In the months after the battle in the valley, an eerie calm settled over the border.
Large-scale clashes came to a rare halt, replaced by countless smaller, more insidious and ruthless acts of infiltration, reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance, assassination and counter-assassination. The war had shifted from open clashes between armies to a shadow game that tested patience, cunning, and unusual abilities.
The Uchiha Clan was licking its wounds. With the clan's resources devoted to their recovery, Madara and Izuna's injuries slowly healed, but using the Mangekyō Sharingan clearly came at a cost. Madara became even more reclusive. When he did appear, his presence seemed deeper and more inscrutable than ever, though an almost imperceptible trace of fatigue sometimes showed between his brows. Izuna took on more of the clan's external affairs. His Mangekyō abilities seemed more suited to defense and perception; his deep-set eyes had grown sharper, and he was always quick to discover and thwart the Senju's schemes. But the old wound on his right chest still ached faintly on rainy days, reminding him of the danger he had faced that day.
Talk of the two pairs of "godly eyes" never ceased within the clan. Reverence and anticipation mingled, but unease lurked beneath them as well. The Mangekyō's power was immense, yet carried an ominous air—a feeling many veteran shinobi shared without ever saying aloud.
The Senju Clan was quietly gathering strength as well. Hashirama Senju's newly awakened Wood Style power had astonished the entire clan, and he was seen as their hope of leading them into a new era. He spent much of his time training alone in the forest behind the clan grounds, trying to master and expand this entirely new power. The grove he had brought forth had become sacred ground to the Senju Clan. The vitality flourishing there could even speed the recovery of the wounded.
Tobirama Senju, meanwhile, had thrown himself completely into developing Forbidden Jutsu. The Uchiha brothers' Mangekyō had shaken and pressured him immensely. His Ghost Shadow Body Flicker Technique was incredibly fast, but it still carried risks when faced with Dojutsu Power that could predict or even interfere with space. He needed techniques that were faster, stranger, and impossible to defend against. His ideas for space-time barriers gradually took shape, and his laboratory filled with scrolls on fuinjutsu, Summoning Technique formulas, and even theories on the instantaneous transfer of energy. Meanwhile, his "Mutually Multiplying Explosive Tags" technique, based on Explosive Tags, was constantly being refined in pursuit of the ultimate in instantaneous destructive power. His eyes grew ever sharper and colder, like those of a precision instrument.
Beneath this relative calm, undercurrents churned. Both sides were doing everything they could to consolidate their gains and improve their strength, waiting for the next earth-shattering clash.
During this time, Uchiha Cang walked along the edges of the clan grounds like a ghost, unnoticed and alone.
He trained even harder in conventional Nintaijutsu and genjutsu. His Double Tomoe Sharingan grew more and more familiar to him, and his strength steadily rose to the level of a mid-ranking elite jonin in the clan. But this drew little attention. In this era, power was a necessity for survival, not something to boast about.
He devoted nearly all his energy to exploring that special ability.
Ever since he had successfully "stolen" a sliver of vitality in the medical tent that day, he had found his direction—but he had also sensed that faint, mysterious "warning." He became more cautious, no longer using this ability on others lightly. Instead, he focused all his practice on himself and stopped pursuing specific, measurable results.
He sat cross-legged beneath the moonlight, his awareness sinking into his body. He no longer tried to "make a wound heal one percent faster." Instead, he repeatedly and continuously "imitated" and "resonated" with the "world's" inclination toward "life" that he had sensed that day.
The process was ineffable, like trying to grasp running water with his hand or hear colors with his ears. Time and again, he exhausted his mind and gained nothing, sensing only emptiness and his own insignificance.
But he didn't give up. The temptation of establishing a connection with the world's fundamental laws was too great. Especially after realizing that the world itself might be "biased," he felt an intense urge to seize something—anything—with which to resist that injustice.
He began to notice some incredibly subtle changes.
As he continued his "resonance" practice, the Natural Energy in a small area around him seemed to grow ever so slightly more "docile" and "lively." It was nothing like how Hashirama could command Wood Style as if it were an extension of his body. It was more like a... friendly "inclination."
For example, when he practiced at dawn, the dew seemed more likely to settle on the blades of grass beside him, reflecting a clearer, more crystalline light. When he was tired, the breeze through the forest would happen to bring a cooler breath of air. When he tried to mold Chakra, the process became unusually smooth, and the amount of impurities produced seemed to decrease by an almost negligible degree.
These changes were so subtle they might have been illusions, and their effect was even less noticeable than that of the most basic chakra-gathering formation. But Uchiha Cang's Sharingan and spiritual perception told him they were real! His continued "resonance" was causing an extremely slight shift in the "Causality" around him!
He was like a primitive man in boundless darkness, trying to make fire by rubbing sticks together. He failed countless times and wore his hands raw, but at last he saw a tiny spark, liable to go out at any moment.
The spark was weak, but it meant that light might exist.
He tried to weave this state of "resonance" into his daily life. While walking, resting, or even carrying out simple missions, he kept part of his attention on maintaining that state of trying to synchronize with the fluctuations of "life."
The results came painfully slowly, but he could feel his body changing imperceptibly. His cells grew more vigorous, his Chakra purer, and even his Sharingan—which often grew sore from overuse—seemed to receive a faint nourishment, recovering a little faster.
He even began to risk another experiment—if he could resonate with "life," could he resonate with other "fluctuations"?
He recalled the cold fluctuations of Dojutsu Power, filled with hatred and destruction, that had burst forth when Madara and Izuna awakened their Mangekyō on the battlefield. Then he tried to imitate them.
The backlash was almost immediate!
The moment he formed the thought and tried to "resonate" with that hatred, a powerful wave of nausea, dizziness, and palpitations struck him! The Natural Energy around him seemed to turn into icy needles, stabbing at his mind! Pain shot through his eyes, as if he were about to go blind!
He stopped at once and gasped for breath, cold sweat soaking through his clothes.
The world's "favoritism" had revealed itself again. It rejected power born of extreme negative emotions—or at least, it rejected his attempt to draw upon it in this way.
Uchiha Cang wiped the cold sweat from his brow, but his mind was clearer than ever.
He had roughly figured it out. This world—or the will behind it—encouraged "life" and "fusion," while rejecting "death" and "extremes." His ability seemed more like that of a fire thief: he could steal a tiny, insignificant ember from the world's "inclinations." But if he tried to touch a power the world abhorred, he would suffer a backlash.
This path was destined to be arduous and narrow.
But he had no other choice.
One day, he received a mission to escort a small squad to the border with the Hagoromo Clan, where they would relieve another unit. It seemed like a relatively simple assignment, and they expected it to go smoothly.
But just as they were about to reach their destination, they were ambushed.
The attackers weren't Senju. They were a group of unidentified shinobi, ruthless and well-trained, who seemed intent on provoking conflict between the Uchiha and Hagoromo Clans.
The fighting erupted at once. Several of the ambushers were skilled and powerful, and the Uchiha squad was soon struggling.
Uchiha Cang fought an enemy wielding a strange Earth Style, kunai in hand and his Sharingan taking in the entire battlefield. The enemy's Earth Style could not only defend but also create quicksand traps, making him extremely difficult to deal with.
During a fierce exchange, Cang threw himself into rescuing a comrade trapped in the quicksand, leaving his back completely exposed!
Another ambusher darted out of the shadows like a venomous snake, a poisoned short blade in hand, and thrust it straight at Cang's back!
Danger!
Uchiha Cang's Sharingan caught the sneak attack, but his body couldn't move fast enough to evade it completely!
At this life-or-death moment, almost by instinct, he instantly reversed the faint state of resonance with "life" that he had been maintaining all along!
Rather than drawing upon the inclination toward "life," he desperately tried to impose an intention of "misfortune" on his attacker!
He couldn't hurt the other man directly. All he could do was try to shift the tiniest thread of "Causality"!
"Lose your footing!" A forceful, distorted thought burst forth, accompanied by an intense drain on his mind!
Thud!
The short blade missed his heart. The attacker's foot inexplicably slipped, throwing off his movement, and the blade grazed Cang's ribs, drawing a streak of blood!
Pain flared, but the wound wasn't fatal!
Cang seized his chance and kicked the off-balance attacker away. At the same time, he threw his kunai with deadly accuracy, taking out the Earth Style user.
The battle ended quickly. Every ambusher was killed, but every member of the Uchiha squad was injured.
His teammates crowded around to treat his wound, still shaken. "Cang, that was too close! Good thing that guy slipped!"
Uchiha Cang clutched the wound in his ribs, feeling its burning pain and the dizziness brought on by the strain on his mind. He managed a faint smile. "Yeah... I got lucky."
Only he knew it hadn't been entirely luck.
In a life-or-death moment, he had tried using his ability to "curse" someone for the first time. The effect had been no more than making his opponent slip, and it had cost him dearly while proving wildly unstable. But it showed that this path wasn't entirely impossible.
Yet even as he succeeded, that familiar, faint sense of rejection and warning from the world surfaced again, a little clearer than it had been in the medical tent.
It was as if a detached voice had whispered in his ear: Fire Thief, be careful. Those who toy with fate will ultimately suffer its backlash.
Uchiha Cang drew a deep breath, suppressing the chill in his heart.
He looked at the gloomy sky in the distance, and farther still, in the direction of the Senju Clan.
He knew the peace was temporary. Uchiha Madara would never let things rest, and Hashirama Senju and Tobirama were growing stronger at an astonishing pace.
When those hateful eyes opened once more, they would surely unleash an even more violent storm of destruction.
And before that happened, he—an anomaly quietly stealing the world's embers—had to become strong enough. At the very least... he needed the power to survive the storm, and perhaps even alter its course by the slightest degree.
His path was destined to be lonely and dangerous. But he had already set out, and there was no turning back.
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