Uchiha Yao's Susanoo shattered like brittle glass under the crushing force of Uchiha Shin's fist, the massive chakra construct cracking and collapsing in on itself with a sickening crunch.
BANG!!!
The punch connected directly with Uchiha Yao's chest—more precisely, his heart. In an instant, his upper torso erupted into a mist of crimson, splattering viscera in all directions.
A gust of wind carried the blood fog outward, painting the stunned Uchiha spectators in a macabre veil of red.
They stood frozen, paralyzed by shock.
Their clan leader—destroyed with a single blow?
Uchiha Yao wasn't just any ninja. He had awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan. He could manifest a full-body Susanoo. He was supposed to be invincible… but now his remains were atomized in the air.
Seconds passed. Still, no resurrection. No shimmering illusion of reality breaking, no reversal of fate.
"Izanagi… didn't activate?" one member whispered in horror.
It didn't make sense. That technique should've undone death itself. But something—something about Shin—suppressed even the power of the gods.
It could only mean one thing: Uchiha Shin had a power that invalidated the very fabric of dojutsu-based reality manipulation.
"He punched through Susanoo like it was wet paper," another member murmured, dropping to his knees. "What the hell are we supposed to do against that?"
"The fall of the Uchiha… is this it?" someone else muttered, eyes glazed.
Uchiha Shin looked at them all with apathetic detachment, the edge of his lip twitching into the faintest smirk.
"We share the same bloodline," he said, "but you… I can't relate to a single one of you."
A low hum vibrated through the air as his pupils shifted—the Nine Tomoe Rinnegan now glowed in his eyes, each magatama swirling within the ripple-patterned sclera.
Gasps escaped the remaining Uchiha. The scarlet ocular power burned into their retinas like a curse.
"He's still Uchiha?" someone blurted.
But it was too late.
"Kotoamatsukami."
The genjutsu activated silently, without fanfare. The wills of the Uchiha present were overwritten, consciousness rewritten like a corrupt save file restored from backup.
Every eye turned glassy.
Every mind fell under his control.
Except… for one.
Shin's eyes narrowed. An anomaly.
He turned his gaze to her—Uchiha Jiri, one of the guards who'd been watching over the prison chamber earlier.
She stood rigid, drenched in sweat, her breath uneven. Her fingers twitched as if resisting an unseen force.
She had felt it—the foreign chakra trying to manipulate her mind, reshaping her will.
Instinctively, a different ocular power had flared to life: Izanami—an involuntary activation that forcibly rejected the manipulation of fate.
She didn't mean to use it. It was a last-resort defense. But it worked.
And now she realized just how horrifying Shin's dojutsu was.
He could edit reality—not just illusions, not just sight—but thought itself.
And he'd tried to overwrite her.
Jiri's face turned pale as Shin's gaze bore down on her, calculating.
"Interesting," Shin muttered. "I want to know your name... but let's hold off on that."
He looked past her.
Far in the distance, chakra signatures surged.
Enemy shinobi.
From the shapes of their headbands, it wasn't just one village—this was a coalition.
They had found out.
They knew the Uchiha's plan to weaponize Uchiha Hikaru.
And now they were coming for blood.
"You should focus on resisting the outsiders. As for you…" His finger pointed lazily at Jiri. "You stay."
"Yes!" the Uchiha, now under his control, answered in robotic unison and began to disperse.
Jiri was left behind—frozen, her breath shallow.
She didn't know what was coming next.
Shin, however, turned his attention back to the dark corner of the compound—where a girl knelt, her hair dirty, her wrists bruised from the sealing chains that had only recently been broken.
Uchiha Hikaru.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide, disbelief flickering in her expression.
"Why… why someone like me?" she asked quietly. "Why save me?"
There was no logic to it. No explanation.
They were strangers.
And she was a weapon—a discarded experiment. A girl with a cursed chakra nature and no known future.
"Maybe I came to this world just to meet you," Shin replied softly. "So there's no need to ask why."
Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded unnaturally fast.
What was this? This heat blooming in her chest? This strange pressure in her throat?
Despite her confusion, she reached out—hesitating—her hand trembling as it neared him.
She barely brushed his sleeve before snatching it back in fear.
But Shin took her hand anyway. Firm, warm.
He pulled her to her feet.
"You'll never accomplish anything if you hesitate," he told her with a small smile. "Come. This world will be yours, too."
He stepped out from the shadows, leading her away from her prison.
It was the first time she'd walked under the open sky in years.
Uchiha Hikaru stared blankly ahead, fists clenched, like she didn't believe it was real.
"This world... it's always been cruel. So why?" she whispered, stealing glances at him. "Why would you…?"
She didn't trust him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
No one had ever saved her without a price. There had to be an agenda.
Shin didn't care.
He knew this was a process. Hikaru had been used. Betrayed. Sealed away.
She wouldn't believe in kindness. Not yet.
But she was out now.
And that was the start.
After all, the Uchiha were raised to conquer themselves before anyone else.
"And what's your name?" Shin asked her again, glancing at the silent girl beside him.
"W-weapon…?" she replied instinctively.
"No," he said sharply. "Your name. Not your designation. You're not a weapon. You're you—a person, equal to me."
He tapped her forehead lightly with two fingers, just between the eyes.
"Remember that."
Hikaru froze.
Her breath caught.
What was this feeling? This warmth behind his voice?
Her lips trembled. Her mind raced.
"We just met... I don't understand why your words make me feel like this," she confessed. "But of everyone I've ever met, you're… the most different."
She clenched her fists again and swallowed.
"My name is… Hikaru. Uchiha Hikaru. That's the name my parents gave me."
Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried all the weight of her identity.
Too long, she'd been called nothing.
Too long, she'd been "it" or "weapon" or "subject."
Only Shin had asked her name.
"Hikaru," Shin said, smiling slightly. "A beautiful name. Your parents must've wanted you to shine like sunlight… to walk in the light."
He reached out and gently wiped a tear from her cheek.
Behind them, Jiri stood silent.
Shin turned toward her.
"You… you resisted Kotoamatsukami," he said, voice curious now. "That means your spirit is unusually strong—or your Sharingan is evolving. You even used Izanami."
Jiri blinked. She didn't know how to answer.
"I can tell," Shin continued. "You don't have the same sickness toward Hikaru that the others did. You didn't see her as a weapon."
He stared into her eyes.
"So, tell me. Who are you really?"
Jiri's mouth opened, then closed. Her mind raced.
She'd never imagined this—Uchiha Shin, this anomaly, asking her of all people… who she was.
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