The battle was over. The scent of blood and burning wood still lingered in the air, but the hard part had just begun. Itachi exhaled, allowing himself a fleeting moment of relief before turning his gaze to the warriors before him. Their bodies bore the marks of battle, but their eyes—those crimson, spinning orbs—held something deeper: anger, grief, and above all, exhaustion. Not just from the fight, but from the weight of history pressing down on them.
He stepped forward, climbing atop a massive boulder left shattered in the wake of the battle. The full moon bathed the ruins in silver light, casting long shadows across the gathered Uchiha. His voice, steady and cold, cut through the silence.
"Do you know where the Will of Fire comes from?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some nodded, others remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"It was Madara who first spoke of it. Yes, Madara—not Hashirama. He told Hashirama what it meant to him: that the Will of Fire was the unbreakable drive to protect one's people, no matter the cost. Hashirama agreed, and together they forged its final meaning. But over time, it was twisted."
A pause. His gaze swept over them, locking eyes with every warrior who dared meet his own.
"The first to suffer under this distortion was our own Kagami Uchiha. The village elders—Danzo, Homura, Koharu—fed him a perversion of the Will of Fire. They told him that protecting the village meant sacrificing everything, even his own life. And he believed them. He took mission after mission, pushing himself beyond his limits, all for the so-called greater good. Until one day, it caught up to him."
He let the words sink in before he pressed on, his tone sharpening like a blade.
"The truth is, they killed him."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"They saw Kagami as a threat. A Uchiha, a student of the Second Hokage—his rise was inevitable. If not the Third Hokage, then surely the Fourth or Fifth would be one of his kin. And that, they could not allow. So they plotted his death, orchestrated his downfall. While Tobirama, Hiruzen, and Torifu were away, Danzo and the others saw to it that Kagami never returned from the Land of Mist. And to this day, Danzo still holds Kagami's stolen eye."
Itachi clenched his fists. His next words came slowly, deliberately.
"And just like Kagami, Shisui's eyes were taken."
The weight of his admission crushed the air around them. The clan stood frozen, as if the very ground beneath them had turned to ice.
"I never told Shisui the truth about how his grandfather died. And I regret it. I regret it because, when we were sent to eliminate Mukai Kohinata, I had the chance to learn the truth—and I took it. Mukai offered us something in exchange for his life: a secret the Uchiha had long been dying to know. Shisui didn't care, but I did. So I reached into his mind and I saw."
He inhaled sharply, his Sharingan spinning as if reliving that moment.
"Danzo was behind the Nine-Tails attack."
The air itself seemed to stop. The weight of his words, the sheer gravity of the truth, sent ripples of shock through the crowd.
"Everything—the deaths, the blame placed on us, the persecution we've suffered—was orchestrated. And now, we stand at a crossroads."
His voice darkened, filled with something dangerous, something final.
"We will reclaim what is ours. But the village will not allow it. They will brand us traitors. Traitors… in the very village we built with our own hands. If this place is no longer our home, then we will tear it down and build anew."
The blood-red glow of their Sharingan illuminated the darkness.
"If we do nothing, the cycle will continue. Our children, our grandchildren will suffer as we have suffered. They will be forced to clean up the mess we were too cowardly to face. But you've all seen it—you felt it in this battle. We have the power to change it."
He looked at them, his voice no longer cold but burning with conviction.
"I don't care about the Hokage position. I don't care about power. I don't think I'm better than anyone. But I care about my people. I care about how we are treated. Do you not feel it? The walls closing in, the village shrinking around us, forcing us into a smaller and smaller space? Do you not feel like you are being erased from your own home?"
Silence. And then—an eruption.
A roar of approval, of rage, of unwavering resolve. Their eyes, spinning with hatred and purpose, locked onto him, waiting for the next command.
Itachi had done it.
They would follow him.
The moonlight cast long, oppressive shadows over the gathered Uchiha, their eyes burning with the intensity of the words spoken by Itachi. But as his final plea echoed through the air, a murmur rippled through the crowd—a sense of unease among some, hesitation from others. Some still held their ground, yet doubts clouded their faces. Their families were safe within the walls of the village, and they couldn't help but wonder: what would happen to them if they followed Itachi?
A few clan members exchanged furtive glances, some wringing their hands as though weighing the cost. Would they be able to protect their children once they were outside the village's borders? The safety of their families was still tied to the village, where they had built lives—homes, businesses, and friendships. The thought of abandoning that security was unthinkable for many.
But not all of them were so vocal in their doubts. Some remained silent, their eyes betraying a shared understanding of what must be done. The quiet ones, the ones who could see beyond their fears, met Itachi's gaze with quiet defiance, their resolve clear despite their silence. The difference was palpable—the torn expressions of those who hesitated, and the hard, unwavering eyes of those who knew that following him was the only choice.
Itachi's voice cut through the tension, calm yet filled with unshakeable conviction.
"I know what you're thinking."
He scanned the crowd, his eyes softening just slightly.
"You're wondering about your families. You're wondering if they'll be safe once we leave. You're wondering how you will survive outside these walls. Let me assure you—there's a plan."
The clan was quiet again, his words soothing their anxiety, but the worry still lingered in the air like a storm cloud.
"Things are already in motion. I've taken steps to ensure that once we leave, there will be no question about what comes next. In one year's time, our standard of living will be upgraded, and our people will thrive. But this path isn't easy. It requires faith. It requires you to trust me."
The words hung heavy in the air, and Itachi could feel the pulse of doubt that still clung to some in the crowd. He could see it in their eyes. They feared change. They feared the unknown. And who could blame them?
"When Madara first proposed leaving Konoha, no one listened to him. It was understandable, after all. They'd just finished a century-long war. There was peace—finally. People didn't want to throw that away. The Senju never fought on the frontlines as we did. We shed our blood in every war. We came back from every battle and still, we were denied recognition. No promotions. No rewards. Just suspicion. Just silence."
He stepped forward, his gaze sharpening, cutting through the air like a blade.
"And now, after all we've given, what do we face? Suppression. Your kin are dying before your very eyes. The moment you show even a hint of power, they strike you down. They call us traitors for standing up for ourselves. For daring to challenge them."
The moonlight flickered as his words sank deeper into the hearts of his clan. The ones who had been silent, those who had hesitated, could feel the weight of the truth crashing down on them.
"Within these walls, you will never be able to evolve your eyes. You will never grow stronger. And if you don't act now—if you don't follow me—then I can promise you, your children will inherit the same fate."
The air turned icy with the realization. Itachi's voice dropped to a chilling whisper, the final blow to their doubts.
"Danzo is still alive. And he has a collection of eyes he's taken from our young. He uses them in his experiments. Your children's eyes—their very futures—are at risk. He'll take them and use them as he pleases, all for his own gain. If you don't come with me, that will be your fate. That will be your children's fate."
The revelation hit them like a thunderclap. The blood drained from the faces of the hesitant, their doubts shattered by the stark reality of what Itachi was saying. He saw their eyes change—harden, resolve set in. They understood. They felt it in their bones.
"Do you want your children to grow up in a world where their eyes are stolen? Do you want them to live in fear of what might happen when they show their power?"
He let the question linger, letting it settle like dust in the air.
"If we stay here, we will be hunted. We will never be safe. But if we leave, we will build a new home, a place where our people are free. We will reclaim what is ours. And we will make sure no one, not Danzo, not the village elders, can ever take our future again."
And with those final words, the transformation began. The Uchiha clan, for all their hesitation, for all their doubt, began to shout in unison. Their voices, though strained with emotion, were filled with pride. They had been given a chance to fight back. They would take it. Some cried for their families, for what they were leaving behind, but they also cried for what could be—a future free from the chains that had held them for so long.
In that moment, they were all bound by a common cause. They had seen the truth. They had heard Itachi's words. And they would follow him.
"For the Uchiha," they shouted.
"For the Uchiha," Itachi echoed back, his voice unwavering.
And as the night grew darker, the clan stood united.