Land of Fire – Konohagakure, One Week After the Summit
The forest on the outskirts of Konoha was silent, but for Adult Sasuke Uchiha, it screamed with dissonance. The air itself felt different here—thick with a history both familiar and terrifyingly alien. Beside him, Boruto fidgeted, the reality of their situation settling in with the weight of a mountain.
Boruto: "A whole year… Dad's gonna kill me. Mom's definitely gonna kill me. And Himawari… she'll just give me that look."
Sasuke: "Focus, Boruto. Our survival and mission depend on understanding this timeline. The deviations are… catastrophic."
Boruto: "Catastrophic? They seem pretty good! I mean, Kumo's all advanced, Uncle Gaara's the Kazekage already, and the creepy old guy Danzo is in jail! That's awesome!"
Sasuke's Rinnegan pulsed as he processed the sheer volume of anomalous data. "It is not 'awesome.' It is a fundamental rewriting of causality. Danzo's crimes being public, his arrest… in our history, that truth died with him, festering in the dark for decades. Here, it's been ripped into the light. The political, social, and psychological ramifications are incalculable."
His mind, trained for strategic analysis and burdened with the knowledge of a darker past, recoiled at the implications. The public fall of Danzo Shimura wasn't just justice; it was a detonation at the foundation of Konoha's identity. The Will of Fire had been exposed as a flame fed on innocent kindling.
Sasuke: "We need information. Not rumors. Hard data. Konoha's archives, or what's left of them, will be in chaos. That is our point of entry."
Using his mastery of stealth and genjutsu, perfected over a lifetime of covert operations, Sasuke infiltrated the Hokage Tower. It was both easier and harder than expected. Security was tighter, more paranoid, but also fragmented, reeling from the internal purge. The ANBU were ghosts haunting their own hallways.
He found what he sought not in the main archive, but in a newly established, heavily secured annex labelled "Truth and Reconciliation Council – Restricted Access." The seal work was good, a blend of old Konoha and… something else. Uzumaki-derived, but sharper, more efficient. His work, Sasuke thought grimly. Indra's influence.
His Rinnegan and his own profound skill with Fuinjutsu allowed him to bypass the seals without tripping alarms. What he and Boruto found inside, illuminated by the cool light of a glow-stick, was a curated hell.
Row upon row of filing cabinets, data scrolls, and evidence lockers. Photographs. Medical reports. Confession transcripts. It was a museum of institutional evil.
Boruto: "Whoa… this is…"
Sasuke: "Quiet. Observe. Record everything."
He moved with lethal grace, his Sharingan and Rinnegan capturing every document, every image. Boruto, pale-faced, used a compact camera device from their timeline—a silent, high-resolution tool—to photograph stacks of files Sasuke pointed to.
They started with the summarized indices. The sheer scale was vomitous.
File A-1: Uzushiogakure – Strategic Betrayal.
Contents: Danzo's coded messages to Iwa, Kiri, and Kumo brokers. Maps of seal-based defenses were provided by him. Orders are delaying Konoha's relief forces. Post-action reports on "acquired Uzumaki genetic material."
Sasuke's hand, his real one, trembled slightly. The Uzumaki were his wife's ancestors, Naruto's bloodline. Their destruction was the foundational tragedy that led to Kushina's isolation, to Naruto's suffering. In his world, it was a historical tragedy. Here, it was a premeditated murder, with Konoha's hand on the knife.
File S-1: Senju Clan – Systematic Attrition.
Contents: Lists of Senju who chose civilian lives. Next to each name: a date of death and a cause—"bandit attack," "illness," "training accident." Cross-referenced with mission logs showing nearby ROOT activity. Requisition forms for Hashirama Senju's tissue, signed by Danzo and a councilor, Sasuke didn't recognize. A chilling memo: "The 'Will of Fire' is a diffuse, dangerous ideology. The Senju embodiment of it must be gently pruned to allow for a stronger, more disciplined tree."
"Gently pruned." The Senju, the clan of the First Hokage, the literal progenitors of Konoha's philosophy, were hunted to extinction not by war, but by bureaucratic malice. Tsunade's entire tragic life—her flight, her gambling, her despair—took on a new, horrifying clarity.
File U-1: Uchiha Clan – Manufactured Rebellion & Massacre.
This was the one that stopped Sasuke's breath. It wasn't one file. It was a dossier three inches thick.
Contents:
Psychological profiles of Uchiha members, highlighting grievances, with Danzo's annotations: "Exploit this." "Inflame here."
Transcripts of ROOT agents, posing as Uchiha, advocating for a coup in clan meetings.
Fabricated evidence of weapon caches, created by ROOT and "discovered" by loyalist shinobi.
The sealed order to Itachi Uchiha, presented as an ultimatum from the Hokage and Council: "Eliminate the clan to prevent civil war. Your brother will be spared. This is your duty as a Konoha shinobi." It was signed with the Hokage's seal… and countersigned by Danzo.
Financial records showing payments to the cleaning crew that disposed of the bodies.
A sub-folder: "Ocular Acquisition." Inventory logs. Ten regular Sharingan. One Mangekyō—Shisui Uchiha. Notes on compatibility tests. A diagram of Danzo's right arm, with sockets for ten eyes.
Sasuke leaned against a cabinet, the cold metal seeping through his cloak. The rage was a familiar fire, but it was now directed with surgical precision. In his timeline, he had hated Konoha, then Itachi, then the world itself. His vengeance had been a blind, consuming storm. Here, the target was clear, vile, and already in a cage. But the horror was magnified a thousandfold by the clinical detail. This wasn't a tragic necessity. It was a project. A successful project.
Boruto: "Uncle Sasuke… your hand…"
Sasuke looked down. Purple Amaterasu flames were licking silently at his prosthetic wrist, his emotional control fraying. He took a shuddering breath, quelling the flames. "Keep recording."
They found files on Sakumo Hatake. On the orchestrated smear campaign. On the "Ame Orphans" and the manipulation of their rebellion. And finally, the crown jewel of damnation: the evidence linking Danzo to Obito Uchiha, detailing the provision of Kushina's birthing location, leading to the Nine-Tails Attack.
Boruto's face was ashen. "He… he set up Grandpa Minato and Grandma Kushina? Did he cause the attack that destroyed the village? That… that made Dad…"
"An orphan. Yes." Sasuke's voice was gravelly. "In our world, we blamed a faceless enemy, a mystery. Here, the enemy had a name and an office in the heart of the village."
The final file they opened was a casualty summary. Estimates of the direct and indirect deaths caused by Danzo's operations span forty years. The number made even Sasuke's battle-hardened soul flinch.
Total Estimated Lives Extinguished: 8,430+
Breakdown:
Uzushiogakure & Uzumaki Diaspora: 2,100
Senju Clan "Attrition": 380
Uchiha Clan Massacre: 560
Human Experimentation Subjects: 1,243 (confirmed)
Konoha Shinobi & Allies eliminated as "threats": 1,540
Civilians in staged incidents, collateral damage: 2,607
Children (under 12) across all categories: 1,892
The number for children was circled in red ink, with a note in Tsunade's handwriting: "For this alone, there is no hell deep enough."
Boruto had to turn away, gripping his stomach. "A thousand… almost two thousand kids…?"
Sasuke didn't answer. He methodically stored the last of the photographic data. The camera's memory was nearly full. This was not just evidence for their mission; this was a truth he had to take home. Naruto needed to see this. The entire Konoha of their timeline needed to see what festered in its shadow and, perhaps, still did.
As they prepared to leave, Sasuke's senses pricked. His Rinnegan caught a residual chakra signature in the room—faint, ancient, woody, and utterly malicious. It was a signature he knew from his final battle with Kaguya, from the ruins of the God Tree. White Zetsu. Or rather, the progenitor of them all. He had been here recently. Reading, learning. The enemy knows the enemy's crimes, Sasuke thought, a new layer of dread forming. This changes their calculus, too.
The Uchiha Compound – That Night
Drawn by a pain both alien and intimately familiar, Sasuke found himself standing at the edge of the Uchiha district. In his timeline, it was a rebuilt, integrated neighborhood. Here, it was a ghost town, preserved as a memorial. The silence was a physical pressure.
He saw a figure—young, clad in dark blue, with the Uchiha fan on his back—standing before a section of the memorial wall. Young Sasuke. His face, even from a distance, was not the pure hatred Sasuke remembered from that age. It was… resolved. Grief-stricken, yes, but with a steely focus that had taken him years and a war to achieve.
He watched as his younger self placed a single, white flower at the base of the wall, bowed his head for a long moment, then turned and walked away, his posture straight, his path purposeful. Not the slouch of a vengeful wraith, but the stride of a shinobi with a mission.
Once he was gone, Sasuke emerged from the shadows. He approached the wall. It was covered in names, hundreds of them, etched in stone. He found his parents: Fugaku Uchiha. Mikoto Uchiha. His own name was not there. A small mercy.
But then his eyes fell on a separate, smaller section, set slightly apart. A subtitle read: "The Innocents – Lost Before Their Time."
It was a list of children. Dozens of names. Ages listed beside them: 10, 8, 5, 2… His breath hitched. At the very bottom, a name was etched with particularly fine, careful script.
"Uchiha Naota. Age: 1 month. Survived the Night. Perished in subsequent 'medical complications.'"
A newborn. A baby who had lived through the massacre, only to be killed afterward. By whom? Sickness? Or… "medical complications" orchestrated by Danzo's agents to tie up loose ends?
In his timeline, he had never seen this. He had been consumed by the grand, monolithic crime. The specific, individual murders—especially of the infants—had been erased, first by Danzo's cover-up, then by Pain's assault, which had flattened much of the old district. He had avenged a clan. He had never grieved for a one-month-old named Naota.
A cold, precise fury settled in his heart, different from the inferno of his youth. This was a fury that could plan. This was a fury that could appreciate the justice already served here, while mourning all that was lost.
Boruto: (Whispering from behind him) "Uncle Sasuke… are you okay?"
Sasuke: "No. But I am clear. This timeline, for all its horrors exposed, has done one thing ours did not. It gave names to the shadows. It is… cleaner, in its agony."
He took a picture of the infant's name. For himself. For the memory he never had.
One Week Later
Disguised as wandering metalworkers from the Land of Rivers—a cover that explained Sasuke's prosthetic and Boruto's tool gauntlet—they crossed the border into the Land of Lightning. The change was immediate and staggering.
Boruto: "Whoa… the roads!"
The paths were not dirt or rough stone. They were paved with a smooth, dark, resilient material that absorbed sound and seemed to self-clean. Chakra-powered lanterns on elegant poles lit the way even during the day, emitting a soft, white glow. The air was clearer, the scent of industry present but not polluted.
They passed farms. But these were not simple fields. They were geometric marvels of terraced agriculture, with irrigation channels that glowed faintly blue—chakra-infused water. The crops themselves shimmered with health, the grains fat and golden, fruits impossibly large and vibrant.
Sasuke: "The chakra-seeds. He didn't just improve yield. He redefined botany."The villages they passed through were prosperous. People wore well-made clothes, moved with purpose, and the constant, low-grade anxiety of the shinobi world seemed muted here. There were posters on public boards: diagrams for basic chakra-control exercises for civilians, schedules for free medical check-ups at mobile "Healing Pod" stations, advertisements for jobs in "Uzumaki-Zeoticus Mercantile" or the "Stormworks Engineering Guild."
It was a nation not just at peace, but actively being improved, systematized, and elevated. It felt alien. In their timeline, even in the era of lasting peace, there were still ragged edges, areas of poverty, and the lingering scars of war. Here, it felt like someone had taken a blueprint for a perfect society and was methodically assembling it.
Then they saw it. On the main highway, a convoy approached from the opposite direction. At its centre was a vehicle that looked like it belonged in one of Katasuke's more optimistic future-tech presentations.
Sleek, matte-grey, utterly silent, it glided a foot above the road surface on a cushion of crackling blue energy. Its windows were tinted, but the symbol on the side was clear: the personal crest of the Lightning Daimyo, Enmaru Saito.
Boruto: "No way! Is that a car? But it's floating! And it's not making any noise! What's powering it? Where's the exhaust?"
Sasuke's Rinnegan analysed it instantly. "A complex chakra reactor. Seals for stability and propulsion. The chassis is a single-piece alloy… stronger than standard steel. It's a masterpiece of applied Fuinjutsu and materials science. This… did not exist in our history. At all."
The "Raijin-1" and its diplomatic impact were now a tangible reality before them. It wasn't just a tool; it was a symbol of a technological gap that was now a chasm. As it passed, samurai on horseback flanked it, but they looked almost archaic next to the silent, gliding vehicle.
They learned more from talk in taverns and from public bulletins:
The Village-Wide Barrier: Described as an "Emotion-Sensor Grid." People spoke of it with pride, not fear. A theft or assault in Kumo was now nearly impossible.
The Healing Pods: Miraculous. Limb regeneration was spoken of as a fact of life. Mortality from injuries had plummeted.
Gravity Training Chambers: The reason Kumo's newer genin had such insane physical stats.
Project Thunderhead: This was the most guarded topic, but whispers spoke of "eagles that see for hundreds of miles" and "mountains that walk to guard our borders."
Every invention traced back to one source: Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha, the Lake Maker.
Boruto: "He's like… Lord Katasuke, but a thousand times smarter, and he actually finishes his projects! And he's a shinobi! A super-strong one!"
Sasuke: "He's more than that. He's a cultural engineer. He hasn't just given them tools; he's given them a new identity. 'The Village of Innovation.' 'The Storm that Protects.' He's rewritten their national myth."
They also observed the Uzumaki presence. Crimson hair was common. Businesses bore the name "Uzumaki." They saw a hospital wing being inaugurated—the "Venelana Uzumaki Memorial Wing." They passed a lavish hotel chain—"Zeoticus Grand." The Uzumaki weren't hidden or scattered; they were a vibrant, powerful, integrated pillar of Kumo society. A stark contrast to the lonely, ostracized boy Naruto had been, or the scattered remnants Sasuke knew of.
The sheer, concentrated normalcy of Uzumaki life here was a quiet knife to Sasuke's heart. This was what Naruto should have had. A clan. A legacy. A place.
Kumogakure – The Foot of the Mountain
They didn't dare enter the village itself. The Barrier's description made it clear that ntrusion was suicide. But from a high, distant ridge, using telescopic lenses and Sasuke's enhanced vision, they observed.
The village was a breathtaking blend of ancient mountain fortresses and sleek, modern structures. Waterfalls cascaded into catchments that glowed with purification seals. Transport gliders zipped silently between peaks. And in the sky, high, high above, they saw them.
Not birds. Eagles. But of a size and bearing that defied nature. One, with feathers like polished bronze, circled at an altitude that would freeze and suffocate any normal creature. Its eyes, even from miles away, seemed to sweep the landscape with intelligent, predatory focus.
Sasuke: "The Eagle Clan…"
A memory, long buried, surfaced. After he had killed Orochimaru, during his wanderings to gain power, he had sought out the last known summoning contracts. He had come across a cryptic, ancient scroll in one of Orochimaru's lesser hideouts, written in a pre-Shinobi script. It had mentioned clans that predated the Sage, allies from the "time of the Raging Seed." He had consulted the White Snake Sage, who had been old and grudging.
"The Eagle King, Garuda, and the Elephant Lord, Airavat," the sage had hissed. "Arrogant, primordial fools. They did not fight for the Sage; they fought because the Ten-Tails' chaos threatened their own orderly realms. They are not summoned to be controlled, boy. They are sovereigns who choose allies. And they have not chosen a mortal in ten thousand years. If you ever sense their power… walk away. Even my former self dared not approach them."
At the time, Sasuke had dismissed it as a ythological rumor. Now, seeing the evidence in the sky, feeling the ancient, vast chakra rolling off the eagle in distant waves, he understood. Indra hadn't just found a summoning scroll. He had allied with beings who saw the Ten-Tails as a nuisance. Beings whose power was in a league with the full-grown Tailed Beasts, perhaps beyond.
And if the eagles were here… the elephants were somewhere, hidden, a walking cataclysm waiting to be deployed.
Boruto: "The chakra from that thing… it's like… It's not like a tailed beast. It's… older? Sharper?"
Sasuke: "It is primordial. It comes from a time before chakra was split, before ninjutsu. It is pure, untamed nature given form and supreme intelligence." He paused, the final piece clicking. "The Snake Sage warned me. She said they could fight the Ten-Tails. Not just fight it… make it retreat."
The implications were earth-shattering. The Akatsuki's entire plan revolved around reforming the Ten-Tails as an unstoppable weapon. But in this timeline, there existed a known counter. A force that had already beaten it back, allied with the very village housing two of the beasts they needed.
No wonder the Akatsuki here were cautious. No wonder Pain spoke of Kumo as a "conditional" threat. They weren't just facing a strong village. They were facing a village backed by the original anti-ten-tailed-beast weapon system.
In their hidden camp, Sasuke pieced it all together, the data from Konoha and the observations from Lightning forming a terrifying, awe-inspiring picture.
Sasuke: "The divergence point is clear. Indra Uzumaki-Uchiha. A hybrid of two clans that were systematically destroyed in our timeline. He survived. He was taken in by Kumo. And he did not merely seek power for vengeance. He used his genius—a genius that feels… augmented, preternatural—to build."
He listed it off, his voice low.
"1. Political: He exposed Konoha's rot, crippling their moral authority and forcing reform from without.
Economic: He made Lightning self-sufficient and rich, shifting global power balances. Military: He integrated primordial summon clans into a national defense grid, creating a deterrent of legendary scale. Social: He restored the Uzumaki as a proud, powerful clan, giving them a home and purpose. Medical/Technological: He revolutionized the quality of life and shinobi capability. Personal Power: He possesses the Mangekyō Sharingan, but his chakra… when I felt it during that fight, Boruto… it was not just Uchiha potent. It was Uzumaki-deep. And there was something else layered beneath, something vast and structured. His total reserves, combined with that girl Rias, who is nearly his equal… they rival Naruto at his peak, with Kurama's full cooperation."
Boruto: "So… he's like, the perfect shinobi? But for Kumo?"
Sasuke: "He is beyond a 'perfect shinobi.' He is a sovereign architect. He is what a Kage should be, but with the power, vision, and tools to realize that vision completely. He hasn't just strengthened Kumo; he has elevated it into a new category of political entity. A fortress-state. A utopian citadel."
He thought of the fight again. The dance. "His bond with the Uzumaki girl, Rias… it is the emotional core of it. It is not a distraction; it is his foundation. In our world, bonds were often sources of pain later leveraged for power. For him, the bond is the power. It is synergistic. It makes them more than the sum of their parts. That is something…" He trailed off, the image of the young, determined Sasuke at the memorial flashing in his mind. "…that my younger self here is learning from him. He is not being taught just techniques like Blue Flare. He is being shown a different path. A path of justice, not revenge. Of building, not just destroying."
The weight of it settled on him. This timeline had its horrors—the detailed, explicit records of Danzo's evil were somehow worse than the vague, monstrous shadow he'd grown up with. But it also had this: a corrective force. A brilliant, powerful, morally grounded (if fiercely loyal to his own) counterbalance that had emerged from the very bloodlines the darkness tried to erase.
Boruto: "What do we do, Uncle Sasuke? This is all huge, but… Urashiki. We have to find him."
Sasuke: "Urashiki will be drawn to power. To tailed beasts. TTo a nique chakra. He will come here, to the Land of Lightning, eventually. The concentration of power—two jinchuriki, the primordial summons, Indra himself—is a beacon. Our best chance to find him is to observe Kumo's periphery and wait. And while we wait, we learn."
He looked at Boruto, his expression severe. "This timeline is a living lesson. It shows what could have been if genius had been paired with protection instead of persecution. It shows the horrific cost of unchecked shadow. And it shows…" He hesitated. "…it shows a version of partnership I did not think possible in our world of shinobi. We will observe. We will prepare. And when the time comes to confront Urashiki, we may need to make a choice: remain hidden, or seek an alliance with the most dangerous and capable man in this world."
Boruto: "You mean… talk to Indra?"
Sasuke: "The thought is fraught with risk. We are temporal anomalies. Our knowledge could be destructive. But he is a problem-solver on a cosmic scale. And Urashiki is a cosmic-scale pest." He stood, looking out towards the towering peaks of Kumo, shrouded in storm clouds. "For now, we watch. The storm is not just coming, Boruto. It has already formed, and it is building its kingdom. We are insects on its windowpane, trying to see inside before we are swept away."
As night fell over the Land of Lightning, two ghosts from a shattered future kept their vigil, their minds reeling from the past's explicit horrors and the future's unimaginable promise, all centered on the enigma of the young man who had become the lake maker, the storm monarch, the architect of a new age.
End of chapter – 41.