"Clan Head, please leave quickly. We'll cover your retreat," said the Two-Tomoe Jonin, eyes firm with resolve.
"That's right, Clan Head," another echoed.
"The enemy is too strong. More lurk in the shadows, waiting to strike. Our chances of victory are slim."
"We ask only one thing, if you survive… avenge us."
The Three-Tomoe Jonin added his voice, calm and resolute.
None of them mentioned their families. They believed that if they laid down their lives here, their Clan Head as the one they now shielded with their last breath would see that their loved ones were never forsaken.
Fugaku's chest tightened. Their loyalty moved him, but how could he abandon them and flee? If he ran, would that not stain the name of Uchiha forever? He hesitated, torn between duty and pride.
"Don't waste your effort," Obito's voice cut across the snow-laden forest, cold and mocking. "Can you escape my Space-Time Ninjutsu? Accept death."
His Mangekyō spun. A vortex of space twisted open, and a barrage of shuriken tore through it at blinding speed.
"Go, Clan Head!"
The two Jonin leapt forward in unison. Sharingan whirled, blades flashing with surgical precision, intercepting every spinning shuriken. Steel rang against steel, sparks scattering through the snow.
Yet with each clash, their blades grew more chipped and frayed.
Seeing their determination, Fugaku clenched his jaw. He turned, body flickering away through the snow.
At that instant, Tobi rejoined Obito, merging back into him. Obito pulled away, vanishing into his vortex, the Jonin's counterblows striking only empty air. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared directly in Fugaku's path.
"I told you… there is no escape."
Fugaku slowed. His expression softened, the weight of decision gone from his eyes. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "If I cannot run, then I will face life and death together with my clan."
Obito's voice was low, heavy with cruel amusement. "Wrong. You will die. I will live."
Clan Head? The title was nothing to him now. Once untouchable, once revered, Fugaku now fled before him, his life dangling at Obito's whim.
The two Jonin pushed themselves to their limits, chakra flaring as they flickered to Fugaku's side.
"There's no escaping anymore," Fugaku said, voice steady. "We fight to the death. Even if we fall… at least you'll accompany me to the Pure Land."
The Jonin traded glances, lips curving into grim smiles. "We're ready to die with you, Clan Head. But if fate allows it, we'd rather carve a path of blood alongside you."
"Tch. What a touching scene," Obito sneered, though his Mangekyō burned with a predator's hunger.
"Shut up, you disgrace to the Uchiha bloodline!" one Jonin spat.
"Why does a traitor howl like a ghost?" the other cursed, eyes never daring to meet Obito's right Mangekyō directly.
Fugaku barked a harsh laugh. "An orphan, a bastard, an animal left untaught—such is the creature standing before us!"
Their words pierced Obito's mask of calm. Rage twisted his voice. "Very well. I had planned to draw this out… but now, you'll all die together!"
His hands flew through seals.
Wood Release: Deep Forest Emergence!
The earth erupted. Trees burst skyward, roots tearing through snow and soil. Branches thick as spears and vines like serpents writhed outward, filling the land with a suffocating wall of green. In moments, the snowy glade had become a dark, choking jungle where neither sun nor wind could reach.
Vines lashed in every direction, a storm of living wood crashing toward the three Uchiha.
The scale was not Hashirama's, nor Madara's, but it was still overwhelming, an ocean of trees, enough to crush any ordinary shinobi.
But Fugaku and his comrades no longer feared death. With one last shared look, they slammed their hands into seals.
Fire Release: Great Fire Annihilation!
Flames erupted in all directions, a blazing dome of fire that scorched the first wave of vines into ash. The inferno roared, pushing back the suffocating forest for precious seconds.
But jutsu could not last forever. Their bodies screamed, chakra burned low, and when their fire flickered out, the forest still lived.
Vines surged again, endless and merciless. The Uchiha cut and dodged, Sharingan spinning desperately, blades slashing through wood. Yet Deep Forest Emergence was inexorable attacks from above, below, behind, filling every blind spot.
Their swords dulled, their arms slowed.
A vine coiled around the Two-Tomoe Jonin, yanking him into the air. Another crushed the Three-Tomoe Jonin, dragging him down. Fugaku resisted longer, fire flashing from his hands, blade carving arcs of defiance but at last, even he was seized.
The three were bound together, choked beneath countless writhing coils. A thick vine as wide as a man's thigh wrapped each of their necks. With one brutal twist
Crack.
Their spines snapped in unison.
The forest stilled. The vines carried the broken bodies forward like offerings, laying them before Obito.
Their corpses were grotesque; skin pale, blood streaming from eyes, ears, and mouths, pupils glazed crimson with burst vessels. Their heads lolled back at unnatural angles, bodies crushed and mangled beyond dignity.
Obito crouched without hesitation. His hands which was already slick with blood tore the Sharingan from Fugaku and the Three-Tomoe Jonin, dropping the eyes into a vial of preserving fluid. He considered taking the Two-Tomoe as well, but dismissed it. To pluck some and not others would raise suspicion later.
He left them blind but intact.
When his grisly work was done, he let the vines toss the corpses aside like discarded husks. Turning, he moved toward Uchiha Tadao's last location.
Tobi separated from him, assuming the form of a plain White Zetsu.
Obito dragged Tadao upright, pried his eyes open, and forced his gaze into the Mangekyō's spiraling abyss. A Genjutsu sank into his mind, planting falsehoods, numbing suspicion.
Then Obito tossed him into the snow with casual cruelty. "Begin."
Tobi nodded. His form warped, reshaping into the exact likeness of Uchiha Gen appearance, chakra, and aura flawless. Obito and Tobi then withdrew into the trees, their shadows melting away.
The lurking Zetsu followed, leaving the battlefield empty but for the corpses and the half-dead survivor.
Time passed. Snow fell.
Uchiha Tadao stirred. His eyelids fluttered open, vision hazy, body heavy and numb.
"I'm… not dead?" he whispered.
Slowly he forced himself upright. Pain screamed through his back. His hand touched the wound—blood soaked his palm.
With trembling fingers, he drew out bandages and salve from his pouch. His chakra reserves were shallow, but he bound himself as best he could.
When the bleeding slowed, Tadao pressed his hands together, forcing chakra into a Perception Jutsu. He staggered forward, moving slowly, stealth his only defense.
Seven… eight hundred meters ahead, two powerful chakra signatures flared in his senses.
His heart clenched. Hesitating, he crouched lower, and began to creep toward them…