On the night the Uchiha clan was exterminated, blood soaked the earth from end to end.
A child only seven years old watched with his own eyes as his parents were slaughtered. In that instant, a crimson glow flared to life within his pupils…
Yet before the tomoe within his eyes could complete their transformation, a shinobi blade pierced straight through his chest.
"To awaken your eyes at a time like this… what terrible luck," the masked Uchiha Obito muttered with a sigh. Bending down, he calmly dug out the boy's Sharingan.
The child's face—caught between frantic excitement and utter despair—paired with those hollow, empty eye sockets, created a sight so eerie it sent chills down the spine.
But scenes like this were nothing more than the tip of the iceberg in this world.
Uchiha Obito continued his massacre. Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the compound, a so-called "filial son" raised his blade toward his own parents.
Neither Uchiha Obito nor Uchiha Itachi noticed something amiss.
Obito failed to realize that among the Sharingan he had taken, one pair was conspicuously missing.
And Itachi never noticed that within the clan he believed to have been wiped out completely… there was one more survivor.
After a long while, the Uchiha compound finally fell silent.
Only when a child's agonized scream echoed through the ruins did the Root and ANBU operatives—already lurking nearby—arrive to clean up the aftermath.
"…Hokage-sama, the Uchiha clan… has been completely annihilated. There are only two survivors. Both are children."
An ANBU shinobi appeared beside Sarutobi Hiruzen and delivered his report.
A flicker of shock passed through Hiruzen's grief-stricken eyes. In the next second, he issued his order without hesitation.
"Immediately dispatch the medical team. Their safety must be guaranteed."
"Yes, sir!"
After giving his instructions, Sarutobi Hiruzen turned away, as though unable to bear witnessing the scene any longer.
Not far ahead, Shimura Danzō was already waiting for him.
"Hiruzen… there's an extra survivor," Danzō said darkly. This time, his harvest had been far from satisfactory—most of the Sharingan had already been taken by someone else.
"That's enough. This ends here," Hiruzen said coldly. "I don't want to see any more killing. To survive something like this… perhaps that itself is fate."
For once, Sarutobi Hiruzen displayed an unmistakable edge of authority, cutting off Danzō before he could say anything further.
Danzō fell silent.
A man reeking of bloodlust had arrived.
So Danzō retreated into the shadows.
"Itachi… you've done well," Hiruzen said softly, sorrow etched across his face as he looked at Uchiha Itachi.
"By doing this, you prevented a civil war in Konoha. Even now… I can't help but regret that we couldn't find another way."
"I'm sorry," Itachi said, lowering his head.
"The one who should apologize is me," Hiruzen replied.
"From today onward, you will be branded a rogue ninja who slaughtered his own clan. You will be placed on the bingo book—dead or alive. Do you have any requests?"
"I've found someone who calls himself Akatsuki," Itachi answered calmly.
"From now on, I'll follow him… to make sure he doesn't break his promise."
Meanwhile...
…My eyes… hurt.
Am I… dead?
Are the images in my mind memories—or a dream?
In a vast, silent room, a child lying on a hospital bed suddenly snapped his eyes open.
Within those eyes, strange and ominous patterns gleamed clearly, as if radiating an ill-fated premonition.
"This is… transmigration? Or a dream?"
Uchiha Shunichi stared at his small, unfamiliar hands, his mind completely blank.
It took quite some time before he finally steadied himself. He pressed a hand against his chest, then touched his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.
Looking around, he saw no one—except for another child of similar age lying in the bed beside his.
Uchiha… slaughter…
This body had survived the night of the Uchiha clan's annihilation.
Which meant only one thing.
This world… was the world of Naruto.
The pain in his eyes intensified rapidly. Shunichi had no choice but to shut them tightly as two streams of bloody tears slid down his face.
His body weakened instantly, drained of all strength.
So I transmigrated—only to die immediately because my talent is too strong?
How absurd.
As sensation faded from his body, two ocular techniques suddenly surfaced in Shunichi's mind.
Regression.
Foresight.
Clutching at salvation like a drowning man grabbing driftwood, Shunichi immediately activated the dōjutsu in his right eye
Regression.
In an instant, his body returned to its previous state.
He touched his eyes. The tears on his face were gone.
Shunichi opened his eyes again, attempting to forcibly suppress and deactivate the Mangekyō Sharingan.
He failed.
As time passed, the pain worsened. Blood continued to spill from his eyes, soaking the bedsheets crimson.
His mood sank lower and lower.
In the end, Shunichi was completely unable to revert the Mangekyō back into an ordinary Sharingan.
It was as though these eyes didn't belong to him at all.
"Regression!"
Activating the right eye once more, Shunichi returned to his prior state yet again.
All chakra expenditure was restored.
All Mangekyō ocular power was fully recovered.
When he opened his eyes, there was no blood on the bed. None on his body.
At last, Shunichi understood the nature of his dōjutsu.
Just because it appeared costless didn't mean it truly was.
The price might be his soul.
His lifespan.
Or something far more unknown and terrifying.
With that thought, Shunichi immediately closed his eyes and lay still, relying on his other senses to perceive the world around him.
The room remained silent.
As he sifted through the memories in his mind, his consciousness gradually slipped away once more.
This time, the slumber lasted far longer.
More than a full month.
During that time, Shunichi regained awareness several times—only to lose consciousness again, completely beyond his control.
When he finally awoke, a nurse was standing beside him, tending to him with meticulous care.
"I… where am I?"
His voice was hoarse.
Thanks to his left eye, he could clearly sense the passage of time—and everything that had happened to him.
"You're awake. You've been unconscious for over a month," the nurse said gently.
"How does your body feel?"
Her voice was soft.
But fear surged violently within Shunichi's heart.
During that past month…
It was this very woman—who looked so kind and gentle—who had dissected his body more than ten times.
Who had removed his eyes for research.
And then restored his body back to its original state.
Calm down.
I must stay calm.
Because of my dōjutsu, I can't die—but I absolutely can't escape either.
Stay calm.
Shunichi clenched his fists, forcibly suppressing the hatred boiling within him.
Then, a sudden thought struck him.
He looked up and asked..
"The Uchiha clan… what's happened to them?"