Within Sasuke's mental space, beneath a blood-red sky, the Uchiha clan compound of Konoha was stained crimson by the shattered corpses and blood of its clansmen.
Sasuke was covered in wounds, panting as he collapsed onto the ground. His Ninja Blade rolled aside, while his Three-Tomoe Sharingan stared fixedly at Itachi Uchiha across from him.
But Itachi Uchiha was not in good shape either. Sasuke's Lightning Release chakra had scorched his entire body, and his Anbu uniform was riddled with blade cuts.
Still, Itachi Uchiha had won.
"Cough—lost again—" Sasuke coughed up blood. Bright red blood ran from the corner of his mouth and dripped onto the ground.
Sasuke's Sharingan was filled with unwillingness, but his ocular power had run dry. The three tomoe slowly faded, reverting to ordinary black pupils.
Again and again, he had lost count of how many times he had died at Itachi's hands here.
Although Sasuke knew this was merely a mental world similar to a genjutsu, and that his opponent was only a phantom born from his own obsession, he knew even more clearly that unless he defeated this embodiment of obsession within his heart, his strength would not improve much even if he left.
Not to mention facing the real Itachi Uchiha in the future.
Itachi Uchiha slowly approached, raising his bloodstained right hand toward Sasuke, two fingers held together.
With his chakra nearly depleted and his entire body powerless, Sasuke watched the enemy before him and the hand that had ended him countless times in this mental space, preparing himself for another defeat.
"Do it," Sasuke gritted out.
Though it was not real death, the tangible pain of dying after every failure still made Sasuke tremble inside.
The sensation of his consciousness being torn apart, of his soul being crushed—every time, it