The night was silent. Beneath the blood-red moon, the Uchiha district seemed drowned in an invisible tide of dread. Even the wind had quieted, as if afraid to disturb the calm before an impending storm.
In the faint crimson glow, Uchiha Gen's face looked pale, almost corpse-like, yet his eyes glimmered with an unfathomable radiance. Opposite him, hidden in the shadows, Uchiha Obito narrowed his eyes, uncertain of what he had just witnessed.
Gen's lips curved slightly, as though savoring a truth only he understood. His voice, soft yet resonant, broke the silence.
"My Mangekyo ability… is called Jumang."
"Jumang?" Obito repeated in shock.
The name struck him like a foreign incantation. He had never heard of such a technique—neither from Madara, nor from the forbidden records of the clan. His heart clenched, a mix of curiosity and unease creeping in.
Izumi—Uchiha Gen—did not appear surprised at Obito's reaction. His gaze remained steady, calm, and unwavering as he continued.
"I named it myself," he explained. "In essence, you may understand it as the power of a Tengu… or perhaps, as a form of Kotodama—the Word Spirit."
The words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. Obito instinctively furrowed his brows, his unease deepening.
Gen lifted his hand slightly, as if conducting an invisible orchestra. "The reason I chose the name Jumang is because of its unique nature. It has a special ability—simply put, it can strengthen the concepts that dwell within other Mangekyo Sharingan."
"Concept strengthening…?" Obito echoed, his voice low, uncertain whether he had misheard.
Gen's faint smile did not waver. "Allow me to illustrate with a simple example. Uchiha Shisui's deepest wish was for the clan and the village to coexist peacefully."
Obito's breath caught. Shisui… that name was like an old wound reopening.
"My left eye," Gen continued, "possesses the ability to strengthen such a concept. It amplifies not only the intent but also the ocular power that flows from it. In other words, Shisui's desire for coexistence could be enhanced, resonating with his own Mangekyo and making it even more formidable."
The explanation sank heavily into Obito's mind. A Mangekyo that empowers other Mangekyo…
Gen let the thought hang, then calmly added, "But that, Obito, is merely the ability of my left eye."
His gaze darkened. He lifted a finger and gently tapped the wooden table beside him, the dull sound echoing unnaturally in the night.
"The true essence of Jumang lies in the ability of my right eye."
Obito stiffened unconsciously. Something about Gen's composure sent chills racing down his spine.
"When a Mangekyo Sharingan user, whose concept has been strengthened by my left eye, eventually dies…" Gen's tone remained unhurried, almost clinical. "…their will, their wish, and their concept crystallize into permanence. They are drawn into my right eye, transforming into its eternal ability."
Obito's expression shifted. He leaned forward ever so slightly, his instincts demanding clarity. "What do you mean?"
Gen's gaze sharpened like a blade. "For example—Shisui wished for peaceful coexistence between the Uchiha clan and Konoha. The moment of his death, that concept fell into my right eye. From that point onward, as long as I act with the belief that what I do serves that coexistence, the very world will align with me. Reality itself will bend to ensure that outcome."
Obito froze. The words reverberated in his chest, but his mind rejected them outright. Impossible… absurd…
Yet the calm confidence in Gen's voice left no room for mockery.
"A strange ability, isn't it?" Gen mused quietly, almost to himself. His pale features seemed even more inhuman under the red moonlight, his Mangekyo glimmering with an eerie, shifting brilliance.
Obito's pulse quickened. He knew—he felt—there was a trap buried within these words. The simplicity of the explanation was deceptive. "No… the trigger conditions… they can't be that simple. You've hidden something."
But Gen ignored his protest, as though Obito's suspicion was beneath acknowledgment. Instead, he changed the subject with unsettling precision.
"Obito," he said softly, "your wish… is it not to create a perfect world where only Rin exists?"
The name struck Obito like a blade through the chest. His breath faltered, his body tensing involuntarily. Beneath the mask, his expression twisted in pain. Rin… the one name that defined his existence, his sin, his obsession.
Silence stretched between them. After a long pause, Obito forced a small nod. "…Yes."
In that instant, Gen's eyes narrowed. His lips parted in a whisper that carried the weight of finality.
"Contract complete."
A surge of power erupted. From his left eye burst a strange, captivating light, like crimson flames that danced with the rhythm of Gen's heartbeat.
Obito's instincts screamed. He staggered back, his voice rough. "What did you do?"
Gen's response was calm, almost dismissive. "Nothing much. I simply enhanced your ocular power. I only demonstrated this so you could understand my ability more directly."
His tone was serene, yet Obito felt the invisible chains tightening around him. His heart pounded violently. The words "contract complete" echoed like a curse in his mind.
Gen, unfazed by Obito's rising dread, continued with quiet authority. "Strengthening your concept means amplifying your pursuit of a world where only Rin exists. Once you die, Obito, that wish—your very dream—will fall under my dominion."
His gaze lifted to the sky, now painted crimson by the ominous blood moon. His voice dropped, colder, darker. "Simply put, the right to interpret your so-called perfect world will belong to me."
Obito's breath hitched. A suffocating realization pressed against him. This ability… this Jumang… was far more than an eye technique. It was a rewriting of destiny itself.
Gen's lips curved faintly as if savoring Obito's turmoil. His next words struck like thunder.
"And now… it is time for me to fulfill Shisui's wish. But I shall do so in my own way."
He paused, savoring the silence. His voice deepened, carrying a chilling finality.
"The key to the Ninja World's peace… lies in tonight's Uchiha annihilation. A nuclear peace."
Obito's eyes widened. "…Nuclear peace? Wasn't it supposed to be peaceful coexistence?"
But Gen's gaze had already shifted elsewhere. His entire body trembled with the release of power. Ocular energy surged wildly, spilling from his eyes like a flood that could no longer be contained. His skin paled further, cracks spreading across his body as if his life itself were being consumed.
And then—
Far away, in the heart of Konoha, Shimura Danzo's scream tore through the night.
Blood gushed from his sockets as the stolen Mangekyo Sharingan—Shisui's eyes—erupted with uncontrollable force. Both eyes shattered in unison, their destruction irreversible.
Danzo writhed on the ground, howling in agony, the once calculating schemer reduced to a pitiful wretch.
Back under the blood moon, Obito's vision twisted. An illusion—or perhaps a glimpse of reality itself—unfolded before him.
Blood-red clouds churned violently in the heavens. From within a vortex of darkness, a colossal shadow emerged—a death star, a planet of annihilation, tearing through the firmament with unstoppable might.
The star descended, its weight enough to shatter the very will of the world.
Panic erupted across the Five Great Nations. In Konoha, in the Cloud, in the Stone, in the Sand, in the Mist—every shinobi and civilian raised their eyes to the night sky, their pupils contracting in primal terror.
Cries of despair echoed. Entire villages erupted into chaos. The strongest shinobi gathered, weaving their most powerful ninjutsu in desperation. Yet no matter how fierce the resistance, their jutsu were swallowed whole, scattered like sparks before a hurricane.
The planet plunged downward. Its surface glowed with heat, tearing the sky, burning the atmosphere. A deafening roar shook the earth as it descended toward the Land of Fire.
In an instant, forests ignited, rivers evaporated, and mountains crumbled. Konoha, once vibrant with life, was reduced to dust in the blink of an eye.
"No! You maniac!" Obito roared, his voice breaking as his Mangekyo spun furiously, struggling to dispel the overwhelming vision.
But Gen… Gen was already withering, his body drained beyond recovery. His form shriveled like dried wood, life force extinguished.
Yet his eyes—those abyssal Mangekyo—remained fixed on the descending star of death. There was no fear in them. Only satisfaction.
This… this was the peace he sought.
Somewhere, in the Uchiha compound, Uchiha Fugaku closed his eyes. His hand rested on his son Itachi's shoulder. Despite possessing Mangekyo himself, he did not resist. He knew the night had reached its inevitable conclusion.
And yet, a faint memory surfaced—Gen's quiet question, asked days before.
"Clan Head… what is your wish?"
Fugaku had answered without hesitation. The revival of the Uchiha clan.
And now… as the crimson star fell upon the world, even that wish seemed but a fleeting ember, about to be swallowed by the inferno.
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