Evening draped over the Hidden Leaf, and the Hokage office stood in uneasy silence.
The meeting that night was unlike any before. For the first time in Konoha's long history, it was not the Hokage summoning the clans. It was Indra Uchiha.
Word had spread across the village like wildfire — a mandatory gathering for all major clan heads, ordered directly by Indra himself. No one dared to question it. No one even thought of refusing.
Inside the office, the tension was thick enough to choke on.
The long oval table, polished and scarred by years of village decisions, was filled with the weight of legacy — Yamanaka Inoichi, Akimichi Chōza, Nara Shikaku, Aburame Shibi, Inuzuka Tsume, Hyuga Hiashi, Hatake Sakumo's son Kakashi, and the remnants of the Sarutobi and Shimura clans.
Even those who had once sat beside Hokage Hiruzen as his trusted advisors had arrived early, their hearts uncertain and heavy.
Every tick of the wall clock echoed through the office like a blade being drawn. No one spoke. They waited.
The authority of the Hokage's chair still lingered — but the man who now ruled over Konoha was not wearing the Hokage's hat. He didn't need to.
The door slid open.
A faint smirk crossed Indra Uchiha's lips as he stepped in. His aura alone shifted the air. The faint crimson glow of his Rinnegan faded as his eyes relaxed into calm indifference. He walked with the ease of a man who feared no one.
His black cloak swept against the tiled floor as he entered slowly, deliberately — savoring the fear in the room.
Behind him followed Toru Uchiha, his loyal subordinate, silent and sharp-eyed.
Every clan head instinctively straightened their backs, pretending calm, but their nerves betrayed them. Indra was late — hours late — yet not a single person dared to complain.
He reached the front of the table and stopped, his gaze sweeping across the gathered faces.
A faint, amused smile touched his lips.
"I came at the right time… right?"
The words were casual, almost playful.
But not a single laugh came from the room.
Eyes darted away. Inoichi coughed quietly, Chōza looked down, and even Hiashi, who was rarely rattled, only adjusted his sleeves to hide his discomfort.
No one dared to contradict him.
Indra tilted his head slightly, his expression calm yet mocking, reading their silence like a confession.
Toru stepped forward quickly, bowing respectfully.
"Master Indra, you came at the perfect time. All the clan heads arrived earlier and have been waiting for your orders."
Indra nodded once, as if the world had just acted as it should. He didn't apologize, didn't explain — he simply walked toward the Hokage's seat.
The chair, carved with the insignia of Konoha, had always been the village's symbol of authority. Every leader before had sat there with pride.
But Indra did not sit on it.
He stopped in front of it, looked down for a brief moment, then turned to Toru.
"Bring another chair."
The order was simple. Yet it struck confusion through the room.
Shikaku Nara's brows twitched slightly, his sharp mind catching the meaning behind the gesture. It wasn't about comfort. It was about dominance.
Toru, however, didn't hesitate. "Right away, Master."
The wooden scrape of a chair echoed as Toru placed another seat beside the Hokage's. Indra lowered himself onto the new chair, leaning back casually.
Then, in full view of everyone, he raised one leg and placed it on the Hokage's chair — resting his boot against the sacred seat of leadership.
A faint crackle of chakra hummed around him, a quiet warning to anyone who might find this offensive.
Indra's expression remained calm, but his eyes glinted dangerously.
"This feels more comfortable," he murmured, as if speaking to himself.
No one dared breathe too loudly.
The gesture was not just disrespect — it was declaration.
The Hokage's era was over.
Indra was not pretending to lead from the shadows; he was claiming the throne without needing the title.
He let the silence stretch until it became unbearable, then finally spoke.
"Now," he said slowly, "let's discuss what belongs to whom."
His words carried the sharpness of judgment.
He raised his gaze, locking onto three specific groups.
"The Sarutobi clan. The Koharu faction. And the Aburame clan."
They stiffened instantly.
Indra's tone was casual, but every word pressed down like a blade.
"All your wealth, your assets, and your secret techniques will be seized by the Uchiha clan. Effective immediately."
A few gasps escaped before people could suppress them. Even Shikaku's mind, usually calm, stumbled for a moment trying to calculate the scale of what Indra had just demanded.
Indra leaned forward slightly, his voice cold.
"You will relocate your clans to the forest perimeter of the village. You'll have the rest of the night to comply."
The words hung in the air — final, absolute.
No one moved. No one spoke.
The Sarutobi head clenched his fists beneath the table, his pride bleeding beneath his skin. Hiashi exhaled quietly, glancing at Indra with concealed curiosity. Even he, the proud Hyuga patriarch, would not have dared such open confiscation.
Indra's eyes flickered with amusement as he watched their faces twist with silent anger and humiliation.
"Hmm?" he said softly, his tone dripping with feigned concern. "Do any of you have… objections?"
He smiled faintly. "Please, tell me your queries. I'll definitely help you."
His words were mockery disguised as kindness.
The Sarutobi head opened his mouth — his pride breaking through his caution. He rose halfway from his chair, voice trembling but defiant.
"Lord Indra, with all due respect, the Sarutobi clan has served Konoha since its founding! You cannot just—"
The sentence never finished.
A sharp, thin sound cut the air.
For a second, no one understood what had happened. Then a body hit the floor with a dull thud.
Blood spread across the polished wood.
Indra had not even stood up. His hand had barely moved. Yet his chakra blade had pierced the man's chest cleanly.
The smell of iron filled the room.
Every clan head froze in horror. Even Toru, who was accustomed to his master's ruthlessness, did not blink.
Indra leaned back in his chair again, exhaling softly as if nothing had happened.
"Now," he said calmly, "does anyone else have questions?"
The silence that followed was total.
Eyes lowered. Hands trembled. Even the sound of breathing seemed too loud.
Indra smiled faintly, satisfaction flickering across his face.
"Good," he murmured.
He turned slightly toward the window, watching the faint flicker of Konoha's lanterns outside. "Then let's continue."
His tone returned to a smooth, indifferent calm — but everyone in that room now knew one truth:
In the new Konoha, hesitation meant death.
The first half of the meeting had only just begun.
And already, the will of fire had turned to ash beneath Indra's feet.
The air inside the Hokage office had turned suffocating.
Even the faintest breath felt heavy, as if weighed down by invisible chains of fear.
No one dared to move.
The corpse of the Sarutobi clansman still lay sprawled across the floor — eyes wide, blood slowly tracing a red stream toward the polished tiles.
Indra didn't even look at it.
He leaned back in his chair — his own, not the Hokage's — legs still resting arrogantly on the seat that once symbolized authority. His expression was calm, detached, as though killing a man in front of every clan head was no more serious than swatting a fly.
Toru Uchiha stood beside him, silent and alert, his eyes shifting between the trembling clan leaders and his master's relaxed posture.
Indra's gaze finally rose.
Those cold Sharingan eyes, burning like dying embers, swept across the hall.
No one could hold his stare.
"Good," he said at last, his voice soft but edged with steel. "It seems everyone understands the importance of obedience."
A chill ran through the room.
The clan heads of Sarutobi, Shimura, Aburame, and Hyuga bowed their heads even lower. The weight of humiliation pressed against their pride, but not a single one dared to speak.
Indra stood up slowly, removing his feet from the Hokage seat. He circled the room with deliberate steps, every motion calculated to remind them of who now ruled this village.
"Now," he said, turning toward the silent figures. "Let's speak of the truth that was hidden from you all — the crimes of Shimura Danzo."
The name alone sent ripples through the crowd.
Even Hiruzen's absence felt haunting in that moment, his legacy smeared by the shadow of his old comrade.
Indra's voice deepened.
"That man performed forbidden experiments on clan members — your clansmen. Hyuga. Aburame. Even the orphans of this village, molded into his weapons called Root."
Gasps broke through the silence.
The Inuzuka clan head clenched his fists.
The Hyuga patriarch's veins flared faintly near his temples, Byakugan almost activating from anger.
Indra continued coldly,
"He stole Shisui Uchiha's Sharingan. He attempted to assassinate the Hokage. He murdered his own teammate, Uchiha Kagami, and countless civilians — all in the name of his twisted ambition."
Each word struck like a blade.
Every clan head who once turned a blind eye now felt the shame of their silence.
Indra watched them, measuring their reactions like pieces on a board.
Then, with a faint smirk, he added,
"The Shimura clan will bear the weight of those sins."
The air cracked again, as if lightning had struck the very foundation of the Hokage building.
"From this day onward," Indra declared, "Danzo Shimura will be known as the Pillar of Shame. His crimes will be publicly announced to the world."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Some heads rose slightly, disbelief flashing in their eyes, but the cold gleam of Indra's Sharingan silenced them instantly.
He gestured lazily toward Toru.
"Toru, prepare the list of all male members of the Shimura clan."
Toru bowed respectfully. "Yes, Lord Indra."
Indra's voice remained steady, cruelly calm.
"All male members will be reassigned to labor — mining, construction, anything that keeps them from power. Those who resist…"
He paused. The faint smile returned.
"…eliminate them."
A wave of horror spread across the chamber.
The Shimura representative fell to his knees, trembling uncontrollably. His lips quivered, but before he could beg for mercy, Indra spoke again.
"The women of the Shimura clan," he continued coldly, "will serve as attendants to the Uchiha household. Perhaps then, your clan will finally learn humility."
Not a sound dared to follow.
Even the flame from the candle on the Hokage's desk flickered nervously, as if afraid of being extinguished.
Indra glanced around the room once more.
"Any objections?"
None.
Only the rhythmic sound of heavy breathing filled the office — every clan head fighting the instinct to collapse under the tension.
Satisfied, Indra stepped back toward his seat and picked up a cup of untouched tea. He took a slow sip, his expression unreadable.
"Good," he said softly, setting it down. "At least you still know your place."
The silence dragged on until he waved his hand dismissively.
"The first part of this meeting is concluded," he said, voice echoing through the tense chamber. "You may leave now. I won't waste my time sending you off."
The clan heads hesitated, unsure if it was truly permission to go.
Indra arched an eyebrow — just slightly — and that alone sent them scrambling to their feet.
Chairs scraped, feet shuffled, and one by one, the most powerful clans of Konoha exited the office in silent humiliation.
As the last of them disappeared through the door, Indra leaned back in his chair again, the faint ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
Toru finally spoke, his tone cautious.
"Master… shall I begin preparations for the Uchiha's relocation to the village center?"
Indra closed his eyes briefly.
"Yes. It's time this village learns what true power looks like."
Toru bowed deeply and left without another word.
Only the soft creak of the chair remained as Indra looked toward the Hokage hat still placed on the desk.
The symbol of leadership — now nothing but a footrest in his eyes.
He chuckled faintly.
"The age of the old Hokage has ended," he whispered to himself. "Now begins the reign of Uchiha."
The moonlight outside filtered through the office window, illuminating the bloodstained floor where the Sarutobi clansman had fallen.
It glimmered faintly — like the silent witness of a new, darker dawn for Konoha.
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End of Chapter
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