"Woof! Woof…"
Inside the Uchiha clan district.
Night had fallen, and lights glowed in every household.
Occasionally, the barking of dogs echoed through the quiet streets.
On top of a utility pole—
Uchiha Itachi stood there, dressed in ANBU combat gear with a ninja sword strapped to his back.
He silently gazed at the illuminated houses.
His scarlet three-tomoe Sharingan radiated cold determination.
Without hesitation—
he drew the blade from his back.
Then he rushed toward the nearest house.
"Slash—"
"Itachi?"
"Ah—why?!"
"Clang—!"
"My child… Itachi, you beast!"
"AAAAH—!"
…
Screams echoed continuously.
House after house—
the lights gradually went out.
Angry curses and brief sounds of fighting could be heard.
But every battle ended quickly.
Blood splattered against the windows.
Uchiha Itachi had become a cold, merciless killing machine.
Anyone he encountered—
he killed.
Men.
Women.
Elderly.
Even powerless civilians of the clan.
Some of them had greeted him with smiles earlier that very day.
Now—
they lay lifeless in pools of blood.
"Tsk tsk… how cruel."
One white humanoid figure after another slowly emerged from the ground.
They followed the fading echoes of screams and combat.
Without hesitation,
they began digging out the eyes from the corpses of fallen Uchiha—those whose chakra reserves had been fairly strong.
In some wealthier Uchiha households,
the homes were thoroughly ransacked.
Because Ren had given them clear instructions.
They weren't just collecting Sharingan.
The wealth of the Uchiha clan, along with the countless ninjutsu, secret techniques, and forbidden techniques accumulated by the clan over generations—
Ren wanted all of it.
Before long—
they reached the Uchiha clan's archive tower, where their ninjutsu and secret techniques were stored.
Without permission from the clan head or elders, no one was allowed to enter.
But the guards—
Uchiha elites who had awakened three-tomoe Sharingan and possessed the strength of jōnin or even elite jōnin—
were quickly slaughtered.
Facing Itachi's Mangekyō Sharingan, their abilities were completely crushed.
With overwhelming ocular power,
Itachi eliminated them efficiently.
His natural talent was extraordinary.
Having once received guidance from his close friend Uchiha Shisui, Itachi's mastery of Genjutsu had reached astonishing heights.
Reality and illusion intertwined.
True and false blurred together.
Even without using the extremely taxing Mangekyō techniques,
his illusions were far beyond what these ordinary Uchiha with only three tomoe could handle.
More importantly—
many of these Uchiha elites relied far too heavily on the Sharingan.
They had grown blindly confident in its power.
They believed the Sharingan could see through any illusion.
So much so that—
they didn't even realize they were still trapped inside one.
Otherwise,
even with surprise on his side,
Itachi couldn't have eliminated so many Uchiha elites so easily.
Watching from afar—
after Itachi finished killing the archive guards and rushed toward another area—
several white figures slowly emerged from the ground.
Taking out storage scrolls they had collected from various Uchiha homes,
they began rummaging through the building.
Scroll after scroll—
ninjutsu,
secret techniques,
forbidden jutsu—
everything accumulated by the Uchiha clan over countless years—
was sealed into storage scrolls.
Thanks to their extraordinary tunneling ability,
even hidden secret chambers containing highly confidential techniques couldn't stop them.
Soon—
the entire archive building was completely emptied.
Moments later,
flames engulfed the structure.
The entire building burned fiercely.
Meanwhile—
Inside the Uchiha clan head's residence.
Uchiha Fugaku and Uchiha Mikoto sat calmly on the floor.
Before them stood their son—
Uchiha Itachi—
holding a bloodstained sword.
Fugaku had already understood everything.
His voice was calm.
"So… Itachi, you've made your choice."
"You've chosen to stand with them."
"Father… I'm sorry."
Itachi's gaze remained firm.
"If this happens, the village will avoid civil war… and Sasuke will survive."
"Although I am the clan head of the Uchiha…"
Fugaku looked at his son.
"…I am also a father. I do not wish to fight my own child."
"Since you've made your choice—"
"then walk that path to the end."
"I… and your father have already taken poison."
Mikoto looked at Itachi gently.
There was no fear of death on her face.
Instead—
she smiled.
"Itachi… you don't need to be sad. Mother doesn't blame you."
"Father… Mother…"
Tears streamed down Itachi's face.
The sword in his hand trembled uncontrollably.
Looking at her crying son,
Mikoto spoke softly with deep tenderness.
"Our pain will only last a moment."
"But your pain… will last a lifetime."
"No matter what happens—"
"you will always be my proudest son."
"Take good care of Sasuke."
Itachi trembled as he walked behind them.
Holding the blood-soaked sword with both hands—
he raised it.
His face twisted with pain.
Eyes tightly shut.
Then—
he brought the blade down.
"Slash!"
"Slash!"
Two bodies fell into a pool of blood.
Itachi collapsed to the ground.
Tears continued to fall.
His three-tomoe Sharingan twisted once more—
transforming into the Mangekyō Sharingan, shaped like a three-bladed windmill.
After a long moment,
he took a deep breath.
Wiping the blood from his face—
he looked up.
A small figure stumbled into the courtyard in terror.
It was his younger brother—
Uchiha Sasuke, who had just returned from the Ninja Academy.
As for why the academy happened to hold an event that delayed dismissal until late evening—
no one knew.
"Brother… what happened?"
Sasuke stared in horror at the bodies of Fugaku and Mikoto.
And at Itachi—
standing there covered in blood and killing intent.
His face turned pale.
His voice trembled.
"Father… Mother… and everyone else…"
When Sasuke returned to the clan district,
he had already seen several corpses lying in the streets.
Afraid and worried,
he had rushed home desperately.
Only to discover—
his parents had also been killed.
He couldn't accept it.
Grief mixed with overwhelming fear.
"Yes. I know."
Itachi's voice was ice-cold.
"Because I killed them."
Sasuke froze.
"What?!"
His face twisted in shock.
He shook his head desperately.
"No… that's impossible! You're lying, right?!"
"Then take a good look."
Itachi's Mangekyō Sharingan began spinning.
"Tsukuyomi."
In an instant—
Sasuke felt the world shift.
He became like an observer.
From the moment Itachi slaughtered the first clan member—
to the moment he raised his blade against their parents—
the entire massacre unfolded before Sasuke's eyes.
Every scene was painfully real.
Yet he could only watch.
He couldn't touch it.
He couldn't stop it.
"AAAAH—!"
Panting heavily,
Sasuke's face turned pale.
The shock was unbearable.
Rage and disbelief overwhelmed him.
He glared at Itachi and shouted,
"No! This isn't real! Tell me—why did you do this?!"
He couldn't believe it.
His most admired brother—
had slaughtered their entire clan.
Even their parents.
"To test my capacity."
Itachi replied coldly.
"This foolish and arrogant clan…"
"They're obsessed with their hollow glory of the past."
"They no longer deserve to exist."
"You bastard!"
Sasuke lost control and rushed forward.
His eyes turned red.
Black tomoe faintly appeared.
Seeing this,
Itachi suppressed the pain in his heart.
He kicked Sasuke away without hesitation.
(Only one tomoe… Sasuke, it's still far from enough. Forgive me…)
"Bang!"
Sasuke crashed into the ground.
The pain forced him to regain his senses.
The terrifying gap in strength between them filled him with fear.
He looked at Itachi—
no longer the gentle brother he once knew.
Only a terrifying killer remained.
Sasuke turned to run.
But Itachi appeared instantly in front of him.
Grabbing Sasuke by the throat—
he cast Tsukuyomi again.
"AAAAH—!"
"No… don't make me see that again!"
"Brother… please… I don't want to experience it again!"
Sasuke was nearly driven insane.
Yet—
his Sharingan still didn't evolve further.
Disappointment flickered in Itachi's eyes.
He lifted the nearly unconscious Sasuke with one hand—
then threw him aside.
Looking down at him coldly,
Itachi spoke the words that would echo through history.
"My foolish little brother…"
"If you want to kill me—"
"then hate me."
"Despise me."
"And live in misery."
"Run… keep running… cling to life in disgrace."
"Then one day—when you obtain the same eyes as mine—"
"come stand before me."
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