"We are the Uchiha," Hiko's voice resonated through the courtyard, carried by a sudden, chilling wind. "The masters of the Eye. We do not beg for space in a village our ancestors built. We take it."
He looked at Fugaku. "Patriarch, it is time to discuss the 'Doves.' This faction is a cancer of cowardice. They don't seek peace; they seek a comfortable cage. They have traded our dignity for a quiet life, and in doing so, they have made us targets."
Raising prestige was only the first step. To unify the Uchiha, Hiko had to cut away the rot. The Doves—the smallest, weakest, and most submissive faction—were the perfect target for his first surgical strike. Unlike the Hardliners, who at least had the spine to suggest a coup, the Doves offered nothing but bowed heads and apologies.
"Patriarch, we second the proposal!" the Third Team shouted in unison.
Fugaku watched his former "troublemakers" standing in perfect, disciplined formation behind Hiko. It was a terrifying transformation. These men used to be thorns in his side; now, they were a polished blade in Hiko's hand.
Reluctantly, Fugaku nodded. "Send for the Elders. We meet in the inner sanctum."
As the clan gathered, Shisui stood alone under the shade of a maple tree. His silhouette was a portrait of isolation. His own squad members lingered several meters away, afraid that his "stink of failure" would rub off on them.
Shisui had wanted to solve the conflict with kindness. He had followed the Will of Fire to its logical conclusion, only to find that it left him standing against his own blood. In the eyes of the Uchiha, Shisui wasn't a hero anymore—he was a liability.
While Shisui was being cursed in the streets, Hiko was being heralded as a savior. It was a simple calculation for the average clansmen: Shisui let them be spat on; Hiko gave them a raise and their pride back.
Inside the Patriarch's courtyard, the air was stifling. The Elders sat in their usual positions, but the atmosphere had shifted. Hiko was no longer a junior officer being "allowed" to speak; he was the center of gravity.
"I knew this boy was a firebrand," the Sixth Elder hissed, his face red with indignation. "First he questions the Patriarch, then he drags us to the Hokage's office, and now he wants to dismantle the family factions? Does he even see us as his seniors?"
The Great Elder chuckled, leaning back. "He sees you just fine, Sixth. He just doesn't think you're worth looking at. Personally? I like the boy. He has a taste for reality."
"How dare you—"
The Sixth Elder's outburst was cut short as Fugaku and Hiko entered. This was a private meeting—no captains, no guards. Only the high-level decision-makers and the man who had forced them there.
As Hiko took his seat, the Sixth Elder couldn't contain his spite. He stood, pointing a gnarled finger. "Uchiha Hiko! By what right do you sit among your betters? Who gave a mere brat the qualification to breathe the same air as the Clan Council?"
The Hardline Elders smirked, waiting to see how Hiko would talk his way out of this one. Fugaku remained silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
Hiko didn't use words.
He turned his head slowly toward the Sixth Elder. His eyes, usually a calm obsidian, suddenly bled into a vivid, predatory crimson. The three tomoe of his Sharingan spun with a sickening, high-speed whine.
"Ugh—!"
The Sixth Elder froze. The roar he was about to unleash turned into a choked gasp. To the others in the room, it looked like the Elder had simply forgotten how to speak.
In the Elder's mind, the world had just turned into a nightmare of blood and shadow. He saw the ceiling of the hall dripping with black oil, and Hiko's eyes grew until they were two moons of red fire, crushing his soul. He began to claw at his own throat, gasping for air as if he were drowning in dry land.
"Ignorant fool," Hiko said, his voice cold and flat, cutting through the Elder's whimpering. "Who gave you the courage to yell at me?"
The other Elders sat in stunned silence. Hiko hadn't just used Genjutsu; he had used a level of spiritual pressure that shouldn't be possible for a standard Three-Tomoe.
Over the last six months, Hiko had fused the spiritual fragments of Indra's chakra and the experience he had copied from Shisui's own mastery. To an old, frail man like the Sixth Elder, Hiko's gaze wasn't just an illusion—it was a death sentence.
Hiko let the Elder collapse back onto his mat, shivering and covered in cold sweat.
"The status of 'Elder' is a privilege given to those who provide wisdom," Hiko said, looking at the rest of the Council. "Not a shield for those who have grown old and useless. Now, shall we discuss the future of this clan, or do you wish to continue discussing my 'qualifications'?"