The morning sunlight failed to dispel the gloom hanging over the Hokage's office.
The thick, pungent stench of blood brutally overwhelmed the cheap tobacco scent that Hiruzen Sarutobi kept in his mouth year-round. Instead of mountains of documents, three enormous dark-red wooden crates sat atop the broad desk.
Their lids stood open.
Seventeen heads, their eyes still open in death, had been neatly arranged inside. Their cuts were smooth as mirrors, while the blood had congealed into dark brown clots. Drops fell from the edges of the crates onto the floor with chilling plops.
Hiruzen Sarutobi's fingers trembled around his pipe. He stared fixedly at the head in the center, the one wearing a tanuki mask. It had belonged to the most elite sensory jonin in the Hokage's direct ANBU. From infiltration to death, he had not even had time to crush his alarm scroll.
"Th-this is the return gift he gave me?" Hiruzen Sarutobi's voice seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, filled with profound helplessness and fear.
Shimura Danzō stood beside him, his face livid. Extreme hatred and disbelief churned in his single eye. "Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Root's elites are killing machines tempered through life-and-death trials. How could they be wiped out before even touching the walls of the Divine Palace? Where did those crippled old soldiers of the Senju clan get such terrifying strength?!"
"The facts are right in front of us, Danzo." Hiruzen Sarutobi slammed his pipe onto the desk, sending sparks scattering everywhere. "Not only has he gained power above yours and mine, but he has secretly raised a band of loyalists capable of overturning Hidden Leaf! That so-called Senju Divine Palace has now become an independent kingdom beyond even my reach!"
Danzo gritted his teeth and drove his cane heavily into the