Chapter 15 (Refined)
"You've made your choice," Kaito said, gaze locking onto Danzo and his Root operatives. "Now face the consequence."
Obito vanished into thin air. Kaito saw it, but let him go. Chasing a man still protected by Izanagi was a waste of breath.
"You always coveted the Uchiha's power," Kaito continued, voice cold as drawn steel. "Let me show you what it looks like."
He stepped forward, not with rage, but with certainty.
"All your stolen eyes. All your twisted experiments. And still, you never understood this power. You only mimicked it."
Behind him, something stirred.
Susanoo began to shift.
Not growing, but evolving—its skeletal form expanding with surgical precision. Golden light surged through it, not as a glow, but a pulse, like breath. Like life.
Bones rose like towers. Muscles of chakra layered over them. A face emerged not screaming, not snarling, but eerily still. Watching.
Then came the change no one expected.
Runes.
Not symbols for show, but seals—etched with purpose, humming with ancient energy. They webbed through the construct like veins, alive with intent.
This wasn't armour.
This was ascension.
The titan moved.
The air recoiled. The earth flinched. Space rippled like stretched fabric.
A blade formed in its right hand, not conjured, but forged from will alone. Golden. Jagged. Alive. The air warped around it, heatless but volatile.
Far away, Obito narrowed his eyes.
"This isn't Susanoo anymore. It's something beyond that."
The ground itself felt wrong.
For the first time, Danzo Shimura understood what it meant to be powerless.
Kaito raised the sword.
Reality cracked.
Danzo's voice ripped out of him:
"RUN!"
But no one did.
They moved—but didn't. Mid-step, mid-breath, their bodies locked. Paralysis without jutsu. Fear without genjutsu.
"W-What?!" gasped a Root agent, trembling behind his mask.
Danzo's mind churned.
"Not illusion. Not paralysis. Space itself... is being rewritten."
Obito's voice, low and grim:
"His second technique."
Danzo clenched his fists. Even Izanagi couldn't rewrite this. Not when Kaito could twist the rewrite itself.
"This isn't the Sharingan anymore. It's something else entirely."
His pride raged. His reason didn't argue.
He vanished.
Danzo's chakra flickered and faded.
From a distant rooftop, he watched—jaw tight, mind burning.
Everything I do is for Konoha.
The operatives? Expendable.
The Uchiha? A necessary purge.
But something burned in his chest, sharp and bitter.
That Uchiha brat... When I wear the Hokage's robes, he'll pay for this.
And then—
Another figure emerged.
Perched on the edge of the ruined compound, wind in his robes, smoke rising behind him.
Sarutobi Hiruzen.
His eyes rested on the golden colossus below.
A sigh escaped his lips.
"So… this is the monster we created."
Earlier
"Has it already begun?"
Itachi's voice barely broke the quiet, his footsteps soundless on empty stone. Shadows moved—and he moved with them.
Then—motion.
He tensed, kunai drawn.
"Who's there?"
A familiar voice answered.
"It's me."
Itachi paused. His blade lowered, but not entirely.
"…Father."
Fugaku stepped out from the shadow, face unreadable. Their eyes met—and changed.
The Mangekyō spun silently in Fugaku's gaze.
"You awakened it?" Itachi whispered, stunned.
Fugaku gave a single nod.
"It's been some time."
A beat of silence.
"Why hide it?" Itachi asked.
Fugaku's eyes looked beyond him, beyond the moment.
"My Mangekyō lets me glimpse futures. Not just possibilities—but paths. I've seen too many."
He stepped closer.
"And more than that—I can share those visions. Guide others."
Itachi absorbed that. The implications rippled.
"This isn't a weapon," Fugaku said. "It's a burden."
And then—he vanished.
***
Darkness wrapped the Uchiha district tightly.
Itachi moved through it like smoke, the silence oppressive. Even the crickets had gone quiet.
He reached the old courtyard.
"Come in," said a voice, calm, steady. "No traps."
Fugaku.
Inside, his parents knelt side by side. Composed. Unmoving.
"Father…" Itachi said, unease threading his voice.
"You've made your choice," Fugaku said softly. "You chose the village."
Silence.
Then Mikoto:
"We didn't call you here to fight."
She turned toward him. Her voice was warm, her face anything but.
"The Mangekyō is a gift—and a curse. Tonight, we pass that burden to you."
"This power," Fugaku said, "was never meant for domination. It was meant to protect."
"And Sasuke—" Mikoto's voice cracked slightly. "—he'll need you more than anyone."
Itachi flinched.
"Guide him. Be his shield. Your road is lonelier than ours but it's the right one."
Fugaku's voice grew soft.
"Even if we chose different paths... I'm proud of you."
Mikoto's smile was small. Tragic.
"Don't hesitate. Let our end be quick. Yours will not be."
Itachi's hand moved to his sword.
Then
A roar.
The floor shook. Dust fell like ash. The walls groaned.
They turned moved and ran.
But the air turned thick. Crushing. Wrong.
Itachi gasped. Couldn't draw breath. Couldn't move right.
And then—they saw it.
The golden titan.
It didn't shine. It distorted. Warped the world around it. Gravity bent in its presence.
Then—it turned.
Itachi's blood froze.
His Sharingan spun, screaming warnings. Muscles refused to obey.
Even Fugaku went still. His Mangekyō whirled, parsing data it didn't understand.
Mikoto's hand trembled over her heart.
The titan stepped forward.
BOOM.
Stone cracked. A shockwave slammed them.
Reality bent.
Itachi's heart jackhammered. His mind shouted Move! But his body stayed locked.
Fugaku forced air into his lungs. Each breath a battle.
"This… this isn't just Susanoo."
Mikoto whispered:
"It's him."
Fugaku's eyes narrowed.
He crushed the fear. Buried the instinct to flee.
And with resolve, locked eyes on the monster.