Chapter 41
The surrounding scenery shattered instantly.
Before Itachi's eyes appeared an electric pole at the edge of the clan district.
The sky behind it was not the black of night, but a thick, blood-like crimson, setting off a pure white full moon.
Soon the scene shifted. From an observer's perspective, he witnessed soul-shaking images:
He saw the clan members growing resentful under the village's exclusion, saw his father forced to finalize the coup plan in the meeting hall.
He saw his closest friend Shisui fail to stop the conflict between clan and village, ultimately choosing to leap from a cliff in despair.
He saw himself acting as a double agent, caught between family and village, living like a walking corpse in agony.
Finally… the scene froze on a full-moon night.
He saw "himself."
That "self" wearing familiar Anbu attire, wielding a blood-dripping long sword, expressionlessly moving through the clan grounds.
Men, women, elders—even children—fell one after another into pools of blood.
At last, that "self" pushed open the door of their own home.
In the scene, Father and Mother knelt on the tatami, backs facing the entrance.
"Don't be afraid. This is the path you chose."
"Compared to yours, our pain will last only a moment."
"Though our paths differ, you remain our pride."
"Itachi… Sasuke is in your hands now."
The sword in that hand trembled.
Pfft!
The long blade swung down. Parents collapsed in blood.
And that "self" shed tears of blood.
He turned toward Uchiha Sasuke, who had just returned home…
…
Uchiha Itachi's mouth fell open as though screaming with all his soul, yet no sound emerged.
He gasped desperately, drenched in cold sweat, collapsing weakly to the floor.
As though he had just endured lingchi—death by a thousand cuts.
"That… that was… what…"
Itachi's voice shook. That future felt too real, too bloody, too hopeless.
Having become an Anbu squad captain at thirteen, his hands were no stranger to killing.
But he could not accept that he himself would massacre the clan.
"That was one of the futures that could have happened."
Uchiha Fugaku deactivated his Mangekyō Sharingan and stepped forward to support his nearly collapsed son.
"If we had continued to be distrusted by the village, if the clan had kept growing radical, if you had been forced into a corner… that blood-soaked Asura would not necessarily have been you—it could have been someone else. That was the Uchiha ending."
"Father… you've known this all along!"
Itachi looked up in shock: "But… the village right now doesn't…"
"Correct. It doesn't."
Uchiha Fugaku's gaze softened slightly.
"Because fate has already changed."
"What we are now has no connection anymore to the future you just saw."
Uchiha Fugaku pressed firmly on Itachi's shoulder, voice heavy with meaning:
"Itachi, remember—peace is fragile. Everything is getting better, and that is precious."
"That future in the genjutsu—we were only one step away from stepping into it."
Listening to his father, Itachi recalled the nauseating stench of blood from the illusion.
He thought of the room not far away, where his younger brother slept peacefully beside Uzumaki Naruto.
Two clear lines of tears slid down his cheeks.
That was the relief of having escaped a doomed fate.
"I understand… Father."
Itachi's gaze gradually became resolute: "The shared future of the Uchiha and the village—we will absolutely never let that happen."
…
While father and son were having this heart-to-heart,
Xuanming had been sitting in meditation with eyes closed.
"Hm?"
His brow furrowed slightly. He sensed an extremely unnatural ripple.
It wasn't chakra flow, but something extremely obscure—as though something had forcibly squeezed into this space and arrived nearby.
A spiritual ripple spread. A figure materialized in mid-air above the rooftop.
Xuanming's mind moved. His spirit form passed through the ceiling and floated lightly onto the blue-tiled roof.
Cold, clear moonlight poured down like water.
At the highest point of the roof ridge, a semi-transparent figure slowly took shape under the moon.
It was a young man in Anbu armor, a ninja sword on his back.
Though also in spirit form, his body was stained with a great deal of blood. His face was covered by a cat mask painted with red patterns.
Even without sensing malice, Xuanming could vaguely feel the deathly stillness and… the thick, unresolvable scent of blood emanating from him.
The moment the figure appeared, his body was in an extremely tense combat stance, gripping the sword behind him, ready to strike at any moment.
He seemed to be an existence similar to Xuanming. He also noticed Xuanming's spirit form.
Beneath the mask, a pair of blood-red eyes instantly locked onto Xuanming.
Xuanming recognized the other's identity with one glance.
Xuanming spoke first, voice calm, trying to soothe the restless soul: "Isn't this Uchiha Itachi?"
Hearing his own name, the semi-transparent figure visibly stiffened.
He slowly raised his hand and removed the mask from his face.
As the mask fell away, it revealed a young, refined face full of exhaustion.
Deep tear-tracks carried a maturity and pain far beyond his years.
This was the Uchiha Itachi from the original timeline—only thirteen years old, having just completed the night of the clan massacre and currently fleeing Konoha.
"Genjutsu…?"
The phantom Itachi's voice was hoarse, eyes cold.
His first reaction was that he had been caught in an enemy illusion.
The next second, three tomoe spun wildly in his eyes, finally connecting into the hand-shuriken shape of the Mangekyō Sharingan.
Mangekyō Sharingan · Activated!
This spirit body did not seem to be his original form, but he still retained enough ocular power to affect the spiritual plane directly.
Under the Mangekyō's gaze, the surrounding roof and moonlight remained unchanged.
But the façade of the fox-eared, fox-tailed red-robed Daoist before him was instantly stripped away.
What lay beneath was—
an immense, vast, wild aura of red chakra.
The terrifying shadow of nine tails bared fangs and claws behind Xuanming.
"I never expected…"
Phantom Itachi's pupils contracted slightly, voice carrying a trace of disbelief: "The Nine-Tailed Demon Fox… appearing in human form inside an illusion."
Having his true form seen through, Xuanming was not angry. Instead he gave a calm smile: "This poor Daoist is Xuanming. Though my essence is indeed that of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, I should not be considered the same one you've encountered."
Phantom Itachi did not attack immediately.
In this strange state, his reason was rapidly returning.
He recalled what had happened to him earlier.
After slaughtering the entire clan, he prepared to withdraw from Konoha.
But before leaving, he sought out the masked man who had helped eliminate the Konoha Police Force.
Just as the masked man activated his space-time ninjutsu to depart, Uchiha Itachi tried to analyze the principle of that ability with his ocular power.
The Mangekyō's Tsukuyomi could control the spiritual world. Passing through the masked man's space-time vortex,
in that instant, he felt another inexplicable pull on his spirit.
He immediately released a burst of ocular power to wrap a portion of his consciousness and followed that pulling force through the vortex—his spirit instantly crossing an unknown distance.
"This isn't genjutsu… this place feels like a real world."
Phantom Itachi looked down. Though he could not touch physical objects, he could still clearly perceive and see other things.
Following the eaves, his gaze went downward.
He saw, on that familiar veranda, his younger self at this age sleeping peacefully—corners of his mouth even carrying a trace of reassured smile.
And lying beside Sasuke was that jinchūriki despised by the villagers and strictly monitored by the higher-ups—Uzumaki Naruto—also sleeping soundly.
"The Nine-Tails jinchūriki… staying overnight at the Uchiha clan head's house?"
This absurd scene assaulted phantom Itachi's understanding.
This was far too abnormal.
Next, he sensed this world's Uchiha Itachi—deep in thought—stepping out of the room into the courtyard for some fresh air.
Xuanming watched the shocked phantom Itachi and guessed he had arrived here by accident—from a different timeline's Uchiha Itachi.
Very Naruto-like.
Xuanming calmly explained the current state of this world—the thawing ice between village and Uchiha.
Listening to these words, phantom Itachi's semi-transparent body began to tremble violently.
For the glory of the Uchiha, for the peace of the village, to protect Sasuke—he had personally severed every bond, shouldered all darkness and infamy, and slaughtered every Uchiha member.
Yet in this world… none of it had happened.
They lived safely, intact, coexisting.
"So… such a world really exists?"
Phantom Itachi's voice trembled, carrying endless sorrow and irony.
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