Hokage's Office – Konohagakure
The atmosphere in the Hokage's office was heavy with unease.
Behind a desk buried in mission reports and diplomatic letters, Hiruzen Sarutobi hunched forward, a faint weariness in his expression. The aftermath of the Uchiha Clan's annihilation continued to ripple through the village like a poisoned current.
Whispers. Suspicion. Fragility.
As Hokage, Hiruzen bore the burden of balancing grief and politics — guiding a shaken village without letting it collapse under its own weight.
Just then, an ANBU operative appeared at the door with a faint flicker of chakra, kneeling.
"Lord Hokage," the agent said in a low voice, "Hyūga Hiashi requests an audience."
Hiruzen looked up, his brows drawing together slightly.
"The Hyūga Clan?" he muttered under his breath.
Their affairs had been settled, at least on the surface. Why now? Why bring more unrest?
After a brief moment of thought, Hiruzen nodded. "Let him in."
Moments later, Hyūga Hiashi entered, calm but visibly burdened. He offered a formal bow.
"Lord Hokage."
Hiruzen put away the last scroll, masking his suspicion behind a practiced smile. "Hiashi. To what do I owe your visit?"
Hiashi sat after a respectful pause. There was hesitation in his movement, as though carefully weighing each word before speaking.
"This concerns the Uchiha," he said at last.
The words instantly set off alarms in Hiruzen's mind. He kept his face impassive.
"Do you mean… the recent tragedy?"
"No," Hiashi said gravely. "Something far more serious."
Hiruzen's fingers curled on the desk.
Hiashi's voice dropped. "The Hyūga have never been ones to interfere in village politics, but we have our own means of gathering intelligence. We received a report from our outer scouts… troubling information regarding the night of the Uchiha massacre."
He leaned forward.
"According to the report… someone within the Uchiha Clan awakened a Mangekyō Sharingan — one unlike any recorded before. And with it, he unleashed a jutsu powerful enough to annihilate the entire world."
Hiruzen stiffened.
"A jutsu… of world-ending power?" His voice was tight, almost disbelieving.
Hiashi nodded. "This is no mere clan affair, Lord Hokage. This is a threat to every living soul in the Shinobi World."
Before Hiruzen could respond, another voice cut sharply through the room.
"Nonsense."
Danzo Shimura stepped out from the shadows, his expression cold, voice laced with contempt. "Fear-mongering and myth. The Uchiha have no such ability — especially not that brat Gen."
Hiashi remained calm, but firm. "Dismiss it if you like, Danzo. But if what we heard is true, ignoring it could doom the entire world."
Danzo's eyes narrowed with malicious intent.
Amegakure – Rain Village
Elsewhere, deep within the rain-slicked corridors of Amegakure, a masked figure materialized in silence.
"...Itachi."
Uchiha Itachi glanced over his shoulder. "Madara."
Obito's tone was uncharacteristically subdued, almost hesitant. "Do you remember Uchiha Gen — the one I mentioned before?"
Itachi's expression didn't change. "The weak one? The one you claimed was dealt with?"
Obito paused. "Yes… but there's been a complication."
Itachi turned to face him fully now, gaze sharp. "What kind of complication?"
Obito took a breath and confessed: "Before dying, Gen released a jutsu — something I couldn't predict. Its effect… was cataclysmic. It's aimed at the world itself."
There was a silence.
"Are you saying," Itachi said, voice flat, "that Gen — a forgotten, ordinary Uchiha — unleashed a technique capable of ending the world?"
Obito said nothing. Instead, he formed a quick hand seal, casting a genjutsu.
Instantly, the memories of that night played before Itachi's eyes — a vision soaked in rage, sorrow, and overwhelming chakra.
In the memory, Gen screamed in agony, his Sharingan swirling into a twisted kaleidoscope of hatred. With a roar, he tore open space itself — summoning a distant, flaming celestial mass from the void. A planet. A curse.
The sky burned.
Villages crumbled.
And even time seemed to crack.
Itachi stood silent as the illusion faded, still processing the impossible.
Gen — that quiet, mocked, overlooked boy who once ran errands in the police station — had unleashed something no shinobi had ever conceived.
Something godlike.
Itachi's voice was a whisper. "The Uchiha… are cursed."
Obito snorted. "Some destroy clans. Some destroy the world."
Itachi's thoughts drifted. He remembered Gen — how the clan ignored him, how the elders dismissed him. Even Itachi himself had barely noticed the boy's existence.
Now, he was the reason the world teetered on the edge of destruction.
"This makes no sense," Itachi said finally. "Such a power… can't come from nowhere."
"And yet it did," Obito said grimly.
But Itachi was no fool. He'd sensed it. Parts of the memory had been altered — words removed, pieces missing. One name, however, had slipped through.
"...Did he say Obito?"
Obito froze as his lone eye flashed some killing Intent. "Unimportant."
Itachi narrowed his eyes.
Across the Shinobi World inside the Illusion
That same moment, a vast pressure weighed upon the entire world. The skies had darkened. Birds fled inland. Oceans roared in protest.
From the outer atmosphere, a planet — wrapped in chaotic flame — surged toward the Earth.
A reckoning.
In the Hidden Sand, the Kazekage's tower shook.
In the Hidden Mist, the water itself trembled.
No land or human was spared.
Chakra across the world grew unstable. Shinobi fell to their knees, choking on fear they couldn't understand.
In Itachi's mind, a deeper conflict burned.
Uchiha Gen had chosen destruction — not of the clan, but of everything.
Why?
Why had he not sought peace, like Fugaku? Why not shoulder the burden quietly, like himself?
Why had he chosen madness?
"The Will of Fire," Itachi muttered bitterly, "is to protect the village… to endure."
And yet this disaster shattered that ideal.
Gen had rejected both the clan's pride and the village's ideology. He chose annihilation. Not vengeance. Oblivion.
Itachi whispered again. "You were supposed to burn for others… not burn everything."
For the first time in years, a flicker of fear crossed his face.
The god of mercy had been ignored.
And the god of wrath had answered.