"Ugh—my head!" Uchiha Cang's eyes flew open. A violent headache tore through him, as if someone were grinding an awl into his brain, each twist threatening to rip his consciousness apart.
Cold raindrops mercilessly pelted his face. The air reeked of blood and damp earth, so thick it nearly choked him. He struggled to sit up, and the sight before him left him stunned.
Unfamiliar memories flooded his mind like a burst dam. The Warring States Period... the Uchiha Clan... the Senju Clan... endless battles... his parents' early deaths... being adopted by the clan leader, Uchiha Madara... today, the family's supply convoy had been ambushed by the Senju...
"I... crossed over? And into the freaking Hell difficulty of Naruto's Warring States Period?!" Uchiha Cang—or rather, the person now known as Uchiha Cang—was completely dumbfounded. He struggled to calm down and make sense of the jumbled memories.
Boom!
A tremendous explosion sounded nearby, mixed with piercing screams and the sharp clash of kunai. It jolted him back to reality. His instinct for survival kicked in, and he rolled awkwardly behind a thick tree trunk.
Thwack!
A cold senbon buried itself in the ground where he'd been lying, missing his scalp by a hair. Cold sweat drenched his back. He cautiously peeked out, and one look sent his stomach churning.
Severed limbs lay scattered everywhere, and the once-muddy ground had turned a disturbing dark red. Several ninjas bearing the Uchiha Clan Crest were locked in a savage fight with enemies wearing the Senju Clan's crest on their foreheads. The roar of Fire Style, the whistle of ninja tools, and the dying cries of the wounded blended into a symphony of death.
This wasn't an anime playing on a screen. This was a real battlefield, with blood and flesh flying everywhere!
A young Uchiha was impaled by stone spikes thrust up from the ground by a Senju ninja's Earth Style technique. The spikes lifted him high into the air. His eyes bulged as blood trickled down them.
"Hahaha! You Uchiha scum, die!" A hulking Senju ninja laughed savagely as he swung his Ninja Blade at another wounded Uchiha.
Fear—an unprecedented fear—clamped around Uchiha Cang's heart, leaving him barely able to breathe.
Run? Where could he go? The original owner of this body was just a Genin who hadn't even awakened his Sharingan. Running around on a battlefield like this would only get him killed faster!
Just as despair overtook him, a cold, familiar shout rang out like a thunderclap:
"Fire Style: Majestic Destroyer Flame!"
A sea of flames surged into existence, swallowing the arrogant Senju ninja and several companions around him. They were reduced to charred remains before they could even scream.
As the flames died down, two figures appeared on a high slope at the edge of the battlefield, like gods—or perhaps grim reapers—descending upon the scene.
The man at the front had long black hair whipping wildly in the wind. Three Tomoe revolved in his crimson eyes as he surveyed the battlefield. His powerful Chakra and murderous intent were suffocating.
It was Uchiha Madara in his youth!
Beside him stood a young man who looked similar, with eyes just as sharp, though somewhat gentler—Izuna Uchiha.
"Lord Madara! Lord Izuna!"
"Reinforcements! They're here!"
The surviving Uchiha erupted into cheers of relief.
Uchiha Cang stared at the two figures, his heart pounding. In the memories he'd inherited, they were the original owner's idols as well as his guardians. Madara was especially hot-tempered, but he did look after his nephew.
"Useless! You couldn't even handle an ambush like this?" Madara scoffed. His gaze swept over the ravaged battlefield before landing on Uchiha Cang, pale-faced behind the tree. He furrowed his brow. "Cang, if you're not dead yet, get out here! An Uchiha ninja can die in battle, but he can't hide like a rat and wait to die!"
Uchiha Cang jumped and scrambled toward Madara. Boss, you're my uncle now! I've got to stick close if I want to survive!
Izuna was gentler. He quickly gave his orders. "Have the wounded retreat. Everyone else, follow me and counterattack. Wipe out the remaining Senju!"
The battle turned around in an instant with Madara and Izuna's arrival. Their powerful Fire Style and unpredictable Shurikenjutsu quickly wiped out the remaining Senju ninjas.
Uchiha Cang slumped onto the ground and gasped for breath. He watched Madara dispatch his enemies as easily as chopping vegetables, stunned by the sight.
Was this the pressure of a top-tier fighter? In the face of absolute strength, human life was cheaper than grass.
The image of the clan member who'd been impaled through the chest, his eyes still open in death, kept flashing before him.
An icy chill rose from within him, accompanied by a fierce... longing.
If I had power like that, would I no longer have to wait helplessly for death like I just did? Could I take control of my own fate?
Just then, he felt a slight heat and ache in his eyes. His vision seemed unnaturally sharp. He could make out the faint tremor in Madara's wrist as he sheathed his weapon, the fleeting fatigue on Izuna's face, and even the path of dust drifting through the air in the distance.
He instinctively raised a hand to rub his eyes.
Izuna noticed the movement and walked over, patting him on the shoulder. His voice held concern and a hint of praise. "That must've scared you, huh? Surviving an ambush of this scale the first time is an achievement in itself. It looks like the intensity of your emotions is helping your eyes adapt to Chakra. That's a sign your Sharingan may be awakening. Take time to feel what you learned between life and death. It's the source of our Uchiha power."
The Sharingan? Was he about to awaken it?
Uchiha Cang paused. Was it because of his overwhelming fear and desperate will to survive?
Yet what surfaced in his mind wasn't the original owner's admiration and dependence on these two uncles. It was a cold, clear thought from a modern soul:
"Power... Is that the only truth that matters if I want to survive in the Ninja World?"
"Uchiha Madara... Izuna Uchiha... the future Valley of the End, Infinite Tsukuyomi, the founding of Konoha, the clan's destruction..."
"If I'm fated to survive in this hell, then I..."
His gaze swept across Madara's arrogant back, passed over Izuna's gentle yet resolute profile, and finally came to rest on the muddy ground soaked with blood.
A strange feeling took root in his heart. It was as if everything before him was more than a cruel reality—as if it were a tangled game of strategy where every move was irreversible. And he seemed to glimpse, just faintly... the threads of Causality?
He drew in a breath of cold, blood-scented air. A strange glimmer flickered in his still-youthful eyes, already harboring a whirlpool, unnoticed by anyone.
"Could I... try to become the one moving the pieces, instead of... a pawn?"
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