Clouds of War
It was late at night on January 10, 1950, in Konohagakure.
The village, nestled in the heart of the Land of Fire, lay in complete silence. The usual bustle of the streets, often filled with villagers and ninja alike, was absent. The bright moon hung high in the sky, its silver light casting a peaceful, almost ethereal glow over the village, veiling it with a soft, misty sheen.
In the center of the village, the Hokage Building stood out, brightly lit against the dark night. The building was a symbol of authority and power, its lights illuminating the immediate area as a beacon of order amidst the darkened streets.
Around the Hokage Building, ANBU members—clad in their white animal masks, black tights, and white armor—stood motionless like statues, their presence a silent testament to the heavy atmosphere that hung in the air. It was as though the very air was charged with an unseen pressure.
Without warning, a figure wearing a white cloak and a blank, featureless mask appeared atop the Hokage Building's platform. His voice cut through the silence like a whip: "Kumogakure and Sunagakure are attacking! Immediately alert all ninjas in the village."
He paused briefly before continuing. "Have them assist the police department in evacuating civilians to the shelters, then converge at the Hokage Building for further orders!"
"Yes, Minister!" the ANBU responded, bowing quickly before dispersing. Their movements were quick and precise, their hearts heavy with the gravity of the situation.
Less than six minutes later, at the western edge of the Uchiha clan's territory, an Uchiha ninja landed softly in front of a two-story building.
"Uchiha Gen, emergency call to gather at the police department immediately," the ninja stated, his tone urgent.
"I know," came the response, and the Uchiha ninja vanished, moving with haste.
Inside the house, on the second floor, a figure quickly rose from the warmth of his bed, his eyes sharp and focused. He swiftly dressed, donning black armor that covered his torso, arms, and legs. His equipment was typical of a ninja, but it bore the iconic fan symbol of the Uchiha clan on the back. A ninja sword hung across his back, and black boots replaced the usual sandals. The moonlight illuminated his features—he was about twelve or thirteen years old, with sharp, striking features, dark, intense eyes, and a commanding presence. His entire appearance exuded an aura of coldness, aloofness, and quiet strength.
"What on earth could warrant an emergency call at this hour?" Gen muttered to himself, his voice tinged with frustration. "What is the Third Hokage thinking?"
His words were filled with disdain, a sentiment not typically voiced by a Konoha citizen. In fact, Gen was far from being a native. He had not been born into this world; he had come from another—Blue Star.
The previous owner of his body, Uchiha Gen, had died on the battlefield from injuries sustained during a skirmish. Gen's arrival had been at the tail end of the original's life, and after regaining consciousness in Konoha, he had spent the past three and a half months recovering and training.
"I have the battlefield experience from the original's memories," Gen mused, "but this will be my first time facing war firsthand. It's... both terrifying and exhilarating."
With a flick of his chakra, his Sharingan activated, the familiar crimson eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight. The magatama within them spun lazily, one in each eye, a visual manifestation of pain and loss. The first time he awakened the Sharingan had been when he learned of his parents' deaths, and the second time when he witnessed the loss of his teachers and comrades.
A shiver of cold wind swept through the air, cutting through his thoughts. Gen clenched his jaw, refocusing. Without hesitation, he vanished into the night.
At the Konoha Police Department, members of the Uchiha clan had already gathered in the square. Dressed in dark ninja garb, they formed a silent, orderly line, their faces stern. The clan, although large in number, was divided into many branches, and not all members had unlocked the power of the Sharingan. Nevertheless, those who had activated the Sharingan, especially those with the Mangekyō Sharingan, were considered the clan's elite.
Gen's arrival didn't cause any stir. The Uchiha members silently parted to allow him through, their respect for him palpable. Even at the young age of thirteen, Gen had already earned recognition as a prodigy within the clan, his status elevated by his Sharingan and remarkable talent.
A few moments later, three more ninjas arrived, confirming attendance. The tension in the air grew heavier with each passing second.
Then, a tall, seasoned ninja stepped out of the Police Department building. He had short brown hair and squinted eyes, wearing the dark blue Uchiha clan uniform adorned with the clan symbol on his back and shoulders. His attire was completed by the green Jōnin armor.
"Captain Yatsudai," the gathered Uchiha ninjas greeted with slight bows.
Yatsudai's expression was grim as he addressed them. "Kumogakure and Sunagakure have launched a surprise attack. They're not far from Konoha."
"The Hokage has ordered the evacuation of civilians to shelters. All ninjas are to converge under the Hokage Building immediately," Yatsudai ordered, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility.
His words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder that Konoha was about to face an unprecedented crisis—one that would test its strength, resolve, and unity.
Gen's expression hardened. It was indeed war, the kind of war Konoha had not seen in decades. The fact that the enemy had come so close to the village was a dire omen. The loss and sacrifice to come were inevitable.
As the Uchiha ninjas sprang into action, Gen felt a strange clarity. This would be the defining conflict that marked the twilight of the Third Hokage's reign. Sarutobi Hiruzen's decision to step down was likely tied to the aftermath of this war—a war that would leave Konoha broken but unbowed, with the old Hokage assuming the blame for Konoha's failures, despite his lifelong dedication.
"Yes!" came the collective response.
The ninjas swiftly moved into action, dispersing across the village to carry out their orders. The streets of Konoha were soon filled with families hurrying toward the shelters, the cries of children ringing in the air.
It was the first time that Konoha had been so vulnerable, and the lack of preparation made the evacuation process slow and inefficient. It wasn't until dawn that the last of the civilians were safely secured.
But there was no time to rest. The order was clear—gather at the Hokage Building.
By the time the sun rose, Konoha had become a hive of activity. The ninjas, though exhausted, stood ready. The storm was coming, and the village's defenders prepared to face it with unwavering resolve.
Konoha would not fall. Not without a fight.