Several days had passed since Izumi's transformation. Emerging from the confines of her hidden chamber, her eyes now burned with an intense crimson light, the unmistakable pattern of the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan shining brilliantly—its intricate design resembling a cross nestled within an octagonal sun.
Izumi's gaze swept across the vast expanse of the Ninja world stretching before her. A wild, almost feral smile crept over her lips as she whispered, "It's time to try out my new power… and I will begin right there."
Without hesitation, her figure vanished like smoke, reappearing in an instant within the very heart of the Konoha Ninja Village—the place she once called home.
The scene that greeted her was both familiar and alien. The place she had left behind had been ravaged by an explosion she herself had unleashed, a violent rupture that symbolized her complete severance from her past life. The scars of destruction had not faded completely, but new houses had already sprung up, rebuilt by those determined to reclaim normalcy.
Izumi's eyes scanned the neighborhood. The sight stirred something strange within her—a fleeting pang of melancholy—before a cold, resolute expression settled over her face once again.
Her attention fixed on a particular house, simple and unassuming. Peering through a window, she observed the occupants resting inside: a couple and a small child. As her gaze lingered on their peaceful forms, a cruel smile unfurled on her lips. Her long tongue slowly extended, tracing over them as if savoring the moment.
"Hehehehe…" The sound was low and chilling, a laugh laced with madness and determination.
"That's right," she murmured, fingers lightly touching the corners of her eyes, "a lot of time has passed. Now… it's time for reckoning—one by one."
Suddenly, the air around her shimmered. Her eyes, burning bright with the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan, unleashed their formidable power: Kamui.
In the past, her Kamui had been limited in scope, a precision technique useful for defense and brief disappearances. But now, the power she wielded was magnified exponentially. A massive, impenetrable barrier blossomed around the house and its immediate surroundings, veiling them completely from prying eyes.
Izumi's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "This way, no one will sense what's happening inside."
As if layered with further intent, another barrier shimmered into existence—a spell barrier devised by Izumi herself. It sealed the area tightly, making escape impossible.
The neighborhood had fallen into a deadly silence as Izumi crossed the threshold of the house, her presence now an ominous shadow among innocent lives.
Inside, the man—a medical Ninja—stirred suddenly, his eyes snapping open. His heart leapt in terror at the figure standing at the bedside.
"Who's there?!" he shouted, instantly rousing his wife and young child from their sleep.
The man's gaze locked on Izumi's form, recognition striking him like a lightning bolt. "Uchiha Izumi? You're… you're not—"
Izumi's smile was cruel as she interrupted, "Dead? No. I am now a vengeful spirit. A spirit of the dead come for retribution. And you… you remember exactly what you did, don't you?"
Fear clouded the man's eyes. He instinctively recoiled, pulling his wife and son close, trembling. "I… I don't know what you're talking about!"
Her lips curled into a sneer. "My mother was healthy… until your trash doctors poisoned her! And you dare say you don't know?"
The man raised his hands defensively, pleading, "I'm just a medical Ninja. I was following orders! Please, spare my family!"
Ignoring his desperate pleas, Izumi's smile deepened into something unhinged. She dropped a small packet of medicine onto the floor before him.
"Here," she said coldly. "Experience the pain your actions caused."
The man's eyes widened in horror as he recognized the contents—medicine identical to what had been administered to her mother. The dosage, the chemical concentration—it all matched perfectly.
"No! No, this can't be…" His hands trembled uncontrollably, yet despite his fear, he found himself reaching toward the packet.
"No! Please, don't—" he cried, looking back desperately at his wife and child.
Unable to resist, his hand moved against his will, lifting the medicine.
He opened the child's mouth and forced the bitter liquid down their throat.
His anguished cries pierced the air. "Help! Someone! The Uchiha Clan isn't completely wiped out! Someone, please help!"
Izumi's tongue flicked out again, tracing over her lips in wicked delight. Then, covering half of her face with her hand, her crazed eyes bore into him.
"Hahaha! Don't worry," she taunted. "The night is long. Ending this quickly would be boring. Besides, there are others to visit. We will play this game for a long time. Feel the agony of your loved ones slowly dying, hehehehe…"
The man's terror broke him entirely. "You're a devil! A devil!" he screamed, shaking as he poured the medicine into his child's mouth once more.
Silence eventually swallowed the house. The man's face was vacant—laughing foolishly one moment, crying the next.
Izumi looked down at him with disdain, then gave him a final shove. He swallowed the medicine himself before she turned and left the house.
"Two left," she whispered, stepping out onto the quiet street.
A strange, chilling laughter escaped her lips as she slowly strolled down the road, the night air heavy with dread.
Nearby, a patrolling Ninja spotted her. Something was off—her long hair obscured her face, she moved in a strange, uneven gait, and a dark aura radiated from her form.
Nervously, the Ninja called out, "Hey! Who are you? What's wrong? Are you drunk?"
Izumi abruptly lifted her head, crimson eyes blazing beneath her long hair.
"Sharingan? You're a survivor of the Uchiha Clan…" the Ninja stammered.
Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream shattered the silence.
Residents awoke with a start, peering fearfully through curtains to see a dark, shadowy figure standing over the Ninja's lifeless body. Its eyes glowed a terrifying crimson Sharingan.
Around her, an inky black curtain undulated like a living shadow, blotting out all light.
Terrified villagers slammed doors and windows shut, barely daring to breathe.
More Ninja rushed to the scene, only to meet the same fate—cut down silently, trapped inside the barrier that allowed no escape.
Screams of terror echoed through the streets, fading only when the shadowy figure finally vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared.
Only after long moments did a few brave souls dare step outside.
What they found was grim—the patrolling Ninja lay dead in the streets.
Thus began the legend of the Uchiha Clan's vengeful spirits—ghostly figures roaming the Uchiha district at night, seeking retribution for their clan's destruction.
The Third Hokage, a man of reason and skepticism, dismissed the rumors as superstition. He dispatched investigation teams, but no further incidents were reported.
Time passed, and the fearful whispers faded.
But just as the village's collective memory began to dim, the vengeful spirit attacks returned with renewed fury.
This time, the deaths spread beyond the Uchiha district. Members of other great clans—the Sarutobi, the Shimura, and others—began to fall mysteriously, victims of shadowy assassins none could catch.
The Third Hokage personally intervened, leading investigations, but the culprit always eluded capture.
Thankfully, the attacks were rare, occurring only once or twice each year, but each incident sent shockwaves through the village.
The timing was uncanny—around the anniversary of the Uchiha Clan's annihilation, the bodies began to pile up.
Among the victims, the Sarutobi and Shimura clans suffered the greatest losses, their members increasingly wary of the unseen threat.
The villagers slowly pieced together a disturbing truth—the killer or killers were targeting specific individuals, making the Uchiha Clan's destruction far more complex than anyone had admitted.
Despite this, the Third Hokage insisted that patrols composed of ninja from the Sarutobi, Shimura, and other clans maintain vigilant night watches.
This order was met with resentment—no clan wanted to share blame or suspicion—but none dared speak out.
All could do was pray the vengeful spirits of the Uchiha would spare them from their wrath.
---
Ãdvåñçé çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)