Konoha, Uchiha Clan compound.
The night was deep, and the compound lay silent. Only the occasional members of the Military Police Force passed by on patrol, their footsteps echoing through the empty streets and adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
Inside Uchiha Setsuna's stone house, a candle burned like a bean, illuminating the old man's wrinkled, somewhat weary face.
He sat alone before a stone table. A cup of tea that had long gone cold sat before him, but he had no intention of drinking it. He merely stared blankly at the flickering flame.
Ever since Shaoyu's defection, the Uchiha's situation had become even more difficult.
Danzo's Root watched them like maggots clinging to bone. The Hawk Faction within the clan was restless but tightly suppressed, while the rift between the clan and the village continued to deepen.
Whenever the higher-ups summoned the clan head and him for a discussion, he could sense the seemingly gentle yet actually detached and scrutinizing gaze of Sarutobi Hiruzen.
War had broken out again in the Land of Rain, and Konoha would certainly send people there. How would the Uchiha be arranged?
Would they be expended as cannon fodder, or kept in the rear under strict surveillance? Neither outcome would be good for the Uchiha.
Just as Elder Setsuna's thoughts were in turmoil—
In the corner of the room, the shadow cast long by the candlelight suddenly rippled violently like water.
"Who's there?!"
Elder Setsuna instantly went on guard, his gaunt body springing up like a taut bowstring.
A sharp light burst from his cloudy old eyes as his Three-Tomoe Sharingan activated instantly. One hand pressed against the hidden kunai at his waist, chakra surging through his body as he fixed his gaze on that unnatural patch of shadow.
With his strength and perception, someone