Meanwhile, Tobirama, with his sharp mind, pieced everything together from Danzo's explanation almost instantly.
He had died during the First Shinobi War, after naming Hiruzen as his successor.
As Danzo spoke, Tobirama learned what had followed: Hiruzen's long reign, Danzo's rise as the leader of the village's shadow branch, and the eventual purge of the so-called Senju revivalist faction during the Second War that happened a while later.
Tobirama wasn't particularly enraged by that revelation.
He had neither ordered nor forbidden such actions before his death.
He was more of a realist, not like his brother.
He had always known that some Senju would never accept their vision of full assimilation into the new village system, that a faction would likely "rebel" to some extent after his passing at some point.
He had foreseen it, and his silence on how they should be handled was as good as tacit approval for what came after.
Even if it was his own clan, Tobirama had long since come to see only one thing: his village. Whether it was because the village gave him greater authority than any single clan ever could, or because he truly believed in his brother's vision of unity and the Will of Fire, it no longer mattered.
The Senju name had become the biggest burden to that ideal, a lingering remnant of the old order. And Tobirama, pragmatic as ever, had always known that one day, even the Senju would have to be sacrificed for the village to endure.
What unsettled him, however, was what followed next.
Out of that purged faction, one survivor had remained today, one boy.
A Senju prodigy of unprecedented talent and intelligence, now strong enough to threaten the entire village alone.
Ryusei Senju.
That was the part Tobirama hadn't predicted.
And that failure stung.
He clenched his jaw, his anger not at Ryusei, but at Danzo and Hiruzen for letting the problem fester.
They should have handled it long ago, before it grew into this crisis.
Still, now wasn't the time for blame.
He would deal with that later, when he had Hiruzen, Danzo, Koharu, and Homura seated before him, answering for their mistakes.
For now, he refocused.
His senses spread across the field, instantly identifying every chakra signature.
Ryusei Senju—young, but radiating power and vitality far beyond his age.
Ashina Uzumaki—their former ally, now revived, harboring a deep hatred for Konoha.
Tsunade—his grandniece, yet standing on the opposite side, and, according to Danzo, "brainwashed" by the boy.
Tobirama doubted that explanation the moment he sensed her chakra.
There was no illusion or control in it—it was pure conviction, solid and burning.
If anything, it was Tsunade's own will guiding her rebellion.
That realization unsettled him more than Danzo's entire account.
He ran through possibilities.
Summoning Hashirama had become inevitable if they intended to finish this today.
Only his brother's power could restore the balance that had already slipped beyond their grasp and give them a realistic chance of defeating the boy with the two of them here.
Without Hashirama, the outcome was already heavily tilting against them, and Tobirama could easily feel it.
But what if Ryusei used that same bond he built with Tsunade to twist Hashirama's mind and emotions, to an extent, as well?
What if sentiment and his brother's unshakable idealism and pacifism became the very weapon that turned them against each other for some reason?
What if the boy managed to sow enough confusion within their ranks to fracture their unity, create chaos, and open just the kind of window he needed to strike?
It could spiral into an even greater disaster, costing them more lives, more ground, and further weakening the very faction Tobirama was now, by default, forced to support.
Tobirama wasn't about to gamble on that.
He needed time, time to assess the situation further, to study this boy and his past actions in silence more, and to uncover what really happened in his absence.
He also felt strange, too, as if some fragments of new understanding from when he was in the underworld had fused into his mind for some reason.
He didn't yet know their purpose, but he sensed he could grow even stronger, through them, relatively quickly, by mastering them into proper techniques.
Or even just finishing his research that was stopped due to his death.
For now, retreat was the only rational choice, no matter how he looked at it.
Even knowing from Danzo how terrifyingly fast the boy's power was growing, staying here would accomplish nothing but needless loss.
He would regroup, scrutinize every reckless decision Hiruzen and Danzo had made in his absence, and devise a precise plan, one that addressed their failures, restored order, and determined how to safely bring out his brother's full power when the time came.
If executed correctly, Hashirama himself could become the decisive weapon to turn against Ryusei.
As for reconciliation with Ryusei?
Impossible.
One glance at the boy's chakra told him everything.
Ambition, will, and hunger for power burned within him, and behind it, the cold focus of revenge.
If allowed to grow within the village, he wouldn't integrate; he would overthrow.
Hiruzen, Danzo, and the rest of the elders, Tobirama's own political descendants, would all fall, and the Hokage's seat itself would eventually pass into the hands of the last Senju.
Their shared vision, his and Hashirama's legacy, would be erased completely in a day.
No, Tobirama decided coldly. Ryusei Senju was a problem that had to be dealt with.
Not today. But soon. Very soon.
Tobirama finally spoke, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Enough. This isn't the time or the place. We settle this another day."
Ryusei met his gaze, expression unreadable. "Fine by me," he said quietly. "Just make sure you're ready when that day comes."
The tension hung for a moment before the others arrived.
Mito, Hiruzen, and Shinsuke stepped behind Tobirama, while Tsunade and Ashina joined Ryusei's side.
The air was thick with unspoken words, every glance carrying its own history.
However, before leaving, Tsunade instinctively tried to speak up, her voice trembling.
She wanted to tell Tobirama the truth about Nawaki, what had really happened, and who had ordered it.
But Tobirama stopped her with a raised hand. His sharp eyes said enough.
He already understood it inwardly at this point.
He was fuming inside. But he had to pretend.
For the greater good, he needed to bury it himself.
So, his expression toward her hardened instantly. "Silence."
His gaze was cold, cutting, and almost disappointed. "You've made your choice, Tsunade. You stand beside the one threatening Konoha, and you expect me to listen to your excuses?"
She froze, stunned for a moment. "Excuses? You don't even know what they—"
"I don't need to," he interrupted sharply. "I raised you to protect the village, not betray it."
His voice carried the weight of final judgment, leaving no room for argument.
He could now fully guess why she had turned against the village and her elders so much, why she followed that boy so fiercely.
Danzo and Hiruzen had gone too far.
They had very likely ordered for Nawaki to be killed.
A cold realization settled in him, but Tobirama quickly buried it.
Mito was still here, and she must not hear that truth, not yet.
If she did—and later told Hashirama—it could shatter everything.
Tobirama had to contain this before it reached his brother's ears.
Still, he silently vowed to uncover exactly who was responsible.
If only one of them had done it, he would deal with that man personally.
But if both Hiruzen and Danzo shared the blame, he couldn't bring himself to kill them.
They were, after all, his own most important students, his legacy.
Even in their failure and a betrayal of himself, he couldn't erase them.
All the more because the village, already strained by war both within and beyond its borders, couldn't withstand another internal fracture.
For now, Tobirama decided, the truth would have to be buried, at least until he could find a way to contain it safely.
So, he just turned his back on them, speaking to his group instead.
"We're leaving. All ANBU and ROOT in distance guarding the sector will have to step down, Danzo, Hiruzen. Anyone who disobeys will answer to me."
Hiruzen nodded silently, guilt flickering behind his eyes.
Danzo said nothing, his expression unreadable.
As Tobirama's group began to withdraw, Tsunade clenched her fists, fury burning behind her silence.
Ryusei placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice calm but laced with disdain. "He's not worth it, Tsunade."
"Maybe he's just like the rest, another man who talks about grand ideals and legacies that never saved or helped anyone but only cares about personal power and control in the end."
Tsunade's jaw tightened.
Her eyes followed Tobirama's retreating figure for a long moment before she spoke, her voice colder than before.
"Then he's no different from Hiruzen or Danzo," she muttered. "Fine. He can join them."
Ryusei gave a small, humorless smile. "Good. Makes things simpler."
Neither of them looked back as Tobirama's group disappeared into the mist.
The bond of family meant nothing now; only sides remained.
Instead, inwardly, Ryusei was already thinking ahead.
Withdrawing now wasn't just convenient; it was the smarter move.
A man like him didn't bet on chance.
Could he really gamble that Hashirama, in this world, would be the same sentimental fool as in the legends, so emotional, so soft toward Tsunade, that he'd ignore Tobirama's commands and side with her instead?
No. That was a risk Ryusei would never take.
He realized Tobirama probably shared the same concern.
The Second had hesitated to summon his brother immediately, likely because he wasn't sure how much influence Tsunade still held, or whether she had enough proof to make Hashirama turn on Hiruzen and Danzo.
In a twisted way, the two of them had reached an unspoken understanding: neither wanted to deal with Hashirama right now.
The standoff ended as a silent truce, one that benefited them both.
Ryusei had not only kept his people alive but also secured his base.
There was no longer any need to abandon the lab or run.
In fact, his makeshift team hadn't just survived this full-scale assault from the entire Konoha leadership and their full capacity; they had turned it around completely.
Every one of them had grown through the chaos.
Just look at Kiyomi, for example. She hadn't merely improved; she had leapt forward by an entire realm, awakening two very broken, almost conceptual Mangekyō abilities that stood among the strongest ever seen in Uchiha.
He allowed himself a brief smirk.
From a half-dead genin on a failed B-rank mission to someone forcing the village to summon its founding Hokage, he had truly come far.
His power, his allies, his influence, all had grown to the point that even Konoha's greatest legends had to move against him in self-defense.
But the thought didn't humble him. It thrilled him.
Because this wasn't the end, it was only the beginning.
The real hunt hadn't started yet.
Orochimaru would soon crawl out of his hole, demanding the Hokage's seat.
Ryusei would stand beside him.
Fugaku and the Uchiha would rise from the south. The world would move.
And when it did, Ryusei would no longer fight for survival. He would fight for domination.
He smirked darkly, his eyes glinting. "Let them come," he thought. "It's my turn from now."