"Greetings, Clan Head!!"
"Clan Head, all Uchiha who could be contacted are already here!"
"In three days, we can attack Konoha at any time!"
"Clan Head! As long as we're united in purpose and strength, Konoha will fall with a snap of our fingers!"
Uchiha Clan Grounds — the central courtyard.
Hundreds of Uchiha shinobi gathered together.
Crimson eyes pierced through the darkness almost simultaneously,
even the night sky seeming to grow heavy under their gaze.
"So… it's really come to this in the end…"
Seeing the hatred and agitation burning in his clansmen's eyes, Uchiha Fugaku turned his back to them and let out a deep sigh.
In those crimson eyes—hidden from his clan—was reflected their future with cruel clarity.
Death.
Silence.
Extinction without even the chance to scream.
The once-proud Uchiha clan would vanish beneath the turning of time, becoming nothing more than a name of the past.
But—
He couldn't tell them what he had seen.
All he could do was turn away, nod slowly, and return to the ancestral shrine.
That single motion was enough to ignite the crowd.
"Great! The Clan Head has finally agreed!"
"Hahaha! I'll be a glorious guard of the future Hokage!"
"Hmph! Let's see who dares provoke the Uchiha again!"
"With the Clan Head leading us, and the eldest young master's strength, overthrowing the Hokage will be easy!"
"Wait—has anyone seen the eldest young master?"
Amid the cheers, a clan elder suddenly asked.
His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to pull the excited shinobi back to reality.
That's right—where was Uchiha Itachi?
As the clan's most famous prodigy, any uprising would naturally need someone like him at the forefront,
to carry momentum and prestige.
The clan members looked around, whispered among themselves, and searched.
Soon, the elder's eyes lit up as he pointed toward the village entrance, laughing loudly.
"The eldest young master is already at the village gate!"
"Hahaha! Looks like he's even more eager than we are!"
Rustle… rustle…
Amid the laughter, a silent figure slowly approached.
Step by step.
Crack.
A dry branch snapped underfoot, producing a sharp, grating sound.
The excited crowd gradually fell silent.
An ominous feeling began to seep into the air.
They finally realized something was wrong.
Uchiha Itachi was entering—from outside the village.
The elder sensed the unease and instinctively opened his mouth.
"Itachi, you—"
Caw—
The only response was a jet-black crow.
Thump.
Thump-thump.
Under the crow's gaze, the elder's heart began to race violently,
like a drum being struck harder and harder.
He looked up—
—and met those crimson eyes.
The three tomoe spun and morphed, forming a shape like triangular blades.
"This is—!"
The moment he recognized that pattern, the elder's expression changed instantly.
Suspicion.
Shock.
Then—ecstasy.
Like a lottery winner who'd just hit the jackpot, he leapt up, hands on his hips, laughing wildly at the sky.
"Hahahaha!"
"Hahahahaha!!"
"It's the Mangekyō!"
"Heaven truly favors the Uchiha! With the Mangekyō Sharingan, forget Konoha—we could conquer the entire shinobi world!"
His laughter spread like wildfire.
Mangekyō!!!
Upon hearing those words, the pupils of hundreds of Uchiha shrank simultaneously.
They stared, transfixed.
Thousands of crimson tomoe eyes fixed upon a single pair of Mangekyō.
Then, one after another, the clan members burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Hahahahaha!"
"HAHAHAHA!!!"
Wild laughter filled the entire Uchiha district.
At the moment they saw those eyes, it was as if they had already stormed the Hokage Tower.
Smiles of absolute immersion spread across their faces as they sank deeper and deeper.
"Handling this many people at once… is still a bit taxing."
After a while, Itachi covered his left eye, breathing lightly.
"So… enjoy yourselves a little longer."
He then raised his head and looked toward the ancestral shrine.
There, the lights burned brightly.
A lone figure was projected onto the wooden doors by the firelight.
"Father… were you waiting for me as well?"
Itachi murmured as he stepped forward.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Each footfall was soft, yet increasingly steady.
Slide.
The wooden doors opened.
Uchiha Fugaku stood directly ahead.
Beneath the shrine.
"You've come," Fugaku said calmly, as if greeting his son after a long day.
"Using the Mangekyō on such a large scale for the first time will make you dizzy."
"Come. Have some tea. It'll help."
He poured a cup of tea with a steady hand.
Unbeknownst to him, Itachi was already slightly stunned.
He hadn't expected his seemingly hesitant father to know everything.
"Father… you knew?"
"Yes."
"Then you—" Itachi trailed off, lost.
If he knew, why allow it?
Fugaku lowered his head, his face full of weariness.
"Allow what? I'm the Clan Head of the Uchiha… but I'm also your father."
"I'm old. I can no longer suppress the clan, nor can I change your resolve."
"Ending things like this… might not be so bad."
"But—"
He suddenly lifted his head, frost instantly covering his expression.
"But you must not touch Sasuke or Jin. Especially Jin— that child… is lonely."
"Otherwise, I'll let you taste the 'Seven Wolves' again!"
Thud!
Thud-thud!
"Mangekyō… so Father, you truly are—"
When Itachi saw the three tomoe arranged like Taiji symbols in Fugaku's eyes, his expression finally changed.
Bitterness.
Regret.
Nostalgia.
He could already sense it—the determination to die emanating from his father.
After a long pause, he forced a smile and shook his head.
"Don't worry, Father. I'll take good care of Sasuke and Jin."
He raised the long blade in his hand.
Slowly—
He brought it down.
Whoosh—
But just as the blade was about to slice through Fugaku's throat,
the doors of the ancestral shrine were suddenly pushed open.
From behind came a light, teasing laugh.
"Yo, righteous slaughter of your own family?"
"One-versus-seven… you really treated my words like background noise, huh."
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