The icy wind cut across his cheeks like a blade dipped in frost, leaving a faint sting behind. Worse, it carried an overpowering smell of rust—the stench of Uchiha blood, winding through the cracks in the stone road and silently soaking into every inch of the air.
The night was as dark as ink. Even the stars and moon were hidden behind thick clouds. Only a few scattered flames flickered in distant homes, illuminating ashes that swirled through the sky like a silent funeral.
The catastrophe that should have come three days later had descended upon this land without warning.
For generations, this place had been home to the Uchiha, whose eyes bore the crimson Sharingan. Once, the alleys had echoed with children's laughter and the clan members' greetings. Now, only silence remained. Even the wind passing beneath the eaves carried a bone-deep chill.
"Genki, hurry! Faster! Don't look back!"
Uchiha Hazuki's voice trembled uncontrollably, its final note almost torn apart by the cold wind. Yet her grip on Uchiha Genki's wrist was astonishingly strong. Her knuckles had gone white, and cold sweat dampened Genki's sleeve.
With her other arm, she held Uchiha Izumi tightly at her side, shielding the girl's frail body as if afraid the shadows pursuing them would devour the last bit of warmth they had.
Their footsteps rang sharply through the silent alley. Each step landed hard on the stone pavement with a clack, as if they were treading on the fingers of death. Any one of them could be their last.
Izumi's face was as pale as paper. Her lips trembled from being bitten, but she stubbornly held back her sobs. She clutched Hazuki's clothes with both hands, her knuckles turning blue from the pressure. Her little face was buried behind Hazuki's back, revealing only a pair of terrified eyes peeking through the gap at the endless darkness behind them.
Uchiha Genki gritted his teeth. His heart pounded so wildly in his chest that it felt ready to burst through his throat, bringing with it a dull, suffocating pain.
The cold wind poured down his throat, making it tighten. Even breathing burned.
He had been reborn into this world for ten whole years. From an ignorant child, he had stumbled his way into becoming a teenager, waiting day after day, hoping for the legendary system that could rewrite his fate to arrive.
Countless times, he had dreamed of the moment his golden finger would appear. He had imagined using it to protect those around him and change the Uchiha's fate. But now, with the shadow of the clan's destruction looming over him, that so-called lifeline remained nowhere to be found.
And even after training with all his might, he had only awakened a One-Tomoe Sharingan!
He was still considered a genius.
But he had no cheat, no shortcuts—only the cold reality and death closing in with every step.
Despair washed over him like a rising tide. But when he saw Hazuki protecting them, trembling herself yet refusing to back down, and Izumi clinging to them like a frightened little animal, Genki's gaze gradually grew firm.
He couldn't run, and he couldn't give up. He had to stake everything on getting a way out of this clan compound, which was about to become a living hell, with Hazuki, the adoptive mother who had raised him, and Izumi, who was like a real older sister to him!
"Clang—!"
The sharp clash of metal suddenly rang out, shattering the alley's silence.
A black kunai sliced through the air and struck the wall in front of them with deadly precision. Its blade sank deep into the bricks with a dull shudder, and stone fragments scattered at their feet.
Their escape route was completely blocked.
Uchiha Genki abruptly stopped. His momentum made his body pitch forward slightly before he tensed up.
A chill shot up his spine, making every hair on his body stand on end and raising goosebumps across his skin.
He could clearly feel an utterly suffocating pressure slowly approaching from the end of the alley. It was like an invisible net tightening around them, drawing closer by the second.
Just then, the clouds parted slightly. A streak of pale moonlight pierced through the gap and fell on the figure at the end of the alley.
A black cloak fluttered in the night wind, its hem billowing as it outlined a tall yet solitary silhouette.
On his young but emotionless face, a pair of crimson Mangekyō Sharingan gleamed coldly in the dim light, like two burning ghost fires, indifferent to the destruction of everything.
It was him.
The man who was about to personally bring the entire Uchiha Clan to an end—Itachi Uchiha.
"Itachi... It's Itachi Uchiha!"
Terror filled Hazuki's voice, which was choked with tears. Even so, she instinctively pulled Genki and Izumi farther behind her, then bent her knees slightly and took a defensive stance.
She clenched her fists at her sides. Her fingertips were icy, and her body trembled with fear, yet her eyes held a stubborn protectiveness.
Izumi trembled even harder. Tears finally welled up in her eyes, but she still fought to keep them from falling. She buried her face even deeper and clutched Hazuki's clothes so tightly she nearly tore the fabric.
As Genki looked at Itachi's impassive face, his breathing grew ragged and heavy. It felt as if a boulder were crushing his chest, making it difficult to draw breath.
Despair and fear, like icy seawater, swallowed him whole once more.
He knew how strong the man before him was. The difference between them was absolute. In front of Itachi, he, Hazuki, and Izumi were like three lambs waiting to be slaughtered, powerless to fight back.
But just then, he felt Hazuki's body trembling behind him, and Izumi's faint shudder as fear took hold of her.
Ten years ago, he had crossed over into this cruel world of shinobi. His birth parents had died in the chaos of war, and it was Hazuki and Izumi who had found him curled up in the ruins and taken him home, giving him a warm place to belong.
Hazuki had treated him like her own child, and Izumi like her younger brother. The warmth they had given him over those ten years was the only light in this cold world.
He could die, but no matter what, he had to win Hazuki and Izumi a chance to live!
Even if there was only the slimmest possibility, he had to take the gamble!
A desperate courage welled up in his heart, rising above his overwhelming fear.
Genki suddenly pushed Hazuki aside and stepped forward, putting himself between her and Itachi.
The boy's slender figure looked especially frail in the moonlight, yet it carried the resolve of someone with nothing left to lose.
"Itachi Uchiha!" His voice was hoarse with tension and fear, but he still forced it louder, making sure Itachi could hear. "I know something about Sasuke! You can't kill us!"
Itachi didn't pause. He continued walking slowly toward them, his black cloak sweeping over the ashes and stirring up a faint rustle.
His gaze remained cold and indifferent as it settled on Genki, without the slightest flicker. He looked at him as if he were an insignificant insect.
"Are you trying to threaten me with that useless brat?" His voice was low and cool, devoid of emotion, like an icicle in the dead of winter. "It won't work."
Even though Izumi had been one of the few clan members he could talk to, and even though the boy before him had such desperate resolve in his eyes, Itachi wouldn't waver.
For Sasuke, and for peace in Konoha, he had to bring this all to an end with his own hands.
Now, in the entire Uchiha Clan Compound, only his father, Fugaku, his mother, Mikoto, and the three nuisances in front of him remained.
The footsteps drew nearer, and the suffocating pressure grew heavier.
Genki's heart pounded as if it were about to explode. Cold sweat slid down his forehead, dampening the hair hanging over his brow.
He knew he had to reveal something more shocking to make this man stop.
"Inside Uchiha Sasuke! There's a soul that doesn't belong to him!"
Genki suddenly raised his head and stared directly into those cold Mangekyō Sharingan. Driven to the brink of despair, he roared with all his might, his voice carrying the madness of someone with nothing left to lose. "If you kill me, the soul inside Sasuke will eventually devour his body and consciousness! Then everything you've done will be for nothing!"
The moment his words fell, Itachi abruptly stopped walking.
Time seemed to stand still. The only sound in the alley was the howling wind.
Beneath the moonlight, his cold Mangekyō Sharingan narrowed slightly. His gaze was no longer entirely indifferent; a faint sharpness and scrutiny had entered it.
He stared at the boy in front of him. His low voice held an almost imperceptible chill as he questioned him, one word at a time:
"Is that so?"
"I know what you're thinking!" Genki met Itachi's icy gaze, his throat tightening, but he didn't dare retreat. His voice was hoarse, yet carried the resolve of someone with nothing left to lose. "You think that by bringing the whole clan to an end with your own hands, you can cut off the hatred and protect Sasuke? But I'm telling you, the danger Sasuke faces doesn't come from outside. It's inside him!"
He deliberately paused. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Itachi frowning almost imperceptibly, and immediately pressed his advantage, hurling out the biggest secret of all. "The soul inside Sasuke isn't his own at all!
"It's the vessel of the will passed down through our Uchiha family for generations—the founder of the Uchiha Clan, the eldest son of the Sage of Six Paths, Hagoromo Otsutsuki: Indra Otsutsuki! The creator of the Sharingan! He's going to take over Sasuke's body!"
Itachi's expression remained unchanged, but his crimson Mangekyō Sharingan narrowed slightly. A faint hint of scrutiny entered his previously indifferent gaze. The oppressive pressure around him faltered slightly. Those words had clearly struck a nerve.
Genki saw it clearly. His heart raced, and he knew he had won the first step of his gamble.
Forcing down the shudder in his chest, he continued, "You don't believe me, do you? But all you have to do is look through the Uchiha's ancient records and you'll discover that for a thousand years, the Senju and Uchiha have been bound together by fate, their conflicts never-ending."
"And at every turning point in their great conflicts, both clans would produce a shinobi with extraordinary talent, as if it were all arranged by some unseen hand!" His voice trembled uncontrollably, partly from fear, partly from extreme tension. "The pair closest to our time is one you know all too well—the First, Hashirama Senju, and the ancestor of our Uchiha, Madara Uchiha!"
As he said the name "Madara," Genki could clearly feel the chakra around Itachi shift.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. The pain helped him stay clearheaded.
The helpless feeling of entrusting his fate to an enemy gnawed at him like a poisonous snake. Despair clung to him, but he didn't even have the right to back down.
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