"Clan Head!!"
"All Uchiha we were able to contact are here!"
"In three days—no, at any moment—we can launch the attack on Konoha!"
"Clan Head! As long as our hearts are united and our strength is focused, Konoha will fall with a snap of our fingers!"
The Uchiha compound.
The central courtyard.
Hundreds of Uchiha shinobi gathered together.
Crimson eyes flared open almost simultaneously, tearing through the darkness of the night.
Even the sky itself seemed to grow heavy under that pressure.
"So… it's really come to this after all…"
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 scarlet eyes—hidden from everyone behind him—was reflected the fate of the clan.
Death.
Silence.
Extinction without even the chance to scream.
The once-proud Uchiha, a great name of the shinobi world, would vanish into history—ground away by time itself.
But he couldn't tell them.
He could only turn away in silence, nod slowly, and return to the ancestral shrine.
That single motion instantly ignited the crowd.
"Great! The Clan Head finally agreed!"
"Hahaha! From now on I'll be a glorious Hokage guard!"
"Hmph! Let's see who dares look down on the Uchiha ever again!"
"With the Clan Head leading us—and the eldest young master's strength—we'll overthrow the Hokage with ease!"
"By the way… has anyone seen the eldest young master?"
Amid the cheers, an elder suddenly asked.
His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to make the overheated crowd gradually calm down.
That's right—where was Uchiha Itachi?
As the most renowned prodigy of the clan, any rebellion would naturally need someone like him at the vanguard.
Only then would morale reach its peak.
The clan members began searching, whispering, scanning the surroundings.
Soon, the elder's eyes lit up as he pointed toward the village entrance and laughed loudly.
"There! The eldest young master is already at the entrance!"
"Hahaha! Looks like he's even more eager than we are!"
Rustle… rustle… rustle…
Amid the laughter, a silent figure slowly approached.
Step by step.
Crack.
A dry branch was crushed underfoot, producing a sharp, jarring sound.
The excited crowd gradually fell silent.
An ominous tension seeped into the air.
They finally realized something was wrong.
Uchiha Itachi… was coming in from outside the village.
The elder sensed the danger and instinctively spoke.
"Itachi, you—"
"Caw—"
The only response was the cry of a black crow.
Thump.
Thump-thump.
Under the crow's gaze, the elder's heartbeat began to race.
Like a drum being struck—louder, heavier, faster.
He raised his head—
And met those scarlet eyes.
The three tomoe spun, morphing slowly… like triangular blades.
"This is—!"
The moment he recognized it, the elder's expression changed instantly.
Suspicion.
Shock.
Then—ecstasy.
Like a man who'd just won the lottery, he jumped up, hands on his hips, laughing wildly.
"Hahahaha!"
"Hahahahaha!!"
"It's the Mangekyō!"
"Heaven favors the Uchiha! With the Mangekyō Sharingan, forget Konoha—we could conquer the entire shinobi world!"
His laughter spread like wildfire.
Mangekyō!!!
The moment those words rang out, hundreds of Uchiha pupils shrank simultaneously.
All eyes locked onto that pair of Mangekyō.
Over a thousand crimson tomoe gazed upon two eyes of legend.
Then—one after another—clan members began laughing uncontrollably.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Hahahahaha!"
"Hhhh—!"
The laughter echoed throughout the entire Uchiha compound.
The instant they saw those eyes, they could already envision themselves storming the Hokage Tower.
Faces twisted in rapture, they sank deeper into that illusion.
"Handling this many at once is… a bit taxing."
After a moment, Itachi covered his left eye, breathing lightly.
"Then I'll let you all… enjoy yourselves a little longer."
He raised his head and looked toward the ancestral shrine.
The lights there burned bright.
Through the firelight, a single shadow was cast upon the wooden doors.
"…Father. Were you waiting for me too?"
He murmured softly and stepped forward.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Each footfall was light—yet increasingly steady.
Creaaak.
The wooden doors opened.
Uchiha Fugaku stood directly before him.
Inside the shrine.
"You're here."
Fugaku didn't seem surprised at all. Like a father welcoming his son, he gestured ahead calmly.
"Using the Mangekyō on such a large scale for the first time will make you dizzy."
"Come. Have some tea."
As he spoke, he poured a cup.
Itachi froze slightly.
He hadn't expected it.
His hesitant, indecisive father… knew everything.
"Father… you knew?"
"Yes."
"Then you—" Itachi faltered, confused.
If he knew… why allow this?
Fugaku lowered his head, his face filled with weary sorrow.
"Then what? I'm the Clan Head of the Uchiha… but I'm also your father."
"I'm old. I can't suppress the clan anymore, and I can't change your resolve."
"Ending things here… may not be so bad."
"However—"
He suddenly raised his head.
A frost-like chill spread across his face.
"You are not allowed to touch Sasuke—or Kai."
"Especially Kai. That child… is a little lonely."
"Otherwise—your father will personally let you taste the 'Seven-Wolf Belt' again."
Thud.
Thud-thud.
"Mangekyō… Father, so you really are—"
When Itachi saw the three tomoe shaped like yin-yang symbols spinning in Fugaku's eyes, his expression finally changed.
Bitterness.
Melancholy.
And a deep, aching nostalgia.
He could already sense it—
The resolve to die.
After a long silence, he forced a strained smile and shook his head.
"Don't worry, Father. I'll take good care of Sasuke… and Kai."
He raised the blade in his hand high above his head.
Slowly.
Lowered it.
Slash—
But just as the blade was about to cut across Fugaku's throat—
The doors of the ancestral shrine were suddenly pushed open.
From behind came a light, teasing laugh.
"Yo. Righteousness over blood?"
"One against seven… you really did treat my words like background noise, didn't you?"
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