Wood Release attacks passed straight through their bodies.
It was nearly identical to his own intangibility. Unless he could find the true body, failure was inevitable.
Pulling back, Obito found himself still surrounded on all sides. Shion's sharp gaze fixed on him.
"I'll admit it," Shion said evenly. "Even with all the information we had, you still managed to bring us to this stalemate. That arrogance of yours is not without reason."
The boy who had once been the Uchiha's hopeless tail ender—the one who foolishly believed that eye drops and an eye patch could hasten the awakening of the Sharingan—had grown into something monstrous.
"Do you think you've won already?!" Obito snarled. "If not for Kakashi—if not for that bastard Kakashi—!"
Kamui!
The space-time vortex tore open again. Six of the Shion-clones closest to him were dragged violently into the real world. From beneath Obito's mask, blood trickled from his eye.
Even with Hashirama's cells sustaining him, the strain was too much. His body couldn't keep up with the Mangekyō's consumption.
"Pathetic, futile struggling!"
Shion's words were calm, almost pitying. Flame rippled suddenly across his blade as new corporeal clones flickered into existence.
SHING!
The flaming edge slashed toward masked Obito. With Shion's speed, every strike fell in the deadliest possible place.
Kamui!!
Obito's voice cracked into a hysterical roar. Space-time vortexes bloomed wildly, straining to defend him while desperately probing for Shion's true body.
Shion's voice cut through the chaos.
"Pointless. Each clone both is and isn't real. Every attack strikes with true force. With the Mangekyō's power behind it, this illusion has no weakness—for you, there is no escape."
BOOM!
At last, the flames died away. The vortices ceased. Obito collapsed to his knees, gasping raggedly for breath, the branches of his Wood Release wilting back into stillness.
Shion too was exhausted, his chakra spent heavily. He had not strained himself as much as Obito, who had overused his Mangekyō recklessly—but the influence of Hashirama's cells could not be ignored.
"…Why don't you finish me?" Obito's voice rasped from beneath the mask, confusion lacing his tone.
"Your life is not mine to take," Shion replied. "The Uchiha's situation grows more desperate by the day. After tonight… we are fortunate. Fortunate that the enemy was stopped, and fortunate that I, a son of Uchiha, was the one to do it."
He felt relief unlike anything he had ever known. His victory here meant not only survival, but that the Uchiha clan had shown its loyalty. His name carried weight; his actions reflected the clan's stance. And outside, Captain Fugaku stood with the Fourth—another signal of cooperation.
But Obito laughed, bitter and hollow. "Heh… you think you've guessed something? You'll regret this."
Shion only shook his head slightly, ignoring the taunt. "To prevent your escape, I'll need to take away your ability… for now."
SHUNK!
With a flicker, Shion's hand darted forward. In one brutal motion, he gouged the right eye from beneath Obito's mask.
"AAAHHH!!"
Obito's scream tore through the space.
At that moment, Kakashi staggered over, his strength barely restored. "I can manage one more Kamui… Shall we go back?"
Shion glanced at him. When the mask finally came off, he had no idea what shock awaited this heir of the White Fang.
"Let's go. Lord Fourth is waiting."
Kakashi pulled up his forehead protector. The Mangekyō swirled to life, a vortex blooming in the air. In a surge of warped space, the three of them left Kamui's dimension behind.
On the cliffside above the valley, one of Obito's White Zetsu clones held a telescope, watching as the group emerged from the cave below.
Back at the true hideout, the sealed Nine-Tails' chakra began leaking once more, its cold, malevolent aura staining the air.
In the distance, Minato's expression tightened. Nearby, the captive Obito lifted his hollow eyes toward them.
"The Nine-Tails… So you really were guarding it. But who? Who fed you information about me?"
Even facing Shion and the Fourth, Obito had never believed he could lose. That nearly invincible illusion technique—if not for being dragged into Kamui's separate dimension, its chakra flow severed—he would have broken free.
But…
But his left eye—Kamui's long-range eye—was the natural counter to his own right.
Kakashi!!
Kakashi's scalp prickled. He felt Obito's single glaring socket burning through the mask, fixing on him with killing intent.
Why me? Kakashi thought sourly. Shion's the one who beat you, the Fourth's the one restraining you, and Fugaku's guarding outside—why glare at me?!
"Fugaku," Minato said calmly, "you and your men take him to the Police Force. Set barriers and seals. He may not be working alone."
As Minato turned to leave, Shion quickly called out: "Lord Hokage, this is his Mangekyō."
He held up a glass tube. Inside floated a lone Sharingan eye, its tomoe fused into a haunting pattern that seemed to draw the soul into its depths.
Minato glanced at Fugaku's tense expression, then smiled gently. "The Sharingan is the Uchiha clan's bloodline. Naturally, this Mangekyō belongs to them."
Fugaku exhaled with relief. He hadn't coveted the power for himself—but if Konoha had claimed another Mangekyō outside the Uchiha, the hawkish hardliners in the clan would have exploded in outrage.
"Very well," Minato said. "Thank you all for tonight. And—please keep these events confidential. I leave it to your discretion."
The group—Shion, Kakashi, Fugaku, and the two medical kunoichi—nodded in solemn agreement.
Flying Thunder God!
In a flash, Minato vanished. Shion stared absently at the glass tube in his hand, then tucked it away. Together, they began escorting the bound Obito back toward the Uchiha compound.
Though utterly drained, Kakashi still found the strength to mutter, "Shion… aren't you curious which Uchiha he is? Why not take off the mask?"
Shion exhaled slowly, meeting Kakashi's dead-fish gaze. "Lord Fourth ordered us not to remove it until he returned. So… I don't know either."
Obito trudged silently, avoiding Kakashi's eyes. Broken, disgraced, he felt like nothing more than a beaten dog.
"Three… two… one!"
High on the cliff, White Zetsu's clone whispered the count—and vanished.
In that same instant, a figure appeared beside the escort team.
SWISH!SPLAT!
Blood sprayed. Obito's right arm—shoulder and all—was severed cleanly in a single stroke.