*Dong... Dong... Dong...*
Early in the morning, a sorrowful bell rang out, carried by the breeze, echoing through every corner of Konoha.
The air was cold and damp, carrying a chilling sensation. Although summer was approaching, the weather was unusually cold, as if it had reverted to the bitter chill of autumn and winter.
The sky was shrouded in misty clouds, and the heavy atmosphere seemed to descend from above, pressing down on everyone, making them feel a strange sense of oppression.
Countless civilians and shinobi filled the streets and alleys of Konoha. Everyone was dressed in black, holding white flowers, with expressions of grief and sorrow on their faces. It was as if they had all silently agreed to head in the same direction.
Mikoto's face was haggard, her eyes sunken, and the once bright, lively look in her eyes had turned dull and lifeless.
She held newborn Itachi in her arms, dressed in a black kimono. Her long hair was neatly pinned up with a hairpin, and her attire was solemn and respectful. With heavy steps, she walked alongside Uchiha Fugaku, leaving the Uchiha clan grounds and heading towards the Hokage Tower.
*Swish...*
Suddenly, the overcast sky began to drizzle, with light rain falling gently.
The cold raindrops touched Mikoto's face. She stopped in her tracks, her slender fingers brushing across her cheek. Her eyes momentarily dazed, she looked up at the sky, her thin shoulders trembling slightly.
Was even the sky crying?
At that moment, the emotions she had been holding back for so long seemed to break free, turning into tears that flowed from her eyes.
One by one, the drops fell down her cheeks, mixing with the rain, making it impossible for others to tell if it was rainwater or her tears.
"What's wrong, Mikoto?"
Fugaku, seeing his wife stop, turned around and asked with a hint of confusion.
"No, it's nothing,"
Mikoto bit her lip, gently shaking her head. She squeezed her legs together and hurriedly wiped her face.
Fugaku was a bit puzzled. Had he just seen tears on his wife's face?
No, it must have been the rain.
He shook his head, dismissing it as a trick of his mind. "Let's go, Mikoto. The funeral is about to start."
At the plaza.
Countless people held white flowers, dressed in black kimonos. In the silence, a profound atmosphere of grief and sorrow began to permeate.
With the tolling of the bell echoing through the crowd, the funeral officially began.
Some people could no longer hold back their emotions, stifling their sobs. The quiet, muffled cries brought the air of sorrow to its peak.
At the very front of the gathering stood the two elders, Mitokado Homura and Utatane Koharu.
A long table was covered with white flowers, and at the center was a black-and-white photo of Uchiha Sogetsu.
The face in the photo was young and handsome, with a slight pallor hinting at frailty, yet his eyes held a pure, childlike clarity that brought a sense of peace.
"We are gathered here today to hold a funeral, to mourn…"
Homura's voice faltered, and he suddenly choked up, staring at the young man in the black-and-white photo. For a moment, his emotions were complicated.
"We mourn the brave souls who sacrificed themselves in this war, and... the hero of Konoha, the Fourth Hokage, Uchiha Sougetsu."
"Why... Why did Lord Sougetsu have to die?"
Kakashi looked at the person in the frame, anger boiling in his chest.
This scene felt all too familiar.
His father, Sakumo Hatake, had also been a hero of Konoha, known as the "White Fang," but in the end, he couldn't escape death.
Now, Uchiha Sougetsu, who had also been honored as a hero, met the same fate.
What made it even more absurd was that Uchiha Sougetsu's death was covered up. The higher-ups didn't even allow the public one last chance to pay their respects to his remains.
The official explanation was that Uchiha Sougetsu had suffered grave injuries during the war, fought on despite his failing health, and passed away suddenly yesterday.
But such an explanation was laughable, and it wasn't enough to deceive even the villagers.
Konoha?
The current Kakashi found it all to be a joke.
Village, comrades, the Will of Fire—nothing but nonsense!
The two advisors couldn't even bring themselves to look people in the eye when questioned, out of guilt, shame, fear, and dread.
Once the truth was exposed, Konoha would completely lose its unity!
"Now, please proceed in an orderly manner to present your flowers," Mitokado Homura hurriedly announced the next part of the ceremony, fearing he might be torn apart by the angry crowd.
One by one, people carried their white bouquets to the young Hokage, placing the flowers before him.
Quickly, a mountain of white blooms piled up, and the crowd no longer held back their emotions.
"Lord Sougetsu... sob, sob..."
"No, I can't believe it. How could Lord Sougetsu just die like this?"
"There must be a conspiracy behind this!"
"That's right! Someone must have killed Lord Sougetsu!"
"The advisors are hiding the truth about Lord Sougetsu's death!"
Despite this, the crowd continued to speculate about the mysterious circumstances behind the death of the young Fourth Hokage.
"I swear this won't be the end of it!"
Namikaze Minato stepped forward, standing in the gentle, unending rain.
His usually bright, sun-like yellow hair was now damp and drooping, clinging to his face as the raindrops fell. Standing before the black-and-white portrait, he looked up at the face in the photo and at the Hokage building draped in white cloth.
Deep sadness welled up in his eyes as he clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white, and rage seemed to spill through his gritted teeth. "Shimura Danzo, I will never forgive you!"
"Everyone, please observe a moment of silence," Koharu Utatane softly announced.
The once-noisy crowd immediately fell silent.
Tears began to flow uncontrollably, and the people in the plaza no longer suppressed their emotions, letting out the sorrow they had been holding back without restraint.
A profound grief enveloped the scene, taking on a tangible presence within the silent mourning.
With their eyes closed, silently crying, the people could almost see a vision of the young man who had once single-handedly saved them during Konoha's darkest times.
The emotion spread quickly, touching everyone present, and they found themselves unconsciously whispering in their hearts, "May you find peace in the Pure Land, and may your soul rest easy."
At that moment, the sorrow reached its peak.
At the grand funeral of Konoha's Fourth Hokage, more than ten thousand hearts resonated deeply with one another.
Amidst this intense atmosphere of grief, a figure cloaked in black, as if separated from the world like a ghost, slowly lifted his head. His face was identical to the one in the black-and-white portrait. He reached into his robes and pulled out a crystal vial.
The vial held a liquid filled with countless shimmering fragments, like the manifestation of a collective subconscious sea.
Without any hesitation, he drank the liquid in the vial, amidst the overwhelming emotions of over ten thousand mourners.
Gulp!
The moment the elixir merged into his body, he felt as if he no longer had a physical form.
His consciousness was elevated infinitely, collapsing into a singular thought, or perhaps hundreds of thoughts, merging with the illusory ocean of grief surrounding him.
Unlike before, this time, he didn't need to pass through the realm of dreams or the island of the soul. He could directly see the "ocean of the collective subconscious," and as he merged into it, it felt as though he was returning to his original form, a pure consciousness enduring the impact of all humanity's accumulated subconscious thoughts.
There was fear, madness, sorrow, joy—a torrent of chaotic emotions crashing over him like a tidal wave, as spiritual imprints left in this ocean constantly broke him down and influenced him.
Under such overwhelming spiritual pressure, his sense of self began to erode, as if he would be lost within this endless sea of subconsciousness.
But in the next moment, he swiftly regained clarity, constantly using Psychological Cue and Calm to dispel the residual mental pollution.
Voices gradually grew clearer and louder around him.
Until they resonated throughout the vast ocean of collective subconsciousness, stirring the power of the soul, surging like a wild tide.
"May you find peace in the Pure Land, and may your soul rest easy."
"May your soul rest in peace, and may you find your way to the Pure Land."
"May your soul rest in peace, and may you find your way to the Pure Land."
The repeated voices helped calm his mind, stabilizing his spirit.
Then, in a single thought, it was as if multiple transparent, ethereal consciousnesses were being stripped away from his mind.
These splintered thoughts transformed into avatars, wandering freely within the collective unconscious. They traveled to the mental islands representing different individuals and climbed upon them.
On those islands, he could clearly perceive the thoughts and emotions of various people.
At that moment, a ray of sunlight pierced through the dark clouds, casting its light upon the earth.
Like a forgotten figure cloaked in black, he slowly opened his eyes. Deep within his gray pupils, layers of rippling whirlpools could be seen.
Observing the people around him, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips. Raising a hand, he pulled down his hood and then turned to walk away into the distance.
[Main Quest: Advance to Sequence 4 - Manipulator]
[Consume the potion amidst the overwhelming emotional resonance of at least ten thousand people in a specific setting.]
[Reward: Groselle's Travels]
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