Uchiha Itachi's gaze instantly regained its composure. He turned to face Kakashi, who was clad in his white cat ANBU mask, and reported in a steady tone.
"Kakashi-senpai, all surveillance feeds currently show normal activity. Uchiha Izumi returned to the compound at 21:30. She appeared slightly fatigued, but there were no abnormal chakra fluctuations. The movements of the rest of the clansmen remain consistent with their usual routines."
He deliberately omitted his speculations regarding the cause of Izumi's exhaustion, sticking strictly to the objective facts.
Kakashi nodded, asking no further questions. He seemed long accustomed to such reports. Standing up, he patted Itachi's shoulder and spoke in a low voice.
"Stay vigilant. Do not overlook even the slightest disturbance. This village... it needs us to protect it."
"Understood," Itachi replied with a concise nod, watching as Kakashi's silhouette vanished from the room.
While the ANBU monitoring room was typically manned by a two-man cell, Kakashi's naturally lethargic personality meant he couldn't bear sitting in this cramped space all night. Moreover, since the Hokage trusted Itachi enough to grant him access to the surveillance hub, Kakashi was more than happy to give the young Uchiha some solitary time.
Once the heavy door clicked shut, Itachi turned his gaze back to the shifting screens. The night was deep, and the village remained in a peaceful slumber—yet before his eyes, the very air seemed thick with the invisible scent of gunpowder.
Meanwhile, within the Uchiha Compound.
Soft moonlight spilled over the ancient eaves of the Uchiha estate, lending a touch of serenity to this usually rigid district.
Uchiha Hikari and Menma stood atop a roof, watching as Uchiha Izumi—freshly emerged from the 'Infinite Loop of the Clan Massacre Night'—walked into the compound. She looked utterly drained, moving like a startled fawn, fearful that Uchiha Itachi might suddenly leap out from the shadows with a blood-stained blade.
"Come to think of it, the Patriarch's family of this era should be quite interesting, right?"
Hikari's voice was languid, laced with a hint of amusement. She tilted her head toward the figure beside her—Menma, draped in a black cloak that fluttered in the breeze, his face hidden behind a white, three-eyed fox mask.
Her eyes shimmered with a restless spark—the quintessential Uchiha thirst for power and challenge.
"Oh?" Menma let out a light, playful chuckle. "You want to pay them a 'visit'?"
"Of course," Hikari answered without a second thought. Her tone was casual, as if she were planning to drop by a neighbor's house rather than the manor of the strongest clan's leader in Konoha.
She knew Menma never turned down such 'unexpected diversions.' Besides, she was genuinely curious about this era—curious about these clansmen who shared her name and blood but lived on a completely different timeline.
She wanted to see how this man named Fugaku had raised a son like the 'Clan-Slayer Itachi,' and how he had led the Uchiha toward their ultimate demise.
"As you wish," Menma replied laconically. For him, anything that stirred the stagnant waters of the shinobi world and introduced more variables was a welcome sight.
In a flash, the two figures merged into the night like ghosts. In the next heartbeat, they appeared deep within the compound, standing in the courtyard of Uchiha Fugaku's residence.
The lights of the manor were still on. A warm glow filtered through the paper sliding doors, outlining a cozy domestic scene within.
The door creaked open from the inside.
"It's so late, who could it be..."
A gentle female voice drifted out. Uchiha Mikoto appeared, dressed in a simple home kimono with a kind smile on her face. She had assumed it was a late-returning shinobi from the clan coming to visit.
When she saw the two figures standing outside, her smile froze.
One was a cloaked figure in a three-eyed fox mask; the other was a young girl with clear, striking features and a transcendent aura.
Mikoto was all too familiar with that mask. In her husband's study, there was a high-priority bounty poster for 'Shura.'
"Pardon the late intrusion," Hikari said. Her voice was cool, yet carried a polite edge of apology.
As the wife of the Uchiha Patriarch, Mikoto possessed a formidable mental fortitude. She was a kunoichi herself—a former Jonin of Konoha. Though she had been retired for years to raise her children, her instincts screamed that the two individuals before her possessed unfathomable power.
Yet, they seemed to harbor no immediate ill will. Mikoto didn't feel the suffocating sense of crisis one would find on a battlefield.
"You're here for Fugaku, I assume? He's in the living room." She sighed softly and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.
The young Uchiha Sasuke poked his head out from the living room, his large dark eyes filled with curiosity as he studied the uninvited guests.
"Mama, who is it?" Sasuke's voice was high and innocent.
"They're guests, Sasuke. Go back to your room for now," Mikoto replied with a smile. After seeing Sasuke off, she led Menma and Hikari into the lounge.
Inside, Uchiha Fugaku sat at the head of the room, reviewing a clan scroll.
He had already sensed the movement outside. When he looked up and saw the two figures following Mikoto—specifically 'Shura' in that white mask—an ominous premonition surged in his heart.
Shura!
This guy!
He had just attacked the Hyuga clan a few days ago, and now he was appearing in the village again? And so boldly entering the Patriarch's private residence?!
Fugaku could hardly mask his shock. His gaze then shifted sharply to the young girl.
He was stunned to see the Uchiha crest emblazoned on her clothing. Even the style of her attire bore the distinct characteristics of the Uchiha lineage.
As their eyes met, Fugaku instinctively activated his Mangekyo Sharingan.
However, in the very next second, the girl's eyes underwent a sudden transformation. Within those pitch-black pupils, the three tomoe spun violently, their shapes connecting to form three curved blades blooming around her pupils!
The Mangekyo Sharingan!
"How is this possible?!" Fugaku's pupils constricted.
In an instant, he was dragged into Hikari's 'Tsukuyomi World.'
"You! Who exactly are you?!" Fugaku shouted as the space around him warped. He unleashed his own ocular power in a desperate attempt to resist.
It was a pure clash of visual prowess—silent, invisible, yet soul-shaking.
Hikari's dreamscape flickered with a slight distortion, but it stabilized almost instantly. Fugaku, on the other hand, felt his vision blur as blood seeped from his eyes. He stumbled back, collapsing onto the floor.
"Are you... the one Shisui spoke of?!"
Fugaku panted, feeling the girl's ocular power crash over him like a tidal wave, utterly suppressing his own Mangekyo. He suddenly remembered the mysterious enemy Shisui had encountered in the Land of Stars six months ago.
Slowly, Fugaku's consciousness was swallowed by a vast, boundless darkness.
When he finally opened his eyes again, he was drenched in a cold sweat.
Shura and the mysterious girl were already seated comfortably. His wife, Mikoto, was calmly pouring tea for them.
"What's wrong, Fugaku?" Mikoto noticed her husband's pale complexion and asked with concern. Sasuke, playing with a toy nearby, also looked over curiously.
Fugaku's breathing was heavy, and his eyes throbbed with a stinging pain. With just a single glance, he had been completely overwhelmed.
If the girl had truly harbored killing intent, he wouldn't be looking at Mikoto and Sasuke right now. That crushing pressure... for a moment, he felt as though he were staring at the shadow of Uchiha Madara himself.
"Who are you?" Fugaku's gaze locked onto the girl, then onto Shura, who was leisurely holding a teacup.
He was certain that no such person existed in the current generation of the Uchiha.
"Well, based on seniority..."
Uchiha Hikari began to count on her fingers, ticking off the generations.
"You should probably call me your great... great... great... great... grandmother."
Three hundred years of time. Fifteen generations of separation. A seniority that stacked into infinity.