Ren Asakura sat atop the tallest power pole in Konohagakure.
The moon hung high in the night sky.
From his vantage point, he quietly watched the battle unfolding outside the village.
"If only I could join in… Ah, my group members are too reliable sometimes—it's a blessing and a curse."
Battle and growth go hand in hand.
Only through hardship and struggle can one truly become stronger.
Minato Namikaze understood this well.
That's why he only hoped Ren Asakura would act as a last resort.
Everything else—he would handle himself.
He would find his own way.
Because at the end of the day—
Ren Asakura was not of this world.
Eventually, he would leave.
And Minato could not afford to rely on him for everything.
A borrowed mountain will collapse.
A borrowed man will leave.
When true disaster strikes—
The only one you can depend on is yourself.
Shisui Uchiha's eyes turned ice-cold.
The Third Shinobi War had only just ended.
Everyone was still on edge.
And now, in a moment of vulnerability, someone had come to attack.
It was exactly what an enemy would do.
If the Nine-Tails was released, it would be disastrous.
But then—
Shisui caught a glimpse of the man's eye through the hole in his mask.
And he froze.
His face turned ashen.
And then—pure, uncontrollable killing intent erupted from his body.
This masked man had to die.
Because within the eye-hole of that single-lens mask…
He saw it.
A Sharingan.
A three-tomoe Sharingan.
The one who slaughtered the Anbu…
The one who came to attack the Jinchūriki…
Was an Uchiha.
If Konoha's leadership discovered this…
The fragile peace the Uchiha had just started to rebuild—
Would be shattered once again.
Shisui would not allow it.
It didn't matter if this man was truly a Uchiha or not.
It didn't matter who he was.
He had to die.
Because the betrayal of Uchiha Madara had already left an eternal scar on their clan.
If another Uchiha betrayed Konoha now…
If the Nine-Tails was unleashed…
If the village was destroyed and countless civilians died…
Shisui couldn't even imagine the consequences.
Not even the Fourth Hokage might be able to mend the damage.
That possibility…
Was unacceptable.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Jutsu!"
Understanding the stakes, Shisui attacked without hesitation.
A hail of fireballs rained toward the masked man.
But the masked man—Obito Uchiha—
Let his body turn to mist.
The flames passed straight through him, splashing harmlessly into the distant lake.
"What kind of ability is this?!"
Shisui's heart pounded.
Even though his attack had only been a test, it was still something no ordinary ninja could survive.
The masked man turned his head slightly.
A single, cold voice rang through the night.
"Shisui Uchiha."
Obito Uchiha immediately recognized his opponent.
But even so—he did not retreat.
With Hashirama's cells, he could use his Mangekyō Sharingan as much as he wanted.
He didn't believe he could lose.
Because this fake world—
Had to be completely destroyed.
He would create a world where Rin was alive.
A world where happiness was real.
This world—this reality—was nothing but a lie.
Ren Asakura watched the battle unfold with an amused smile.
Uchiha Shisui.
Uchiha Obito.
Two warriors, both possessing Mangekyō Sharingan.
Two warriors, both at Kage-level strength.
"The Uchiha Clan really is full of talent, huh?"
Ren's tone carried a hint of amusement.
Shisui leaped from the treetops, descending like a shadow.
In his hand—a short blade.
A weapon that had accompanied him for years.
A weapon that had made him famous in the Third Shinobi War.
With one clean slash—
Shisui vanished into the darkness.
Too fast.
Fast enough to kill before the enemy even realized what happened.
His blade sliced through Obito's body.
But—
Shisui felt nothing.
The moment they crossed paths—
A chain came flying toward Shisui, attempting to restrain him.
Sensing the shift in the airflow,
Shisui instinctively raised his short sword in defense.
A second later—
Blade and chain clashed.
Sparks erupted into the night.
CLANG!
Before the chain could coil around him—
Shisui flashed away with a Body Flicker Technique.
From a safe distance, he narrowed his eyes.
"This jutsu… What is solid? What is intangible?"
Both men's eyes shifted—
Their pupils spinning into Mangekyō Sharingan.
For a brief moment, their gazes locked.
Then, Shisui's heart trembled.
"Mangekyō Sharingan… Who are you?!"
Tonight had already brought too many shocks.
He never expected to encounter another Uchiha with Mangekyō—
aside from himself and Fugaku Uchiha.
Then, the masked man spoke.
His voice was low and hoarse.
"I am the ghost of the Uchiha…
You may call me Uchiha Madara."
Another shockwave ran through Shisui's mind.
Tonight was full of surprises.
The name 'Madara' echoed throughout the ninja world.
He was the ancestor of the Uchiha.
A legendary warrior, as powerful as the God of Shinobi himself.
Even now, at the Valley of the End,
Two massive statues stood in memory of his battle against Hashirama.
Together, the two had built Konohagakure.
Together, they had ended the Warring States Period.
Together, they had created the ninja village system.
But then—Madara betrayed Konoha.
And his betrayal led to Hashirama's death.
Ever since, the Uchiha Clan had been pushed to the margins of Konoha's society.
The Second Hokage had always believed the Uchiha were inherently evil.
Madara's betrayal only solidified that belief.
Though the village gave the Uchiha power—
It also kept them at arm's length.
Eventually, they were excluded from politics altogether.
Shisui gritted his teeth.
"I don't believe you."
He raised his short sword in front of his chest.
His gaze was lethal.
"Uchiha Madara is dead.
Who are you really?
Why are you pretending to be him?"
The masked man's tone remained calm.
"I already told you… I am Uchiha Madara."
"You really think I'd fall for that?!"
Shisui's eyes sharpened.
"It doesn't matter.
Because tonight—you die."
His body tensed.
Then—dozens of Shisuis appeared all around.
They weren't Shadow Clones.
They were real.
By combining his Body Flicker Technique with Sharingan Genjutsu,
He had created a perfect illusion.
Each copy could move as fast as the original.
Each copy could strike just as lethally.
Tonight—
The battle had truly begun.
°°°
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