Inside the command tent, the dim halo of the oil lamp flickered violently against the canvas walls as the storm raged outside.
Minato Namikaze signaled for Kiyohara to sit down on a cot, while the Yellow Flash took a seat on a simple wooden stool directly opposite him.
"Kiyohara," Minato began, his blue eyes unreadable. "Kakashi and Rin have already given me a general debrief of the situation in the valley. Regarding your eyes... can you explain the details to me?"
Kiyohara had been meticulously preparing for this exact political interrogation for hours.
He raised his head, his expression a perfect mask of bewildered exhaustion.
"Lord Minato... I honestly was profoundly surprised myself," Kiyohara paused, rubbing his temples as if trying to organize chaotic thoughts.
"The situation at the time... Rin was kidnapped by Kirigakure Hunter-Nin, and Kakashi pursued them. When I finally arrived at the grid, I saw Rin being brutally besieged by those ANBU, and finally... that strange, apocalyptic chakra violently erupted from her..."
Kiyohara slowed his speaking pace deliberately, his dark eyes revealing a flawless look of traumatized recollection at the exact right moment.
"I only had one single, desperate thought in my mind at that time, and that was to save Rin from dying."
He reached up and gently touched the corner of his eye with a trembling fingertip.
"Then... my optic nerves started to heat up like they were burning. The entire world in front of me suddenly became exceptionally clear. The enemy's supersonic movements seemed to slow down to a crawl, and the microscopic flow of chakra could be seen perfectly. Afterward, when the battle was over, Kakashi told me that my eyes had turned blood red and a tomoe had appeared in them."
After finishing his flawless script, Kiyohara looked quietly, expectantly at Minato.
His words were not strictly false; they were all biological facts regarding how the Dojutsu functioned. He simply, smoothly adjusted the historical timing of his Awakening, moving it from much earlier in his career to the most critical, emotionally traumatic moment on the battlefield tonight.
This medical explanation was absolutely, politically reasonable.
Awakening the genetic mutation of the Sharingan strictly requires intense, traumatic emotional stimulation. Witnessing a precious companion in a desperate, lethal situation while desperately trying to save them is one of the most classic, historically documented triggering scenarios.
The vast majority of elite Uchiha awakened their eyes in this exact bloody manner—including Fugaku Uchiha, Shisui Uchiha, and countless others.
Minato listened in silence, his fingers tapping his knees rhythmically, unconsciously processing the data.
His sharp gaze lingered on Kiyohara's face for a long, heavy moment, seemingly judging the truth of these words.
Being able to seamlessly deactivate the Sharingan back to normal black eyes biologically confirmed that the boy actually possessed the dormant Uchiha Bloodline. Outsiders who surgically transplanted a Bloodline Limit could never control it perfectly. Kakashi was a tragic, living example, suffering a parasitic chakra drain 24 hours a day.
"You are telling the truth," after a long while, Minato nodded slowly, the tension leaving his shoulders. "If one physically possesses the Uchiha Bloodline, they will indeed spontaneously awaken their eyes when severely emotionally stimulated. When Obito awakened his eyes... it was also to protect Kakashi."
When mentioning Obito's name, there was a heavy, crushing sigh in the Hokage candidate's voice.
"Kiyohara... regarding your civilian background..." Minato changed the sensitive subject smoothly. "Do you have any genealogical clues yourself? Did your parents ever mention anything about your ancestors?"
Kiyohara shook his head truthfully. "I only know that my father and my grandparents were all poor civilians."
This was an absolute fact.
Minato certainly knew Kiyohara's Academy background; the official civilian file records were indeed exactly like that. As for any earlier genealogical records prior to his grandparents, there simply were none. After all, it had only been a few bloody decades since Konoha was founded and had established a so-called centralized archival system.
"Then, exactly how much of the Sharingan's complex power can you currently control?" Minato asked clinically.
"My dynamic kinetic vision has improved exponentially," Kiyohara answered truthfully. "I can perfectly see the aerodynamic trajectory of high-speed moving objects, and I can also see the microscopic flow of chakra. As for the infamous Genjutsu applications and other abilities... I haven't tried them yet, and I honestly don't know much about the theory behind them."
This was also the truth.
The abilities of the Sharingan physically need to be adapted to gradually over time. Only later would advanced abilities like 'Jutsu Copying' and 'Hypnotic Genjutsu' manifest.
Minato looked deeply thoughtful.
"The Sharingan is the sacred, highly guarded Bloodline Limit of the Uchiha Clan. Its spontaneous manifestation in your biology means that there must be dormant Uchiha DNA components in your civilian bloodline. The Village's High Command will be notified about this soon... and the Uchiha Clan elders will inevitably receive the intelligence as well."
Minato stood up, walked to the edge of the tent, and lifted the heavy canvas curtain to look out at the deep, rainy night outside.
"Kiyohara. You are a Konoha Ninja; this reality will never change. The Sharingan is your personal power, and therefore it is also the Village's military power. But... the sensitive political issue of your unregistered bloodline... might lead to some highly complicated, dangerous situations."
Minato turned around, his expression solemn and protective. "You will likely be officially summoned back to the Village by the Hokage in a few days to answer questions."
Kiyohara nodded calmly. "I understand, Lord Minato."
Minato walked up to Kiyohara and reached out to pat his shoulder warmly.
"Do not worry too much. You are an elite shinobi trained by Konoha; a true inheritor of the Will of Fire. No matter where your DNA originally comes from, this point will not change. I will support you."
His smile was warm and deeply reliable.
"Thank you, Lord Minato," Kiyohara nodded respectfully.
Although the current political situation of the Uchiha Clan in Konoha was incredibly tense and delicate, Minato Namikaze was historically one of the very few elite figures who would not politically discriminate against the Uchiha.
Or rather, if he successfully became the Fourth Hokage and Obito were still alive, Minato might even have gone out of his way to aggressively cultivate Obito for leadership. It was a historical tragedy that Minato became the shortest-lived Hokage in history.
"Go get some rest. We break camp early tomorrow morning," Minato dismissed him.
Kiyohara nodded, turned around, and walked out of the command tent.
The freezing night wind blew with the moist, rotting earth scent unique to the Land of Grass. There were heavily armed sensor ninja moving vigilantly on the wooden watchtowers in the distance.
He took a deep breath of the cold air and walked toward his own tent.
"Kiyohara."
When Kiyohara came out, he found Kurenai and Genma still standing faithfully outside his door in the rain, waiting for him.
"I genuinely didn't think you actually possessed the Uchiha Bloodline," Kurenai had an expression of finally understanding a complex puzzle.
Genma also scratched his head under his bandana, finally understanding exactly why Kiyohara was such a monstrous combatant. His massive chakra volume and his impossibly fast progression finally made genetic sense.
"I honestly didn't expect it myself," Kiyohara played along flawlessly.
This genetic revelation could actually add a brilliant layer of political camouflage to his 'dying wish' system from the Urn.
In the Ninja World, 'Bloodline Theory' was the absolute, geopolitical truth; absolutely every anomaly could be attributed to a rare, mutated bloodline. As long as there was a genetic precedent, there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for power.
"Then... you must rigorously accompany me in genjutsu training properly when we get back," Kurenai blinked her eyes, her beautiful crimson pupils staring directly at Kiyohara.
She possessed a very distant, cold relationship with the arrogant ninja of the Uchiha Clan. Now that her teammate Kiyohara had awakened the Sharingan, she wanted to test if the infamous Sharingan Genjutsu was really as unbreakable as the rumors claimed.
"Deal," Kiyohara nodded easily.
He didn't refuse this offer. With the Sharingan's copying ability, his speed of learning standard ninjutsu would inevitably accelerate. He could also pragmatically try to 'copy' some of Kurenai's highly advanced, A-Rank auditory and visual genjutsu to expand his arsenal.
"Why did you agree so quickly this time?" Kurenai was suddenly suspicious of his easy compliance.
"Training with a beautiful woman is naturally vastly more motivating than training with Genma," Kiyohara smiled faintly.
"Smooth talker," Kurenai rolled her eyes at Kiyohara slightly, her face flushing in the dark.
However, Kiyohara's compliment still made her feel incredibly pleased. In her view, it was just that the cold, pragmatic Kiyohara had finally become emotionally enlightened and officially recognized her charm. Heh heh.
Thinking of this, Kurenai felt wonderful all over. She couldn't help but laugh softly.
Genma's eyes widened around his senbon.
What the hell did Kiyohara just turn Kurenai into?!
Genma distinctly remembered that back at the Ruins of the Whirlpool Country months ago, Kiyohara had smoothly given Rin Nohara a woven bracelet. Rin was still wearing that exact bracelet to this very day, even in combat.
So what the hell was the situation now? Could it be that Kiyohara was actually, successfully playing both sides of the field?!
Genma could only sigh in absolute awe that Kiyohara was a flawless master of time management. Damn it, he wanted to learn that jutsu too!
"I'm going back to rack out first; it's late," Kiyohara said. After a long, apocalyptic battle and an intense surgery, he was now feeling the crushing weight of physical exhaustion.
"Okay, get some good rest," Kurenai came back to reality and nodded warmly.
Immediately, the three of them parted ways in the mud and walked toward their own respective tents.
Returning to his dark, personal tent, Kiyohara lit the small oil lamp and sat cross-legged on his damp bedding.
Since the end of the battle, he had been in a state of high, paranoid tension, and now he finally had the opportunity to calm down and sort out his massive gains.
First, most intuitively, he had finally officially obtained the Sharingan.
Although the biological anomaly would inevitably attract massive political attention from all sides, it also tactically meant that he could now utilize this apocalyptic ocular power completely openly in combat.
In the Ninja World, the Bloodline Limit was the ultimate, absolute component of military strength. And the dynamic kinetic insight of the Sharingan provided a massive, exponential bonus to his Magnet Release, Taijutsu, and delicate Medical Ninjutsu.
More importantly, the specific historical timing of the Awakening he had explained to Minato was flawless and fit perfectly with the traumatic incident of Rin being impaled. It would not arouse suspicion.
Because there was no medical technology in the Ninja World that could perfectly, seamlessly inherit the power of a transplanted Sharingan and allow it to be physically turned off. This parasitic drain was the tragic case for Kakashi, and also the case for the grotesque, full arm of stolen Sharingan possessed by Danzo Shimura in canon.
Of course, the current stolen Sharingan reserve of Danzo was probably not that massive yet; only his right eye socket had been surgically transplanted with a stolen eye at this point.
In addition to the eyes, his practical, live-combat experience had greatly, permanently improved.
The brutal, high-speed battle with Raiga and Kugetsu—two Elite Kirigakure Jonin-level assassins—gave him a profound new understanding of the lethal application of his own elemental abilities.
If it weren't for the fact that he was intentionally more cautious and wanted to test if Raiga would leave any suicidal trump cards, Kiyohara could have killed the Swordsman instantly.
Finally, the legendary Kiba twin swords were temporarily confiscated by Konoha.
Before leaving the valley, Kiyohara couldn't perform advanced spatial Sealing Jutsu, so he could only temporarily store the massive blades in a standard supply scroll. Later, he officially handed them over to Minato and astutely chose to exchange them for massive military war merits instead of trying to keep them.
Under the watchful, paranoid eyes of everyone in the camp, he had no way to keep the legendary swords for his own personal arsenal. Furthermore, the Hozuki Clan possessed a master summoning scroll for the ninja swords that could teleport all seven blades across the continent at once, so attempting to steal them required highly specialized sealing containment he didn't possess.
'However... the shattered fragments of the Executioner's Blade are absolutely worth finding a master blacksmith for,' Kiyohara thought to himself.
He had ruthlessly stripped the equipment of those Kirigakure ANBU during the battle. He took out the heavy, broken fragments of the Kubikiribōchō from his personal sealing scroll. He intended to pay to shape the regenerative, blood-drinking steel into highly specialized, lethal flying ninja tools—like heavy shuriken or trench-knives—later.
He hadn't found a black-market blacksmith to forge them before, mainly because he didn't have enough liquid cash and was highly afraid of the distinct metal being recognized by ANBU.
But now that he possessed the Sharingan? At worst, there was still the option of utilizing the ghost of Uchiha Kiyohara. The hypnotic ocular power of the Three Tomoe could completely paralyze a civilian craftsman, guide him with Genjutsu to think it was just a rather peculiar civilian material, and compel him to forge the weapons perfectly.
Finally, his chakra volume and microscopic control had increased significantly.
Brutal, live combat is the absolute fastest way to evolve. Continuous, high-intensity slaughter forces the human body to constantly squeeze out its genetic potential. The chakra meridians are physically widened and trained through the repeated, agonizing cycle of maximum filling, total depletion, and rapid recovery.
Kiyohara could distinctly feel that his microscopic chakra control had leveled up.
The biological price, however, was a heavy, aching strain on his stomach coils, which he could feel throbbing even now, requiring a few days of heavy caloric rest.
'My butterfly wings have truly started to flap a hurricane,' Kiyohara rubbed his chin, staring at the flame.
Rin survived.
Although the Curse Seal of Restriction on her heart was triggered by Madara, causing the Tailed Beast to temporarily run wild, Kiyohara successfully, surgically destroyed the core of the seal at the most critical microsecond and used advanced Medical Ninjutsu to save Rin's life.
This meant that Obito witnessed the horrific scene of "Rin being stabbed" with his own eyes, his emotions reached an apocalyptic breaking point, and he successfully awakened the Mangekyō Sharingan.
But... immediately afterward, Obito saw Rin miraculously "come back to life" and actively, desperately protect Kiyohara from him.
What kind of catastrophic, psychological impact would such a drastic, inexplicable emotional reversal have on a broken teenager like Obito?
Kiyohara didn't know.
But one thing was absolutely, historically certain: this timeline was already violently, fundamentally different from the original canon where Rin died completely and Obito fell flawlessly into the darkness.
"My future self," Kiyohara tapped his finger on the stone urn in his mind.
The spiritual body of Uchiha Kiyohara silently emerged from the urn. His translucent, ghostly figure appeared somewhat ethereal in the flickering halo of the oil lamp.
"What is your command?" the ghost asked calmly.
Kiyohara noticed that this specific Uchiha ghost was functionally different from the previous spirits; this future version preferred remaining perfectly isolated in the urn. Unless Kiyohara explicitly summoned him, he rarely manifested.
"I want you to formally teach me the foundations of Uchiha-Style Taijutsu and Shurikenjutsu," Kiyohara stated straightforwardly.
The ghost nodded slightly. "Excellent choice. With the specialized forms of Uchiha-Style Taijutsu, you can flawlessly coordinate your kinetic movements with the predictive vision of the Sharingan to unleash massively greater kinetic power."
"Explain the theory," Kiyohara indicated he was ready to begin instruction.
As for the current Kiyohara, apart from the Kenjutsu inherited from the young swordsman, the hand-to-hand Taijutsu he used was entirely the most basic, brutal, common brawling taught at the Academy.
If he could learn vastly more powerful, efficient martial techniques, the immense physical strength he generated with Magnet Release: Magnetic Field Rotation and Earth Spear could be utilized even more perfectly.
"Then I will begin with the foundations," the ghost stated.
"Proceed," Kiyohara took out a notebook and pen, intending to rigorously document the biomechanics.
The distinct style of Uchiha Taijutsu was fundamentally different from the fierce, bone-shattering, direct Strong Fist utilized by Might Guy. It was also entirely different from the Hyuga Clan's Gentle Fist, which focused on delicate internal organ damage.
Uchiha style was much more akin to a flawless combination of silent assassination techniques and lethal combat arts. It fully, aggressively utilized the precognitive insight of the Sharingan to perfectly predict opponent movements, avoid lethal attacks with absolute minimal physical movement to conserve stamina, and simultaneously launch devastating counterattacks from the optimal anatomical angle.
It wasn't until past midnight that Kiyohara finally collapsed into exhausted sleep, his mind brimming with new knowledge.
Far away, deep in the Mountain's Graveyard.
In the pitch-black, suffocatingly gloomy underground passage.
'I will... sever all karma with this fake world.'
Obito stared blankly at the dim, depressing stone scene before him.
Madara had told him months ago that this underground cavern was the literal crevice between life and death. Between reincarnation and oblivion.
Now... he felt that morbid description was terrifyingly, perfectly fitting.
He had originally, naively thought that once he finally broke out of here, he could live happily exactly like in the past, continuing his bright, sunny life with Rin and Kakashi.
Yet he didn't expect that he would return here willingly. Broken.
"Hmph... You weren't discovered or tracked by anyone, were you?" Madara asked from his throne, a profound, chilling smile on the corners of his ancient mouth.
"Obito utilized his newly awakened spatial ability to flawlessly teleport back. He wasn't detected by anyone along the entire vector," Spiral Zetsu reported telepathically.
Spiral Zetsu felt that Obito's newly acquired visual power was terrifyingly magical. It possessed the ability to instantly teleport into another strange, isolated pocket dimension, a barren space filled entirely with massive, geometric gray blocks that looked exactly like tombstones.
"Why didn't you reveal your true face to them?" Madara asked, his tone flat and mocking.
He didn't explain how he knew about Obito's failed reunion, nor did he care if Obito would ask.
Obito stopped his slow, agonizing steps and glanced hollowly at Madara.
At this point, he didn't care how the old man knew.
But Madara mentioned revealing his face.
Reveal a scarred, broken face that everyone has already completely forgotten?
"I was long ago forgotten by those people," Obito said, his voice dripping with absolute, psychotic paranoia. "If they can't even recognize my soul through a mask, it just proves that I was never, ever truly remembered or loved by anyone at all."
These past few months of agonizing rehabilitation training in the dark, without ever seeing the light of day, had long since permanently distorted his normal sense of time.
The sunrise and sunset, the biological cycle of hunger and fullness, the psychological rhythm of sleepiness and fatigue—these fundamental coordinates that ordinary humans rely on to anchor their sanity to reality were all completely ineffective down here.
With the White Zetsu exoskeleton, he no longer needed to eat, drink, or excrete.
His entire psychological world was reduced to only blinding pain, brutal training, and that one single, obsessive expectation: to see Rin and Kakashi again.
But now... that pure expectation had catastrophically collapsed into ash.
Rin's beautiful gaze... looking at him exactly as if she were looking at a demonic enemy to be destroyed.
Kakashi's lethal, murderous vigilance.
Rin's absolute, screaming indifference to his voice.
He even saw the terrifyingly natural, protective rapport between Kiyohara and the two of them.
That specific position of the 'third teammate'—which should have rightfully belonged to him—had long since been flawlessly, permanently filled by a vastly superior replacement.
Just as Madara and White Zetsu had cynically predicted, his pathetic existence had long been seamlessly replaced.
Even if he somehow took off the mask and went back... could anything ever return to the past?
"I can be so effortlessly, perfectly replaced by others... this proves that it makes absolutely no difference whether I exist or not," Obito muttered, his voice breaking. "Rin crying and saying she would 'always watch over me' was just pathetic, empty, lying talk..."
Obito looked up at Madara, a terrifying, absolute hint of psychotic madness burning in his Mangekyō eyes.
"I am completely, fundamentally disappointed in this rotting world full of endless betrayal and falsehoods. Such a version of Rin Nohara... is entirely fake. And the Ninja World that caused such horrific things to happen to us is even more fake..."
Watching Obito muttering to himself like a broken sociopath, Madara nodded with profound, dark satisfaction.
He was, after all, a highly traumatized kid who was terrifyingly easy to incite.
Obito's psychology was exactly like a faulty biological diode, violently flipping instantly from extreme, naive belief to extreme, paranoid suspicion. Such a traumatized person, in essence, desperately needed—but had never received—normal psychological counseling.
But only because of this critical flaw did he perfectly live up to Madara's dark guidance.
In the past, Obito naively chose to blindly believe in absolutely everything—believing in the Will of Fire, believing in the unbreakable bonds of his comrades.
When these fragile beliefs were brutally broken one by one by bloody reality, he did not rationally choose to doubt any specific part of the system. He directly, psychotically denied the entirety of existence.
If "goodness" and "love" are fake, then the entire physical world that bears this "goodness" must also be fake.
Such apocalyptic extremism, such terrifying black-and-white thinking, was precisely the psychological product of being trapped in a closed, distorted, sensory-deprivation environment for months.
Obito had been living in an environment specially crafted by Madara—a dark, closed underground tomb, having lost the biological anchors of normal eating and excreting, with only faceless white monsters and a cynical, dying old man around him.
In such a horrific environment, the vast majority of ordinary people would feel isolated, afraid, anxious, and inevitably experience psychotic hallucinations. A total lack of external neurological stimulation directly leads to a catastrophic decline in cognitive function, violent emotional loss of control, and serious, permanent mental health disorders.
Only such an abusive environment could flawlessly add highly combustible fuel to Obito's already paranoid, obsessive personality.
"Very good," Madara's raspy voice echoed in the cavern like a god passing judgment.
"You have finally seen the truth. The fundamental essence of this physical world is endless, cyclical pain and betrayal. Ninjas. Feudal nations. Bonds of love... absolutely all of these are just fragile, pathetic structures built entirely on bloody lies."
Madara paused, letting the poison sink deep into the boy's mind, then continued:
"So. Tell me your answer, Obito Uchiha."
"Are you going to pathetically continue to be forgotten, abused, and flawlessly replaced by others in this fake, rotting world... or are you willing to join me in destroying it, and creating a new, perfect world?"
Obito fell silent.
Thousands of bright, happy images from the past flashed rapidly through his mind. Those beautiful images now seemed to be mockingly covered with a thick layer of false, lying halos.
"A world without agonizing pain. Without tragic loss. Without brutal betrayal," Madara said slowly, hypnotically.
"A world where everyone can live with their loved ones forever in peace. A... dream-like, flawless, perfect, yet truly existing world. The Infinite Tsukuyomi."
"Tell me exactly how to create this new world, Madara," Obito spoke again, his voice entirely devoid of humanity.
He wanted to violently create a new world. A world that would no longer have betrayal or pain.
The Rin Nohara living in that dream world would also truly, always, flawlessly watch over him.
And in that perfect world, there would absolutely no longer be arrogant, superior people like Kiyohara!
Even if achieving this personal happiness required brutally burning the entire old world to the ground.
Hearing this absolute declaration of war against reality, Madara's dark smile deepened, the thick scars and wrinkles on his face bunching together in victory.
"Come here."
He reached out his hand, a hand withered like old firewood but containing the power to break the world.
"You no longer need to repay me for saving your life. Nor do you ever need to do anything for Konoha, for your traitorous 'companions', or for those pathetic people who have long since forgotten you exist."
"From today onward... YOU are the savior of this hell!"
Madara nodded.
In the coming period, he would ruthlessly, meticulously teach Obito absolutely everything he knew about ninjutsu, Yin-Yang Release, and geopolitical manipulation.
Of course, in this political process, Madara would also meticulously leave a lethal contingency in place, just in case Obito found a way to break the Curse Seal of Restriction or ideologically deviated from the grand plan.
That absolute contingency was... Black Zetsu.
That was the singular existence Madara truly, completely trusted. Or rather, the entity he arrogantly believed he absolutely, flawlessly controlled.
Black Zetsu would silently monitor Obito 24/7, manipulate Obito's psychology, and ensure he always walked the established path to resurrection.
'Savior... Heh.'
Madara looked down at Obito, whose Mangekyō eyes were gradually becoming cold, dead, and utterly firm in their madness.
Madara suddenly thought that although the Konoha boy, Kiyohara, possessed vastly higher genetic and tactical talent...
Obito was exponentially easier to psychologically manipulate and brainwash than Kiyohara.
Being naive and stupid... also has its advantages.
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Give me powerstones.
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