Satoru's fingers trembled slightly beneath his black robe.
The continuous use of his techniques had drained him significantly, both physically and mentally. His rapid calculations and precision during the fight left him with a pounding headache.
But it was manageable.
His familiarity with Kamui's weaknesses, coupled with the insight of his Six Eyes, had allowed him to hold his ground in the earlier clash. However, that was the extent of his capabilities for now. The skirmish had been little more than a warm-up.
Across from him, Uchiha Obito observed Satoru's calm demeanor and withdrew his chains. He had also reached his limit for the moment and saw no need to continue fighting.
For now, there was something more pressing: the extermination of the Uchiha clan.
Obito glanced at Satoru with a quiet intensity, as if committing him to memory.
We'll meet again.
With those parting words, Obito disappeared into the air, his presence vanishing entirely.
Satoru exhaled slowly.
"Finally gone," he muttered.
Was this the enemy he would face in the future? Obito seemed stronger than the last time they met. His rapid progression was troubling, a cause for concern.
Satoru's gaze grew distant, his pale blue eyes filled with a mix of determination and weariness.
Elsewhere, within Obito's body, the ever-present White Zetsu was far from calm.
What did I just see?
Those eyes... they weren't the Rinnegan. But they were unlike any normal eyes.
The power they contained was immense, close to the level of the Rinnegan. Could they be some kind of mutated version?
White Zetsu pondered the possibility for a long time but couldn't make sense of it. Eventually, he relayed his observations to Black Zetsu, whose response was anything but calm.
What is happening?
Black Zetsu's mind raced.
How could such a mutation exist? Could there really be another kind of eye?
While the possibility of them being ordinary eyes was dismissed immediately—Black Zetsu's sensory abilities confirmed the presence of extraordinary power—he still couldn't identify their exact nature.
This power wasn't typical ocular energy. It felt primordial, closer to the origins of the world itself.
What could they be?
Who is this masked man? Could he become an obstacle to my plans?
Meanwhile, in Konoha, within the Uchiha compound, blood painted the dark night.
Uchiha Itachi stood amidst the silent carnage, corpses scattered around him. The clan's once-bustling stronghold was now eerily quiet.
His once-bright eyes were clouded with deep shadows of sorrow and pain. Negative emotions lingered within him, heavy and inescapable.
Still, he pressed forward, resolute in his actions. Yet, something felt off.
Why has this been so… easy?
As the clan's patriarch, his father should have organized the family to resist immediately. But there had been no sign of him. Nor had Itachi encountered significant resistance along the way.
Could the masked man have secretly intervened?
The thought calmed his doubts momentarily.
Lowering his gaze, he stepped into the last lit room of the compound. When he raised his head again, his heart sank.
Inside, his father, mother, and Satoru lay motionless on the floor.
Their faces bore no trace of panic, only a faint, peaceful smile.
"Father… Mother… Satoru..." Itachi's voice trembled, hoarse and broken.
What's going on?
He hadn't acted yet—so why?
Even though he had prepared himself for this moment, the sight of it tore at him, filling him with sorrow and guilt.
His fingers trembled slightly as he took in the scene. Mixed emotions churned within him, but he forced himself to remain composed.
His gaze fell on a letter left on the table.
[Letter]
By the time you read this, we'll likely be in another world.
Don't be sad, Itachi.
Compared to us, your pain is only just beginning.
There's only one thing we ask: Take care of Sasuke.
Finally…
We, along with Satoru, do not blame you for your choice. We simply walk different paths.
We hope you won't resent us for ours.
The weight of their words crushed Itachi.
Father, Mother, Satoru…
They had chosen self-sacrifice, sparing him the burden of making the ultimate choice. Their final act of love was a severance as heavy as it was selfless.
Looking at their still bodies, Itachi felt a deep confusion and anguish. Tears of blood fell silently to the ground.
The door suddenly opened.
Sasuke burst in, his small frame shaking with panic.
"Big brother! Father, Mother, and Satoru… they…"
His voice cracked, and tears streamed down his face.
"Why? How could this happen? Who did this?!"
His grief-stricken words trailed off, unable to comprehend the loss of his parents and elder brother—who had always teased him—now lying lifeless.
Itachi, forcing himself to remain calm, turned to face Sasuke. Without a word, he flung a shuriken at him.
The sharp blade sliced past Sasuke, grazing his hair before embedding itself in the wall behind him.
Sasuke froze in shock, his tearful eyes staring at his brother in disbelief.
"Stupid little brother," Itachi said coldly, his kaleidoscope Sharingan spinning.
"If you don't want to die by my hand, be afraid. Run away. Live in fear and grow stronger."
That night, flames engulfed the Uchiha compound, lighting up the sky.
On a mountain outside Konoha, Obito watched the fire burn, his gaze shifting to Itachi beside him.
"You're surprisingly decisive," Obito remarked, though his tone carried curiosity.
Itachi ignored him, his expression unreadable.
The fire wasn't his doing, though.
Who could it have been?
After a long silence, Itachi turned to Obito and noticed the injury on his arm.
"You're hurt?"
Obito's eyes narrowed as memories of his earlier clash with Satoru resurfaced.
Who was that man?
Pushing the thought aside, he refocused on Itachi.
"As agreed, I'll be waiting for you at the Akatsuki. Don't keep me waiting too long."
With that, he disappeared into the night.
>>>>>
Up to Chapter 140 available on Patreon.com/c/GGFanfiction :)
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