A few pale rays cut through the slits of the underground cell, splashing light across damp stone. The walls shimmered faintly, but the air still smelled of rust, sweat, and despair.
This was the holding ground beneath the Konoha Alliance's compound — a vast prison built for war. Tens of thousands of captives filled it now, their silence heavier than chains.
Along the corridor stretched rows of stone chambers, each sealed by iron bars engraved with sealing runes. Ten or twenty prisoners huddled in every cell — beaten soldiers staring into nothing. The clang of dripping water echoed like a metronome for defeat.
At the far end of the hall, a slightly larger chamber held two figures — a middle-aged man and a teenage boy.
Neither spoke. Neither moved. They simply sat, waiting.
"…I can't refine chakra," the boy muttered at last, breaking the stillness.
The older man opened one eye, unimpressed. "Of course you can't. The Konoha Alliance isn't stupid. Word is, Amamiya Raizen's been dealing with the Uzumaki Clan. If that's true, they've probably sealed our chakra already."
The boy frowned, pulling his collar aside to reveal a black line around his neck — an intricate mark shaped like a tadpole, pulsing faintly.
"A sealing tag from the Uzumaki Clan…" he said bitterly. "So they really handed over their family's secrets to Konoha."
The man gave a low grunt. "If the Uzumaki are sharing their seals, then Konoha must've paid dearly for it."
The boy lowered his head. "I just hope our people are still safe."
"They will be," the man replied, tone even. "Raizen promised he wouldn't harm them. I've seen that man's eyes. He doesn't lie about war — or mercy."
The middle-aged man was none other than Sarutobi Keigo, patriarch of the Sarutobi Clan. The boy beside him — Sarutobi Sasuke, his son — would one day become the father of the Third Hokage.
But for now, both were prisoners.
Footsteps broke the quiet — a firm, rhythmic sound approaching from the dark corridor. Dozens of heads lifted in unison, eyes narrowing.
A squad of Konoha shinobi appeared, torches flickering over their flak jackets. One of them stopped before the Sarutobi cell and unlocked the bars with a sharp click.
"Patriarch Sarutobi. Amamiya-sama summons you."
Keigo stood slowly, brushing dust from his robes. Sasuke rose beside him, instinctively following. The guard didn't stop him — the order had included the boy's name.
They walked through the dungeon's corridor, shadows clinging to their faces. Even here, the air smelled faintly of earth and blood.
When they finally emerged into sunlight, both men squinted hard — months of darkness burned away by sudden warmth.
Sasuke blinked at the forest stretching beyond the gate. "So this place was hidden at the edge of Konoha…"
The guards led them through a dense thicket until the trees gave way to a clearing.
And there, sprawling before them, was the Konoha Alliance Village.
Buildings stretched in ordered rows. Merchants shouted from stalls. Children chased each other across the dirt streets. Shinobi moved in tight patrols — disciplined, purposeful.
Sasuke's eyes widened. "It's… alive. More than before."
Keigo's tone softened despite himself. "No wonder they could win against us. This isn't a clan anymore. It's a nation in miniature."
They kept walking, their footsteps echoing on the wooden bridge that led to a steep cliff overlooking the settlement.
There, others waited.
The Hyūga Patriarch, Hyūga Tennin, stood with his arms crossed, his Byakugan eyes cool but wary. Beside him — a young prodigy bearing the same sharp gaze.
Next was Hibiscus Rentarō, leader of the Hibiscus Clan, silent as stone. Every man here could shake the Land of Fire if he wished.
Now, they stood side by side — defeated lords gathered like ghosts at Konoha's doorstep.
"Looking at her from here…" a calm voice said from behind them. "…she's beautiful, isn't she?"
Amamiya Raizen approached, cloak brushing the wind. His expression was unreadable — a soldier's exhaustion masked beneath quiet pride.
He had only just woken from a brief rest. Mito had urged him to recover, but rest was a luxury for men who'd already won. Raizen needed to decide what came next — and that began here, with the conquered.
These were not ordinary captives. Each one was a pillar of their clan — powerful enough to level small armies. If he wanted peace, he couldn't cage them forever. He had to win them.
He stopped at the cliff's edge, gazing down at Konoha's rooftops glowing under the sunset.
"The Amamiya Clan wasn't always like this," he began quietly. "Once, we were weak. Forgotten. I was five when I joined Uchiha forces just to survive. That's where I learned what war really meant — blood, not glory."
Raizen paused, voice low and distant. "Back then, I thought I'd die before twenty. But I didn't. I just got angrier. And smarter."
His words cut through the wind. The other patriarchs said nothing, but their eyes flickered — recognition, maybe respect.
Raizen turned to them, the light catching the faint scar across his jaw.
"You've all seen what the world is. Clan devours clan, year after year. I'm tired of feeding the cycle. Konoha will break it — or burn with it."
The silence that followed was heavy but alive — like the moment before a battlefield erupts.